A/N: Thirtieth chapter! Cool! But snap! I haven't updated in...ten months. Holy cow. For anyone who alerted/watched carefully, I'm sorry, even more so than last time. Not only did I have real life stuff, I also lost my purpose with this fic. I guess with TDA being completed and me getting into prime time TV again, I sort of lost my drive. But with Total Drama World Tour (TDW for short because the extra T doesn't jive with the three letter acronym so common in the TD franchise) premiering in less than a week now, I figured I might as well play catch-up. I've been settling back into a writing groove, and now that I've been running into writer's blocks with my other fics, I can get back to this.
It's weird, actually. These are my roots in fic writing, and I totally forgot them. I guess it's a back to basics thing. I need to get back to where I started. So as a result, any grammar errors (such as the whole quotes thing which I've noticed in my ten month break) and styles that I maintained back when I was updating regularly have been kept. That way, I don't shock too many people with a sudden change. I'd prefer to let the plot do that, thank you very much. And I think you'll be shocked by where I've taken this fic.
Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Enjoy.
By the next afternoon, things had settled into a somewhat normal way of life. For one thing, around midnight, the rain had stopped, and by 2 AM, Chef was reunited with his records. However, he was still not a happy camper because it was a challenge day, a day to toughen DJ up.
The ground was relatively dry (summer heat had dried it quickly), and the teams worked together to haul out a wood table and benches, a poolside chair, and a soccer ball Duncan had brought with him to TDI in the event of an off-day.
Julie, Izzy and Owen were playing Go Fish, and Leshawna and Harold were playing another card game. Izzy soon made a show of shuffling the cards, and Julie shuffled the same deck soon after. This turned into a heated game of "Who Can Shuffle Cards in a Cooler Fashion" rather than Go Fish, which solicited a few looks of astonishment from Harold and Leshawna. Heather was relaxing in the chair, and Justin and Duncan were getting along somewhat and kicking around the soccer ball. DJ, tired from last night's workout with Chef, decided to take a nap in the sun, and fell asleep on the grass, stuffed gray bear in hand. Justin and Duncan decided to kick the soccer ball to each other by bouncing it off DJ's butt. DJ was too tired to know this was taking place.
Confession Cam
"Izzy and Julie think they're so cool. But did they spend three whole entire summers at Magic Steve's Magic Camp? Allow me to demonstrate my mad magic skills by producing THE ACE OF SPADES!" When Harold saw what the picture was, to Tawny and Blaire's extreme dissatisfaction, started to laugh. "Oh, hey, how did that get in there?" He looked over at the still dissatisfied Tawny and Blaire. "I think this belongs to you." He left the ladies with the picture they slipped in his pocket: a still of the guys' prank on Harold back in TDI.
Leshawna had, once again, stolen some sandwiches from the tent for everyone to eat, even Julie and Heather. Lindsay was now holding the red box of sandwiches. "I can't believe you managed to steal these from lunch!" Lindsay commented to Leshawna before eating a half of a sandwich. "Yummers!"
Suddenly, Beth came running into the vicinity. "I call this," She charged in with a one handed cartwheel, and no one quite knew how she was doing it. "The Egg Salad Firework!" She then launched herself up into the air, and landed with a split. "Drumroll!" She then threw eight sandwiches stolen from lunch up into the air, ready to eat them. Owen, spotting the delicious food, ran and caught the sandwiches before they fell down Beth's throat. He then, with unprecedented speed, ran to every other contestant and gave them a sandwich. "Owen, stop stealing my sammies!"
Owen had done this once before already, and 16 sandwiches had been collectively digested by the other contestants due to this. "What are you talking about?" Owen chuckled nervously, sounding muffled due to the food in his mouth.
"You disgust me Owen!" Leshawna added, chewing on a sandwich, with Harold nodding in agreement.
"Yeah!" Heather had half a sandwich in her hand. "What kind of pig are you?"
"You're ALL stealing them?" Beth yelled, unheeded by anyone.
"Chef's food has gotten SO good! MmmMMM!" Justin smiled, mouth full of sandwich, and was interrupted by DJ's snoring. DJ was dreaming about his talk with Chef, which caused him to contort his face into one of guilt. None of the contestants realized this though.
Beth and Lindsay were standing by DJ, eating Leshawna's sandwiches. "This is fun, huh Bestie? Imagine if there was no challenge today!" Beth beamed at Lindsay.
"Oh my gosh, we could totally just hang out! And braid each others' hair! I would love that Bestie!" Lindsay didn't want to be inside though; she preferred being outside in the sun. After three days of cowering in fear of lightning and thunder, a sunny day was a godsend.
"Some of us are trying to keep up our strength to actually win the competition." Heather approached her former alliance mates, half a sandwich in hand, and turned away in scorn. This solicited a glare from Beth.
Lindsay's smile fell from her face. "We don't think there is one today." Heather's eyes went wide in shock; Chris was pretty late today, and considering his predictability by being unpredictable, Lindsay could quite possibly be right. However, Heather kept her cruel façade up in front of Lindsay and Beth.
"There better be. I am here to win a million dollars," She started to walk away, but did so by crossing Beth and Lindsay. "And the faster I eliminate you two pathetic, spineless followers, the better."
Confession Cam
"You see those little bumps back there?" Lindsay pointed at a picture of her X-ray from her physical before coming to TDI. "Those are totally a spine! I'm not a follower! Like at Cheerleading, I'm right in the middle of the pyramid and when all my sisters and I decide on something, like where to go shopping or whatevs, I'm always the third vote! That's not bad!"
"You have two sisters, including yourself. That's three." Blaire pointed out.
Lindsay put a hand to her mouth in shock. "Oh. Well I can change if that's okay with you guys!" Blaire facepalmed in frustration. Working with the mentally challenged was tough.
Chris was very late for one reason and one reason only: he had overslept. Last night was taxing for him, and now he had to go up to the hill and get ready for some stunt magic. Dressed up and ready to go, he went over to the surveillance tent and made his announcement. "ATTENTION ALL TOTAL DRAMA VICTIMS! PLEASE MEET ME IN THE NORTHEAST CORNER OF THE STUDIO-PALOOZA! BRING LOZENGES…THE SCREAMING'S GONNA HURT." Chris shut off the intercom and chuckled to himself. "Who in their right mind brought lozenges? Damn, I'm awesome!"
"That you are Chris." Chase mumbled. He was a little miffed; he kept having dreams about awful things happening to the people he cared about on the film lot. He soon became mystified though, for he couldn't find Courtney. "Hey, where's Courtney?"
"Not my problem dude. Find her yourself." Chase was about to argue that she WAS his problem, but Chris had already left for announcing the latest challenge. He certainly couldn't leave his post, so finding Courtney would have to wait.
"Oh…there IS a challenge." Beth gulped down her sandwich and put her hand to her chin. "Just promise we can still do the hair braiding?" She looked up at Lindsay, still holding the box of sandwiches.
"I think I'll do a French!"
At the same time, another conversation was occurring as the group slowly separated into their teams as they trudged up the hill. "What do you think the challenge's gonna be?" Izzy, who seemed to have boundless amounts of energy, ran circles around a still somewhat glum Julie.
For some reason, Julie couldn't seem to let go of what happened in the latest challenge. It was a horrible flaw of hers in her other life in the real world, but now she was seriously doubtful if that indeed was the REAL world. It seemed familiar, yet foreign now. "I don't know. But if there's screaming…I can think of horror movies. That's scream-inducing." Julie indeed had no clue what the genre was for the day. After her recent argument with Blaire, she hadn't taken the time to go and set things right again, even in the rain. Julie's flaws were coming back at a rapid rate, and there seemed to be no way to stop them.
Beth's POV
We were separated in our teams at the top of the hill. It looked almost the same as it did during the film challenge. Now Heather was pacing around, really, REALLY angry. "We walked all the way over here and Lieutenant Slick can't even be bothered to show up?"
"Maybe he's racked up too much overtime figuring out new ways to torture us." Justin commented lazily from his position against a studio light. A scream suddenly made itself known, and I looked up to see Chris falling down. I turned away, but I heard a sound of metal going through something.
The contestants screamed, and I felt myself get splattered by some liquid. When I looked back, I saw what must have been a dream. Chris had a studio lamp through him! And Justin was slowly backing away. I screamed, but all that came out was a hoarse noise. It was sure to bring up a few questions.
