NOTE: This story is rated for alcohol, some violence, many sexual references, some drugs, and possibly rape. I haven't decided yet. Rating maaaay go up.
This chapter is rated T for alcohol, cussing, and sexual references.
When this starts, Heather explains what's going on in her own life pretty well. Everyone's 23, and some of them have stayed in touch. Lindsay and Tyler, Geoff and Bridget, and Duncan and Gwen are, as of the beginning of the story, engaged. Courtney is dating Justin, too, and Sierra is still totally in love with Cody while he thinks of her as his best friend; that's all the relationships.
Okay this might get a tad confusing, but realize that Alejandro feels both love and hate for Heather, and she feels mostly guilt.
Our story begins in Heather's apartment, right as everything is being set in motion. Two houses, both alike in dignity...XD sorry. I've "fractured" the story, setting up each part as either Heather or Alejandro's POV.
One note; Heather won the money. That's what I'm going with here, because that's how I saw it. Even if you think Alejandro won, though, it will still make sense. Also, suspension of disbelief on everything I say. Got that? :)
Disclaimer: I own no TD charries
Heather's POV
It was over.
I had won.
So why was I still watching those final moments again and again, playing them back on every screen in my house and head until the images burned my heart? Why was I still living in my tortured teenage past? I couldn't help it...I had to. I told myself that it was the injustice of Ezekiel destroying my original money, but in reality, it was the injustice of me stealing the money from Alejandro. I knew it, too. I couldn't get it—couldn't get him—out of my head. I had done the right thing for once. I had been the good guy in the situation; Cody had told me so. But...why did I feel so bad? Cody, were you right?
Cody...he and I were friends, actually. I had kept close friendships with the surprising individuals Cody, by extension Sierra, Courtney, Lindsay, by extension Tyler, Izzy, Harold, Bridget, by extension Geoff, DJ, and strangest of all, LeShawna. I kept in touch with them, but made less of an effort to contact Alejandro (for obvious reasons) and my psycho ex-hosts than anyone else. I hadn't heard from any of the others in years, actually.
I had graduated high school, was now 23 and living in an apartment, going to college for a degree in psychology (go figure) while working as a waitress and "maid" on the side. Don't judge me; I've gone totally straight—no stealing money, no illegal behavior, no manipulating, nothing.
My parents, on the other hand, had disowned me. Apparently, they were fed up with my lying, scheming ways, and withdrew all their financial support right before I went to college. Very nice people. I can't believe I actually thought someone could love me, I think every time I remember.
Right now, I was in my apartment, watching old reruns of Total Drama World Tour. Catching all the little signs and signals between Alejandro and me.
Wishing I had caught them before.
My phone rang and I jumped, pausing the DVD as I answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey Heather!" it was Bridget. I actually smiled a little; the blonde was genuinely friendly to me now. "Courtney, LeShawna, Katie, Izzy, Lindsay, and I are having a girls' night out. Wanna tag along?"
"Have I ever not wanted to?" I replied, hoping she heard the smirk in my voice.
"Great! Meet us at the bar; eight sharp."
"Sounds like fun!" I agreed whole-heartedly. "I'll be there," I hung up the phone and hit play again, watching as the teenage me pushed Alejandro down the volcano.
Yes, I had later received a million dollars thanks to Courtney's lawyers; that was how I'd gotten to college, with my parents disowning me and all.
But had it been worth it?
Alejandro's POV
I relaxed in the house I shared with my male friends from Total Drama, smiling. They knew that I had made mistakes, but they had accepted my apologies. By "they," I mean Duncan, DJ, and a reluctant Noah. Geoff and Tyler had lived with us for some time, but both had moved out when they had gotten engaged to Bridget and Lindsay. Justin had been recently kicked out for violating the rule of paying the prearranged "rent" to the fund for paying off the house. I looked across the room from my comfortable armchair to where Duncan was sleeping on the couch. He had brought Gwen home last night, but they had fought. Long story short, she had kicked him out of his own room. For the eighth time this month. The two had been dating since Total Drama ended, but Duncan didn't seem that into her anymore.
My distraction came in the form of DJ's Choco-Streme Pancakes Galore as the smell of them wafted to my nose. I followed the aroma to the kitchen, where DJ was wearing an apron as he flipped perfectly golden pancakes onto five plates. Humming, he took the whipped cream and piled it on elegantly before adding real maple syrup in rivers to the triple-stacked pancakes. I reached for a plate, but was slapped away.
