OhmyGod, I can't believe the producer people announced that Courtney was oficcially Hispanic! Yaay! I'm gonna have soooo much fun with this concept… just you wait.

To everyone who reviewed: Thank you so soooo much! ^^

BelleDanseuse: DxC simply has a something that DxG will never have. Glad you agree with me ;)

CarmillaD: ¿Querés creer que ni vi el final? Solamente vi hasta donde elimina a Courtney, y pasando los episodios rápido; hasta tal punto me enojé con el programa ¬¬ hace rato me viene cansando, ahora tiré la toalla. Algún día lo voy a retomar. Gracias por tus comentarios :) traté de introducir temas oscuro para crear un ambiente de tensión, y sueños rotos (como los nustros T_T), por lo menos esa era la idea jajaja.

Part II

History does not repeat itself. The historians repeat one another.
-Max Beerbohm

Duncan was sure the problems between him and Courtney had given themselves subtly along the way, without either of them noticing the change. But if he were asked to pinpoint where it all had started, he knew exactly what he would say.

The night he had met Courtney's father.

He remembered well the first day he had gone to her house. Even though her father wasn't there that day, he was still considerably nervous about enduring the trial of her mother, the woman Courtney talked about and looked up to so much.

So he had traded his normal tight black skull shirt for a simple white tee and a light green open shirt over it, but Courtney hadn't thought anything was up until she noticed how strangely quiet he was. Then she started to point out that his usual dog collar was missing, along with about half of his piercings. After she finally realized he was nervous, she had spent the rest of the bus ride and mile-long walk to her house looking at him like it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

He was too distracted to understand why she was surprised at his attitude. She had probably expected him to act like the regular disrespectful punk he was in front of… well everyone.

Courtney was kind enough not to point out that it didn't matter how well he groomed up, because her parents had already seen him on the show and they knew his true nature –and he knew she had thought it.

But still, fixing himself up made him feel a little better.

And the thing was, Duncan was a complete noobie at seeking approval from someone. He had no idea how to act to make a good first impression. He was in uncharted territory when it came to universally known courtesy and conversation rules.

When they finally reached her house, a tan woman in a white dress opened the door, smiling a smile that Duncan didn't trust. It looked as if she had smiled before seeing who she was opening to, and then kept smiling to give him a false sense of security.

Mrs. Phan, or Sofía as she had insisted Duncan called her, was a woman in her early thirties, who wore summer dresses in the house with almost religious rigor, and kept her long black mane of hair straight on the same manner, much like Courtney did with her own brown hair. While Courtney was an almost perfect mix of her half Hispanic, half Asian heritage, her mother was the true image of her pure Panamanian blood. Her eyes were bigger and not as slanted as her daughters's, her lips were fuller and her skin was a bit darker.

Mrs. Phan worked hard to mantain a perfect housewife front, and she seemed to have two faces within herself. One she presented to the inside of the house, to her children, and the other she presented to the outside world.

The first one was severe and take-charge, which was evident in her way of directing the younger children (not so much with Courtney, who had clearly outgrown her range of control); it was obvious she was the main authority in the house. But with Duncan she was all smiles, jokes and carefully practiced pleasantness.

She walked with her head held high and directed herself with meassured words, and it was clear to see she was the one Courtney had taken her sense of pride and duty after, though the decorum was more evident in her daughter.

With Duncan she was all smiles, jokes and carefully practiced pleasantness. She acted bashful and weak, obeying typical housewife behaviour, but it was clear she was the one who managed the household.

Courtney had three sisters: Justine, who was nineteen and currently spending the weekend at home frrom college, Elizabeth who was ten, and baby Rachel. She also had a brother called Jonah, who was inadvertently giving Duncan the laugh of his life.

He was a sturdy six-year-old who walked his imposing shirtless form around the house, looking down his nose at everything like he was the owner. He was the young, male, spitting image of his mother, with his inky black curls and dark skin that, along with his deep, deign ebony eyes, could have easily made him pass for an indigenous prince. The first time he had met Duncan, he had given him a very proper hand shake, all the while looking at him with a distrustful gaze.

The afternoon had gone by well enough, with Courtney's sisters and mother coming in turns to chat with him.

The next time he visited, her father was there.

