"Are you sure they consented to this?" Don asked Blaineley nervously, as they both overlooked an intern typing furiously away on a laptop.

The two hosts were in a dark, secluded room where one could only imagine some sort of shady behaviour occurring inside it. While not extremely scandalous, you could argue that the stalking that was occurring in this room was definitely not the most ethical.

"Oh shut up Don, they're all at least eighteen! They're legal by now," Blaineley snapped back, her eyes narrowing in on the screen. "Besides, their applications didn't give nearly enough information."

Don sighed, squinting at the screen as well. "I don't know, this just doesn't feel right."

"It's the internet baby, and they want to be stars. This is like literally what they're signing up for," Blaineley defended her actions even more. After all, it was her ingenious idea at the beginning to stalk security cameras to see their potential cast in action. Blainely had a flair for the dramatics after all, and she knew that her choices would take this show far higher than whatever 'spin-off' Chris was recording. She had to select the perfect cast though for her plan to take off.

Don was understandably a little more hesitant to start off their show with a stalking scandal. When he said he wanted to reintroduce himself to the world, he wasn't exactly envisioning a prison sentence. He could imagine the headline 'Former host turned stalker. The story of Don Burgun.' He shuddered slightly, getting lost in his own thoughts, only being warped back to reality by an 'A-HA!' from Blaineley.

As he focussed on the screen himself, he could see what Blaineley was cheering about. The unnamed intern, with his degree in computer science, had managed to display eight surveillance cameras that had their eyes on the eight contestants they had so far chosen for this new season. Although impressed, Don was dreadful about the legal trouble they could get into and made a mental note to blame Blaineley for all the casting drama they'd be faced with.

Meanwhile, the hostess herself was practically foaming at the mouth and seeing the cameras narrow in on eight unsuspecting men and women. She made a mental note to herself to claim the perfect casting selection credit for herself, because as far as she was concerned, Don had spent most of the time talking her out of this practical and innovative idea.

"Don, are you ready to rumble?" She asked, flicking her hair back and grinning at the host with a deadly smirk on her face.

Don, exasperated, threw his hands up in defeat and gave Blaineley a slight nod. With a devilish glint in her eyes, she clicked one of the rectangles of the eight characters and turned up the sound on the computer.

The scene Blaineley had clicked into seemed to be presented at some sort of club or bar. Loud pop music pounded through speakers, and while the volume was piercing, the vibes were immaculate. There were women and men on the dance floor, grinding off each other and dancing with each other. Slobbery kisses were being planted everywhere, while one man swiftly made his way through the crowds, diving through people expertly as if he'd been doing this his whole life.

He scoffed, dusting off the blonde hairs left on his navy dress shirt from the girl he was talking to. See, Drew Hanson may not be of the American legal age yet, but working as a singer in this club has always gained him an easy drink or two from way too drunk customers willing to throw their cash at him. He'd been doing it long enough using a fake ID to buy himself cigarettes, he wasn't surprised when it had worked this nightclub, and with the traction that he brought in through his gigs, he knew that that club couldn't afford to lose him.

He made his way out to the open smoking area and released the breath he had been holding in while traversing the dancefloor. He pulled out the box, carefully selecting a rollie and flicking a match to light it up. Inhaling a deep puff of smoke, he let it settle in his lungs for a second before allowing it to escape his body.

Drew grabbed his phone from the pocket of his grey faded jeans, looking over three messages in his inbox. He sighed, deleting one message instantly after reading the name of the sender, and focussed his attention on one from his mother.

"Andrew, there seems to be a letter for you," he read out loud, a small bit puzzled. Who'd be sending him a letter in this day and age? As hard as he racked his brain, he could not think of any possible answer. Drew simply shrugged it off and moved on to the last message.

"Star potential is what we see in you," He read out, the confusion soon being morphed into glee. "Of course, they had to accept me, I mean have you seen me," He laughed to himself, catching a glimpse of himself in a reflective window. His dark brown was swept back over his head, and with his muscular and tall, tanned figure, it was clear that he was undeniably attractive. Some might say a bit of a douche, but he digressed.

He chuckled, plopping his phone back into his pocket, and taking the last drag of his cigarette. He dropped the remainder to the flow, stomping on it to stub it out before making his way back into the nightclub. Ducking and diving through people again, he gestured at the DJ to cut the track.

The DJ abided, not yet over the last time he attempted to defy Drew. The smooth talker himself had grabbed hold of the microphone at the centre stage once again, purring towards the crowd.

"This is Drew Hanson, ready with another track. Let's make it a blast, as it could be the last one you get for free," He said, hyping up the crowd with his sly demeanour.