"We are waiting for everyone to wake up," he scolded. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Come and get it!" DJ shouted. A sleepy Noah stumbled down the stairs, followed by a yawning Gwen. Duncan hurried in from the couch and gave his girlfriend—I mean fiancé—a kiss on the cheek. Gwen scowled. Yes, Duncan and Gwen had recently become engaged. As we all settled down to eat, Gwen cleared her throat.
"Duncan, we need to talk," she pulled him out to the back porch. I smirked.
"Fifty says break up," I pushed the money to the center of the table.
"I'll take it," DJ said, adding his own fifty.
"I'm not joining," Noah monotonously put in. I shrugged and kept eating. Not five minutes later, Gwen and Duncan returned to the room. Gwen looked apologetic and Duncan looked furious and broken; a guy who had just gotten dumped. I smirked at DJ, and he grumbled in discontent, crossing his arms.
"Duncan..."
"You need to leave now," Duncan growled. Gwen hung her head and left, leaving Duncan to storm upstairs. A door slammed, and something broke. He must have been very upset to leave the best pancakes in the world unattended.
"Okay amigos," I said, rubbing my hands together. "We need to go out. Let's call Geoff and Tyler, and of course Duncan."
"Are you sure?" DJ asked.
"Absolutely. What could be better than a night about town with his hermanos to cheer Duncan up?"
Little did I know that my suggestion would only set other things in motion; namely a train, hurtling off a cliff.
Heather's POV
I looked at myself in the mirror. A strapless, tight-fitting, very short, low-cut red dress and matching heels. I was quite proud of myself as I walked down to my car and drive the few miles to the bar. Bridget was already there, in a green tube top and short khaki shorts.
"You hardly look like a girl," I teased.
"I have a boyfriend!" she protested. I smirked.
"Oh you are not back on that line," LeShawna's voice said. I turned to see her wearing a sky blue halter dress with slits up the legs. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"Who on what?" Lindsay, slightly less clueless, was wearing a short hot pink dress with ruffled sleeves and a deep V neckline. "Where's the bar?" she started feeling the air. Like I said; slightly less clueless.
"Ooh ooh I know!" Izzy, dressed in a sleek, shimmering purple cutout dress that had no straps and a slightly flared short skirt, jump-somersaulted over and landed in a wary, crouching position. "It's an alien conspiracy!"
"Really?" Lindsay gasped.
"No!" Courtney put her hands in her hips and rolled her onyx eyes, which matched her dress perfectly. She was dressed in the stereotype little black dress with its strapless design and short skirt, and somehow made it look just a little more conservative and sharp. I smirked at her.
"Well well, someone's playing catty," I teased, hardly noticing Katie in her pink and black striped minidress with its one ruffled strap and rouched design. Courtney blushed, trying to pull down her short skirt.
"Please. Bridget made me wear it."
"Right," I drew out the word.
"Let's go, girls," LeShawna interrupted, walking in. I smiled and followed her, my ears assaulted by loud music as soon as I walked in.
The club was incredible.
We walked over to "our table" and sat down, laughing as Izzy bit the arm of some random guy.
"Hey...you taste familiar..." she mumbled through skin.
"Ow! Get off me, you psycho!" he said, trying to shake her.
"Noah?" Bridget asked in disbelief.
"Izzy?" he asked the girl sinking her teeth into his arm. Then he looked up. "And let me guess...Bridget, LeShawna, Courtney, Heather, Lindsay, Katie."
"Wow, you're like, a genius Norm!" Lindsay exclaimed. Noah rolled his eyes.
"Some people are not going to be happy to—ow! Izzy, you drew blood!" he shook her off and retreated towards the bathroom.
"Ooh hey Noah! Wait up!" Izzy chased him. LeShawna raised an eyebrow.
"Hey it's Geoff!" Bridget spotted her fiancé. "Let's go say hi!" she led us to where he was dancing with a few other guys. Geoff's eyes widened.
"Uh, hi Bridgey-bear! Hey girls, let's just...go talk over there."
"Why? Too embarrassed to be seen as friends with a bunch of girls? You know I could call my lawyer on you!" Courtney threatened. We all rolled our eyes.
"Girl, you have got ta leave that lawyer bit alone! Those people don't want nothin' to do with you since you used them to get back on—mph!" Geoff slammed his hand over her mouth, and LeShawna scowled.
"Wait wait wait a second. I know that voice," one of the guys stared straight at Courtney and smirked. "Well if it isn't the Princess. What do you do now, sweetheart?"
