What was I Thinking?

Chapter 3

Ocean's 8… or 9

The morning when I was going back into the game was hot and muggy.

Not many people came to see me off. Believe or not, I'm not really that popular. Crazy right? Plus, most off the other ex contestants either didn't give a damn, or were jealous. But I refused to let the lack of people rooting for me get me down. Besides, Bridgette was there, and she was the only one that really mattered.

Geoff, DJ, and Trent were standing outside the limo also, but I doubted that they were there for me. Geoff probably just wanted an interview for the next aftermath in which he could twist my words and make me look like a total moron. DJ was obviously there just because he's too damn nice not to be there. And Trent? Well, odds are Trent was there to give me ideas on how to kill Duncan. Since we were both under the impression that Duncan and Gwen were cheating on us, Trent wasn't Duncan's biggest fan.

But like I said, none of the guys were there for me; they all had their own motives. You might think I look for the worst in people. I think I'm a realist.

Still, motives or not, there we were out on the street next to the set, an old rickety limousine parked in front of us. I opened the limo's rusty door slowly to make sure it didn't fall off, and thrust my suit case inside. Spinning on my heel, I then about-faced to say my goodbyes.

"Bye DJ." I gave him a small smile and a little wave.

"Good luck Courtney," he grinned, "And could you tell my team I'm sorry?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't stop smiling, "Sure."

I walked up to Trent, who was next in the line of farewells. "Trent." I gave him a small nod.

"Later." A mischievous glint appeared in his emerald eyes, "By the way, if Duncan gives you any crap, you should punch him out. And if he doesn't listen to that, hit him another 8 times."

I chuckled, "Sure thing."

"So Courtney," Geoff pulled out a tape recorded and a sly smirk, "what are your thoughts on-"

"No comment." I said coolly and walked past him to Bridgette. Try turning that against me Captain Hollywood!

Bridgette gave Geoff a scowl and turned to me. "Good luck Court, I'll be rooting for you!" she held up a poster covered in glitter and smiley faces. In large purple bubble letters it read 'TEAM COURTNEY!'

"Awww!" I cooed and wrapped my arms around her, "That's so sweet! I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." She returned my hug, "Win this for me Court! Or at least try your best."

I returned my arms to my sides and grinned, "Don't worry, I'll win it. Mark my words.

I turned back towards the old limo and stepped inside. The seats looked and felt like they might have once been comfortable, but now the leather was cracked and the cushions were hard from being sat on a few too many times. A smell of bile and nicotine hung in the stale air, suggesting that the "fancy" car was once owned by a chain smoking bulimic. I wouldn't be surprised. Figures that Chris would be cheap enough to buy a car in this condition to save a buck.

The door's lock was broken, so it required two slams to get it shut. Once I was safely inside, the engine sputtered and turned on. I didn't bother looking to see who the driver was, knowing Chris it was probably Chef or that intern. His name was Billy or something… I forget.

As the car began to move forward, thick exhaust and fumes flew out of the tailpipe, nearly choking the line of teens watching me leave. I noticed Bridgette shouting to me.

Opening the window to understand her yells, I heard her shout, "Seize *cough* the *cough* day! *cough cough cough*" After finishing her message, she hunched over clutching her stomach, wheezing and choking on the foul air.

Concerned, I stuck my head out the window to make sure she was ok, and she gave me a small thumbs up to signal she was fine. I let out a sigh of relief and settled back in my seat for the drive.

TDA, here I come.

. . .

The drive to the old abandoned film set was long, but not relaxing. My head was filled with strategies, ways to win this season and knock everyone else out of the water. I wouldn't lose this time, I just wouldn't.

I was also concerned about how the other contestants might react to me joining the season. Would they be happy to see me? Would they resent me for coming in so late? I suspected the latter.

But more importantly, how would Duncan react to me? I was mad at him, that's for sure, and didn't want much to do with him, but I did still sort of care for him. Would he be happy to see me? Would he tell me that Gwen meant nothing to him and beg for my forgiveness? Or… Would he tell me he likes Gwen now and that I was dead to him and humiliate me on international TV? Ok that probably wouldn't happen, but anything's possible.

