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Chapter Text

A 25-year-old, well-groomed and formally-dressed man stood in front of the entrance to the legendary Camp Tipiskaw. Slicking back his jet-black hair, he flashed the camera a shiny grin, his emerald-green orbs glinting with anticipation.

“I bet you all thought Camp Tipiskaw was done for, didn't you?” He teased, wagging a finger. “You were all so wrong. See, a certain duo may be quite deep into hosting Season 4 in that abandoned carnival they bought. However, I, Brian Smith, used my immaculate charm to pull some strings. And fortunately for you all watching, they have greenlit this spin-off.”

He waved a dismissive hand, as the downsides came next. “Sure, they may have only given us enough funding for a two-week competition, we'll only have 15 episodes… and some corners may… have to be cut…”

He slapped his hip, forcing on a jovial tone again. “But you know what we'll have that Carnival of Chaos doesn't? 14 players you'll already be familiar with! That's right! Those of you who were sad, thinking All-Stars was the end for them, can cheer. In fact, some of these returnees were not accepted into All-Stars!” Rubbing both hands, he continued. “And, though we didn't quite see it fit to have an eighteen-player cast, we did allow for two all new competitors to come. But not just any random individuals…”

He chuckled ominously. “You'll see what I mean soon enough. I am your new host, Brian Smith, and this is Disventure Camp…

Old Scores To Settle!”

— Opening Segment —

The scene starts at the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw, quickly zooming through the gate and the new host posing beside it.

Grett and Ellie make chummy conversation, until Nick comes in to brag about himself. Grett deadpans, watching him slip on a banana peel. But once she turns back, Ellie is in a squabble with Dan. The two argue, until Alessandro comes in and wraps a friendly arm around Dan's shoulder.

Alec is walking through the woods, carrying an armful of kindling, only to come face to face with Connor. The two start talking, only for Karol to storm in and berate Alec. From behind her, Fiore rolls her eyes, with Will staring at her with suspicion and apprehension. The scene briefly zooms out to showcase Hunter, Ally and Tess gaming merrily.

Jake and Tom are chatting joyfully, until Blake comes in and whacks both down with his surfboard. He starts walking away, whistling, until Tom suddenly seizes the surfer's leg and tugs him down for a tussle.

Cutting to the campfire ceremony area, Dan and Alessandro sit in the middle, the former oblivious to the latter's slight blush. But then, Blake pops up between them, shoving both aside to get more screentime.

Chapter Text

Two buses drove toward Camp Tipiskaw, their windows blocked so their passengers wouldn't know half the cast they'd be competing against before they arrived.

___________

A pair of unsure eyes stared on from behind glasses, scanning the other figures within the bus. The scrawny man with a purple hoodie and beanie had previously interacted with a good chunk of his fellow passengers, yet had formed meaningful bonds with zero of them. Dan heaved a sigh, knowing he was in for a rough ride. He was grateful for the second chance to prove himself, he was! But… he was already questioning his chances.

Shaking his head, he willed himself to turn his head toward the other side of the aisle, to the row that aligned with his. There sat two men; one taller and buffer, with scars on his face, neck and hands, yet a jolly expression all the same — Tom — and his somewhat shorter, definitely much slimmer partner — Jake.

After drumming his fingers on the armrest of his seat a bit, Dan forced his way past the awkwardness. They had, if only briefly, been allies back in season 1… even if one of them had, well, betrayed him the exact day said alliance, which barely lasted, mind you, formed. Still, without any kind of unforeseen circumstances at play this time, he'd surely find better luck, right?

“It's nice to get another shot at this,” Dan started at last, endeavoring to break the ice. “It was disappointing, not getting called for All-Stars like you two, you know? But still, I'd be open to working with you guys again-”

“Um… um…” Tom blinked at Dan, lifting a confused eyebrow. “Who are you again?”

Those words hushed Dan, who just stared. This… the guy couldn't be serious right now, could he? They may not have known each other for long, but he wasn't that forgettable, was he?

Jake patted his husband on the head with an amused chuckle. “That's Dan, babe,” he reminded. The himbo seemed puzzled still. “He was with us on the Teal Team back in season 1.”

“Ohhh…” Tom let out, slight recognition now crossing his features. This did little to improve Dan's dampened mood.

“No need to feel stupid, Tom,” a raspy voice came. Dan's fists immediately tightened slightly at that voice. Looking over, he saw none other than the ginger he most blamed his loss on. “I'm not even sure how whoever is hosting this managed to even remember Dan's existence in order to send him an invitation.”

“Oh, don't be mean, Ellie,” Jake replied, though he clearly struggled to stifle a snicker.

Dan's eyes narrowed. Crossing his arms, he turned away grumpily.

—Confessional :Ellie —

“Ever since Jake and I reconciled that time Gabby and I came to visit him and Tom, things have been pretty good between us,” she stated. “I wouldn't mind having the two of them, along with Grett, on my team.”

Knowing what some viewers may have been asking, Ellie added, “If you're wondering why Gabby isn't here, well, she did get invited, but preferred not to come. She's been really dedicated to a local animal shelter, so she gave her original slot to Tess. As for how we're doing…” Her grin faltered. “We're better off than before, certainly, but it will take a while for my fashion brand to take off. So, may as well try and win a safety net, right?”

—End Confessional—

Perhaps somewhat deservingly, this exchange was interrupted. “I thought peasants were meant to be there for one another, or something,” none other than blonde, fedora-wearing, rich bastard Nick said, stroking his goatee. He shrugged, seemingly not caring about the hardening countenances all around him. “I suppose my parents were right to say poor people stick to no principles — not even those supposedly their own.”

Ellie's attention snapped over to him. “If you do not want to be near us, feel free to leave. Trust me, you'd be doing everyone a favor.”

Nick scoffed. “You really think you can talk to me like that? I'll have you know the money I spend in a single day is likely more than your family sees in a decade.”

An older man with a golden-tooth, Connor, interjected. “Hold your horses there. I'm wealthy, too, due to my family's perfume company. But I'd never flaunt it or believe it makes me better than anyone else.”

Nick scrunched up his face in annoyance. “Well, duh. Not even a trillion dollars could help your case when you look the way you do. I'll have you know-”

At that point, Dan tuned them out. Clearly, they were too busy in their own small world to pay someone like him any mind. Arms folded, he stared ahead with glare.

—Confessional :Dan—

He huffed with exasperation, tugging lightly at the bottom of his beanie as he spoke. “Even though I nearly got to the merge phase in season 1, almost everyone in the fandom either seems not to know I exist, or is meming over my lack of presence. Or worse, outright mocking me online.”

Leveling a finger toward the camera, he continued. “I'm not going to be seen the same way once this airs, I swear.” His resolve faltered. “...Even if I'm not… fully sure how I'll get through this…”

—End Confessional—

Just a few rows behind Dan's spot, one of two new competitors watched. Following brief ponderation, the man stood up, walking over.

“Can I take the seat beside you?” He asked, his melodious voice prompting the nerd to glance over his shoulder. What greeted Dan's eyes was very much not your average guy. Rather, an Italian, tanned adonis. He donned a halfway-buttoned shirt, accompanied by jeans and a golden necklace.

Dan awkwardly signaled for him to go ahead, unsure how to commence conversation with someone he hadn't even met prior.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

The model winked, waving a hand casually to greet viewers. “Greetings. I'm Alessandro. Been modeling for a few years now; in fact, the reason I got cast for this show is because of a cameo in one of the early episodes of the current main season.”

He chuckled, blowing a playful kiss to the camera, then continued. “I've actually sought entry into the acting industry for a while now.” Brushing his wavy hair back, he seemed hardwired to make the best first impression he could. “And well, considering how a certain actress that came from Bollywood did following her participation in Seasons 2 and All-Stars, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime,” he explained. “But no worries, I've come with at least a basic idea of what I'm in for, and I'm not spiraling into committing multiple murder attempts.”

—End Confessional—

“My name is Alessandro,” he introduced himself smoothly, holding out a hand.

This eased Dan's frustration and worry considerably. Sure, they may not have known one another, but at least Alessandro actually appeared to respect him. More than he could say regarding the rest. “I'm Dan,” he answered, accepting the handshake.

Alessandro gave a charming smile. “You played back in season 1, didn't you? Shame you couldn't get past the merge. You played better than the other guys on your team at least,” he whispered that last sentence, so as not to be overheard by those men.

