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“And they are correct! Red team wins the reward!” The voice of the taller, gentler soul between the two hosts bellows out.
A series of celebrations and self-congratulations can be heard among the whole group. All proud of themselves for doing such a splendid job at obtaining the well-deserved sleeping bags.
It wasn’t easy, not at all. Having to pay attention to small details while going at practically a hundred miles per hour? Couldn’t exactly call it simple.
A win almost flawless, too.
If Spencer hadn’t decided to take over, then Jade would’ve gotten the answer correct instantly and the pressure and tension would’ve disappeared entirely. Not that it matters too much; they all got the reward they wanted and needed.
There was no doubt about it; the red team was going to crush the competition. After winning two challenges in a row, it’s clear the other side has absolutely no chance of turning the tides back the other way.
The situation was perfect for them.
Well, most of them.
Not Diego.
He couldn’t be more upset.
The challenge wasn’t the reason, no. Actually, maybe a little bit. He was happy they’d won, of course! Sleeping bags and a warm, dry shelter. It was either that or be soaking wet for the next few weeks at Disventure Camp.
Maybe it was the looming dread of participating on international TV that made the man nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Having to try and show off your skill and not be boring in front of thousands - potentially millions of people? It’s hard to say Diego lacked nerves.
But that wasn’t the core problem.
That problem resided within his usefulness in the challenge.
Had he done anything bad? No, not really. The issue was that… he hadn’t really done anything at all.
He just sat there and watched as his team did all the work.
Walking back to their shelter was an absolute nightmare for the Colombian Tour Guide. It left him alone with his thoughts, that was never particularly pleasant when he was in this mindset.
It gave him unnecessary and unwanted time to ponder his lack of expertise. How futile he was to the team.
There wasn’t a single thing Diego could pinpoint that he’d actually contributed with besides his strength.
Diego had brawn, yes. You could tell that much just by looking at him.
But that’s it.
Diego felt worse than useless at this point in time. Nothing would change if the world swallowed him up whole, he thought. Fuck, the team would barely notice his departure.
Out of the 18 contestants this season, Diego would placed himself at a comfortable 19th, being outranked by an acorn, probably.
The lack of understanding was taking its toll, too. They won the challenge, and he still feels useless.
After what felt like an hour of walking by himself to the shelter, Diego and the red time ultimately arrived and began setting the sleeping bags out on the floor, readying for a comfortable night ahead.
Diego took to one closest to the door exit, making it a good convenience if he ever needed to leave to use the restroom during the late hours of the evening.
Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, either discussing about how overjoyed they were with the challenge victory, or just mundane bonding that everyone went through in previous seasons.
Diego would love to do so too, but he was preoccupied with his mind that wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Eavesdropping on the other conversations was a much easier feat.
And so, getting comfortable, Diego laid down on his back and nuzzled into the sleeping bag.
He lifted his knee up ever so slightly, resting his left hand upon it. He propped his head up with the other hand, resting his elbow on the ground beneath.
And stayed particularly quiet; a feigned smile on his face to portray casualness.
—
It was late into the evening now, about two in the morning if Diego had to make a random assumption. He’s been to enough places to somewhat recognise a schedule between daylight cycles between annual seasons.
Sleeping was a concept the Colombian’s brain couldn’t seem to make up properly. It’s as if his brain had shut off completely, yet before it shut off, forgot to turn off the rest of his body.
He was exhausted, yet wide awake simultaneously.
It didn’t help that his brain refused to shut up about earlier.
’Why didn’t you help in the challenge?’
’You’re supposed to be the strong one.’
’Do better, idiot.’
And those were some of the nice ones.
Fortunately, his arms were asleep. Otherwise they would be scratching away at each other, a small attempt at a distraction. It only worked sometimes, but sometimes was more than no times.
Comfort would be nice right about now. That usually came from family or friends; Diego had many of those.
He had a lot of support, now that he thinks about it. He would get constant compliments and reassuring words from them in support.
And yet…
He still felt inadequate. Not enough.
He must be ungrateful if he’s receiving all of this help from his peers and surrounding people, yet still feels like shit.
But on that note, he didn’t have a single person out here for him this time.
Diego was never great at expressing his feelings. Thinking them was easy, not that he wanted to. But isn’t it just the most awkward thing in the world when you randomly vent about hating yourself to a stranger? He didn’t know anybody here. There’s nobody he was close enough to for that, yet.
Besides Spencer, maybe.
He’s the only man that Diego’s had proper conversations as of yet. Other ones naturally occurred when they needed, to fill the space. Other than that, nothing special happened between him and any others.
