A/N: Time for Part ll of this Ice Dancers' biopic, which is the RR arc.
Alright, so here's how we're going on about this - most times there will be two episodes condensed into one chapter. I'm not going to completely stretch out an episode in one chapter each, unless it's absolutely important to the Ice Dancer's story. Chapters may be much longer or much shorter depending on the content.
I know it's a rule in the Amazing Race that contestants can't communicate with people outside the competition, but I'm trying to find a way around that because it's important to Jacques and Josee's story. Ridonculous Race does have an episode where Devin does call his girlfriend Shelley (also that's a major plot hole since Kitty does have a cell phone in RR she could use) Ridonculous Race is based off the Amazing Race, but I'm trying to stretch the rules a little bit.
Song in parenthesis by the Kaiser Chiefs, whom I have a weakness for nowadays :)
Chapter 16- Captured, Cautious, and Careful (I Predict a Riot)
Find the cameras...
Find the cameras...
...Oh!
Simultaneously, Josée and Jacques spotted the cameras and waved at them. After a few seconds, the producer guided them where to run for a confessional. As Jacques ran ahead, the producer pulled her to the side. "Be sure to mention the olympics incident. Might as well get it out of the way."
Josée furrowed her brows. "Why?"
The producer pressed his lips together as if to keep his temper inside. "You want your fans to know why you're here, right?"
As Jacques and Josée settled into their seats for their first confessional, they looked around in confusion. "So we just speak into the cameras?"
"Haven't you done interviews before?" One of the cameramen asked skeptically. "Now tell us why you think you'll win the race." He pointed at them to cue them to speak and that the cameras were rolling.
"We know how to win!" Jacques said confidently, with his arms crossed with a large smile. "We've won gold everywhere!"
"Except the olympics," Josée chimed in, still smiling. "He dropped me, so we only got silver." She hoped she came across as nonchalant about the incident.
Apparently not. Jacques stood up abruptly and gasped, covering his face. "I don't want to talk about it!" And he dramatically ran off-camera.
"Jacques!" Josée called out worriedly, before realizing the camera was still on her and smiled. "Silver's his least favorite color."
Once that was out of the way, the producers guided them to catch up with the other contestants, many of which were in an elevator. The producer pointed them out and to join those contestants before departing to join the other producers. The elevator was about to close, that was, until a girl with short blonde hair above her shoulders stopped it. Josée was immediately reminded of someone from home. "Wait! We can fit a few more." Josée and Jacques blinked at the girl, but didn't argue and stepped into the elevator.
"Merci," Jacques thanked quietly.
The girl waved it off. "It's no problem." He noticed that she spent the entire elevator ride staring at who Jacques assumed to be her partner for the race. Josée bit her lower lip apprehensively; she didn't do well with elevators, so she decided to squeeze Jacques' hand in support.
Thankfully, the elevator doors opened after thirty seconds.
"Right this way teams, over here!" The host, of whom Josée and Jacques recognized to be Don, said aloud. There was a white line he pointed out, presumed to be the starting line. All the contestants rushed out of the elevator, eager in hopes of getting a head start. Some of the other teams that had not taken the elevator with them were walking, taking their time. One of the teams happened to include a kid! Was that even legal? He looked to be with his father.
Soon after, however, all the teams appeared to have arrived.
It was about to begin.
Don grinned. "Welcome contestants!" he announced excitedly, his voice booming over all eighteen teams. "This is the starting line for your twenty-six part race around the world." Josée and Jacques kept their smiles up, they were positive that the cameras were getting this as Don went on to explain, "Each part ends at a chill zone. Get there fast because the last team to stand on the carpet of completion may be cut from competition."
A certain word stuck out to Josée. The word being may, as in they may be cut from the competition. Doing the math, since there were eighteen teams, some of the episodes probably wouldn't eliminate a team, she figured.
"But the first team to reach our last chill zone will win... one million dollars!"
Josée and Jacques smiled big and posed while the rest of the contestants cheered.
"Look over here," Don ordered the teams, pointing to a smaller replica of himself with a large red button on top of his head. "This is our ridonculous tip box, also known as the Don box. Press this button to get the travel tips that will lead you through the Ridonculous Race. Ready teams?"
Oh... Oh shit.
It was really starting.
People started getting into their positions.
"On your marks... get set..."
Josée and Jacques grinned widely.
"...RACE!"
It was madness. Everyone trampled over the host who began to cry about them possibly damaging his face or his hair and gasped. Josée and Jacques, however, didn't seem to care at the moment. Jacques slammed his hand on the red button and read the tip to himself as the camera caught someone reading it aloud.
