Chapter Text
Brian Smith stood before Camp Tipiskaw. Expelling a relieved puff of air, he wiped his forehead clean. “Thank goodness that crazy psycho got eliminated so soon. Dealing with her here would have been such a nightmare.”
Remembering the camera, he composed himself and gave his signature smarmy smirk. “Hey there. Happy to see Camp Tipiskaw again? I know I am.” Clearing his throat, he threw both hands up. “But let's be quick, alright?”
Cut to scenes within the motel.
“Last time, we took a detour to visit those unable to make it this far. But unfortunately, there's not much to mention.” He concluded abruptly.
Off-screen, the cameraman mumbled something. Though indecipherable to those watching, it pissed off Brian, who stamped his foot.
“I said… there's NOTHING worth recapping!” He spat, silencing whoever operated the camera.
Regaining his bearing, the host winked to the lens. “Regardless, time to focus on what's more important. Seven remain, find out who will be voted off next in this episode of…
Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”
___________
Inside the mess-hall, two individuals had conferred over confidential affairs. Until a revelation startled one into springing off his chair.
“I can't believe you actually did that,” John gasped, eyes as wide as saucers, recoiling with trepidation. Even though their boss wouldn't return for another few hours, his pupils fleeted to the doorway. Once sure the host hadn't unexpectedly cut his outing short, his focus switched back to his coworker. “I… promise I won't snitch on you. But do you realize the extreme trouble you'll be in, if the boss finds out?” He admonished.
Witnessing how much her words frightened him, Julia heaved a weary sigh. She didn't regret apprising him of the truth, however. He deserved her honesty, at least. Retaining a collected expression, she nodded.
“I'm aware.” She confirmed, resolute. “But I'm willing to risk it. You saw what his bullshit caused. The state that girl was left in. The least I could do was comply with her request.”
He shook his head, trembling with apprehension. “That's the thing. He's fine with causing something so awful to happen to a contestant! Someone very well-known by the fanbase, might I add! Who knows how much worse he can be toward one of us — interns who'll barely show up in the final cut of episodes, who no one knows?!” His volume rose out of anxiety.
“Brian doesn't scare me,” Julia asserted, hands set on their desk, fingers splayed. She couldn't tolerate anymore of that host's antics. Whether or not they managed to expose him once all was said and done, she refused to let matters proceed according to his desires. “What will he do? Fire me? At this point, that might be a blessing. Besides, the season is almost over either way. Knowing him, he'll remain clueless until weeks after our stints end.” She took a deep breath. “Just… trust me, okay? I swear, I won't let you get dragged down with me if things go south.”
Gulping, John swallowed distressed tears. Perhaps it came down to her simply not needing to spend anywhere near as much time with that sociopath as he had to. Nevertheless, he often wondered whether she grasped the full extent of Brian Smith's depravity.
“I don't want anything bad to happen to you either,” he responded. Retaking his seat, he rubbed his temples, his mind running at several miles per hour. “So, please, don't be so reckless again.” He implored.
Perceiving immense turbulence plaguing her colleague's brain — merely through how his irises appeared unable to remain still, inclined to drift slightly about — Julia exhaled profusely.
“I'll keep that in mind, you have my word.”
___________
“Did you really have to make us relocate to the other tent last night?” Fiore questioned, face tightened with mild umbrage. Unsurprisingly, getting crammed with three others on a single log didn't make for the most comfortable of arrangements. Soon enough, she reckoned this discomfort not worth it, standing up. “You don't need to get so butthurt, you know?”
An azure expanse spanned as far as their eyes could see, its gorgeous visage unblemished. Sunny rays beamed down upon their campsite, providing warmth, yet not to unpleasant levels. Perfect weather, really.
Quite ironic, given discord reigned amongst them. Following last night's blindside on a blindside (truly, how else would one describe that?), friction had only grown. Shaken over how close he'd gotten to saying goodbye, Dan had demanded that both Fiore and Will move to the other tent. He claimed letting the treacherous duo stay would allot them ample opportunity to spy on and sabotage him, Alessandro and Blake. Both his remaining allies, understanding his point, didn't demur.
Right now, Dan crossed his arms with a humph, narrowing his eyes. “After last night? Yeah… no way in hell am I allowing either you or Will to sleep anywhere near me.” He spurned.
The brickhouse winced. “We didn't betray you out of spite…” He murmured apologetically, massaging his elbow idly. Afraid of seeing a certain surfer's reaction, he kept his eyes on the turf beneath his feet. “You told me this was the game we signed up for…” He curled his hands tightly. “We just chose to play it, too…”
Blanching over his own hypocrisy getting called out, Dan found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't exactly refute that argument now, could he? Still, his stressed equated conceding with inviting others to use him as some punching-bag. Backing down was unacceptable.
Clenching his teeth, he shot to his feet. “You know what? I'm not in the mood to hear you.” With that, he flounced off. Exchanging glances, Alessandro and Blake departed after him.
“Ugh, finally,” Grett scoffed, checking her nails. “Dan's whining is really starting to get on my nerves.” Her exacerbated temper was obvious. She loathed that nerd so much.
“It's kind of irritating how sensitive he's acting, especially considering what he did to Ellie,” Tom concurred, still buying that fabricated rendition of events. “Provoking her into accidentally attracting a wolf to her location? That's unhinged. Wouldn't it count as some sort of crime, too? Since it was intentional, and all?” He queried.
Fiore shrugged, smoothly maintaining the pretence. “Considering the host and staff's failure to ensure no wolves were here to begin with hasn't incurred any repercussions, I wouldn't be that shocked.” She reasoned.
Expression hardening, Grett nodded. “Yeah, if all that bastard got was a slap on the wrist, I don't anticipate Dan to be punished much either.” Her audible resentment was completely natural, no feigning required.
“Y-Yeah…” Will stammered with assent. Guilt ate him up inside. Breathing deeply to even his voice, he added. “It's unfair… but it's not like we can do anything about it.”
Eyes glinting with conviction, Grett shook her head. “Oh, we can,” she assured, sneering. “They may have had an idol last night, but it's gone now. As long as Dan doesn't win immunity, it's game over for him…”
Scrunching up his face with slight skepticism, Tom interjected. “And then, you'll agree to vote off Blake, right?” He inquired, just to verify their agreement. Since Hunter's eviction, he felt increasingly isolated, even though he technically remained in the majority alliance.
Rolling her eyes, Grett waved dismissively. “Of course,” she confirmed desultorily. “Once those three are finished, the final three will be ours.” She overlooked her slip-up, but the cop didn't; however, he avoided mentioning it.
—Confessional :Will—
Both hands screening his face, he grappled with remorse. Upholding this charade took an undeniable toll on him. After all, his own elimination had resulted from deception. Despite his recent — and no less unexpected — sort of reconciliation with the perpetrator behind it, that ordeal had instilled an aversion to such tactics in him.
And yet, what had he been engaging in since yesterday?
“I feel terrible…” He whimpered. Reluctantly lowering his hands to his lap, he inhaled and exhaled. “I've also begun reflecting. Since Blake spent his totem on Dan, it's clear he can care for others…” His voice cracked softly. “So… if that's not an issue, was I just… not a good enough friend?”
—Confessional :Grett—
Filing her nails, she kept a poised countenance. Despite that nasty surprise last night, she retained the majority.