"Duncan?" she gasped before masking her emotions. "I go to law school and work as an assistant at a law firm, and I have a loyal boyfriend," this was true; she was dating Justin now.
"Well good for you. I'm a bartender at a local place, heading to school for an undetermined subject."
"Well, isn't that just a wonderful little life!" Courtney snapped. I put a hand on her shoulder; uncharacteristic, but Courtney had recently confided in me. She was bipolar, and I was determined to keep the secret a secret. Only Bridget and I knew.
"Easy girl," a voice I recognized as DJ said.
"DJ! Eeeee!" squealed Katie, jumping up and down as she clapped excitedly. I looked for Lindsay, surprised she wasn't squealing, but found her making out with Tyler. Rolling my eyes, I looked back to where DJ was taking Katie to the dance floor, along with Geoff and Bridget. As I was about to suggest that Courtney and I leave, I heard a chuckle and whipped around. There he was. He was older, handsomer, more muscled (if that was possible) and mature, but I would know him anywhere.
"Hello Heather," he purred, his eyes smoldering with barely smothered hatred. I suppressed a gulp and kept a civil tongue.
"Hello, Alejandro."
Alejandro's POV
Oh she was good! Thinking she could just show up back in my life again after all these years? As if! The manipulative chica and her lying ways. I hated her now. I hated her vicious, spiteful personality; a mirror of my very own soul. I hated her silver eyes when they opened their rain of fire upon her enemies. I hated her soft, creamy skin. I hated her long hair, the color of a dark night. I hated her delicate hands and the way she used them to tuck a stray strand behind one of her faultless ears. I hated her beautiful face as it changed so easily between shock and some emotion of twisted up pain, sorrow, and elements of joy. I hated her perfect body, the way my eyes flitted down it against my will. I hated her slim, toned legs and the way they drew my attention. I hated the way that the back of my mind longed to feel her warm arms encircling my muscled chest. I hated her voice; its feathery whisper, its melodious song, its tone as smooth as honey as it fooled me into loving her.
I hated that I still felt love for such a cruel entity, a wicked goddess
"Hello, Earth to Alejandro," the very woman about whom I had just been thinking said, rolling her eyes. "I asked you a question."
"Yes?" I responded, restoring my blaze of furious hatred with a shiver of the scar on my back.
"How are you holding up?" she asked. I wondered why I couldn't hear Duncan and Courtney bickering and looked around; Duncan was at the bar and Courtney was sitting at a table, not drinking as she chatted to a very drunk Izzy and sober Noah. "She's our double D for the night," Heather explained. I understood; responsible Courtney would be the best choose for a designated driver.
"I'm holding up as well as anyone would after the surgeries, the therapy, the humiliation," I replied coldly. Heather's face twitched, and her eyes flashed shame and anger. She obviously had been expecting to have a civil conversation, but she was oh so wrong.
"Well I'm so sorry that I wanted a million dollars!" she yelled.
"You should be. You broke my heart. Tú eres un demonio, una perra," Heather's face lit up in rage.
"Tú eres una rata, una medusa sin espinas! Mientes, el diablo, y ojalá no te hubiera conocido! Ir al infierno! Vete a la mierda!" she snarled, jabbing a finger into my chest. I was stunned at her Spanish outburst. Insulted once my initial shock faded, I snarled.
"Tú eres una perra y lo sabes! Eres un cobarde, manipulador, pieza mentira, mierda poco de espuma de la charca!" I growled at her. She slapped me across the face, ending our insult war.
"Vous m'avez profondément blessé. Je ne te pardonnerai jamais pour ce soir," she whispered in French, a language I was unfamiliar with. "Adieu pour toujours, le disjoncteur de mon coeur," then she stepped back and vanished into the crowd.
Heather's POV
After leaving Alejandro, I drank. A lot. I lost track, I guess, but I was definitely intoxicated when a guy I vaguely recognized came over. I couldn't place him though...
"Hey pretty lady. Wanna dance?" he asked with a charming smile. I nodded, not even sure of what I was doing as he pulled me onto the dance floor. Dance floor? Actually, it was more like "Grind and Make Out Central" when I looked at it long enough. Then the world started to spin again and I giggled.
You don't giggle! Snap out of it, Heather! a voice in my head screamed. I smothered it by grabbing another girl's drink and downing it. The man I was with started dancing. And it was okay at first...then it got into the "borderline sexual" zone, and I had a couple more margaritas, just to get drunk enough to not care anymore. It worked. I didn't even care when smooth hands raced all up and down my body. I just laughed and returned the favor.
Who was Alejandro again?
