To The Toph

I've forgotten the introductory line for this chapter. Sorry!

The Abysswalker: Thank you! Stick around!

Jak: Ah, I could've labeled it a Courtney X Duncan fic to attract readers, but that would be scamming wouldn't it? :D

Super Guest: Yeah it surely isn't always fun and giggles, I believe that oftentimes people want too much too quickly. And it sure is handy to have someone in the same building who you can constantly borrow stuff from (Without ever bringing it back).

Applause2014: Becoming famous is never easy isn't it?

Beginning this chapter, I'm going to try to make them longer. Why? Just because!

Yadayada, you know the drill, rated T for very minor cussing.

And that's all already! Go reading!


Chapter 3: Small Fish In A Big Pond


What should I type to mommy?

I was standing in my apartment, leaning against 1 of the cupboards while I was typing on a medium-end laptop I recently bought (I was using Max's internet connection. His password is 'Guest'. I wonder if he knows) about a month after I arrived. It has become winter but the snow stayed away. The ice did not however. I'm dressed in my Los Pollos Uniform because my shift starts in half an hour.[1]

''Dear mom. '' I repeated aloud as I tried to think of what to type after that.

''After settling in for a bit, I figured that it isn't that bad as it seemed. I furnished it nicely, it keeps me warm on these chilly winter nights and the chemist I mentioned earlier now at least experiments when I'm not at home. So it's doable now. Don't worry about my financial situation, the job at the chicken place isn't all that but at least I have some way of income. Say hi to Derrick and Sid for me. Love you, Topher.'' I recited as I typed it down, sent the email and turned the laptop off before I walked over to the mirror in my bathroom to check my head.

The past month I ate takeout food almost every day, and that leaves its mark on my appearance. My skin looked sickly pale and had a few nasty spots along with other such imperfections. I think I gained some serious weight too. But like I said, that's what you get for solely eating processed chicken ass for dinner. I apply some gel before I leave my apartment and head for a small parking lot behind the building.

Besides the laptop I also bought a second-hand car from the 4200 dollar I had left after the first rent and the computer. A small yellow Renard hatchback missing all of its rims and having a mismatched green colored car door at the driver's side. The inside smells like a mixture of cola and oil, it has trouble starting, shifts stiffly and the engine regularly gives massive backfire too. I know it isn't exactly a supercar but this is the best you can buy in this neighborhood without risking it being stolen first, (The guy I bought it from didn't look like he could even break a glass jar). Now I'm almost completely out of money, but it's a calculated risk, I work as many shifts as they let me, so I got to make some buck overtime right? [2]

I get into the car (Needing a few time to get the door to shut) and drive to the Los Pollos while I try to find a nice radio station to listen to. I've listened to Emotion 89.5 a few times and when Rodney's on (He goes by the name of Rodmance), he does his job well aside from the occasional strange metaphor. He helps out callers by giving them romantic advice, and no matter how stupid they sound, the caller seem to be grateful for it. That either means that he gives really good advices indeed, or that his callers are just flat-out desperate. He too often tells stories about his romantic encounters, but I doubt if any of the stories about his love life are real. But right now I'm not going to listen to Emotion, during the day there's some other DJ on and she's pretty annoying, she goes by the name of Abby and she sounds and behaves like she's stuck in the 80's, and this is too reflected by her taste of music. So let's put on club music for now, it keeps me awake during these long traffic jams. It's winter and it has to freeze for just an hour and Toronto's highway silt up like the veins of Los Pollos' regulars.


I'm halfway through my shift, it's about 5 PM now and the joint is slowly filling up with people who just watched a movie in the theater opposite of the Los Pollos and want these waste products for lunch (As if the salt in their popcorn wasn't enough salt for them). At least that's what was happening the last time I checked, because I'm in the back of the kitchen. I volunteered to clean some of the fryers when my shift began like I always do, because Daniel hardly ever cares to check so that means that I can surf the web on my phone practically anytime I want, but I have to take care not to get caught.