"Step, one, two, step, one, two," A prim and proper voice could be heard commanding a ballet room. The ballet teacher was exasperated, to say the least with the teaching of this class. It was one of the worst groups she had seen by far, with them having a severe inability to manage to tell their left from right. No matter how much of her time and effort she put into these students, they always ended up on the floor in a tangled mess. Was it her? Was she the problem?

One woman dove from the cluster of feet and legs sprawled out on the floor, and she perfectly landed on the tip of her toes. She extended, her heels extending sharply outwards as she gracefully pirouetted on the spot, lost in her own thoughts. Her black hair which usually fell in an asymmetrical bob was tied up into a sharp bun for her training, the only colour added being a few silver highlights streaking through her hair. She was literally dancing circles around the other girls.

Ms Juniper sighed in relief, knowing that she at least had one successful student in her class of losers. Yuki Burizādo, her pride and joy. She knew that that girl had what it took to become a star one day, and she was ever so grateful to have been able to pave the way for that child. She hurriedly clapped her hands, dismissing the class, keeping her eye on Yuki.

The class grumbled and groaned about how advanced the class was for what they deemed as a beginner's course. Yet Yuki had no complaints. Her porcelain skin dripped with sweat, as she reminded herself of her end goal. To be just like her mother. She already found it difficult enough to train with these amateurs, due to her mother not being willing to let her take part in the ballet classes she ran. It wasn't her fault Yuki was born under her!

Yuki quickly took off her recital outfit, switching to her more comfortable black jeans and purple blouse. She laughed to herself, always amused at how different she must look at practice, all dolled up in pink with her hair done up, in comparison to how she normally strolls around. She pulled on her black leather jacket and shook her hair loose from its bun, effortlessly rocking the more edgy style.

"Yuki, can I have a word with you?" A familiar voice rang out, as Yuki grabbed her purse to meet up with her ballet teacher.

"Yes, Ms Juniper? What're your regards? Don't tell me my poise was sloppy," Yuki asked, slightly dreading if she wasn't as much of a belladonna as she believed was.

"Nothing of the sort Yuki," Ms Juniper reassured, looking at the young Japanese girl up and down and shedding a tear. "I'm afraid our journey together is coming to a halt."

"What are you saying?" Yuki asked, puzzled at what she could be on about. Maybe she had gotten recruited by a more senior company. She could only hope.

"Your mother wanted me to give you this letter." Ms Juniper continued, handing it over. "I believe your journey to stardom starts sooner than any of us anticipated,"

With a grin that could not be contained, Yuki let out a laugh. "Oh they better be ready for this primadonna," she cheered, wrapping Ms Juniper into a hug. The ballet teacher couldn't keep her tears at bay anymore, unleashing them all upon the ballerina's shoulder.

A woman could be seen coughing from a splutter of smoke. Vapour swooshed around her, with synth wave lights cutting through the dust with laser-point accuracy. A helmet crashed to the floor, as she frantically hit a button, causing the opening of the garage door she was practising behind.

"Note to self, I need a bigger studio," Jessica Quinn choked out, shaking the dust and debris out of her unruly black hair. Her black complexion was covered in soot and she was very disorientated and puzzled at what went wrong.

"If only Gramps was here," She muttered out dejectedly, knowing that her grandfather, whose legacy was what she wished to follow, would've perfected the trick rather simply, with half of the chaos that was occurring behind her. He wasn't dead mind you, just not present at the moment although as far as Jess was concerned, he was on a different planet (a solid ten-minute walk).

As the smoke cleared out of the garage, she looked at the mess that was surrounding her and let out a dejected sigh. Jessica wandered back into her workshop to aim to continue perfecting the trick, although she couldn't lie and say she wasn't feeling a little lost. She was the illusion master, so what was stopping her from mastering this trick?

Jess was slumping her way back to the station she was working at, but before she could reach it there was a certain spherical object in her way. She let out a cry, as her curvy body crashed to the ground in a painful thud. She rubbed at her shin, cursing at the idiot who had left whatever was lying there- oh wait that would've been her.

She glared at the inanimate object she had stumbled over, but as she recognised what it was she couldn't help but drop the accusatory glare and remember what had made her start this all in the first place. She dusted off her helmet, placing it on her head and adopting a much more confident posture.

"That's right. I am Mysterio, the Mistress of Illusions! I won't let one slight squabble stop me from achieving my dreams," She announced, causing a couple of passersby to accelerate their speed as they walked past the front of her house. She couldn't help if she just had the personality they all lacked.

