Welcome to another sun-soaked season of love, lust, and absolutely unhinged behavior disguised as "good chat."
This year, we're turning up the heat with the return of your faves—and your unfinished business.
So pack your bikinis, your commitment issues, and enough lip gloss to rehydrate a desert—because this year, we're going international.
We've invited the hottest Islanders from around the world back to the villa. It's grafting gone global, and the drama? She's already booked, busy, and threatening legal action.
That's right.
The All Stars have landed.
And guess who's back after ghosting the nation harder than your last situationship?
Demitra Sinclair.
Yes. Demi is back!
The press dubbed her a "runaway heiress" after she vanished from the spotlight post–Love Island Australia. No closure, no captions, no subtle unfollowing. Just a custom Dior set, a private jet, and the kind of silent exit that could end wars.
And just like that—Poof.
Off the grid—and into a life most influencers couldn't even Photoshop.
The internet did what it does best—spiraled.
"She's in rehab."
"She joined a cult."
"She married a Sheikh in Dubai."
Wrong, wrong, and… close, but no.
After some aggressive investigative journalism—bribing Angie, threatening three interns, and hacking an alumni database—we found the truth.
Turns out, while we were refreshing her socials like lunatics, Miss Sinclair was earning two degrees—one in Biomedical Science at Harvard, and one in Fashion Design at Parsons. Because of course she is.
Before her Love Island debut four years ago, she was just your average 21 year old bored Harvard pre-med—flying between Boston and NYC to study fashion at Parsons like it was a casual side hustle and not the plot of a prestige drama. Sketching couture in the back of anatomy class. Just girly things.
After her season, she disappeared in true Sinclair fashion.
But let's get one thing clear—
Demitra Sinclair didn't disappear.
She upgraded.
Post-Harvard, she enrolled at INSEAD, pivoted to business instead of continuing med school, and is now Associate Director—and heir apparent—at a global lifestyle group. Oh, and she runs her own fashion label, of course—which, obviously, makes the BFA in fashion design more than just a phase.
Don't act surprised.
She's beauty. She's brains. She's got more degrees than the weather in Fiji.
And now? She's back.
Because apparently, her mum bribed her with a personal assistant—and her best friend nearly threw a shoe at her after she rejected our producers because she was "on vacation and busy breathing."
Whatever the truth, she's here. She's hotter.
Hide your man.
Hide your ego.
Demi is back in the villa.
The doors opened.
I stepped in slowly, one heel first, then the other. Floaty silk, glowing skin, designer scent. I wasn't trying to impress.
I was the impression.
I strutted confidently across the poolside—hips swinging left and right just enough to make their jaws hit the floor.
My eyes swept the villa.
Three men. None of whom I recognized—but definitely attractive. All of them held my gaze a little too long.
Interesting.
And then… her. I clocked her instantly.
Long curls, warm smile, soft London lilt—the kind of glow you can't fake. Casa girl from my season. We never met, but I remembered the name. Angie said she was sweet. Loyal. Like a golden retriever in lip gloss.
A girl with short hair welcomed me with a round of applause. "Now that's how you make an entrance! Oh my god, I'm such a huge fan."
She leaned in for a hug, and I met her halfway, smiling.
"I'm Bella from Love Island UK—the Double Trouble season. I'll be your host today."
"Hi Bella, I'm Demitra. Demi, if we're friends." I smiled sweetly.
Bella blinked—then beamed.
"Oh my god, sorry, I'm trying to stay professional, but—you're Demitra. The whole vanishing act, the post-show radio silence, the outfits—ugh, I was obsessed."
I let out a soft laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Someone behind her cleared their throat—loudly.
Bella blinked, flustered but grinning. "Ahem. Well, Demi—why don't we meet the rest of the Islanders?"
That's when a girl stepped forward, walking up almost shyly but still smiling wide.
"Hi… Demitra, right? I was a Casa girlie during your season. I've literally loved you forever."
She laughed nervously, like maybe she shouldn't have said that out loud. "But yeah. It's kind of surreal seeing you here." she added.
I smiled back and pulled her in for a warm hug, kissing both cheeks lightly. "It's nice to meet you."
A boy stepped forward next, slow and steady, with a smile like he had all the time in the world.
"Demitra," he said, voice smooth. "Didn't expect to meet an icon on day one. Should've worn cologne."
There was a twinkle in his eye—warm, not sleazy.
"I'm Henri. Paramedic. Chicago born. Heartbreak mender by trade."
He gave a half-shrug."Figured if I'm gonna fall, I might as well do it somewhere beautiful."
