Warnings: There's language. And Slash. And rudespeakin'. But nothing too serious. I don't even need to tell you what pairing it is.

So yeah. This is the first time I ever uploaded anything to this site. It's another one of those What Happened at the Playa des Losers? story, but this time, in FIRST PERSON! Yes, oddly enough, you never see that. I used it though 'cause half the story is just Noah bitching, which is highly appropriate. The first couple chapters should be up quickly, but then...God knows if the rest will EVER appear. And as a second warning: contains slash.

"Lindsay"

...what?

...Crap.

"You guys just voted off the only guy with any brains on this team!"

Leshawna piped up with her usual attitude.

"Yeah, well you need to learn a little thing called respect!" consequently, everyone threw their precious marshmallows at me.

"What-ever."

Whatever. Not my fault I'm awful at sports. I mean, I could've played dodgeball. Then they would have pleaded with me to stop. To be honest, it's not that bad going home. This whole "reality show" thing is really not my scene. I just wanted to be known as the schemer.

I go into the gopher cabin to collect my personal items and head to the dock of shame.

Instead of being the schemer, I'll just be known as that annoying, lazy kid that made it in twentieth place.

Go me.

Dock of Shame, here I come. I wonder how all the guys back home will react to seeing me now. Well, not like I made any "significant character development". They probably won't even realize I was on the show. Or care.

I get onto the boat, that whisks me away, off of the island I never knew existed, through a body of water I never knew existed. I wonder if I'll come off the boat to find myself on a sound stage. A really big sound stage.

About forty minutes later I'm standing on another dock. I look around. Maybe my parents or siblings are here to pick me up. They're probably too busy getting Michael ready for college and such. Once he's gone, it's just one more brother, and then me. I'm hoping my family at least took the time to watch my show...on second thought...no. That show was downright ungodly. It would be embarrassing to have my parents see that.

A woman short blond hair wearing a "secretary suit" steps onto the dock. She's holding a clipboard. She walks up to me.

"Noah Costa."

"Yeah?"

"Okay, you've been eliminated, therefore.."

Does this mean I go home?

"Therefore you spend the remaining time in the competition, until a winner is crowned, in this house, with every other contestant who's been eliminated.

Evidently not. I'm staying here for like two months.

The house isn't really a bad place. It's huge, white, and all rich looking. Certainly roomy enough for the 20 people who'll be eliminated before the finale. There's a pool. And waterfront view. Cool. As long as there's a nintendo, a library...and a sofa...I'm good. I go up to the door, suitcase in hand, and open it. There's no one in the living room at all. I think back to those eliminated before me. Neither was on my team. Eva. Ezekiel. Eva's probably lifting weights. Or drinking vodka, 'cause she's like Russian or something. God only knows what Ezekiel does for fun. It's gonna be a long three days until someone else gets here.

The small bright side to getting to this ghost town is I get an early pick of rooms. Only two have been taken, and personally, I wouldn't have wanted the butch or the hermit suite anyway. I choose a room at the end of the top floor hallway. Two beds. Like all the rest. I swear, I am letting no one in this other bed, ever. The room is a quiet blue with brown covers on the beds, wooden headboards. It's nothing particularly fancy but it will certainly do. I think I'll just go to bed. I'm downright exhausted from a day of playing dodgeball.

Yeah, right.

That was ok. Some random notes:

-I chose Costa as Noah's name. It's portuguese (:

-And they get roomates unlike in other stories about the loser house I read. I mean, the Loser House is big...but big enough for Twenty people to each have elaborate rooms? I doubt it. Why would they stay in their rooms if there was so much luxury outside at the pool, anyway?