Existentialism Is Dead

1. Realism VS Pessimism

You know, there really aren't enough Noah-centric fics for my liking. Oh well, here's one more. I'm more a NoCo, but LogicalTiger got me to be a Nizzy supporter too with her wicked awesome playlist for them. I swing both ways with the guy ;) And I know, I know – I said I didn't want to post anything new until TCoL was done. But I had to put this up. I have impulse problems *sweat drop*

((I don't own Total Drama Island or anything related or associated including (but not limited to) characters, settings, and insanity.))

Oh, and THIS IS NOT AN AU!... Hehe, thought that would be good to know.

My opinions on subjects had nothing to do with being a pessimist, but rather everything to do with being a realist.

Many a slight-minded like to assume that my unenthusiastic attitudes and cynical feelings on situations stems from my negativity, and if I cared about what they thought of me to any substantial degree I'd assure them that they're wrong. (Not that I expect anything other than wrong answers from the thought-handicapped morons around me, of course.) Personally, I rely on solid information that reality provides and appropriately interpret it to determine the most likely outcome of a scenario, thus making me a realist. A pessimist would assume the worst right away – I wait for hints that sway towards a worst-possible-outcome before I give up.

I don't always keep the things I notice – the hints of turmoil ahead – to myself. There are moments when I share my insight with the people around me. Some may say it's because of my nobility that I do this, but I think it's more of an obligation. I imagine that all geniuses are occasionally required to key-in the owners of pitiful IQ's to obvious impending disasters approaching them (due to their dumb decisions) that they don't see coming. Though it's rare that I do this, it happens.

One of these rare moments where I offered 'insight' was a mistake, and I wouldn't realize it until it was too late.

I was inspired to make the aforementioned mistake while happening upon my older sister, Morgan, sitting off by herself in the far corner of her bed with her door swung wide open. She was obviously trying to gain a passer-byer's curiosity. I had lived with enough girls in my life to be able to read them better than my favorite book, and a wide open door with a loudly-sighing female sprawled on their bed meant they wanted someone to notice them, come in, and listen to them complain about their woes and misfortunes.

Obviously I could have just ignored the plea for interest and wondered down to the end of the hall to where my own room was. That would've been the right thing to do at any rate. But no, I decided to play hero and swoop down and save my sister from suffering alone. What a sweetheart I am.

"You look lively," I said, ignoring the fact that she was more withdrawn than usual – and that's saying a lot considering she's almost as quiet as I can be at times. "What made you such a ray of sunshine?"

"Shut it, Noah. I'm not in the mood," she mumbled.

I sighed. This was another Female Message, translating into, "Can't you tell how oh-so pathetic I'm acting? Bother me about why I'm this way until I tell you! GIVE ME YOUR ALL YOUR ATTENTION!" Well, more or less.

But since I really didn't want to be there all that badly in the first place, I shrugged it off. "Fine, mope alone. I bet that's a surefire way to solve all your problems."

I hadn't so much as turned around when she popped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me back into her web. Her eyes were even narrowed like a spider's set on a fly that just wouldn't seem to stick to her strings, and I suddenly regretted my decision to stop by. "Wait! I… I want to talk to someone… but you have to promise to not be a jerk about it."

Translation: "I was waiting for someone I actually liked to talk to, but since they aren't here you'll have to do for now." Gee, thanks.

Realizing a lost battle when I saw one (I was a realist, remember), I let her drag me to her bed and throw me besides her as she came over and dramatically fell onto her back, her knees bending at the mattress' edge. "I was thinking," she started then paused to check to see if I was looking at her with enough concern. I nodded for her to continue and she got the hint. "I was thinking that I'm not ready to go to my last year of high school."

I decided she had a legitimate reason for being distressed. She was shy, had mediocre grades, performed average in all the sports she did, and was a nameless member of countless clubs. Her friends marked her as someone to take up space at their lunch table so losers who used their mouths more often couldn't hassle them, not bothering to get close to her or hang out with her outside of school. The closest thing she had to intimacy with a boy was accidentally setting her crush's sweater on fire in chemistry and giving him third-degree burns… twice.

All in all, she had nothing to look back on and be proud of, considering she did no great goods or great evils all her life.

She was probably thinking about this. How could she start her senior year in three month's knowing full well that she had nothing to be remembered by? For someone who cared about people like herself, it must be hard to handle.

"I mean I never had a boyfriend, you know?" she said, confirming my one of my ideas. Trust Morgan to only focus on the fact she's single instead of seeing the much bigger picture. Don't girls realize there's more reasons to be upset other than not dating? "I'm just a nobody to guys."

"You really are," I agreed.

"You're so mean! I told you not to be a jerk!"

"I wasn't," I countered. "It's true. You even just said so yourself. And I concur. Really, why should they like you? You're nothing special. "

"Yeah, well you don't have to be so mean about it!" she huffed. "You know what? Forget I even said anything. Just get out of here." Translation: "You were supposed to feed me lies to improve my ego. However you're too honest to do such a heinous act. Because of this, I hate you. Die."

"Well." I stood up and took swift strides to my exit, but paused again at the door when another sigh reached my ears. "Stop sighing, it's annoying. And instead of sulking about how you epically fail at life, you should go out and do something that makes you a 'somebody.'"

"Like what?" Morgan asked with too much excitement. This was supposed to be the part where I told her a plan and my future happiness would depend on whether the plan worked or feel through.

Using my incredible astuteness (it's one of the few gifts associated with my level of genius), I swung the plan back on her. "It wouldn't be your romance if I told you how to go about it." She nodded, eating up my nonsense like it made more sense than it did. "How about you go out somewhere for a while? You know, like a vacation or something? Don't dimwitted jocks like the beach? Let them fill the void for a while so you can pursue more worthwhile things."