Justin waved his hand in front of Chris's eyes. They didn't move. Justin breathed a sigh of relief. "Guess the producers don't like paying overtime." Justin looked so cute covered in the red stuff, but that comment was a little harsh.
"I'm worth every dime!" Chris was suddenly alive! That scared me, but not enough to make me scream.
"Aw man, I was just going to call dibs on your boat." Duncan walked up to the now-alive Chris. Chris had a boat? And Duncan would be mean enough to steal it? All of these contestants were very mean!
"It's the magic of cinema boys and girls! I'm absolutely perfectly crystal-ly fine!" He even removed the top part of the studio lamp, the spot it had been on completely clean. "Want to see how it's done?"
"NO!" All of the contestants, myself included, yelled at him.
Chris was never one to listen to our requests though. "Our crackerjack effects team seals fake blood into a thin membrane of plastic called a squib. This little baby bursts on impact. An old-fashioned optical illusion helps sell that I get impaled."
"Can we just get on with this?" Duncan answered in his normal dissatisfied tone.
"I can't believe you're so unscarable! You didn't even scream!" Lindsay commented to me. I knew I'd get questions about this sooner or later.
"I did on the inside. I just can't do it on the outside."
"Huh?"
"When I was ten, and they were doing my tonsillectomy," I faced Justin to make sure he'd hear the story too. "There was a freak accident and the doctor's earring fell in my throat. Can't scream worth a darn." I turned back to Lindsay to see her reaction.
"Get OUT!" She was in shock and awe, I knew. I smiled at her reaction.
"Serious."
"Time for today's totally terrifying blood-curdling horror movie challenge!" Chris began walking to us, all the while looking at the camera crew. "To find out which team gets which challenge, a SCREAM-OFF! Think of every great horror movie you've ever seen."
Izzy chuckled. "Oh my gosh, you guys. Did you see that one with the possessed rug that learned to walk and smothered cats? Or did I make that up?" Random, but Chris started talking again.
"All horror movies have one thing in common: fantastic screaming from actors. And the killers who snuff them." I noticed Justin's eyes go wide at that comment. "Each team, pick a serial killer. The rest of you will be the screamers. If your serial killer can make you scream the loudest, your team wins!" Chris put his hands up and grinned his usual grin. "Down to the studios everyone!"
Leshawna's POV
We were gathered by Studio 4 to discuss who our serial killer would be. DJ was huddled on the ground, and Julie, who normally led discussions, wouldn't speak at all, so Heather took charge. "We have to pick Duncan, of course." The whiny bitch said, and again, I found myself agreeing with her. "Have you ever seen someone so serial killer-y?" She had the props Chris had given to us on the hill, a hockey mask and a red jug of fake blood.
"I'm terrified of him on a daily basis." I turned my head to see Harold cringing and shivering as he spoke.
"Plus he nailed the other acting challenges." I decided to speak up.
Heather was ready to hand the hockey mask to Duncan, but suddenly, a large hand reached down and pried the hockey mask from Heather's hands. "DJ's gotta do it!"
"But it's the first time our team has ever agreed on anything!" Harold argued, and he was right too. I glanced at Julie, who wasn't talking, but had an evil glare in her eyes directed at Chef.
"DJ! He's doing it."
"Listen Chef, maybe you can stick to your area of expertise with the sandwiches and I'll stick to mine." Chef didn't take Duncan's persuasion too well and lifted him up by the head and held on tight to one of his arms.
"Do you like having your arms attached to your torso?" Chef growled in a low voice.
Confession Cam
"Arms are good. They throw things, feed you things, there's something to put in your sleeves, and if there's one thing I learned in Home Ec class: always listen to the dude with the knives." Duncan rolled his arms a bit. "Damn, that still hurts."
"Actually, your brain tells your arms to do all of that stuff, so that means your brain is really the good one and not so much the arms. You can live without arms, but not a brain you know." Tawny chirped. Duncan just rolled his eyes and left the Confessional.
Chef promptly threw Duncan into the metal wall of Studio 4 and picked DJ up from the ground and shoved the hockey mask into his hands before walking off.
"Since when does Chef interfere in challenges? Smells kinda funny to me." DJ was up to something, and I had a feeling it wasn't good.
"Oh, that's me, sorry." Harold pulled out a smelly, old, rotten sandwich. "I was saving them for later."
"You guys have got to let me be the killer! The mask offers good protection from my beautiful face." I could see the Grips were discussing who was going to be their serial killer, and Justin put the hockey mask over his face. Frankly, he shouldn't do that. He's so beautiful to look at!
"Okay! I am such the better scarer! My own dog is terrified of me, okay?" Izzy was one crazy girl, and if she scared her dog, she was scarier than I ever thought possible.
"Ow." Duncan was rubbing his head as he came limping to our group. "I can't believe Chef. When I get my hands on him—" A mask was suddenly shoved into his hands by none other than Julie. I gave her a weird look, Duncan gave her a weird look, everyone except DJ (who was too paralyzed) and the other team gave her a weird look.
"Chef's not here right now. We can have him be the serial killer and guarantee a win."
"I'm sorry, did you hear that?" Heather cupped her ear with one hand. However, I could hear Lindsay suddenly yell at her team.
"BETH IS GOING TO BE OUR SERIAL KILLER AND THAT IS THAT!"
Confession Cam
"Can I just tell you that felt so delicious? It was almost better than being pretty!" Lindsay paused, thinking over her statement. "Well, almost." Giggling, Lindsay dashed out of the confessional.
"Whoa." Tawny said. "I didn't think anything was better than being pretty for her..."
"You learn something new every day, I guess." Blaire shrugged.
"It sounded like a backstabbing traitor!" I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation because Heather started talking again. She glared at Julie. "Why should we follow what you say?"
"Because I'm right! DJ can't scare anyone for his life! The task has to fall to Duncan!"
"I'm not about to get Chef hell-bent on killing us all." I argued against her. I was still a little sore with her over the last challenge, but I really didn't want Chef to attempt to kill us.
"Me neither." Harold declared. He whispered to me, "He terrifies me."
"I don't feel like getting thrown against a studio wall again, thanks." Duncan sarcastically added.
"Then report him! He's not supposed to be interfering in the challenges anyway, right Leshawna? There's bound to be somebody here who will punish Chef for his actions!"
"Not Chris; he'll like the drama for it too much to care." I argued, still trying to prevent Julie from doing anything.
"Somebody else. Someone on the camera crew, an intern, anybody! But if we want to win, we can't let this happen. DJ's not even fit to scare anyone; he's still paralyzed!"
"Like I said," I started. "I don't want to die so young." Heather, Harold, and Duncan nodded in agreement.
Julie gritted her teeth and snarled. "If you won't help, then I will!" She broke off into a mad dash, and the first thing Harold did was grab onto her arm tight. "GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU NERD!"
I immediately went to Harold's aid and grabbed Julie's other arm. "You're out of control! You need to stay here with us and let DJ be the killer!"
"NO!" She took another step away from the studios. "I WON'T LET YOU GIVE THIS UP SO EASILY!"
Heather grabbed Harold's waist and started pulling in an effort to hold Julie back. "Don't waste your vocal cords! We need them to win!"
"I'll waste them however I want!" But Julie wouldn't scream, she just kept growling and snarling like a rabid puppy. She wouldn't stop either; she kept shuffling with us in tow, holding her back as best as we could. She looked back at us, and saw Duncan give the mask to DJ, who took it with shaking hands.
She sighed, and stopped moving. "I give up. You really want to bring me down with you." She looked down to the ground. "Fine." She looked up, a steely look in her eyes, and nodded. "I'll put in my best effort."
I smiled at her for the first time in ages. For now, she was being an okay sister. "All right!" I held up my hand for a high five, which she gladly did. "Let's do this!"
Harold's POV
We were led into Studio 10 with Chris. Six sets were ready for us, one that portrayed a dark forest, another one with one green port-a-potty and another one with one blue port-a-potty, and the last two were sets of the inside of a wood cabin with a couch ready for people to sit on.
"Okay, serial killers, get out there!" DJ and Beth left to the dark recesses of the set. "Justin, Harold, you're the scarers. Have fun!" He waved before sending us off. GOSH! I ended up, along with Justin, being chosen for our first part of the challenge—by Chris! That IDIOT! Of course, he probably expects us both to fail miserably, so I guess I could give him credit for that.