''Topher are you finally done cleaning that fryer?! The dinner crowd is pouring in!'' Daniel (My boss) abruptly called out to me, it startled me so much that my phone slipped out of my grip and fell into a bucket of water standing on the cleaning trolley. I'm afraid that it's broken now (And that sucks even more because I paid good money for it) but at least the evidence is hidden from Daniel.

''Yeah man! It's as clean as it can get!'' I responded, stepping aside to let Daniel check it.

''It hasn't been cleaned well enough!'' Daniel announced after inspecting it for a few seconds. He also said something else to me as well but I didn't hear as I was wondering how he can deal with the filthy smell coming out of that thing.

''It's not like it's going to make the chicken any healthier to eat.'' I absentmindedly replied. I don't know if that's a relevant reply, but I am right, right?

''Frying it in a dirty fryer can make customers seriously ill Topher!'' Daniel sternly pointed out. ''And if they get sick then they have a solid case against us!'' He added, taking a brush and cleaning it some more. I used this opportunity to pick up my cell phone.

''Now, how many times has that happened this past year?'' I cynically joked while I checked if it still worked, it did. Yes!

''Topher, don't screw around! Go man a cash register.'' Daniel ordered me.

''Do you think 25 times is an accurate guess? Or should it be way more?'' I continued joking.

''Topher!'' He shouted at me, still with his head in the fryer.

''Fine, fine!'' I mumbled submissively, holding my hands up in defense as I approached a register and turned it on. Almost directly a group of customers from another queue lined up in front of me.

I hate manning the register, you always have to interact with the weirdest and most annoying customers known to men. I've been working here for 2 weeks and I've managed to distinguish several types of customer, like the 'beached whale', a incredibly obese man or woman who always orders half of the menu, or the 'typical family', consisting of parents who look like they've given up on life along with their uncontrollable bratty kids they don't ever chide whenever they tear the whole place up. And then there's the group that's currently standing in front of me, the 'clique of teenagers', whose hormones make them a tad unpredictable, but they're mostly cocky, witty, smug, extremely arrogant or a combination of that. They often behave like they're above you. Sure, you don't have the social stature of a king if you work here (Unless you work in a Indian outlet of Los Pollos I heard), but still.

''Welcome to Los Pollos Hermanas, what do you clucknuts want?'' I lazily asked the smuggest one, which I presume to be their leader, followed by a small humored chuckle from me.

''Ha ha, funny. At least I'm not working in a chicken place.'' 1 of them countered, after which he snickered and turned his head to his friends, prompting them to snicker along.

''Don't say that too loud.'' I calmly replied after cynically chuckling along with them. ''Now what do you want?'' I sternly asked them.

''2 burgers, 1 box of wings, half a dozen chicken chunks and 4 cola.'' He listed.

''Take away?''

''Yeah.'' He answered. Perfect.

''Alright then.'' I muttered while I went to the kitchen to get their order. I approached Gareth, a fellow cashier who was collecting his order too. Because Gareth was into the rock scene, he had pretty long blond hair and because of that, he had to wear a hairnet. Like me, Gareth tries to become a TV host and has previous experience with hosting a show (Broadcasted from the basement of his friend's parental home). But despite that, we don't really see eye to eye. Probably because we see each other as a threat. [3]

''Hey Gareth, mind if I borrow some of your hair?'' I asked him as I searched for my order.

''Teenagers?'' He predicted, pulling his hairnet off.

''A whole bunch of them.'' I responded as I retrieved 2 burgers out of the fryer and laid them on a bun. Gareth proceeded to bang his head back and forth above the burgers, dropping a ton of hair on the patties.

''Daniel doesn't need to know.'' I said while I filled a carton with chicken wings.

''Daniel doesn't need to know indeed.'' He replied while putting on his hairnet again. We treat customers who bother us to treats like this more often as a way of revenge and saying this is meant as some sort of trust between each other. No, we don't like each other for our ambition, but we do share a hatred for annoying customers!

I put some chicken chunks in a box and put that box in a doggy and headed back to the counter, but not before I took an application form and put it in the bag.

''There you go, you little chickenclucker!'' I gleefully told the teenager, who looked into the bag and pulled the application form.

