A/N: Yeah, so this is a much longer chapter. I think this is the longest RR chapter so far.
Song in parenthesis by Superchick.
Warning: Mild description of throwing up / EDs.
Chapter 19- The Insistence of Others (Beauty From Pain)
Don had mentioned beforehand that they were going to Brazil, and that was when one of vegans had beaten the crap out of him. Josée couldn't help but be a little impressed that for someone who didn't eat any meat, she managed to beat Don to a pulp. Nonetheless, Josée was still infuriated from yesterday - and wasn't exactly happy with Jacques.
Jacques on the other hand was craving a cigarette.
After receiving their travel tip and taking a taxi, Josée and Jacques got on the first plane - a military plane, of all things - in order to get to Brazil. Thankfully, they were on the first flight and would hopefully make their way back to the top of the podium - because really, Jacques could feel Josée's glare on him the entire time. She was still upset about the Fashion Bloggers, about him, and about getting bronze - and about other things he wasn't so sure about.
Jacques was more upset about her being upset about the second part, of course.
Josée scowled at Owen, and muttered to herself: "He's such a baby for chewing on the teddy bear." Jacques would've liked to point out that Josée once in a while chewed on the string of bun-bun in extremely stressful situations, but kept it to himself - he didn't need Josée more mad at him.
Besides, they needed to focus on the competition.
The producers approached the ice dancers for an interview.
"We failed in Iceland," Jacques said, sounding desperate: "Ice-land." He crossed his arms. "That's unacceptable."
"Agreed," Josée said coldly, adopting a similar stance that of her partner's. "Last time I was this mad about where I placed..." She turned to her head to glare at Jacques. "I got a new partner!"
Jacques squinted at her. "Oh yeah, you got five new partners."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Her partner only scoffed. "Nothing, nothing..."
Back on the flight to Brazil, the plane was about to take off. The engine started to hum and power up, until a hissing sound was heard; and the plane started to shake mildly, startling almost all of the contestants as they desperately tried to hold on.
"Sorry, folks, flat tire. Must've rolled onto something sharp," the pilot said over the PA system. Then the plane suddenly stopped.
Josée couldn't help but let out a groan. "You've got to be kidding. This is not happening-"
"Josée, calm down-"
"Non! At this rate, we'll be off the podium!" Josée snapped at her partner. The other contestants stared at her. Josée blinked; then proceeded to smile widely. This only weirded out the other contestants even more, well, with the exception of the Fashion Bloggers, who still looked guilty.
"It's not a podium," Jen said quietly, with a frown. "You'll be fine-"
"I know one of the traitors isn't talking to us today!" Jacques retorted.
Tom rolled his eyes. "We're not traitors if you could just listen-"
"We don't want want to hear it!" Josée cut in harshly, however with that smile of hers coupled with her eye twitching more noticeably than before. That stupid flat tire was going to be the reason that they would lose the gold. It took everything, and she meant everything, for her not to lose it and have a tantrum on the plane as she waited a while for it to work again - the producers would've gotten a kick out of that.
Finding out the other flight to Brazil arrived first over the winning teams infuriated the ice dancers to no end, because how was that fair? Sure, bronze was absolutely abysmal and shameful, but surely it was better than the teams that had done far worse than them. When their flight pulled in, Josée and Jacques rushed to the front of the plane so they would be the first ones out when they ran.
Josée spotted the Don box and slammed the button and taking the travel tip. "Botch or watch, you're up Jacques."
"Huh?"
Josée ignored her partner's interruption and read on, "Whoever didn't swim with the sharks in the Mediterranean must try to perform a traditional Brazilian rite of passage and stick their hand inside a mitt full of venomous bullet ants to retrieve their next travel tip."
"Come on, this keeps getting worse!" Jacques complained.
"Oh you're seriously not whining, are you?" Josée said angrily. "I ate that disgusting stew and swam with sharks... you drew a picture." She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the mitt full of bullet ants. "Get the tip!" she demanded.
Jacques winced and reluctantly inserted his hand into the mitt, feeling a tingling sensation at first - before excruciating pain overcame his hand and he let out a collection of high-pitched shrieks. "It stings like missing gold in Vancouver by half a point!"
They started to run until the production team stopped them again for an interview.
"Arriving late to Brazil means we had to up our performance," Jacques supplied.
"Like the way I did at the olympic trials," Josée added.
"Yes... like the way we did that," Jacques corrected, trying not to lose his smile - it was hard since Josée had been frustrated all day.
When the interview was over, Jacques read the travel tip: "Feeling divine? Then swing your butts to the coconuts." He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Huh? It says we have to cross a gorge by any means necessary, and then find their next travel tip in coconuts." Then it hit him: "Di...vine. Oh!"
Josée smacked her forehead and sighed. "Come on." And they started to run to the gorge. "Look!" Josée exclaimed, pointing at a nearby vine. She grabbed it with her two hands while Jacques wrapped his legs around it and held her above him by her waist and legs - and took off to get to the other side...
...and proceeded to knock into that wimpy twin team they didn't know the name of.
Jacques watched as his partner suddenly sniffed the air very loudly and cocked an eyebrow in curiosity; he reminisced over his conversation with Devin last night about how it was so difficult to understand what your best friend was thinking - it resonated very much right now. "I can smell it!" She suddenly exclaimed, then shouted gleefully: "I can smell the gold!" He broke out into an endearing smile at Josée's genuine happiness; he was waiting for her to show excitement, with the way she gushed about gold.