If he was being honest, Diego would say he has a little bit of a crush on the British man. Spencer obviously hasn’t picked up on it yet. He’s actually been rejecting the minor advances the Colombian man has made on him. It can’t hurt to try, though, right?
’You know, maybe some fresh air would do me some good.’ Diego thinks to himself, lifting his hat up off of his face and blinking slowly, adjusting to the darkness.
The dim glow of the carnival lights were illuminating the scenery around, making his job of walking around much easier. He’s now realising he hadn’t actually used the sleeping bag, and idly drifted off to sleep at one point. No matter, though. He’s naturally warm.
Diego stands up off the floor, tiptoeing across the grass floor, taking care to not step on any of the other competitors.
He lifted the flap of their shelter, exiting and taking a deep breath in.
Inhale.
The man pauses, reflecting and blanking his mind for the brief moment of bliss.
Exhale.
Diego legs out the air through his nose, almost like a relieved sigh.
Fresh air was satisfying, but it was even better when you were next to the water. At least, that’s what he thinks. Breathing in the mist of the saltwater was one of the best feelings he’s ever gone through, beaten out by the sensation of eating his mother’s cooking.
Ignoring the irrelevant thought, Diego begins his descent down the gentle hill. It’s an easy journey, only being a couple metres away from the shelter.
Finally reaching the seaside, Diego smiles faintly. He takes off his travel boots, tossing them to the side and letting the sand curl around his toes satisfyingly. This was the kind of feeling he was used to. Solace in the sand.
The Colombian man made his way towards the ocean, sitting down a few feet away from where the tide reached its peak.
The moon reflected brightly against the waves, the crashing sounds deafening despite the tour guide keeping his distance from the water.
It glistened against the stars, which were a surprising sight considering the light pollution the carnival would be giving off from its countless rides and attractions.
Whatever. At least, for now, Diego can get some peace. Some peace and quiet away from the self deprecation in his mind, and have some general calming evaluation.
…
…
…
“Diego, what the hell are you doing out here?” A British accent called out.
”¡Coño!” Diego suddenly exclaims, flinching and whipping his whole body around to face where the sudden sound came from.
The man standing there had tousled black hair, untidy, probably due to just emerging from bed. Last Diego saw of the man, he was sleeping peacefully in his sleeping bag back at the shelter.
”Ah, Spencer. My apologies.” The Colombian man quickly reassures him, chuckling sheepishly at getting so easily scared.
He pats the sand next to him, beckoning the shorter man to sit down and watch the water together. Spencer crosses his arms, rolls his eyes, and then reluctantly placed himself next to the tour guide.
”So… you gonna answer me?” Spencer looks expectantly up to the taller man, and Diego seems taken aback, almost as if he wasn’t expecting a conversation to spark.
”Oh, right. Don’t worry about it, Amigo. Just having a bit of fresh air.” He reassures quietly. Diego had gotten pretty good at masking, though it was much easier when he had two comfort things with him.
Two? He meant one. Just the oceans. Nothing else, obviously.
The British man seemed to accept the answer, however still had a skeptical look on his face.
”So… how about that challenge earlier? Think I did pretty well?” The shorter man says smugly, smirking a little bit. He’d messed up pretty badly at first, but apparently brought back the win. Diego wasn’t really paying attention during the challenge.
”Oh… yes, yes. You did perfect...ly well.” He stutters, quickly saving it.
It was getting difficult to hide the feelings that Spencer immediately brought back, though. Of all things to talk about, and Spencer chose the challenge? Diego wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend he was an ostrich right now.
Although, really, Spencer had a better chance of that. Diego chuckled at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” He asks suddenly, cutting Diego out of his brain again.
”It’s just… why did you come out here? To talk to me, I mean. You didn’t seem happy with me earlier at the rollercoaster.” The tour guide queried with a frown. It was unusual to see Spencer being the one initiation a casual chat. Not that he minded, of course.
”Why were you looking so sad after the challenge?” The British man quipped back, completely disregarding the other’s question.
Oh. Diego hadn’t realised he was being really obvious.
But then he thought about what Spencer just asked, and smiled a little.
Oh. Oh.
“You were… looking at me, then?” The taller man returned the quip, to which the shorter one immediately became defensive. He crossed his arms, looked away, and raised his voice a little bit.
”Oh, shut up. Sue me for being a little concerned.” Diego saddened at his words, but didn’t back down.
”Sorry.” He mumbled. “It’s just… it’s silly. You wouldn’t understand, Amigo.” He replied, trying to get the analyst to back down.