The lights above the set were turned off as soon as Justin and I set foot on it. I could see Chris grinning deviously, and I shivered, getting into character as much as possible, going so far as to letting a bit of mucus drip from my nose.
"Dude," Justin walked up to me after a minute of wandering around. "You should see a doctor about that."
"I have allergies, all right? GOSH!" I walked away from him seething, but I was still able to listen to Chris.
"All right, Justin and Harold, prepare yourselves for your killers to enter." Chris was now seated on a director's chair. "And then, I want HUGE, MASSIVE, GINORMOUS SCREAMS! We'll be measuring the volume on our Scream-o-Meter!" He pointed up to nothing, and I could only guess that the Scream-o-Meter would be added in digitally. However, an actual scream sounded out through the studio, so I guessed that the meter was real. "Lights!" A few studio lights flashed on. "Camera!" One of the camera guys, a blond haired male wearing a gray shirt and blue board shorts rolled his eyes and hoisted the camera up, beeping red. "ACTION!" Another guy wearing green shorts and a white tank top clapped the clapboard.
I left Justin, not wanting to hear anymore of his mean jibes. However, I decided to turn around and walk the other way from where I had been walking. While doing so, I saw Beth pop out of the fake bushes.
"BOOO!" She wasn't scary at all, and Justin knew this.
"Aaaahhhh, I'm so scared." He fake-acted as best as he could, but that wasn't a loud scream! Even I could see that! A few beeps indicated that the Scream-o-Meter agreed with me. "I'm sorry; I just can't risk my pipes any further. What good is a face like this without my warm, yet manly tones to back it up?"
I heard a loud growl, enough to scare me just a little bit. I kept walking though, and DJ soon bumped into me. He looked as though he had just run away from a ghost or something.
"Oh, hey DJ. What's up?" He didn't even have his hockey mask on, and he looked very unsure of himself. He looked away to the back of the set, and then back at me. He put on his hockey mask and gave a low growl. I screamed as best as I could, which wasn't very loud compared to the screaming in scary movies. The beeps said otherwise.
"With a solid 50 on the Scream-o-Meter," Chris got up from his chair and faced the cameras. "Let's notch one up for DJ, Harold, and the Screaming Gaffers!"
I saw Lindsay and Leshawna being shown to the sets with the port-a-potties. I hope Leshawna wins this for us!
Lindsay's POV
"The leader shouldn't have to compete!" I glared at Chip as he was pushing me to the blue port-a-potty.
"Okay, you're hot and all, but sorry! I like torture more!" He opened the door and shoved me in. "Have fun!" And he slammed the door on me. I saw a camera off to the side, and I decided to talk to it.
"That was an accidental tinkle on screen last season! I'm not doing it again! And how am I supposed to be scared when I know Beth is coming in any minute and she's not scary at—" The door was suddenly flung open, and all I could see was the hockey mask and hear a roar. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
DJ's POV
I prepped myself for a second outside of the green port-a-potty. You can do this DJ. You can scare the pants off of Leshawna. You can do this. I took in a breath, put on the hockey mask, and opened the door in a flash.
I immediately shielded my eyes. Leshawna was on the toilet! Momma always says it's not proper to barge in on someone on the toilet. "Oh, I'm sorry! I—I busted in on your private moment. Boy is my face red!" I could feel my face burn up as I saw Leshawna glare at me.
"You want to win? Do the scene DJ!" I couldn't do anything, I just couldn't!
"Rargh." I gave a small roar and formed my hand into a claw.
There was a scream outside, and I could only hear bits of Beth and Lindsay's screaming. Leshawna wasn't screaming though. It looked like she was…snickering!
"I'm sorry." She gave a high pitched laugh. "I'm sorry, I just—I'm supposed to be afraid of this marshmallow?" She jerked a thumb at me and looked at the camera in the port-a-potty. "This—This big ol' kitten of a DJ?" She started laughing again! Really not cool! Outside, I could hear Chris.
"And that's round two to Beth, Lindsay, and the Killer Grips with a pee-fueled 85 on the Scream-o-Meter!"
We were escorted to the set that looked like the inside of a log cabin. I was standing by Duncan and Heather, who were reading the script, but I kept listening to the conversation Chris was having with Izzy and Owen.
"All right guys, this is the tiebreaker scene. You're gonna have to act your faces off!"
"Ooohhh boy, I'm not the world's greatest actor—" Owen chuckled and looked over to Izzy.
Izzy chuckled. "Oh, how horror movie is this? We have to make out."
"I LOVE THIS BUSINESS! Hubba hubba." Owen threw the script away and immediately, Izzy leapt to Owen and the two started making out ravenously.
"Awkward." Chris summed up my reaction too.
Heather gasped as she finished reading the script. "No. No, no, no. I would rather die." She even threw away the script for extra emphasis.
"That makes two of us lady." Duncan dropped his script. If the scripts were the same, then that meant they didn't want to kiss each other! I guessed that it was due to Heather hating Duncan and Duncan already having a girlfriend—or some sort of relationship with Courtney. I couldn't tell half the time.
Chris, who had been hiding behind the couch, suddenly popped up. "Don't forget kiddies! It's a million bucks!" He dropped down to the ground again.
Both scrunched their faces in disgust, but I knew both would do anything for the money. They slowly leaned in, and then once their lips met, their eyes shot wide open and they flew to other sides of the red couch, screaming in disgust.
Courtney's POV
I was pacing the length of the surveillance room, glancing at the screens every so often. What I had just seen…ugh! It made me feel like killing someone!
"Court, what are you doing?" I ignored his question and kept pacing. "All right, here's your water." He threw it to me, which I gladly caught, but still didn't drink. I couldn't do anything, even though I wanted to, and the only way I could expel my anger was to pace angrily across the floor. "You shouldn't be drinking water all the time. Why not drink some wine? Soda? Juice from concentrate? Something sugary! I broke up with Tawny."
I stopped. "How could you? She loves you!"
"Now that I have your ATTENTION," He sat down in his swivel chair. "What the hell's wrong with you? You're wearing in a walking path. And by the way, I didn't break up with her; that was just to make you stop pacing."
"Did you see this?" I rewound the saved footage to show Duncan and Heather agreeing to kiss one another for the money.
"Well, wouldn't you do it too?" I attempted to protest, but I was cut off. "See? You can be such a hypocrite sometimes." He sipped from a Rio Sun juice bag.
"I am NOT a hypocrite! That was just a—a misunderstanding!"
"Uh huh, right. Besides, you didn't see what happened AFTER that." He now took the liberty of playing the rest of the footage to show them curling in disgust. "You didn't get up to pace after you heard that first part did you?"
"So what if I did?"
"You need to have a little bit more faith in people." He sipped from the juice bag again. "Really."
DJ's POV
"You taste like street!" Heather wiped her mouth in disgust. I took this chance to try to scare them, but it seems they didn't notice. However, Heather let out a scream that registered on the Scream-o-Meter. "My lips may never recover!"
I looked over to Beth, who was trying her best to scare Izzy and Owen, who were still relentlessly making out. "I'm going to chop you into little teriyaki bits!" Nothing happened. "Um, guys?"
They took a break from their make-out session. "Hm? Oh," Izzy joined Owen as they both gave a non-enthusiastic scream before going back to making out.
Meanwhile, a large mass suddenly came in front of us, wearing a hockey mask and wielding a chainsaw. He gave a loud scream and waved the chainsaw up in the air. Duncan, Heather, and I all screamed, and then I felt the world fade to black.
Chris's POV
Oh, this was almost too good! But Chef wasn't allowed to interfere in challenges, not if I didn't want to get fired! I made no effort to hold back my joy. "Well, looks to me like DJ and the well-named Screaming Gaffers have won this one! Seeing as they buried the needle, join us after the break to see if DJ's still alive!" He was crumpled over the sofa between Duncan and Heather, and I attempted to call out to him. "DJ…Come in, DJ. Earth to—"
"You're not going to get anywhere like that!" Julie suddenly burst onto the set. "One of you, help me get him lying down on the couch. He won't want to wake up crumpled like that." I was an onlooker as Julie, Duncan, and Heather pushed him onto his side so he was sitting upright in the chair. The Grips had also caught wind of this, and they along with the Gaffers were standing over DJ, waiting for him to wake up.
"Is he breathing?" Beth asked everyone.