“Those three may consider themselves clever, but they made a mistake prioritizing getting rid of Hunter over me…” She voiced ominously. “With Hunter gone, Tom will be forced to rely on us even further. Once we've finished taking out the trio, Fiore, Will and I can team up to guarantee he doesn't win immunity at the final four…
And then?”
Tucking away her rasp, she folded her arms with a smirk.
“Given Fiore's lack of strength and Will's lack of initiative? Nothing will stop me from taking that prize.”
—Confessional :Tom—
“I may not be close with Grett, but she's not someone who'd confound numbers like that…” He muttered, arms crossed. Gaze flicking down, his face soured. “Is there even one person I can trust at this point?”
—End Confessional—
___________
“Blake… I know I've said this already, but what you did last night truly means a lot to me.” The model regarded his surfer companion gratefully.
Rays filtered through foliage, dappling their surroundings. Both headed down the beaten path, pursuing their scraggly alliancemate. Leaves rustled overhead, producing pleasant ambience.
Blake tsked, but his tone showed no real annoyance. “You don't need to keep bringing that up. I wouldn't have even deciphered that abstruse clue without you. Besides, with all three of us staying, the other four may still face friction over who to target.” He made finger-guns at him, winking. “Which we might be able to leverage to our advantage.”
Chuckling fondly, Alessandro nodded. “Funny you mention that. Because it's actually part of the reason I pushed for us to target Hunter over Grett last ceremony — you know, aside from the former's physical threat level.”
The surfer hummed approvingly. “Interesting. Do tell, what exactly do you have in mind?”
Before the model could elaborate, he spotted something purple peeking out from behind a shrub. Halting, he tapped Blake's shoulder, prompting him to stop as well. They instantly identified what they were seeing — the upper tip of a beanie.
Putting a finger to his lips in order to signal the surfer to hush, Alessandro sneakily commenced rounding the bush. The model's falsely predatory gait and hint of danger in his orbs lent him an undeniable charm.
Watching this, Blake pressed one hand against his mouth to obstruct a fond guffaw.
___________
Deep into the woods, Dan ceased his irate march. He clutched his hair tightly, exasperated.
At Ellie, for how much trouble she caused him – from the start, all the way to final nine. Nearly everyone he'd been stuck with throughout the pre-merge phase, for constantly siding with her — their bias leaving him and Alessandro as outcasts. Grett, who would have gotten him ousted last night, if others for that totem. Fiore, Will…
He detested many. Even himself, to an extent. Was something seriously wrong with him? That encouraged such a large amount of people to shun him? Despite his turmoil, he recognized how unreasonable this alienation he experienced right off the bat appeared. Could he truly chalk it all up to assholery amongst the masses? Or did he possess a repellent personality?
Barely discerning a sizable enough rock, mostly shrouded from view by shrubbery, he strode over, plopping onto it. Face buried in his hands, his irritable panting soon faded into light hiccups.
Is this why Alessandro has grown closer to Blake recently? Have I begun turning him off, too? Logic urged him to be sensible. After all, the surfer played his totem on him. So, it wasn't as though he'd been relegated to some third-wheel, right? But why didn't they tell me about the idol beforehand? Recollecting Alessandro's gratitude toward the surfer, Dan conjectured it must've entered the equation in advance.
I was such a nervous wreck yesterday. Why did neither bother to reveal it to me? Was cashing it in for my sake not the original plan?
Tucking his head against his legs, he clasped his arms around them. He emitted nothing beyond shaky breaths, shivering over that occasional chill breeze. Ruminating on everything, his awareness of his surroundings declined — his mind engrossed in its own ponderations.
Therefore, the weight of a warm hand on his shoulder jolted him off the rock. Thankfully, a beefy arm coiled around his waist, preventing him from sprawling across grass. Glancing over his shoulder, he was greeted with a familiar model's apologetic countenance.
“I didn't expect you to react so strongly.” Alessandro hauled his buddy afoot, letting go once sure he'd regained balance. “I'm sorry for that.” He rubbed the back of his head.
Brushing it off, Dan put on a good-humoured facade. “It's fine, really,” he assured. “Just needed some time to cool off.” Averting his gaze, he released a somewhat exhausted breath. “After finally freeing myself from the chopping block I'd constantly been on throughout the team phase, finding myself outnumbered again is so…” He trailed off, groaning.
Crunching from sun-baked leaves drew his gaze over to Blake, who approached both. “Getting double double-crossed does blow, no doubt about it.” He concurred, arms crossed against the back of his head. “But look on the bright side. All three of us are here. We can still turn the tides again.”
Once his eyes alighted upon that surfer, annoyance seeped into Dan's mind. Though petty, part of him wished this moment remained exclusively between two. Another moment, and he caught himself — identifying how overbearing that sounded. Fists clenching, he kept them hidden against his back. Berating himself inwardly, he strained on a sheepish grin.
“Oh, didn't notice you there for a moment.” He remarked, swaying marginally. Cursing himself over harboring such petulant envy — its persistence notwithstanding — he sighed. “Should've told you sooner, but thanks for saving me last night. I would've been a goner, otherwise.”
Uncrossing his arms, the surfer waggled a hand nonchalantly. “Don't need to thank me. Your friend over here has already done that more than enough.” He nudged Alessandro, cracking a teasing smirk. “Besides, I may frequently get egotistical, but even I'm aware I wouldn't survive alone.”
Propping his back against a trunk, the surfer hummed. He deemed withholding information pertaining to that totem's discovery preposterous — it had fulfilled its purpose, after all. Beyond that, he figured fostering trust via transparency was their best bet. Now more than ever, they needed to stick together to advance.
“In fact, you should mostly thank Alessandro over there.” He claimed. “Without him deciphering the clue I got, I likely wouldn't have found the totem.”
Turning his gaze to said model, Dan found appreciation blossoming naturally within. Beaming sincerely, he wrapped his hands around the male. How would he manage without his… best friend? At this point? It went without saying. A much bulkier pair of limbs wrapped around him, returning the embrace.
Crimson tinged Alessandro's cheeks. Though their bond didn't necessitate romance to be meaningful, his heart fluttered from the affection. Just because he knew better than to pursue anything, didn't mean he needed to forgo relishing these tiny instances.
Detecting that blush, Blake repressed a snicker. Someone's enjoying themselves.
—Confessional :Alessandro—
Rather demure, he twiddled his thumbs. “I'm glad Dan's calmed down, at least mostly. I… really care for him, if that wasn't clear enough.”
Another thought occurred. Face falling a smidge, he fished his newly-acquired totem out from his jeans. “Good thing the size of these was reduced so much this season. Storing one of the totems from past seasons this way would've been a massive fail.” His futile attempt to insert levity dissipated swiftly.
“I know how two-faced this looks. Merely hiding the existence of Blake's idol from Dan left me feeling bad already, yet here I am — planning to keep this to myself.” Folding both arms, he let out a frazzled sigh. “I'll just be honest here — I'm nervous. Last night's idol play had likely made the rest warier. The less people know about this, the less we need to worry about accidentally letting slip hints.”
—End Confessional—
Good things always come to an end, however. Loudspeakers activated, blasting an announcement that snipped their contentment.