"Race on foot, to the CN tower!" He and his partner took off, as another person read: "And find the Don box to get your next tip!" They took off as well. The next pair to hit the Don box button was a male and female who wore blue, and looked to be slightly older than them. They looked familiar, but this was no time for chit-chat. Josée and Jacques ran ahead.
"There's the tower!" that one kid cried out.
"And here comes the competition!" Jacques said aloud for the cameras. Unfortunately for him, the moment he said that he found a trash can on top of him and Josée. This was definitely not one of their finest moments.
"My bad!" someone shouted, presumably the person who caused this.
Josée grumbled. "Wonderful. But this is the perfect time for redemption and grace."
"What do you mean?"
"On three..." Jacques caught on as someone asked if they were okay. "One, two, three!" Josée and Jacques gracefully threw the trash can up in the air with smiles, as if they were unfazed by what happened.
"Do you see the Don box?" Josée asked him, to which he nodded as they ran. "Keep being in sync. Our fans will love it." Once they got to the Don box, they saw that the travel tip mentioned an Either-Or. This confused them for a second, before they read the end of the travel tip.
An either-or gives teams the choice of two challenges.
a) either climb 144 flights of stairs to reach the world's tallest observation deck.
b) or take the elevator then get the scare of a lifetime by doing a skywalk all the way around the outside of the tower.
"When we complete whatever challenge there will be a guide to give us another travel tip," Jacques added.
"Scares," Josée said immediately.
Jacques looked doubtful. "That's the elevator, are you... are you sure?"
Josée looked nervous herself, but nodded quickly. "Oui. Who knows what this competition will give us?" They spotted the elevator and joined the other teams, except there was one problem.
"Hey, who pushed all the buttons?" One of the contestants asked.
"Gotta take the stairs!" When her partner tried to interject, the woman shook her head and yelled: "Hustle!"
Josée and Jacques happened to agree.
Being olympians, Josée and Jacques were used to straining exercises. But they were on a stupid four-hour train ride that exhausted them. Yes, they had their athletic advantage compared to other teams, but god... one hundred and forty four flights of stairs? Whoever's idea was this had to be absolutely mad, Josée figured.
But it was for a million dollars...
...and for their reputation to be restored.
Perhaps she was the mad one for agreeing to do this. Hell, for even suggesting to do this competition.
"Josée, are you okay?" Jacques asked as they continued to run, he had noticed she had started to pant.
"Oui, I'm fine..."
"Do you need me to carry you?" He had noticed one of the chubby contestants from earlier that told her partner to hustle had easily picked up her partner and ran.
Josée shook her head. "Non," she told him. "But... but we should acknowledge our fans at the end of that flight over there." She pointed and hustled to get there, along with Jacques as they eyed the camera directly: "Allo! To all of our fans!" She and Jacques waved and blew a kiss at the camera. "We love you!"
And they got back to running. Jesus... how many flights did they have left? Fifty? One hundred? God, she and Jacques had lost count.
"Coming through! Cadets for the win!" The chubby cadet proclaimed, passing them.
"Not for long!" Jacques called out to her.
"Jacques," Josée hissed from beside him as they ran, however her smile was still up so the cameras wouldn't catch her without it. "Don't get involved! Stay in our lane."
Jacques' expression faltered a little. "Oui. Sorry." However, both of them managed to pass the cadets as they started to slow down. Jacques and Josée spotted the exit and grinned; they had to be in first place. They leapt into the exist and spotted the tour guide. "First place!" He panted out, exhausted. Beside him, Josée let out a strained smile as the tour guide handed them the next tip, which Jacques took and read aloud: "Catch a flight with a zip, ride the line to your tip." He frowned a little. "Huh? Qu'est-ce qui?"
Josée took the tip from him. "It says teams must take a flimsy zipline over Lake Ontario to the island airport and snag their next tip along the way, and..." Josée squinted to read the note at the bottom, and then her eyes popped out of her head. "Oh my god, someone died testing this out?!"
"What?" Jacques let out a high-pitched gasp, snatching the tip to read it himself. "Is that allowed? Josée! How could you let us sign up for this?"
"We both read the contracts, Jacques! We knew what we were signing up for!"
"Did we though? Did we really?"
Josée let out a frustrated groan. "Not now. Just take the helmets and let's get gold. For Team Canada. The real Team Canada!"
Jacques grinned and put the helmet on, as did she. "Ready, Josée?"
Josée grinned back. "Of course." Jacques held her easily by her waist as Jacques jumped to grab the zipline with his free hand. Josée spotted the tip and snatched it with ease, all with a winning smile.