Bao Quy Phan, Panama-born third generation factory worker of Vietnamese descent, hadn't seemed to mind Duncan either. This came as a surprise for him, since he had expected him to be the one not to approve of him. (By the way, seeking approval from two whole different individuals was extremely tiring. He didn't know how Courtney managed this lifestyle so effortlessly.)

But Mr. Phan had barely shaken his hand before going away to change out of his work clothes, then gone straight to the table to wait for dinner to be served. He had treated Duncan just like his wife had, as if he were just a friend of their daughter's staying for dinner rather than her boyfriend; but unlike with Sofía, Duncan hadn't seen the underhand study in the Dad's eyes. Actually, nothing showed in his face that told Duncan how he felt about him.

Mr. Phan wasn't like normal Asian people to Duncan. To begin with, he looked younger than he had expected. He had the slanted eyes and the slightly below average height; but his skin was tanned and wrinkled from a lifetime under the sun (not like the natural warm mocha color both Courtney and her mother displayed, but an out-of-place reddish color), and he was rather skinny, like he had gone through hunger earlier on in his life.

Going against the deign stance and strict gaze most Asians posessed, Mr. Phan sported a rather pitiful face. His eyebrows were constantly furrowed, and his eyes always widened when he looked at someone, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing; his scrawny frame was arched as if he was bowing his head in anticipation to a possible offense.

He acted as if family matters escaped him, and seeing this, Duncan finally relaxed. Before he knew it, it was dinner time.

Mrs. Phan and Courtney's sisters were in the kitchen getting the food ready, while the father, Jonah and Duncan were seated on the table, he next to Courtney who was tending to Rachel. He suspected that she had been given a tacit permission to stay not help in the kitchen because her boyfriend was there, and instead been given the lighter task of preparing the baby for dinner.

While the family mantained a macho facade, it was clearly the mother who controlled the house. It was obvious from the way she had very subtly (because Duncan was there, he suspected) asked her husband for his paycheck when he came back from work, and then asked him questions about his day in a way that it was obvious she wanted to have access to everything he had done and said.

It was also in the way Courtney hadn't seemed worried the moment she introduced him to her father. Duncan reflected all of this as Courtney's sisters chatted him up as they set the table –not that he wasn't paying attention. It's just that, whenever he did something that didn't absolutely require his full attention, his mind generally divided in two –or three- topics at a time.

Then dinner was ready, and everyone assembled at the table. Mrs. Phan with her flowery dress. Mr. Phan with his Pity Face at the head of the table. Justine with her asian features, goldish skin and boyish frame. Elizabeth, who looked a lot like Courtney, although her skin was a bit darker and she conserved her black hair. Prince Jonah next to Courtney next to Duncan and finally, Rachel in her mother's lap, since the family had no high chair.

Everything was well, until Mrs. Phan has a taste of the chicken salad she had prepared earlier. She took a bite, stopped, made a face, and paused as if thinking of something. "Honey," she said finally, snapping the attention of her husband, who was reading the paper.

"Yes?"

"Is this lettuce old?"

Mr. Phan looked up to his wife and paused. His eyes were vulnerable, as if he was afraid to have made a mistake. "No. I picked it up today," he replied catiously, as if questioning if that was what he was supossed to do.

His wife pursed her lips to one side, looking unconvinced. "Did you buy them from Marta's store?"

"Yes."

"Did you take them from the boxes at the back?"

"Yes. The ones from inside."

"Are you sure? Because the boxes at the front always have the bad harvest," she rebutted.

The man paused, doubting his memory. Duncan couldn't stop looking at him, even though in his section of the table another conversation was taking place. As he watched, a feeling of dread he couldn't quite place grew on his chest.

Mr. Phan's eyebrows were more furrowed than ever, and his eyes were wide. His wife's words weren't even rough, it was his reaction to then that shocked Duncan. He was actually gulping in fear at the prospect of having made a mistake.

"I think I took the ones from inside," he finally said.

Mrs. Phan stared at him searchingly for a long while. Meanwhile, her husband withered in fear at her ctitical gaze. Finally, she sighed and shook her head, "I think you grabbed the bad ones," she decided, shaking her head in utmost dissapointment and clicking her tongue once.

Mr. Phan immediately turned his attention back to the paper as if to numb the incident, trying to ignore the situation and hide the fact that his wife's disapproval distressed him. Duncan himself gulped.

Sofía didn't stop there. Throughout dinner, she kept making snide remarks, undemining her husband, poking at his pride with a bright nonchalant smile.