“Hope you've braced yourselves, or you may fall just short of the endgame.” Brian Smith taunted. “Present yourselves by the clearing in fifteen minutes. Your endurance and honesty are in for quite the trial.”
Apprehension resurfaced, leading the nerd to withdraw. Standing before the other two, he rubbed his elbow, uncertainty washing over his expression.
“There's a lot to worry about.” His mood dampened, Dan surveyed them anxiously. “Even with Hunter gone, it's four against us three. How do we deal with that?” He inquired.
“No need to fret,” Alessandro assured. “The host's words show I was right with my hunch yesterday. And I know just what to do.” Proffering a hand, he winked. “We should discuss it while traveling, so we aren't late.”
Finding that confidence reassuring, Dan held his hand, nodding.
—Confessional :Dan—
Eyes drifting aside, he smirked. “Alessandro's plan has me quite excited.” He admitted. However, his face dropped quickly. “Still, can't say I'm too thrilled about the challenge, despite that.”
—End Confessional—
___________
“Speed it up already!” Brian Smith demanded. “After yesterday's disaster, the least you can do is pick up the slack!” He stamped his foot, countenance contorted into a fervent scowl.
Johnathan grunted. Arms ached tremendously, sweat pouring down his forehead. Perspiration dripped onto his orbs, exacerbating his tribulation. Nevertheless, he was forced to continue dragging sacks into a heap. Not even a single other intern had been tasked with aiding him. In fact, when Julia had attempted to help him earlier, their wretched boss sent her away.
Even so, it didn't satisfy Brian Smith. “You're getting punished later,” he asserted pitilessly.
Seven contestants emerged from the wooded expanse. Their presence precipitated him into shifting gears. Donning his semi-professional front, he cleared his throat and raised both arms theatrically.
“Would you look at that?” He remarked, appraising the cast. “I have to say — quite the unexpected line-up. I mean, no Jake, Alec or even Ally? That's insane! Who do we have exactly? Let's see…”
Assessing them further, he laughed.
“Officer himbo, without his boy-toy.”
Temper flaring upon hearing someone refer to his husband that way, Tom snarled — a vein throbbing visibly on his forehead.
“Mister I'm-scared-of-my-shadow.”
Aware those words were aimed at him, Will wilted. They weren't exactly inaccurate, provided one thought of the brickhouse's past self.
“Hot stuff, who keeps denying the fact he's a natural slut.”
As though struck, Alessandro recoiled — bewilderment overwhelming his senses. A natural what?! Too nonplussed to react, he gaped on. That remark caught others off-guard, eliciting them to exchange glances.
“Slut 2.0 — surfer edition.”
“You're really just attempting to look cool by taking jabs at everyone, aren't you?” Blake retorted, narrowing his eyes. “This isn't middle-school, you know?” He shaded.
Ticked off, the host swallowed a slew of vitriol. Endeavoring to maintain a stylish edge, in spite of how blatantly he was failing, he proceeded with his next victim.
“Who are you again?”
Dan gnashed his teeth, balling his fists. Like getting memed online constantly wasn't enough.
“Overhyped brat.”
Spit landed on Brian's shoe, startling him. Eeping panickedly, he swung his foot about to get it off. Noticing Fiore's defiant pout, the dots connected.
“You little shit! That was brand new!” He cried out. “Do you know how much these cost me?! They were overpriced to hell and back!” Despite his dramatic display, he identified no sympathy across those before him.
“Brand new, you say?” Blake mused. Hands on his hips, he sneered. “Guess we know the difference between them and your quips then.” Ubiquitous snickering flooded this scene.
Rancorous now, Brian Smith turned to the last target. His mind blanked, however — unable to conjure up fitting jabs. Deflating, he huffed.
“And Grett…”
Smugness showing, Grett preened. “Guess I'm simply too good for criticism.” She jested.
Fed up, he merely gestured toward a jumble of poles, helmets and sandbags. Sparks of recognition struck everyone.
“Unless you got dropped on your head as an infant, you should know how this goes. But for clarity — these helmets can tell when you're spouting doodoo-water. For each pile of excrement your filthy lips eject, another weight will be added to your pathetic shoulders.
I'll choose the order in which each of you will get to send someone else a question. If whoever you targeted doesn't spew manure, you'll get the extra weight instead.”
Clasping both hands together, Grett nodded. “Understood.” She affirmed, missing how a pair of luscious lips curved conspiratorially.
—Confessional :Grett—
Studying her nails, she mused. “Of course, morality is another matter entirely.” Crossing her legs, she rested her chin on her palm, her grin growing. “Let's see whether Alessandro and Blake see Dan the same way, once he's unable to hide how he truly is.”
Another detail dawned on her, darkening her countenance.
“However, I have to take him out before he can determine what to expose me for.“ She squinted, shrouding her apprehension with a veil of confidence.
—Confessional :Blake—
Hanging his head, he drummed his fingers over the side of his stump. “Despite our plan, this is still going to suck, isn't it?” He exhaled. “Then again, my nasty deeds were already exposed seasons ago — way before I ever stepped foot here.” He mentioned.
—Confessional :Fiore—
Pouting, she raised an inquisitive finger. “They… do have weights proportionate to my size, right?” She questioned. Her hand fell back to her stump, as she recalled who was hosting this season. “Damn it…”
—End Confessional—
___________
“How the fuck am I supposed to handle this?” Fiore complained, grappling with just the pole on her shoulders. Winces spread some of the others, as they watched her predicament.
Brian Smith tsked. “I don't care. Deal with it,” he instructed bluntly. “If you whine more, you'll get a weight added before this even starts.” He threatened.
Gritting her teeth, she reluctantly capitulated.
Disposition brightening through schadenfreude, the host let out a satisfied breath. Turning around, he scanned the rest of the roster. Expectedly, their own struggles hadn't commenced yet. However, he spotted intriguing tidbits.
Grett had her sights on Dan — and not in a pleasant way, if the vengeful gleam gracing her orbs was any indication. But she remained none-the-wiser to Alessandro's piercing stare. Tom narrowed his eyes toward Blake, who responded with ostensible indifference. And Will's pupils merely darted back and forth, his paranoia apparent.
“Alright, let's be quick about it.” Brian Smith stated. “Grett, Will, Fiore, Blake, Dan, Tom and Alessandro,” he listed. “That's the order you'll be going in.” Slapping both hands together, he chortled. “This will be fun.”
___________
Fluttering its wings, a bird alighted upon a branch, skittering over to its nest. Its kin awaited, chirping once their guardian returned. Their fluffy bodies snuggled close, drifting into peaceful slumber.
This contrasted heavily with what unfolded mere yards away.
Pondering her options briefly, Grett's gaze drifted to Will. The brickhouse continued staring toward a certain surfer, conflict glinting within his pupils. She squinted, orbs flicking between a nerd she loathed and this new possibility.
—Confessional :Grett—
Palms resting on her lap, she rolled her eyes.
“Sure, the goal is to take out Dan as fast as possible. But I have to secure the loyalty of both my main allies first. I feel no concern regarding Fiore's — I've put a decent amount of work on her already, and she came to me to establish the alliance.” Her face hardened. “But Will? He hesitated from the start, and I can see his guilt growing each second…”
Folding her arms, she considered the lens sternly.