"Ow, what is in this?" She complained, feeling an oddly sharp sensation jabbing into her cranium. She removed the helmet, examining the inside and finding a letter there.

"Maybe that was the illusion I was experimenting with all along!" Jess chirped, laughing as her eyes scanned the document before her. It was clear that her entire body language had changed, as those watching her eyes could see the puzzled squint go to excited wide eyes.

"Gramps you're going to have to wait a little longer to help me with this trick, I've got a lot of other ones to showcase for now," Jess exclaimed, twirling around on the spot with the letter in her hand. "How will I fit it all in my baggage?!"

A man was seen rocketing down the street, pumping his feet in tune with his skateboard as he traversed the streets of Los Angeles, the place he was so used to. He had an important delivery to make, and of course, the one to who it was addressed was late for work by the time he woke up and shot out of his house in a souped-up lowrider.

"Da tingz my man haz me do for 'im," the man in question, JD said as he used his legs to propel him further down the street. His friend in question on the other hand. Well, that could only be Craig Kendricks. He may be a handful most of the time, but JD had to admit that that was his homie right there, and knowing what was in this letter, he had to deliver it as soon as he possibly could.

Kicking up his heels, and parking his skateboard, he arrived at the 'In n Out' Craig was employed. He knew the place a little too well, as although Craig worked like a dog when he was on the clock, he did always sneak in a couple of extra fries when JD and the gang showed up.

"Yo Lamar? You there?" JD called out, not concerned about the ruckus he was making. He was practically the cousin to the hardest worker here, and he did recall some sort of saying about 'your home is my home' or something of the sort. English wasn't his favourite subject, he preferred going with the flow of it all... Dawg? Well, that's what he said at least.

A lean man with caramel skin appeared from a doorway, being summoned by who instantly recognised as his best friend. He let out a toothy grin, his standard LA Dodgers baseball jacket put on over his uniform. His eyes were joyful, although it wasn't apparent due to sunglasses shading others from starting into his brown wide eyes.

"JD!? What's good homie?" Craig popped out, giving the other man a fist bump. "My shift just ended but I thought we was waiting til' night before we went from a ride."

JD shook his head, his grin not able to be contained anymore. That was his favourite part of Craig. He was just a doofus. Always calm, collected and simply a solid rock for JD to bounce off of. "Dude, you left your house so quick."

Craig smiled sheepishly. "I was running late, ya dig? Still made it on time though," Craig replied, flicking down his shades to meet the eyes of his friend. Puzzled by his friend's hand outstretched, he followed it down to see a letter located in his grasp. Craig's eyes, no longer concealed from vision, widened as a result, glancing back up at his friend.

"I may have read it already, dawg, but hey. Don't forget me when you make it big, eh?"

"Fly, fly, fly, fly, uh-oh, uh-oh-oh," A woman sang out, commanding the stage with her vocal prowess. She may not have the one this performance centred around, but she sure wasn't about to let herself get upstaged by any means.

See Rina was a vocalist at heart, but she had to admit that no one had the stage presence that her best friend Quaker Aquino did. She may have the vocals, but watching that man perform was one of the things she always declared she was thankful for.

"Fly, fly, fly, fly, uh-oh, now sissy that walk!" She finished off with a flair, as the instrumentals took on full force. She watched as her spotlight dimmed, shining directly on Quaker who was doing way too much for how cheap this gig was. She rolled her eyes, admiring their talent as they spun around on their heels and dropped to the floor, shimmying without a care in the world.

Rina allowed Quaker to live in his moment, sashaying her way backstage and grabbing a bottle of water from her vanity. Her voice, while powerful, was still sore after just about reaching the interval and she always pondered how Quaker still had the energy to continue performing after the countless numbers.

"Oh my God, Rina did you see that bitch in the front? She was giving us the dirtiest look, I bet it's because we look sooo much hotter than her. Like did you see her eyes? Girl, I was doing better eyes than that when I was five!" Quaker spurted out, rushing into the dressing room behind the singer. There was truth behind his statement, as it was evident that the red eyeshadow surrounding his ocean blue eyes was done with pristine precision, and nothing could be clocked about his drag artistic abilities.

Quaker bounced over to Rina, grabbing her water bottle and lightly dousing his light blue locks with the water. He stuck her tongue out at her, shaking out the liquid from his light blue hair and pushing it back away from his face; save for the few strands that wouldn't cooperate. His golden skin glistened with sweat, but his cheery demeanour was fiery hot.

"Quaker, please. I need five minutes." Rina laughed, looking at the short man up and down. They had been friends since when they both shared a college dorm room, and they had been killing performances from that night on.

