This is as fiction as a fan fiction gets. I made up a character and have been thinking out the plot for some time now. His name is José, and he is a Mexican-Canadian teenager in Total Drama Island. Smart, a pro goalie in soccer, black hair, t-shirt, yada, yada, yada. This will be my first real attempt at writing a story in, like, forever. Oh well, here it goes. (Takes place in X-Treme Torture, POV Bridgette and José)

Bridgette's POV

If it wasn't DJ, it might have been Owen. That guy's still crazy for Izzy, right? But Gwen's asking him. Maybe it was José. I'm gonna ask him.

But I haven't seen him showing ANY romantic feelings towards any girl here.

Maybe he's hiding something.

Maybe he just isn't. I might as well ask.

Bridgette walked to the Mess Hall, and peeked her head inside. She looked around, until finding José, making himself a sandwich. "Hey, José!" Bridgette yelled. He stopped, and turned around. "Oh, hey Bridge. What's up?" he said, smiling.

The smile a little too big.

Oh crap! I think he likes me! But I-I don't like him! As a friend, yeah, but definitely not love him!

José's POV

What's that look in her eyes? Like she's scared or something?

"José… do you… like me?" She said, hands behind her blue hoodie. Aw man. She likes me. Damn, what should I say? I sure don't love her! I mean, she's awesome, but I can't love anyone… anymore…

"Uh… no?" José asked?

All of a sudden, José and Bridgette began laughing.

"I was worried there for a sec." She laughed, sitting down. I sat down across from her.

"Okay, seriously. Why'd you ask that?" José asked curiously.

She hesitated. "Okay, some guy on camp wrote a haiku to a girl, and Gwen and I are trying to figure that out."

José raised an eyebrow. "Well, I don't really love any girl on this island. Friends, sure. But…" José fell silent. He stared at the ground, trying to get his legs to stop quivering.

"What is it?" Bridgette asked.

José sighed. I trust her. I can tell her about it. You need to let it out. C'mon, dude.

I wonder if it's weird to talk to yourself in your mind.

"Okay, fine. But it's kind of a long story. I haven't told anyone about it, but some people back home in Toronto know." Bridgette rested her head on the table.

"Shoot."

"When I first came to Canada, I was just being taught English. I hardly knew how to say anything. Wearing a jersey that said "RODRIGUEZ" on my first day of school, a kid asked me how to pronounce that. Yeah, like Garbovchukslav is an easy name." Bridgette giggled.

"So anyway, I met a girl. Her name was Maria. Pretty smart, pretty pretty, nice, athletic, Latino, heck, we had a lot in common. We were great friends. Until… at a soccer game, I told her I kinda liked her. She told me the same, and that was like, the best day of my life.

So yeah, we took it slow. Not every single moment of the day together, but we were known as the class couple. Movies, games, we went to all sorts of things. We went as a couple for, yo no se, 4 or 5 years?"

José sighed.

"Then, her sixteenth birthday. Somehow I wound up having a soccer city finals on that day. I dedicated that game to her, and you know what? I stopped 16 goals the entire game. That's pretty hard, if you know the guys in my league. I worked especially hard for that trophy all season. But I worked harder for her. As soon as time expired, I ran up to the stands where she was and gave her the present - tickets to 5 - to her favourite concert - Nickelback. Front row. Man, I got a good kiss for that one."

José stopped, to look at Bridgette. He saw her staring into his eyes. Scratch that, past his eyes. That's the same look she always gives Geoff before their daily make-out sessions. She noticed this and looked back at José, apologetic.

"Sorry. Continue?"

He chuckled. "It's cool. So the concert was amazing. Santana, both of our favourites, came to play both of our favourite songs - Into The Night. Chad Kroeger signed her an autograph. She was so happy!" José stopped for breath, his brown eyes dropping to the ground.

"Then, as we were leaving, 3 of her friends, Maria and I, she started dancing on the sidewalk - did I mention that she dances amazingly?" Bridgette shook her head, smiling.

"As she twirled…"

Bridgette stopped smiling.

"A drunk driver rounded the corner, and smashed the car right into her head."

The female surfer gasped. Tears welled up in the Mexican's eyes, but he blinked them away. "We called 911. I tried to stop the blood, Oh God, I tried… it was too much… she died almost instantly." At this José stopped and sunk his head down into his arms.

"That's where I got my case of hemophobia… and where I lost my best friend in the world."

Bridgette immediately hugged me, saying she was so sorry for me and my loss.

"It's not your fault… it's… I don't even want to talk about the driver… but almost ever since, she was the only one who has ever understood me."

Bridgette's POV

"I understand you, José. I understand completely." Bridgette said, a tear landing on the table.

CONFESSION BOOTH His... girlfriend died when she was sixteen? I... I can't believe it.

José's POV

"Thanks, Bridge." I said, finally escaping her embrace. I walked back into the Gopher's cabin in silence, not caring who got voted off, or even if our team won or lost. Vote me off, see if I care. I'm too distraught and sad.

As I climbed into my bottom bunk, I remembered the night. The songs, the happiness, the dancing.

The accident.

She danced on into the night.