"Mom, please. I know you think it's stupid, but I have to try."
"It's not that, sweetie. It's just... I think you should move on. It's been years. I talked to Cindy; you remember my friend, Cindy? She can get you a job at the post office. Good hours, benefits!"
"It's a million dollars, mom. Even if the hours are good, I won't be able to afford my own place for a while."
"I'm not trying to kick you out."
"I know."
"I just think there are better... Total Drama ended a long time ago. You have to grow up at some point. You have a baby to think about now, Gwen."
Gwen winced. She had to grow up, her mother told her. As far as she was concerned, she'd grown up plenty. Maybe even too much. She tried to think of the words, the way to disarm the admittedly sound argument her mother was providing. But with the crying infant in one arm, it was hard to focus. It was hard to focus anyway, as tired as she was these days- heavy bags under her eyes, her black hair, once dyed and styled, now hung to her shoulders in a mess. Her son continued to kick and scream in her arms- and so Gwen handed her mother the letter in a huff, giving off more attitude than she meant, before turning, and taking the bottle that had been sitting on the counter next to her. Mercifully, her son accepted it, eagerly drinking, and importantly, quieting down.
Her mother gave a sigh, looking over the letter. "Gwen, I understand. A million dollars. A chance to see some old friends again. I really get it. I do. It's easy to see what a great chance it is. But that's all it is. A chance. That million dollars isn't a guarantee, honey. It isn't real, not really. Jake is what's real."
Gwen looked up from her son, sharply. "Jake could use that money, mom. If you want to talk about chances? That kind of money gives me a chance for our own place. It gives me a chance to start saving to send him to college when he gets older. I need that money. Jake needs it."
"And you think no one else needs that money?" her mother asked.
What a strange question. Gwen looked around at their apartment. It wasn't so bad, not really. It was furnished. Running water, electric. The fridge was reasonably full, even if they didn't eat like kings. Two bedrooms, one for Gwen and Jake, the other for her mother. But damn if it didn't feel confining.
"As much as me?" Gwen retort, a little defensive.
"We aren't hungry, Gwen. I know we aren't eating off fine China; but don't forget, it could be a lot worse." Her mother placed the letter down, sighing. "My point is, it's been what. Ten years? Eleven? No one's just going to let you have the money. I just think it's silly. You have an opportunity here, a real one, with real work, real money. I don't want you to get your hopes up and have it all be for nothing, hon."
Jake was beginning to cry again. Exasperated, Gwen put the bottle aside.
"C'mon. C'mon, Jake. Stop, please," Gwen mumbled- a voice on the verge of tears, the stress starting to eat at her, and the lack of support. Well, it wasn't a lack of support, Gwen knew. Her mother offered her support. Just not the support she wanted.
"Here. Give him to me."
Gwen handed Jake to her mother- the older woman cradling him, patting his back. The baby let out one belch, and then another, before finally seeming to settle down.
"...it's a million dollars, mom," Gwen said after a silence. "I have to try. I know I might not win... but if I did... I could get a new place. YOU could get a new place."
Her mother didn't seem convinced. She stared at Gwen, rocking the baby, before giving a sigh. "Do what you think is best."
There it was. Gwen knew the phrase well. Her mother wasn't on board- not really. But she wasn't going to argue anymore. Gwen turned, looking at the letter. It heralded a new season of Total Drama, assured Gwen they wanted her back; no, NEEDED her back. They were getting the band back together, and it wouldn't be the same without Canada's favorite goth girl.
Goth girl.
Gwen caught her reflection on the surface of a nearby counter. She exhaled through her nostrils, a mockery of laughter. Goth girl. She wasn't even a goth WOMAN anymore- she was just tired.
"Trust me, mom," Gwen spoke. "I know what's best."
The sky might have been bleak, and the ocean might have been rough, but Beth was all smiles. She practically skipped up and on to the boat, sighing happily as the salty sea air hit her nose. At the top of the ramp was an intern- no, security, looked like? A tall, dour man in a black short sleeve and equally black baggy pants. He held up a hand, Beth nearly colliding with him, taking a moment to measure her up. After a while, he spoke.
"Beth?" His hand lowered, the other hand waving her almost dismissively past. "Go ahead. We have craft services set up below deck. We have a while before we set sail, and a while before we get to the island, so you might as well get comfortable."