"Go Team Canada! Yes!"
As they headed down the zipline, Josée couldn't recall feeling so alive like this, it was almost like ice dancing, but not quite. It was almost refreshing; despite the news that she received not even twenty-four hours ago. She nearly had forgotten about it; the emphasis on the word nearly.
Nonetheless, Josée and Jacques landed in sync on the ground by bouncing off the mattress. The host was there, but Josée wasn't focused on him. She was focused on the fans that were watching them. "Thank you! We love you! Merci!"
"Who are you waving to? There's no one here?" Don asked.
"Our fans!" Josée and Jacques gushed at the same time.
When the producers asked them to elaborate on that, Josée was happy to in another confessional: "Our fans give us the love and energy we need to perform under extreme pressure. Without them, my partner Jacques, would never be able to overcome his many faults."
Jacques' smile disappeared. "Um, why do you say many like that?"
"You know why."
Josée merely smiled widely at the camera and let Jacques read the tip aloud. "Huh? Book two seats on the next flight to Morocco!"
"Huh. I didn't think we would go there first," Josée remarked as she and Jacques ran to the airport. They were eager to find out that they were boarding on the first flight out of the three flights that were going to Morocco. They would have to wait for five more teams to arrive with them before the plane could depart.
"Why did you say many like that?" Jacques repeated, referring to the confessional from earlier.
"You know why," was Josée's repeated vague answer. Truthfully, the producer from earlier today made her bring up the event from the olympics, and as awful as it sounded, Josée couldn't quite get it out of her head. Yes, it was over a year ago, and... well... it was stupid, but... she hadn't quite forgiven him - it was more like she blocked it out.
"Um..." Jacques mused, then gave her a little grin. "We're in the lead, chouchou." He felt it was safe to use her pet-nickname, as there were no cameras around.
"Don't call me that in front of the cameras," Josée hushed to him quietly, her face red. "There could be... hidden cameras or something."
"Yes! We got the first flight homie!" Josée and Jacques realized that their solitude had ended, as one of the teams had arrived - one consisting of the girl that held the elevator for them, and the other being her partner - whom she was noticeably red around.
She took note of them immediately and smiled. "Isn't this exciting? Traveling all over the world!"
Josée and Jacques exchanged a glance before looking back at the friendly blonde. "Um, oui. We do this a lot though, anyway. Our profession... ow!" Josée stomped on his foot to get him to stop talking; but it was too late - recognition dawned on the other team's faces.
"Oh my god!" the male partner exclaimed. "You're that... you're that ice dancing team! From that viral video at the olympics..."
Josée felt her eye twitch. "Oui. That's us." Jacques, you idiot.
"That's so cool that you get to travel everywhere for competitions!" The girl cheered happily. Then, she stuck her hand out. "I'm Carrie. It's nice to meet you." Josée and Jacques eyed the hand with distrust, before Jacques decided to take it first and shake it, and later Josée did the same. "This is Devin." Devin merely waved at the ice dancing pair. Carrie went on: "You're probably used to competitions like this."
Jacques chuckled. "Non. This is far out of our element."
"So what's your label?" Devin asked. "The show's label that they gave you."
"Ice Dancers," Josée stated, as if it were obvious.
"We got called the Best Friends," Devin answered, smiling at Carrie who's eyes twinkled. "It's probably because we've known each other for fourteen years." Josée and Jacques' eyebrows rose slightly in interest at that; after all it was the same amount of time Josée and Jacques had known each other. "I would've done this race with my girlfriend Shelley, but she was busy-"
"'ORE!" Carrie coughed loudly into her arm. Jacques and Josée flinched back slightly; while Devin raised a confused eyebrow. Carrie's face faltered and giggled nervously. "I mean, or... as in, in the Either-Or challenge, we picked or, as in, we did the skywalk!" Jacques knew that's definitely not what she said. "The skywalk was fun, wasn't it?"
Devin's eyes went wide and shook his head. "No way. I thought I was going to die."
"HUSTLE!" A voice barked. The cadet from before ran to her seat eagerly in front of the ice dancers, while the skinnier cadet looked exhausted.
"So... much... running..." She panted. "MacArthur, slow down..."
The bigger cadet - whom was presumed to be called MacArthur - wasn't having it. "No can do, Sanders! It's a race. Is there any way we could make the plane go faster?"
So the cadets Jacques had addressed before were called MacArthur and Sanders, Josée mentally noted. She didn't know what it was, but something in her gut sensation told her that this team was going to be a threat. Perhaps it was the way MacArthur was quick on her feet despite her weight.