"Okay but like the tea is boiling hot mi amiga!" Quaker continued, toying with the girl. They were prideful of their nationality and honoured their Spanish heritage with their head held high.

Rina laughed again, flicking through her phone and spending an unusually long amount of time with one message. The gossiper in Quaker was too curious to let this lull in the conversation go untouched, needing to make some sort of comment, but Rina spoke again before being given the opportunity to.

"I am going to miss you," She said softly, looking at her friend, leaving him very perplexed. The emotion and sheer excitement in his eyes, as she flipped over the acceptance text message would be a look Rina would remember for the rest of her life. "Just a reminder to take moi, Rina Belle, on your journey to the top. You're winning this for us!"

The sound of classical music lulled the air, and anyone who would wander by would think Mozart himself was being raised in this mansion that stood on looking at the inferior houses on the street below. Money was never a problem for the Bolton family, and neither was talent as every member of the household had mastered the craft of an instrument.

Francine Bolton was no exception to this rule, delicately strumming a melody on the cello. It was a large instrument for such an average girl, but Francine knew that it was a silent but deadly skill she possessed. Her life was the dream of many, yet very few really understood how the girl's brain worked. She was used to comments of her being snobbish and spoiled however she never let it phase her as she knew that she was raised better than to retort to underhanded, and frankly false, attacks on her character.

She delicately placed her cello back in the case it belonged to and took a deep breath, peering around her room; it would be the last time she'd be in for a while anyways. She definitely was unprepared for the lowly life she would have to lead throughout the course of the competition, memories of watching past seasons sending shivers down her spine. She knew though, that this season would be different. This season would be her rise to stardom, and to break away from the Bolton name and be recognised as her own person.

"Alas, all good things must come to an end," Francine muttered out, peering at her reflection in her vanity. Her white skin gleamed back at her, as she touched up her cheeks with the lightest of blush. A bobble laid on her wrist, reserved for when she expected her black hair to be tied back. At the moment though, she kept it loose, falling gently onto her shoulders.

Stepping away from the mirror she glanced around at all the prized possessions she would have to leave behind on her journey. Her countless awards from her institution lifestyle, after all, she was a bit of a scholar and her effortless skill at the instrument she had grown to love only furthered her ability at gaining these trophies. Painting and statuettes gifted to her by her parents laced her walls and shelves as well, and while she never considered herself materialistic, the irony was sinking in at all these trinkets she had out on display.

"Francine darling, there's a letter here for you," a feminine voice echoed through the halls of the house.

"Mother, it must just be another letter from Marilyn," Francine answered back, looking through her luggage to make sure she had everything.

"No my dear, it seems to be addressed from a… Total Drama company?"

France smirked, latching the clasp on her suitcase. She was already two steps ahead of the game; She knew she'd be cast, it was without a question and she was fully prepared.

"Understood mother, I'll be down shortly."

A man stumbled through the streets of the city he lived in, good old Portland Oregan, lost yet again. Well, he wasn't exactly lost physically, he knew exactly where he was headed too but he was lost in the world of his own thoughts.

He turned the corner to reach a familiar park where he could always clear his head. He was going through a classic identity crisis, as with Robin Hawkins, the man of a thousand voices had forgotten how the track of his own voice went again.

"How does my voice go again, eh?" Robin asked the crowd of pigeons who had surrounded him at this point. It was the most entertaining part of the day to these birds, and as shameful as it was to admit, Robin felt as if these birds were the only people who truly saw him for him.

"Coo (Look at this clown again)," a pigeon chirped out to one of his pigeon friends.

"Coo-coo! (That one was Bart Simpson)," the other pigeon tweeted back.

Robin was clearly mistaken about the 'birds being his friends' idea, but hey, he didn't speak the language of pigeons. He pulled out his phone and reread the message for the umpteenth time that day. Star potential is what we see in you.

"Maybe this, duh-huh, will let me, duh-huh, rediscover myself, duh-huh," Robin told the birds again, as more flocked together to witness the impressionist in action.

"Coo? (Why's he acting Goofy)," The first pigeon asked again, turning to his friend and seeing the other bird rolling on the floor in laughter.

Robin himself was attractive enough to draw attention to him these birds and entertaining enough for them to stay. His tall, strong figure which had the ability to intimidate many was slumped over on the bench, and his brown almond eyes were distraught, piecing together who he was from the beginning. His brown hair was styled into a pompadour, and he felt comfortable that even if his voice was always changing, his appearance would stick with him.

"I mean I'll figure it out on the show. It's Britney bitch!" Robin continued, slipping into a spitting image of Britney Spears's voice. The pigeons cooed and cawed in delight once again, finding this the sheerest comedic show they had ever watched, other than watching a person tread a tasty track of breadcrumbs behind them for them to eat.