I let out a frustrated sigh and tried to clear my head. Glancing out the window, I noticed something familiar. A broken stop sign. We'd driven past a few times. We were driving in circles. Suddenly it hit me. This was a trick, to make it seem like we were farther from the set of TDA than we thought. Anger welled up in my stomach. I was this close to the game the whole time? I probably could have walked there!

The Chef/Billy driver made a stomach turning sharp turn and drove down a dock. He stopped next to a bunch of buildings that I assumed were parts of the set. He exited the driver's seat, finally giving away his anonymity, showing he was the intern.

Billy walked to my door and pulled the handle roughly. It didn't budge. He then kicked it with his left sandal and the door opened quickly, dropping paint and rust chippings as it swung.

I raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say a word. It's better not to talk to those intern types, they never last long.

He grabbed my bags and started towards the buildings, gesturing for me to follow. We walked in awkward silence for a minute or two until he spoke, "So, how did you get back on the show anyway?"

"Well, I sued the show a couple of times but Chris always won," he nodded for me to continue, "and, you're not going to believe this but Chris put me back on. Apparently Chris begged for the court's verdict to be changed, and they actually did it! Just proves how famous people get whatever they want."

Billy turned to me suddenly, "Seriously, he just told you you're back on? No strings attached?"

"Mmmhmm." I nodded and gave a small smile.

He looked at me with what seemed like worry and pity. This bothered me. "What?" I asked putting a hand on my hip.

Billy was somewhat taller than me so he needed to bend down in order to look me in the eye. "Never. Trust. Chris." His tone was ominous.

"I don't, he just-"

He cut me off. "Never trust him. Watch him like a hawk. He'll do anything to turn them against you. Anything."

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me with that sad/pity expression that told me even if he knew something I didn't, he couldn't tell me. "Just-just watch him okay?"

"Sure, whatever. All I know is that I'm going to win this. Whatever it takes, I'll win." I closed my eyes and nodded my head shortly, determination showing in my voice.

The mysterious intern looked more worried than ever. "Don't become so obsessed with winning that you lose yourself. He," he looked around suspiciously and lowered his voice, "He can use that."

This was growing tiresome. "Look, if you have something to say to me just spit it out. It's like you're talking in code!"

He said nothing.

. . .

Billy and I didn't talk for the rest of the walk to Chris's on set office. It was just as well, I didn't need his obvious insanity throwing me off my A game. It was a challenge day after all.

When we reached the room he gave me a small nod and headed towards the trailers with my bags. I assumed he'd unpack my stuff and get me settled in.

I turned to the door and took a deep breath before touching the knob. The cool metal sent shivers up my arm. I found the door to be unlocked and walked in, head held high.

The office was almost identical to the one at the loser's hotel, except this one included a movie director style beret and sunglasses, which were currently on everyone's favorite narcissist. Chris gave me his signature smile and stood up to greet me.

"Courtney," Chris said in his usual skater drawl, "Nice to have you here in our humble studio."

I looked at the Chris covered walls and scrunched my nose up in distaste. "Yeah. Humble."

He chuckled and sat back down, motioning for me to sit across from him. "So Courtney, how do you feel about being back in the game?"

I raised my eyebrows in annoyance at his stupidity, "I don't know, I just got here. It's okay I guess?"

Chris's automatic smile grew. "Good. And it'll keep being okay as long as you tell no one that I actually won the lawsuit. And you must act like you won in a landslide."

Okay? Where is he going with this?

I nodded slowly. "Sure, but why?"

"Because I said so." He smirked, "Now get over to studio 12. An intern will be waiting there for you with instructions."

. . .

The blond wig plopped upon my chocolate locks felt itchy and uncomfortable. The StarStalker magazine Billy handed me was unreadable. Four words: Chris Mclain Special Issue. I threw it to the ground and crossed my arms impatiently. Why weren't they here yet! How long does it take to pick a lock and-

I heard footsteps. Voices. I recognized some of the voices to belong to Chris, Heather, Harold, and… Duncan? Chris said something about their team getting to talk to the teller first. This was my cue. I ran over to the counter and turned my back to them so they couldn't see my face. I pretended to read the script Chris gave me.

