Authors Notes: Hey guys, long time no see. Basically, depression and school have kind of walloped me back to back which is the reason for the long wait. I'm sorry again to say that this chapter is one you probably aren't all going to expect. Essentially, y'all are going to have to wait until the next chapter to see what comes of Tyler knowing Noah lied to him, if Duncan told Courtney about his kiss with Gwen, and anything related to Gwoah.

Because this will be a solo Alejandro chapter! Probably could tell by the title, huh?

Remember when I said way back in the beginning that this story won't just be a World Tour rehash? Yup, this chapter is where it definitely becomes noticeable. Today we'll catch up with how Alejandro is licking his wounds from his defeat, as well as from our favorite police duo in Sanders and MacArthur, and maybe, just maybe, we will say hello to another important character who has yet to be introduced.

Also, I highly suggest you all read the Addendum Notes if you haven't already for chapter four, which you can find on the top of chapter above the original Authors Notes. Basically, I've retooled a bit how the story is going to play out in the first act, so there will be no in between specified rest days between challenges like Chris said originally when I published the chapter. Due to this I edited Chris's dialogue in the last chapter.

Anyways, hope you have fun and I'll see you soon!

One of the rooms of an unknown hotel located in the suburban outskirts of Toronto had a total of thirty-seven panels that lined the ceiling.

This was a certainty, as Alejandro had been counting them through his scowl for the past two hours, lying on the bed as he did so. He also recalled with precision that it had been two days since MacArthur had shown him and Sanders footage of his downfall.

Seeing it all unfold in the airport terminal, he had simply sat there, dumbstruck that Noah had been at the right place at the right time to catch glimpse of Duncan and Gwen's betrayal of Courtney. And was horrified to discover that he used it to devise a scheme with the little time he had to ensure Alejandro's demise.

Any attempts Sanders had to console him were lost on Alejandro due to the boisterous laughter MacArthur belted out both on and off the plane about it. Though it wasn't her mockery that caused the Arch-Villain of Total Drama World Tour to feel like he was the same shy and scared runt of the litter in Spain all those years ago.

It was the mockery and shame he would no doubt receive when this whole show was over…

The knot in Alejandro's throat that developed ever since he was eliminated had grown so taught with worry, but after seeing the footage from MacArthur, its tightness grew to a level he wasn't sure he was capable to handle.

A sharp ringing from the nightstand echoed throughout the once silent hotel room, breaking Alejandro's thoughts and bringing him to his feet with a sudden start. Standing tall and upright also allowed him to fully grasp how small of a room he was in, and in the mere moments that separated the first ring he heard and the second he recalled once again how he was put into this situation.

After their flight from London, Sanders and MacArthur hailed a taxi from the Pearson Airport in Toronto and took him to a small hotel on the outskirts of the city. Under the impression he would be either sent home immediately or placed with the batch of already eliminated contestants from the show, he questioned why they would bring him to an obscure hotel like this one.

The answer he received from Sanders was simple but frustrating: All eliminated contestants would have to be sequestered with no outside contact until the next Aftermath show. At that time, a limo would arrive and take him to the studio where the show would be filmed. This, Sanders explained, was to ensure suspense when Alejandro was actually revealed on the Aftermath, as he would have no contact to any of the contestants beforehand, thus ensuring that any interactions he would have with them would be genuine and dramatic.

The soundness of that logic didn't curb the depressing atmosphere of it all, though. Sanders helped with Alejandro's bags and showed him what his small room offered him: a small bathroom, a television (it didn't have cable, so he wouldn't be able to watch the new episodes that aired after his elimination until he got to the Aftermath), a bed, a phone (Sanders had put a sticky note with her number on it), nightstand, and a computer (only programmed to go to specific websites, lest Alejandro try to contact any of the contestants on the show through it.) Then, after informing him that it would be about three episodes until the Aftermath would occur, and another failed attempt at cheering him up through kind words that ringed hollow, Sanders departed with MacArthur back to the airport to take a flight to wherever the show needed them to be next.

Leaving Alejandro once again as a prisoner for Chris McLean's use.

Only this time, there wasn't a million bucks at the end of it.