"Thanks!" Was all Beth replied before hopping past the man. She wasn't trying to be rude, and was only vaguely aware that she might be; but it was hard to care. She hadn't seen her friends in years, let alone spoken to many of them. She'd kept up with Lindsay for a while, sure, but gradually the two lost touch, as friends sometimes do. Not that she held it against anyone- that was just how it was sometimes, after all.
The boat itself wasn't much to look like on the outside, a standard ferry you might see in any city in any country, and the appeal certain wasn't greatened by the muddy footprints and cold water tracked on deck. Heading below deck, though, revealed a different picture; a warm, cozy cabin where the first contestants were already beginning to trickle in. The lights were dimmed, not as such to prevent vision, but to provide a certain comfort. The floor was carpeted, giving a certain regality to the chamber, even if the floor was presently soaked with dirt and water, the tables and chairs made out of a rich brown wood. They probably weren't "rich", so much as made cheaply and to give the illusion as such, but Beth hardly cared about that now.
A big smile spread across her face as she stepped into the room. At one of the middle tables, an old friend of hers, Cody, seemed to be unenthusiastically showing something to Ezekiel. Off to the side, it was hard to mistake Lindsay chatting away eagerly at Bridgette. Beth's smile faltered a bit when she saw a figure hunched over a table alone. She craned her head to get a look- only to pull back. They wore a plain black hoodie pulled over their head, with plain blue jeans beneath. Who it was she couldn't say for certain- a plain white mask obscuring their face. It was a tad jarring to Beth; but she quickly put it out of her mind, brightening up when she heard her name called.
"Beth! Over here!" Lindsay was stood up, waving her friend over frantically. "Come on, sit with us, sit with usssss!"
Bridgette was more laid back- a calm smile on her face, a casual wiggle of her fingers. "Hey, Beth."
Beth broke out into a grin; waving to Cody and Ezekiel as she passed them, the two exchanging waves back as she made her way over.
"Guys, I missed you-"
Beth barely had gotten the words out when Lindsay sprang to her feet, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Oh my god you look so good!" Lindsay squealed, tightening her grip around Beth.
Beth really did. She'd lost a little weight between World Tour and now, her braces remained off, hair hanging in a bob just above her shoulders. Her glasses were a little thinner, though her outfit was still modest- a green sweater with flowers adorning it, her pants tanned, and on her left ring finger, a diamond.
Beth giggled a bit, positively giddy. "Lindsay! C'mon!" She wrapped her arms around her friend and squeezed. "You look great, too! How've you been?"
"No, you look great!" Lindsay countered, beginning to loosen her grip on Beth. It was a mercy, too. The poor girl was beginning to become short of breath. Lindsay herself was doing well, it seemed, though not dressed in her usual fashion. Though, perhaps with time passed, it had become usual for her; a simple buttoned down white blouse and black trousers, hair tied into a long ponytail.
"Good to see you, Beth," Bridgette comment from her seat. She wore an absent smile on her lips, seeming... perhaps 'bored' wouldn't be quite so apt as 'detached'. Beth was a bit taken aback at how Bridgette looked, well, exactly the same. At least in terms of fashion, that was, with torn blue jeans shorts, and... was that the exact same hoodie? Her hair wasn't in a ponytail, hanging loose below her shoulders, and maybe she wore more make up than usual, but... it was the same old Bridgette.
"Good to see you too," Beth replied, giving her a warm smile and nod of the head. "It's been way too long, how have you guys been?"
Lindsay practically yanked Beth into a seat before answering. "So good. I'm in sales now- make-up and turquoise jewelry!"
Bridgette's response was more subdued, and delivered with a shrug. "You know. Same old, same old."
Lindsay, who had been on the receiving end of Bridgette's apparent apathy even before Beth had shown up, either didn't notice, or didn't mind. Her attention was on Beth now, anyway- her face brightening even more when she looked at Beth's hand. "Oh. Em. Gee. Is that a ring?!" The blonde gasped, grasping Beth's hands and examining it intently.
Beth nod- unable to help as pride welled up inside her. "Brady and I got married four years-"
Lindsay cut Beth off with a shrill scream and another hug. "Oh my god I'm so happy for youuuuu!"
Bridgette held back a sigh, her foot tapping underneath the table. "Yeah, that's great."
Across the room, the hooded figure stood up. Tall and thin, he turned in one fluid motion, heading back up deck, holding an elbow up to cover his face further. That was what one would assume, anyway; it was possible he was doing his best Dracula impression, if it was in fact a man. No one noticed their exit, anyway, all eyes on Beth. They didn't notice the figure cast one long glance at everybody, before heading top deck.