"Let's see... Coo-coo! (I slept with your mom)," Robin exclaimed, imitating the birds before him. He had never tried animal calls as imitations, and it showed as the noise that surrounded the flock of birds fell to silence instantly.

In a formation, led by the main two pigeons having the conversation, they spread their wings and took to the skies to fly away from Robin. As they did, they made sure to drop a special gift as they soared away. Robin let out a yelp from being bombarded with, quite bluntly, bird shit and ran away as fast as his strong legs could carry him.

"MAMMA MIA!"

"Before they saw it coming, a masked man appeared from the shadows of the dark," A woman muttered to herself, feverishly typing away on her laptop. She was an esteemed scriptwriter and novelist, and she had just recently gotten hit with a wave of inspiration. She needed to finish as much as she could before the motivation left her soul as it had for many authors who had come before her.

"Elizabeth screamed in horror, seeing the silhouetted figure creep his way behind Jamie and tap him on the ba- AAAHHH," the woman, Aerice Bellial, screamed in pure terror as what she wrote came to life. Feeling the fingers on her back she leapt out of her chair and went crashing to the floor, her extremely tall body and limbs sprawling out under her desk. She was grateful for the life she had led and turned her eyes to who she thought would be her murderer.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry for scaring you A," A woman's voice rang out who Aerice recognised as Molly, their uncle's girlfriend. Letting the adrenaline leave their body, they groaned in frustration.

"Molly why didn't you knock!" She cried out, panting a little from the fright she had gotten. Molly let out a laugh, sitting on A's bed looking at the woman with a glint in her eyes.

"I did Aerice! I even called out your name multiple times but you were in a world of your own," Molly answered, teasing the girl but ultimately not cutting deep. Aerice had thick skin, and a simple scare wouldn't make her cut content to the person she was closest to. Her complexion was also going to her normal light tan from the white she had gone into.

"Isn't it just a little ironic though how I scared you this time," Molly continued, causing A to roll their eyes.

"You better sleep with one eye open tonight," Aerice taunted, wiping Molly's smirk clean off her face.

"Wait, no I didn't mean it!"

"Well too bad. Besides now I've lost my motivation," Aerice added, groaning about how she just didn't know how to proceed with the story from that point on. She twisted her platinum blonde hair around, thinking about it but she couldn't think of the next scene to follow, let alone the next sentence.

"Well how's this for some inspiration," Molly asked, handing a note to the other woman. Aerice glanced at it, not exactly sure of what the contents could be. Tearing it open, and speed-reading through, barely making a squeak as she did. Molly gave her a glance of worry, not sure what reaction could be next to come from the girl.

"Well?"

"Maybe you'll get off being scared for another little while. I'll be on Total Drama Stardom!"

Don and Blaineley glanced at each other after clicking off the last rectangle.

"Well that sure is an interesting cast," Don said to Blaineley, giving her a smile. He could already taste the good ratings that would be brought in by these eccentric young adults.

"Half a cast," Blaineley corrected, staring at the intern menacingly. "Where are the other eight?"

The intern just pointed at the screen where a 'Warning! Fraudulent Activity Detected' message was blaring on and off. The two hosts gave each other a nervous glance and bolted to the door at the same time.

"FIX IT INTERN! YOU'RE GETTING THE BLAME FOR THIS," Blaineley roared out, as Don and her crashed out the door. The unpaid intern glanced at the two of them before giving a deadpan look to the camera. He clicked the X button on the gif he had put up to scare the two of them. It's been a long enough day and he doesn't get paid enough for this.

Cast

Aerice 'A' Bellial by Wolfik128

Andrew 'Drew' James Hanson by Skyn1nja123

Craig Lamar Kendricks by thedragonrooster

Francine Bolton by Alexnueshoorn

Jessica 'Jess' Quinn by Tech-Star

Quaker Aquino by Me (Space Zodiac)

Robin Hawkins by ZNBT

Yuki Burizādo by Thunderstrike16

There we have it. Here is the first look at the cast of Total Drama Stardom. I focussed very heavily on characters who would fit in with the 'Star' aspect of the show, so you'll be seeing a lot of dancers, singers, actors, comedians, writers etc. Simply put, people who can perform.

Applications are still open for the moment, but please feel free to let me know what you think of this half of the cast so far. I want to thank Clown Princess Phoebe, as I saw her use this format for introducing characters in her fic Total Drama: Kingdoms, and I had to put my own twist on it.

Until next time, this is Space signing off ~