Dan rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Got screwed over by that idol. Became completely irrelevant and memed about for a while,” he sighed. “I… am hoping this second shot will be the showcase I need for those bastards to stop tormenting me online. Though… I do feel kind of isolated right now.

The model gazed at him understandingly, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Well, if you ever feel alone, I'm here for you.”

From three or four rows behind them, a woman in a yellow romper dress — Grett — peered toward the conversation, struggling to hear it from how quietly the duo conferred. Normally, she would have much better stuff to do than this, but without them being forced to come without electronics, as well as windows all being boarded up, she really had nothing better to do than to spy on them.

“Hey, you hear me, you bloody-wanker?!” Nick, who had apparently finished his argument with Ellie, butted in, his voice grating at Grett's nerves. “This shall be my grand return!” He kept hyping himself up, eliciting an eye-roll.

—Confessional :Nick—

He tilted his chin up haughtily. “Don't bother rooting for others. I assure you. I'm the one who'll win!”

—End Confessional—

As Nick rambled on, Grett observed the other passengers. Her orbs narrowed slightly once they alighted upon Ellie, Connor, Tom and Jake sitting close to each other, continuing their cheery discussion now that Nick was bothering someone else and Dan had given up on making his presence of note to the quartet.

—Confessional :Grett—

“Hopefully, that wealthy brat's ass will get booted earlier than even in his debut season. Then, she took on a pensive expression. “It's clear the teams have already been decided. Why else bother to use two different buses to get us here?” she reasoned.

She tapped her heeled-foot lightly on the floor. “On that front, I can at least be certain I will be safe for a few rounds. However, if the teams merge late, will it be enough?”

—End Confessional—

___________

Over at the other bus, a well-built surfer reclined into his seat, arms crossed behind his head and both feet set atop the headrest in front of him. He donned an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, orange trunks — with two horizontal yellow stripes near the bottom — and blue slippers. A pair of sunglasses rested over his eyes, despite how obviously unnecessary it was.

This trip was such a drag. For some reason, whichever loser was hosting had them get their phones confiscated before getting on the bus. The inability to plug in some earpods and listen to chill tracks during this ride already didn't help his mood. Add to that those stupid planks of wood covering the windows, and it made this drive a slog.

“You sure you'll be able to endure another season of zero gaming, Ally?” An individual with black hair styled into a tuft asked his girlfriend. This guy — Hunter — had boots and his overall outfit, each piece only displaying one or two colors from gray to black.

Ponytail-wearing Ally, who wore a shirt displaying some sort of rudimentary pixel art, chuckled ironically. “Very funny,” she replied, but the smile made it clear she wasn't upset. “Besides, if what Alec told Fiore on the row behind us is true…” she mentioned both the librarian and the unnaturally intelligent nine-year-old. “It means the three of us will get to be on the same team, just like the first time we played!”

She pulled both Hunter and their mutual best-friend — another woman, who had her hair tied into a chignon and donned much less gamer-centric clothing, Tess — into an embrace. None in the trio paid any mind to the few unpleasant looks they were sent, or even the fake gag noise Fiore emitted. Ally cheered, “Let's slay this contest like I had us slaying that Fortnite match we played together last week!”

That reference was too exasperating for a certain bossy woman with a Karen hair-cut to tolerate. “This isn't one of your messy orgies, you imbeciles,” Karol barked, her lack of knowledge in videogames leading her to misinterpret Ally's intentions. The brickhouse unfortunate enough to be sitting near her row, Will, winced. “Now shut it! This journey is already shit enough without you yapping!” Her demand drew displeased looks from the trio.

Fiore raised a brow. “Well, if this does end up being our team, at least we'll probably not be the main targets right off the bat. Not while that one is still around, at least,” she whispered to Alec, who nodded, soon finishing the novel he had been reading thus far, passing it to her. “Well, thanks for the book. At least I won't be as bored for the rest of this. Is the driver trying to imitate a snail?”

The surfer tilted his head toward the exchange between the trio and Ms.Karen. Uncrossing his arms, he raised his sunglasses to reveal a plotting glint in his dark-brown eyes, a smirk on his lips.

—Confessional :Alec—

He seemed nonchalant at first. “Why I returned? Well, although Cheryl and I have talked over, understood and accepted the reasons our marriage fell, my financial situation is still shaky. A million dollars would really help in stabilizing it.”

Moments later, a trace of concern shone through. “Fiore has also disclosed something about her personal life that… has me very worried for her future, so there's that, too.”

—Confessional :Will—

Will greeted the camera with a timid wave, seeming rather nervous. “Um… hey… my name's Will. I know I competed in season 1, but given I got booted first, it's completely fine if you don't remember me,” he said.

“Oh, um, I understand if you're all wondering why I got selected to return. I mean, I bet many are asking why Ashley isn't competing for the third time instead. Well, she was actually the one originally sent the invitation, but rejected it,” he revealed. “But since there was no time to find someone to fill her spot, production just let her choose her own replacement herself. I was nervous — still am — but she told me she wanted me to get my own second chance to do better, so here I am. And I want to make her proud.”

—Confessional : Fiore—

She frowned at the camera. “How have I been? Let's see. My parents have outright disowned me now. Sure, that means no more boarding school. But the orphanage I wound up in was probably hand-picked by those two assholes as a final screw-you to me, because it's somehow even more revolting. The only good thing is that the staff there gives so little a shit, they didn't even say anything when I got an invitation to play again, not even once the bus passed by to pick me up.”

“But whatever. I don't care. I'm here to win that million, and hopefully use it to escape those jerks!”

—Confessional :Blake—

The surfer, the second and last entirely new contestant here, had a casual position. His countenance brimmed with cockiness.

“Hey there, Blake here. How I got cast for this show?” He rolled his eyes. “Well, I certainly can't tell you why. I should've been recruited to compete in that abandoned carnival, instead of relegated to being one of two new guys thrown into this budget season,” he scoffed.

He soon smirked, however. “But if I have to guess, they probably want to cause drama. Bet they're bringing a certain screenhog back to compete. But whatever, I'll crush him if he dares to get in my way. I've watched past seasons casually before, had a good laugh when a certain loser fell at the end of All-Stars. I know how this works, and I'm confident I'll win without breaking a sweat.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Eventually, both vehicles reached their destination, parking by either side of the entrance. Their respective drivers, both stern and no-nonsense, stood up and slammed the door open, gesturing for passengers to exit right away. Most began heading out without protest, even if muttering under their breath in some cases. However, each half had someone accost their driver.

Nick haughtily addressed the burly man, who glowered him down. “Who do you think you are to order me around with mere gestures like that?” he spat indignantly. While passing him, most of the others either cringed, imagining the impending response, or rolled their eyes. Connor facepalmed outright. “I'll have you know I have more wealth than you can ever even dream-” The others, already outside by then, ducked just in time to avoid getting knocked over by Nick, who was hurled off the bus.

Meanwhile, Karol had stormed over to the strict woman assigned to the second group's bus. “There you are. Did you really think just blowing me off last time would shut me up?! You're certainly never getting hired again, if I can help it-” The second group recoiled, as Karol got flung out the door as well.

Will trembled a little afterward. Ashley had been assisting him in getting over his phobias, sure; however, due to some… unfortunate events from his childhood, some fears were ingrained deep within his mind. And something that truly frightened him was aggressive people (admittedly, this one had been exacerbated by his and Fiore's confrontation atop that hill back in season 1).

Blake, who happened to stand beside the cowardly brickhouse, smirked.

—Confessional :Blake—

“While I'm better than everyone here, I know numbers matter here,” he assured. “So, I may as well start working on making some connections.”

—End Confessional—

Blake nudged Will's arm with his elbow. “Hey there, big guy. Noticed you shaking there. How are you holding up?” He kept a chill tone, hoping to lull him into a false sense of security. Will froze, caught off-guard by someone actually giving enough of a crap to speak to him…

But this exchange would get snipped before it could even commence.

“BLAKE?!” Jake cried out in bewilderment and rage, eyes immediately blazing fiercely, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Startling everyone standing near him, and drawing all attention to the two, with Will cowering.

Blake's chill expression faded. He took a deep breath, knowing it was too early for him to clap back and put the twink in his place. “To compete. I was invited to come, just like you and everyone else here.”