Alejandro's POV
I clutched my glass so hard that it broke as I stared at Heather and Justin on the dance floor. I doubted she even knew who he was; she was too drunk to remember her own name, I would stake my life on it. I knew who he was though...he was Courtney's boyfriend.
And he was dancing with Heather.
Neither side of the story was pleasing to me.
"What's gotcha down?" Duncan slurred. I looked over at him and winced. He had been our designated driver because of the way he held his liquor, but he looked pretty drunk himself. Noah, although I knew was sober, didn't even have a license because he was afraid of getting into a wreck like his parents. Geoff and Tyler would be spending the night at a hotel, and I was somewhat intoxicated myself; too much so to drive safely. That left us without a ride.
"Nothing," my mind stopped long enough for me to respond to the question. My gaze wandered to where Heather had her back pressed against Justin's front. I found my eyes traveling down her slim form...
"I totally get it, man," Duncan failed to put a hand on my shoulder, missing by a couple inches. I looked to see him following my gaze.
"Get what?"
"You're jealous, upset," he was a lot more sensible when he was drunk. "You're like I get—got—when Gwen and Trent would hang out."
"I am not jealous!" I protested. Duncan chuckled.
"Right man," he stumbled off. I scowled and walked up to Heather and Justin, who were now...I don't want to describe it. I tapped Justin's shoulder and he turned to look at me.
"I'm cutting in," I said bluntly, pushing him aside and grabbing Heather's arm.
"Ow ow ow!" she whined as I pulled her over to Courtney.
"You need to drive her home. Now," I said sharply. Courtney scowled, looking away from the young man she had just been talking to. Had she seen Justin and Heather dancing?
"Rude much, Alejandro?"
"She's so drunk that she will wake up naked in a hotel room with a stranger if you don't get her out of here," I gently pushed Heather off of my shoulder as she began to lean on me. Courtney sighed, slipping the man her phone number before standing.
She definitely saw.
"Izzy, we're leaving."
"Already?" Izzy asked.
"Finally!" Noah groaned.
"You have to take me, Duncan, Noah, and DJ," I said.
"Why me?" Noah asked as Izzy slung her arm around him.
"Iz, go find Katie, DJ, and LeShawna. Tell them we're leaving...Duncan too," Courtney said. Izzy did handsprings into the crowd and Courtney led us all outside to her car; a sleek black model. "I can take four at once."
"Heather, me, Duncan, and..." I struggled to think of another person.
"Me, me! Please me!" Noah begged, looking fearfully at Izzy as she walked out with Katie, DJ, LeShawna, and Duncan.
"Alright. Let's go," Courtney sighed. Noah leaped into the backseat. I gently helped Heather into the middle back and sat next to her, leaving Duncan the passenger. Courtney's driving was smooth and easy; good, because Duncan and Heather looked like they were about to hurl. We pulled up to our house and Noah got out; Duncan was asleep by then.
"I am not carrying him," Noah said flatly.
"I volunteer to take care of Heather in the morning," I said quickly to get out of the task. Courtney rolled her eyes.
"I'll just wait for him to wake up," she said sensibly, driving to Heather's apartment. As we reached the building, Duncan awoke, opened the door, and threw up. Courtney made a face.
"He won't make it back," I said, considering the half hour drive.
"...My apartment's a couple blocks away..." Courtney admitted quietly. Duncan was too wasted to notice.
"Gracias, amiga," I leaned up to give Courtney a brief kiss on the cheek before pulling Heather out of the car and picking her up bridal style so she wouldn't fall. Courtney drove off and I carried Heather inside, setting her in a lobby chair and searching her pockets for the key to her apartment; it was number 412. I carried her into the elevator, ignoring her giggles as her head leaned against my chest. When we reached our floor, I carried her to the apartment and clumsily opened the door, carrying her inside. When I found the bedroom, I deposited her on the bed. She pulled me on top of her. I gritted my teeth in exasperation, her drunk antics grating my nerves.
"Let's have some fun," she whispered. I admit, I shivered at that.
"No Heather. You need to get some sleep," I told her, trying to push myself off of her slim, warm figure. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me back, slamming her lips onto mine.
The kiss was hungry, passionate. It was composed only of a tongue that tasted of all the liquors I knew, combined. More than that, it was lustful; devoid of any true emotion. This wasn't Heather. I pulled back and finally managed to get off of her. She pouted at me, looking all too vulnerable. I shook my head.
"Heather, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing. You need sleep," I insisted, ignoring the tingling racing across my body.