Not far from where Beth reunited with old friends, a similar, but different scene played out. A separate boat- separate cast. At the foot of the ramp was a smaller boy, with short, black hair, round face and effeminate features. He shivered a bit, tugging the blue cardigan he wore a bit tighter, and took a moment to swallow. It was cold, true, but that wasn't why he was shaking. He tried to focus. Steady himself. One foot in front of the other. It wasn't that bad. The worst case was he got sent home early, where he'd curl up in bed under a heavy blanket and refuse to acknowledge the whole thing. The best case was he made it far, maybe even won.
No. No, the more he thought, the more it became clear the best case was he was sent home early. The worst case was he was humiliated on national television. He tried to muster the courage to take the steps, but his body seemed to grow heavier and heavier. He could do it. He could-
"Here we are, Busy E's!"
Jean jolted a bit as he heard the voice behind him, spinning around. Another boy, much taller than he was, and dressed much... louder than Jean. A puffy, sleeveless white vest showed off a pair of tanned, muscular arms, jeans deliberately torn at the knees. Half would describe his bright, neon shoes as designer, and the other half tacky; but it was a good match for the sunglasses he wore despite the sun not being out, his blonde hair spiked upright, above a brown mustache and goatee. Above him, he held a phone aimed at his face, grinning wide as he spoke into it.
"This is the boat that'll take me to island... whatever. If you're just tuning in, this is Road to a Million part two. Longtime Busy E's know I cracked a million subs years ago, but we're here to crack this contest and win a million bucks. Of course, I'll be donating that to a charity of YOUR choosing, polls for that are already open on my Insta."
Jean watched the man curiously. Was he some kind of celebrity? The man strode along confidently, stopping when he saw Jean.
"Alright E's, looks like we got our first other contestant now." The man grabbed Jean from behind, moving their faces next to each other as he got them both in frame. "A-yo. It's your boy Paul-E Paulie! Here on the set of Total Drama; what's your name, girl?"
Jean froze, horrified. He could feel his face reddening, voice caught in his throat. He could feel the man- Paulie- place his hand on Jean's back, drifting lower, and lower...
Jean felt a jolt run through his body, yanking himself away from Paulie. Jean wished he could tell Paulie to get his hands off, to go away and leave him alone. Instead, all he managed was "B-boy! I'm a boy!"
Paulie seemed to take it in stride. "Whoops," he said, moving past Jean. Then, he turned his phone to the boat. "Looks like our new buddy isn't a Busy E. No problem, we gotta get back on that grind anyway." Once the lens was off the two boys, Paulie gave Jean a rough shove. Jean hadn't been expecting it- nearly falling on his face, but he at least had the balance to catch himself. He glanced over at Paulie as if to say something, but didn't, and knew he wouldn't. It didn't matter at that point anyway. Paulie was already halfway up the ramp. Jean stood, silent- clenching and unclenching his fists. He wondered what would happen if he just turned and left, didn't get on the boat. Would his contract even allow that? It would be easy for the show to go on without him. But then again, that's how Jean felt in general.
Before his thoughts could drift to darker places, he heard more voices from behind. He turned nervously, as if anticipating another shove. It never came. Instead came two figures, male and female, dark skinned with sharp, handsome faces. They were too similar looking to not be related. Brother and sister?
They were both dressed similarly, as well. The boy in a maroon suit and tie over a black shirt, matching pants and shoes. The girl had a similarly colored outfit, only replacing the pants with a skirt. The boy's hair was a high-top fade- the girl's were dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail, glasses sat on each of their noses. Small and round in the boy's case, sharp and thin in the girl's.
"Look, let's just ask him," the boy said, gesturing to Jean. "I don't get your problem."
"You're my problem," the girl respond quickly. The words came naturally to her, as if she'd uttered them a thousand times prior. "I know where I'm going, Victor. I knew you were dumb but I at least thought you knew how to read. Cast and Crew, This way. Did you miss the seventeen signs back there?"
"Yeah, well, there's a couple boats, I just wanted to check! 'scuse me!" the man turned to Jean. "This is the boat for Total Drama, yeah?"
"Um..." Jean stared at the two, silent. He wasn't sure how to respond. It was a simple enough question.
"Oh look. He's as dumb as you," the girl said.
"Will you shut up, Victoria?" Victor huff. "Do you work here?" he asked again, turning back to Jean.
"He's not wearing a crew jacket, idiot."