Tom gripped his husband’s shoulder, prompting the latter's head to turn his way. “Jake, please, calm down. What's going on? And how do you know this guy?” He quizzed.

Hearing his handsome husband's worry, Jake simmered down, though his disdain stayed blatant as he glowered toward Blake. “You know the jackass cheater who cheated on me? That's him…” At this news, Tom scowled at the surfer, as did Connor. Ellie also shook her head in disappointment at the cheater.

Blake’ eye twitched, as he clenched his fists. A barrage of scathing remarks swirled in his throat, desperately itching to be hurled at the nuisance that was compromising his position before the game even started properly. But he shoved it all back down, so as not to worsen things for himself. Instead, he put on a neutral expression, turning away.

Before any of the three actively glaring daggers at the surfer's back could demand an answer, Brian Smith emerged from the entrance. “Wow, wow, now. Cool your horses, people. I, Brian Smith, will be your host this time, and I've still got to explain some stuff.”

This stopped any further arguing for now, though Jake kept a nasty glare on Blake.

Brian nodded, pleased. “For starters, as some of you may have predicted during your bus trip, teams have already been decided like in season 1.” He leveled a finger toward one of the groups. “Jake, Tom, Ellie, Connor, Grett, Nick, Alessandro and Dan — you'll be the Savage Raccoons.” Then at the others. “Fiore, Alec, Karol, Blake, Ally, Hunter, Tess, Will — you'll be the Fierce Gophers.”

Blake seemed more satisfied upon hearing he wouldn't get stuck on the same team as Jake. It didn't take a genius to know that would be a disaster. And he doubted he would've lasted three days before screeching back at the twink, if he was going to be this much on his ass all season.

Jake himself balled his fists, wanting the bastard out as soon as possible. But Tom held his hands, whispering in his ear, “Don't worry, babe. That unfaithful asshole won't last long.” Connor put a supportive hand on Jake's shoulder, too.

Dan couldn't help but roll his eyes. Of course, the insufferable couple who hogged all the screentime would probably get support online now. And commentators would call whoever went against them trash. He couldn't help but get somewhat angry, recalling all those hateful messages he got for ‘almost ruining Gabbellie, like a wretched bitch’. Sure, with him falling into obscurity, their volume had diminished significantly; however, he still got at least five to ten new jabs taken at his expense every day. And back during the first few months of the season airing? Death threats were flooding his inbox.

Noticing his tense posture, Alessandro, who stood beside him, laid a consoling palm on the nerd's shoulder. Yet, he also observed the scene, stroking his immaculate chin in thought.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Seems Jake and Tom, along with their allies, will be busy come the merge, assuming this Blake survives the team phase,” he mused. “Though, considering team composition, I likely won't have too easy a time getting to the merge myself.”

—End Confessional—

“Yeah, yeah, very touching.” Brian tsk-tsk whipping out a pair of rolled up maps. “Anyway, given this show's popularity — and the fact only two of you are playing for the first time — I won't bother explaining how it all goes. If you somehow don't know or forgot, you'll figure it out yourself soon enough, anyway. Here, a map to lead you to your campsite.” He tossed one to each team. “I'll call you all to compete in the first challenge of the season in about one or two hours, so get going.”

—Confessional :Blake—

His chill posture from prior confessionals had shifted. He now sat with his arms folded against his chest, an unamused glower on his face. “Just my luck. Because of that brat, I won't be able to start with a clean social record.” He inhaled deeply, then released this intake of air. “No matter, I'll come out on top either way. I always do.”

—End Confessional—

___________

The Ferocious Gophers were heading to their new campsite. Blake remained close to Will, yet could tell the latter felt awkward around him, following the information Jake shared with everyone.

Hunter was the one holding the map and leading them, much to Karol's displeasure. He did his best to understand and relay any directions displayed on the sheet. “Okay, we take a turn here, then there. Keep going for a while, and we should-”

Karol couldn't keep herself together anymore. She got in front of Hunter and stamped a foot. “What the fuck kind of vague, useless directions are those?! Give me that map!”

Hunter flinched, but Ally got between him and Karol, narrowing her gamer orbs at the middle-aged woman. “Don't talk to him that way,” she warned.

Karol got in her face, sneering. “Or what? Will he be left too deflated to sate you while you're unable to use OnlyFans to show yourself off to your fans like a w-”

Tess pushed Karol away from Ally. “Don't you dare call my friend that.” She raised her voice for once, something rare, given her usually calmer attitude.

While those four argued, and Alec and Fiore walked together — not giving a rat's ass about this conflict — the surfer initiated conversation with Will again, “Hey, about what happened there…” He purposefully trailed off.

The meek giant fell for the bait, replying, “I'm sorry, man. But I don't really know how to feel about you right now.”

Blake seized the opportunity, clenching his fists. “Guess you now hate me too, huh?” Repressing a smirk at Will's taken aback expression, he continued, feigning distress. “I get it, okay?! I got drunk and did something I shouldn't have. I fucked up, and I deserved to be broken up with. But two years later, am I really such an asshole for wanting the past to be the past already? For not wanting death threats and nasty insults filling my inbox every day?” He hissed, his voice low enough that only Will discerned it, as the rant Karol unleashed in response to Tess challenging her drowned it out for everyone else.

Will cupped a hand over his own mouth, swallowing a gasp. Suddenly, he felt rather bad for trying to avoid interacting with the surfer.

Blake shook his head with a groan, pretending not to have meant to divulge all this. “Just… keep this shit a secret…” As the others’ squabble was put on hold and they forged on, with Karol storming ahead, he quickened his pace, leaving the other guy filled with guilt.

—Confessional :Will—

He nervously tugged at his short, green sleeve. “I don't know what to feel now… Even though what Blake did was bad, I… don't think he deserves to be that beaten down.” He sighed. “I want to say something. But if he doesn't want it spreading around, I'll… I'll respect his decision…”

—Confessional :Blake—

He snickered. “And that is how you make a sucker not want to vote for you. I knew he looked stupid enough to buy it.”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

“Wow… these look old…” Tom remarked, lifting up the somewhat ragged fabric.

They had arrived at their campsite only a minute ago, and found both a firepit and the materials to assemble a tent. At first, it seemed as though generosity had increased amongst producers, as they had been given two tents to erect. But they were in worse condition than anything they were given in the first three seasons.

Tom shook the material. Big mistake. It spread a shroud of dust all around, causing the team to cough. “Oh… sorry…” He told everyone apologetically, as the particle cloud dissipated. Most either shrugged it off, or at least didn't voice their complaints.

Except for Nick.

“Watch it, you big buffoon!” Nick barked, dusting himself. “Unlike you, I don't enjoy getting dirty!”

—Confessional :Nick—

“I meant what I said at the end of last season,” he stated sternly. “I was a bloody fool… for not putting everyone in their place!”

—End Confessional—

Jake narrowed his gaze at Nick. “Don't snap at Tom like that. He did nothing to you,” he hissed.

Undeterred, Nick stepped closer and flicked Jake's nose. “I do what I want. So, stay off my path before you're mown down.” With a pout, he turned his back to everyone. “I'm going for a walk. My hands were not made for menial work.” And he evanesced amidst trees.

—Confessional :Nick—

He smirked cockily. “I bet getting to merge will be a piece of cake, now that I've shown those feeble-minded morons who's boss.”

—End Confessional—

Jake stood there, arms crossed, glowering in the direction the British asshole had gone.

Ellie walked over. “What a piece of work, isn't he? How about we boot him first if we lose?” She suggested, eliciting a grin from Jake.

Alessandro hummed quietly at that, before raising a hand. “I'll go forage for food.” He shot Dan a discreet glance, which the latter noticed, getting the hint.

“I'll accompany you.”

Looking up from the stake he was hammering onto the turf, Tom nodded. “Thanks Alessandro and… um…”

Dan facepalmed. “My name is Dan, you were literally told that during the drive here,” he said, vexed.

“You're not that memorable, be reasonable,” Ellie stated nonchalantly.

Dan resisted the urge to yell at her to shut the fuck up. “Whatever, Ellie,” he huffed, stalking off, Alessandro quickly going after him.

Grett approached Ellie afterward. “So, Ellie, how have things back at home been?”

Ellie smiled. “Well, can't really complain. Gabby's just as lovable and amazing as ever. And though it's growing slowly, my fashion brand is gaining a small following already. They're all really kind, too.”

“Happy to hear the two of you are doing well,” Grett replied.