“As unfortunate as forgoing this chance to instantly target Dan may be, I need to clinch Will's loyalty…”
—End Confessional—
Blake knew trouble brewed, as Grett cocked her head toward him. With how open she had been concerning her vendetta? Her not singling Dan out meant one thing — a machination.
Feeling Tom's glower boring holes into him, the surfer knew he needed this immunity. Thus, he inhaled deeply, steeling himself.
It didn't prevent her ensuing query from jolting him, however.
“You know, Blake? I saw how closely you and Will stuck together throughout the pre-merge and early merge. But given your buddy here didn't decline when offered the chance to make a new majority without you, I have to ask…
Was friendship really the main thing you sought when first approaching him?”
Blake shuddered. Despite averting his gaze, he could sense the brickhouse's eyes fixating upon him. Numerous memories from early into this competition ran through his mind. Those confessionals wherein he gloated over how foolish and susceptible that well-meaning guy was. How he served as the perfect pawn…
Now? He felt disgusted with himself over those statements he could never withdraw.
Brian Smith cleared his throat, snipping his self-reflection. “We're on a schedule here,” he chided. “You've got ten seconds to answer; otherwise, your omission will count as lying…”
His predicament dawned on him. Even if he refused to respond, it will be obvious. He had no way to win here. Seeming to follow along with his thought process, Grett grinned menacingly.
“Five seconds…”
He gritted his teeth, breath hitching.
Desolation swept over the brickhouse — the truth undeniable.
“One second-”
“No…” Letting this admission free, his head drooped, guilt-ridden. There, he conceded. His light glowed green, affirming his honesty.
Despite incurring two extra sandbags, Grett stood triumphantly, watching emotions surging rampantly through the brickhouse.
—Confessional :Will—
Knees drawn, he pressed his head to them. Shards of destroyed hope racked him, sending tremors rippling across his figure.
“Why?” He wept. “Why did I trust him?” His chest heaved with heartbroken distress.
—End Confessional—
Rivulets flowing down his cheeks, Will barely managed to compose himself enough for his voice to be intelligible. Although facts were inexorable, he couldn't allow the surfer to leave it at that.
“Blake… So, when we met, your first thought was to use me?” He inquired, inadvertently twisting the blade further into the surfer's heart.
Nevertheless, he knew evasion would doom him. Not to mention, whatever bond they had cultivated these past several days was irreversibly razed down already.
Mustering every ounce of courage within him, Blake maintained a level tone. “Yes. With my past history involving Jake exposed instantly, I… needed an easy ally.” His light flashed green, meaning John was forced to haul a sandbag onto Will's bar.
Standing on the opposite side, Tom scoffed. “Of course, anything to stay in the game, right?” He lectured, making the surfer flinch.
—Confessional :Blake—
He ran a hand down his face. “I don't know what's going on. Normally, I wouldn't give a shit about…” He trailed off into a dejected sigh. “But now? I feel like trash…”
—Confessional :Grett—
Rasping her nails a bit, she soon stashed her nail file away. Snapping her fingers, she winked. “Just like that, Will's fully dedicated to our alliance. Time to zero in on Dan.”
—Confessional :Fiore—
“With Blake this distraught, I may as well try and stir up a little friction. I doubt it will work. But then again, failing and falling would mean no longer carrying that heavy thing.” She shrugged. “It's clear I won't win immunity this round, so I may as well skip the exertion. Besides, it will help me confirm the letter was true — don't doubt her, but better safe than sorry.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “And sure, things may go awry, but hey — if anything happens, Grett will get targeted first. And she has both strength and intelligence, and isn't exactly unpopular amongst the others either — so, it wouldn't be too bad.”
—End Confessional—
Craning her head forth to set her eyes on the nerd, Fiore squinted. “Dan, did you leave Ellie to get attacked by a wolf?” She quizzed.
Quivering, Dan nodded. “I-I had to…” He stammered. His response, paired with the green illumination produced by his helmet, prompted Blake to arch an eyebrow. “It was her or me…”
Near them, Tom snarled. “Oh, don't give us that. Didn't you gloat about provoking her into blowing up so the noise would draw the wolf?”
Blinking with astonishment, Dan found himself too gobsmacked to reply. Just… what?
Fiore yelped, collapsing headfirst the second John added sandbags onto her pole. Sprawling on turf, she groaned, massaging her forehead. What a load of crap.
“To no one's surprise, Fiore is the first one out!” The host declared.
—Confessional :Blake—
Legs crossed, he ruminated. “Okay then… Clearly, Fiore asked that in an attempt to stir up drama. But given how little Alessandro reacted, I'm guessing he already knew. And, well, given how Ellie treated Dan, his ‘it was her or me’ comment sounds plausible.” He shrugged.
—Confessional :Fiore—
“This was utterly unfair,” she groused, kicking her stump with the back of her foot. Collecting herself, she held up a finger. “But did you all see how on edge Dan looked back there? I mean, given what occurred, it computes. But still…” A scheming smirk tugged at her lips. Agitation frequently left people easier to manipulate. “Maybe him going tonight isn't in my best interest, after all…”
—End Confessional—
Taking a page from another's book, Blake elected not to gun for his main enemy yet. Instead, his orbs, glinting with resolve, landed on Grett. She narrowed her eyes, yet knew she couldn't do much, aside from praying the trio didn't possess much dirt on her.
However, those vindictive grins Alessandro and Dan formed dispelled such prospects.
“Grett…” The surfer commenced, letting his allies savor her dread a bit before proceeding. “Is Tom really a part of your alliance — like, as much as both Fiore and Will. Or did you just recruit him — and Hunter, before he got booted — as extra votes?”
Flaring up, Tom scowled toward his rival. “Oh, is this your attempt to cause a rift between us four?” He reproached. “Whatever…” He trailed off, noticing how enraged his alleged alliancemate appeared — she stared daggers at Blake, as though to set him ablaze. “Grett?” He queried, his suspicions roused.
“You've got five seconds to answer,” Brian Smith apprised, intentionally allotting her less time to prevent her from choosing wisely.
“Of course, he's a part of the alliance,” Grett blurted, momentarily forgetting their helmets were equipped with lie-detectors. Crimson illumination emanated from her device, stunning only a certain cop.
“W-What?” Tom stuttered, watching her get burdened with her second set of weights. “You… deceived Hunter and I?” He quizzed, his mind lagging as it processed this revelation.
—Confessional :Grett—
Eye twitching, she gnashed her teeth. “Of course, those three bastards just had to somehow attain that information…” Her fists curled with wrath.
—End Confessional—
Refusing to allow her the chance to defend herself, Dan cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself.
“Grett, during the team phase — did you flip to vote off Connor with me and Alessandro?” He questioned, wanting to paint her as even more unreliable.
“Oh, shut up!” She barked, only for her light to glow red. “What the hell?” She protested, receiving another set of sandbags. The load grew considerable enough for exertion to affect her. Puffing, she strained her muscles, holding her stance. As a befuddled expression morphed into an irate scowl, however, she gulped.
Seizing this opening, Dan interjected. “Yup, she went behind your backs just like that. All because she was offered a way to cover up her involvement. Just so you know, that advantage I used that night only allowed me to steal one vote, not two,” he divulged, stoking the cop's resentment.
