A/N: Hi. So how did I end up here? Well, I wanted to write a full lengthy story about the Ice Dancers. I was intrigued by their dynamic (both good and evil, haha) and I was hoping to expand that with my own interpretation. There are some little things we were given of the Ice Dancers that I especially found to be fascinating (i.e, Josee's claustrophobia, her relationship with her mom, Jacques' guilt over dropping Josee at the olympics, and so much more) and wanted to put that into place.

Cover art by Caleb13frede on Tumblr.

Be sure to follow my Tumblr joseeapologist for more behind-the-scenes stuff about the story.

The title is very similar to Facade: Through the Eyes of the Codemeister. While not intentional, the meaning is all the same: this is through their eyes...

Oh, and I don't own Total Drama.

(P.S, don't hesitate to review! I love feedback from my readers)

Prologue

'Bronze is the medal of failure.'

That simple sentence, one with so many more layers now, was ingrained in Josée's head by her mother. She made sure to drill it in her mind, over and over. There were many other things that her mother had said to her. One of them happened to be that "Silver was always the first to lose." These two sayings were especially prominent in Josée's life by the time she was six-years-old, which was a little after she and Jacques met and became ice dancing partners. While most parents - Jacques', for example - were just happy to see that they made the podium, Josée's mother thought that gold was the only option, and anything else below that was unacceptable.

But now, bronze had a whole other meaning, and this was not about their ranking on the Ridonculous Race.

Her mother wasn't here to yell at her anymore.

The ice dancers walked to a hotel, eeriness in each step. Jacques grew increasingly worried for Josée as he glanced at her every few minutes. The way that she began biting her ponytail was a sign of a potential panic attack and something else very, very worrying. How was she going to take the recent news? When they did enter their hotel room, it was still quiet, but both could feel the tension rising.

Finally, Jacques dared to call her name: "Josée?"

"I don't know," she stated quickly, evenly as she could muster. She shook her head in total disbelief. "I just don't know."

It was silent for the next five minutes after that.

But then, Jacques heard a familiar whimper - he looked over to see that Josée had sunken to the floor on her knees, a solemn expression on her face. "I failed her."

Jacques immediately rushed over and knelt down, putting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Mon petit chou, you did your very best! You didn't fail..."

Josée shrugged the hand off. "I promised Mama I would win!" she snapped as tears streamed down her face. "This embarrassed her so much that... I... I killed her!"

Jacques' eyes grew wide. "Josée, non! You did not kill her... she had been very sick-"

"And I finished her off, didn't I?!" she interrupted bitterly. "I can still hear her... she's dead now, and I could still hear her..." She let out a wail and began to punch his chest in a fit of fury. "How is this fair?!" Jacques was still. Josée eventually stopped punching him and collapsed into a fit of sobs. "It's not fair..." Jacques gathered Josée in his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. "Even when she's dead, she still calls me a failure..."

Jacques' heart broke then and there; he had failed his partner. Again. He had told her, he had promised that they were going to win the race, just so Josée's mother would for once in her life, be proud of her, that she would hopefully forget about what happened at the olympics before she passed. He was going to achieve that goal by any means necessary. This is for her, he kept telling himself, over and over. He was doing this for her because why wouldn't he do this for her? He couldn't exactly comprehend his best friend's relationship with that awful woman, that pathetic excuse for a mother, but Josée wanted this, so of course he did this.

Anything for Josée.

To see the woman that he had grown to adore way past friendship break down like this... it obliterated him. Although they had known each other for almost fifteen years, there was a lingering feeling in Jacques, one that he did not fully acknowledge until much later. He was in total denial before then, with a bunch of complicated feelings and internalization that drove him absolutely mad - the race contributed it to them even further, and deep down, Jacques was still afraid. Not that she knew that he harbored such feelings for her, after all. He was working on how to tell her that.

This was not the time for that.

So for now, Jacques held Josée and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You're not a failure, mon petit chou," he mumbled softly into her hair, as she continued to sob into his chest. "You were never a failure." Jacques rubbed her back comfortingly, as his mind drifted back to where it all began.

A/N: In case you're confused, the next chapter goes back in time... way back in time.