Then, soft as velvet. "Welcome back."
He leaned in for a hug. I gave him one, complete with a cheek kiss on both sides.
Then came another boy, practically bouncing over, eyes already sparkling.
"Demitra," he beamed. "Okay, no pressure, but I had a whole intro line planned and now my brain's doing backflips."
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Chen. Set designer from Melbourne. Professional flirt when the lighting's right."
Then, with a wink: "You bring the attitude, I'll build the backdrop. Just so you know—I design for longevity."
He held out a hand. I laughed softly and pulled him into a hug instead. He met me halfway, and I kissed both his cheeks lightly.
And finally—one more boy. He strolled up last, slow and casual, already wearing that half-smirk like he'd seen enough.
"Do I still have to introduce myself?" he asked.
"Yes," Bella said flatly.
"You're at least half as iconic as me."
Without waiting, he offered a handshake—like we were closing a deal.
"Hamish. Estate agent turned bacon baron. I'm here for sun, bacon, and maybe someone who doesn't need subtitles."
A wink—not flirty, just cheeky—then he turned and walked off, already bored.
What's his deal?
"Since it seems you already know me," I said with a soft smile. "I'm Demitra—some of you might remember me from Love Island Australia a few seasons back."
I paused, offering a polite nod.
"I'm an Associate Director at a global lifestyle group… and I run my own fashion label on the side, just because I love fashion."
Natasha and Bella exchanged a knowing look.
"A true girl boss. We love to see it." Bella said, grinning.
Then she clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling.
"So, Demi—are you ready to pick?"
I let my gaze drift across the boys—Henri's quiet confidence, Chen's playful grin… and Hamish, already looking somewhere else, like he had better things to do.
Noted.
I let a smile curve at the corner of my mouth.
"Ready," I nodded.
Chen and Henri both made purposeful steps forward, while Hamish stayed firmly planted behind them.
I mean, he'd already made it pretty clear he wasn't one bit interested. Not exactly shocking.
But did he really have to cross his arms?
Like—okay, we get it. He's not here for me. No need to be dramatic.
Apparently, Natasha had already snatched him up, and he thinks they've got something good going on already. No offence.
"None taken," I said politely.
Too bad. I was kind of interested.
I picked Chen. He seemed sweet—and he wasn't exactly hard to look at, either.
But before I could so much as link arms with him, she arrived.
New girl.
"Everyone, meet Melissa from Love Island Australia," Bella announced with a bright smile, giving her a round of applause.
"I'm Melissa," she said—like it was a threat.
"Boys, why don't you introduce yourselves?" Bella offered.
"No need. I know everyone," Melissa replied, smug and sharp.
And then—before anyone could blink—she had Chen by the arm.
Just like that.
The villa went quiet.
Not polite-quiet—reality-show quiet.
A couple of the boys exchanged side-eyes. Natasha's brows shot up. Even Bella faltered for a split second before her smile clicked back into place.
Melissa, meanwhile, was giving me that look—that smug little smirk, like the whole island was already obsessed with her.
She was clearly here for a good time—volume up, stakes low.
Bold of her. Hilarious for me.
Then Bella turned to me. "Demi, how are you feeling after that steal?"
I couldn't tell if she wanted an honest answer—or just wanted to see if I'd torch Melissa on live TV.
Tempting.
Instead, I smiled. Glossed, unbothered, and five steps ahead.
But obviously, I wasn't letting that slide.
Melissa flipped her hair. "I'm sure Demi doesn't mind me stealing Chen."
Can't blame her—if you can't have it, you might as well snatch it.
I turned to her with a smile. Sweet on the surface, sharp underneath. A velvet-wrapped warning.
"Of course not, darling. I don't mind amateurs playing—just stay out of the deep end."
And just like that, her place was exactly where it belonged—beneath me, polished and perched.
She huffed. "Well, seems like you don't want him then."
Day one and she's already auditioning for desperation.
"Seems like he doesn't want you either," I said, smiling just as sweetly.
Without a single say in the matter—I ended up paired with Henri.
He was handsome, sure. That polished, paramedic charm with a practiced grin and a voice that probably talked half the nation into CPR training.
The kind of guy who always said the right thing, always looked like a safe bet.
Girls usually melted at that smile.
But me?
I've felt more chemistry trying to light a bonfire in the pouring rain.
He was sweet. Safe. Steady.
Nice guy—just not my guy.
As if Melissa stealing Chen wasn't enough highlight for the day, the universe decided to up the chaos.
The doors swung open again.
And out walks a man who looked like a walking HR violation—in the best way possible.