"For your sakes," Julie glared pointedly at Chef and I. "I hope you didn't knock him out on purpose."
"I think he's saying something." Everyone quieted down as they attempted to hear what DJ was saying in his sleep.
DJ's POV
I found myself high in pink and orange colored clouds. Was I in Heaven? It sure seemed like it, but a scream couldn't have killed me, unless that killer killed me first. Oh no! What happened to Duncan? And Heather? What about the others? "Mama?" I needed to talk to her first.
I kept searching from my position on the strangely solid clouds. I then saw the familiar red coat, red hat, and blue skirt of my mom. "Mama! I'm here! Mama!" She turned around, but she seemed very angry. "It's me mama! It's Poopydoo!" I even used my nickname to see if she would remember me. "Your little Devon Joseph Poopydoo!"
"The son I raised would NEVER lie! Or cheat!" And she smacked me across the face. Mama was suddenly gone, and I was back on TDA with Heather glaring me in the face. I rubbed my chin and concluded she was the one who had slapped me back into reality. I would've thanked her, but there were other things I needed to do first.
"I need to see Chef." And she gave me another slap to my face. Darn, she can hit!
"Heather!" I could hear Leshawna chastise her.
"What? He's still talking crazy!"
"Chef's in a meeting with the producers. A disciplinary meeting!" Chris told me. "He's in TROOUUUBBBLLLLEEEE! Not allowed to mess with the challenges!" I knew this was wrong! I knew this was illegal! There was one thing I had to do tonight!
Chris's POV
I discerned with my ears a grumble from Leshawna. "I knew something was up!"
"You're like Albert Einstein with better hair and girly bits." Harold, not cool dude, not cool!
"Moving right along," I interrupted the conversation to avoid any more censurable material. "It's time to pack up those overnight bags, loser Grips! You and your sleeping bags are spending the night in the dining hall! Gaffer winners, back to the comfort of the trailers for a little R&R! I'll see you there in half an hour!" The teams dispersed, probably to eat, and now I had enough time to eat dinner!
Leshawna's POV
We were limited to a half hour in the tent to eat. Apparently, Chris wanted us to stick to his rules like glue. Tensions were still running high; the tent was silent. I glanced at the Grips, and Justin was giving our table a death glare. I noticed Duncan glaring right back as I shoved a spoonful of macaroni and cheese into my mouth. It's strange how they were buddies this afternoon, only to be enemies at night.
Julie scoffed as she picked at her dinner. Heather immediately saw an opening for a bitchy remark. "We still won. Why are you so upset?"
"We might not win the next challenge. And if that happens, one of us has to go home."
"Then I know exactly who's going home."
"So. Do. I." Julie glared at Heather.
"Maybe it would be wise for you two to stop—" Harold attempted to intervene, only to be quickly shot down by the two girls.
"Shut up Harold!" Duncan began to flick his knife in and out of its holder. All DJ could do was look scared.
"You two have been arguing ever since the challenge ended." I commented, expecting the worse out of both girls.
"It's only because SOME people don't appreciate what they win!" Heather glared at Julie.
"Well, maybe it'd be better if it was a CLEARER win! I don't understand you—any of you—" She rose from her seat and looked down on us as if we were monsters. "Anymore. I just don't know any of you. You're all different, changed." She looked as if she were about to say more, but instead, she turned and ran out of the tent.
A minute or two later, Chris walked into the tent.
"Gafferinos! Time to hightail it out to the trailers! Grips! Get your overnight bags; you'll be staying here for the night. Chef, clean—"
Chef growled at Chris, a butcher knife in his hand. "Chef, please leave the kitchen for the night. The contestants will clean up the food. Right everyone?"
We nodded and grumbled about Chris's evilness. As soon as that was done (this didn't take very long), the teams walked out together.
All DJ could do was look scared, Duncan kept flicking his knife in and out of its holder, Harold frowned while walking back to the trailers, Heather glared out into the night, and I just watched silently.
Chris's POV
"All right Grips!" I was waiting for them, sitting on a stool ready to tell my fake ghost story for the last part of the challenge. "Gather 'round here!"
They grumbled and rolled their eyes as Justin, Beth, and Lindsay took seats in a circle. Owen and Izzy were taking their sweet time. Damn it, they couldn't be wasting time!
"This isn't such a bad place to spend the night. It's full of good memories…of food."
"Ho-ho! More than memories! I just found half a piece of cheesecake under here!" She held the piece in her hand as she rose from under the wood table. How did she do that? It was on the dirty ground!
"I think I love you!" Really? Really?
"Guys! Mind joining us here?" I started to tell the fake story in a hushed storyteller's voice. "I'm about to tell you why this film lot was abandoned and closed."
"Because it's a death trap?" Justin asked, clearly angry with me. Actually, the studio just went bankrupt. The producers and I made it a death trap—a damn good one at that.
"Hush my child. This film lot is perfectly safe—on this plane. But in the other dimension…" I held up the flashlight under my chin, which was Blaire's cue to flick off the lights. At the same time that happened, I flashed the light on. Owen, to my subdued delight, gasped.
"Ronnie the Rent-a-Cop, a dedicated security guard, who worked here for 25 loyal years, until her mysterious death, right here, ON THIS VERY SPOT!" I yelled loud enough to not damage my vocal cords, but still scare the shit out of the Grips. Their faces were utterly worth my sleep deprivation. "Now, her desperate and uneasy spirit walks the lot. No one," I shone the flashlight on the wall, and the shadowy tree branches my camera crew was holding came into being, scaring the Grips even more. "Has ever managed to spend a whole night in this Craft Services Tent!" Again, not true. This tent wasn't even here when we rented the film lot for the show!
"Because they were killed by falling sets?" Justin asked once again. He has got to stop messing up my storytelling groove!
"Because…of the HAUNTING!" I yelled right in Justin's face and in my most ghastly voice, and at that point, Blaire flicked the lights on again, and I turned off my flashlight. I had to face the camera, not the Grips, for I was still being filmed for the show itself. "Your task—spend the whole night here without leaving this tent! If you manage to do so, your team gets invincibility and nobody goes home!" I walked to the table with fake machines and an Ouija board on it. "Track any psychic phenomenon using these ghost meters. And just in case—!" Just for kicks, I held out my flashlight to Beth, and pulled out a miniature keychain flashlight for her instead.
"Gee…" She turned on the miniature flashlight, shining only a paltry light compared to mine. "Thanks." She added sarcastically.
"So sleep tight Grips! And don't let the poltergeists bite!" I chuckled as I walked out of the tent to the trailers. Their task was much harder, but then again, most people have to work hard to maintain their position. Nothing comes free—a little work must be done.
None of the Gaffers were outside. Crap. I walked to each of the trailers and banged on the door, then returned to my original spot by the wood table and benches and waited for the victims to pour out. They were all waiting by the fire and two logs, frowning, clearly thinking they had won the challenge. Boy, were they in for a surprise!
I left the wood table and walked to them with the biggest grin on my face, which pissed them off even more.
"What do you want?" Duncan asked bitterly.
"I thought we had won the challenge." Heather added snidely.
"Listen: this is the final part of your challenge. If you win this, you get invincibility and none of you go home."
"I'm sure that will be a disappointment to SOME of us." Heather focused her glare on Julie.
"It's definitely a disappointment to all of us because we can't vote SOME people off now." Julie retorted. Heather looked ready to tear Julie's eyes out, and I had to interrupt before their chance was lost forever.
"All right, all right! Listen to ME now! For the sake of appearances, you all have to be standing here, and I'll be walking in from over there." I pointed out into the dark. I actually didn't have to do it, but it was their punishment for interrupting me all of the time! They all had to pay!
"Why?" Julie asked almost instantaneously.
"It doesn't matter! I'm making the rules here!" Before any Gaffer could respond, I ran into the dark. I took in a few deep breaths to calm myself from the sprint, and coolly walked to the still frowning Gaffers.
"The Killer Grips are sitting in the Craft Services tent like sitting ducks." Yikes, a little repetitive, but the show must go on! I was given a little more confidence by the smile that made its way onto all of the Gaffers' faces. "Your task is to make like special effects gurus and frighten the pants off them! Or at least scare them enough to get them out of the tent before dawn."
"How are we supposed to scare them?" Heather asked me. Oh, Heather. She should be smart enough to know!