“if you're still wearing those clothes, I have little faith in that so-called ‘fashion brand’ of yours,” Nick snarked, ambling back to camp. “And why are those tents still not up?”

Grett rolled her eyes. “You literally only left for five minutes, you dumbass.”

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“Where are the cabins?!” Karol barked, a vein visibly bulging in her forehead.

“K-Kristal burned them in the first episode of A-All-Stars,” Will timidly reminded. For his troubles, Karol screamed in his face, sending him scrambling away.

At that, Ally balled her fists, stalking over. “Look, it sucks, we get it. But it's just how it is. And hey, at least you won't be enduring it for anywhere near as long as some of us had to during All-Stars. So, can you settle down, for once?” She pointed a finger.

Karol swatted her hand away. “Don't touch me, you gamer s-”

Hunter got right in her face. “Don't you dare refer to Ally that way again! That OnlyFans comment was already way too far!”

“Don't tell me what to do,” Karol spat.

Tess wedged herself between them, attempting to mediate. “Guys, come in. We can't get this fractured so early on. Otherwise, the other team is going to crush us.”

But to no avail.

On the other side of the campsite, Alec read a novel, whilst Fiore deadpanned at the commotion. “Bunch of babies,” she scoffed.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“While them getting on each others’ throats keeps the target of my and Alec's backs for now, which is good, it's so insufferable,” she groaned.

—End Confessional—

Checking to ensure the others were all distracted, Blake smirked, then approached Fiore and Alec. Without saying a word, he merely pointed toward the woods, then started heading that way. The other two exchanged intrigued looks, soon following the surfer.

Once far enough into the vegetation for everyone back at camp not to overhear them, they stopped.

Fiore started. “So, surfer guy, what do you want?” She didn't have much patience.

Blake rolled his eyes, yet wore a smirk all the same. “Don't worry, I'm not one to wait either. Let's cut to the chase. The three of us aren't exactly liked around here, are we?”

Alec responded. “Is that even something you need to ask at this point? Wouldn't surprise me if Fiore and I were already on someone else's hit list. And given that outburst from Jake earlier, I presume you're definitely on his.” Fiore giggled over that.

Blake inhaled deeply, yet retained his composure. “I wouldn't advise laughing, Fiore,” he warned. “Hunter's here again, and with both Ally and Tess on the same team as him. They're a trio, and we can't allow them to go unchecked.”

“Fair point,” Fiore groaned. “If they pull even one more to their side when we lose, I'm done for.”

Alec looked down at her in concern, before his gaze drifted back to Blake. “So, what are you suggesting?”

Blake leaned back against a trunk, his grin growing. “Well, all three of us are likely targets right now, and that will only worsen once merge hits, if we even manage to get there.” He proffered both hands. “So how about we make an alliance? We vote together and collaborate on taking out those who try gunning for us.”

Pondering a bit, both exchanged looks, then nods, and each shook one hand simultaneously.

—Confessional :Alec—

He adjusted his glasses, lifting a finger. “No matter how I may feel about being underhanded again, especially after Connor helped me open my eyes, this is simply the game we all agreed to play.”

Remorse flickered across his face, but he suppressed it. “Fiore and I needed allies too, after all.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

She shrugged. “I can't say I was expecting Mr.Boy-Toy's ex to be this surfer guy, much less for him, of all people, to be one to look for an alliance with me and Alec. But hey, his offer makes sense. And I need all the allies I can get.” She pointed at the camera. “I am not going through a repeat of All-Stars. Magenta Team sucked.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“Bam!” He smacked his hands together loudly. “Now I have a three-person alliance, which I'll soon be bringing a certain someone into.” He moved his arms behind his head, closing his eyes with a cocky smirk. “Add to that how I have Will buying my sob story, and it's safe to say I've just slid into a very good position on my team.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Alessandro and Dan trekked through the woods together, the latter holding a basket, searching for supplies.

Dan spoke up first. “So, why did you want me to come with you?”

Alessandro smiled. “Well, I've seen how much others seem to be excluding you. And, given I'm now here, I feel they won't be that inclined to get to know me much either. So, I figured we could work together perhaps.”

“An alliance.”

“For sure. We can look out for one another, you know?”

“Sounds good. Doubt others would want to ally with me anyway,” Dan sighed, seeming dejected at that last bit.

Alessandro slung an arm over his shoulders. “It's their loss then,” he replied with a wink.

Dan chuckled, only to spot an apple tree. “Over there,” he pointed out, prompting the model to sprint over and start scaling it. He came over to catch any falling fruit. “Wow, didn't expect you to be that good at climbing,” he remarked, as the other sat on a bough, plucking an armful of apples and dropping them onto the basket.

“Well, I certainly have a lot of skills others don't expect,” Alessandro teased, looking down from above. “I'm not just some handsome model for others to…” He trailed off, spotting something amidst the leaves.

Down below, Dan arched an eyebrow. “Um, what's up?”

“I think I see something-”

Brian Smith's voice blared out the loudspeakers. “Attention, campers. Meet me at the beach in ten minutes!”

Alessandro groaned. “Nevermind, we can check it out once the challenge's over,” he responded, beginning to climb down. Dan displaced a patch of grass with his foot, making dirt more visible as a quick way to mark the spot. “Thanks. Let's just bring the basket back to camp and rejoin the others so they don't suspect anything.”

With that, they left.

___________

Ten minutes later, all 16 contestants assembled by the beach.

Brian stood before them, an excited grin on his face. “Welcome, campers! To the season's first challenge.” He gestured toward an area delineated with white spray paint. “In order to keep things simple for now, you'll be playing a single round of dodgeball.”

—Confessional :Blake—

Blake chuckled. “Dodgeball, huh? Me and the bros quite enjoy playing that whenever we're not surfing the waves.”

—End Confessional—

Blake smirked, motioning for everyone to huddle into a circle. “Here's what we're going to do-”

Karol interjected. “And who made you the leader, you beach-addicted himbo?!”

“Look, I know some techniques that will really leave the other team helpless,” he insisted. Upon getting a frown still, he put some effort into making it sound sweeter. “Don't you want to stick it to Aiden and James by taking out some of their friends on the other team?”

With a humph, Karol relented. “Fine. Just this once, but we better not lose,” she warned.

As the Fierce Gophers strategized amongst themselves, Alessandro watched with worry. “Guys, we should try and come up with a plan,” he spoke up. However, glancing back over his shoulder, he saw a feud already transpiring.

“No, Nick, getting the rest of us to converge into some sort of barrier around you is not a good idea,” Connor scolded. “Even if you stayed safe, the host would probably just give the point to the team with the least hit players. And no, you would not have a good enough aim to hit all the others before they got you.” Nick opened his mouth to retaliate, only for Connor to continue. “Besides, we need to be a team. We're not your servants-”

—Confessional :Nick—

“Time to put that geezer in his place.”

—End Confessional—

Nick cut him off by stomping on the CEO's foot. “Shut it. You have no say in what happens, I do! And you'll all listen to me!” His whiny voice wasn't helping matters.

Dan set a palm on his forehead, exasperated. “Nick, please, for the love of-”

“Get ready and head to the area,” Brian requested, making them all comply and put any discussions on hold for now. The Fierce Gophers distributed their members properly across their half. In contrast to that, the Savage Raccoons were utterly disorganized.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He facepalmed. “We're done.”

—End Confessional—

It started.

Tom didn't get to fetch a ball, as the Fierce Gophers immediately hurled a barrage of them toward him. Catching the bombardment soaring toward him, he instinctively tried rolling off the way, but the volume of projectiles was just too great for him to avoid getting hit. One ball bounced off him, smacking Dan across the shoulder, eliminating him, too.

“Really, you couldn't even dodge a ball that wasn't meant to target you?” Ellie scoffed, ducking to avoid another flung ball. This made Dan ball his fists, as he headed out the marked area like Tom.

Alessandro grabbed a ball and threw it hard. It slammed right into Tess' face, felling her. She happened to flop right onto Fiore, bringing both crashing down and allowing a simple toss from Grett to take the child down. However, the model didn't even get to celebrate, as Hunter leapt high and hurled a ball straight into his chest.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He checked the skin of the struck area carefully, before releasing a sigh. “Seems like it won't bruise, thankfully. Don't know what I would do otherwise…”

—End Confessional—

Will picked up a ball, ready to throw it. But another nailed him in the face. “Um, sorry, Will…” Jake said awkwardly — he had aimed the harsh throw at Blake, but the surfer had sidestepped the attack. Before Jake could say more, however, Blake flung a ball right back at him, knocking the guy over.