They ran over to the coconuts and smiled at the cameras as they broke several of them. However, their smiles turned into frowns as they struggled to find travel tips. More teams arrived to open the coconuts and found the travel tips with ease. Cries of "yay" and "awesome" came from the Best Friends' team, who moved on to the next challenge. The same went for the Goths team.
"Where is the travel tip?!" Josée hissed furiously, banging her hammer on yet another empty coconut. Jacques bit his lower lip anxiously and tried to hammer down the coconuts even faster. "God, it's like we could never win!"
Ryan and Stephanie were the next team to get a travel tip.
Followed by the pair that Josée and Jacques were still unfamiliar with that wore purple shirts that fought like brothers.
Josée took a breath to try and calm herself down. "Let's try that area over there!" Her voice was wobbly and shaky - no, she was not going to lose, not after the embarrassment known as yesterday. Josée threw the coconut that she had in the opposite direction as she and Jacques ran to another area.
"Yes!" Noah cheered, with a new tip in his hand. "Come on!" Realization dawned on Josée, that coconut she threw had a tip in it.
And she just gave it away.
"Back! Go back!" Josée shrieked, running back as Jacques threw a coconut that he had in his hand.
...it unfortunately contributed to helping another team.
"Well! Whaddaya know?" Dwayne exclaimed happily. Jacques let out a scoff as Dwayne shouted, "Hurry!"
Meanwhile, Josée was enraged - she was now unintentionally helping these teams, even though the Fashion Bloggers yesterday proved that all these contestants were out for themselves. Josée was inches away from a tantrum, and well... she didn't know how to describe it; her eyes had glowered madly at the Father & Son team with envy; how she longed to just rip the tip out of his hands that was rightfully hers. She could feel her composure slipping away by the second, and desperately tried to hold on.
But then she couldn't.
"That's ours! Give it to me!" Josée demanded.
She didn't know how it happened. One second she was just shouting at him, and then the next...
...she tackled Dwayne and tried to reach for the tip, twisting his leg.
"Run, son!" Dwayne called out to Junior, handing him the tip. "Save yourself!" Jacques began to chase Junior, wanting to take the travel tip that belonged to them. Jacques didn't think much about it, like Josée, he was also frustrated that they had terrible luck, and he wanted to fix it.
Josée grabbed a nearby coconut and threw it, hitting Jacques upside the head and knocking him into the ground. Relief washed over her when she saw a tip break through the coconut. Josée eagerly got up from her spot and snatched the tip. "Finally!" she exclaimed, then she heard a little groan from underneath her foot, revealing Jacques on the ground in pain. She helped him up to his feet. "We have to go now, Jacques!" she started assertively, "Pull yourself together. It's an all-in." She let out an excited gasp when she had read on. "We're designing a costume! One team member has to make a headpiece, while the other has to make a tail!"
Jacques groaned and rubbed the back of his head. "...Eh? What happened?"
Josée bit her lower lip. "A... a..." she paused awkwardly, then: "A monkey jumped down from a tree, picked up a coconut, and threw it at you."
"Are you sure - Oh!" Josée had grabbed his hand and dragged him quickly before he could finish his sentence. "Josée, slow down!"
"We'll have to work very fast!" Josée kept going on and on, bordering on hysterical, "If we don't, we'll get last, but it looks like we may have it! We can do it!"
Of course the producers just had to stop them for an interview just when their game was starting to pick up.
"Oh... the coconut incident," Josée said meekly, then giggled. "I didn't want to do that, but... it was ours, I was just... gah! You know?" More awkward giggling followed.
Jacques was still confused. "Tell me again what happened?"
Josée faltered for a second; it looked like she was going to stick to her story, she thought. "I told you, a monkey jumped down from a tree, picked up a coconut, and threw it at you." She ended it with a little smile, while Jacques looked skeptical, and rightfully so.
After the interview they went over to the station where they would design their costumes. Jacques snapped out of his daze and got to focusing on the designs. Like it's been said before, although Josée was the better skater - Jacques was much better at designing costumes, therefore he would prove to be a lot more useful during the challenge. The best part about it was that they were both extremely fast when it came to a hands-on approach of designing. There had been times where a costume had been torn a day before an ice show, therefore Josée and Jacques had to whip something up quickly to be good enough for a performance.
They were so focused that they hadn't even spoken to each other during the duration of it. It was also the adrenaline pumping through their bodies to be surrounded by familiarity of something they were good at. Speaking of adrenaline, Josée thought back to when she tackled Dwayne. It... it felt good, she wouldn't lie - she felt awful that she felt good about it, but that didn't change the fact that she was awful when she lost her control in front of the cameras like that.
Not to mention Jacques nearly attacked a child.
That didn't look good.
"Done!" Josée proclaimed after finishing the final touches of their costumes. Only a minute later did they both try on the costumes, which were of course a perfect fit. They made their way to the local to have them inspect their clothes, before smiling and giving them a thumbs up.
"What the heck, didn't they just get here?" Noah asked, bewildered.
The producers had to stop them to explain how they did that so fast.
Josée chuckled. "We've designed and created our own costumes since we were four. We could do this kind of stuff in our sleep."
"Give us beads, sparkles, and a theme..." Jacques paused, then posed with his partner, "...we'll skate your dream."
