Billy McFarland is freshly unshackled from federal prison, and he has a new hustle. This time, it’s Fyre Festival 2, a sequel to the 2017 music festival that collapsed into infamy with FEMA tents, cheese sandwiches, and a stranded influencer class tweeting their collective despair.
He’s promising redemption with a high-priced fever dream on the beaches of Isla Mujeres, Mexico. Tickets range from a reasonable $1,400 to an absolutely deranged $1.1 million, with the most expensive tier (ominously named the Prometheus Pass) offering yacht accommodations, private flights, and “one-of-a-kind experiences” with McFarland himself. (Because if there’s anyone you want handling logistics, it’s the guy who previously left VIP guests to fend for themselves in the Bahamian wilderness.)
No performers have been announced. No schedule has been released. But the promise? An “immersive experience” unlike anything before. And McFarland insists this time will be different because he’s not just trying to put on a festival. He’s trying to sell a dream.
Inside McFarland’s Million-Dollar Mystery Experience
On paper, McFarland’s pivot is almost impressive. He’s ditching the traditional music-festival model (which makes sense, given that booking artists requires credibility) and instead selling Fyre Festival 2 as a mystery-box adventure. In one interview, he hinted at MMA training sessions with professional fighters, skateboarding lessons, and island-hopping excursions, a sort of high-end survival retreat for people who think their net worth makes them invincible.
Emergency relief tents that housed stranded Fyre Festival attendees in 2017. Credit: The Cinemart/HuluBut here’s a question no one seems to be asking: How is McFarland paying for this?
He still owes $26 million in restitution to his original victims. He claims 10% of Fyre Festival 2’s proceeds will go toward repaying them, but that still leaves 90% unaccounted for. And if the past is any indicator, McFarland doesn’t spend investor money wisely.
This is the same guy who dropped millions on private jets and yachts just to shoot promo videos. Who convinced models like Bella Hadid and Kendall Jenner to endorse a fantasy that never existed. Who, post-prison, immediately jumped back into viral stunts rather than, say, laying low…forever?
So, why are people still willing to buy into this?
The Economics of Disaster Tourism: Why People Are Buying Tickets
ZUMAPRESS.com/William N. Finley IVFyre Festival’s original failure became legend because it was so awful, so publicly humiliating, that it transcended scam territory and became the first true influencer disaster epic. McFarland wasn’t just a con man. He was a character. A Netflix doc villain. A meme. And in 2025, where grifting has become its own pop-cultural genre, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
This time around, the people buying tickets aren’t necessarily naive. They’re in on the joke. They want a front-row seat to the next disaster, or, at the very least, a story they can tell on a yacht in Ibiza.
Can Lightning Strike Twice? The Odds of Fyre 2 Actually Happening
What’s crazy is Fyre Festival 2 could technically happen. Probably not in the way McFarland is selling it, but in some stripped-down, semi-functional version? Sure. If he keeps attendance low and logistics minimal, he might pull off a high-price rebrand. But it will be less a festival, and more of an NFT-era social experiment for the ultra-rich.
With McFarland’s entire brand built on failing spectacularly, his audience today likely isn’t looking for a well-run event. They’re looking for chaos, a viral moment, and a chance to say, “I survived Fyre Festival 2.”
That’s exactly what they might get.