"We have to wait for up to six teams to arrive," the other cadet named Sanders said.
"Great. How many of us are there..." MacArthur stood on her chair and counted Devin and Carrie, and then her eyes laid on Josée and Jacques. "Hey!"
Josée and Jacques exchanged a look. "Allo."
This did not appear to calm MacArthur down, her eyes were especially focused on Jacques. "What's the deal with earlier, Blondie?"
"What?"
"At the stairs! The comment you made!"
Oh.
Jacques laughed it off. "It was ah... playful competition!" Josée felt her eye twitch just a bit.
"Nothing about this is playful!" MacArthur exclaimed angrily. "Just... just watch yourself!"
Josée and Jacques stared at her cluelessly.
"MacArthur!" Sanders hissed from next to her. She also got up to address the ice dancers: "Sorry about that." Josée and Jacques didn't get enough time to respond when she saw three other teams join the plane. That totaled to six teams; it wouldn't be long until the plane departed.
One of them, presumably the father of the kid they saw earlier, went up to them with an awkward stance. "Hey! Uh... sorry about the um... trashcan incident."
"That was you?" Jacques asked incredulously.
"Yeah! Sorry about that. I tripped and-"
"Don't worry about that," Jacques interrupted before he could explain any further, "We all get caught up in the competition, non?" The father looked incredibly thankful as he took the next available seats, which was presumably by a couple based on the following reaction:
"Can you stop kissing?! There are children here!"
"Dad..."
"Stephanie, if we crash and fall into our inevitable deaths - at least it will be with you."
"Ryan, that is... the most romantic thing I've ever heard you said."
Josée and Jacques cringed.
"WHO SAID CRASH?!" Someone suddenly shouted.
"Owen, calm down..." oozed a sarcastic voice, clearly annoyed.
"NOAH I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!"
...Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
It was going to be a long plane ride.
By the time the plane pulled into Morocco, Josée and Jacques had picked up on some of the competitors names and their labels on the flight. Other than the Cadets and the Best Friends, they learned about the Reality TV Pros consisting of Noah and Owen - the latter had cried during the whole fucking flight. They learned about the Father and Son team, who was called Dwayne and Junior - the latter who grew increasingly annoyed by his father's chatting, not that the ice dancers could blame him. The last team they learned about was the Daters, Ryan and Stephanie - who would sneak to the back of the plane to make-out.
While this was all going on, the Cadets were arguing about various things - well, mainly MacArthur was - and the Best Friends were entirely too chatty with each other - and every time Devin brought up his girlfriend Shelley, Carrie made a small jab at her that he was too utterly clueless to notice.
By the end of the flight, Josée and Jacques had a migraine. They hardly gotten any sleep. When they announced that they had landed, they were eager to get the hell off that plane to find the Don box. Luckily they were the first ones to hit the button and get their travel tip. "The spice is right," Jacques read aloud, then he gasped: "It's an All-In!"
"Pick spices from the kiosk, ideally: cumin, cinnamon, paprika, saffron, and ginger, to receive your next travel tip," Josée finished, biting her lower lip. She didn't even think about the possibility of an eating challenge, which is certainly what this sounded like. "We have to get going!" Not even looking at anyone else, Josée and Jacques kept their eyes on the cameras as they trampled over a few people in order to get a taxi.
"I didn't think we'd have to do an eating challenge," Josée admitted her thoughts aloud once they found a taxi.
"...It'll be okay," Jacques tried to reassure.
Once they got out of the taxi and ran to the kiosk - along with a few other teams - they collectively realized something.
"These aren't labeled! Hey, why aren't these labeled?" MacArthur exclaimed.
Jacques eyed all the spices carefully; it looked like he was going to have to identify them on his own. He was prepared for this thankfully with his experiences in cooking, and pointed each spice out to the man behind the kiosk. "That's five," he told Josée. Attached to the bag of spices was their next travel tip, which Jacques read again: "Ugh!" he exclaimed, making a face. "We have to ride to a restaurant in the desert on a camel."
Josée shuddered. "That's disgusting," she spat.
"Is there a restaurant around here?" Sanders asked the man behind the kiosk. Josée and Jacques looked over to see the cadet lean in close and speak loudly, "A rest...au...rant! We... looking... for... eat - ah!" She had been pulled off by her partner.
"Easy, Sanders. He's not deaf, he just speaks a different language." MacArthur turned to him. "Sorry about that." Then, she got up to his face and shouted: "I... am... sorry! Apologize-eo? You understand?!" Jacques rolled his eyes as the cadets went to get their camel. That certainly unlocked unwanted childhood memories; when he moved to Montreal as a young child he had hardly understood English so people would shout at him, as if that was supposed to help him.