After the interview, Jacques read the travel tip that the local handed to him: "Teams must use one of the tandem hang gliders to land in Copacabana Beach where you'll find the chill zone." Jacques and Josée smiled and made their way to grab the tandem hang glider tightly and take off from the cliff. At first, Josée and Jacques saw that the Vegans had made it to the chill zone from a distant, but as they drew nearer they overheard Don giving them a penalty - which meant...
Oh, could it be true?
Josée and Jacques landed on the chill zone in a spectacular pose, as Don announced: "Ice Dancers, you're in first place!"
Both of them were thrown flowers as Josée blew a kiss at the camera. "Yes!" She shouted victoriously. Oh, those Vegans were so close to winning, but she and Jacques manage to snatch it, and it felt good. She couldn't help herself: "In your face, ve - GANS!" She let out a horrified scream at the sight of one of them, her face all screwed up and puffy - causing her to drop her flowers. Jacques looked over only to imitate the same from Josée.
"What happened?" Jacques exclaimed, high-pitched. "It's so... it's so ugly!"
"Bullet ants," was what her partner said, wincing. Josée and Jacques raised eyebrows, yet said nothing. Well, that didn't matter. Josée and Jacques finally got back on top again; and hopefully they would keep up their good luck streak this time. It didn't quite make-up for yesterday, because the Fashion Bloggers distracting them really set them back, but this was a great start. Speaking of the Fashion Bloggers, Josée and Jacques were surprised that they didn't finish making those costumes quicker.
Don let out a scream as the next team arrived, which were the Goths. "Great flying births of death! The Goths are in second place." Josée and Jacques blinked at them; though the Goths didn't seem to care much about the competition, or well, that's how they appeared - they were doing well these past few days. It was a little off-putting. More teams began to follow shortly, with the Vegans still having a penalty. It looked like it was going to be another close one.
After a minute remained for the Vegans' penalty, the last team arrived - which Josée and Jacques believed to be the Rockers. One of the team member's - the one with his hand swelled from the bullet ants - suddenly gasped and started to scream, as if he had a poor reaction time to the bullet ants. All the other teams were watching intently from afar as the Rockers ran for the chill zone.
"Vegans, your penalty ends in three, two, one... Rockers in fourteenth, second last place!"
Wow.
Josée couldn't imagine being in that position, from thinking you're first to actually being last. God, she doesn't know what she'd do.
After Don dismissed the Vegans, he looked straight at the camera: "Now that the last truly unselfish players have been eliminated, things are gonna get ugly." All the contestants jaws dropped in protest against his statement, but he continued anyway: "...next time on... the Ridonculous Race!"
"I am not selfish!" Kitty protested off-camera.
"Too late, we cut it," one of the producers said. "That's a wrap for today."
Josée smiled to her partner. "It feels great to be back on top!" Now, however, her smile vanished. "Don't do anything to ruin it."
Jacques scoffed. "We'll be fine, Josée."
"We can't get that cocky," Josée reminded him, "It will be our downfall." They took a bus to the hotel they would be staying at. As Josée and Jacques approached to their hotel room ready to rest for the rest of the day, a voice from behind interrupted them.
"...It felt good to tackle somebody, didn't it?" Josée and Jacques turned around to see that it was one of the producers of the show, giving them a predatory smile - it was too sharklike; far too sharklike - that looked like he was impressed. The glee that Josée and Jacques had felt for winning was weighed down with uneasiness.
"I didn't want to," Josée insisted, lying through her teeth.
"But it felt good," the producer persisted.
...It did. But she wasn't about to let him know that, of course. "I was desperate," Josée snapped quietly. "We don't have to explain ourselves to the likes of - what?" She stopped talking when one of the producers smacked a phone into her hand. "What is this?"
"You tackled someone on television for a travel tip," the producer explained calmly. "The ratings are going to be high. Make a five-minute phone call to whomever you please."
Beat.
"I thought we weren't allowed to make phone calls?" Jacques asked. He remembered reading in the contract that people who did know about the show were allowed to call the contestants, but it had to be to a cell phone that was assigned to each team that a producer had in case an emergency happened; this cell phone must've been theirs.
"You're not. But... considering that you tackled someone... consider this a reward from us."
The implication sunk in.
Josée nodded once. "Merci."
"You have five minutes," the producer stated sternly, but in an undertone. "I'll be timing you. Call in your hotel room, because this isn't exactly allowed. I'll be standing right outside waiting for you to finish."
Josée and Jacques nodded again, shutting the door behind them at an instant.
Jacques looked a little reluctant as Josée already started to dial the number. "Josée, are you sure we want to-"
"Are you kidding?" Josée cut in harshly, bewildered by the stupidity of the question. She pressed the phone to her ear. "Isaac and Fleur promised that they would update us if anything crucial happened, and he hasn't said anything in a week!"
"Maybe that's it?" Jacques said doubtfully, he grew dizzy watching Josée pace back and forth waiting for an answer. "Maybe nothing has happened?"
"It's been a while, something must've happened," Josée insisted, almost a little panicked. She stopped pacing and proceeded to tap her foot impatiently until the person on the other line picked up. Relief flooded through her. "Isaac? Isaac, it's Josée."
"Allo, Josée. How is the competition? They're letting you make phone calls now? I was told I was supposed to call them to connect to you."