"Afternoon ma'am, that's a great set of legs you got there," Duncan said in his usual smug tone. I prickled a little at that comment. He was flirting with me but he didn't know who I was. Bad move Dunky.

"But right now I'd like to focus on those beautiful hands of yours." He continued, "I need them to start filling this bag up with cash."

"Anything else I can do for you today," I spun around to face him, "Duncan?"

His eyes widened at the sight of me and he… he kinda… sorta… screamed and passed out.

Oh this is so not going like I hoped it would.

. . .

"Teams, it is my honor? To report that Courtney is back in the game." Chris read the speech I prepared for him to say if I had won the lawsuit incredulously. I took his tone with a grain of salt and waved to the other contestants, primarily Duncan. He responded to me with a somewhat freaked out expression.

"And we're all exceedingly happy about it." he continued.

"She got voted out fair and square!" Heather argued. I smirked, like she wouldn't have done the same thing.

"Sorry Heather, but myself and the law firm of Fleckman, Fleckmann, Cohen, and Grouse beg to differ. We filed a wrongful dismissal lawsuit against the producers." I paused, to add effect, "And won!"

Harold mumbled something to Duncan and he, in turn, pushed him over. I thought nothing of it.

"So Courtney since you were the bank teller in the challenge, great job by the way," he winked at me and I nodded proudly, "You get to decide what team deserves first prize, your bag of loot."

He tossed me the little brown sack and I caught it with ease. I was on the CIT softball team, just so you know.

Smiling softly, I said, "The choice is obvious, it's Duncan." I then blushed at my words and doubled back saying, "I mean the Gaffers, because they were the only ones that managed to get to my wicket."

Duncan cautiously walked up to me and I handed him the loot with a grin, "Congratulations."

"Thank you?" he stammered in a high pitched voice. His face was that of terror and confusion. NOT a good sign.

Heather made a crack about having seen manlier men trying on women's shoes. For once, I agree.

"So that means, The Killer Grips win second prize!" he waved his hand over the loser team. They didn't seem amused.

Justin's blemish-free forehead crinkled in confusion. "What's second prize?"

"Courtney!" Chris shouted and my eyes widened. "For the rest of the game!" The Killer Grips eyes widened. "Or, until she's eliminated!" I gasped in shock.

ME! SECOND PRIZE!

*Confessional*

I sat in the makeup confessional for the first time. It smelt of cheap perfume that I assumed to be Lindsay's. Skank. But I couldn't think of her right now. I was too busy focusing on the fact that I was thought of as a consolation prize. "Those Total Drama Dirtbags have some nerve making me second place." I shouted angrily and pulled out my cell phone, "They will definitely be hearing from my lawyer… again!"

*Confessional*

Chris smirked and in his usual 'I'm gonna torture you kids now' tone said, "So, Grips Gaffers, your getaway cars are waiting. And you better get a move on before the cops arrive." He yelled suddenly, "THAT MEANS GO!"

We all started running.

. . .

When our panting crowd of teenagers arrived at the top of the hill, Justin voiced our thoughts.

"What's allthis junk?"

If Justin had ever been right, that would be the time. Piled in front of us was red and green scrap metal, hardly resembling car parts. As we ran I had heard some of the other contestants wondering what fancy vehicles we would get for our getaway race. This crap was NOT fancy.

As if mocking us with what we could have had, Chris pulled up next to us in a fancy red sports car. "These are your getaway cars, just waiting to be assembled!"

"That is so not hot." Heather observed and, once again, I agree with her.

Chris smiled with sick glee at her complaints. "If the vehicles were ready to go it wouldn't be much of a challenge, now would it?"

We all groaned in response. The sadist laughed and drove away leaving a cloud of exhaust, only to crash in to a tree a few meters away.

"AW CRAP!"

. . .