''What's this?'' He numbly asked.

''An application form.'' I answered as I intensely stared at him with a venomous smile. He stared at me a little dumbfounded before he and his group quietly left. Sometimes I'm such a comedy genius.


About an hour later, the dinner rush was slowly coming to an end. Daniel and Gareth were mopping the floor around the registers and I concluded serving a customer of the beached whale kind. I was tempted to say 'You missed the turn, the zoo is left and the straight ahead on the end of the street.' Or 'Finally fed up with zoo food?' but if I said that with Daniel around, it may cost me my job, which is too valuable to me right now, a sad truth. The customer heads for a table while I hear a ringtone, it turns out to be Daniel's phone as he picked it up.

''Los Pollos Rexdale, speaking with the manager, Daniel Alvarez.'' He introduced himself to the caller. ''I see.'' He grumbled after a few moments, nodding his head a little. ''You need a typical employee to star in a Los Pollos commercial?'' He asked. This really perked my interest. The commercials of Los Pollos are unlike the ones of Darwin's Food Safari, they have class (Most of them at least) and rely on good acting instead of cow suits. I can name dozens of TV personalities who began as commercial actors! This could be a big step up! Sadly, I'm not the only one interested, Gareth seems to be eagerly listening as well.

''I'm a typical employee, I'm ideal for that ad!'' I and Gareth said at the same moment, I slid over the counter and we both approached Daniel.

''And it's going to be shot in the Toronto TV studios?'' Daniel asked again. The Toronto studios, that's where all mayor companies get their commercials shot! This is going to be my debut on real TV! But I have to make myself look better than Gareth first.

''Gareth's a terrible worker! He dumps his hair on the food of the customers!'' I loudly pointed out to Daniel, pointing over to Gareth, who was, of course, very angry with me.

''No, he's a terrible employee! He often insults customers!'' Gareth countered, and I shot him a dirty glare. Meanwhile, Daniel kept listening to the other caller.

''So whe-'' Daniel wanted to ask before he was interrupted by us both sprinting towards the back entrance. I had to be there before Gareth! This just shows how few opportunities there are in this business and how many people there are more than eager to seize them!

''Better luck next time Topher, this break is mine!'' Gareth told me as he headed for his car on the parking lot behind the building, a light blue GCM Tracer, a vintage hatchback with a flame decal near the back fenders. [4]

''No, it's my shot at fame! You already have a show!'' I called after him as I headed for my own car standing close by. I entered it and tried to start it, but it had to be just my luck that he had trouble starting right now just as Gareth raced past me!

''Work!'' I muttered as I rapidly tried to turn the ignition on. Luckily, it finally worked before Gareth had turned around the corner. I managed to see Daniel coming out of the building before I drove away too.

The studios are at the other end of the city near the CN tower. If I stick to the highways, then I should be there in a short while! Unfortunately, It's awfully crowded in these streets and it's a little slippery from all the glaze, but I'm not going to drive any slower because of it! I have to get to the studios before Gareth!

We both arrive at a junction and Gareth managed to drive past a traffic light just before it flashed red. Of course I had to stop, but I'm in a serious hurry! I go through a red light while another lane crosses the junction. In a reflex I barely manage to steer away from a large truck crossing, yet still its bumper scraped my flank. It's okay though, my car's a junker anyway and I'm still in hot pursuit of Gareth. He had to take a wide turn because of a truck reversing into a building. This was my chance to get ahead! The truck moved out of the way and if I could cut the corner, I might pass Gareth. I took a sharp turn, driving more over the sidewalk than over the road while I knocked a few mailboxes and newspaper dispensers over along with a street light, which left another dent into my car, but now I was so close behind Gareth that I could almost tailgate him!

My phone is ringing so I check who is calling me. It's Daniel, he probably calls me to scold me for leaving during the busiest hours of the day. I throw the phone aside. Too bad boss, I can't be distracted right now because the split second that I checked my phone, I almost ran into a truck carrying pipes. I used the opportunity to try cutting corners again by taking a shortcut through a gas station, now I was really behind Gareth when we both finally reach the nearest access road and we quickly join the rest of the traffic on the highway.