"It's going fine so far. And..." Josée hesitated for a moment. "Sort of. It's very complicated and probably won't happen again." Suddenly, she started to fire questions out of desperation: "How's maman doing? Can I talk to her? How is she? Is she-"
"Deep breaths, Josée," Isaac said from the other line calmly, "One question at a time-"
"You haven't updated me about her cancer in a week," Josée hissed angrily. "I have a right to be worried-"
"Of course you do. I'm not saying you don't, it's that nothing drastic has changed," Isaac explained, as if Josée didn't use a nasty tone to him. "She's been... she's been sleeping a lot more lately, that's the only thing." Josée's heart sank to her stomach, a nauseous feeling much like yesterday enveloping her, and felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Josée? Are you still there?"
"...O-Oui," Josée stammered a little. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her partner looking at her with concern, but she ignored him. "Are you sure there's nothing else? Has she mentioned me at all lately?" Suddenly she felt her hand being squeezed by Jacques. "Does she talk about me?"
"A little bit, oui." Josée let out a gasp and gripped onto his hand desperately, waiting for Isaac to continue: "She talked to me a bit about how you started learning how to skate all those years ago."
"R-really?" Josée exhaled the breath she held, letting a few tears slip down her cheeks. Jacques rubbed his thumb along her hand. "That's... that's great." She cleared her throat, realizing that her time was going to be up soon. "So nothing's really changed? Except for her sleeping a lot?"
"That's right."
"...Okay," Josée replied, feeling a little doubtful - something seemed off. "Please update faster, on anything. The slightest of all changes-"
"I will, Josée," Isaac reassured her. "Good luck on the competition."
"Merci... tell maman I called, and that... that I miss her so much."
"Of course, Josée. Au revoir."
"Au revoir."
She hung up. Her mother was sleeping a lot more, Josée kept repeating in her head. What did that exactly mean? Could that mean her mother was getting weaker? Her mother hardly slept and liked to work through these, being the workaholic that she was, so this was too strange for her. She wished she could be there, she wish she could see her maman, or just hear her voice-
"Chouchou..." Jacques began worriedly, but to no avail.
Josée wiped her tears away from her face and muttered, mostly to herself: "I'm fine, I'm fine. It's all fine..."
Jacques didn't believe her.
Josée took a breath and opened the door, handing the phone back to the producer. "Merci."
She was about to shut the door, until...
"So your mother is sick, huh?"
Upon hearing that, Josée's eyes widened, and opened the door all the way. She shot the producer a skeptical look. "What?"
"Cancer, is it?" The producer pressed.
...Fuck.
He... he had overheard everything she said.
"Don't you dare pity me," Josée spat at him furiously, and was about to shut the door, but the producer blocked it with his foot. "I don't want anyone to know! We have a reputation to uphold! You're not going to give us some tragic story, we have to smile for our fans! We-"
"Don't worry. No one will know," the producer interrupted, then added: "Perhaps we could even help."
Josée raised an eyebrow. "I told you we don't want your pity-"
"Oh I assure you, it's not pity," the producer said, "How about a quid pro quo?"
"What does that mean?" Josée asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"I help you, and you'll help us," the producer said.
Jacques, who had been quiet the entire time, glared at the producer. "If you try anything funny, I swear I'll-"
"Oh, nothing like that," the producer reassured, calm as ever. It irked Josée and Jacques immensely, "Maybe if you take us up on our offer, you can get a phone call everyday to check up on your sick mother."
Beat.
"GET FUCKED!" Josée bellowed angrily, her eyes flaring madly as she successfully slammed the door in his face. She felt her breathing grow incredibly shallow with fury, tugging at her ponytail as she began to pace around the room, fighting back a scream. Do these people have any souls? How... how fucking dare they!? She couldn't hear Jacques' pleas of trying to calm her down, she could only feel and see and hear red - which didn't sound logical or possible, but it was hard for Josée to decipher herself. She clenched her fists up, yearning to punch something, to punch someone, to punch that producer like she should've just moments ago.
She wanted to just scream again, she just...
Josée stalked over to the pillow on the bed and pressed it against her face, letting out a muffled scream. It was just so disgusting. The way they were just willing to take advantage like that... it made that nauseous stomach-churning feeling in her stomach return, which did get rid of her anger - which had started to fade, she knew that because she could feel Jacques rubbing her back now.
Also screaming into a pillow usually helped.
...However, the nauseous feeling in her stomach persisted. Josée suddenly shot upright, ignoring Jacques' deeply concerning looks, and made her way out of the hotel room.
"Where are you going? Josée, I don't think you should be alone..."
Josée turned herself around. "I just need to grab something to eat. I'll be back soon."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you-"
"I'm fine." She wasn't. Not in the least, she knew that - but she couldn't let him know. She just needed to relieve this feeling the way she only knew how, and it's not like Jacques would approve. It was the same routine as yesterday night, which she still felt guilty about. She knew what would happen if he found out about her making herself sick - the first few weeks they lived together, Jacques refused to let her use the bathroom after she ate for at least an hour.
Josée wasn't aware of how much she ate, but when she released it all in the bathroom stall, she hardly felt better. She was in the stall for fairly a very long time, or at least what felt like a long time. She desperately tried to throw up even more, but all of the contents had spilled into the toilet already, so that left Josée dry-heaving instead. Her hands gripped the disgusting ends of the toilet as she tried to restore her balance, trying to get back up. Her head pounded, her heart rate accelerated, and she felt worse.
Josée finding stood up, slightly dizzy, and yanked the stall door open and rushed to the sink to wash her hands frantically. Her breathing was still incredibly shallow and the room seemed to be spinning. She blinked a few times, trying to get herself together, and finally looked in the mirror.