“Eat dust, you bloody wanker!” Nick unleashed a war cry, tossing a ball with all his might. If not for the fact the surfer knew he had to stay concentrated, Blake would have taken a moment to stare at the wealthy man in utter disappointment. But as it was, he just allowed Karol to grab said ball and shoot it right into Nick's face.

Seizing the element of surprise, Grett tossed a ball, grazing Hunter's shoulder. “Yes!” she let out at successfully taking out Mr.”Cool, Popular and Good at Challenges”. But her celebration was short-lived, as Ally's gamer skills manifested. Locking her gaze onto Grett, the livestreamer sent a ball slamming into her stomach in retaliation.

Alec grabbed another ball, yet hesitated upon seeing the closest target was Connor. This left him vulnerable to a throw from Ellie, which brushed by his shoulder — enough to eliminate him from the challenge.

Karol snarled. “Get your damn head in the game, dumbass,” she barked at Alec, nabbing another ball and taking aim at Ellie. However, the ginger suddenly got struck by another throw from Blake. Thus, with only one opponent left to take care of, Karol ruthlessly pivoted toward Connor. Before the latter knew it, a ball crashed into his face, felling him.

Brian Smith blew the whistle he wore around his neck, signifying the end of this match. “And the Fierce Gophers win!”

“Victory Royale,” Ally cheered. She, Hunter and Tess shared a group hug. And whilst Will felt a little useless due to not contributing much, and Fiore remained rather pissed over the pain, Blake and Karol grinned triumphantly. Alec, however, couldn't help but narrow his orbs at the usually grumpy woman.

In the meantime, most of Savage Raccoons’ members hung their heads in slight shame.

Brian addressed them next, his tone more grim. “Savage Raccoons, one of you eight will have the dishonor of being the first boot of the season.”

Nick pouted, unable to keep his mouth shut. “We should've gone with my idea,” he scoffed, once again receiving glares from a decent chunk of his team in response. “Can't you all see I'm the only smart person here?” The scowls directed at him intensified.

Brian formed a sinister smirk across his face. “But since a good night's rest is probably what you all need to get used to camp life again, we might as well not have you wait multiple hours for the vote today. Follow me,” he instructed. The Savage Raccoons tensed.

“Can we make it a triple elimination, so the three morons that got hit first can be disposed of at once,” Nick spat, his gait haughty and his tone dripping with absurd arrogance.

“Kid, please, just stop,” Connor urged.

“Why?” Nick condescended. “I'm just telling the truth.”

“Tom got blindsided right at the start, and Alessandro at least got someone on the opposing team out. More than you can say for yourself,” Ellie replied. “Dan, though, yeah… a ball bouncing off Tom did him in… I think that speaks for itself.”

Nick nodded, focusing only on the second half of her statement. “Exactly. Let's just vote off the useless twig.”

Dan's eyes widened with indignation and horror. He needed a few moments to compose himself enough to retort. “At least I didn't spend the entire day flaunting wealth and claiming to be better than everyone!”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I don't remember other teams getting this chaotic on episode 1…” He rubbed his temples to calm himself. “Deep breaths,” he mused. “You can get through this.”

—End Confessional—

___________

The Savage Raccoons sat on stumps before the host, flames crackling within the firepit beside Brian. Clenching a fist out of anxiety, Alessandro had to act. Making sure the others were too busy anticipating the voting process, he leaned closer to Connor, whispering something in his ear. The older male looked at him in shock, but then nodded understandingly.

Brian cleared his throat to draw all their attention. “For some of you, you've been here multiple times. Others, only a few. And Alessandro over there is getting his first taste of it.” The host couldn't help but digress briefly. “How's it going, handsome guy?”

Getting singled out like this made Alessandro tense up further for a second. However, recalling a certain image he had to maintain, he took a deep breath and forced a composed posture back on. “It's… going fine…”

Brian shrugged. “Well, better hope your luck doesn't fade then. Regardless, you all should know how this works. One by one, go jot down the name of the player you believe deserves the dishonor of becoming a first boot.”

___________

“Yes!” Nick grinned sinisterly, depositing his ballot. “See how I knew what I was doing? I bet I'll have that ginger peasant eating off the palm of my hand in no time. But for now? Bye, bye, purple nerd.”

“You have been so rude to our faces all day. And now, I hear about how you thought you could just demean someone like that in private,” Connor vented sternly, writing down the name with a glare. “I know what being mocked and humiliated on international television feels like, and I'm not letting you get away with doing it to someone else.”

“Admittedly, I doubt you'll get booted , but maybe a little scare will do some good,” Ellie said, jotting down her vote. “Besides, seeing you get scared out of your mind will be the best kind of entertainment I can get around here.”

Grett, Jake and Tom merely inserted their ballots in the urn, not having much to say.

Dan scrunched up his face in irritation. “Can't exactly vote for a certain someone right now without risking my own survival here.” He scrawled down a name. “But you've proven to have quite the insufferable personality yourself. Goodbye.”

To test out something, Alessandro tore his ballot in half. He wrote his vote down on one half, which he inserted in the urn. The other, he tucked away in his pocket.

___________

Brian rubbed his hands together, eager to get things started. “Let's get this started for real… The person with the most votes must immediately take a ride on the Bus of Losers, and leave the competition, for good…”

“First vote… Dan…”

Dan's figure started shaking lightly. Noticing this, Alessandro placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Second vote… Dan…”

Nick sneered toward the nerd, prompting Alessandro to glare daggers at the blond.

“Third vote… Nick…”

Nick gasped. “Who the hell voted for-?!

“Fourth vote… Nick…”

“YOU BLOODY WANKERS!”

“Fifth vote… Nick…”

“THIS IS A TOTAL-”

“Sixth vote… Nick…”

“PILE OF”

“Seventh vote… Nick…”

“RUBBISH!”

Despite the last vote being unable to change the obvious outcome anyway, Brian Smith still flipped the last ballot around, revealing Nick's name. “That's six votes, you're out.”

Nick sprang out the stump, and opened his mouth, likely to insult everyone to improve his own self-esteem. However, a stern look from Connor kept the guy in check, and he simply stormed off toward the Bus.

—Confessional :Dan—

He heaved a sigh of great relief. “And people say I am wrong to dislike Ellie? I'm sorry, but she literally went out of her way to mess with me tonight.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He crossed his arms sternly. “I'll admit it right here and now. With how Ellie casually went along with Nick's bratty suggestion to vote Dan out, and her connections with Jake, I just had to ensure she wouldn't manage to get enough votes on Dan. So, I made up a story to push him into voting for Nick — told him the three of us crossed paths while we were out of camp earlier today, and that he told me I just looked like one of the ‘trophies’ his father got under thumb.”

He sighed. “It's not like my ‘fanbase’ see me as more than just a hot item for them,” he mumbled that last part, possibly forgetting the cameras were still rolling.

The episode ended.

Chapter Text

Brian stood in front of the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw. “Last time on Disventure Camp : Old Scores To Settle!”

Footage from episode 1 came, showing the contestants on the buses.

“14 familiar faces returned. However, they were not alone.” Some clips from Blake and Alessandro's confessionals played. “We decided bringing two new people would do wonders for keeping things fresh.” Cut to a clip of Jake seeing and raging at his ex. “And we were right.”

Clips of various moments flashed by. “Alliances started forming. Rivalries are becoming clear.” A few snippets displaying Nick's poor attitude were shown. “Nick thought trying to boss around everyone he met would do wonders for his gameplay! And well…” Moments from the elimination ceremony illustrated the result. “It didn't quite work out.”

It cut back to non-reused footage, with Brian crossing his arms, a cheeky smirk on his face. “15 contestants remain, who will be voted out tonight?”

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

The Savage Raccoons, now downsized to a team of seven, arrived at their campsite. Given the ceremony had been held many hours earlier than usual, a couple hours of sunlight remained.

“So, does anyone want to make themselves useful and go looking for supplies?” Grett asked, hands on her hips.

Alessandro grabbed the basket. “I'll go,” he volunteered immediately.

“I'll come with you,” Dan added.

Ellie crossed her arms with a raised eyebrow. “Why are you so insistent on that?” She questioned him.

