He slowly fell back into his bed as he tried his best to deal with his ever growing headache. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, but his mind forbid him.

'It isn't fair,' he thought. Still, even his thoughts had only made his headache worse. He couldn't believe he already wanted the show to be over, yet he knew he could never quit. How in Hell's name did this happen to him...the one and only Chris Maclean. He had the perfect hair, the perfect teeth, the perfect style...everything about him was perfect. If his perfection was fact, then how could he be consumed by this horrific nightmare. This would never happen back home in L.A. How could it when his popularity back in the good old U.S. of A. was off the charts? From California to New England to the large open spaces of the south, Chris Maclean was a pop culture god. Still, Chris couldn't live with the delusion he created anymore. He wasn't perfect and he would never be. It was the true Chris Maclean that forced him to take refuge from the United States' celebrity scene. With a terrible marriage ending in a controversial divorce, drug addictions, and brutally dark fetishes, Chris Maclean couldn't afford to risk his image of perfection. Then there was also the threat of the American Public becoming over saturated with, in the words of bloggers and E.T., Chris-Mania. Chris had no choice but to maintain a low profile. It was after two months that his Public Relations Specialists or his "Yes-Men" came up with this so called "Great Idea." It was simple or least it was suppose to be simple (As all great ideas were). While Chris was indeed quite famous in the United States, his presence in the international scene was less then to be desired. Honestly, it was so pathetic that only that idiot Geoff knew who, let alone how great, Chris Maclean was.

"So why not increase your influence and fame abroad?" chirped his pathetic Yes-Men, "It could be the best move of your life." Chris instantly found himself rolling his eyes that the thought of that last line.

'As if that wasn't an unoriginal line,' Maclean thought bitterly. Still, what other choice did he have? There was always the constant threat of becoming then a footnote in some trashy small town tabloid back home. Even then, Chris couldn't be away from the United States too long without the threat of being simply forgotten. Even after worrying about his domestic celebrity status, he was still forced to worry about improving and developing his international image. That was the only reason why he even bothered to waste his time in the "Great White North" that the world simply called Canada. Ironically, Chris's lowest level of popularity existed in the country that was essentially the hat of North America. He originally had nothing but disdain for group of people that he personally consider to be both unintelligent and uncultured. Too bad it took only one Canadian devil to prove to him that he was beyond wrong.

She quickly begun to enter his thoughts after he locked her away in the dark voids of his mind.

She was beautiful. She was sexy, and she proved herself to be something more then a simple teenage girl. Now Maclean's future rested in the hands of that little spoiled succubus who wanted her own claim to fame...or in her bizarre necklace to be precise. Maclean's thoughts were instantly dominated by that weird necklace hybrid. While Chris never was or never will be the techno-nerd that Cody was, he still knew all the latest and hottest technology on the market, and that necklace was certainly hot and trendy. Besides, any necklace such as that would have to cost a small fortune, and didn't the high taxes make all Canadians dirt poor? That was apparently not the case for the harpy's precious daddy.

'Well if the dude is simply an inventor?' was all that Chris could think of. It would explain why he didn't see anything similar to it in the shops on Sunset Boulevard, or in the multiple districts of Tokyo. Still, the thought did nothing to comfort him. If anything, the thought had only sent a jolt of fear and horror through him. If her father was intelligent to make a camera from scratch , then how intelligent could she be? The number of possibilities only made Chris Maclean shudder. In the end, he was a fool for falling for her. He was a fool for letting her seduce him. Obviously, he was a guy, and every guy had his needs. Plus, Chris wasn't anymore of a pig or a womanizer then the average Hollywood, but how could he be so desperate? How could he be so eager after just a few cheap words and nothing else. Chris's questions now forced into another period of self-pity. Total Drama Island was suppose to be all about him. He was the one who bought a faltering Canadian television studio to make his dream show. He was suppose to be his turn to transcend the world of A-list celebrities into the world of Entertainment artists and visionaries. Even without the pluses of more fame and fortune, Total Drama Island was suppose to be his own custom-designed therapy secession for him to enjoy. It was the perfect opportunity to forget his divorce, overcome his worthless addictions, and have a chance to satisfy his sadistic fantasies. Now, Total Drama Island would be nothing more then Hell on Earth. Worst of all, Chris Maclean was now a slave to that stupid girl...that damn Heather Thorn. Chris hated her with a passion, but something else lurked in his heart and soul. Was it love? How could love exist after a single one night stand? Then it must have been some sick twisted lust. What else could it be?

A couple of hours passed and Chris Maclean's headache had finally vanished. Too bad another one was about to begin. She slipped silently and slowly into Chris's luxury tent (if it could be be qualified as such). Still' her stealth did not the powerful eyes of Chris Maclean from capturing their master's tormentor. Unlike previously, her new appearance was more attractive in Maclean's view. She wore a cliché but oddly stunning uniform that seemed personally designed for some Catholic School girl harlot. Her tall heals were Jet Black, and she wore a bright red tie with a golden hammer and sickle. The final piece of this dark masterpiece was her head. Her grayish-black hair covered half of her face, leaving the other half with a seductive glow. Her single gray eye watched Chris with a deep intensity, and he hated it. He was anger at the fact that she would even dare violate his personal space, but something else consumed his heart as well.