As the ice dancers went to get their camel, Josée got more and more uncomfortable; he could tell by the way her smile was widening in an unnatural state. So his first thing to do was hoist Josée up in the air with one hand. "Jacques, what are you-"
"I won't let something as angelic as you touch that disgusting camel," Jacques interrupted.
Josée cocked an eyebrow, but nodded with a smile and spread her arms out in a pose. "Merci."
When they reached the restaurant, they got their travel tip. "Hand your spices to the chef so he can add them to a bowl of Moroccan stew, which one of you must eat," Josée read aloud, then she sighed. "Oh... oh god."
"Do you want me to eat it?" Jacques offered.
Josée shook her head. "Non. You picked the spices, I... I can do this."
"Are you sure-"
"Yes I'm sure," Josée said sharply, through a clenched smile. She waited in line behind the Best Friends, and she just remembered something. She reached into her skirt and pulled out her lucky rabbit's foot. "Come on, bun-bun. Don't let us down!"
The producers found this to be very, very interesting.
"I'm not superstitious at all," Josée explained to the cameras in the confessional, "I just believe that this rabbit's foot is responsible for everything good in my life." She believed it was true. She would argue that it was how she and Jacques were able to meet.
"Can I rub it?" Jacques asked hopefully.
Josée giggled a little. "Of course you can't."
Jacques stared at her in disbelief. "Still? After all this time? I picked the spices yet you put your trust in bun-bun!"
Josée scowled and crossed her arms. "Well, you've been unlucky in the past."
...Oh.
When their confessional was over, it was time to put their spices in the dish to make the stew. The chef handed the bowl over to Josée, who's smile seemed to get more and more strained by the second.
It's just stew... Josée told herself. It was either chug the stew or lose the competition; which would be even more embarrassing since they would be the first ones out.
Josée winced and began to chug the stew. Jacques squealed happily and looked straight to the camera as she did so, "A wonderful performance of grace and efficiency! Bravo!" She felt a little better after he complimented her, her smile being a little more natural when they finished the stew.
...It still made her feel gross inside; she wasn't used to eating so carelessly.
Jacques had picked her up again and grinned, "For the fans?"
"And also for the gold," Josée remarked, matching his grin. She put her arms out in front of her with one leg bent. Jacques laughed as he caught sight of the cadets slowing down, it wouldn't be too long before they passed them.
"Well that's just creepy," MacArthur stated. But Jacques didn't care. He waved at them teasingly despite Josée's wishes to stay in their own lane.
...Unfortunately, this resulted in Josée and Jacques running into a tree with a thud.
"Later skaters!" MacArthur called out to them tauntingly.
Jacques and Josée groaned and got up quickly to try and catch up to the cadets. Both teams were side-by-side, and it was anyone's game. Josée squinted just a bit, they could practically see the chill zone; it was all theirs. As long as they just kept running...
But then MacArthur leapt off her feet - with Sanders still being carried - and landed straight into the chill zone. Josée and Jacques were shocked by how athletic she was, and that had caught them completely off-guard. It was... almost impressive.
Nonetheless, Josée and Jacques arrived at the chill zone shortly after, waving to the side and then to the camera.
"So, as a Canadian ice dancing team, you probably hear this a lot: third place!"
Beat.
Josée and Jacques' smiles vanished at an instant, before they popped right up again; with Josée's being more strained than usual - coupled with her eye twitching.
"That's wonderful," Josée spat out in a disgustingly sweet voice that told them that it was anything but. A producer called them over away from the rest of the teams, to ask how they felt about their place, Josée had tried to say that she was fine. That was, until the producer brought up again that it's a worse standing than she and Jacques got at the olympics.
"Agh!" Josée screamed, throwing various items off-camera. Jacques winced and put his hands on his head and closed his eyes, shying away from the tantrum. He opened his eyes to see a knife had been thrown against the background and his eyes grew wide.
"Holy fuck," one of the producers swore, grinning at the tantrum that had taken place. "This is good."
...What? How on earth was this good? Jacques didn't understand. They had gotten third for the first episode, which was shameful and disgusting. Josée was obviously upset about the loss, but why did it affect them? When he looked at the producers chatting among one another and grinning, something didn't feel right.
"Does this happen often?" one of the producers asked curiously, after breaking away from their conversation.