It was even busier here than on the streets, but that's probably because it's rush hour and the subzero temperatures. I see Gareth heading for the left lane. I want to follow him but I'm cut off by some punk in a sports car. I angrily honk and the guy responds by flipping me off. I grit my teeth in frustration as I can't get another opportunity to get on the left lane while I see Gareth slowly disappearing from my sight. But suddenly the traffic slows down incredibly, a traffic jam! Gareth is stuck on the left lane while I head onto the road shoulder, cheering and celebrating all the way! But right before the exit, the engine gave the biggest backfire I've ever felt from it (making me almost smash my head in the windshield) as I shifted to a lower gear.

''No, no no!'' I exclaimed in horror. I could see smoke coming out of the front grille and the hood. It couldn't accelerate any higher beyond 12 kilometers. I could see Gareth's car slowly passing me before I took the exit, parked my car at the side of the street and let my head fall onto the steering wheel. Why do you have fail me right now?! I gave my last money for you! Now I'm almost broke! I began banging furiously on the steering wheel and I only stopped when my phone went off again, it was Daniel calling for the 2nd time in 10 minutes.

''Topher.'' I numbly greeted.

''Dude, what the hell?! You and Gareth leave me alone at the Los Pollos during the busiest hours of the day?'' Daniel agitatedly asked. See? I told you he'd call about that.

''I know, but we only wanted to be in that commercial to get out of the kitchen of the Los Pollos, permanently. '' I defended myself as I rubbed my face in exhaustion. I don't want to argue about this, just let me go back to the joint and we'll never talk about it again. ''But my car seriously broke down and Gareth is probably now arriving at the studios, so if you're going to call him to congratulate him with the job, tell Gareth I cursed him.'' I requested.

''If there's 1 thing I'll be calling Gareth about it's his dismissal!'' Daniel angrily pointed out. This caught my attention, if he's getting sacked despite getting to do the commercial, what will happen with me?

''If you 2 sticked around and listened more carefully before you sprinted out of the joint, then you would've heard that the commercial was going to be shot next week!'' Daniel revealed. My eyes shot wide open at that revelation.

''Wha-''

''And since you 2 wanted to get out of the kitchen anyway, I don't think that you'll mind it much if I fire you too! You didn't do a very good job anyway, dumping hair on food and insulting customers.'' Daniel pointed out.

''But-'' I stammered some times. He can't be serious!

''Are you proud of yourself? You messed up an easy job like this! Good luck with the rest of your life kid.'' Daniel interrupted me before he hung up. He's right, how could I mess up a job like this? It can't be because I left the Los Pollos right? I was just doing what everyone else would do, giving it their best to make it in this world. But instead, I'm sacked! In the back of my mind, I can hear those bratty teens laughing at me, it feels incredibly humiliating! In a flash of pure anger and frustration, I squeeze my phone so powerfully that it's crunched beyond repair, which I almost immediately regret as I now don't have a phone anymore either! I wish they made those phones stronger, like Tuhkan used to in 2002. I angrily throw the remains of my phone on the passenger seat and I start up my car, hoping that he holds together for a few more streets so that I can find a repair shop. [5]


Luckily (Though I should stop saying that), I did found a repair shop a few blocks away and a mechanic had time to look at it. We were both standing over the engine of the car. I didn't know much about car engines, but this one looked permanently out of the running.

''I'll keep it abridged. The transmission was already past its prime and is now completely busted, this car is total loss.'' The mechanic concluded as he shut the hood. ''But that's the deal with Renards, those Frenchies didn't made these cars to last. I hope you didn't pay too much for it.'' He told me while he rubbed his hands in a cloth.

''Only my last money, 4200 dollars.'' I nonchalantly replied, looking away and regretting ever spending it.

''Oh, bummer.'' The mechanic replied, not paying full attention to me (Which ticked me off) while he checked the car. ''If you leave the car here, I won't bill you. Maybe I can still get some parts out of it.'' He offered.

''Kindly, I don't want to be reminded of this scrapheap ever again.'' I agreed, angrily kicking the tire a few times.