She smiled brightly at me, the intensity of her happiness pouring into her face. "You know what? You're right! I think I'll go down to the beach this weekend with a few girls I had lunch with last year. It'll be loads of fun!" If she liked me more, I think this is when she'd get up and hug me. "Thanks a lot, Noah!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." I left her presence and darted into the safety of my room, not quite sure why she'd seemed so happy at the thought of mindlessly messing around with jerks at the beach. (Regardless of the fact I suggested it, she really shouldn't have went along with it so easily. It's disturbing.)

I also wasn't sure why her 'friends from lunch' would ever agree to be seen in public with her.

Nevertheless, it wasn't something that had anything to do with me, so I didn't really care. I t wasn't until she came home did I realize just how intertwined in her scheme I was about to become.

Morgan's five-day beach trip inspired the rest of the rabid relatives packed under the roof of my home to go explore the wonders of the ocean firsthand.

Vacationing had suddenly become an obsession – a summer-time chore that needed to be done. My mother, the patient woman she is, shoved everyone in the car and sped them off to go down south (to someplace where the heat could be seen baking your skin) only an hour after Morgan left. It turns out I was the only person not invited for three reasons: the 'fame' from being on reality shows made strangers think I was approachable for better or worse, I never liked the heat to begin with, and I'd never turn down an opportunity to be home alone.

The rest of the day after everyone left I spent feeling happier than I ever have been before.

This happiness was cruelly stripped from me when Morgan arrived home the following day around dinner-time. She hadn't so much as obtained a tan-line, but she looked pleased with herself. I gripped my head in pure teenage angst – why oh why was she back so early? Didn't she have four more days to waste? Don't tell me her friends kicked her out of their group so soon!

"You must have taken a wrong turn on your way to the surf shack," I told her, then pointed to the front door. "You might want to backtrack a bit."

"What? No, I came home early." No duh. "I found some inspiration! I have the answer to all single-life problems!" she gushed, her eyes starry with her daydreams of what life will be like when she has a clingy boyfriend to take her mind off the important things in life and nag about sex to her. Lucky girl.

"What happened to the whole 'your romance' speech where I outlined that the credit should only be yours if you come up with ideas on how to go about snagging a guy for yourself?"

She shrugged. "I liked her ideas a lot more than mine!"

"'Her' who?" I wondered aloud. I got my answer as the 'her' came through my front door. She looked too familiar to be anyone but the person I assumed she was. Her vividly-colored hair was the same length and worn in her trademark style. Her outfit was still too tight and too exposing. She even exuded the same air of 'psycho' and 'energy.' It was unmistakable, it was unbelievable, it was scary. This girl…

"Hey, Morgan! Where should I put my stuff? Do you have, like, a guestroom? Or something? Or maybe just a bathroom, you know? The tubs make a really comfy bed and they're really safe, too! No risk of falling out and then you also have dibs on first shower in the morning."

… This girl was Izzy.

And I'll be damned, her attention drifted from Morgan to me. Her smile widened and she waved excitedly as if we were long lost friends. "Noah! Hey! I remember you! You still into… whatever it was you were into?"

I couldn't even speak. My mind was reeling. There was a psycho in my house. My reality was being tainted by her chaotic persona. This wasn't right!

She giggled nervously. "Ohhh-kay, so you went mute then? That's fine. I speak Mute. We can still, like, totally chill!... Yeah!"

She turned back to Morgan, who already had her finger pointing to the stairs. "My room is upstairs, fourth door on the right. I have a sleeping bag I can pull out for you then." Izzy beamed and zipped up the stairs, making Morgan laugh in amusement. She noticed my glare and turned around. "Hey, aren't you happy to see one of your old friends from that Total Drama show?"

"I'd be thrilled to 'see one of my friends from that Total Drama show'… if I had any. Where did you pick her up – the freak-show on the side of the road somewhere?"

"Well, she was at the beach when we went there. She came up to me because she noticed similar features we had and asked if I knew you, and it went from there. She's a lot of fun and really spontaneous! She agreed to spend the rest summer living with me so we could plan something for me to leave as my legacy in my senior year! Isn't she super nice?"

My mind cracked. "Live with her? For the rest of summer? That's three months with someone who's wanted by the RCMP. I want her out."

Morgan fixed a glare at me. "Oh, well soooorry. I forgot I had to run by my plans with you. Since when do you have a say in everything?" She rubbed her head. "Whatever. This has nothing to do with you anyways – you barely leave your room." She moved her hand down to her hip and huffed. "And for the record, the RCMP aren't tracking her down anymore – they gave up after she helped them carry out a secret plot to catch politicians hoarding away tax-payers money for their own selfish wants."

"Let me guess – she told you that, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

I rolled my eyes at her blatant stupidity. I think my parents dispersed all the idiot-genes to my siblings before they had me if only I could see the problem here. I decided to approach this problem from a different angle. "What about her family? Her parents? They're alright with the fact she's going to be gone for three months with complete strangers?"

"She said it was okay, so I guess they're okay with it."

Moron. Ignorant moron. Ignorant selfish moron. "Just keep her away under constant supervision and we might live to see tomorrow." As I entered my room, I called out to Morgan downstairs. "And keep it away from me."

"Keep what away?" Izzy asked as she popped out of Morgan's room. I never locked my door quicker.

I wanted this to be a one-shot, but it was way too long. See any problems? Let me know ;)

Thanks go out to: LogicalTiger (points to beginning), RamenIsRad. And anyone who read this far down haha.