With each blow, Mr. Phan dug his nose deeper in the paper. He stood quiet through every attack; first he would shift slightly, then turn bright red, and finally ignore the affront completely.

Normally, Duncan would be laughing at a so obviously whipped guy. But now, in this particular situation, he all but trembled. He couldn't laugh if he wanted to; his throat was tight.

When the air got exceptionally tense, Justine, the female image of her father, would roll her eyes in exasperation; eager-to-please Elizabeth tensed up opening her eyes up wide and glancing at Duncan, hoping he wouldn't notice the embarrassing scene her parents were setting up. Courtney acted like she didn't notice anything, but she must have been acting.

All this made Duncan think that he was witnessing a fairly normal scene in the family, which only added to his trepidation.

By the time of dessert, Mr. Phan was so crouched over his paper and so abandoned to silence like a resented child, that Sofía couldn't ignore him any longer; his miserable presence was bringing down the air at the table and she, like a good hostess, obviously noticed.

She first smiled sweetly at him, though he wasn't looking at her. Then she grabbed his hand from under the table. Mr. Phan looked up and he smiled back, and for the first time since Duncan knew him, his face seemed to be clear of all worries. He smiled at his wife in happiness, and she smiled back one of her condescending smiles.

By this time Duncan was tapping his fingers nervously on the seat of his chair, and finding it hard to breathe.

Not too little after, Mrs. Phan pointed out to her husband that she had done something different to her hair, and how come he hadn't told her anything about it. The man had turned red and muttered something Duncan hadn't quite caught about there being guests.

She had chuckled, making him turn even redder, and turned to the baby in her lap with complicity, "Your daddy never pays me compliments."

And Duncan nearly choked on his drink.

Even after dinner was over and every other member of the family had gone off to their own thing, he was still replaying every scene in his head. He couldn't focus, even as Courtney beamed at how well things had turned out.

"…and you actually made Elizabeth laugh, that's a first," she commented as she attempted to slide in the armchair next to him. "And don't worry about Jonah. He's the same everytime one of us brings a boyfriend. I still remember when he met Justine's first boyfriend. Um, are you okay?"

Her question brought him back to the present. "Huh? Oh… yeah. Perfect," he told her with an unconvincing smile, as he circled her waist with his arms and pulled her in the chair.

She hadn't bought it, but had assumed he was just stressed; she knew it wasn't easy for him to behave decently in front of people for so long. She had let it slide.

And for hours, and even days later, Duncan wasn't able to explain to a concerned Courtney why he seemed so distracted and distant.

Duncan had seen more than a a sucession of awkward family situations that night. He had seen his future.

That was the point where, as far as Duncan was concerned, all the bad had started. After getting over the initial shock of seeing himself fast-forwarded twenty years into the future, Duncan had promised to himself to stop the process of becoming like Mr. Phan before it was too late.

Duncan couldn't deny that with time, her sass which had attracted him so much to her in the past had started to annoy him more than anything else, and he had only the moments in which she was completely sweet and open with him to look forward to. In order to make the times where she lashed out at him shorter and more insignificant, he had begun to just do what she asked him to.

…He was only thankful now that he had realized soon enough where that course of action could potentially lead to.

What he didn't know was that mere months later, he was in for the greatest fall of his life— in more than one way.

She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness.

-Oscar Wilde

But when Duncan finally returned to Total Drama World Tour, he was a changed person.

That was explainable once you knew that while he was on the run, he had watched himself in Total Drama Action for the first time. Before he hadn't seen a point to it –he had been there, and he didn't feel like reliving the horrible challenges Chris had put them through. But while he was hiding from the host and the authorities he had movilized, he had made a point of watching the show to see what was said about him. In doing so, he had caught some reruns of Total Drama Action.

It was then that he had seen it.

Himself, submitting to Courtney's will. Obeying her every whim. Looking constricted whenever he did something that bothered her, because he knew he was in for an earful. Keeping his mouth shut during her rants. Fearing her.

Duncan was had watched the screen and not recognized himself. In his head, those scenes were completely different.

In his memory, he hadn't had that puny, resigned expression. He hadn't stuttered pathetically like that. And he certaintly didn't remember the infuriating looks of pity from the other castmates. The way he remembered it, he had just been too tired, both from the night skipped and of her ranting, to argue with her, especially knowing it would just escalate from there.