Josée froze when she saw Jen looking through the mirror at her with a frightened expression.
"You made yourself throw up," Jen stated at once, it was not a question. Josée didn't move for what seemed like an eternity, but what was just a few seconds. She turned around and faced Jen, taking a breath.
"No, I didn't. I had a stomachache," Josée said in a cold manner. She tried to exit the bathroom and open the door, but Jen slammed it shut before she could exit. Josée was too tired to even feel anger - she was irritated, instead. "Jen, I am an olympian. I am far stronger than you-"
"Not in this state," Jen said sternly. She shook her head. "Don't deny it. You were making yourself vomit. I was listening by the stall-"
"Stalker," Josée spat. "You know that's a crime-"
"You were gagging," Jen interrupted, as if Josée didn't cut her off. "That's not healthy at all." Josée's unfocused eyes landed on Jen's worried ones; she hated that pitying look that she was giving her. She would rather be hated than pitied. "Josée, are you okay? Talk to me-"
Jen tried to lay a hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, but Josée slapped it away. "I don't want to speak to the likes of you," she retorted. "I don't speak to traitors."
Jen didn't address the topic of that. "Josée, I'm serious. This is really concerning." Josée rolled her eyes at that, which Jen caught. "No Josée, I mean it. I'm concerned-"
"Oh I bet you are," Josée sneered. "...concerned on how you'll use this against me."
"I'm not!" Jen shrieked in disbelief. "Are you okay? Are you stressed that you resorted to doing that-"
"Since when is it any of your business?" Josée said bitterly, then went on, ignoring Jen's hurt eyes: "Last time I checked, you were too busy being a traitor. You were too busy having your head in the clouds to even think about us, considering that we offered to help you. We were the sole reason you had gotten that spot despite the promise we made. So now you think you can just waltz in and interfere with my life? No. You lost that chance the moment you made it to the chill zone before us without using your brain."
It was quiet for all of ten seconds, then Jen muttered quietly, "...Does Jacques know?"
Beat.
"No he doesn't," Josée answered, her eyes glowered at the Fashion Blogger, as she said in a low, threatening tone: "And you better not tell him." She waited for Jen to say something, to confirm that she wasn't going to tell, and that she was very well going to keep her mouth shut.
Jen nodded slowly. "Okay," she said softly, still hurt. This time, she nodded more assertively. "Okay."
That was all Josée needed, before she slipped out of the bathroom.
Josée and Jacques knew that after that incident in Brazil that they would have to keep up appearances, and that they couldn't let what happened bother them. Jacques had been especially worried, with the way Josée had been unusually on edge since their encounter with the producer, and with the way they had gotten the phone call regarding her mother's condition. They had to put all of that behind them; they were the first ones to leave. Despite their animosity toward the production crew, they had to be all smiles - it wasn't for them, after all, it was for their fans that were watching back home.
"We've won gold for the second time, today we'll use our lead to widen the gap even more!" Josée gushed at the camera.
"We'll move so fast that we'll lose our camera crew," Jacques chuckled. None of the producers nor the camera crew found this amusing.
"Then we'll slow down so they can catch up," Josée said, then added: "Because our fans deserve to see us perform!"
Jacques and Josée ran to the Don box and the former slammed the red button and read the travel tip. "Make your way to Dracula's castle in Transylvania?" Both he and his partner winced uncomfortably. It gave them the creeps, understandably. "Teams must travel to Dracula's castle from shuttle bus to airport to receive your next travel tip."
"This shuttle bus will take you to the airport," Don said.
"First place, first place, first place!" Both ice dancers chanted happily to the cameras. Finally, they would have some leeway - hopefully they could take gold again this time. They settled into their seats in the middle of the bus. Josée reached into her skirt pocket and took out bun-bun and kissed it. Jacques resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he knew that Josée did have an attachment to her rabbit's foot that was far beyond her superstition, but it took all his strength not to comment about it.
It didn't matter right now, though. They were on the way to first place.
...If only the stupid shuttle bus could move already.
But then the strangest thing happened. A few teams began to arrive, on the same bus as theirs, including the teams that had been in the lowest placings - excluding the team that got eliminated, of course. They cheered and took their seats happily while Josée and Jacques exchanged a confused look. Then they looked out the window to see that all the teams were lining up to get on the same bus. Josée and Jacques gasped in utter disbelief; they thought that they were going to be the only ones, or at least that there would be only a few more teams!
When nearly everyone was on the bus, Don explained: "Originally, there was going to be three different shuttle buses departing at different times on the way to the airport, but for some reason the producers decided at the very last minute to put all fourteen teams on the same bus, so it could be anyone's game, you just have to catch the first flight."
The producers.
The fucking producers.
Jacques looked shocked, and Josée did too because both of them had realization dawned on them in that moment, it had clicked and made perfect sense based on the events of yesterday, with Josée's hostility toward the producers. Josée and Jacques looked at each other with the same thought.
They did this on purpose.
Had it been any other team, this wouldn't have occurred. Jacques refused to believe otherwise, and he was certain his partner felt the same. This was what they got for going against them, and the message was abundantly clear - they could make the game just as hard as they could make it easy for you. They were in full-control of how this show ran, and there was hardly a thing Josée and Jacques could do about it.
Naturally, of course, the producers called them down to talk about it for an interview, asking for how they felt. Jacques rolled his eyes bitterly; he understood it all too well. He heard them loud and clear - they weren't to be messed with, and Josée's outburst against one of the producers was taken very seriously.