"Can I tell you a secret first?" Heather asked. Her eyes were like the eyes of a puppy; huge and soulful. I couldn't resist.
"Sure."
"Je t'aime," she whispered loudly in French before giggling and closing her eyes. I took a blanket from a closet and gently spread it over her.
"Buenas noches, mi Heather," I said softly. "Tú eres el único que siempre amará," I added as a mindless heart-statement before walking out to the couch where I fell asleep immediately.
Heather's POV
Pain.
That was all I felt when I woke up.
Pain in my head.
Pain in my stomach.
Pain in my throat.
Pain in my heart.
Pain in my memory.
Or lack thereof.
I stumbled into my bathroom, fell to my knees, bent over the toilet, and promptly threw up, trying to hold back my hair as I did so.
Another hand took my ebony locks, leaving me to grip the porcelain for balance as I retched again. A warm pressure circulated on my back with some reluctance until I was done and could turn to see none other than Alejandro. I barely remembered our fight; why he looked so mad, probably. I sighed.
"So much for adieu pour toujours," I muttered. He scowled, displeased at my use of a language he didn't know. I smirked weakly.
"I'll be getting you some Tylenol now," Alejandro said sharply, standing and walking away. I couldn't suppress a whimper; hangovers made me desperately need human companionship. I usually woke up in either the apartment shared by Bridget and Geoff or Courtney's apartment, occasionally Katie's or LeShawna's. Once in Tyler and Lindsay's mansion. Never Izzy's...whatever Izzy lived in.
"Alejandro," I whispered hoarsely, my eyes watering at the burning in my throat. I knew he couldn't hear me, but it made me feel better to say his name. It was a promise; a promise from me to me that he would be back. Sure enough, he soon returned to the bathroom with a glass of Ginger Ale and a few pills. I took them gladly with sips of the drink. Alejandro stood silently, not saying a word. I was hurt.
Hangovers made me an emotional train wreck.
"Alejandro?" I managed to croak. He raised an eyebrow, and I tried to speak again but the words wouldn't rise to my mouth. When they did, they were too soft for the long journey and died in midair. Alejandro rolled his eyes and crouched beside me.
"Yes Heather?" he asked in an impatient tone. I wanted so badly to slap him, to glare, to scold, to scream. To do something that was like me.
Instead, I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around him.
"Don't leave me," I whispered.
Like I said; emotional train wreck.
Alejandro's POV
I was bewildered by Heather's behavior. She had an angry expression, but a timid posture. A furious glare, but a warm embrace. Why? I wanted so badly to answer Heather's desperate cry for help...but instead, I found myself shoving her back. She fell hard on the tiled floor, sprawled out, dazed, a bewildered expression upon her face.
"What the fuck was that?" I snarled angrily. Heather's eyes filled with tears. Now I was the bewildered one again; what was wrong with her?
"I...I just..."
"You never 'just' anything, Heather," I snapped. A single tear ran down her face.
"I'm needy when I'm hungover, my emotions are a mess, and..."
"And what?" I growled threateningly, my eyes briefly slipping down the dress she still wore before flitting back up to her face.
"Je t'aime!" she blurted; the same secret she had admitted last night. I frowned.
"I don't speak French, Heather."
"Well I can't say it in English! Or Spanish!" she staggered to her feet and fell, cracking her head on the corner of the sink. "Ow..." she muttered as blood seeped from her head. This time, she made no move to get up as she lay in the ground once again.
"That's what you get," I shrugged coldly before walking out into the living room. It was a trap; she was manipulating me. I knew it. I wasn't falling for it again. Not a second time.
She had broken me once, and it wasn't happening now. I would not allow myself to become attached to Heather once more. But could I really leave her there to bleed...? With a sigh, I headed to the tiny kitchen, took a rag, soaked it in ice water, and returned to Heather, gently cleaning the wound. She looked at me with hurt eyes.
"Tú eres cambiando al igual que los vientos," she whispered. I sighed.
"Si," I admitted.
"Por qué?"
"Because," I replied simply. She kept looking at me with those eyes...Damn those eyes... "You're manipulating me," her expression turned sorrowful.
"Alejandro, I'm done with—"
"No. Siempre serás una perra manipulación," I told her.
That's when Heather, the powerful, strong, beautiful Heather, broke down and cried.
Copy everything in Google translate if you're desperate to know what they said. It really doesn't matter, except that adieu pour toujours means goodbye forever.
Also don't correct me on foreign grammar; I don't care. Sorry. I use Google, okay?
Review por favor! ;D
