Hello there:)

Here's another story i've been working on... its my first multi chapter AU story so, we shall see how it goes...
I won't tell you the pairings, just cause i want it to be a surprise:) hehehe

I own nothing of the Total Drama Series, if i did think of the possibilities...

Anyways... please read, review and enjoy!

Prologue

The moon hung high in the ebony sky, affording the sky scraper an eerie shadow against the shining windows. Everyone had gone home, and he was alone at the very top. Papers were spread out everywhere, the boardroom's usual tidiness forgotten. He was slumped in a chair, his raven hair dishevelled from stress.

"Chris?" even with his best efforts to make his voice seem soft, Clayton Hatchet just couldn't help but sound rough. The assistant eased the door open, to see his boss slumped over countless papers, his eyes heavily lidded. There was definitely something wrong here.

"What's up?" he asked casually, as if he was asking for the weather. Chris' head lifted from his trace. Hatchet flinched, the state of his boss' face almost frightening. His eyes seemed to have sunken into their sockets, the sadistic glint in them completely gone. His lips were extremely chapped; it seemed that whatever was wrong was worse than dehydration or malnutrition. Chris moaned.

"Oh nothing much. This is exactly where I want to be on a Friday night, Chef." He grunted. Clayton sighed at the utter of his nickname. The one night Chris asks him to cook for him, and he's branded for the rest of his life! He sat down next to his boss.

"I'm sure." He replied, trying to read the papers in the moonlight. After a few seconds of squinting with no success, he gave up. "So what's really wrong?" he asked. Chris turned his head to face him again; perhaps this would emphasise what he was about to say.

"I lost the lawsuit. McLean-Mart is gonna close." He said; he looked as though the explanation was causing him some physical pain. Chris threw his head back into his waiting palms with a groan. Clayton, feeling exceedingly awkward, simply resorted to patting him on the shoulder as his boss continued to wallow in self pity.

"I mean, how could the judge just fall into their trap? It was emotional blackmail, damn it! Who in their right minds would believe some kid (who was clearly fake-crying) ramble on about my tough work hours or health code violations? I told them to stay away from the loose wires, didn't I? If one of them gets electrocuted because they can't listen it's their own problem. I told them again and again! And what do they do? Sue me! They signed those contracts fare and square! Mark my words; they'll all come crawling back." Chris sounded like had wanted to get this out for a while, and poor Clayton had been given the horrific task of being his shoulder to cry on.

His instincts were screaming for him to hit his boss over the head and speak out against his obvious disregard for the safety of his employees. But feeling his job was more important, Clayton simply cleared his throat.

"You know, just because you have no employees doesn't mean McLean-Mart has to close." He said mysteriously, his conscience hammering at his chest with no mercy. Intrigued, Chris' head slowly rose from his hands.

"What do you mean? No employees equals no sales equals no advertisement equals no more McLean Advertising which equals my living in a gutter! How can McLean-Mart possibly not close?" Chris wailed melodramatically, flailing his arms around to perhaps emphasise his point. A small grin tugged at the corners of Clayton's mouth.

"Why don't you just hire a new batch of kids?" he suggested. What Chris did next was completely unexpected. From the pit of his throat rang the most painful laugh anyone could ever have the misfortune to hear. Clayton tried not to shield his ears out of respect.

"Did you not here what I said? They. Had. To. Sue. To. Get. Out. Of. It! By tomorrow every newspaper in Canada will be talking about what a crappy manager I am, and how those poor little kids battled for freedom. Who do you think would apply for a job like that? My reputation is ruined!"

The same smile played with Clayton's lips. He continued on, as though oblivious to his boss' plight.

"Chris, Chris, Chris. Didn't you say it before? It's all in the contract."

Chris looked Clayton straight in the eyes, and much to his relief, that recognisable sinister glint within them was slowly coming back.

Hmmm... i wonder.
Did you like my name for Chef? I kinda had to make one just cause he can't exactly be called "chef" if he's chris' assistant... so i just made it a nickname.

But does it work? Clayton Hatchet?

let me know in a review!
PS. it's gonna get more interesting, i promise.