Prologue
Dull eyes stared back at Chris McLean from the mirror in front of him. He realized he was supposed to feel pleased by the fact that he was back in the makeup chair with multiple interns racing about, fulfilling his every whim and need. But it was a hollow victory to be in the dressing room. The beaming, red-headed makeup artist stood back to admire her handiwork, showering him with compliments, but they fell on deaf ears. He only stared ahead with a blank expression, worrying the blonde behind him.
"What's wrong, McLean? Mutant squirrel got your tongue?" The male's gaze shifted to glare at her. Blaineley blinked. "Alright, guys, I think that's enough. Come back and get me when my dress is ready," she dismissed the interns, who paused a moment before rushing out of the door. "Alright, spill it, Chris. What's wrong?" She came around in front of him and leaned against the makeup table, but he just looked away. "Chris. You have to get over it. It was almost two years ago now. Let it go."
"Why did you invite me here, Mildred?" Chris answered bitterly. Blaineley went along with this change in topic, although she fully intended to go back and visit the topic again later.
"Because I needed a date that would be sure to make me look good," she teased, which earned her another angry glare from the male. "Hey, I'm only half-kidding. You of all people should know how important appearances are in this business, especially with my new job and all."
"Oh, right, I had completely forgotten. What was it, another one of those reality shows that just goes to prove the masses know nothing when it comes to good entertainment? Canada Stinks, or something?"
"It's actually Canada Plays," she corrected. "And would you believe me if I told you I was thinking of your image just as much as mine?" Chris cocked an eyebrow. "You've been a wreck ever since Total Drama was cancelled, and now you're no longer even one of those celebrities that people wonder 'where are they now'? You've dropped off the face of the reality TV show earth. But if the paparazzi see you out and about with me, your face will be put back into the tabloids and your popularity will spike again."
"Oh yeah? And why would Miss Blainerific want to do something like that for a has-been like myself?" Blaineley noticed he had crossed his legs and settled back in his chair, with his spine being less rigid than it was earlier.
"Honestly?" she asked. "Or do you want the Blaineley response?"
"Honestly," he replied. She sighed in response.
"I miss you, Chris. Ever since Total Drama was dropped, the hosting world hasn't been the same. And I hate seeing you like this. I want the old Chris back. The one that belittled me and made me push myself harder, just to prove him wrong. He's the reason I am where I am now. And I'd like to return the favour." Her face burned bright from her confession and an awkward silence settled between the two of them. It was broken a few long minutes later by a quick knock at the door.
"Blaineley," the voice of the red-head called in. "Your gown is ready."
"Ah, yes, coming! Thank you," she called back. She waited until the footsteps receded before turning back to face Chris. "I'll see you later," she told him and he nodded, the dull, faraway look returning to his eyes as he stared into space. Absently she wondered if he had taken in a word that she said. But all thoughts were pushed away as she entered the hallway and re-entered the life of Canada's number one host.
"What do you mean, you've never heard of The Hunger Games?" Blaineley cried, shocked. "Have you been living under a rock?" Chris shrugged. "Alright, in that case, you better just keep quiet if anyone is asking you about it, and just let me do all the talking."
"By the way, what are you wearing?" he asked, squinting at her in the dim light of the limo.
"Do you like? It's an interpretation of Katniss' dress, based off of the book's description." She pressed her hands against the skirt, smoothing out the red, yellow, and orange fabric. Even in what little light there was, it shone, falling just below her knees. It was strapless and her blonde hair kissed the hem of the top, despite being restrained in a braid.
"Yeah, you look great," he replied, absently glancing out the window. They were just reaching the theatre. A crowd pulsated around the entrance, surrounded by a throbbing murmur and punctuated by flashes from cameras. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him and he felt a migraine coming on. He lurched forward as the car came to a stop and the chauffer opened the door. Blaineley stretched her long legs out of the limo, eagerly waving to her adoring fans. Chris followed tentatively after.
The blonde was soon swallowed up by a group of reporters, leaving Chris to stand around awkwardly behind her. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder, causing him to spin around quickly.
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were Ryan Seagu—Hey, aren't you Chris McLean?" This reporter was short, male, and rather nerdy looking. It figured this would be the type to remember him, rather than one of the tall, hot brunette women gathering around Blaineley.
"Uh, yes, I am. You recognize me?"
"'Course! Sure, you look a little older, and your hair's a little paler, but I still recognize that malicious glint in your eyes." Chris blinked, searching for a response, while the reporter turned and yelled at some of the others behind him. "Hey guys! It's Chris McLean!" Heads snapped around to stare at him.
"Chris Mclean?"
"That sadistic jerk who hosted…what was it again?"
"Oh! Total Drama! Yeah, I heard some of those kids are still in therapy!" Soon a mob had crowded around the former host, and microphones were being shoved at him from every direction. Even those who had swarmed Blaineley had made their way to be near Chris.
"How does it feel to go from being the most despised man in entertainment to being a literal nobody?"
"Were or are you seriously that twisted, or was that all a show for the cameras?"
He had seen this technique used before. Perhaps the reporters weren't even aware it was a technique, but they did use it frequently. Things are always scarier when they arrive in packs, especially when those things control your future like these reporters did. And the more pressures that were applied to him, in the form of questions, the more likely he was to slip up and say something they could use against him. But before a panicked Chris could even choke out the words "no comment", a red manicured hand reached into the crowd and latched onto the sleeve of his black tuxedo.
"Excuse us!" Blaineley's voice cried above the noise. "Chris and I must get going. I just got a text from Kelly telling us to meet her inside." While the latter was directed at Chris, the blonde glared daggers at the reporters, to let them know that just she and her date were invited to this meeting. They stepped back and dissipated, planning to pounce on him next time he was without his blonde bodyguard.
"Kelly doesn't actually want to see us, does she?" Chris asked as the made their way in to the theatre. As a rule, the reporters weren't allowed inside, so Blaineley relaxed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think they'd start asking questions like that," she replied, letting go of his tux.
"It's okay." But inside, the wheels of McLean's devious brain were already turning. The reporters had ignored him until they were reminded of the devilish things he had done, despite the fact that many had caused either physical or emotional damage to young teenagers. And, as he recalled, the show's ratings had always been highest when the drama was also at its height. But that was also what got the show cancelled. So the question remains, how to take it where it needs to be, without getting sued? Chris continued to mull it over as he shadowed Blaineley throughout the theatre, until the announcement came that the show was about to start.
The pair had been assigned seats in the dead centre of the theatre, giving them the perfect view of the shaky camera work projected onto the screen, but Chris barely paid attention. He had retreated to a dark part of his mind where nothing could disturb him. Nothing, that is, until the first on screen death.
Coming to this premier, he had known nothing about the series. Upon arriving, he vaguely thought that there were an awfully large amount of people here, for a movie based off of a book that wasn't Harry Potter. But now he was able to put the pieces together.
Chris stood quickly and shuffled his way out of the theatre, oblivious to the sounds of displeasure he received from those he pushed past. Before he was even out the door, he had the studio's number dialled and was waving down a curious taxi driving by. But before he could get to it, the reporters attacked him once again. This time, however, he was ready.
"You heard it here first, folks!" he announced to the eager crowd. "Total Drama will be up and running again in as little as six months." He grinned savagely. "And this season, we're hungrier than ever before."