"Shut up!"
Jean stared at the two, taken aback- before shaking his head. "Um, no. I'm... a contestant to. This... this is the right boat, I think. There's a couple. One for new contestants, and... for the returning. Um, another boat for returning, I mean."
"Oh. See. Look at that." Victor gestured to Victoria, exasperated. "TWO boats, Victoria. Almost like that's why I wanted to double check. It's called reiterating."
"Reiterating that you're a dumb-ass," Victoria snort, turning and head up the ramp. Victor sigh, turning to Jean.
"Sorry 'bout her man. My sister's a bi... not friendly." He extended a hand. "I'm Victor, sure you heard. That's Victoria. It'll get confusing, probably."
Jean hesitantly took and shook his hand. "I'm Jean."
"Nice to meet you, Jean." Victor sighed, looking up at the boat. "This whole place is confusing. Barely any interns out here to help. I just wanted to make sure this was the right place, but my sister is always so sure of everything. That's what that was about."
When Jean didn't reply, Victor cleared his throat.
"Uh... sorry to unload all that, man. You wanna head on?" he asked, gesturing to the boat with his thumb. Jean nod slowly, turning to head up the ramp. Victor watched him, shaking his head. "...not a big talker. Cool," he said, before following behind.
Time had changed many competitors, but it had only aged Duncan. His green mohawk still stood, piercing's still in their places, plus a few more. The skull on his shirt grinned a bit wider, a snake slithering between it's eyes, but it was still a skull he wore, even if it was partially obscured by a leather jacket. His blue jeans were long and faded, sneakers not even tied, the laces merely tucked in. The self-assured smirk on his face was the same as it had been when he was a teenager, though. Even though it had been ten years since World Tour, his eyes still glinted when he saw a familiar figure standing at the top of the ramp.
She wore a long black coat- the sort of faux leather that must have cost a fortune on brand name alone, with a fluffy collar, leather leggings and leather loafers. But even with the new outfit, he'd recognize the bob of brown hair anywhere, the familiar voice that chatted to the intern at the entrance. Running a hand through his hair, Duncan approached- leaning on railing next to her, looking over casually.
"Hey they, princess. Happy to see me?" he asked, giving a wink he was sure would get a rise out of her. After kissing Gwen, the two had never really made up. Besides, it was Courtney's fault for being so uptight. He waited patiently for the scolding she was sure to deliver. Only... she didn't.
Courtney turned to face Duncan, an eyebrow raised in either confusion or amusement. "Oh, Duncan. Hi."
Duncan was quiet. He wasn't sure how to respond to... well, the lack of response. So he stared, dumbfounded. Was she really not mad at him? The stare went on for a little too long, it must have, because Courtney exchanged a look with the intern, then back at Duncan.
"Something wrong?" she asked him.
This was enough to get Duncan to shake his head. "Wh... uh, no," he said, stumbling a bit. "Expected you to, you know, yell at me or something."
Courtney seemed a little amused by this- faint smile creeping on her face. "What? Like the old days?" she chuckled, shaking her head absently. "That was a long time ago, Duncan. If You're talking about the Gwen thing, I was over that eight years ago."
Duncan was genuinely surprised, as if moving on from one's negative experiences in life was a strange thing to do. "Oh. Uh. Cool."
He really didn't know what else to say. He was used to a certain rhythm between he and Courtney- so to find out that was no longer the case, well, he wasn't sure what to make of it.
Mercifully, the awkwardness was broken up by the arrival of a third figure behind them. A muscular blonde man dressed in his absolute best, a nice blue suit and white collared shirt, his hair combed neatly to the side.
"Hey, guys. Excuse me. Duncan and Courtney, huh? Good to see you."
Duncan squinted a bit, nearly falling off the boat when he recognized who it was. "Geoff?"
Geoff gave a nod and a yawn. "Hey, guys. Should I do that again? Hey, dudes," he greeted with a bit more cheer in his voice. "Sorry about that. I'm exhausted. Had to take a lot of vacation time from the office to be here, so I've really been burning that..." another yawn, "...midnight oil to make up for it."
"Geoff?" Courtney smiled a she looked him over. "Wow, I can't believe it! You look absolutely crazy- you in an office?"
"Well, party couldn't last forever," Geoff shrugged. "Had to get serious at some point. You should have heard the talk at the water cooler, everyone at the office is razzing me about going back on Total Drama. Telling me I'd have to arrange one heck of a party when I won and all. These days I'd have to hire someone just to plan it for me. Weird, huh?"