“Um… Tom, maybe we should all take a step back to clear our heads,” Will fruitlessly attempted to mediate, only to hush at the flaming glare shot his way.
Head snapping toward Grett, he snarled. “Do you even feel bad for this shit?!” He scolded.
Averting her gaze, she contemplated her options. Understanding lies wouldn't improve her situation, she prioritized the challenge. “Not really.” She admitted. “It's the game we signed up for. You can't fault me for playing it.”
Barely reacting once two sandbags were added onto his pole, he flared up.
—Confessional :Tom—
Stamping a foot, he leveled a finger to the camera. “I should've known something was up after her slip-up this morning.” He vented. Fists tightened to painful degrees, he couldn't stop a choked sob from fleeing his mouth. “If not for what Dan did to Ellie, I'd be inclined to say he, Blake and Alessandro were more honest...” He shook his head wearily. “How did we reach this point?”
Lowering his gaze, he clenched his teeth, embittered. “Wouldn't surprise me if she told Fiore and Will to get the other three's votes on Hunter just in case…” He jumped to conclusions.
—End Confessional—
“Wow… she didn't even have the decency to throw this for your sake? After her bullshit? Low…” Dan egged on.
Snappish, Tom shot a glare back. “Be quiet. I know how you provoked Ellie into drawing the wolf's attention! Shouldn't have gloated to your alliance about it!” He spat, perplexing him. Those words prompted Alessandro to tilt his head quizzically.
—Confessional :Alessandro—
“Now… that's quite the discrepancy…” He remarked, tapping the edge of his stump. “I don't mean to presume, but something tells me Grett wasn't too honest… again.”
—End Confessional—
Without dawdling, the model fixed a stern gaze upon his prey.
“Grett…” His voice was as firm as his stare. “Were you, Fiore and Will honest about how that whole Ellie dilemma went down? Or did you fabricate elements of it?”
Grateful over his friend's support, Dan smirked upon observing how agitated Grett had gotten. She was a hair or two away from losing her shit. Perhaps some baiting would tip her over completely.
Emboldened, he snickered, lips curling into a sneer whilst he addressed her. “Yeah, come on now. Tell them how you just indulged in spouting lies. In fact, given what Tom said, I'm rather intrigued to find out what you conjured up.” He goaded, his tone as insufferable as he could manage.
She snarled, her heels digging into the turf. “Shut the fuck up,” she hissed, her brain scrambling to ascertain how to approach this. Inhaling deeply, she tried articulating a response. “I-”
“Spouted nothing but nonsense? Drivel? Bullshit?” He taunted, escalating his provocation. Considering her low growl, quaking figure and murderous glower, his efforts proved successful.
“Thirty seconds!” Brian Smith warned, hands on his hips. He sported a wide grin, betraying great delight over this drama. “Come on, don't leave us hanging. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to handle much — these weights are a fair amount heavier than those used in All-Stars, after all~” He teased, pointing toward her trembling limbs.
She muttered under breath, perspiration beading her brow. Rage, adrenaline and exertion swirled within. Melting into fog that coated her mind, impeding proper judgment. The last of her self-restraint hung on by an increasingly strained thread.
One Dan promptly swooped in to snip. “Your ‘redemption’ was bullshit, wasn't it?” He sniped, holding back contemptuous laughter. “I mean, sure, Gabby isn't that horrible, but she does tend to overlook whatever bad stuff those she really likes do. And your brief bond with Ally came while she was in villain mode.” Overly invested in the role of instigator, he sighed dramatically. “Did you really change? Or have you just taken the opportunity to incorporate a marginally nicer act after you just happened to be victimized by Yul-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” His thrill evaporated, eyes bulging upon beholding the full extent of her ire. However, it was too late to backpedal. She had launched into her diatribe. “YOU ARE NOTHING BUT PATHETIC, VILE, ROTTEN BASTARD! ALWAYS ACTING AS THOUGH YOU'RE UNFAIRLY TREATED, BUT YOU'RE REALLY JUST A COMPLETE FUCKING B-”
A new sandbag hung from either side of her pole, finally breaching her limit. She crashed down with a shriek, leaving everyone gaping at her heaving figure. Most baffled amongst them was Dan, as it narrowly registered that he drove her into that state…
—Confessional :Tom—
“That was something…” He mumbled, momentarily unsure what else to utter. Shaking his head, he donned a dour expression. “But regardless, Grett is clearly not a reliable ally.”
—Confessional :Alessandro—
Shifting in his stump, he stroked his forearm awkwardly. “I didn't expect things to spiral out of control like this. I only wanted to expose her, get Tom to turn on her even further.” Contemplating swaying grass, he sighed. “I hope Dan doesn't go too far…”
—Confessional :Dan—
The nerd's face tightened with contrition, which he tried his hardest to shake off. “I didn't anticipate such an extreme response…” He defended himself, remaining guarded.
—End Confessional—
Panting from exhaustion, Grett just barely managed to haul herself back afoot. In less than a minute, her whole outfit and look was marred. Her hair was matted with grass blades and soil — the latter smearing her dress, too.
Her blazing orbs pierced into Dan, who nearly stepped back with tension. Momentarily, he feared she may lunge at him. Thankfully, that didn't come to pass. Swiveling around, she stormed down the trail back to camp.
Several seconds of silence followed, until clapping broke it.
“That… was awesome!” Brian Smith enthused, drawing unamused and disconcerted stares. “Ratings will skyrocket, I just know it!”
Clearing his throat, he gestured over all remaining contestants.
“For this next round, we'll be introducing some new risks for novelty. From here on out, whenever you gain another weight — there's a random chance it will be special; as in, extra stuffed. You may have been completely honest till now, and get knocked down by one of these.” He upraised his arms. “Isn't this just… exhilarating?”
—Confessional :Fiore—
“Considering that lunatic's definition of ‘exhilarating’ was putting us all through virtual hell?” She deadpanned. “Yeah, definitely a good thing I dropped early. I wouldn't be surprised if those unique bags were heavy enough to crack someone's spine.”
—End Confessional—
Ensuring others paid them no mind, Alessandro sidled to his nerdy friend's side, leaning into his ear.
“I know this may sound insane, but we have to ensure Blake's the one who wins immunity.” The model whispered, making the other raise an eyebrow, prompting him to elaborate. “If Tom can't target him tonight, he may turn on Grett's alliance now that he's been burnt by them.”
Although wary, Dan ultimately recognized his rationale, nodding. “Let's wait until we can somewhat guarantee his win.” He stipulated.
“Thanks, Dan — you're the best,” Alessandro concurred, retaking his prior spot so as to avert suspicion. Unbeknownst to him, slight resentment brewed within his friend's mind.
—Confessional :Dan—
Waving his displeasure aside, he folded his arms. “Alessandro's plan makes sense, it does. Robbing the others of the obvious compromise prevents Grett from staving off Tom's wrath.” His words grew increasingly forced. “Really, it's good strategy.”
Drawing his legs close, he propped his chin over his knees. “I… just hope it remains clear that I'm his best friend, not Blake.”
—End Confessional—
Eyeing his options, Will faced quite the dilemma. His orbs flicked from option to option, each making him shake in his boots in some way.
Tom? He fumed fervently, his bewilderment over Grett's outburst already overtaken by indignation. Doubtless, courting his wrath would defy common sense. The brickhouse didn't feel like sicking what may as well be a human bull on himself.