With a sigh, Alejandro looked to the nightstand to discover that the sound was coming from the phone, now on its fourth ring. The Spaniards' expression hardened; who was calling him? Usually he had to call room service himself for food, not the other way around. And even if for some reason this was simply calling his room to inquire what he would like for dinner, it was still much too early in the day for that.

On the fifth ring, Alejandro relented and picked up the phone, placing it against his ear, "Hello."

"Hey, how you holding up?"

Alejandro's brow furrowed; he couldn't place the voice due to the hazy static from the receiver. "Who is this?"

"Oh Al, don't think you could pretend to forget my voice."

Alejandro's eyes widened, with his mouth opening up ever so slightly. No, this-this… surely he had to be mistaken! Sanders had said the phone-

"How did you get this number?" Alejandro asked curtly.

He could hear the person from the other line let out a chuckle before answering, "What good of an older brother would I be if I couldn't keep track of where you were? Especially with you gallivanting around the world on your reality show, I need to sure you were safe and healthy. As well as…" The person on the other line let out another subtle laugh, "making sure you were keeping our family name from falling into disrepute."

Alejandro froze, and the voice continued on.

"Father had taken a considerable gamble in granting his blessing for you embark on McLean's' scheme. You said his promise to arrange for you to announce the winner of "Best Reality of Ensemble" at the Gemmi Awards would raise your public profile and status, as well as the Burromuerto name. You told him that McLean had a plan to ensnare most of the cast in a third season, with you as an integral piece of the puzzle. That you would certainly win the competition, that McLean had chosen you to fit the "Villain" archetype of his third season as he had confidence that you had enough wit to manipulate the clueless competitors and the strength to decimate them in any of the challenges he devised. This would, as you so eloquently put it to Father, make it an inevitability for you to win the competition with honor, bolstering the reputation of yourself and the family."

Alejandro slowly sank until he was sitting on the bed as the person on the other line barked out a dark laugh, "That didn't go quite according to plan!"

"I don't need a history lesson! And I don't think you wasted all that effort to somehow find this number just to mock me, José." Alejandro spat. "What is it that you want from me?"

Alejandro could practically see the smirk forming from José's lips from wherever he was calling, "You're perceptive Al. Even with failing to keep a good enough eye on that pint sized Noah and the delinquent he coerced. Perhaps you actually fell for Heather after all, clouding your judgeme-"

"Get to the point!" Alejandro pounded his fist on the nightstand.

"Yes, well, I do get lost in the weeds sometimes, don't I." José chuckled. "But back to your original question, I'm calling not to gain anything from you. I doubt you're in any position to give me anything at the moment, am I wrong?"

"Then what is it?" Alejandro glared, despite not being able to see his brothers' face.

"I'm not asking for your help. I've called to say that I can help you."

"Que?"

"I can help you get back on the show."

Alejandro dropped the phone.

For their seventh time in a row now, Sanders and MacArthur were on yet another plane for yet another escort mission. Both cadets were seated next to each other on the way back of the aircraft, near the bathrooms.

MacArthur, who was on the window seat, had her eyes' twitch when a boy a couple rows down from them started to have a temper tantrum. "McLean better give us overtime for all his crap. First he makes us fly to Greece and makes us wait by the airport for the whole day and then tells us there's been a change of plans and to fly back to the same continent we just came from!" She huffed out a gruff sigh, turning to her friend, "Sitting for so long is at least giving my glutes a good workout, eh partner?"

Instead of responding to MacArthur's quip, Sanders seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, staring at the seatbelt sign on the overhead. The larger cop softened her expression, "Sanders, you alright? Ever since we dumped off Al-e-whatshisname at the motel you've seemed distracted."

"You mean Alejandro?" Sanders glanced at her partner, a small giggle escaping her lips.

"I prefer Al-e-whatshisname." MacArthur smirked for a second before returning to seriousness, "But seriously, are you doing okay?"

"Well, mostly. I'm honestly still kind of worried about Alejandro. He seemed…" Sanders paused, "Sad? I guess?"

"Makes sense. If I had lost out on a million dollars, I'd be bummed out too." MacArthur shrugged her shoulders, "But he'll get over it. Just like the rest of the folks we already dropped off did." Her eyebrows rose, "Unless he said anything to you that seemed off?"