While Owen, Lindsay, and Beth had gone off to do something stupid Justin and I were left to assemble our 'car'. Technically, I was the only one working. Justin was just making eyes at himself in a handheld mirror like some sort of moron.

I glanced at the other team's go cart. Due to Duncan's knowledge of mechanics it was almost done. They were making small talk and, for once, not arguing. I credited that fact to Leshawna being gone, without her to fight with Heather the bitch was a lot more mellow.

I noticed Justin eying them and got even more annoyed than I already was. "Ignore the sideshow and start putting together the chasse!" I roughly shoved a piece of metal at him.

"Is there something I can do where I won't get grease on my epidermis?"

I stared at him blankly, waiting for a 'Haha just kidding' or something along the lines of that. I got none.

I deadpanned. "You're kidding me right?"

He smirked and posed, showing off the palms of his hands. "Hand modeling was one of the things that helped put me on the map."

"Obviously, that was the map of Uselessville! How did I get stuck over here!" I groaned and looked around, "Where are the others anyway!"

Justin shrugged, "I dunno. But you had better finish this car quick. They're almost done."

Glancing at the other team I felt despair my stomach in knots. We were way behind the Gaffers. I dropped to my knees and began rummaging through the pile of metal and putting things together that seemed to fit.

"Justin," I mumbled wearily, "Do you think you could try to help?"

The model flashed his pearly whites and struck a heroic pose. "I'll help by staying beautiful."

I moaned and put my head in my hands. "We're doomed."

. . .

It was hopeless. No matter how hard I tried, the pieces just wouldn't fit together! I had been working hard for what seemed like hours, I was covered in sweat and grease, but it seemed like I had gotten nothing accomplished.

An engine revved and I saw the Gaffer's go cart speed past me. It stopped a few meters away from me and Duncan called "Hey Courtney! Maybe you'll get to see more than just the back of me when the teams merge!"

Angry, frustrated, and waaay too tired to realize what he meant by that, I glanced at Justin (who was making pouty faces at himself in the mirror) and shouted back, "At this point… I'd take it!"

Heather told Duncan something I couldn't hear over their engine, and they sped off.

I clenched my fists and finally let me anger out. "We needed to be starting this challenge yesterday! Where are our wheels! Where is our team!" Suddenly, some higher power answered my plea in the form of a girl's voice with a heavy lisp.

"Here we are!" Beth called, walking towards Mr. Model and me with Lindsay and Owen at her sides.

"We had to rewire his jaw with my thpare hair elathticth. But that'th the good newth." She explained.

A worried look overcame my face. "Wh-what's the bad?" I asked cautiously, almost afraid of what her answer might be.

Lindsay pulled a bent set of wheels out from behind Owen. "These are kind of toast."

"Toast!" Owen perked up happily and Beth responded by slapping him in the face.

I took a deep breath and decided that I wouldn't give up yet. "No wheels does not mean it's over for us! We are going to have to improvise!"

"How?" my so called teammates asked in unison.

I looked at my team and back at the scrap metal, unsure myself of what to do. Then, inspiration struck. I picked up the metal outline of the car I had manage to put together.

"Owen!" I shouted, "You're strong, you take the back! Beth, take up the rear with Owen! Justin, you get the middle! Lindsay, you go before him!"

"Where will you go?" She cocked her head to the side, her large blue eyes filled with confusion.

I smirked, determination in my eyes. "I'll lead the team. Obviously."

. . .

Momentum building with every step, we thundered down the hill.

"Faster you deadbeats!" I screeched angrily, "These aren't called Gaffers and the Slackers!"

Okay… that was a little mean. But in my defense, people work better when their coached. And I wasn't yelling, I was… coaching.

"Now move! MUSH! MUSH!"

"Mush? We're not thled dogs!" Beth shouted in defense of her team.

"Of course you aren't! If you were, this one" I gestured to myself, "would have eaten you!"

Maybe that was a little harsh. But you would have been mad too if you were put on this team of idiots!

. . .

Just when I thought we had no chance, the Gaffers car stalled. Success!

"VROOOM!" I shouted triumphantly as we ran past the panicking team.

I knew I could win! I thought, Even on a team of complete duds!