"Um..." Jacques didn't know how to answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Josée starting to get drowsy after having a tantrum. He started to get up to pick Josée off the ground, who had fallen asleep in a matter of seconds. "I-"
"Don't worry, you don't have to answer. Can you wake her up?" Once again, the producers didn't let Jacques answer. One of them snapped their fingers and pointed to the ice dancing pair. Jacques watched as one of the producers showed up with a spray bottle.
At once, Jacques smacked his hand away. "Don't you dare." He gently shook Josée and murmured into her ear. He hated to interrupt her sleep, because usually whenever Josée had a tantrum around him he would let her wake up on her own.
Josée's eyes fluttered open to see Jacques knelt down looking over in concern, "Mm?"
"Morning, Josée," he greeted, helping her up to her feet. He turned to the producers, with a glare. "Where do we go?"
"You can wait at the chill zone with everyone else."
Josée and Jacques got to the chill zone to see most of the other teams had arrived; neither Josée or Jacques had bothered to learn everyone else's names as they talked among one another, it would come eventually. They did, however, learn that the Best Friends were the ones to get first place. They were forced to wait outside before they could check into hotels for the night, as there were a few other teams that have yet to cross the finish line.
They couldn't help but overhear some of the conversations.
"Who's left?" MacArthur asked one of the contestants, who had a cowboy hat.
"Uh..." He looked around and counted the teams, "There's the wizard people, the vegans, and the father & son team."
"Father & Son?" Sanders questioned. "How is that possible? They were on the first flight."
"I think their camel broke down," answered the partner beside the one with the cowboy hat. His eyes were gleaming at the sight of her. "I'm Brody-"
"Don't care," MacArthur interrupted. She turned to Brody's partner. "Thanks, uh... uh..."
"Geoff."
"Cool." Then, MacArthur grinned and addressed the rest of the teams that had made the finish line: "Who wants to place bets on who'll be last?" Sanders face-palmed from beside her while the other teams - with the exception of the ice dancers - huddled over in interest. While the other teams discussed on who would be last, MacArthur slipped out of the circle to approach the ice dancers, with a cocky grin and her hands on her hips. "So you both got third place!"
Josée felt herself grow very hot. She longed to have another tantrum, but instead she grinned back and bore it. "Oui. We're hoping to get to the top of the podium next time."
"But you won't," MacArthur taunted, still with that cheeky grin. Josée didn't know what it was about her. Perhaps it was the brash personality and the natural mean attitude she had, but Josée was reminded of yet another person - except the person in mind was not a good person and contributed to one of the worst feelings in the world - other than the olympics incident, of course.
"Oh, I assure you, we will," Josée shot back, grinning venomously. "We're used to getting the gold."
"Shit!" MacArthur exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization. "You're that figure skating team! The ones that got second last year at the olympics!" She turned to Jacques. "That was such a funny viral video, I couldn't stop laughing for weeks. Did you plan to drop her?" Josée felt her breathing grow shallow; not out of having a panic attack, but she was genuinely starting to feel her blood boil.
"Non, I didn't," Jacques replied smoothly, though he wouldn't mind seeing the cadet in pain as of right now for bringing up that event. He looked over to Josée to see that MacArthur had clearly picked the right thing to insult her about.
"The other teams are coming!" Carrie exclaimed, pointing them out. Don called out the vegans to be in sixteenth place, which left Dwayne and his son, and whatever the wizard people's names were called.
"...And here comes seventeenth!" Don called, which revealed the father and son duo. Josée and Jacques covered their mouths, along with everyone else, when they saw the state of Don continuing to run after Junior had let go of his hand.
"Are there any trees? Warn me when you see a tree!" Dwayne exclaimed.
"We're almost there dad!" Junior called out to him.
Don looked mildly amused. "How long are you going to let him run for?"
Junior shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I just needed a little break."
The LARPers - also known as the "wizard people" were the ones that got eliminated, and Don told them. Josée and Jacques didn't think much of it, even when the security had to get them out of there because of their "spells." Josée and Jacques were convinced that if anyone acted like the LARPers did in their old performing arts high school they would've been bullied mercilessly.
"Alright people, that's a wrap!" Someone shouted from behind the cameras. People began to pack up their equipment.
Don turned to the remaining seventeen teams. "We have a bus that will take all of you to the hotel you'll be staying at for the night. The people that have handled your luggage will give it to you by the time we get there." Josée felt sweet relief; she craved a warm shower and a bed. "The producers will wake you up an hour before it's time to leave. I suggest you get a lot of sleep; you're going to need it."