They knew exactly how they fucking felt. But sure, he'd play their little game, so they could just eat it up...
"We are disappointed," Jacques began sternly, glaring at the producers momentarily before turning to the bus. He took a mental note of Josée walking off-camera, he already knew where this was going, unfortunately. "It seems all the other teams are taking the same bus!"
"Agh!" Josée let out a mix of a scream and groan as she threw various items from the camera crew. Jacques ducked nervously and looked over to the side as she continued to throw things, and then proceeded to punch while the screams mixed with groan persisted.
Jacques crossed his arms and briefly looked away from his partner to see the camera crew glaring at him, as if they asked him to make it stop. Part of him wanted her to continue just to get a rise out of them, but he just couldn't. "Ah, Josée will be okay. She'll rage herself to sleep." He knew damn well they didn't care if she was okay or not.
But he was right, soon after he said that, Josée started to grow drowsy after destroying many items. Jacques raised a shocked eyebrow, it usually wasn't this quick that she would fall asleep after a tantrum. Perhaps she was just tired and didn't get enough sleep? Nonetheless, he walked over to see her sleeping soundly on the ground. One of the producers showed up with a spray bottle with the intention to wake her up.
Jacques wouldn't have it. He smacked the spray bottle out of his hand. "Don't you dare," he spat bitterly. The producer backed off as Jacques knelt down beside her, tucking one hand under her knees and using his other hand to hold her back, lifted her, and carried her all the way back to the shuttle bus.
He was met with stares from the other contestants. Jacques, who still had Josée in his arms, ignored them and made their way to the only remaining seats on the shuttle bus, which just so happened to be in front of the Fashion Bloggers.
Jen peeked over their seat from behind them. "Is she okay? Did she faint?"
Jacques blinked at the concern she was showing. "She didn't faint," he stated coldly, then shot her a skeptical look. "Why would she?"
There was an unreadable look in Jen's eyes that Jacques couldn't decipher; it made him unsettled. She shook her head slowly. "Because... well... I don't know." She sat back down in her seat meekly. "Nothing..." Jacques huffed and crossed his arms.
"Stupid show..." Josée mumbled in her sleep, "Gold medal..." She remained asleep for the rest of the shuttle bus ride.
Despite the producers meddling, Josée and Jacques managed to get on the first flight. Soon enough, they were in the air and headed to Transylvania. Both thought this was going to be a quiet trip to there, that was until the cadets voices from an interview cut through.
"We did really well on the first couple of days, but at the last two chill zones we came in eleventh and thirteenth," Sanders explained.
"But we got ourselves on the first flight today so we're back in kickin' butt mode!" MacArthur exclaimed.
Jacques noticed his partner sulking in her seat immediately after hearing that. "Josée? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Josée said, far too irritably. "I just want to win, which won't happen if we get distracted!"
Everyone arrived in Transylvania and stopped outside to see that it had started thunder storming, following a heavy amount of rain. Up ahead was Dracula's castle, which they realized they would have to run up a hill in order to get to. Once they started, they were doing fairly well - at least up to other people's standards, because the were still behind the Goths who were faster. Josée and Jacques made a mental note that they really should be on the look out for those Goths.
But then the Cadets started to speed up.
"Move it!" MacArthur ordered to Sanders, passing Josée and Jacques. Josée frowned deeply upon seeing this. The fact that the Cadets could easily go from the almost worst to almost first irked Josée, and well... those cadets had been getting on her nerves way too much.
Maybe just this once, oh, it would be so satisfying...
"Oh sorry," Josée said, in a faux-sweet tone to Sanders as she tried to catch up to her partner, "I didn't see you there!"
And smacked her down to the ground.
The moment she did that, Josée felt good. It finally felt good to knock down one of those cadets, for once. Though she could hear Isaac in the back of her brain telling her to steer clear of the other competitors, she didn't let it override it - and let her anger go into one single smack against someone.
This only lasted for a few seconds, as MacArthur had realized what happened and tackled Josée and Jacques in the mud. She watched in horror as she was held down while other teams ran ahead. She let out a frustrated groan. "You are making us fall behind!"
"Then let go!"
"You first!"
"Ha! Never gonna happen."
"MacArthur, let's just go!" Sanders called out. "We're not going to get in the bottom three again because of them!"
MacArthur reluctantly let go of the ice dancers and glared. "See you later silver streak!" Then they started running again. Josée's eye-twitched furiously. MacArthur knew exactly what to say to rile her up - by bringing up the olympics. Nonetheless, Josée and Jacques ran up the hill and eventually got to the Don box, to which Josée took the tip from.
"It's an all in," Josée began, reading on: "Teams must enter Dracula's castle and find an empty coffin. Whoever took the tip from the Don box must then drag the coffin... with their teammate inside and tip it into an open grave. Complete this task to get your next tip from the local grave digger." Normally Josée would feel a wave of relief finding out that she didn't have to be confined to a small space, but her anger at the cadets had not yet diminished; especially regarding the comment referring to the olympics.
When Jacques stepped into the coffin, Josée didn't waste anytime. She would show them who's silver streak, and it wasn't her! Josée aggressively ran with the coffin, flipping it each time with a thud followed by a series and groans and complains from Jacques. She wouldn't hear it, she refused to hear him complain. When they got to the grave, Josée spotted another team that wasn't on their flight. "Huh? Weren't you two on the second flight?" The other teams were watching up already?