Alessandro? Will couldn't exactly scrounge up any potential sore spot. Other than stuff related to his insecurities, he supposed. But digging into that felt too mean-spirited. Sure, he sought to actually play what they signed up for; however, directing such personal queries toward someone who hadn't even done him any wrong was too low.
Blake? Just… no. The brickhouse balked at the notion of reopening that can of worms.
That left one guy…
“Dan…” He commenced, considering what to inquire. Moments later, he conjured up something. “When you talked to me about Hunter and Tess when I expressed reluctance to vote against the latter, were you genuine with your words? Or did you just manipulate me to ensure I didn't flip?”
The nerd scrunched up his face thoughtfully. It didn't take him too long to present his answer. “My main intent was ensuring you wouldn't refrain from voting Tess, yes,” he conceded, shrugging. “But that doesn't mean I didn't believe what I said regarding her and Hunter.” His light flashed emerald, denoting veracity.
John groaned, his limbs throbbing as he schlepped the sandbag toward the brickhouse. From how strenuous this effort appeared, it didn't take a genius to infer the brickhouse had rolled an unlucky dice. Despite this exertion, the weight moved about an inch every several seconds. No way he'd successfully heft it.
Brian Smith tapped his foot, antsy. “Come on, you slacker. We don't have all day!” He chided. This elicited nothing beyond a grunt — the laborious task fatiguing the intern too much for him to respond verbally. Eventually, the host relented, ordering Julia to come via walkie-talkie. Upon deactivating the device, he scowled toward his worker. “You're so going to get it afterwards…”
Once Julia arrived, her strength allowed them to lug the overstuffed sandbag onto Will's pole. The brickhouse crashed down a second later, rendering all this spent energy pointless.
—Confessional :Will—
Panting and dispirited, he averted his gaze. “I… was kind of hoping to finally get an individual immunity for once… Would help make me feel as though I've earned my spot in this point of the competition…” He conceded.
—End Confessional—
Blake cocked his head toward Tom. Outside his own alliancemates, he couldn't target anyone else, after all. However, as his lips parted, he spotted Dan putting a hand up from behind the cop. Arching an eyebrow, he saw the nerd point to himself.
Upon apprehending his instruction, Blake diverted his attention to him. “Dan…” He contemplated what to discuss. To keep suspicion from bubbling, it couldn't be too tame. However, he didn't feel like stamping his own ally onto the spot either. Eventually, he settled on, “Are you proud of how you played last time you competed?”
Rolling his eyes, Dan replied, “Totally.” Light glowing crimson, he swiftly got a pair of sacks added onto his bar. Although clearly not extra heavy ones, his scraggly frame grappled with them, trembling. Deeming it plausible enough, he allowed himself to cave in.
Discreetly, Alessandro sent him a grateful look, then winked to Blake.
—Confessional :Dan—
Bummed out, he embraced himself.
“With Will gone, it's only a matter of time before Tom follows. So, making sure Blake doesn't gun for him too much throughout the challenge is a good idea — stops Tom's already existing grudge against him from intensifying to the point he won't entertain a possible truce, even with the surfer immune.”
He scratched the back of hair.
“Given Alessandro has more strength, it makes more sense for him to remain longer to try and take down Tom…” He folded his arms.
—End Confessional—
Clenching onto the metal post on his back, Tom snapped his head toward his rival.
“Blake…” He growled. Admittedly, much of his current ire didn't even pertain to the surfer. Nevertheless, he remained disposed to take it out on him. “Have you ever felt even an ounce of regret over cheating on Jake?”
Blake tensed up. Mere weeks ago, this would draw brazen denial, brimming with self-assuredness. It was… no longer such a breeze. He stared down, tightening his grip upon his rod.
“Fifteen seconds,” Brian Smith admonished, starting to sound done with this challenge.
However, the surfer's troubled orbs were soon met with a reassuring gaze from Alessandro. An understanding nod, promising not to judge him, regardless of his answer.
Steadying himself, Blake finally responded. “I… For a long time, I didn't. Or at least, I convinced myself I didn't.” Taking a swift moment to collect his thoughts, he resumed his speech. “However… some recent events made me start to reconsider stuff.” He heaved a weary sigh, eyes flicking aside with shame. “And now? I wish I had just broken things off with him normally…”
The lie-detector strapped onto his helmet shone green, baffling the one who questioned him.
“What?” Tom gasped, blinking with astonishment. “But you-” Before he could conclude that sentence, his penalty — which, unfortunately for him, happened to be loaded — came, downing him.
—Confessional :Tom—
Panting, he stared forth, befuddled.
“I… didn't anticipate that…”
—End Confessional—
Eyeing the backs of both remaining competitors, Brian Smith frowned. Neither had gotten any weights yet. Although one could receive a pair of leaden sandbags soon, his frustration with his incompetent intern rendered him unwilling to leave it to luck.
Therefore, once a way to expedite this last round occurred to him, he didn't balk.
“Alright,” he spoke up, smacking his hands together to attain their attention. “Listen up. To speed this along a bit, we're having a sudden death round. Basically, whoever gets penalized next loses, with the other winning immunity.” He spread his arms apart as he proclaimed this, grinning broadly. “Alessandro — round 2 didn't last long enough to reach your turn, so it's your time to dish it out.”
Given how swiftly this came, Tom lacked time to depart. Meanwhile, Dan stayed on purpose. Both watched intently.
—Confessional :Alessandro—
Hands on his lap, he hummed with consideration. “While I'd rather give Blake an extremely simple question to ensure his victory, I have to give him something harder. Tom can't figure out we threw it for him; otherwise, the plan falls apart.” He inhaled. “I'll just have to trust Blake to answer honestly…”
—End Confessional—
“Blake… are you proud of how you've acted for these past few years?” The model quizzed, offering him a subtle, apologetic countenance.
A low growl escaped the surfer's lips. He understood the reasoning accompanying this personal inquiry. Yet, it did little to alleviate how uncomfortable the topic made him. Comprehending how imperative transparency was, however, he huffed.
“Fucking damn it… fine, I don't. Especially after what happened recently, whenever I look back on how I handled many things before this competition, I feel like shit at quite a few points…” A relieved breath evaded him once green light greeted his response.
Though unneeded, a pair of unimaginably full sandbags got thrown onto Alessandro's pole, bringing him down with a yelp.
“Was that really necessary?” He groaned, gaze shifting briefly to the host. “You'd already told us whoever got penalized next was done.”
Shrugging remorselessly, the host extended an arm toward his interns — more precisely, Johnathan. “Sorry hot-stuff, but after my intern's less than stellar performance, giving him another break was out of the question.” To further deflate his poor worker, he added, “And that's also why I'll be having him stand beside me during tonight's ceremony. Incompetent fools like him don't deserve early rest.”
At this blatant cruelty aimed toward her friend, Julia snarled, fists curling. “What is your problem?” She barked, stepping forth. Before she could advance toward the bastard, John held her back weakly.
“Please… don't get yourself in trouble for my sake.” He pleaded, prompting her to reluctantly simmer down. “I'll be fine, promise.”
Shaking his head at those sappy assurances, the host refocused on the contestants present. “As for you, go back to your campsite — you, as well as the three who already headed off, have an hour before the ceremony.”