Long, reddish-brown curls, tattoos working overtime across a body that clearly does not skip gym day.
He moved like he knew exactly how fine he was—and didn't feel the need to apologize for it.
Bella practically squealed. "And here he is—our latest bombshell! Give it up for Finn from Love Island UK, Season Five!"
The name landed like a firecracker. Heads turned. Whispers zipped.
The Finn.
He gave a slow smirk, then scanned the villa like he was choosing his next favorite sin. And when his eyes landed on me?
Oh. He looked interested.
Finn's voice was low, smooth, with a lilt that made everything sound like a dare.
"Alright, lovebirds. I'm Finn, 28, from Dublin. Brew craft beer by trade, flirt by nature. Here to see if lightning strikes twice… or maybe just starts a wildfire."
He winked.
Melissa nearly swooned.
I just raised a brow. Cute. But I don't do wildfires—I start them.
I'm loving this villa already.
The shirtless distractions? Definitely tailored to my taste.
Someone at casting deserves a raise.
Before I could mentally undress anyone else, Bella clapped her hands together with her signature sparkle. "I'll be leaving you in good hands—but don't worry, I won't be the only host you see this season!"
Cue the dramatic exit.
As soon as Bella's heels vanish around the corner, we all start peeling off toward our partners—splitting up to do the whole "get to know each other" thing.
"Left out already," Finn teased, flashing that lazy, lopsided grin.
I didn't even slow my step.
"You can steal the comfiest bed," I called over my shoulder. "We'll come find you later."
Henri was already waiting, all polite eagerness and safe energy. Fine by me. Even if he doesn't exactly set the villa on fire, I can at least be civil.
Besides, small talk with a man who's clearly smitten?
Harmless. Boring. Safe.
I said I'd be civil—but five minutes in and Henri's still rambling about… what was it again? Something about rowing? Or sourdough?
Whatever it is, I can feel my soul slowly leaving my body.
At least pretend to have substance, darling. Give me something to work with.
I spotted Melissa and Chen lounging on the daybed—well, Melissa lounging. Chen looked like someone had been too polite to escape a hostage situation.
I gave Henri a soft smile—merciful, really—and excused myself. Something about needing air… or a will to live.
Chen caught sight of me first. His face lit up like someone had just flipped the "fun" switch back on.
"Hey, Demi," he said, scooting over. "Come join us?"
How could I say no to that face?
"I just came to say hi," I said sweetly.
He grinned. "What, miss me already?"
"Something like that."
Melissa rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might detach a retina.
"Oh—hi, Melissa. Sorry, didn't see you there."
"I'm literally sitting right beside him."
"And?" I blinked. "Do you mind giving us a moment?"
"No," she snapped. "We're in the middle of an important conversation. You know—like a couple?"
"Ah. I see."
This girl really loves to make a scene.
Fine.
I turned to Chen, letting my gaze linger just a second longer than necessary. Then I leaned in slowly. The kind of lean that made people hold their breath.
My hair slipped forward with the motion, so I tucked it behind one ear, never taking my eyes off him.
I tilted his chin gently with my fingertips—light, but sure. A silent cue.
He blinked, caught off guard.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Melissa—jaw tight, like it might crack under the pressure.
I smiled.
And kissed him.
Chen froze for a heartbeat—stunned—but then he melted, like he'd been waiting for it. Our lips moved together, unhurried, deliberate. His hand found my waist, grounding me, pulling me into him.
Our tongues brushed—soft, slow, like a secret whispered just beneath her nose.
I pulled back barely, brushing my thumb along his bottom lip, then up to smooth his hair like I'd done it a hundred times before.
"Come find me later, yeah?"
And with a casual wave and a smile that never quite reached my eyes, I turned and walked away—leaving the taste of him, and the sound of Melissa swallowing her pride, behind me.
Melissa could keep the daybed.
I hadn't even clocked the audience—until I turned and caught their faces. Smirking. Impressed. Like I'd just dropped the season's first bomb.
"Remind me to never cross you," Natasha muttered, eyes wide.
"That was fun," I said with a shrug.
Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bedroom like we were skipping detention. We plopped down on the bed for the classic girl-gossip moment.
Except… Hamish was there too.
"Uh, what are you doing?" I asked, glancing between them.
"Don't mind me," he said flatly—didn't even look at me.
I mean—sure.
Maybe this is normal for him.
While I was still silently trying to solve the equation that was this odd individual, Natasha launched straight into her story.
Most of it was about her—obviously. Something about getting dumped as a Casa girl without so much as a glimpse inside the main villa.
I'm such a fan," she said at one point, practically glowing. "I was really hoping to meet you when I joined the show."