"FASTER! FASTER!" I commanded as we approached the finish line.

Then… it happened. I don't know how, but someone slipped, knocking all of us down with them.

"AGH!" I screamed in despair and frustration, "I WILL NOT BE SECOND PLACE!"

"Wanna bet? Chris said with a smirk as The Screaming Gaffers crossed the finish line.

I growled in fury. We lost! We about to win, and we lost. And it's obvious who's going home. Me. I mean seriously, I'm the biggest threat. I resisted the urge to scream at the sky, "WHY DO YOU HATE ME!"

. . .

After digging myself and my team out of the rubble I went into the washrooms to take a long shower. That always calmed my nerves. I changed back into my cloths and went to the girl's trailer to talk to my female teammates. We needed to discuss the vote.

As I came along side the trailer I peeked in the window to make sure it was just the Grips girls. Sure enough, Lindsay and Beth were sitting on their bunks discussing something. They looked angry. I figured they were talking about me, my sudden (and slightly unfair) return, and my taking charge of the team. I sighed, not really caring if I had their affections or not. Truth be told, I never really liked either of them. Lindsay was a complete moron, a bottle blond who'd probably sleep with the entire math club if they said they'd do her homework for a month. And Beth? Well, in a nutshell, the girl was completely pathetic.

Swallowing my bad feelings towards the two, I entered the domicile with a friendly smile on my face.

"Hey Lindsay, Beth." I tried to sound as nice as possible.

They looked up simultaneously and gave me small scowls, "Oh, hi Courtney."

Making sure I kept on my smile, I sat down on a nearby bunk and said, "So, guys could I talk to you about something?"

Lindsay crinkled her blond eyebrows in confusion, "What?"

I suddenly got serious. "The elimination."

"Oh, ok I gueth." Beth mumbled, a confused and suspicious look growing on her plain face.

"I think," I started cautiously, "Owen should go."

"What!" Lindsay half shouted, "Why! He's so nice. What do you have against Owen!"

I resisted the urge to face palm. "I don't have anything against Owen, Lindsay! And yes, he's nice but he lost us the challenge!"

"No he didn't!" Lindsay protested.

"Uh, yeah he did! He broke the wheels and chased you guys off. I was the only one even trying to put together the car!"

"Well I gueth you're not thuprithed. Like you thaid, we're a team of dudth." Beth sneered, and angry tone implying that I might have said something I shouldn't have.

My cheeks blushed crimson. "Oh… I said that out loud? Sorry guys, I er- didn't mean it?"

Lindsay rolled her baby blues and scoffed. "Whatevs. I think me and Beth will decide who's leaving on our own."

"Fine." I let out an annoyed 'hmmph' and stormed out.

Nice job on making allies Courtney, niiiice job.

. . .

Elimination time.

I walked slowly to the Guilded Chris Award Ceremony, suspecting it would be the only one would experience. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm.

"Dun- Chris."

"You almost called me Duncan." The host smirked.

I scowled at him. "Force of habit."

He smiled and threw his hands up in a 'TADA' sort of way. "Good news! You can't be eliminated tonight!"

I blinked. "Seriously? Because you aren't exactly trustworthy."

"Seriously," he nodded, "We're not gonna let you go that easy."

"Oh, that's great!" I clapped my hands in approval.

"Alright," Chris started, "But you have to pretend the lawsuit got you this. Don't tell anyone what I told you here."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

What was Chris hiding? Probably something useless. Something that wouldn't affect me at all…

. . .

I couldn't help but look smug as Chris rambled to my team about how they couldn't vote me off and his massage budget. We all began to vote. I clicked the Owen button without thinking twice. Sorry big guy, nothing personal. When we all finished deciding who would be leaving, Chef handed the vote to Chris.

He grinned, and in a very spokesman-like voice said, "And the Gilded Chris Awards go to Beth, Lindsay, Justin-" he paused to look at the sheet of paper and frowned, "Why do I have four votes to boot out Courtney when I specifically said you couldn't!"

Justin shrugged, "I guess we couldn't help ourselves."