The nerd narrowed his eyes at her. “You know why,” he hissed, following the model into the woods.

—Confessional :Dan—

“Can you all see what a bitch Ellie is now, or must I spell it out for you?” He spat indignantly. “Sure, I may have been snappier than usual yesterday, but she just didn't stop taking jabs at me. Then, she actually tried voting me out.”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

As the sun began setting, Blake walked casually toward the firepit, finding Will sitting on one of two logs placed near it, alone. He'd checked to ensure Tess, Ally and Hunter were busy — and found out drawing seemed to now be their thing whenever videogames were unavailable. Knowing Fiore and Alec were probably inside the other tent reading, he didn't waste the opportunity to sit on the opposite log to chat.

“Oh, hey, Blake,” Will greeted. “What's on your mind?” He asked curiously.

“Say…” Blake commenced slowly, careful not to jump straight to the point immediately so as not to seem off-putting. “I assume you want to win for the same reason Ashley competed in All-Stars, am I right?”

Will shivered slightly, seeming uncomfortable discussing such topics. Perhaps, due to his lack of confidence in his own ability to even get reasonably far in this competition, acknowledging the stakes here made him uneasy. Reminded him of how much it'd disappoint Ashley, if he lost.

Blake got up, standing over him. “I see you don't want to lose, am I right? You want to get far, make her proud, right?” He pressed on. Upon receiving a meek nod, he smirked. “Well then, we should work together to eliminate threats,” he reasoned.

Will looked up at him. “W-what threats?” he questioned.

Blake held up three fingers. “Hunter, Tess and Ally — they're a tight-knit trio that must be weakened already. Look, I've already gotten Fiore and Alec to vote with us. And I'll also be approaching Karol soon, too-”

A pair of meaty hands fell on Blake's shoulders, as the other's eyes bulged with shock. “A-Alec?! F-Fiore?! You can't be suggesting we work with them! Karol has also been awful thus far…” the easily-frightened brickhouse stammered.

Blake turned his head away from him momentarily, so the latter wouldn't catch his eye-roll. Facing him again, the surfer laid out his logic. “Look, I get you have a bad history with them, but it's the best option. Allying with the Hunter, Tess and Ally trio will just result in us getting taken out after everyone else on the team if the damn producers decide to put us through an absurdly long pre-merge that we happen to lose a lot in.”

Will's grip loosened, his hands falling to his sides as he couldn't think of a counterargument. Feigning sympathy, Blake patted his shoulder.

“Besides, Alec and Fiore will draw the others’ attention off us if needed, given how horrible their reputation is. I know it's hard, but it's the game we all signed up for,” the surfer reiterated, walking off.

—Confessional :Will—

“Blake… well… he has a point…” he sighed in defeat. “Siding with a tight-knit trio is a very poor idea. Even if I don't want to work with Fiore or Alec, is following my heart really the best option here…?”

—Confessional :Blake—

He reclined into a trunk with a smug grin. “Good thing I'm making good progress on him. Had they banded together to force a tie between one of them and Fiore, our alliance might have been doomed.”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

Alessandro scaled the same tree once more. Once done, he sat on a bough. Eyes flitting, they eventually discerned paper entangled in all the foliage. He gingerly reached out a hand, extricating what turned out to be an envelope.

“Did you find anything?” Dan called out.

The model climbed back down, pulling Dan into a crouch behind some bushes with him. He showed the nerd what he found. Together, they opened it and took a peek at its contents.

Vote-Stealing Advantage…

“This could change everything…” Alessandro whispered. “As long as we can get one person to flip, we'll survive at least one more elimination ceremony.”

Dan nodded, yet remained tense. “Who are we going to convince, though?”

The model began thinking. “We'll figure it out soon,” he concluded. “For now, let's just collect some apples and return before others start getting suspicious. Besides, we should rest early. I'd rather go to as few elimination ceremonies as possible.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He stroked his chin contemplatively. “Out of the five other people on this team, I… think I know who's most likely to flip.

—End Confessional—

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

Several hours later, after dawn had broken and morning greeted everyone with its summer warmth, Ally, Hunter and Tess were huddled together, drawing.

“Wow, Tess. That's, like, a thousand times better than what you showed us a year ago. And that was already mind-blowing,” Hunter remarked, amazed.

Tess chuckled gratefully, taking a look at Hunter and Ally's much lower quality work. “You both have also improved a ton since last time. I can't express just how happy that makes me.”

Ally beamed at her and Hunter. “I wouldn't be able to feel this free and calm if the two of you hadn't made me realize how I should care mostly for those that really do matter,” she thanked them.

Hunter pulled his girlfriend into a kiss gently. The sight warmed Tess’ heart, and she even sketched out a rough picture to refine later. “I'm so happy you and Hunter are going so well.”

Once Ally and Hunter broke their kiss, the latter grinning ear to ear goofily, still keeping his girlfriend close. Pulling Tess over as well, he spoke. “I bet we'll make the merge together, too,” he cheered.

Karol was passing by when Hunter shouted that, her already aloof gait turning more aggressive, as she stalked farther from them. “You wish,” she hissed under her breath.

Blake and Will had been chatting idly since they woke up, each sitting on one of two logs on either side of the currently unlit firepit. Once the surfer spotted the pissed lady storming away from camp, he smirked.

He stood up. “Say, Will, I'll talk to you again later, alright? Just need to do something real quick,” he said.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Those three are complete brats. I bet they'd be doing something very different from drawing if they had been able to bring their Nintenshits and PlayboyStations with them!” She ranted, clearly not understanding whatever the fuck she was talking about in the slightest. “Like, who the fuck is miserable enough to waste their time with those?! Just go to a strip club at that point. Then again, those three would clearly perform there — might as well call them the triple sl-”

—End Confessional—

Inside one of the tents, Alec and Fiore hung out together. The former busied himself with a Stephen King novel, whilst the latter was jotting notes down on her diary. Eventually, the librarian looked up from his book, lips curling into a somewhat fond smile.

“Back to hold habits, I assume?” He teased.

She gazed back at him, sighing. “I guess. Though, I'm mostly just writing down whenever something of at least some note happens right now. Helps calm my nerves a bit.”

Concern rose within him. “Is something bothering you?”

“Nothing. Just pissed with how little I'm getting to play the strategic game myself right now,” she responded. “I know others won't trust anything I say. And though Hunter hasn't been anywhere near as irritating as he was in All-Stars thus far, I can't say I'm happy to share a team with him again, especially with both of his closest allies being here, too. I feel like I can't even try to make a single move of my own right now; otherwise, I may risk getting myself booted.”

“Don't worry, we'll get through this.” Behind his reassurance, Alec carried some doubts.

—Confessional :Alec—

“I feel Fiore isn't being fully honest,” he admitted. “And I think I know what actually troubles her.” He sighed. “But pushing her might do more bad than her, so I'll play along for now.”

—End Confessional—

Karol sat on a rock in the middle of the woods, her expression somehow even more bitter than prior. She had hoped to come across some wild life — animals were miles more tolerable than people, after all. However, whichever bastard had owned Camp Tipiskaw between Trevor and Derek ditching it for Stawaki carnival and Brian having the location bought again may have engaged in criminal stunts similar to those the first two hosts committed, for there were no critters around.

Her mood worsened, she kicked a small stone away, sulking. But then, rustling sounded, growing louder as the source came closer. She turned around, in time to see a certain surfer emerge into view.

“What do you want?” Karol huffed.

“I noticed you don't seem to like Hunter, Tess and Ally's presence. Am I right?”

Karol rolled her eyes. “They're annoying as fuck. So what? Did they send you here to berate me or something? If so, buzz off,” she spat.

Blake's eye twitched, not a fan of the disrespect. Even so, he raised both hands placatingly. “Not at all. In fact, I was just wondering if you'd be interested in joining an alliance,” he offered, holding out a hand. “It would allow you to get rid of those three.”

Moments later, Karol gripped said hand, shaking it.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Finally, a chance to get those three brats out.”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

Inside a tent, Tom and Jake cuddled still. Tom pressed a kiss to his husband's forehead, before noticing the latter seemed troubled by something again.

“Is everything okay?”

This startled Jake slightly, but he soon composed himself as best he could. “Y-Yeah. Why wouldn't everything be fine? Neither of us got voted off, and we shouldn't be in any danger anytime soon. Nothing's wrong,” he assured, though it was clearly a lie.