But in the screen, all he could see was Courtney's parents.

Duncan had thought he could stop the process of becoming like Mr. Phan. But after seeing that on the screen… that spineless, puny, weak boy on the screen… he realized it was already done.

That time at the park when she had caught him looking at another girl, and ranted loudly until she got him to apologize; and that other time at the market, when they were running errands and he wanted to pick up a snack that she immediately claimed was bad for him… and he had frowned and put it back on the rack—he thought he was just giving in to preserve the peace, but every single person looking on would see the scene for what it really was—

A whipped guy. A burned-out slave, a weakling in punk's clothing.

The embarrassment is what came first. Well, it seemed like when his friends had mocked him –endlessly, proddingly, obnoxiously- about the way he had acted, it hadn't been just for the heck of it, they had been trying to warn him.

Next came was desperation. What he was never able to stand up to her again? What if he was doomed to stand there and take it while she all but pulled his ear?

And lastly came the rage. Courtney had turned him into this. This… whipped idiot, this poor excuse of a man.

But all that was going to change. Duncan was done being her little puppet. He was going to fight her. He was done following Mr. Suen's footsteps.

As Duncan set foot on the plane, he had one mission in mind: getting back the control of his life.

No matter what it took.

He hadn't been back for fifteen minutes, and his girlfriend was already on his case.

"How could you think it was o-kay to just—leave like that?" Courtney demanded heatedly, as Duncan looked away, trying to keep his frustration inside his form and not lash out. Stop talking, stop talking, just goddamn stop talking.

"Because it was not! Ugh!" she looked up to the sky as she ranted like there was no tomorrow. She then narrowed her black eyes at him. "Abandon me again, and it will not be pretty!" She put her hands on her hips, while he just looked at her with deep resentment. Oh, the things he would say to her, if he could just open his damn mouth…

She did this in purpose, didn't she? She knew how much it riled him up that she ordered him around, and she did it just to see him frustrated, subjected and helpless. She wanted to be just like her mommy dearest when she grew up. He couldn't for the life of him remember why he saw her sass and talk-back quality as attractive in the first place. Courtney ranted on about the importance of faithfullness and communication.

What communication? He wanted to smash her head against a wall.

"Now," he was surprised to see her suddenly smile sweetly, "get over here you big lug!" She closed in for a hug, and Duncan put her arms around her, because that was what she wanted.

The tender gesture took him off-guard— or it would have, if Gwen hadn't walked in on them in that moment. Her expressionless eyes locked into the little love scene in front of her, and Duncan instantly smiled at her.

"I'm not really mad, I just… missed you," Courtney said, still hugging him, and as she did, Duncan thought he saw a hint of depression in Gwen's eyes, as she looked at him as if saying, why are you holding my gaze and making me watch this?

Duncan supressed a smirk and, olympically passing over the small miracle of Courtney opening up to him like she just had, kept his eyes locked on Gwen's as he spoke,

"Every time I ran from the cops, I thought of you."

He saw the Goth's eyes winden and do a double take. He practically saw her heart jumping to her throat, when she realized he was looking straight at her. She turned and promptly walked away, made a bundle of nerves, and Duncan let his face relax into a satisfied smirk.

Pherhaps it was the excitement of a crime cleanly executed, or pherhaps it was the fact he felt he had found the perfect way to get back the control of his life… but he felt more alive than he had in a long time.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Courtney.

Yep. Payback was a bitch.

For weeks after, Duncan had the best time of his life juggling his girlfriend and his other girl on the same plane. He was getting a kick out of hurting Courtney without her knowing; laughing at her in his mind whenever she hugged him or kissed him, thinking he was all hers. After everything.

Gwen, meanwhile, was a bundle of nerves; she constantly looked like she would have a nervous breakdown any moment. People were starting to pick up on it.

And it wouldn't be long before they discovered the whole thing.

Duncan could see it all perfectly. He could see everything, from what was going through Gwen's head, to Courtney's reaction, to the outcome of all of this. He could still see things objectively because his mind wasn't fogged by love.

As he swore it would never be again.

If somewhere I slipped and wrote the name 'Suen'... I meant 'Phan.' I changed my mind about the last name along the way.

Anyway, this is my theory of what happened with Duncan that made him act like he did u.u

~The Lighthouse