"No matter what," Lindsay started, "My finger would only press the Courtney button."

I wasn't as insulted by their comments as I was embarrassed. THIS is the team I have to represent! Morons.

Chris gestured toward me, "Well, that leaves us with one vote to count!"

"Owen," I smirked at my gasping team, "You've been eliminated."

I rolled my eyes as my teammates yelled about how unfair Owen's elimination was. It's a game show people, play the game. Surprise then took the place of my annoyance when they began to chant for Owen to make a speech.

"He lost the game for us, guys. Hello?" I waved my hand in an attempt to stop their foolishness. Then again, that was as impossible as stopping a train with a single piece of paper.

"Anything in your contract that'll stop him from speaking?" Chris asked in annoyance.

I struggled to remember my contract, "Um, no... but-"

"Then... a little light for my friend here." A spotlight shone on Owen who had suddenly changed into a tuxedo without anyone noticing. (Weird much?)

I slinked away from the scene as Owen began to thank people. I wasn't welcome there, and if I was I didn't want to be. I didn't need friends. I needed to win.

. . .

I didn't go back to the trailers immediately. I walked about the film lot, taking in the scenery. Maybe I was just exhausted, but it looked beautiful in a sense. I pulled out my phone to check the time. 10:00 pm.

"I should head back," I mumbled to no one in particular.

After walking a few steps I felt someone grab my arm. Second time today huh?

"Chri- Duncan!"

He raised an eyebrow, "You almost called me Chris."

"Force of habit."

"Sooooo…" he drawled, "You're back."

"Mmm hmm." I smirked and flipped my hair, "Did you miss me?"

Duncan returned my smirk, "Maybe I did…" He leaned in to kiss me.

Oh no, you're not getting me that easy.

I pushed him away from me and put my hands on my hips, "Don't touch me. And stop with the sexual innuendo."

His unnaturally teal eyes widened at both my passing up the kiss and my comment about sexual innuendo. "What?"

"Before," I elaborated, "You said 'Maybe you'll get to see more than just the back of me when the teams merge.'"

"I got that!" he snapped, "I meant the kiss thing!"

"Our relationship is over. You made that very clear when you had a fling with Gwen." I tried to sound like I didn't care. That was hard.

He stared at me, blinking before shouting, "Oh. My. God. I don't like Gwen! Why does everyone think we have a thing for each other!"

"Stop playing innocent!" I snapped, "When you're ready to apologize, talk to me."

I walked away. I cried. But only when he couldn't see me.

. . .

Back in the trailer, I found myself faced with four girls, angry and full of questions.

"Girl, you back?" Leshawna asked incredulously.

I nodded.

"Well girl I'm gonna be honest, that ain't fair. You can't just come into the game halfway through!"

I shrugged, "If I had my way I would have been back when it first started.

"How did your lawyers win and not mine! I lost my suit in the first season!" Heather shouted.

I rolled my eyes, "I've got better lawyers." This was a lie, the producers had better lawyers.

"How could you vote off Owen!" Lindsay and Beth shouted in unison.

This crap again?

"He lost the challenge for us." I got closer to both of them, "And by the way, if you guys actually voted for someone who wasn't me, Owen might have stayed and someone more deserving might have gone home!"

"The only one who detherved to go home," Beth gulped, "Wath you!"

Growling in anger, I got even closer to the nerdy girl so that our noses were practically touching. "Listen to me and listen well. It's your own fault that Owen left. Stop blaming me. We're teammates, and like it or not, we have to work together. Don't mess with me, I won't mess with you. Got it!"

She nodded.

I straightened up back to my height. "Good."

I lied down in my bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

"Goodnight."

Bitches.

AN:

Me: SO. FUCKING. LONG. PANT COUGH WHEEZE. And BTW I tried to write Beth's lisp. If you cant understand it then just ask me J

I'm trying to get my 2nd fav show Supernatural more viewers so… epic Dean and Sam quote!

Sam: Bon Jovi?

Dean: Hey, Bon Jovi has been known to rock, on occasion.

XD EPIC! Now look it up.