Duncan stared, slack jawed.
"Not at all!" Courtney shook her head. "That's absolutely fantastic! Why don't we get something to eat and talk about it? You know when the show got cancelled, I really put everything into my law degree- now I've got my own firm! We should catch up- oh, where's Bridgette?"
That was where the next awkward pause came in. Geoff's smile dropped- then came back again just as quickly.
"I really couldn't tell you. I'm not sure if she's competing this time," he answered calmly. "We broke up a long time ago. I haven't heard from her since."
Courtney winced. "Oh. Oh, god. I'm sorry Geoff, didn't mean to open old wounds."
Geoff held up a hand. "Nah, nothing to be sorry for. That's all in the past now, anyway. Besides, if anything, I want to thank her if I see her again. She was the one who really told me I needed to grow up and get in gear. Heck, breaking up was probably the best thing to happen to me!"
"Oh, well... that's great, I think!" Courtney beamed. "In that case, why don't we all head down? Getting a bit chilly out here."
As she turned, she came face to face with the mask figure, the man quickly scuttling past as she looked on in confusion.
"Who was THAT?" Duncan asked, alarmed.
Courtney just shrugged, shaking her head. "I... I don't know."
A lot of the contestants had been impressed with how luxurious the cruise ships gave the appearance of being. Prisha was not one of them.
Her childhood years were spent in a wealthy household, in a wealthy town, her teen years spent in the most exclusive of private schools. Exclusivity continued well into her adult years, spending nearly every night at the top of some VIP list, be it for a nightclub, a party, or a movie premiere. Men and women waited on her hand and for all for a chance for a chance to make her happy. It wasn't hard to see why- her dark skin, smooth, straight black hair that came just to her shoulders, her purple dress that sparkled as it hugged her body tightly, showing a bit of chest. Her already beautiful features were made up just enough- a touch of eye shadow and dark brown lipstick. When she sat in an empty booth, it was filled within seconds.
So how was it she was now sitting across a literal clown?
"Come onnnnnn. That joke didn't get ONE smile outta ya?" she, the clown, asked. "Not even a chuckle or a snicker? I wouldn't be much of a clown if I didn't at least get a chortle!"
Prisha was perhaps the least amused she'd ever been in her entire life. She'd been sitting alone, sipping a cola that was in dire need of rum, when the clown had suddenly plopped into the seat across from her, and without so much as an introduction, starting tossing out knock knock jokes.
What a ridiculous outfit, Prisha couldn't help but think. Too pink, Prisha thought, even for a clown. The girl had curly pink hair down to about her shoulders. Her face was painted white as a base- typical of most clowns, it seemed- but then the pink was back into play. Pink lips, small, pink triangles painted above and below the eyes like split diamonds, with pink eyeliner and the faintest of- of course- pink make up on the cheeks. Just a hint of it, really. The dress she wore was obnoxiously puffy. The torso was blue with big, puffy pink buttons running down the center, the skirt a lighter shade of sky blue with some sparkles thrown in. It was sleeveless, save for two puffs around the shoulders, and on her feet, two striped socks leading down to a pair of large pink clown shoes. Of course, the cherry on top... a big, round, pink clown nose.
Prisha hated pink.
Prisha hated clowns.
Prisha hated this girl.
Prisha hated Total Drama.
The clown clapped her hands together. "OKEY DOKEY, I GOT ONE!" she exclaimed. "Whaddya call it when a rabbit-"
"Okay, look. Clowngirl," Prisha began, eyes narrowing.
The clown responded to the interruption brightly. "Call me Sally! Sally Smiles! Or Silly Sally, Silly Sally Smiles, Ms Smiles, Ms Sally, Ms Silly, or-"
"Shut. Up." Prisha hissed. "You're not funny and you're not cute. Leave me alone."
Sally gasped, taken aback- only to break out into a grin. "Awww, I think someone has a bad case of the grumpies- and the only cure for that is laughter~"
Prisha groaned, sinking into her seat and pinching the bridge of her nose. Luckily, for her at least, no more jokes would come. Instead, a young man approached, an amused glint in his eye.
"You know, I always thought about running away and joining the circus, but, I hope I didn't get on the wrong boat," he remark, glancing around. He was good looking, Prisha had to concede, with a face somewhere between handsome, and boyishly cute. His hair was long and blonde, skin a light tan. He looked to be fairly muscular, even with his body covered up by a red track jacket and pants.