"Who are you talking to? Agh!" Jacques let out a screech of anguish as Josée pushed his coffin inside. He groaned and got up, pointing. "Is that the grave digger?"
The thunder roared.
"Well he isn't the ice cream man!"
After the team Josée spoke to got their travel tip, theirs was next: "Ride on horseback to the Romanian gymnastic training centre and find the Don box," she read aloud. Before she and Jacques could go on the horses, the producers stopped him about the incident regarding the coffin, which Jacques was still in pain from.
"I know it's a race, but the way Josée was moving that coffin... I was going to end up covered in bruises!"
Josée held back a laugh; he had such a nerve to complain. "You mean, like, if someone held you above their head and then dropped you on the ice face-first in a stadium full of people, on the most important day of your life?" She was smiling and put her hands on her hips. "That kind of covered in bruises?"
"Okay first of all, it was only your face-"
"Be quiet, Jacques," snapped Josée, forcing a smile to the camera. Jacques bit his lower lip; the constant mention of the olympics incident from the other teams and the producers had started to get to her. After the interview, Josée and Jacques hurried and got on the horses to catch up to the other team.
Josée and Jacques made it to the gymnasium, passing straight past the other team, and stopped in front of the Don box. His eyes gleamed over the travel tip that popped out in joy. "It's a botch or watch." He let out an excited squeal. "Ah! Gymnastics!" Both him and Josée chuckled, because they knew that they had this in the bag. "Whoever didn't face the bullet ants in Brazil must perform two gymnastic feats."
Josée cut in, realizing this was for her to do. "First, walk a balance beam and land a split jump at the centre. Second, complete a flip over this vaulting horse. Get a thumbs up from the local judge, and it's a race finish to the chill zone." Josée threw the tip and ran inside; there was hardly any time. This challenge was theirs.
Jacques watched in awe as Josée kissed her rabbit's foot before completing the challenge, but let's face it - Jacques knew she really didn't need bun-bun. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she gracefully and with ease performed those moves. He knew that she felt immensely better after finishing it. They received the thumbs up from the local.
"Hello first place!" Josée and Jacques gushed, while running off-camera. The producers had stopped them for another interview.
"Of course I'm good at gymnastics, it's a lot like ice dancing, only in our sport you wear knives on your feet and there's no soft padding to land on if you fall." Josée turned to Jacques and smiled widely. "Just a rock-hard layer of solid ice."
Jacques let out a groan and crossed his arms. "I said I was sorry!" Josée refused to speak, instead she smiled at the camera. The production crew signaled that their interview was over and that they could make their way to the chill zone.
Don seemed a little surprised, "Ice dancers, you're in-"
"First place!" Josée interrupted happily, then jumped up in the air and cheered. "Woohoo! Still the champs!" Even with the producers trying to get in their way, they still managed to take the gold. Jacques chuckled excitedly and waved at the cameras, with Josée doing the same.
"While that's great," Don began, frowning a little. "Please don't interrupt me."
"Je suis désolé," Josée allowed, still unable to hide her smile. She and Jacques moved away to make room for the other teams on the chill zone. After them, the Reality TV Pros came in second place. Josée smirked from the side; they got silver, and the Sisters followed with bronze. That team from the second flight that Josée had talked to came fourth, and that team that looked like mother and daughter came in fifth.
Then the Goths came up next, but they had received a ten-minute penalty. Josée lifted a brow, perhaps their high streak had ended. Instead of the Goths getting sixth, the Father & Son team got it instead, followed by the Cadets in seventh. Although seventh was an embarrassing placing in her opinion, Josée didn't like how the Cadets easily jumped from thirteenth to seventh - it was far too good. Also MacArthur's teasing still lingered in her mind. The Surfers and the Rockers were eighth and ninth respectively, and the Best Friends were tenth.
Realization dawned on Josée and Jacques; not because of the teams that had arrived, but there were three teams that hadn't arrived. Other than the Goths, the only teams that were left were the Fashion Bloggers, those twins, and the Daters. Josée vaguely remembered that Tom was clumsy, but then she wondered why she cared so much.
Soon enough, the twins came in eleventh.
"Merde," Jacques muttered to himself.
"Goths, penalty is over. Twelfth place," Don announced, the Goths appeared less than enthused. Then, the next team arrived. "Thirteenth. You're still in the race." That team that made it wasn't the Fashion Bloggers, whom were the last to make it to the chill zone. "I'm sorry, you're out."
For some reason, this shocked the ice dancers. Although they expected the Fashion Bloggers to be eliminated, it was still so surreal - with the way they interacted with each other in their hotel room, they didn't seem like competitors. That was until they betrayed them, of course, but... it still saddened Josée and Jacques, at least a little bit. At this point, the filming had wrapped up for today - other than the interview that Tom and Jen were giving right after their loss, Josée presumed.
Josée grew mad. She didn't like feeling so upset that they were leaving, because she still felt betrayed, and she shouldn't be upset over a team being taken down. It's like her maman told her, everyone was out to get her - these people were their enemies, and her enemies were taken out! Why wasn't she happier over it? It just made her furious.
Then Josée couldn't help herself. She marched over to the Fashion Bloggers, who were walking alone - they had been swarmed by bats earlier, who were shooed away - and called out their names in the distance. Jacques looked at her, startled that she would do such a thing.
"Josée, what are you doing? We have to take the shuttle bus to the hotel with the other teams," Jacques whispered from beside her, but Josée didn't listen. She kept her eyes on the Fashion Bloggers who were walking toward them.