Sanders bit her lip, "Well, he kind of did. He wasn't talkative so much on the plane ride home, but I did manage to get him to open up on a few things."

"Huh, really?" MacArthur blinked. "We were all sitting in the same row and I never noticed."

Sanders giggled, "Probably because you had a bit too many pudding cups for dessert and were… preoccupied."

The larger cop put her hands to her stomach and grimaced, "Urgh, don't remind me. So what did Al tell you?"

The slimmer cops smile fell as she continued on, "I tried to get him to talk about family, just to put his mind towards happy memories, but that really backfired. It seemed that he kind of had a rough childhood. His mother passed away when he was really young, and his dad seemed to be really strict towards him and his brothers."

"Bummer," MacArthur whistled, "But hey, my dad forced me to smuggle fruit across the border when I was a kid, and I turned out alright." She grabbed an apple from her tray table and began to munch on it.

"The difference is that we're both adults," Sanders explained, "being eighteen and all that. I got the impression that Alejandro wanted the money so he could be more independent of his father. But now that he lost, he has to stay with his family for the foreseeable future and explain to his father and brothers that he lost. He never told me that directly, but I could definitely sense that from him. Especially on the ride to the hotel. You were driving so you didn't know, but Alejandro didn't look sad anymore. He looked scared." She sighed, "I just hope he handles it well, because it looks like he doesn't have anyone to really turn to for guidance on how to deal with it."

MacArthur bit her lip for a moment, processing Sanders' argument before replying, "Yeah, that does sound rough. I'd hate to be in going through this and be alone…" MacArthur shrugged her shoulders. "Despite everything though, I still think he'll turn out alright."

"Really?"

"For sure," MacArthur smiled, "I mean, I never watch reality shows and even I've heard of Total Drama." She closed her eyes, laying back in her seats with her hands behind her neck, "Once the shows over he'll probably get tons of commercial offers and endorsement deals. See?" MacArthur reached into her pocket and pulled out a can of beans. She tossed it to her partner, "Read the label."

Sanders caught it, at first perplexed, but then her eyes grew as she read the writing, "Momma DJ's glute enhancing bean supreme?"

"Yup!" The larger cop swiped the can back from her partner, twirling it on her finger like a basketball, "The mom of the same dude we picked up in Jamaica. She got deals from the show and she didn't even compete." MacArthur waved her hand away, "Al will make more than enough dough to get on with his life."

"That," Sanders paused, a smile forming on her face, "actually cheered me up. Thanks MacArthur."

"No problem," MacArthur smirked back, "But, uh, let's be honest, did you have a thing for him?"

The smaller cop turned pink, holding up her hands in defense, "What? No!"

MacArthur soon started an uproar of laughter, "I knew it!"

"Ugh," Sanders crossed her arms, "Just when I thought you were finally being sweet for once."

The larger cadet continued to laugh for a good thirty seconds before wiping a tear from her eye, "Sorry, sorry. I did mean what I said earlier." The slimmer cadet turned to her again with a smile on her face, "Don't worry, Al will be just fine…"

On a whole other continent, Alejandro was very much so not fine.

"How did you find this number!?" Alejandro's grip on the phone was so tight that his knuckles were as white as the ceiling panels. He was now standing up, glaring at the large mirror in the bathroom as the long cord of the phone nestled at his feet in a tangled clump. Alejandro's reflection from the mirror to his eyes seemed to morph into José's sneering face as they talked.

"Alejandro, please, just let me explain myself." A deadpanned voice rang out over the line that reminded Alejandro of Noah. His grip on the receiver tightened even further as José continued on, "I can assure you this will all make sense soon enough."

"How. Did. You. Find. This. Number." Alejandro spoke through gritted teeth. "And you call me a fool for falling for Noah's scheme yet you honestly expect me to believe that you somehow can get me back into the competition!"

"I never called you a fool... explicitly." José paused, "But you're right on one thing, Al. This gambit I devised isn't a guaranteed pass back into the competition… but it is sure as hell better than making a random chance just to have the opportunity to compete to return to the show."

"You-

"Give me five minutes of your time to explain myself and if you want to make the idiotic choice of declining my offer, feel free." Alejandro paused as José interrupted him, biting his lip. "I will not have this good fortune be ripped out from underside me!"