''You want to call a cab or something?'' The mechanic suggested, pointing over to a phone in the back of his garage.

''No, I'll get home.'' I declined before I took my coat out of the car and sulked out of the garage. Even if I want to, I have to save the very last dollar I have for the speeding and reckless driving fines I'll definitely get.

I somberly walked through the streets as it began to snow, making it an even more somber atmosphere. I come across a Bean Counter. I might as well spend the last dime I can freely spend on way too overpriced coffee.


I'm sitting in the Bean Counter, drinking my frappe and having already taken a bite out of my chocolate chip cookie, I paid 12 dollars for them, I hope they're worth it. I look around and see that the place is crowded with hipsters and what looks like to be accountants. [6]

''Is that you Topher?'' A feminine voice I recognize speaks to me. I look over in the direction of the voice and almost fell of my stool when the voice turned out to belong to a familiar face from Total Drama, or 1 of 2 familiar faces as I couldn't really tell them apart. It was either Amy or Samey who was speaking to me. She hadn't changed much at all, whoever of the 2 it was, and wore a brown jacket, a white and mint green striped shirt underneath and tan pants. Judging by the smile on her face, she was glad (But a bit startled as well, probably because how I look) to see me. I couldn't care less about her.

''Hello...You?'' I greet back, purposefully acting confused in the hopes of Amy or Samey saying her name herself.

''It's me, Samey!'' She pointed out, sitting down on the stool opposite of me. Of course, Samey. I remember that Amy was the grouchy twin, and Samey was the submissive twin. I really couldn't tell them apart because I didn't care much about them.

''Oh, of course! Samey'' I responded, placing my hand on my forehead, feigning realization, perhaps a bit too obvious but I doubt that Samey will notice it.

Samey casted a lopsided grin and looked at me with narrowed eyes. ''You weren't sure if I was Amy or Samey, weren't you?'' She guessed. She did notice, and I tried to contain my surprise.

''Uh-''

''Don't worry Topher. It's not you, I've just gotten really good at analyzing people the last years.''

''How? Did you become a psychic?'' I confusedly guessed.

''No, I became a psychologist.'' She corrected me matter-of-factly. ''With my own practice!'' She added proudly.

''Okay.'' I mumbled. I have to admit, I'm really surprised that she has studied psychology. She never seemed to be capable of it as every moment I remember her she seemed so submissive, and even when she tried to stand up for herself she didn't look all that confident. But maybe she did become one because she was so submissive.

''And what have you been doing these past years?'' Samey curiously asked me, leaning slightly forward on her stool and inspected my appearance. ''Judging by your looks, you let-''

''Well, until the past month I was rotting away in a regional TV studio in the desert, close by my home...'' I cut off Samey with my explanation, sounding a little miserable. I know I don't look that good right now but I don't want to hear it from other people as well.

''Desert? Are you from the States?'' Samey confusedly interrupted me.

''No, from Osoyoos, in the Canadian desert.'' I answered. Samey shot me a bewildered/confused look that everyone gave me when I told them I'm from the Canadian desert. I hate that look, it reminds me of my cruel fate. ''Yes, Canada has a desert.'' I morosely answered her unasked question before taking a sip from my coffee.

''Sorry, I really didn't know Canada had a desert!'' Samey apologized.

''Don't worry, you're not the only one.'' I grumbled. ''Anyway, a month ago I moved to Toronto and was quickly forced to take a job at the local Los Pollos Hermanas to pay the rent of my less than stellar apartment. A job I had until...'' I paused to check my watch. ''...20 minutes ago.'' I concluded, sticking in the morose mood.

''Why'd you get fired?'' Samey asked, sounding surprised that I messed it up. Yeah, rub it in some more.

''I left abruptly during the busiest hour of the day to go to a commercial that's only shot next week.'' I mumbled, not wanting to go into further detail.

''But why would you give up your job at that channel to work here in a Los Pollos?'' Samey wondered.