But that never stopped him.
”Try me.” He challenges Diego, surprising the taller man. Diego’s eyes widen, and both men make eye contact. Diego looks away, blushing a little, but that hopefully goes unnoticed by Spencer.
Diego lets out a loud sigh, smiling sheepishly as he admits his problems briefly.
”I just… wish I did more to help in the challenge earlier, you know?” He murmurs, not wanting to say anything too loudly, just in case the people sleeping somehow overheard them.
”Uhh… what?” Spencer asks incredulously. “What do you mean you wanted to do more?”
Diego paused, hoping he didn’t have to drag this out and explain it in so much detail. What if Spencer called him stupid? I mean, it was a pretty stupid issue to have, Diego thinks.
”I just… stood there. Watched as everyone else did the work. A-and in the rollercoaster… I relied so much on you. I was practically useless.” Diego begins to whimper a little as he speaks, clearing his throat to get rid of the pathetic sound. Spencer’s gaze softens a little, but the British man’s voice doesn’t waver.
”I mean… at least you didn’t mess up the challenge.” Spencer chuckled. “I had the flags in the completely wrong order.” He replies quietly, wanting to ease the Colombian man’s worries.
It doesn’t do much, though.
”At least you tried. M-Maybe if I wasn’t so scared of the rollercoaster, then you could’ve remembered the flags better. I mean… we could’ve done so much better had I paid attention myself. Or… or maybe-“
”Diego.” Spencer yells his name, adopting a stern expression. “Chill out.” He speaks again, this time talking a little quieter, but still firm enough to get his point across.
The tour guide falls silent, his lip quivering. He hated how worked up he was already getting over this stupid, pointless issue.
”I’m sorry, Amigo.” He says softly, looking down at the sand and absentmindedly brushing his fingers between the grains. “I just feel so… inadecuado.”
Spencer raises an eyebrow, grumbling a little.
”Diego. I don’t speak Spanish.”
”Oh, right. It means, erm… insufficient. Or inadequate.” He sighs. “Useless.”
That makes the British man fall silent too.
Between them comes a surprisingly comfortable silence. Maybe it’s just because they understood each other; or maybe it’s because they had formed a quick, strong bond with one another.
Diego would like to hope so, but that was wishful thinking. Spencer hated him a couple hours ago. Now should be no different. The British voice then breaks him out of his thoughts again.
”What does Coño mean?” Spencer asks. Diego choked on his spit, surprised.
”¡¿Que?!” Diego exclaims, turning towards the shorter man.
”What’s wrong? Is it, like, a slur, or something?” Spencer smirks, holding onto Diego’s shoulder. It was a strange time to be comforting him from a strange question.
“Just… just ask Google, Spencer.” The Colombian man desperately tried to escape it.
“We’re in an abandoned carnival. With what phone, with what internet?” The shorter man snickers, and Diego’s face flushes faintly.
”T-then… when we all get home.” He mutters. “But not right now.”
Spencer once again smiles, again, smugly.
”Feel better now?” He asks. Diego immediately goes to lie with a ‘yes’, but takes a moment to think. The talk had actually… turned that into an honest one.
”I… do.” Diego replies quietly, looking over at Spencer and finding his little cocky behaviour a little endearing.
The silence falls again. Again comfortable. Again nice. Again peaceful.
It’s as if all their problems and worries had been solved with a five minute conversation. Maybe when Diego left the show, those horrible thoughts would come back. But, Spencer somehow… calmed him for the time being. He liked that.
”Listen,” Spencer begins. “I don’t know what shit you’re going through. But…” He sighs. “I think you’re important.”
Diego swears he felt tears form in his eyes, but he immediately began to blink with more speed to drive them away. He wasn’t about to start sobbing in front of this random man he met on a reality show.
Especially when the cameras could be watching. You can never be too careful with this show.
Spencer stands up, yawning and gives another comforting pat to Diego’s shoulder.
”Who knows? You might even win the deciding point for our team tomorrow.” He chuckles, turning away. “Night, Amigo.” Spencer says playfully, smiling, and returns to the shelter.
Diego couldn’t believe his eyes. Or eyes. Or… anything, really.
He’d heard it countless times before. That people thought he was important, and that he wasn’t a complete waste of space to them.
But… the way Spencer said it. It’s like it came straight from his heart. Straight from a place of understanding and care.
Maybe Diego didn’t do enough in yesterday’s challenge, but…
He can try again tomorrow.
So inadequate. Yet so determined.
”You can do this, Diego.” He mumbles to himself proudly.