Despite what José was saying, Alejandro was fully prepared to launch against his brother a full-fledged tirade. His muscles tightened as he looked on into the mirror to see his brother shoving him to the ground when they were kids. Memories Alejandro long tried to suppress of José planting dirty magazines under his bed so he would get in trouble with Father.

A hurricane of the shame he felt when disappointing Father due to José's actions walloped him across the head, before Alejandro seized the reigns of the winds to turn them into his own typhoon of anger. Today would finally be the day when he would tell his devil of a brother what he thought of him!

But…

No.

Was there a crack?

"I will not have this good fortune be ripped out from underside me!"

The typhoon evaporated and Alejandro's keen intellect that he cultivated in order to finally impress Father emerged from the eye of the storm.

Alejandro knew his brother… he would never do this unless he were to gain something. And from the panic in his voice, Alejandro returning to Total Drama World Tour and possibly winning it would cause José to gain something big.

For once, José needed him.

He couldn't be lying.

"Al?"

"Y-yes, you make a good point. I suppose I should at least hear you out." Alejandro spoke warily.

There was a long pause, "I'm glad your sense of reason has returned to you…" He loosened his grip on the phone for a moment as he heard his brother take a deep breath before continuing. "I know the number of this hotel because it's the exact same room the network has rented out for the duration of the competition that all eliminated contestants stay at before the Aftermaths."

Alejandro narrowed his eyes, "How is this pertinent?"

"It's pertinent because I'm currently…" Alejandro could hear José purse his lips from on the other line, "Recently been acquainted with a female companion who works for the network. Her job is to help edit the episodes of Total Drama from the footage McLean sends over. She also managed to catch wind of where you the eliminated contestants would be staying before the Aftermaths, which is how I could find this number."

"And due to your new girlfriend editing the episodes, you know that I got eliminated before the episode even aired." Alejandro walked over from the bathroom to back where his bed was and sat down.

"She isn't my girlfriend… publically." Another pause, "The important information that you need to know is that I know through her that during the next Aftermath show there will be a challenge to return to the competition once the teams have dissolved."

"R-really?" Alejandro whispered. "I-I could actually return?"

"You have a chance for a chance to return, under normal circumstances. Cans of peanuts of the same red color would all shoot out at you, with five containing passes to the second chance challenge. But with my assistance, one of the five will be green and will be the last peanut can that will be shot out."

"So if I wait until the last can, I would guarantee myself a chance to return…" Alejandro finished for himself. A chance to return to win the million dollars. To enact his revenge against Noah. To prove to Father that he was not a failure. To see Heather again…

"From this point on, my assistance will be considerably less I'm afraid." José snapped Alejandro back from his thoughts, "The second chance challenge in earnest is a board game, where you and the four others will roll a six-sided die to advance on spaces. Some spaces will have you compete in physical challenges that you need to conquer in order to proceed, but landing on others will just result in you being automatically eliminated."

"And those you can't help me on."

"Precisely." José replied, "While I am gifted in many areas, dear brother, controlling the winds of fate are not one of them. But unless you're incredibly unlucky, I still think you have a good chance to defeat whoever the four you will face."

"If – no – when you've bested the others and advanced the board, all you have to do is answer a final trivia question and you'll be on your way to rejoin the competition in Niagara Falls. This will be my last help to you: Derschnitzle Kickers."

Alejandro blinked, "Excuse me?"

"Must I bore you with the context?" José drawled.

"No, no, that is easy enough to commit to memory, thank you." Alejandro shook his head. The younger brother let a few seconds of silence pass, staring at television set in front of him. He had the opportunity to show Father that he was worthy of the Burromeurto name…

This could be it. Nothing that José said so far indicated that this was a lie, it would be way too intricate. Having the ability to even contact him in the first place was the only evidence he needed to know that his brother's story was truthful.

But…

José admitting to Carlos that his car had been totaled yet leaving out who was in the driver's seat was telling the truth but only part of it.

And him withholding that part of the truth caused Alejandro to be blamed for José's reckless actions.

What part of the truth was José's hiding?

"She isn't my girlfriend… publically."