Tom pressed further. “I wasn't talking strictly about the game. And I can tell you're bothered by something.”

Upon failing to come up with an excuse, Jake yielded with a sigh. “Fine, it's just…” His voice broke a little. “Even though I'm now happier than ever with you, what Blake did… it… still hurts to dwell on. I trusted him, Tom. Before I met you, he was the sole person I had ever envisioned spending the rest of my days with. And he… he…” He buried his head in Tom's chest, dampening the latter's shirt as tears flowed freely. “He cheated on me, threw away our bond like it was nothing to him. I hate him so much, yet seeing him again doesn't just fill me with anger. It also brings back that heartbreak all over.”

Tom's own eyes went watery with sympathy. “Jake… I'm so sorry you had to go through that…” He embraced him closer, nuzzling his hair. “I swear I'm here for you. Even if that bastard somehow makes it to the merge, we'll make sure he goes immediately.”

—Confessional :Dan—

“Despite Alessandro's advice, I couldn't sleep after being at the bottom 2 of the first vote,” Dan revealed. “Even more so after he told me the truth, that he had made up a story in order to get Connor to push for Tom and Jake to vote off Nick, because he worried Ellie may have gotten them to boot me otherwise.”

—End Confessional—

Sitting morosely on one of the logs flanking the firepit, Dan frowned as Ellie approached with an unamused countenance of her own.

“What is it?” Dan spat.

Ellie rolled her eyes, setting a hand against her side as she stood there, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Did you sleep in the wrong position or something? One would think surviving an elimination ceremony for once would make you at least slightly less bratty,” she snarked.

Dan shot up to his feet. “First of all, I know you're the second person who voted against me last night — and I'm 100% certain you tried getting the others to boot me as well to at least a certain extent.” He took a couple steps toward her. “And second of all, Will was the first boot in season 1. I was eliminated in episode 7, just before merge.” He leveled a finger at her angrily. “So, I have survived an elimination ceremony before, you ass.”

Ellie swatted his hand away. “Well, first of all, it's just the game; besides, not like you didn't deserve it.” At the other's eye-twitch, she just smirked. “And second, I guess I just mixed you both up. After all, you both have around the same level of importance,” she sassed. “Except I'm pretty sure Will wasn't such a sore loser about his elimination.”

Dan gritted his teeth, and Ellie did the same back at him.

Watching this feud unfold, Grett facepalmed.

—Confessional :Grett—

“I'm still worried about what will happen if we have a late merge this season,” she admitted.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Slept in a little. I tend to take a while to fall asleep when I'm not used to the location. But regardless, I'll get used to it quickly.”

—End Confessional—

__________

Every camper's current activity was interrupted, as Brian Smith's voice blasted through the speakers.

“Attention, campers! Meet me in the clearing at the center of Camp Tipiskaw in fifteen minutes!”

___________

Some time later, the Fierce Gophers came first, given they still held all their members. Alec was the first to take notice of the new mess-hall situated behind Brian, who greeted them with a smirk.

“I thought cabins and other structures were all burnt at the start of All-Stars,” he voiced, lifting an eyebrow.

Brian chuckled. “Meh, the person who owned these grounds while they were not the company's property did much worse. Any negative attention will just be sucked in by them,” he assured. “No reason to dwell on it, anyway. And here they come…”

Just then, the Savage Raccoons emerged into view — now a team of only seven.

“Nick was the first person voted off.”

Alec and Fiore exchanged smirks, glad that pompous asshole was gone. Karol, Hunter, Ally and Tess didn't care much, not having interacted with the wealthy brit at all.

Will's eyes drifted to the ground. Although his bond with Nick was probably the weakest of those he had with his fellow former members of the doomed Purple-Team alliance, it still stung to find out the guy had been eliminated. It also weakened what confidence he had, seeing someone who — similar to himself — had performed poorly their first go around be ousted first.

Observing this, Blake nudged Will on the side. “Come on, chin up. You've got nothing to worry about. I'm sure Nick would want you to fight on and make everyone proud,” he said, lifting the other's mood just a smidge.

—Confessional :Blake—

“Yeah… I don't think Nick would actually be hoping for that.” He shrugged. “Not dissing Will himself this time. Nick just seems like the type who doesn't care.”

—End Confessional—

Karol just rolled her eyes. “So what if some rich blond finally tripped on his ego? Just get on with the challenge already!” She barked.

“Okay, okay,” Brian yielded. “Geez, what a complete Karen.” Ignoring the glare that remark earned him, the host opened the door to the mess-hall, beckoning the competitors inside. They all filed in, with him soon shutting the door and walking past everyone to stand before them again. “Today, we'll see which team is more culinarily inclined.” He gestured toward the larger area.

Ovens and counters lined both sides, the latter filled with various utensils and electronic appliances for cooking. On the end opposite the door, heaps of supplies were scattered about.

“You'll all get 15 minutes to retrieve as many resources as you can for your team. After that, you'll have one hour to bake a cake, which will then be judged by none other than me,” Brian explained.

Karol scoffed. “Do I look like some house-wife who cooks and cleans for you?”

Brian shook his head. “That would imply you got a partner to begin with. And we all know rotten beef would be more alluring than your personality.”

Karol growled.

“Anyway, you have three minutes before the challenge starts. Oh, and to make things more difficult, the retrieving crew and chefs of each team cannot overlap.”

—Confessional :Jake—

He beamed. “I spent a good amount of time helping Miriam bake, and it's honestly pretty fun. Especially after the main base is finished, and I get to decorate it.”

—End Confessional—

Noticing the excited gleam in Jake's orbs, Alessandro spoke up. “You seem eager to start the challenge,” he observed casually. “I think you should lead the team this round.” He gave Dan a wink.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“This probably won't amount to anything. But if plan A fails, at least I can ensure I'm not out next by getting on Jake's good side somewhat.” He sighed, rubbing his arm in discomfort. “I really don't want to lose the only person in my corner so soon, though. Dan's a nice guy. Besides, not like anyone else would have my back.”

—End Confessional—

Jake had the other members of the Savage Raccoons assemble before him. “Alright guys. So, I think we should have most of the team go retrieve ingredients. As for who should bake, I'm electing myself and…” He trailed off, eyes drifting over to his beloved, the usual desire to work with him making him hesitate.

Tom spoke up. “It's okay, Jake,” he assured his husband. “Do what's best for the team. We'll get plenty of time together later.” He winked, eliciting a giggle from Jake.

On the opposite side of the mess-hall, Blake's eye-roll went unnoticed.

Once Jake quit chuckling, he focused back on the matter at hand. “Getting back on track, I'm appointing Ellie to help me bake. Her fashion-designer skills may translate to knowing how to make a cake truly stand out.”

Ellie nodded proudly. “You can be sure of that. Just don't expect me to base the cake on you. I may be talented, but even I wouldn't be able to save that from getting us a guaranteed loss,” she teased, both sharing a good laugh.

Alejandro heard Dan scoffs quietly beside him. The model set a reassuring hand on the other's shoulder.

Jake continued, turning his gaze to the others. “That leaves Tom, Grett, Connor and Alessandro.” Dan's eye twitched, fists balling. “You four will be going off to fetch us supplies-”

Noticing Dan's increasing irritation and wanting to prevent him from doing something he'd regret, Alessandro cleared his throat. Once Jake looked over, the model motioned to the nerd with his head.

“Oh, yeah, you four and Dan. Sorry for miscounting,” Jake chuckled awkwardly.

Ellie chimed in. “Don't sweat it. I mean, who can blame you for not focusing on every small detail-”

“Just like you missed the fact that not telling Gabby and Tess about the villains alliance while you were ahead basically killed your All-Stars game?” Dan cut her off with a burn. “Like, seriously, had you just waited for Tom and Aiden to storm off after that note from Miriam, then admitted the truth to Gabby and Tess, the latter probably wouldn't have flipped on you.”

“Shut it, Dan,” Ellie spat.

Dan tsk-tsked. “You're the one taking shots at me constantly,” he retorted.

Whilst Jake, Tom and Connor just watched, puzzled as to why those two were always swinging at each other, Grett and Alessandro exchanged unimpressed looks.