Third place, Josée's mind echoed over and over like a record on repeat. It was also known as bronze, the medal of failure. Her mother wouldn't be too happy about that; but that didn't matter right now - she just needed to win this entire competition, that's all... but she knew it would help if they kept getting gold. It wouldn't happen if some people - the Cadets especially came to her mind - got in the way of that. God, that... that... MacArthur. She really wanted her nerves to be fried, didn't she? She continued to egg on and on-
"Chouchou," Jacques interrupted her thoughts quietly, just in case so no one overhead them. "We're going to the hotel now."
Josée blinked rapidly and nodded. "Merci, Jacques."
Just as Josée and Jacques were about to walk on the bus, a voice from behind them caught their attention. "Hello?"
The ice dancers turned back around to recognize that voice belonged to a producer's, who was accompanied by a few others. "I was wondering if the both of you would like to have a chat with us." They exchanged a curious look, before shrugging to move to the side and motioned for the producer to speak. The same producer grinned, shark-like. "Wonderful."
For some reason, Josée and Jacques felt their stomachs churn.
Another producer spoke up. "We saw how upset you were when you got third."
"Yes. We were very upset," Jacques agreed, looking over to his partner to see her eye-twitching just a bit; she had been doing that a lot today.
"We have a proposition for the both of you," the producer went on, "Although this is a reality TV game show, and things are... supposed to be fair, well... seeing how much you want to be winners after the olympics incident you told us about, we think we could give you some leeway in exchange for something else-"
"What do you mean by 'leeway?'" Jacques interrupted skeptically, narrowing his eyes at him.
The producer shrugged. "Maybe purposely getting in the way of other teams? It would be great for reality television. Maybe sabotaging one or two... it would really help you get further in the game, and for a show like this, it would be beneficial."
Beat.
"No thank you," Josée cut in, shaking her head. "Jacques and I are focused on winning this fair and square." Jacques smiled at her for making this choice. Besides, they knew better than to get sucked into things that the producers asked - it would only lead to trouble.
Naturally, this frustrated the producers. "Fine," another one said in a gruff tone, "But don't be surprised when people turn on you." And they walked away.
Josée and Jacques made their way to the bus and took their seats, and waited for their arrival at the hotel. They ignored the chattiness of the other contestants - they were way too bubbly, Josée thought. Well, not all of them, she supposed - there was this one pair that looked like vampires that had been quiet in comparison to everyone else.
When they stopped in front of the hotel and got their luggage, Josée and Jacques heard a loud oof coming from behind them. They turned around to see that it was the pair that they had seen earlier today; a male and a female wearing bright blue clothes. They were very familiar, but neither of them could place who they were. The male had tripped on what looked like to be his own two feet, with his glasses launched to Josée's feet. Josée smirked a little and picked them up, and handed it to the man, who smiled.
The male cleared his throat and spoke up: "Um... Bonjour..." He hesitated, thinking of the proper translation. "Un ser...pent peut-il faire du... hula hoop dans... un cookie?"
Josée and Jacques exchanged a very weirded out look, before Jacques decided to speak up, suspicious. "Did you just ask us if a snake could hula hoop in a cookie?"
"Um... oh god, oh god-" The man paused, scratching his head, before asking: "Les... singes jouent-ils aux pommes de... terre... dans l'espace?"
"...How would that even work?" Jacques asked in disbelief. Out of all the conversations Josée and Jacques had with the other teams, this was by far the strangest. "Monkeys don't play potatoes anywhere! Not just in space." Jacques huffed. "Your French is disgusting!"
The man rolled his eyes. "Va te faire foutre!"
Jacques scowled. "He can't even swear correctly."
"Oh my goodness he's butchering our language..." Josée remarked, cringing visibly. Though she couldn't help but admit that his sayings were a little funny.
"Tom!" His partner shrieked beside him, her cheeks flushed. "You were just saying random words in French! How else are we going to shop in France if we go there?" The woman turned to Josée and Jacques and gave them an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Um... wait, I've got it. Is it uh... je suis désolé?" Josée and Jacques nodded slowly. "I'm Jen, and my partner - who has the tendency to butcher the French language and who is unbelievably clumsy - is Tom."
"I'm trying my best, Jen! God."
"We've been trying to learn French ever since we found out we were going to be on the show," Jen explained. "Just in case if we were to travel to the fashion capital of the world, because I would literally die if no one could understand us when trying to get amazing clothes here."
"Well you should do it instead of your partner," Jacques stated, with a giggle.
"Pompadours are so last season," Tom replied, pointing to his hair. "Get with today." Jacques' smile disappeared and gasped. But Tom just laughed it off. "I'm totally kidding. I've always loved the style. It's very European-chic."
