The problem began when Reggie sent a helicopter.
Not for Juniper.
For all ten members of The Sanctuary.
Juniper knew immediately this would end in irreversible psychological damage.
"You cannot transport spiritually vulnerable people via billionaire aircraft," Juniper argued while watching The Sanctuary lose their collective minds from the penthouse windows.
Below them on the street:
a black helicopter idled beside three SUVs while neighbors openly filmed the scene.
Sage stood frozen on the sidewalk clutching a tote bag and looking moments away from ego death.
"THIS," they yelled upward, "IS CLASS WARFARE."
Reggie didn't even look up from his laptop.
"It's faster than traffic."
"That's not the point."
Nova physically spun in circles.
"Oh my God we're helicopter people now."
"We are NOT helicopter people," River snapped while climbing in anyway.
Courage wore custom noise-canceling headphones.
Which Reggie had apparently arranged.
Juniper stared at him in disbelief.
"You bought the lemur aviation accessories."
"He seemed distressed."
Juniper had to kiss him immediately after that.
It was unfortunately mandatory.
The Hamptons house was somehow even worse with witnesses.
The Sanctuary stepped inside and collectively lost all remaining attachment to reality.
Massive windows overlooked endless ocean.
An infinity pool disappeared into the sea.
Fresh flowers sat everywhere like the house itself had seasonal depression but with funding.
Sage walked into the foyer slowly.
Then sat directly on the floor.
"No," they whispered. "No because this is actually evil."
Reggie handed a glass of champagne to a passing staff member without breaking stride.
"Your room assignments are upstairs."
"ROOM assignments?" Elias repeated weakly.
"How many rooms are there?"
Reggie considered.
"...Twelve."
The Sanctuary screamed.
Juniper watched in growing horror as his polycule underwent rapid psychological decomposition from exposure to extreme wealth.
Within hours:
- Nova posted fifteen Instagram stories captioned:
rich people are literally doing side quests
- River discovered the heated bathroom floors and became emotionally compromised
- Orion disappeared into the wine cellar "for research"
- Courage became attached to a $40,000 cashmere throw blanket
Meanwhile Sage grew increasingly suspicious.
Because the entire weekend felt less like a vacation and more like:
a campaign.
And unfortunately:
they were right.
Reggie was trying to seduce The Sanctuary through logistical perfection.
It started subtly.
Favorite snacks appeared without asking.
Specialty teas materialized.
One member casually mentioned wanting fresh figs and suddenly:
fresh figs.
"It's manipulative," Sage whispered darkly while eating imported strawberries.
Juniper narrowed his eyes.
"You've had six."
"That's irrelevant."
Then came dinner.
Which fully broke the group psychologically.
A private chef prepared a candlelit meal overlooking the ocean while waves crashed below the cliffs.
Juniper sat beside Reggie at the long table trying unsuccessfully not to notice:
- Reggie's hand brushing his thigh occasionally
- the way he looked at Juniper before anyone else spoke
- how naturally they moved around each other now
Across the table Nova watched them with dawning horror.
"Oh my God," they whispered.
River looked up.
"What?"
"You're literally becoming monogamous."
Juniper nearly inhaled champagne.
"I am NOT."
Sage slammed their fork down.
"Then explain the eye contact."
Everyone turned immediately.
Reggie remained completely calm.
Juniper, meanwhile, wanted to launch himself into the Atlantic.
"There's no special eye contact."
"Juniper," River said gently, "he just moved your wineglass because you looked like you were reaching for it."
Juniper froze.
Because—
oh no.
Reggie HAD done that.
Without even thinking.
The table fell silent slowly.
Something shifted.
Not funny anymore.
Not absurd.
Real.
The Sanctuary suddenly saw it fully:
Juniper wasn't just infatuated.
He was building a life around someone.
And worse—
he looked safe doing it.
Sage looked genuinely shaken.
"You always said singular attachment scared you," they said softly.
Juniper looked down at his plate.
"It did."
"Past tense," Nova whispered.
Juniper didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
Because somewhere between:
- Paris
- Malibu
- Sedona
- brunches and helicopters and ocean mornings
Reggie had become home.
The realization terrified him.
And yet—
not enough to leave.
Dinner continued shakily after that.
Then came the disaster.
Because Reggie stood suddenly, glass in hand.
The entire table quieted instinctively.
Juniper frowned immediately.
"Oh no."
Reggie looked directly at him.
And Juniper's pulse began screaming.
"I know," Reggie said calmly, "that most of you think I'm emotionally repressed."
Sage snorted loudly.
"Correct."
"And probably bad for Juniper astrologically."
"ALSO correct."
Reggie nodded once.
"Fair."
Juniper stared at him in growing alarm.
Because Reggie looked nervous.
Actually nervous.
Which felt impossible.
Then Reggie turned fully toward Juniper.
And everything else disappeared.
The ocean.
The candles.
The people.
Gone.
"There's never been anyone like you," Reggie said quietly.
Juniper stopped breathing.
"You make every place feel alive. You make me feel..." He paused briefly. "Less alone."
Across the table Nova started silently crying into expensive risotto.
Reggie continued:
"And apparently I'm incapable of doing anything halfway where you're concerned."
Juniper's eyes burned instantly.
Oh no.
No no no.
This was becoming emotional.
"Which is why," Reggie said softly, "I don't want you leaving anymore."
Silence crashed across the table.
Juniper stared at him.
Then:
"Move in with me."
The world ended.
Literally.
Sage fainted immediately.
Just:
fully collapsed sideways out of their chair.
River screamed.
Nova burst into tears.
Somewhere upstairs Courage started shrieking in solidarity.
Juniper sat frozen in absolute shock.
Because suddenly every fear he'd ever had stood directly in front of him:
- singular love
- choosing someone
- belonging somewhere
And the horrifying thing?
He wanted it.
Reggie looked at him steadily across the candlelight.
Not demanding.
Not controlling.
Just honest.
"I know it's a lot," he said quietly. "But I love you. And I want to wake up beside you every day."
Juniper's heart cracked wide open.
Because no one had ever chosen him this deliberately before.
The entire Sanctuary watched breathlessly.
Sage regained consciousness just long enough to whisper:
"Juniper... don't let capitalism win..."
Juniper laughed through sudden tears.
Then looked back at Reggie.
Beautiful, impossible Reggie—
who crossed oceans for him.
Who listened.
Who stayed.
Who loved him loudly despite everything.
Juniper swallowed hard.
And said:
"Yes."
The Sanctuary erupted into absolute civil war.