"It's your call. But you get them out, your team wins invincibility and nobody goes home! Oh, just so you know, I told them some cockamamie about a security guard who died on set." I gave a chuckle before walking off. However, I could still hear them from afar.
"How are we going to pull this off?" I heard DJ ask. Heh, I don't know! They just have to do it before morning! And I know exactly what I'm going to do…
Chase's POV
"Chasie!" I heard Chris's grating voice fall upon my ears as I was watching the Gaffers come up with a plan to scare the Grips. Again, they had scorned Harold's ideas. I wouldn't blame him; puncturing Duncan's soccer ball to create a lame ghost? No way would that scare them.
"Yes, Chrissy?" I sarcastically retorted as I turned to face him.
"Go and fetch Courtney. I'm going to make her watch this with us!"
"That's not such a good idea. You know, there's this whole lawsuit business that I really am not in the mood to get caught up in right—"
"You're still working for me dude. In court, you may be somewhat against me, but in here, I'm still your boss, and she's still under our control. Until she wins—which she WON'T—I can still have her do what I want."
It seemed like Chris made some sort of mistake. Why did he keep contradicting himself? "Chris, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot dude."
"Are you PLANNING on letting Courtney win the lawsuit?"
"No way! It's a lot of money the producers could be losing! They'd fire me if I lost this!" He gave his usual wicked grin. "Now, be a good intern and fetch Courtney for me."
I gave a noncommittal shrug and grumble as I left to Courtney's cabin. It was a short walk, but in that time, I could think of a lot of things.
That was it. He was lying. He was actually planning on letting Courtney win. It wouldn't matter really; the proof was hard to combat. But this had all been a ratings ploy, from the very, very start of the game. The producers were probably completely ready to defray the costs, ready to give Chris a big bonus, and wouldn't mind their dignity being up in flames for a short while. Courtney and Duncan would be reunited; ratings would shoot sky-high, and the money loss could quickly be turned into a profit. The only question I was genuinely left with was "why Courtney?" Why was she his target? I wanted to dismiss it as another business tactic, for it could easily be justified as one, but there had to be something more, something that would make Chris so dedicated that he'd torture her on a daily basis.
I knocked on Courtney's door, only to hear a groan. "Chris, Chase, whoever you are, I don't need this now! Go away!"
"Courtney, Chris wants you."
The lock clicked and the door was flung open to show a perturbed Courtney. Inside, I could see her bed littered with manila folders and crisp white papers with black text on them. "Whatever he wants, I'm sure it can wait until morning. Can you tell him that?"
"He wants you to watch the rest of the challenge with us." I gave a sigh as she rolled her eyes.
"I don't want to waste time watching contestants scream their heads off like earlier today."
"The Gaffers are trying to scare the Grips this time. Personally, I want you there. He's not exactly the best guy to have around in a room." That was a lie. He was okay, and I could stand him. Courtney was the one I couldn't stand to be in a room with alone. She complained too much.
"I thought you two were good friends. You don't need me there."
"Yes, I do. Come on, Court, for me?"
She paused, and for a second, I thought my plea had worked. "No. Tell Chris that I don't have to follow his rules for the duration of my stay here." And she slammed the door in my face.
Rolling my eyes, I turned for the surveillance tent. I was graced with the sight of him laughing his head off. "Dude! Chase! These Gaffers haven't won yet! Lindsay's proved to be an obstacle after all!"
I looked at the small screen to see remnants of red stuff resembling blood on the wall. I realized quickly that the Gaffers made it look as though the walls were bleeding. "That didn't work?"
"Nope!" Chris gave an even heartier laugh. "Oh, this is better than cable!" I could only assume that he had forgotten all about the little quest he had sent me on. Either that or he was just being his sadistic self—again.
My POV
"Anyone else have any brilliant ideas? Anyone who's not DUNCAN?" Heather shot back. I couldn't blame her this time; she was covered in a ketchup and corn syrup mix after our first attempt to scare the Grips. It hadn't worked due to Lindsay's sudden emergence of leadership. I had stopped Harold from using Duncan's soccer ball as a Phantasm Ball, but I was seriously considering going back to that idea. Maybe something so simple could work!
"DJ hasn't said anything, and anybody THAT quiet's gotta be thinkin' something." Leshawna added, and I glanced at a very nervous DJ. Leshawna had an inkling as to his dastardly deeds, but I wasn't about to give anything away. My methods would be thrown into even more question than now; the team almost didn't believe me when I said not to use Harold's idea! If I didn't have the rest of the team to back me up, we would have gone through with the plan.
"I don't like scaring people. Mama says it's not gentlemanly, and—" DJ weakly explained.
"Well Mama ain't here, is she?" Leshawna folded her arms, and Duncan got a deathly look in his eyes.
"And Papa Duncan wants to win and go to bed! So…?"
DJ looked down in shame for about five minutes, and Duncan stopped his deathly glare. I was suspecting DJ was finally having a psychotic break, and was ready to stand up for him. Suddenly, DJ looked up, a steeled look in his eyes. "I have an idea. Harold, get some rope. Julie, Heather, we need a police officer's uniform, four walkie-talkies, and a megaphone. Duncan, Leshawna, stay here with me."
"Why are we following your orders?" Heather sharply asked.
"I think we should just follow them. He's got something." I defended him and pulled Heather through the back door before she could fire some sort of retort. "The confessional has a few costumes in it. I remember a police officer uniform too."
"Then what are we waiting for? You go get my uniform and I'll get a towel to clean myself."
"Why do that? It actually looks as though you were killed." She glared at me. "What? I'm serious. We want the Grips scared, don't we?"
"And I want my skin clean! So you go get my uniform, and I'll clean myself!" I rolled my eyes before Heather and I parted ways.
"Meet me in the confessional!" I yelled in the dark. The run to the confessional wasn't all that long. I could feel the all too warm air slap my face. Curse summer nights. Why couldn't this competition be held in the winter? I reached the confessional panting as I knocked on the cool metal.
"Hey Julie!" Tawny gave a broad grin.
"Julie?" Blaire shoved Tawny to the side and gave me a look. "What are you doing here?"
"We're doing our final challenge to scare the Grips, and we need walkie-talkies, a police officer uniform costume, and a megaphone."
Tawny quickly shoved four walkie-talkies into my hands. "Walkie-talkies…and I'm sure we have a megaphone here somewhere…"
"I'll get you the uniform. Who's it for?"
"Heather. I kinda told her to come here, so—sorry."
"We'll act like we don't know you, don't worry." For a second, I thought all of our bad blood was gone. Those rainy days made me realize how valuable Blaire and Tawny were. To lose them would be devastating to my well being and my position in the game. But I still had to be on my guard. The friendship might only be temporary.
It didn't take long for Blaire to find a costume. "This looks like it's in Heather's size."
"FOUND IT!" Tawny's voice reverberated in the trailer. She had alerted us using a red megaphone she had found. "I got the megaphone for you!" She kept yelling through it.
"You know what?" I looked around the trailer. "Heather might not have heard me. I'll just take all of this stuff to her." I had the megaphone in one hand, the four walkie-talkies gripped in a bundle in my other hand, and the costume—hat included—slung over my shoulder.
Before I left, I felt it appropriate to officially say I was sorry to both of them. "I really am sorry, to both of you."
"You're forgiven!" Tawny gave a big grin and a thumbs up in my direction.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow, not now when there's a challenge to complete." Blaire smiled though, and I had a feeling she forgave me too.
"All right. Thanks!" I barely managed to open the door to find a perturbed Heather waiting for me.
"I'm here, where is my costume?"
"On my shoulder. Can you grab it? My hands are full."
Surprisingly, she followed my request. "I'll be in the trailer changing. Don't ditch me."
"No, I won't." She didn't seem to trust me with that glare she gave, and promptly slammed the door in response.
Heather's POV
"Can I have some privacy please?" I politely asked the two girls in the trailer. They were both not very nice, not with the things they did in this trailer to annoy me.
"Not with that tone." The brown haired girl, usually peppy, deadpanned.
"Change behind the costume rack. We won't try to sneak a peek or something." I had no real choice but to change behind the costume rack. Time was running out for us to complete the challenge, and I wanted to go to bed.
The costume was very itchy as I put it on. Was it dusted with itching powder or something? I quickly forced myself to forget the itchiness as I put on the police cap, which irritated my patchy scalp as well. I gathered up my other clothes and without even a goodbye to those two evil girls, I slammed the door after me as I met Julie, who was still waiting for me. I didn't expect her to, but I guess anything's possible.