"So how did you lose?" Josée asked. The air was gloomy and eerie. Jacques glanced over to see teams were starting to make their way to the shuttle bus.
"Gymnastics isn't Tom's thing," Jen supplied quietly, furrowing her brows. "How come?"
"I'm merely curious," was Josée's simple answer. "So it was your partner's doing."
"Yes, but that's okay," Jen reassured calmly to Tom who looked guilty, then turned back to the ice dancers. "Our friendship is stronger than ever after this."
Josée blinked slowly; how on earth could Jen forgive him? Tom was the sole reason they lost. Never mind, that didn't matter anymore. The Fashion Bloggers were out of the competition, they were just another team. Josée wasn't here to make friends, yet that ache in her chest persisted. But she could easily detach herself from them. "Fine then."
"If that's all..." Tom began hesitantly, turning to Jen who's eyes had grown solemn. "Jen?"
"No, no, no..." Jen started to mumble nervously, shaking her head. "I can't do this." Josée and Jacques lifted their eyebrows in confusion. Jen's eyes moved from Jacques, to Josée, and then she turned to Tom. "Can you wait over there?"
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"
"Just please, I'll meet with you soon." He looked between the ice dancers and his partner worriedly, but nodded in understanding and left. Jen took a few shuddering breaths and faced the male ice dancer. "I didn't want to do this with Tom here, I... I hadn't even told him."
Josée's heart stopped in realization, her eyes wide.
"Jacques, there's something about your partner that you need to know."
No...
She wouldn't...
"I know that it's none of my business-"
"Then why are you speaking?" Josée hissed, in a warning tone, with a hint of desperation. "If it's none of your business, then don't speak."
"Why? What's wrong?" Jacques asked, looking back and forth between Josée and Jen. He looked to his best friend, who's expression grew darker and a bit culpable. "Josée?"
Jen looked at Josée, while still speaking to Jacques. "I heard her throwing up in the bathroom after Brazil. I... I don't know if this happens often, but... it sounded like she was making herself do it. She didn't want me to tell you, but... I can't leave the competition without letting you know that she was doing this to herself. And with the way you guys talk about competition and how important it is to you, I'm worried. I don't know what's going on in your lives, but it seems like she's hurting, no - you both are."
The damage was done.
Josée's eyes shifted to Jacques' nervously, wincing when she couldn't be able to decipher what he was thinking, which was somehow worse than him thinking of disappointment. It was not knowing what could be going through his head that was far worse.
"I'm sorry," Jen said quietly to Josée, like she was ashamed. "I don't want to see you faint on television or get really, really sick-"
Tom had come back. "Jen..." he interrupted softly, nudging her shoulder gently. "We have to go."
The female Fashion Blogger nodded and began to walk alongside him. She turned around one last time to face Josée and Jacques, revealing tears shining in her eyes. "Please take care," her voice cracked. And then they were gone. Josée and Jacques didn't know how long they had been frozen for. It felt like an eternity. Wordlessly, the both of them made their way back to the shuttle bus - the entire ride was completely silent in the worst way possible - now they couldn't even enjoy their win, but for different reasons.
The hotel was an entirely different story.
Jacques was the first to break the silence; that was after seeing his partner pace back and forth frantically in frustration. "Josée, I'm really concerned-"
"Oh concerned? That's a funny word; concerned. It just seems that everyone's concerned, aren't they?" Josée began to ramble, placing her palm on her forehead. Jacques was getting dizzy watching her as she laughed hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. "Concerned, concerned, concerned..."
"You haven't... what is the word... relapsed... in a while," Jacques said, his voice quivering just a little. "I am concerned-"
"JUST LEAVE IT!" Josée shouted angrily at him, stopping her pacing at once, "For the love of gold, just leave it!"
"This is your health, Josée!" Jacques shouted back at her, tears forming in his own eyes. He took several breaths again, trying to calm himself - one of them had to be calm here, and it looked like it was going to be him. "You promised you would tell me whenever it started to get bad again, and... and to have to hear it from that traitor and how worried-"
"Oh what?! You think Jen did that to be a good person?" Josée cut in sharply. "To save me? To be nice? Because she was worried?" She rolled her eyes. "No. She did it because she lost the competition. People don't tell you things unless there's something in it for them. All of them here... they're awful. It's like Leo and Liv said-"
"Since when do we listen to Leo and Liv?" Jacques interrupted bitterly.
"You clearly have been," Josée pointed out. "You think I haven't noticed you've picked up smoking again? Because if we're on the same page of returning to bad habits, you have an awful lot of explaining to do." Jacques knew he didn't have a comeback for that. "But you can't deny... that fighting back helps. Notice how when we fight back we win, but when we help others, like we did in Iceland, we lose?" Jacques didn't deny it as she went on, mumbling a little more: "It's fine now, though, it's fine. We're on a winning streak, and we intend to keep it that way."
Jacques nodded a bit. "But Josée..." he gave her a knowing look, "You know I'm going to come with you again when we have meals."
It was inevitable. Josée sighed. "Okay." Jacques wrapped his arms around her frame and brought her into a hug. "I'm sorry I was mean to you," she muffled into his chest.
Jacques kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry for shouting, chouchou. But hey..." he pulled aways slightly so he could give her a little grin. "We are going to win, oui? Like you said." He gently tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. "Champions must preserve, non?" Josée let out a small smirk and nodded. She hugged him back, just as tightly.