Tsking, Tom stormed down the dirtpath. Watching the cop evanesce into flora, Alessandro dusted himself off, approaching Blake, as the latter dropped his weightless bar.
“Hey… sorry about that last question…” The model said, guilt evident in his expression. “I just didn't want Tom to figure out what we were up to. And him thinking there might be some friction between us may sweeten the prospect of voting alongside us tonight.”
The surfer held up a hand to hush him. “It's fine. I'm the one who did stuff I'm ashamed of now. Not you.” Despite his reassurance, his slight gulp betrayed his slightly distraught state. “I… need some time alone, though…” He departed in the opposite direction Tom had.
The model reached a hand, but paused upon noting Dan staring downward. Realizing he hadn't addressed him again yet, another wave of contrition washed over him. Fingers raking through his luscious hair, he sidled over.
“Sorry for ignoring you there, Dan. I'm just… worried for Blake,” he apologized, gently grasping his buddy's hands.
Taking a deep breath, the nerd strained on a long-suffering smile. “It's completely okay. We wouldn't want an alliancemate of ours to be downcast now, would we? We need to be at our best right now.” Letting go of the other's tanned, smoother hands, raised a finger. “How about this? You go check on him, while I take care of setting the rest of your idea in motion.”
Interest piqued, Alessandro arched an eyebrow. “Um, are you sure? I don't want you feeling as though I'm making you do all the work.” He asserted. “Given how temperamental Tom must be right now, if my plan fails, he might target whichever one of us spoke to him most recently. I don't want to put you at risk-”
“It's fine,” Dan cut him off. “You and Blake already spent a totem to save me last night. This is the least I can do to repay the favor.” Before the model could argue, he whipped around and strode off.
—Confessional :Alessandro—
Arms crossed, he ruminated over what to do. “I suppose I shouldn't annoy Dan by insisting on coming, given he seems adamant on doing this by himself… And I would like to ensure Blake is also okay…” He sighed, brushing a hand down his face. “I hope I'm not being a bad friend…”
—Confessional :Dan—
“I meant what I said back there. Besides, Alessandro and I have been together through the entire team phase. Why would I feel threatened at all?” He chuckled, overlooking how no one had ever questioned if he felt ‘threatened’ prior.
—End Confessional—
___________
Footprints formed a trail upon sand, leading to a certain surfer. Lounging near the lake, he contemplated his reflection, brooding. Each ripple seemed to trigger another recollection.
His relentless hatred, following his eviction from his abusive father's home, once Jake acted as though nothing had transpired. The way he projected all the resentment stemming from his father onto his at the time boyfriend, giving rise to a desire for vengeance.
How he purposefully cheated on Jake in a conspicuous manner, to humiliate him as payback. His sneer, as he nonchalantly dumped the bawling man…
Have you ever felt even an ounce of regret?
That question ricocheted off the walls of his head. Well, it sure had begun crashing down upon him now…
“Blake?” A velvety voice interrupted his hushed self-deprecation. Footsteps sounded, before Alessandro took a seat beside the surfer. “I'm… sorry for coming here. I know you said you wanted to be alone, but I worry for you…” Placing a hand on the other's lap, he proceeded. “And I want you to know I'm here if you need to talk, okay?”
Unable to repress his emotions anymore, Blake clasped his arms round his drawn legs.
“I feel like crap dumping this on you…” He sighed miserably. “You've already comforted and believed me, when I really haven't earned it. But whenever the past gets brought up, I… can't help but wonder just how can I ever hope to be better, after all the awful stuff I did…”
“Blake…” Alessandro let out. Sympathy imbued his facial features. The surfer unfastened his mouth — likely to implore him to leave, not to waste more time on someone who didn't deserve support — but he shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “You can never erase the past…” He confirmed, before setting a hand on his shoulder. “But it doesn't need to define your future. Take it from a friend, please…”
Eyes watering, Blake shook slightly. “You… you're not just saying it out of pity? You genuinely… see me as a friend?” He voiced his self-doubt.
Spreading his arms, Alessandro nodded. The surfer threw himself into the offered embrace, sobs sounding through the beach. On this note, the shot panned upward, focusing upon the gradually sinking sun.
___________
“What do you want?” Tom scoffed, crossing his arms and glowering at the trio that cornered him against a trunk. “I have nothing more to say to any of you.” His words elicited an eye-roll from Fiore.
Clutching his chest, Will averted his gaze — the only one with the decency to look remorseful. “I… We're sorry, Tom. I know what we did was dirty, but…” He trailed off, and a hand soon got slapped over his mouth.
“Again, it's the game we signed up for,” Grett asserted, her own orbs blazing. Despite cooling off since her freakout mid-challenge, she remained on edge. “You should know this already. This is your third time, both competing and reaching the merge.”
Tom humphed. “Wow, very persuasive — you yelling at me is doing such a great job changing my mind,” he snarked, irking her further.
She clenched her fists. No way in hell was this asshole throwing a self-pity party — not when Ellie had gotten so messed up. “Listen here, you-”
Wedging herself between both, Fiore silenced Grett with a scowl. Turning to the cop, she exhaled exhaustedly. “Look, you may hate us right now — and I won't be a moron and try pretending to like you either.” She stated bluntly. “But do you really want Blake to win?”
Calming down, Tom frowned still. “What does it matter? He's immune right now. Grett over here just wants Dan gone, as revenge.” He huffed. “For stuff that she clearly misrepresented when apprising Hunter and I of.” He reminded.
“Fair enough…” Fiore replied, elbowing her ally before she could flare up again. “How about this a compromise? Let's target Alessandro tonight instead.” Upon receiving a lifted brow, she elaborated. “That way, Grett won't instantly get what she wants immediately either, to keep things fair.”
Following several moments of pondering, Tom's countenance eased to an extent. “Fine…” He relented. “I guess I can accept that, as long as she swears on it, too.”
Shooting Grett a death-glare, Fiore mimed a neck-slit. Understanding her message, the former growled, but acquiesced.
“Fine. We'll deal with Alessandro tonight,” she vowed.
Feeling a degree of satisfaction, Tom reclined into the trunk. “Good. Now let me have some time to myself. Just because I agree to vote alongside you, doesn't mean I don't absolutely hate your guts.” He insisted.
Grett stalked off, with an unamused Fiore and worried Will tailing her.
—Confessional :Tom—
He rolled his eyes. “I know I told them I agreed, but it was mostly because I wanted them off my face. But… with Blake and the other two potentially gunning for me tonight, it's not like I really had another option…”
—End Confessional—
Rustling snipped Tom's brooding, however.
“Who's there?” He called, narrowing his eyes. “Blake, if you've come here to taunt me, I swear I will break your face!”
“No need to get so violent.” Dan emerged from the vegetation. “I just wanted to see what you were up to, and couldn't help but overhear that exchange…”
Adopting a defensive stance, the officer squinted. “So, you were spying, huh? Sorry to break to you, but as much as Grett is really getting on my nerves right now, I know Blake will get you and Alessandro to target me tonight. It's not like I really have another option.”
Hands on his hips, Dan rolled his eyes. “Why do you think I bothered to reveal myself to you?” Upon getting a confused face, he swallowed a huff, straightening up and lifting a finger. “Blake is not as much the leader of our alliance as you may believe. Really, the three of us all call the shots depending on the situation.”