"Nope! Lucky for you, I'm the wholeeee circus!" Sally hum. "Oh, but stick around! I was just about to demonstrate the healing power of laughter!"
"Hmmm. You know, I was always more of a doctor-prescribed medication guy, myself, but I'm always up for a joke. Name's Ash," He said, taking a seat at the table. Prisha looked at him miserable. Well, it was true. When she sat at any empty table, it filled up, after all.
"Perfect! Sally always does better with an audience!" The clown giggled. "So! Since we're on a boat, how about this one? Why did the captain give his boat a coat of paint?... Because its timbers were shivering!"
Prisha rolled her eyes, sighing.
Ash smirked, shaking his head. "Okay, that isn't bad. I've got one. So a man is buying a yacht. He turns to the seller and asks, 'does a boat like this sink much'? Seller says, 'usually only once'."
Sally snorted, giggling to herself. "That's awful, I'm stealing that one!"
"Oh-kay." Prisha placed her hands flat on the table, standing. "Nice meeting you guys, but I'm going to go throw myself overboard or something."
As Prisha stood to walk away, leaving the two to their inanities, someone else caught her eye. Sat at a table diagonal to theirs, a young woman sat, scribbling in a note book. She was attractive, though nothing on Prisha herself, she thought, blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun, thin framed glasses on a small nose, a beauty mark next to a pair of red lips. A black suit jacket was pulled over a white shirt and dark skirt, one leg crossed over the other, her stocking clad legs topped off with a pair of heels. Once she caught Prisha's gaze, she closed her book, pushing it to one side. It was clear she'd been watching the three; for how long, Prisha didn't know.
"What's that you're doing?" Prisha's eyes narrowed dangerously, crossing her arms tightly. "Watching people isn't any less creepy when we're on TV, you know. What's in the book."
"Oh, this?" the girl smiled absently, folding her hands on the table. "Just some homework. I'm a student."
"Student of what?"
"Psychology. I'm Andrea." she extended a hand.
Prisha didn't shake. "Whatever. Whatever your 'homework' is, just make sure it has nothing to do with me," she said, before turning and marching off.
Alejandro stood at the foot of the ramp, quiet as he stared at the boat. Most of the returning contestants had a season or two under their belts, some three. Alejandro had only been around for World Tour, and in that time he'd proven himself to be the biggest ass on Canadian television. Maybe he'd get to undo some of that damage done before being sent home first. Try as he might, no matter how much time passed he simply couldn't envision a different fate.
"You worried, Al?" a voice next to him asked, interrupting the whirlpool of thoughts.
Alejandro looked down at the woman whos' arm locked with his; his fiancee of about a year. He smiled, placing his hand on hers, squeezing.
"You should know by now, a Buerromuerto never worries, mi amore," he said with a confident smile. His eyes moved back to the boat, then back to the eyes of his lover. "I'm just thinking of some things, that's all. Shall we get a move on? I'd hate for the boat to leave without us, LeShawna."
"Nope." LeShawna hugged his arm tighter, a smirk on her face. "No way we're missing out on a million this time. Four times is the charm, right?"
"Right." Alejandro cleared his throat, before looking down at himself. "Um... the only thing is. Are you sure the... outfits are necessary?" he asked.
Of course, this was in reference to the matching black sweaters the two wore; "AlShawna Wedding Fund", it read, with a picture of the two's faces blown up in the middle.
"Yes," LeShawna said firmly. "...alright, look. I know they're tacky, but mama made them for us. You wanna be the one to explain to her why they ain't on TV?"
Alejandro shook his head grimly. "Fair point. Vamos."
As they made their way forward, they nearly bumped into a familiar woman who hadn't been paying attention. Tall, long raven colored hair, a red coat over her black dress.
"Hey, watch it!" the girl said, her sunglasses nearly falling off- only to pause, jaw dropping as she removed them herself. "...wait a second. I just thought you were some interns. Alejandro? LeShawna?!"
"Oh, sorry about that, Heather!" LeShawna greeted, taking a moment to look her old rival up and down. "Didn't see you there, almost ran you right over. How you been, girl?"
"Hola. Been a long time," Alejandro greeted, a bit awkwardly. He was still coming to grips with a lot of his past- and he hadn't spoken to Heather once since Hawaii.
Heather didn't respond immediately. Instead, she sized the two up in disbelief.
"So. You guys are together now?" she asked. Not sounding mad, not sounding disappointed. Just sounding... taken aback. Far aback.