Jacques raised an eyebrow, but took the compliment. "Merci."
"How did you know we spoke French?" Josée asked.
"You're those ice dancers from Montreal, that's why! Josée and Jacques, is it?" Both of them nodded. Josée bit her lip apprehensively; she wished that she hadn't asked that question. She could only imagine the ridicule that she was going to be given about her fall.
But to Josée's surprise, they didn't even mention that. "You're shorter in person," Tom remarked to Josée, then addressed the both of them. "We love the costumes you design. They're so fab. I think we featured them on our blog once."
That's when it dawned on them.
"Merde!" Josée exclaimed, looking between the pair. Jacques seemed to realize it as well. "You're the blog! You're-"
"Now Trending With Tom and Jen!" The Fashion Bloggers said simultaneously with matching smiles.
"We've come across your blog a few times when you reviewed our costumes!" Jacques said excitedly. "Merci. It really helped us out in competition with all the positivity."
Tom waved it off. "No problem."
"Look... we would love to continue to chat, but..." Josée hesitated, then continued: "We really should start getting ready, for the competition tomorrow, you know?" Before Jacques could properly say goodbye, she took Jacques by the hand and dragged him away, along with their luggage.
Once they checked into their hotel room, Jacques shared his thoughts. "They seemed nice."
Josée shook her head roughly. "They do. But we need to stay in our own lane. Don't get involved with anyone, because those producers are sort of right, they could turn on you. Who knows if they're going to sabotage us? Speaking of..." Josée shot him a glare and she sat down on her bed for the night. "Thanks for annoying those cops."
"Ah, I'm sorry Josée."
Josée ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "It's fine, I just hope..." she paused when she noticed a strong skunk-ish smell that she hadn't smelled since high school, and made a face of disgust. "Ugh! What the hell...?" Josée and Jacques went over to open the door to see what the commotion was about in the hall.
"Dude, the Rockers snuck weed onto the plane!" Geoff cheered alongside Brody with the Cadets.
"...which is a crime," Sanders said knowingly.
"Eh," MacArthur waved it off. "It's probably medicinal-"
"MacArthur!"
Josée couldn't roll her eyes any harder and slammed the door shut. This was utterly ridiculous. Why did... why was it so confusing too? Why were the other teams so friendly with each other? Was this not a race for a million dollars? They were supposed to be cutthroat, they - it was only the first day and people were starting to get along?
Why was she told differently?
Josée thought that she and Jacques would get peace and quiet for the rest of the night, but she was wrong. Five minutes after Josée had slammed the door shut upon the sight of the Surfers and Cadets, there was a knock on her door. Josée opened it to reveal Carrie, who's face was red from embarrassment.
"Hi... Sorry to bother you," Carrie started off, chuckling nervously and avoiding Josée's eyes. "You seemed really nice from the flight, so uh... some of my luggage got lost! And there's a... feminine product that I need." Josée immediately caught on and nodded. While she reached into her luggage to get said feminine product, her thoughts wandered off briefly on why Carrie thought that she was nice; she hardly had said a word that could be considered nice. Nonetheless, Josée returned with the product and handed it to her. Carrie took it gratefully. "Thank you so much!"
"It's... not a problem," Josée told her, she was about to close the door until Carrie stopped it again.
"Wait!" Carrie exclaimed. Josée furrowed her brows at the blonde, who looked a little more apprehensive than before. "Do you think Devin knew I called Shelley a whore?"
Josée couldn't help but grin at that. She knew it. "Believe me, the whole plane ride he was utterly clueless it was laughable." That being said, Josée shut the door without any more interruptions.
"What happened to staying in our own lane?" Jacques piped up from his bed, which he was laying down on.
"This is a girl thing, it's different," Josée replied curtly. She climbed onto her own bed and stared up at the ceiling, shaking her head. "Third place... maman would hate this." Jacques felt guilt consume him; but stayed quiet as his partner went on, "She wouldn't understand this competition at all, it's not traditional in any sense. And almost everyone here is just... so unbelievably chatty and friendly. To be honest, it's making me uncomfortable."
Jacques turned his body so he was facing Josée. "I don't think you should worry, chouchou. Like you said, stay in our own lane, oui? Stay away from the producers and all..."
Josée let out a deep sigh and faced him from the other bed. "I just want to get the gold to redeem myself."
"I understand."
Damn him. He always knew how to make her feel better hardly doing anything at all. "Merci, Jacjac."
"Of course, chouchou."
Josée faced back to the ceiling again. Isaac wasn't kidding; this was entirely different territory, indeed.