Hi, Total Drama fandom! I know this couple is old, but I'm still in love with them. I was listening to this song and got nostalgic, for both this couple and the song. The idea came and just wouldn't go away. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Total Drama or Painting Flowers by All Time Low.

Strange maze, what is this place?
I hear voices over my shoulder,
Nothing's making sense at all.

Duncan looked around at a place all too familiar to him. A high school gym, doused in the color red, with banners streamed all around proclaiming, "Welcome Bass!"

The Killer Bass was one of the more peculiar high school mascots he had ever heard of, and normally the play on words might've been enough to make him laugh. But right now all he felt was overwhelmed.

He still didn't know why he had come here. A high school reunion wasn't the place for him.

Wonder, why do we race?
When everyday we're runnin' in circles,
Such a funny way to fall.
Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright.

Finally taking a moment to see beyond the red and the mascots, he managed to glance on some of his peers, his former classmates.

The first he noticed were Katie and Sadie, the strangely close best friends, who clearly hadn't separated yet. They giggled with each other, wearing matching black and white dresses, gushing over every guy that passed.

Next he saw one of his closest old friends, DJ standing by the punch and chatting with Tyler, who was wearing a full red suit and matching the Bass décor to a tee.

Finally he set his eyes on the couple striding toward him, high school wonder couple, Geoff and Bridgette.

Geoff patted him on the back hardily and smiled.

"Hey bud, long time, no see! How've you been? Whaddaya been up to?"

Duncan tried to compose himself and clear his voice; he needed to get out of this analytical perspective, it wasn't getting him anywhere.

"Pretty good, just a little of this, a little of that" He smirked, one of his signature gestures, "I hopped around from job to job for a while but now I'm having a pretty good time as a mechanic. The pays not the best but the cars are beauties. How about you two?"

This prompted Bridgette to start gushing about the past ten years of their life since high school, college, separation, reuniting, their wedding; he didn't bother to ask why he wasn't invited.

Politely smiling and nodding every once in a while, a skill Duncan had realized he needed since he had left this hell hole. Disrespect didn't get you anywhere in the real world. While his green-haired youth was still with him, he had matured; he'd had to. Had he not, he'd probably be in prison again and not at this reunion. Though neither option sounded amazing right now.

His attention was set on the couple in front of him until the music came on. That song. Of course, that song. And for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party, he allowed his thoughts to drift to her.

The music blasted through the speakers:

When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you, woah.

He ran his hands through his green Mohawk and pulled his pocket knife out of his back left pocket. Of course, this was damaging school property, but he really didn't care. He slowly and carefully started carving his signature skull into the tree, marking it and showing the world his work.

He was a surprisingly good artist for how much he "didn't care."

A chirpy high voice piped up behind him. "You really shouldn't do that, you know. You're going to get caught eventually."

"Ah, but what will I do without my creative outlet, Princess?"

"Find a new hobby." She replied dryly.

He smirked at her. "It's a beautiful mix of nature and art, don't you see? Carving the tree is symbolic." He clutched his heart and lowered his voice, mocking the fake deep people he seemed to see every day at this school.

She rolled her eyes. "Find a new mix of nature and art, then."

"And what should that be?"

"I don't know. Go… go paint some flowers or something."

Show my cards,
Gave you my heart,
Wish we could start all over.
Nothing's makin' sense at all.

No, no, no. She only ever ended in heartbreak and fighting and screams. But then there were other times she ended in good times and all he ever wanted.

The only way to describe being with Courtney was the roller coaster analogy, and there weren't enough bumps, twists, turns, in any roller coaster existing to be accurate.

He scanned the room for her. Nothing.

Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright.

Suddenly, the music, the words, it was too much. He said a curt "Excuse me," to Bridgette and bolted for the hallway.

He just needed to catch his breath.

Walking through the hall, he sat on a familiar bench, by a bunch of lockers; some decorated by their current inhabitants. It was a strange thought, there were still new kids here at this very school, using the lockers he had used, listening to teachers he had listened, or rather, not listened, to. He wondered if there was a new Duncan, a new troublemaker. Or maybe a new Courtney, a new type A student body president. He wondered if they were together.

When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you.

Without his good ears he might not have caught it, but he heard the faintest sniffling coming from around the corner.

Leave it alone, his mind told him.

Of course, he never could listen to direction. He found himself getting up and calling out, "Are you okay?"

A small gasp.

He rounded the corner to see a girl in a long black gown heading toward the exit.

"Wait!" He called as she was about to take off, and clasped his hand around a small, tan wrist.

I heard everything you said,
I don't wanna lose my head,
When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.

He pulled her around to face him and immediately realized why she had run.

Courtney.

She pulled her hand back forcefully and quickly wiped at the tear stain under her dark eyes.

"Courtney, I didn't think you'd-"

"Be here?" She snapped, cutting him off. Slowly, she took a breath and switched to lower, more exasperated tone. "I didn't think so either." Then she thought of a question for him. "Why are you here?"

It was a question he had asked himself. Why was he here? The memories? They weren't very good. The people? Most of them sucked. He opted not to respond.

"Did the song get to you too?" He promoted instead.

She pursed her lips and replied, "Of course not. I got some mascara in my eye, made me tear up." Ever defiant, of course.

"And went to go fix it in the hallway, not the bathroom?"

"Duncan, I don't want to do this."

He knew what he had to say to get across to her. "Then why are you here? We never liked these people, we never liked this school, the only thing we could tolerate was…" He trailed off.

"Each other." She completed.

Suddenly, in a way only Courtney would do, in a way like their first kiss, she brought his lips to hers.

Why was he here? A high school reunion wasn't the place for him.

He was here for her.

If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you.