"Yup. Been... four years?" LeShawna guessed, taking a moment to think. "Yeah, about that. Why? Surprised?"
"Yeah... surprising. I never would have guessed." Heather frowned, before giving a quick shake of her head. "But uh, good to see you're happy or whatever. I'm not married to my boyfriend or anything yet. Uh, tw... three! I have three boyfriends. Yeah. All younger. No big deal."
"Younger? Aren't you only twenty-nine, seniorita?" Alejandro asked, amused, Heather clearly flustered and caught off guard.
For her part, Heather wasn't even sure why she was lying. She'd already gotten over Alejandro, and she didn't stay up at night thinking about her rivalry with LeShawna, either. That was kid stuff. So what, then? What bothered her?
"...they're also super models. Two of them. One is a scientist," Heather stammered out, face red. "Look, can we just get on this boat?!"
With a flick of her hair, she turned, storming off past them.
Alejandro and LeShawna watched them go. The man shook his head, smirking, before raising LeShawna's hand and giving it a kiss.
"Vamos."
Perhaps no one looked or felt more out of place than the girl in the catholic school uniform- her brown hair tumbling down to her shoulders in curls, her features cute, but lined with worry. She mumbled a small prayer to herself, clutching the cross around her neck in one hand, the other clutching her skirt. The contest was one thing, but she'd never even been on a boat before. No matter how much she was assured it was safe, she couldn't help but think of the vast, open water, and what might be underneath. When she began to feel the first droplets of rain hit her skin, though, she knew she had to be on her way. Taking a breath, she tucked her cross into her shirt, hurrying on to the boat.
At the top of the ramp, an intern stopped her; glancing down at a list.
"Let's see, let's see. You... Helena?" he asked.
Helena gave a quick nod. "That's right."
"Go ahead." The intern stepped aside, waving her through. "Setting sail soon, so get comfortable while you-"
"Whoa, hold up!" A flash of denim appeared next to Helena- a young blonde man clad in a jean jacket and faded 'Steel Maiden' shirt appearing next to Helena, doubling over as he pant. "David... name's David, I'm here!" he pant, looking up at the two.
"David... David. Yep. G'on through." The intern gave another fairly disinterested wave.
"Phew! Made it!" David sighed in relief, turning to Helena with a glint in his eye. "Man, this is exciting stuff, isn't it? Sailing toward adventure and all? David. Which, uh, I just said anyway." He stuck a hand toward her sharply.
Helena was taken aback, glancing around, before lightly taking and shaking his hand. "I'm Helena. I... suppose it is a bit exciting. I'm a little worried though, I've never been sailing."
"Ah, who cares- neither have I!" David smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "First time for everything. Hopefully, first time for winning a million dollars, too. Do you think you could get a boat for less than a million? Might be cool to buy one. What would you do with the money if you won?"
Helena blinked- taken aback by the young man's sudden, rather personal line of questioning. "I, um... I don't..."
"Personal, I know, don't worry! Just messing with you. Breaking the ice." Again, he gave her a pat on the shoulder, then hit her with a pair of finger guns, already beginning to walk away. "Catch you inside!"
Helena watched him go, a bit dumbfounded; unsure how to process the strange encounter. Clearing her throat, she stepped forward, and on to the vessel.
The blast of warmth she felt as she headed below deck was an absolute relief. It was a cozy atmosphere, especially now that the ship had filled up with contestants. The atmosphere was light with chatter, contestants enjoying food, drink and... a clown?
Well, the clown was one of the less confusing things that day, anyway. Watching the rest of the room, Helena started to slide into an empty seat- only to pop back up, startled, when she nearly sat on someone. A young man had been laying on the seat, what looked like an instrument case under the table. He was strikingly good looking, with shaggy brown hair and a scraggly beard, of Asian descent. Despite his good looks, he was dressed very poorly, with a stained red hoodie underneath a tattered brown jacket, and muddy boots on his feet. The young man sat up, blinking dumbly, as he looked at Helena.
"Mph. We there yet?" he asked her, not covering his mouth as he yawned loudly.
"Um... n-no," Helena said, worried she'd upset him. "I'm sorry, I went to sit down and didn't see you-"
"Nope. No problem." As quick as he'd woken, his eyes were closed again, laying back down. "Just uh... give me a poke when we're there. Nice meeting you."
A moment later, he was snoring. Helena could do nothing but watch, slightly astounded.