"Glad to see me?" she asked with her arrogant smile.

"Why in Hell's name would I ever be glad to see you?" responded Chris negatively.

"If I remember correctly, you weren't nearly as bitter on our first night together," retorted Heather Thorn smugly.

"Fine! Just so I can be freaking clear for you, I'll spell it out. 'A-G-A-I-N'.' Is that accurate enough for you!?!" At this point, Heather simply rolled her eyes, and begun to explore the inner workings of Chris's tent. Minutes passed before Chris forced himself to break the ice that now dominated the tent.

"So what's with the...new outfit?" Heather immediately sighed at hearing his words and responded with a sting of sarcasm.

"What? Can't anyone around here have a change of Wardrobe? It's not like we're in a cartoon or something."

"Well, about that...Hey! What the Hell are you doing to my i-Pod?

"Who has an i-Pod in shape of themselves?" asked Heather.

"Celebrities," stated Chris in a oblivious tone. Once again, Heather rolled her eyes and began to look through Chris's play list.

"Let's see what we got here," mumbled Heather quietly, "Three Days Grace, Smashing Pumpkins, 10 years, Breaking Benjamin, Korn, Metallica, what a dark and angry collection you have here Chris...I like."

"Shouldn't you be listening to some corporate boy bands or the latest Britney Spears wannabe?"

"Eww. What kind of girl do you think I am? I would think it would be obvious that I was above that kind of tasteless trash."

"Well, from the looks of it, you appear to be a soviet 'working girl'"

Heather simply shook her head and began to mumble once more. Still, what Heather did next was a complete surprise to Chris. She quickly removed herself from her spot, and headed towards him as a vixen. Her hair no longer covered her other eye as a small smile grew on her face. Chris became completely speechless as an infinite amount of thoughts raced across his mind at over a million miles a minute. She finally reached his bed and began to lower herself horizontal to him. Chris immediately found himself sweating as she placed her head on the center of his chest.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Heather in an almost mocking tone. Chris simply remained silent and started to sit up. As if Chris's motions were some secret signal, Heather naturally lowered her head into his lap, and closed her eyes in an almost peaceful manner. It was at that moment that Chris knew where this was going to go. He knew that it was wrong. He knew she was evil, but it was if some outside force forbid him to resist. Maclean quickly placed his right hand in her hair and used it as a brush. Heather's hair was beautiful, even if it did seem to show some unnatural signs of old age. Still, his favorite part was its smell...almost like the Blood Red Roses back home in Beverly Hills. It was not long until other hand began to touch her milk white arms. They made a Siberian Winter feel like an ordinary Californian summer. Still, it felt wonderful and Chris could never deny that. Without though, Chris kissed Heather's small lips. He loved how they tasted like cherries. He continued to go deeper in her mouth with his tongue. As he reached new levels of pleasure, a ferocious anger quickly grew at rapid speeds. Maclean immediately stopped and glared at Heather Thorn with a red hot intensity. Now it was Heather's turn to be confused as her eyes rapidly opened in a surprised manner. Her face was now dominated by a variety of questioning looks.

"I suppose you are going to call this rape to?" whispered Chris in a purely hateful manner. Heather simply smiled at his question and responded in a calm and relaxed tone.

"I don't have to. As you can clearly see, I don't have the camera on me, I'm not faking any tears, and I definitely have not been paying you any childish compliments. If you haven't noticed, I don't need anymore evidence to ruin your life. Anyway, that's besides the point. You're a man, and I'm a woman. As sexual creatures, we have needs that need to be fulfilled. Now, while I can get any one of the guys on the island, I can't afford to be viewed as a hypersexual slut on international television. Another plus, about you besides your 'love tent' is the fact that you are clearly more experienced than any of the other morons here. Clearly, it's a win-win situation. What more could you want?

Chris just stared at her blankly. His anger was destroyed by a flood of confusion and lust. She was right. The Great Chris Maclean was becoming dominated by a "hunger" that only she could stop.

"If this is the only chance I have to be the master instead of the slave, then so be it," thought Chris. He immediately moved around and got on top of her. Chris soon kissed Heather Thorn again, but this time he did it in a passionately brutal manner. Heather's eyes quickly filled with the glow of excitement and sin. To both souls, the hours passed by rapidly, even if they lacked the moans of the first.

Author's Note: Sorry for such the long wait. I hoped everyone liked it! Good News is that I have the ending planned out, but the bad news is that my other story won't be updated until this one is done. Still, GwenxDuncan might appear in the next update. Anyway, I'm sorry if I offended anyone. I was just trying to capture the hateful sides of Chris and Heather. Also, please tell me if you think the story is to graphic for a teen rating. Again, Creative Criticisms, suggestions, etc. are all welcomed. Also, tell me if you would like the story to continue. Anonymous Reviews are allowed, and sorry how mumbled this note is. Enjoy life!