Easing up somewhat, Tom blinked, puzzled. “And why are you telling me this?”
Stepping forward, Dan smirked. “Simple. Think about it, Tom. Between them and us, who really played dirtier? At least we didn't backstab you early on, then continue exploiting your trust for several days…”
“You… you three booted Jake-”
“Here's some food for thought,” Dan interjected. “From the challenge, you now know Grett flipping that one time back at Connor's elimination is why he went instead of me.” Inching closer, his smirk morphed into a sneer. “Imagine what would have happened if she hadn't done this. And Connor had merged over me. Do the math, and you'll see Blake wouldn't have gotten the numbers to eliminate Jake.”
Jaw dropping, Tom recognized the validity of this argument. Once this registered, his fists curled, face contorting into a snarl — his rage reignited, blazing more than ever.
Thrusting both hands in his pockets, Dan swayed playfully. “So… what if I told you I can get both Alessandro and even Blake to vote against someone I think both of us want gone?” This time, his statement drew an intrigued stare.
—Confessional :Dan—
“That moment? It's for whoever still wants to screech that I don't know how to play this game,” he stated.
—End Confessional—
___________
Flames crackled briskly, bathing the stumps in orange and yellow hues. Seated upon them, the final seven gazed on.
Brian Smith stood tall, his position providing his silhouette an imposing length. Mere feet from him, John loitered, frazzled and bearing baggy eyes. Clearly, the host hadn't been kidding in regards to punishing the poor intern.
Alessandro shivered lightly in his stump, fingering the back of his jeans anxiously.
Unaware, Dan gave him a reassuring glance, assuaging his worry. However, the nerd's countenance soured, as Blake set a hand on the model's shoulder with a caring expression, also seeking to console him. Observing this, Fiore quirked an intrigued eyebrow.
Staying quiet, Tom folded his arms — and Will couldn't stop trembling in his seat, feeling something amiss, though he failed to quite put his finger on it.
Brian Smith flashed a pearly-white, yet sinister grin. “Hope you're all feeling confident… will make it all the funnier when one of you meets the end of their run shortly.” Frowns greeted him. “Party-poopers…” He muttered. Elevating his arms, he declared, “Get voting!”
___________
“I'm sorry about this…” Will mumbled, scrawling down the name.
“Didn't know you much, though you were the least annoying amongst your trio,” Fiore admitted, jotting down her vote. “How unfortunate that you chose to side with those two…”
Grett scribbled down her target with a snarl. “Ugh, this isn't ideal.” Taking a deep breath and composing herself, she hummed. “But I guess getting rid of you will give Dan a small taste of his own medicine…”
Blake penned his vote, shrugging.
“I really hope this works…” Alessandro mused, casting his vote.
“Let's see how smug you'll be…” Dan muttered, eagerly writing the name.
Eyeing his parchment briefly, Tom smirked.
___________
Brian Smith tutted teasingly, counting the votes. “If anyone has an immunity idol, this is your chance to play it.” Tensing briefly, Alessandro ultimately set both hands on his lap — his body language going unnoticed, luckily for him. “Alright then… let's see…
First vote… Grett!”
Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms with a huff.
“Second vote… Grett!”
Letting her upper limbs fall loosely against her sides, she balled her fists.
“Third vote… Grett!”
Scowling toward the trio, she hissed, “Those were your three votes. Time for you to see who the real loser is…”
“Fourth vote… Alessandro!”
The model's orbs bulged. “What?!” He exclaimed, head whipping around to spot Grett's shit-eating grin. Heart dropping, he rued not utilizing his totem when he had the chance.
“Fifth vote… Alessandro!”
Grett laughed. “Sorry there,” she crooned, more vengeful than pitying. “But that's what you get for siding with that purple bastard.”
Speaking of, Dan kept perfectly still.
“Sixth vote… Alessandro!”
“No…” Blake choked out at last, his tone heartbroken. “Not now… it… it can't be… I… I should've let you win immunity. I-”
The model offered him a resigned smile, despite the tear trickling down his cheek. “It's… it's okay. I don't regret meeting you…” He turned his head to his nerdier friend. “Or you…”
Dan smirked, folding his arms. “Don't worry… there's still one vote left.” His words bewildered both.
“Tenth person voted out of Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…”
Arching an eyebrow at the nerd, Grett sneered. “You look very confident for someone about to lose your ‘best friend’-”
“Grett!” The host finished. “That's four votes! Time for you to go!”
Both petrified and elated gasps rang across the area.
Head snapping toward Dan, Alessandro embraced him gratefully, tears cascading down his face. Taken aback, the nerd didn't react immediately. He wasn't used to beholding such a vulnerable side of his best friend. Soon enough, however, he reciprocated — a fond smile gracing his lips.
Processing her own elimination, Grett sprung off her stump. She didn't need time to ascertain who betrayed her. Her murderous glare fixated onto the traitor.
Unfazed, Tom tilted his chin up. “If you hadn't betrayed us in the Connor elimination, Jake might still be here. This is what you get for being a snake.” He asserted.
Gnashing her teeth, she lost it. “Oh, so that's how it is?! That fucking letter delivered by the intern wound up amounting to jackshit then?!” Getting in Tom's face, she growled. “You know what, Tom? I hope your hypocritical ass ends up-”
“What letter?” The host's grave tone cut them off. Too riled up to answer, Grett merely stormed off to catch the bus. With that source gone, Brian Smith's glare flicked to his now gawking intern. “The hell was she talking about?!”
“I… Um… I…” John stuttered, his figure quaking. He couldn't out Julia. Who knew what their demented boss would do to her?
Brian Smith stamped his foot, startling the poor intern. “Answer me, damn it!” He hissed. “If I'm forced to check footage to figure this shit out, I'll be even angrier!”
Gulping, John eventually made his decision. “I… I handed Grett a letter explaining the whole Ellie situation, and Dan's involvement in it…”
The host's face contorted with hatred. “I'll deal with you soon enough,” he hissed, then turned back to the remaining players. “As for the six of you? Return to camp.”
They exchanged bewildered looks.
—Confessional :Alessandro—
Shifting in his stump, he folded his arms. “That was… very close. Had the plan not worked, I would've been gone. I knew how risky it was. But actually experiencing it? That's a whole different story…”
Fishing out his totem, he hummed in thought.
“I… really need to ensure I use this at the right moment…” He mumbled.
—Confessional :Will—
Shoulders slumping, he sighed miserably. “Today went horribly… Blake really just used me all along, and Grett is gone now…” He inhaled deeply. “I should be proud, I know. Going from first boot, all the way to final six. But… I may just be doomed now…”
—Confessional :Tom—
Crossing his arms, he pouted.
“Don't start acting like I'm a moron for not sticking with Grett and her crew. They would have taken me out at final four. Besides, Blake wasn't an option to vote off. And, ‘strategically’, Grett had strength, intelligence and support, too. She was a major threat.
—Confessional :Fiore—
Stroking her chin, she mused, “Sure, losing Grett is a major setback, but some stuff I've been noticing leads me to believe I'm not as screwed as it may seem.” She squinted. “I can see the fissure… and if I manage to fuel and leverage it, I think I can continue advancing…”
—End Confessional—