—Confessional :Grett—

She shook her head in disappointment. “I swear; if they continue beefing, one of them may resort to breaking the other's limb or something.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He rubbed his temples to keep himself fully collected. “While I'm sympathetic toward Dan, I hope his constant fighting with Ellie won't hamper the plan. Despite his grievances with Ellie, we won't be able to target her, given who exactly I suspect is most likely to flip for at least a round.”

Determination surged within him, and he straightened up.

“Speaking of which, I think this is the perfect opportunity to start… sowing doubt in her mind.”

—End Confessional—

Despite said issues, the Savage Raccoons’ situation was nowhere near as rocky as the Fierce Gophers’ at the moment.

Before communication regarding their task itself could commence, Karol felt the need to verbalize her indignation once more — either not realizing, or not caring about, how no one gave much of crap. “This whole challenge is just rooted in the sexist nature of this generation!” She hollered.

Others deadpanned at that claim, but it was Ally who argued back. “First, women's rights, while still not fully upheld in some places, are certainly not more limited than in past generations. Second… no one told you to cook. Trust me, I doubt we'd let you, even if you stepped up and offered to do so.”

Karol's head snapped toward her. “Shut the fuck up, you gamer sl-”

“Both of you, shut your fucking mouths!” Fiore barked. “We've already wasted over half the time we have for planning! So, does anyone want to handle cooking, or will I have to do it?!”

Hunter cut in. “Well, we're obviously not letting you cook. You're ten, and I also wouldn't want to let you handle knives in general.”

Out of both spite and a desire to seem more courageous, Will joined in. “And you might blow up the kitchen on purpose-” Blake lightly elbowed his side, disapproval clear in his countenance, shutting him up.

Both remarks still irked Fiore. “Fuck off, the two of you!”

Hunter whispered to Will. “We should really vote either Fiore or Karol off.” To which the latter hesitantly nodded. But Blake, picking up on the small interaction, even if he didn't hear what was said, wasn't pleased.

—Confessional :Will—

“To be honest, as good as the offer seems, I can't help but think back to Blake's warning…” He fidgeted in place.

—Confessional :Blake—

“I have to keep an eye on Will, at least until a member of that trio has been taken care of,” he asserted sternly. He huffed. “Wish I could just crush those three already.”

—End Confessional—

“You all have 20 seconds left,” Brian announced.

At that, Blake stamped a foot to get everyone back on track, teeth clenched. Upon realizing how aggressive he came off as, he took a deep breath to regain his composure. “Sorry about that, but we don't have much time left. Tess, Alec, can you please take on the role of chefs?”

Before they could ponder or decline, Brian interjected. “And time's up. So, Jake and Ellie shall be baking on the Savage Raccoons, whereas the Fierce Gophers will have to make do with Alec and Tess.”

Fiore squinted at the host. “Did you really need to say ‘have to make do’?”

Ignoring her, Brian clapped. “Those fifteen minutes won't last forever, so better get started!”

___________

Everyone, barring those four assigned to baking duties, bolted toward the mass of items and ingredients.

On the way, Karol shoved Connor down hard. “Maybe another broken leg will teach you not to keep trying to socialize with people half your age, creep,” she taunted, only to trip and flop headfirst.

Tom, who had stopped and stuck a foot out for her, grinned. “Maybe that will teach you not to be such a witch,” he quipped. He helped Connor back onto his feet.

“Thanks- ow.” Connor winced, a sting assailing his leg. “Damn it, my ankle's probably going to throb for at least a few days now.”

“I think you should sit out…” Tom suggested.

Connor dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense. Even if I'm not at risk if we lose, I don't want to cost our team the win.”

But then, Jake came over. “What happened here?” He quizzed.

Before Connor could come up with an excuse, Tom answered first. “Karol shoved Connor down, and his ankle's now aching. I'm telling he should sit out, but he's refusing.”

Connor got the chance to speak. “Look, Jake, I'm fine-”

“I remember what happened in All-Stars. Sorry, but you're not straining yourself further,” Jake cut him off. With that, Tom passed Connor to Jake, who set the old man's arm over his shoulder so he could support him as they began returning to the baking area.

___________

Blake began rummaging through the heap. Turns out, their ‘gracious’ host had elected to mix in many ingredients that had no place in an actual cake, all just to make their task harder. As they searched for actually usable supplies, he had made sure to stick by Will's side. Eventually, the surfer figured right now was a good time to reinforce the other's loyalty to him.

“So, did you consider what I told you yesterday?” Blake asked, his hushed tone low enough to go undetected by everyone else amidst this pandemonium. “About the threat we should deal with…”

Will tensed slightly. “I'm still unsure. Fiore was very cruel in our debut season, and Karol has been very nasty,” he pointed out.

Blake repressed an eye-roll. “Do you think either of those two is worse than someone like Yul?” He asked rhetorically.

The other male's orbs widened in shock. He hadn't personally met Yul, but watching Season 2 and All-Stars had been enough for him to know he'd rather keep it that way. “No, of course not! B-But why are you even bringing him up?”

Blake sighed, feigning tiredness. “Those three… they were in an alliance with him back in their debut season, weren't they?” He reminded. “Don't you think they should have been held accountable for that, at least a little?”

The brickhouse's expression grew even more conflicted with that remark.

—Confessional :Will—

He crossed his arms, pondering. “I… Blake may have a point…”

—End Confessional—

Shortly after, Will spotted something, gasping. Sticking his hands in, he carefully pulled out a box of eggs.

Glancing over, Blake nodded approvingly. “Go give it to Alec and Tess,” he told him. “I’ll continue searching here.”

Nodding, Will went on his way back to their soon-to-be team chefs. Now alone, Blake proceeded with his search, until he eventually uncovered a flour sack. “Jackpot,” he said with a smirk, reaching for it. However, the moment his hands touched the burlap, another set of hands took hold of it too.

Blake looked over to see Tom was attempting to grab the burlap sack, too. The flour sack he had spent minutes looking for and uncovering. No way was he letting the himbo snatch the fruits of his effort that easily. “I found and grabbed it first! Let go!” He insisted.

Tom didn't listen, however. Tugging at it, he retorted, “Oh, shut up! How can you even have the gall to accept the invitation to compete when you cheated on Jake?!”

Blake scoffed. “Get off my case! I know you're his husband, but I have zero interest in him, so stop acting all pissy!” With that, he pulled it harder in response to Tom's hostility. Eventually, however, Tom merely let go, the force with which Blake pulled causing the surfer to fall backward. And Tom snatched back the sack before the other could do anything to intervene.

Seeing Tom shoot him a smug smirk while running to deliver the bag to Jake, Blake gritted his teeth. This was really testing his patience.

—Confessional :Tom—

“About time someone put that bastard in his place.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“You know what? I tried to just play the game without going out of my way to screw those two losers. But if that brain-dead himbo thinks he can just mess with me without retaliation, he's got another coming.”

He pointed at the camera.

“The two are going down!”

—End Confessional—

___________

“There you go, Jake,” Tom told his husband, setting the sack on a counter. Giving his beloved a swift smooch, he darted back toward the supply pile.

Jake blushed, watching him go. “I'm so glad I have someone as caring as him by my side,” he told Ellie. “Sometimes, I still feel undeserving of it.”

She brushed off his worries. “Nonsense. That surfer guy made a huge mistake cheating on you,” she assured.

In the meantime, Connor, who had been left leaning against a counter to rest — as the host hadn't bothered to place any chairs around — pushed himself away from the piece of furniture. With the two chefs on his team distracted, he hobbled over to the opposing side, more specifically toward Alec, who stood away from Tess, waiting.

Alec arched an eyebrow upon noticing his older friend coming over. “Connor? What brings you here? You know we shouldn't really interact so openly, given how it may look to the others on our teams,” he noted.

Connor scratched the back of his head. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I just wanted to ask how things are going on your team. I know you guys are the ones who still have all eight members, but some of them don't seem the most pleasant.”

Remorse fleeted across the librarian's face, but he shook it off. “I'm doing decently. Thankfully, I've managed to remain under radar, so I'll just keep doing that.”

The older CEO chuckled. “Good to know. If you need me, you can always-”

“What the hell are you two up to?” Karol's harsh voice inquired, as she accosted the pair. She jabbed a finger at the older male's chest. “This is not your team. And I'll be damned if I let you get any information on us!”

Alec stepped over. “Back off, Karol. It isn't any of your-”

Connor sighed. “It's fine, Alec. I'll go, I hope you do well.” With that, he retreated back to his own team's side.

After that, