(The Canada Club; Thursday, June 9, 2016; 9:27 PM)
Unce unce unce!
Unce unce unce!
Unce unce unce!
As the music from the DJ roars in the club, Josh seems to be showing emotions that are the exact opposite of the dancers. He's sitting at the bar, in deep thought as he stares down at the counter. He ignores everything around him - the drunk folks, the sports games that are playing on TVs in the corners, even the scuffle near the entrance that would normally catch his interest. At least he's dressed appropriately - in a suit with a red bowtie.
"Another fight with her?" A voice asks. He looks up to see a bartender. Bart Tanner, to be exact. Josh accepts a shot of alcohol - vodka with a hint of lemon.
"Three fights." He holds up three fingers and puts emphasis on the number. A sigh before downing the entire shot glass. "And they were long and petty…"
"As usual." Bart finishes for him. Also sighing, but from seeing him in a depressive state, he turns to organize his station. Just a simple rearrangement of utensils and glasses. "Well hun, my advice to you will always be the same: cut her off."
Josh looks up at him, frowning. "You make it sound so easy."
A shrug from Bart. "Cos it is. She's toxic and in need of therapy- wait, scratch that, therapy ain't gonna fix her." He shakes his head before noticing his regular's frown widen. After a quiet deep breath, the bartender goes into nurture mode. "Look, Josh, I get that she's done a lot for you, but she's also done a lot to you, especially recently. That ain't good for your mental health and looks, hun." As if to prove his point, he gestures to Josh's gray strand of hair. So not good, even if the rest of his hair is black.
"But like, I can't just… unfriend her." Josh downs his second shot glass. He thinks about the scenario of him cutting her off and shakes his head. Unimaginable. Then another sigh from him. "I know our friendship has always been… unhealthy to say the least, but I know she's a good person at heart." A small smile on him now. "Plus, she's been dealing with her ex recently… what, with so much focus on him and that new show he's gonna host." The formal dressed man has a look of disdain upon mentioning her ex-boyfriend.
"Total Drama?" Bart guesses for the aforementioned new show.
A nod of confirmation from Josh. "That's the one." He raises a brow a moment later. "How did you know?" Receiving a third shot glass, he again downs all of the alcohol from it.
"You know me, hun." Bart gives him a bit of an amused look. "I'm always up to date with the celebrity news and gossip." The bartender glances to his left and right to see if anyone else requires assistance. Seems like all of the bartenders and customers are handled.
Josh does an internal facepalm. "Right, right." He chuckles. "Sorry, it's hard for me to think straight when I'm stressed." It seems like he's cheering up a bit.
"Nothing straight about this club either." Bart adds, alongside a chuckle. But when he sees Josh's smile shift to a frown again, he scratches the back of his head, sheepish. "My bad. Just tryna lighten up the mood." He swears it couldn't have been offensive, but he decides to not bring it up and risk making it worse.
"I know…" Josh still gives him a small yet grateful smile. He takes a deep breath before downing his fourth shot glass. "I'll try to have fun tonight, but don't be surprised if I choose to leave early." The formal dressed man glances at the dance floor.
A nod of understanding from Bart. "Nothing wrong with that. Some nights are just better than others." He gives him a small yet warm smile. "Good luck, hun. I'm always around if you need to talk." After patting Josh's shoulder, he takes the shot glasses and washes them.
Josh returns a small yet warm smile. "Thank you, Bart." Then he places a crisp twenty dollar bill on the counter. "Here. 20 dollar tip. Just for putting up with me and my problems." He slides it forward, should Bart reject the money for whatever reason. "I know it's probably exhausting to deal with people trauma dumping on you." A chuckle from both men.
"Oh trust me, hun. I've dealt with worse. At least you ain't drunk and flirting with me every second." Bart shakes his head from that thought as he takes the twenty dollar bill. "But the tip is appreciated. Now go on." He gestures to the dance floor. "Dance and mingle your stress away." With that, he starts heading to another person - a new arrival.
This leaves Josh by himself, staring at the hyped crowd. He takes a deep breath as he adjusts his bowtie. After a few seconds of internal motivation, he forms a determined expression and starts heading to the dance floor. "Alright. Just don't think about her… don't think about her." He'll keep muttering this all night if he has to.
Because right now, he should be having fun.
(Blaineley's House; Friday, June 10, 2016; 2:09 AM)
A scream from Blaineley in the middle of the night - around two in the morning - as she jolts awake and pants. Now sitting up, she frantically glances around. Once she realizes she's in her bedroom, she calms down a bit. "Fuck…" She curses, still somewhat on edge as she wipes off the sweat on her forehead. "Fuck, not again."
She groans into her hands. "Somehow it's the same goddamn nightmare. That bastard… why the hell is he back on the news again?" The nightgown woman glares at the ceiling.
About a moment after storming out of her room, she returns with a bottle of wine and a large wine glass. She grabs her phone and calls Josh. After a few seconds, she hears a slurred man from the other end. "Hello…" It's him, most likely having woken up just now.
"Wake up." Blaineley demands, then hearing shuffling noises from his end. Like a blanket being tossed or him sitting up on his bed. "It happened again."
After a few seconds, she hears his voice again. "A nightmare that involved-"
"The exact same one from yesterday." Blaineley interrupts and confirms. She pours some wine into the glass before sipping it. "I don't know how. I've always believed you never have the same nightmare twice!" Another sip, bigger than the last one. "But there were no differences! Me getting tied down to a bed, him laughing like an evil cartoon villain-"
Her grip on the glass tightens as she takes another sip. "Even the women were the same!"
"I believe you, I believe you. Just take a deep breath and relax." Josh assures and advises, giving her a moment to calm herself. She downs the entire glass before pouring more wine. He continues. "It's just you and your endless collection of wine. He's never going to come near you." The nightgown woman glances at the framed pictures of herself. Framed pictures of her over the years since childhood. Just to remind herself that it'll be okay.
"I'm not worried about that. I know he would never dare come near me." Blaineley states with confidence. She frowns. "I'm worried about him taking that new show and beating me again. Do you know how fucked it'll be if he beats me in the ratings again?" Her volume is increasing again, albeit slowly. "Imagine losing to someone you hate twice."
"I doubt it'll beat Celebrity Manhunt-" Josh tries to assure her.
"I'm sure it will!" A sudden shout from her. She grits her teeth before drinking more of her wine. "It might not be soon, but all it takes is years of him spouting bullshit and acting like Prince Charming to his braindead fans!" Once she finishes drinking all of the wine again, she slams the bottom of the glass on the top of her drawer, cracking it a little. "I can't believe he's still relevant after all the shit he's said and done-"
"Then why don't we just make sure he can't host?" Josh interrupts with a suggestion, his tone now a bit stern, as if he's started to get fed up. She doesn't notice.
Blaineley raises an intrigued brow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, we make sure someone else hosts." Josh elaborates. Almost instantly, she smiles and thinks to herself as she listens to him. "So as long as we don't hospitalize him or ruin other people's lives." Her smile diminishes. "Cos the last thing we need is-"
It's her turn to interrupt. "No no no. What do you mean 'we' make sure?" Emphasis on the "we" as she glares at her phone. She takes a quick moment to calm down. "Because this is an amazing plan; I'm just not interested in doing the dirty work."
She swears she can hear a faint sigh from him, but decides not to say anything about it. Not when a good plan being executed is on the horizon. "You don't have to. You're not going to." Josh promises, pausing after to find the right words. Then a more audible sigh from him, followed by a yawn. "Just… let's talk about this tomorrow."
Blaineley frowns, annoyed that the conversation will have to end before the best part. But she relents. "Sure. Rest well, Josh."
"You too." She hangs up and lies back down, staring at the ceiling. Contrary to before the phone call, she seems to be excited for tomorrow. A hopeful smile is plastered on her face.
She's unable to sleep because of him, but now, for a different reason.
(Chris's House; Friday, June 10, 2016; 12:30 PM)
The house of Chris McLean is as luxurious as it can get for a B-list celebrity. He's living a lifestyle many would kill for. At the moment, it's the afternoon. He sits at his fancy table in his fancy dining room, having lunch with the man sitting across from him: Chef Hatchet.
"What the hell's wrong with you, boy?!" Chef glares at his friend, resisting the urge to slam his fist on the table. "You broke up with her over that?!" His anger increases from seeing Chris' lack of care in his expression. So damn callous.
In response, Chris only raises a confused brow. "Yeah? What's wrong with that?"
Chef blinks, having to do a double take at that response. For a bit, he's sure his friend is messing around. "Do I need to spell it out?" No change of expression from Chris; he's as serious as the big man feared. "You dumped her over a tooth gap!"
Again, Chris raises a confused brow. "So? A tooth gap is disgusting." A sigh from him upon seeing Chef's disapproving face not changing. "Imagine this, Chef. It's the morning. It's a new day, the future is bright, and life is good." He takes a bite of his food. "Then when you turn to the love of your life to greet her with a gentle 'good morning' and a charming smile, she smiles back to reveal a hole in the middle of her teeth." The handsome man shudders, trying not to think about the tooth gap. "Morning ruined!"
"Not for me, dammit!" Chef retorts, slamming a fist on the table. He points a fork at his friend. "Unlike you, I would do something normal called: ignoring it!" Then he crosses his arms. "But if it bothered you that much, why didn't you pay to get it fixed for her?"
Chris gives him a deadpan look. "Do I look like her dad? I spoil, not solve." He takes another bite of his food, ignoring Chef's shaking fist, like before an older sibling punches their younger sibling for being a brat.
"Solving each other's problems is a damn part of a relationship!" Chef continues to shout at him. But then he pauses. No way can this man's logic be this ludicrous. He takes a deep breath. "Pretty boy, you better not be fucking with me right now!"
"I'm not. I don't regret dumping her over that." A sigh from Chris after seeing his friend remain angry. Now he has to calm him down lest Chef does follow through on throttling him. He drinks his water. "But if it makes you feel better, I let her down gently. And trust me, I could've been harsh about it." Emphasis on the "trust me".
"That would've been better." Chef mutters. He prepares to counter again, but decides against it. Not worth getting into a debacle with a stubborn man over something minor. Agree to disagree, as one would say. "Just eat your damn food." Ironic, considering that Chris has made more progress in eating his meal than him.
As the two eat their food in long awaited silence, it doesn't take long for Chris to spark up a new conversation. "So I had a nightmare last night." Chef raises a curious brow. "But get this; it was the same one from the night before. Same everything, dude!" The big man frowns, knowing what his friend is talking about.
"The one about her?" He shakes his head. "Nah man, that's impossible."
"That's what I thought at first. But then, it all happened." As Chris recalls his dream from last night, he makes sure to add some flare for dramatic effect. "The same moment of being tied to a chair, the same annoying laugh from her - like a cartoon villain, and even the men that were beating me all looked the same!"
Chef stares at him, then blinks a few times. Again, he shakes his head. "Seems hard to believe. No dream happens twice." A bit of guilt strikes him upon seeing his friend frown in disappointment. Maybe he should play along, but it's too ridiculous.
Despite this, Chris forms a determined expression. "No, but I'm willing to bet this exact dream will happen again tonight. It can't happen twice, but it can happen thrice." He's sure this isn't a rare coincidence. But before he can continue further, his phone starts ringing. An annoyed and exasperated sigh comes out of him.
But then his eyes widen and a nervous feeling takes over him. It's from a non-contact number, but based on his reaction, he seems to recognize it. He answers before Chef can suspect anything. "Yeah?" A tug on his shirt.
Chef is in deep thought, taking slow yet large bites of his food. "How does pretty boy remember the dream that much?" He murmurs. "I can't even remember a bit of the dream I had last night-" A thud interrupts his train of thought. Turning to Chris with a glare, he spots his phone on the ground, the source of the loud sound. "Dammit, pretty boy! I told 'cha not to hold it with your shoulder!"
But Chris hasn't picked it up. He's staring at the phone, sweat running down his face. The call had ended. His phone screen is cracked. "Chef…" Now that the big man has a better grasp of the current situation, his glaring frown turns into a look of concern. "We have bigger problems than a cracked screen."
Said bigger problems have left him unsure of what to do.
(Infirmary, Camp Wawanakwa; Sunday, June 12, 2016; 1:01 PM)
The medical tent has become the unspoken break area for three interns: Gold Grayson, Nathan DeCourier, and Preston Smokevin. As the scorching heat strikes Wawanakwa, Gold and Preston are sitting across from each other on a bed. Nathan is sitting a bit away from them on the ground, not caring about the filth in the slightest.
Gold turns his head to Nathan. "So, whose side are you on?" His attire is giving obvious formal vibes. Despite the summer weather, he had the balls to wear a suit with a dress shirt underneath and dress pants. The sneakers contrast the formal vibe, but it would be the least unique thing on him. He covers his hands with black leather gloves, as well as his face with a black full face mask, sans his eyes and mouth.
An enigmatic design, all in all.
Nathan gives him an emotionless look. "Neither. I could care less about the situation." His voice is as monotone. One look at him and it's easy to assume that he's done with life, from the bags under his eyes to his messy hair. He wears a simple outfit: a red polo shirt, which is implied to be his uniform, cargo pants with a belt wrapped around it, and sneakers that are almost beyond repair. Dirtied is an understatement.
Touching grass won't be enough to help this man.