"Right, let's go." We both sprinted back to the back of the Craft Services tent to meet up with the rest of the Gaffers. And of course, what were they doing when I came back? Staring at my itchy costume!
"Don't get any ideas vandal." I glared pointedly at Duncan, who had an insult coming, I knew it.
"Here are the walkie talkies and megaphone." Julie spread them out on the kitchen island—or poor excuse for one.
"Thanks you two!" DJ smiled briefly before reciting his plan to us. "Now, all of us are going to get in our positions. Leshawna will stand by one of the open windows out front with the megaphone and Duncan will stand by the light switch outside of the tent. When I give the cue, Duncan will turn off the lights. Harold, Heather that will be your chance to scare them even more. First though, another cue will tell Leshawna to start making ghost-like noises. The rope Harold got from the trailer will be tied around Heather's waist—uh, do it now."
Harold obediently tied the rope around my waist. I didn't want to argue, as much as I hated the nerd, because we had a challenge to complete. If DJ's plan worked, then I could finally get some sleep!
"Done!" Harold gave a thumbs-up.
"So when the lights are out, you'll quickly climb up one of the wood pillars in the room and wait in the rafters for my cue. Harold, when you get that cue, Heather will drop down and you will start swaying her around. Julie, you will sneak under the table the Grips are sitting at and start banging on any hard surface you can touch. They'll be too scared to figure out where it's coming from, and it'll send them into a bigger panic. Finally, I'll throw a fork at the ghost detector Lindsay's holding, hitting it so the alarm will go off and she'll have to leave the tent." This plan could actually work! I had to give DJ props, but not out loud. That's tacky and dumb.
"Can we get code-names? I want to be…MAGIC HAROLD!" The nerd put a hand on my shoulder. "And this is my charming assistant."
I shoved his hand off my shoulder. "You can be the Magic Dweeb on your own time."
"I'd prefer to keep my name." Julie added.
"Magic Harold and his charming assistant," DJ pointed to me and Harold. I scoffed, but followed his orders. That bed was on my mind now…besides the scaring. "Eclipse," He pointed to the vandal. "Foxy Lady," He pointed to Leshawna, but was she anything but! She was just a big butt! "Creeper." He pointed to Julie last. She merely shrugged. If she didn't like the name, which I didn't, she didn't show it. "Now, let's get ready everyone! Leshawna, Duncan, outside in the places I told you to be."
I stood by the curtained opening along with Julie, Harold, and DJ. He took one look through the curtain, and I saw that the two sheep were playing Go Fish! The utter nerve!
"Got any two's?" The dumb blonde asked the farm girl. DJ gave the cue for Duncan to turn out the lights, and soon, the whole tent was drenched in darkness.
Beth, needless to say, was scared of the dark. "Um, can I give you my two's later?" As Julie vanished under the Gaffers' table and began knocking the wood (it sounded really scary too), Harold and I ran to one of the wooden posts and he pulled me up the wooden post. The one thing I could thank her for was that she disguised our ascension up.
It was a good thing those etiquette classes that I took as a kid helped; I could balance perfectly on the rafter. I glanced back at Harold, and he was nodding to the walkie-talkie, taking a glance every so often down below at the other team. Lindsay didn't look distracted at all, while the other losers had bunched up and were holding one another, scared of our pranks.
"Remember everyone, this is just Chris trying to scare us and Lindsay's team doesn't give up!"
"Lindsay's team?" Izzy drawled, an angry side of her I had never seen or heard before.
Leshawna's ghastly noises (when she could've used her own voice!) were my cue to drop down. The police cap was over my eyes, and I did my best interpretation of a zombie/ghost that I had seen in the scary B-movies my brother loved to watch at home. Faintly, I heard Harold use his "code name" and mine as well. For that, I'd get him for after the prank was over. But I just let myself be swung back and forth on the rope while I scared the other team. If only I could see their faces when they said what they said next!
"It's a poltergeist!" Owen exclaimed.
"Run-tergeist!" Izzy added, and a flurry of footsteps followed. I was so sure we'd scare them, but Lindsey's smarts came to their aid.
"Wait! The ghost meter's still not going off!" But they were already gone out of the tent.
That was DJ's cue to throw the fork. Although I didn't see him throw it, I knew it hit its mark because a rapid beeping went off, and a girlish shriek filled the air as the final footsteps retreated.
"And that's how WE win it!" I heard Leshawna from outside.
For once, I was pretty glad. I lifted the cap up, and I punched my fists in the air. Finally, we'd get some sleep! But DJ, the whole orchestrator of our plan, looked dejected. How was that possible? We had just won! So I took a little pity on the guy; he deserved it for getting us to win.
"DJ? Are you okay?" He looked up, and gasped as though he were seeing something else. "DJ?" I asked again, but he seemed…gone. But as my other team members came to his side (Harold dropped down from the rafter with a steady thud), he snapped out of it, despite his still morose look.
"Hello? Is anyone going to help me down from here?" I gave a condescending look to Harold. "You were supposed to help me down, you dweeb!"
"I knew I was forgetting something!" He commented, and before I could give so much as a huff, he untied me, and I landed with a thud on my butt.
"Someone could have caught me!" I looked up to my supposed teammates, but I noticed DJ wasn't there. "Hey, where's DJ?"
"He left." Duncan stated.
"I got that much, vandal." I pushed myself up off of the ground. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to be changing out of this itchy costume."
"ATTENTION GRIPS! LOOKS LIKE YOU LOST THE CHALLENGE! DAMN SHAME!" Chris took a moment to chuckle over the megaphones. "REPORT TO THE AMPHITHEATER IN ONE HOUR TO VOTE WHO WILL BE BOOTED OFF NEXT ON TOTAL…DRAMA…ACTION! GAFFERS, ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT! YOU'RE GONNA NEED ALL THE REST YOU CAN GET FOR THE NEXT CHALLENGE!" He chuckled—again, and the megaphone clicked off. What that was about, I didn't know. He's like that all the time, I learned from TDI.
"Whatever." I kept my aloof distance as I walked away from the Craft Services tent with my head held high. After I changed out of my costume, I was going to find DJ.
DJ's POV
I couldn't be there, not after seeing my mother again. She admonished me for being a cheater! That did it for me!
After I saw her, I excused myself from the tent, and then broke out into a mad sprint for the trailers. Tears were forming in the back of my eyes, but I knew what I had to do. I had decided it after seeing my mother in the first vision.
I was going to vote myself off of TDA.
I didn't care if I wasn't allowed to do it, I didn't care about how angry my teammates would be, I actually didn't care about losing out on that million dollars; for once, I cared about my mother, myself, and my wellbeing. I wasn't doing somebody else's work; I was making my own decisions this time around, not letting Chef or anyone else boss me around. I felt so proud of myself as I packed up my things in the trailer.
But what would my teammates think? Especially the girls. They'd boss me around like nobody's business, trick me into staying. However, I hid my packed suitcase under the dark underbelly of my bunk bed and went outside for a last walk around my home for a few weeks now.
Heather's POV
"Come back soon Buddha!" The perky girl from the trailer called after me, giggling in delight at my misfortunate head. "We need all the luck we can get!"
"SHUT UP!" I turned around and yelled back, and the trailer door closed in response. I could still hear her guffawing though.
No, time to focus. DJ was looking upset, and I had to figure out what was wrong with him. It was the least I could do for a fellow competitor.—Huh? Since when did I become so nice? I'm not nice! I'm Heather! I get what I want! Why should I care if Mr. Nice is having problems? But the feeling was overtaking me fast, and my nail in the coffin was when I spotted DJ walking around, still looking like a lost puppy.
"DJ?" He kept walking. "DJ!" He saw me and stood absolutely still, just the way I like my teammates to follow my orders.
"Heather!" A nervous chuckle. "Uh…hi?" And then I realized; what the hell was I doing? I never started a conversation unless I needed something from someone, whether it's to ask my brother to stop his pranks on me or ask my parents for a spring wardrobe from the New York Fashion Show. I couldn't speak because I had no clue where in the world to actually go from there. "What are you doing out here?"
"I would ask you the same question." I found my voice again, to my surprise. He looked away from me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing! I'm just…walking around. Looking at the set when we're not competing. It's actually a pretty nice place." He gave a crooked smile, as though he was…going to miss everything?