"I trust these terms are agreeable to you?" Alejandro could sense a frantic nature in his brothers' voice.

"Almost, but I need to be clarified on one detail." He leaned in with a glare so hard that despite José not being able to see him with his eyes he could see with his voice,

"Why are you doing this?"

"Excuse me?"

"You have to gain something from all of this," Alejandro's voice grew deep. "What do you get from me winning?"

The line was silent, with only the crackles of static between the two. Eventually José relented, "Fine. Alejandro," His voice softened considerably, "you were right when you deduced that the woman who gave me all this information to help you… is someone I'm more than fond towards," Alejandro could practically see his brother blush from the other line, "Catalina does not work for the network, however. She is but an intern. Moreover, her family has a lot less wealth than ours. And you know how Father is."

Alejandro nodded his head, "I do. Three years ago I had to breakup with Isabella because you exposed to Father that her family was from the circus."

He heard José sigh deeply into the phone, "Yes. And I now know how inconsiderate I was… but I really do care for this girl," though Alejandro could not see it, his brother was smirking on the other line, "As much as you do with Heather."

Alejandro's cheeks flushed, "Get to the point, José."

"The point is that I am twenty and she is eighteen." His brother paused for a moment, as if trying to find the most delicate way to put it, "Even though it has only been six months… we wish to elope."

Alejandro nearly choked on his own saliva, "M-Marriage!?"

"It may be fast, but we have both discussed the matter at great length and it is what we wish."

"How would you even do this?" The younger Burromuerto was now stammering, "Father would-"

"Which is where you come in." José quickly interjected. "I shouldn't have kept stalling for this long, Cat will be home soon and I promised her I would have had this straightened away before dinner. But yes, dear brother, Father would obviously disown me if I were to elope with Cat. He'd cut me off from all of the family funds. Even money from acting gigs that I worked on would be shriveled up due to those bullshit contracts he tricked me into signing, leaving it to be all in his name."

"I'm stuck in a lose-lose situation. I can follow my heart and wed the woman I love, to try to start a family and make something of myself rather than compete with you and Carlos for Fathers' favor. But if I did that, I would have no money to plan a proper wedding, and even less to start a new life. But if I don't marry, I would have the money for a wedding, and for anything else I could even dream of, but… I couldn't. I would be… alone."

Alejandro's jaw was now on the floor. He couldn't remember his brother confided to him like this, much less something this deeply personal.

"That's why I'm asking you to help me out on this." José broke Alejandro out of his thoughts, "If you are successful to get back in the competition with Cat and I's help, please give us half of the prize money if you win."

Alejandro froze.

Ah, yes. Here it was.

"I knew it." Alejandro voice was laced with venom, "You always want something."

"I know after everything in the past you must hate me," José quickly said, "But you must concede that the reasons I just laid out to you are noble. And in a way," His older brother paused, "This arrangement can help you too."

"And how is that?" Alejandro asked behind gritted teeth.

"Well, if that Noah kid never gotten you eliminated, we would have never had been having this conversation. And I would never have a chance to convince you that you were competing for the wrong reasons, my dear brother."

"Do not mention that name!" Alejandro spat, now standing up. "It's all because of that bastard that my one chance to prove myself to Father is now finished!"

"See!" Alejandro pulled the receiver away from his ear at the sound of his brothers' loud yelp, "This is what I was talking about! You and I have devoted our lives ever since Mother died to vie for his approval. I could never compete with Carlos and his soccer skills, so I took it out on you in the worst ways possible. And you… you became…" He paused, "Well, let's not get into that. But Father is controlling and pits us against each other, even after I've moved out and pursued acting and you're nearly an adult. And with the contracts he has devised, all my money I make from my work still goes to him, and he'll probably have it arranged so that all your money in whatever you end up pursuing still ends up in his pocket so we'll be forever trapped in his vortex of bullshit!"

"But you, y-you've stumbled upon a golden ticket of escape! You managed to bump into McLean on the street and he offered you an opportunity to trick twenty-two some odd idiot teenagers to agree to a third season of his show by going through some ass-crazy Awards Show ruse. It somehow works, and you're in the game. I watched you Alejandro, and until your slip up with Noah, you were phenomenal. You were on track to win enough money, money that Father has no ties to at all, to finally be free of him. You could be financially independent from that soulless bastard who manipulated us against each other throughout our childhoods, yet you still think that by winning you can somehow earn his love."