''I want to be the biggest TV star Canada has ever known!'' I lively wheezed, spreading my arms out and pacing around the table, imagining myself sitting in a fancy TV studio. I swore I could hear Samey giggling again, so I quickly sat back on my stool. ''And for that I couldn't stay at that regional channel. Believe me, OCRBC's stuffy programs weren't going to get me further into my career.''

''And how's that want coming along?''

I lightly shook my head. ''Not so well at the moment. my car is totaled, I have no money left and my rent's due soon.'' I answered before I hung my head.

''I see.'' Samey replied, looking she was thinking about something. ''And you really want to be a TV star?''

''It would be really awesome. Why?'' I curiously responded. I liked where this was possibly going to.

''Someone who's under therapy at me earns his money by making commercials, maybe I can recommend him to you.'' She told me, sounding hesitant.

''What are you treating him for?'' I asked.

''I can't tell, psychologists' oath. I may have said too much already by saying that I'm treating him.'' She answered, sounding more remorseful now. A psychologists' oath? She didn't seem so solemn when she pretended to be Amy.

''You didn't give any details. For all I know, it could be any man in Canada!'' I assured Samey, trying to prevent her from getting second thoughts.

Samey again had a hesitant look before she shrugged and grabbed her phone. ''I'll give you a call after I've spoke with him. What's your number?'' She asked while she tapped on her phone.

I scratched the back of my head. ''Yeah, since 20 minutes, I don't have a phone anymore either.'' I told her slightly embarrassed, my anger gets me in awkward situations. ''I'll instead give me your mail and home address. Can I have your phone?'' I requested. She handed it to me and I left my addresses on her notepad. ''There you go.'' I said while I've handed Samey her phone back.

Samey looked at me and I looked back at her while an awkward silence persisted. I quickly but inconspicuously finished my coffee and stood up. ''I need to go. It's quite a few blocks until I get home. Don't forget to drop by, okay?'' I reminded her while I put my coat on.

''I definitely won't! It was nice having talked to you again!'' She gleefully greeted me. I wish I could really say the same about you. It's at least good to see someone else who didn't become more famous than me. In the reflection of the glass door I could see Samey curiously looking back at me, to be clearer she was looking at my butt, and seemed to be a bit disappointed. I groaned and left the Bean Counter. I know I've gotten fat, but this only adds more insult to injury!

Samey apparently still has a crush on me, that's probably why she agreed to help. When I was preparing my hair for the night back on Pahkitew Island, I heard Samey on the girl garble in her sleep about me. She wasn't the only one, I had a feeling that Ella was crushing on me too. And although it feels great to be admired by so many girls, back then I was going through a phase and had other more interesting business on my mind (Which were mostly about Chris). Luckily she never let it show that Samey crushed on me. I was pretty annoyed by the idea that Samey had a crush on me back then, but I got to admit, that crush is finally getting me somewhere!


Talk about chance encounters!

[1] A reference to the TV-series Archer.

[2] Renard (French for fox) is a jab at Renault and the car Topher describes is meant to be the car from Dude, Where Is My Car?

[3] Gareth is a close reference to Garth Algar, 1 of the main characters from the movie Wayne's World. Like Topher mentioned, Garth (Along with fellow protagonist Wayne) host a no-budget show from the basement of Wayne's parental house.

[4] The GCM (Short for General Canadian Motors, a parody of AMC) Tracer is a nod to the AMC Pacer (A favorite car of mine). The description and it being Gareth's car also references the Mirthmobile (Also from Wayne's World and also a Pacer).

[5] Tuhkan is a reference to Nokia and a pun on toucan, those tropical birds with large beaks, and tukha, a Finnish word for ash, just as Nokia is an obscure Finish word for soot.

[5] A nod at how a bean counter is actually slang for an accountant.

You've seen some very important personality traits of Topher that'll play a major role later in this story!

Yes, that Ella X Topher hint was to please you shippers a bit as well, as you can probably feel now what the main couple's going to be 'Half of my readers leave spontaneously'. But I promise it to be a very clever take on their possible relationship 'Some readers return'. Great!

Until next time and if anyone's looking for me, I'll be watching the game Feyenoord VS. NK Rijeka from Croatia!

Feyenoord regeert,

L.W.