"Really?" That stopped my meanness before it could even start. "I've only seen it as a death-trap for Chris to kill us in."
"I don't think he means to kill us. It's just his nature to act that way. And there's money on the line for him. He has a living to make."
"Which just so happens to be putting us in danger for every single challenge! I'm not going to miss this show. They gave me a shaved head!" He gave me an apologetic look that said, "It'll grow back." But then his face changed into one of emotional pain.
"Heather, I know this may not be the best question to ask you, but you're the only one around. Do you ever feel guilty about anything you do on this show?"
What sort of question was that? "Of course not. It's all to win that money, money that could go to buying more clothes, or a new car, or even pay my way through a private university!"
"Oh. Okay."
I rolled my eyes at his moping. "I'm not the best person to ask. You should ask someone like Julie, who'll probably donate it all to a charity or something. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Not about the money." And he started to trudge away.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He plopped down on a patch of grass. As soon as he did that, my legs picked up and started to run to his side. "If that's not what you wanted to hear, what was?" I carefully sat down on the grass next to him. Now he was looking up at the sky, and since we weren't near the city, there were a lot more stars to be seen. "DJ!"
"Why do you care?" His eyes, his tone, his entire face…was he actually angry at me? "I don't remember the last time you cared about anyone."
"I do care about people!"
"If their needs are important to you in the long run."
That shut me up. As I started to think over every single relationship I had with my friends and family, I realized he was right. The rules I made back at school were to protect my clique from all of the others and make them happy, and my family…I acted fake-nice to get what I wanted, but it wasn't working so well, not after I saw my video letter from home. I can still remember the sick feeling I got when I saw my bed and picture being carried out on camera. It made me shiver visibly. But there was another thing, a very important thing I was forgetting. Before I even knew what it was, it tumbled out of me, "Like on a date?"
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah. But you probably don't have a lot of dates considering your personality."
"I do! But…" I couldn't think of how to complete my sentence for what seemed like an eternity. "something's always wrong and I break up with them within a few weeks." I lay back on the dirty grass, for once not caring about whether or not it would dirty my clothes. It's not like anyone would care and I could always say that the girls in the trailer weren't very nice to me. "There's nothing wrong with you, is there?"
"Nah, nothing. I've just been a little confused about the competition. I need the money for Mama, but I don't want to do anything bad."
"There's something my dad used to say to me when I was little. 'Never forget who you are no matter what you do.' It's helped me make a few decisions about where to go in life. Just go with what you think is right, not necessarily what everyone else around you says is right."
"Heather giving advice." He chuckled. "That's new."
"I've never talked about myself to anyone on the show this much." My lips curved into a smile. "It's weird."
"It's called being nice. I judged you more quickly than I thought, Heather. Maybe you've got a heart after all."
I didn't say anything. The warmth inside me was enough to leave me staring up at the stars. Maybe I could be nice if I opened up more. Maybe people wouldn't see my weaknesses so quickly—except for Julie. I'd have to watch what I say around her. But the girls could be really good friends.
Chase's POV
"Oh my God. Why the hell do you have to wear that tux every elimination ceremony?" Chris was in that damn sky blue tuxedo that was probably given to him from the '70s.
"It's called a par-o-dy, Chasie-Chase. I just so happen to like imitating the way those Gemmie Awards hosts dress."
"What did I say about the damned nicknames?"
"That they're awesome! You're welcome in advance." Sometimes, I don't even know why I bother arguing with Chris. "You know you like them."
"No, I don't."
"Whatever man! I have some teens to fry! See you later Chasie-poo!" He chuckled evilly and left the tent.
Sighing and fuming, I turned back to the screens and sipped my coffee…only to almost spit it out and short circuit everything. My reaction wasn't because the coffee was too hot or too cold, but what was on the screen. With a few keystrokes, I zoomed in for one of the cameras and saw exactly what I thought I was looking at. "Oh my God…Cour-Courtney…I have to tell Courtney…" I couldn't tell Chris; Courtney was the one person on-site right now that I could trust with such deadly information. Sure, I toppled backwards trying to get out of my seat, but at least I escaped with no cuts or bruises.
I slapped the door three times before I got an enraged answer. "Chase, what the hell do you want?" I just grabbed her wrist and started dragging her to the surveillance tent. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You are so going to—" She saw the chair toppled backwards and grew apprehensive fast. "Chase…?"
"Look at the second panel in the second row." I commanded as I picked the swivel chair back up.
"Chase…I don't see anything." She huffed and crossed her arms.
"No, look closer." I picked up my coffee and took a sip.
"I don't see anything, really. And I'm looking this time."
"You've got to be—" When I looked at the panel myself, I nearly fell down with shock. "joking." What I was sure was there a second ago was now gone.
"Haha, very funny. You cost me two minutes of important legal review time, do you know that?" She spun on her heel and started to walk out.
"I swear, there was something there!" I pointed back at the screen.
"Yeah right. We're on the same side; why would you want to distract me like this?" That's when I decided that I wouldn't show her that I was right. It was her loss if she couldn't use it to her advantage. I'd find it myself and tell Tawny and Blaire. And then I'd erase it so Chris and the TDA Aftermath people would never see it; I knew full well that Chris would hurt the people in the panel if they stayed much longer. I couldn't afford to see that happen. It would hurt more than I'd care to admit.
Heather's POV
"Heather! Heather!" I shook my head as the voices woke me up. Apparently, I had fallen asleep on the grass. I immediately recognized the voices as my teammates' and shot up quickly.
"Heather! There you are!" Leshawna ran up to me. "Where have you been girl? We've been looking for you!"
"I was just on my way back to the trailer…" Crappy lie, as I saw by the looks on my teammates' faces, but it'll have to do for now. "What's going on?"
"The dweeb was looking for his glasses on the floor—" The vandal started.
"Which you knocked off my face!" The dweeb interrupted.
"Anyway, Doris was looking for his glasses when he found a suitcase under one of the beds."
"So?" I asked.
"It was DJ's. We opened it—" Which I happened to think was really disgusting. "and found it fully packed. You know what that means."
I could feel myself grow cold all over again. And then it dawned on me: DJ wasn't next to me. "You don't think…?"
"They've started already!" Julie shouted from behind me. "I saw DJ waiting! We've got to hurry if we're going to stop him!"
It couldn't be! They started to run and I vainly hoped, "Maybe he's just watching the ceremony?"
"Boy like that? I thought you were smart!" Leshawna yelled. I ignored the insult and sped up my sprint.
By the time we got to the amphitheater, he was already walking onto the stage. We calmly walked behind him as a team to make sure he wouldn't spot us.
"And the Gilded Chris goes to…"
In the middle of the long pause, DJ finally yelled out, "STOP! I'm going to do what I should've done long ago: make Mama proud! I'm voting myself off!"
Chef began a menacing walk toward DJ. It wasn't menacing just because of his walk, but his dress. His underwear…it was hard not to see it. "DJ…why don't you and I have a chat before you do anything STUPID?"
"No Chef!" I was surprised inside; never had I seen DJ do anything so…bold. It was nearly the same stance that Julie did to me back in the camping challenge. "I'm not listening to you anymore! Chef and me, we had an illegal alliance." Everyone gasped loudly. I couldn't help but put a hand to my mouth. It—it was practically impossible! He was doing something illegal after all! And then I saw Chris's face—even he didn't know about it. That ruled out any possibility of this being a ratings trick; it was real. "He's been tutoring me in tough, coaching me through the challenges…I'll miss you all!"
Owen, with his surprising fat boy speed, was up on the stage without even breaking a sweat. "Wai-wai-wai-wait-wait-wait! You've been cooking all the delicious food? The pizza? The cheesecake?" Owen knelt down and grabbed DJ's shirt and whined, "The sandwiches?"
Duncan left the group to DJ's side. "Dude, you can't leave!"
"Yeah!" Even the Grips were up on the stage now, with Justin taking the lead. "Can't we just vote Chef off instead?" That got a growl from Chef.
"Sorry, but I gotta make it right…for Mama." The sheep, hose-beast, and a few of the guys started 'aww'ing, but I didn't, and neither did Julie. While I was a little shocked by everything to even speak, Julie had some words to say.
She walked up to Chef calmly, but I knew from her stance that she wasn't calm at all. "Fuck. You." No one had the guts to say anything, not even Chef.
When she got to DJ, her reaction was strange. She tried speaking, then stopped, and remained silent for a long time. No one did anything; it was almost as though they knew something was coming. As to whether it was good or bad, not even I knew the answer. "Fuck you too. I hope for fuck's sake you're making the right decision." With that, she spun on her heel, jumped off the stage, and walked away.
The funny thing was that neither I nor anyone else bothered to stop her, not even Chris or Chef. After a long minute, Chef finally walked off the stage.
"We'll bring your suitcase for you dude." Duncan patted DJ's shoulder and walked off with Harold and Leshawna close behind. I didn't go. I just…I couldn't miss saying bye to DJ, not after everything that just happened.
"Well, I guess that wraps things up!" Chris put on a somewhat happy face. "Grips, you're safe…for now." All of them, even Owen, walked off. Finally, Christ walked up to DJ. "DJ, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You can wait here to say any goodbyes to your teammates. It's been real." He offered a fist.
"Thanks Chris!" They pounded fists and Chris left the stage to the street where the limo would be.
"DJ…"
"Hey." He smiled, but I couldn't say anything. "Don't know what to say again?"
"I know what to say! And it's not what Julie said." I paused; I was becoming too nice again, but I needed to continue. It'd be on my mind too much, and I couldn't have that for the competition. "But…"
He started fishing in his pockets for something. "Here." He handed me a neatly folded sheet of white paper. "I, uh, didn't want to leave it outside for it to get lost or for someone else to read, but…read it on your own, after I'm gone."
"DJ—"
"Please?" I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't say no. "Thank you." He jumped off the stage and ran to the road. That was my cue to leave. I stuffed the paper into my pocket; I'll definitely read it as soon as I was going to sleep.
Chris's POV
"Hey man! Have trouble with the Ice Bitch?" I chuckled to DJ.
"Nah, I sent her off. She was starting to mouth off about quitting."
"Good. Look, I may like that you leaving will boost up viewers, but you were still a cool dude. Things are going to get a hell of a lot more crazy around here."
"They're crazy enough." DJ grinned. He had to get that copyrighted before I stole it! "Have fun though!"
"I always do dude!" The limo that I arranged for Gordon to drive (not Chef; he'd tear DJ to bits, and I couldn't have that for the reunion special!) pulled up, wheezing exhaust all over.
"DJ!" Duncan, Harold, and Owen rushed to us suitcase in hand.
I opened the limo door. "Throw the suitcase in there and get out of the frame dudes! We're still rolling!" Duncan threw the suitcase in and all three guys said bye to DJ before running off. DJ waved to them (and indirectly to the camera) and got in the limo. The tires started moving, but what I wasn't expecting was Owen rushing to the back of the limo, clinging to the dingy car.
"Can you still send food?" Gordon squealed away and left Owen on his knees. "Pretty please with delicious sandwiches on top?"
I walked into the frame and patted Owen's shoulder. "Well folks, looks like Owen's gravy train just hightailed it out of town! Now that he's survived this week's fright fest," for dramatic effect, I grabbed his pudgy face and started pinching his cheeks and shaping it randomly. "will Owen be able to bear the most HORRIFIC, STOMACH-CHURNING, GUT-WRENCHING CHALLENGE EVER?"
"What is it?" Owen asked.
I pulled his sweaty face right up to mine. "CHEF'S COOKING!" To my sheer delight, Owen flailed his arms and screamed before falling backwards to the floor. I couldn't help but let out a few laughs and a final sigh. "I love this game." Not to my delight however, Owen barfed all over my shoes. "Dude! Not the shoes!" I couldn't even say the outro because I was so disgusted. Warm, disgusting barf was getting all over my newly shined leather shoes! They cost five hundred dollars! I ended up leaving Owen on the floor while I walked back to HQ to take a hot shower…no doubt I'd be in there for a half hour just getting rid of the smell on my feet!
Heather's POV
As soon as I was dressed in my pajamas and relaxed in my bed, I carefully unfolded the note that I took out of my shorts' pocket. I hid under the covers and turned on a mini-flashlight my parents gave me.
Heather,
You really surprised me tonight. I thought it was some weird trick to convince me to stay on the show, but I realized that it really wasn't and that you were actually caring for me. It's really sweet of you.
You can probably tell by now that you didn't convince me to vote myself off. Although, you did make all my doubts disappear. Don't feel bad about that; you really helped someone in need. It's probably the first nice thing you've ever done on this show, even though no one was around to see it. You know that saying, "Character is who you are when no one is watching?" Well, I guess I happened to be watching. And I wasn't kidding about what I said, in case you doubted me too: you're a really nice person; you just don't show it too often.
I guess you know why I asked you that question, huh? Now that I've thought about it, I guess you were the right person to ask. I don't think Julie would have told me the same thing.
And you're right about the date. How about it? Whenever you see me again. Maybe when you win. It doesn't even have to be a date, just a talk. You've got a lot of issues; you need someone to talk to. Seeing as you don't trust the other teammates, maybe I could help? I know that it's really awkward, me asking you through a letter, but I would've chickened out if I tried to ask in person. I promise to keep it a secret if that's what you want.
If you say no though, I understand. Too much too soon, or way too awkward, or whatever. I'm still here if you need a friend though. It seems like you don't have that many good friends back home.
-DJ
P.S. I almost forgot to add: put this letter somewhere safe where not even Julie would look for it, like in the pillow case. And if you ever forget about this letter and just feel the sheet of paper under your head, you can pull it out and read it again. That'd be interesting, wouldn't it?
I couldn't help but smile a bit at the letter. It explained everything about what happened tonight and left me feeling better about myself, just what I needed for the competition. However, I was worried about his question. I'd have to decide before the next challenge or else it'd haunt me for the rest of the game; he was almost counting on me to win. I folded the paper back up and stuffed it in the pillow case, turned off the flashlight, and went to sleep.
Bridgette: Hey everyone! Welcome back to the TDA Aftermath Stage! I'm Bridgette!
Geoff: And I'm-!
Nikki: Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! LANE! I'M GOING TO PUMMEL YOUR SKINNY BUTT!
Geoff: Chill Nikster. Anyway, I'm Geoff.
Bridgette: We're picking up where we left off last time-Lane's interview!
Lane: Hey everyone. I know I'm bound to the chair, but really, don't call for help. I'll be fine.
Geoff: We're fielding questions from your friends right here on the stage-for pure audience pleasure!
Bridgette: Geoff, that wasn't the plan-
Nikki: Yeah, I have a question! Why the hell are you focusing on Heather so much? Why did you make her so OOC? She's not nice! She's the evil Ice Queen! And what the heck was with the end? It's like your brain checked out or something! I wanted to see Heather clobbered to bits!
Lane: Uh, well, I had been thinking right before I took the break that maybe Heather wasn't as bad as people made her out to be. So I took a few "writer's liberties" for the sake of making it seem as though I hadn't missed a beat in terms of keeping to the story. Don't worry, I have this all figured out on my planning paper. It's one of the storylines I'm looking forward to most. Plus, I felt that I had been focusing on Julie way too much. We got a little bit of her side this chapter, but also DJ's side mainly because I felt that this was "his" episode. And toward the end, I put focus on Heather because of all of the stuff I saw while watching the episode. Julie was also acting a little weird too; it'll all be sorted out soon enough.
Bridgette: I'd love to see Heather be nicer after all of this!
Lane: Believe me, I would too. But change comes slowly. You saw all of her inner thoughts; she's a pretty strict girl.
Geoff: Yeah, whatever. So when can we expect another update?
Lane: You're in luck; I'm playing catch-up now, so hopefully, I'll get the next in-between chapter done by the end of the week. You wouldn't believe it; this chapter clocked in at 21 pages and I passed the 180 pages milestone! I won't be surprised if I break 200 by the time I'm done with the in-between stuff.
Bridgette: That's great Lane! Any other questions?
Nikki: Forget all of you losers! I'm going back to Gwen and Trent!
Geoff: I guess not! Time to wrap this up! Reviews are really nice and guaranteed a response!
Bridgette: Bye everyone! Tune in next week when we interview the latest loser: DJ!
Tawny *running in*: Aw, I was expecting a fight with blood all over the place...I popped popcorn and took bets and everything. Sorry if you were disappointed! I was. Uh...want some freshly popped popcorn?