"Those boys had no idea what they were doing," I replied.
"I know, right?" she laughed. "But enough about me—what's been keeping you busy? You were a fan favorite, and then you just disappeared after the show."
She was trying hard to keep her excitement in check. And failing.
"You know I didn't actually disappear, right?" I said flatly. "I'm literally just in school."
Which is true. I'm at school, doing exactly what a 21-year-old girl is supposed to be doing.
Before we could dive deeper—before she could ask another question or watch Hamish pretend I wasn't there—Finn walked in.
Looking hot, of course.
"Demi," he said, flashing a grin. "Mind if I call you that?"
"Sure," I replied sweetly. "No problem."
"Nice." He turned to Nat and Hamish. "Think I could steal her for a minute?"
Nat hesitated—just for a second, her eyes flicking toward me. But it was Hamish who answered first.
"Be my guest," he said, not even glancing my way.
Like he couldn't wait to get rid of me.
"You can wait on the terrace—I'll make us a drink first," Finn said, holding the door open for me.
"It's alright, I'll come with you," I smiled. "Nothing beats watching a hunky man shake a cocktail shaker."
He laughed, and I followed him inside—because why waste a view like that?
In the kitchen, he started fussing with some mismatched bottles and a pair of shakers, looking half bartender, half mad scientist. I perched on the counter, chin in hand, watching like it was prime entertainment.
This—this—was exactly why I followed him in.
"How are you finding the villa, Demi?" he asked.
"I just know we're going to have an unforgettable summer," I said, smiling.
"Yeah… like what you did earlier. That was pretty unforgettable."
"She had it coming," I said flatly.
He shrugged. "She actually seems nice."
"Oh, is she now?" I raised a brow.
"She's being nice to me, anyway. Probably just some grafting," he chuckled.
"So," I tilted my head, "who's caught your eye?"
"All the girls are lovely—but you? You caught my eye the moment I walked in." He didn't even look at me when he said it.
Good thing he didn't—because I couldn't stop grinning if I tried.
A few minutes later, the drinks were ready, and we headed out to the terrace.
"You asked me who caught my eye," he said, settling beside me. "What about you?"
I shrugged casually. "Probably you… and Hamish."
He raised a brow. "So you like it when guys ignore you?"
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Should I start ignoring you too?" he teased.
"As if you could," I shot back.
I mean—you can try.
After that, we eased into talking about his season—mostly about how he wanted to take things slow this time around.
Apparently, he'd rushed into something with his ex during his first season. Said he jumped the gun, and things got kind of toxic—even outside the villa. Not a good look.
So now, he just wanted to take his time. Properly get to know everyone before locking in. Which, honestly, makes sense.
I mean, what else are we supposed to do in here? Sit around, tan, and not figure out who we actually like?
The whole point is to talk, vibe, and see who clicks.
Before we could talk any more, my phone buzzed.
"I got a text!" I called out, and everyone turned to look.
"We're playing something called Rated X," I read out loud.
Sounds spicy.
But no—of course not. It's just our exes rating us.
Because nothing says romantic getaway like unsolicited feedback from someone you blocked six months ago.
We gathered around the firepit, ready to start the game—but before anything could begin, a woman walked in.
Everyone lit up, excited to meet the new arrival.
Everyone except Finn.
He didn't say anything, but the shift in his posture said enough. Shoulders tense, jaw tight—he looked uncomfortable. Not surprised. Not curious. Just… tense.
Interesting.
Then the new girl stepped forward to introduce herself, all confidence and perfect timing.
"I'm Kat," she said, flashing a camera-ready smile.
"Though I doubt any of you haven't heard of me. I'm from Love Island UK."
Ah.
That explains Finn's face.
"What? Kat got your tongue, Finn?" she smirked, clearly enjoying herself.
Oh, we're doing that already?
But before she could fully unpack whatever beef she'd brought with her, Natasha stepped in—warm as ever—and introduced herself, along with her couple. Melissa followed, flashing her usual smug smile.
Then Kat turned to me, giving me a once-over that wasn't exactly subtle.
"I haven't heard of you," I said, matching her tone. "But nice to meet you anyway." I pulled her in for a hug.
She met me halfway—stiff, caught off guard.
"I'm Demi," I added, smiling as sweetly as I possibly could.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Finn trying—and failing—not to smile.
"Right," I said, turning with a small gesture, "this is Henri—the guy I'm coupled up with."
Henri gave her a polite nod, ever the gentleman. I could feel Kat clocking him like she was already sorting people into categories: useful, boring, competition.