Alejandro's eyes were as wide as plates as José continued on, "But now you're eliminated. And I can help you get back not to win the prize money, but both our freedoms from the man who never cared about us after Mother passed."

The only sounds now that were coming out the receiver was José gasping for breath after his long winded tirade.

Alejandro was floored. He had never said it out loud before until now, but deep down, the only reason he had tried to compete was to win his Fathers' approval…

But wait, was this just a trick? José could have just made all of this up, right? He couldn't just agree to anything yet, he needed to ask his brother more questions or needed more time to think or-

"Shit, Cat's home." José cursed. "I didn't tell her yet about the plan, so I have to get off."

"Y-you didn't tell her yet!?"

"Why get a girl hopes up for nothing, right?" Alejandro could hear José drumming his fingers on some sort of table as a pair of boots began to click on the floor. "I'll call again in a couple hours, just give me your answer then. I know you'll make the right decision."

"Wait but-"

But nothing.

His brother was now gone.

Alejandro was alone again in the hotel room, with only a dial tone accompanying him.

He closed his eyes, and used his left hand to massage his forehead.

Faces from his past all seemed to converge on him at once, taunting and pleading with him to take a course of action.

Noah sat smug with his book in Economy Class, smirking over how he had to resort to help from his devil of a brother.

Tyler was on his knees, hands clasped together, pleading with him to return.

Sanders was looking at him with a look of concern, seated next to him with a look of concern in the airport terminal.

Two José's were in the backyard of the Burromuerto Estate.

One was younger, a cold smirk threatening him.

The Other was older, a warm smile greeting him. His hand was clasped with an unknown woman. Alejandro couldn't make out her face, but he could tell her smile was just as kind.

Father was standing away from him, his arms crossed behind his back near their family's fireplace, with the blaze aflame.

And Heather…

They were all there in the room at once. A cacophony of voices that seemed to soar to the heavens, all trying to make their case of which path he should take. It all blended together to be a chaotic screech of confusion.

Until they all blended together in harmony.

And he opened his eyes.

But the fire of harmony was snuffed out, with silence replacing it.

No one was there.

It was just Alejandro, Alone.

In a spark of rage, he threw the receiver against the mirror, causing it to shatter with a piercing roar.

In the cold Toronto night, the back window was open in a particular hotel room that had thirty-seven tiles on the ceiling. As a frigid breeze entered throughout the inside, the phone rang.

…

…

…

…

…

…

After six rings, the answering machine echoed to no one: "Alejandro, this is José. I've already left three different messages, please pickup. I know you must be mad, but I told Cat everything and she's been sick with worry over you. I'm worried about you-"

…

The phone began to ring once more, cutting off the last caller.

…

…

…

…

…

It rang five more times before the answering machine echoed to no one: "Hey Alejandro! It's me, Sanders. I know it must be kind of late where you are, but I just wanted to make sure you're okay. MacArthur and I landed in Nevada already ahead of schedule, it's actually really nice here. So… yeah. Have a good night!"

…

…

…

Partly why this has been so long to make is because I didn't know how to write a chapter that largely takes place over the phone in an interesting way. Hopefully you can tell me if I eventually succeeded with that. Plus I originally wanted to include a lot more flashbacks about Alejandro's past, but I didn't want to make this too bloated, especially with this long of a wait and filled with content that I would include in future chapters anyway.

But yeah, Jose has made Alejandro quite an offer! Help in the Aftermath challenge to return to the game in exchange of half of the million if he eventually wins it all. Will Alejandro tell Jose to screw off and try to win his way back himself? Or will he take him up on his offer? And is Jose even telling the truth?

To end on more personal news, my last two finals are tomorrow, which means I should give me more free time to write. However every time I have said this I have not followed through, so I understand if you don't believe me. In fact, I'm not even sure if I believe me.

But since the next chapter will be the Area 51 challenge, I feel like it should be easier (aside from finding out how to fit a song in it, lol) so who knows.

Hope you all have a great day and a good night! :)