"Hasn't it been proven that both were in the wrong? That all of this could've been avoided if they talked it out and moved on?" Preston chimes in, brow raised. As the most muscular of the trio, he seems to resemble Chef's tough and gruff aesthetic. From the military cut to the callous hands, one might assume he's the young and Asian version of Chef. Speaking of chef, his attire is a culinarian classic: a white chef's coat, black chef's pants, and brown kitchen shoes. Surprisingly clean too.
Gold tilts his head, failing to notice Nathan putting on wired earbuds, connected to his phone that's in his pocket. "Then let me phrase it differently: which side was more justified?" A corner of his lip turns upward a little; he's intrigued.
"Both sides were equally unjustified." Preston answers, looking the masked intern right in the eyes. He has a serious expression. "Like I said, both sides went about it in a terrible way. You can't pick a side." His arms cross and he shakes his head.
"I believe you still can." Gold rests his chin on his palm. Another head tilt. "It's hard for me to believe that both sides were equally bad. I'm sure one side has a bit more sympathy than the other in your eyes." He strums his fingers of his other hand on his lap.
Another head shake from Preston. "Nope. Equally unjustified. My answer will remain the same, even if you believe otherwise." Stern and stubborn. "But now I gotta ask you: why bring up something from years ago?" He raises a brow again.
Gold lays down on the bed, staring above. "Just to talk about something interesting." He turns his head back to the culinarian. "And given what's been happening lately, I'd say relevant too." A chuckle from him. "I can't wait to see how this all plays out."
A quiet sigh from Preston. "Hopefully it doesn't escalate. But if it does, then hopefully it's better handled than last time." He frowns, looking outside. "The last thing we need is a bunch of people getting caught in the crossfire."
To that, Gold doesn't respond, continuing to stare above. Preston's attention is now on Nathan, who has been listening to music in silence this whole time. But he doesn't say anything. Several seconds later, he turns his head back to look outside.
However, the silence is broken once Nathan rises to his feet. "You're heading back to work already?" Gold asks, amused. He checks his phone. "There's still thirty minutes left."
Nathan takes off his earbuds and nods. "Yeah. I need to finish my task."
"Not until you meet me first." A voice catches all of the men's attention.
Their heads turn and their reactions range from a raised brow to a sly smirk to a frown. In front of them at the entrance, hands on hips, is Blaineley. Wearing a red dress, she scans the area and the three interns. She scoffs to herself at how shabby the infirmary is.
A quiet sigh from Nathan. "I don't have a choice, do I…" He murmurs, forcing himself to care about what she has to say.
A nod from Preston. "Nice to meet you." He holds his hand out, but retracts it awkwardly after not receiving a handshake from her.
"That is a great costume, Chris." Gold teases, grinning despite her unamused reaction. "I always believed you could pull off the wine aunt look." He doesn't let up, smirking a bit from seeing her eye twitch for a split second.
But she manages to maintain her composure. "An interesting trio we have here…" She mutters, wondering if the other interns are like them. Then she clears her throat. "Let's cut to the chase. As far as Chris is concerned, he's gone. Why? Doesn't matter."
Blaineley crosses her arms, smirking with confidence. "You're all working for me now."
Author's Note: For those who have read my previous draft of this chapter and are coming back here out of possible confusion, your eyes are not being deceived. I have restructured the two chapters to make it look more proper. Meaning the scenes where the contestants are introduced and Blaineley briefing them on the game have been moved to the start of the next chapter. Not that I ever found it weird that the prologue ended after introducing the contestants, but I've always felt like this chapter should serve to only kickstart the B-plot. Other than that, I've made grammatical fixes.
Now for those who are here for the first time and are probably confused by the above paragraph, welcome! This is not my first rodeo, but I'm confident this attempt will be the one where I make it all the way to the end. How am I so sure? Well, because of the Discord community I'm in. The people there motivate me and give me a reason to complete my planned stories. I want to make people happy by telling stories through my writing. Knowing that there are people counting on me, that's why I'm so sure.
Onto the content of the chapter itself, there's not much to say here, other than me hoping you liked the twist at the end. It's why I avoided name dropping the host in the synopsis. Now what's next for me? Well, if you haven't read episode one yet, go ahead and take yourself to the next chapter. After that, I'll complete episode two before switching over to my second story: Wawanakwa Route. It is an SYOC that finished its application process a long time ago, as a head's up, if you were expecting an open spot or canon characters. Then once I complete the first three chapters for that, I'll switch back here. From there, I'll go back and forth between the two stories. Meaning I complete episode three for this, then episode three for the SYOC, episode four here, episode four there, and so on.
If there's any feedback you want to provide, don't hesitate to leave it through the review system or in my inbox. Don't be an asshole, but don't be afraid to be direct and honest. Now that everything has been said, I'll see you in the next chapter! Take care!