"Oh, don't worry about it. He's been sleeping since he got here," a boy said from the table next to her. He was dressed in an old boy scout uniform, a flight jacket pulled over top, his black hair neatly trimmed. "That's just Akihiko. Or, that's what the name on his instrument case says, anyway. I'm Steven, nice to meet you."
"Oh, it's nice to meet you too," Helena smiled, bowing her head politely.
Steven gestured to the seat in front of him. "Why don't you sit a minute?" he offered. "Lot to take in, and we're about to start sailing."
Helena thought about it, before giving a small nod, sliding into the seat across from him, eyeing his uniform curiously. Steven caught note of her curiosity, chuckling.
"Yeah, I look a little old to be a boyscout, right?" he mused. "This is just an old uniform. I've been in college for a few years now, but the church my troop used to meet in burned down. That's what I'm competing for."
"That's awful," Helena shook her head, frowning. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope no one was hurt..."
"Nah, empty." Steven gave a shake of his head. "Just a freak electrical. I'm just wearing this to rep them, that's all."
"I'm glad you're competing to help out," Helena told him. "That's very kind of you... I'll say a prayer for your church, and your troop."
There was a snort next to them. Behind them, a young woman sat, with incredibly pale skin, and messy blue hair that fell to her chest, bundled up tightly in a frog hoodie, black skirt and black boots.
"You must be pretty stupid," the girl said, a smirk on her face. She didn't even look at Helena- her eyes completely focused on her cell phone, her thumbs rapidly slamming away at some game neither of the two recognized. "Hitting you with a sob story out of the gate so you won't vote for him. You're both dumb."
"I... um..." Helena didn't know what to say, looking away as her face turned red. She hadn't said anything to the girl- why would she be so rude?
"Oh, no sob story." Steven didn't seem bothered. "Just competing for a good cause. Trying to, anyway."
The girl snort. "Yeah, that's what literally everyone says. Hey, girl with the brown hair. Take it from me. You trust everyone, and there are plenty of people willing to take advantage~"
She finally looked up, giving Helena a grin, only to look back at her phone a second later.
"Me, I got it all figured out. When I win, I'm spending all my winnings on gacha and a VR headset. That's how you know I'm honest."
"Hmm. Selfless, too," Steven observed.
"Oh, and anime figures," the girl continued, not bothered by Steven's remark. "And so what? People only compete in these things for themselves anyway, I'm just open about it."
Above them, a chime went off. "All contestants, please return below deck, we will be departing momentarily. All contestants, below deck."
"Well... looks like this is it," Steven said, glancing around. "Start of something new. Hopefully, something fun."
"-repeat, all contestants, below deck."
"Wow. So those are your kids?" Ezekiel asked as he looked at Cody's phone- the geek having been showing off baby and wedding photos, as the ritual often was when meeting acquaintances you hadn't seen in some time.
"Uh huh. Rufus and Danny," Cody smiled, swiping through his photos. Cody hadn't changed much- but Ezekiel was in better health, it seemed. Bald, maybe, and still remarkably pale, but, he was sporting a scraggly beard and... comfortable, if not trendy grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Unfortunately... the 'bling' from Total Drama Island was back, gold chains hanging freely from his neck.
"Wow. That's awesome, man," Ezekiel told him, patting him roughly- unintentionally so- on the back. "Still. I can't believe you married Sierra."
Cody sighed, forcing a smile. "Ha ha. Yeah, I know. Funny, how these things work out..."
Cody looked up from his phone, going silent when he locked eyes with a figure across the room. The woman, dressed in all black, stared at Cody, before turning, and hurrying away.
"...Gwen?" he murmured, watching her go, only for Ezekiel to snap him out of it.
"I can't believe this though, eh? Total Drama, back again! This is like... the best thing to ever happen to me!" Ezekiel said. "I'm making it this time, man. You watch!"
Cody watched Gwen disappear in another direction- before shaking himself back to attention, turning to Ezekiel. "Hehe, yeah. Well, you said that last time, didn't you?" he teased.
"Don't worry about me. I'm not making the same mistakes again!" Ezekiel assured Cody- or maybe he was really assuring himself. "I'll make it to the finals! Final four! A...at least the merge!"
Once more, the intercom crackled on.
"Attention contestants- we're setting sail for the island, ETA one hour. Destination...
Camp Chelee!"
Ezekiel clenched his fists tightly, nervous excitement welling up inside him. "I can't wait," he grinned. "One more chance to get it right this time!"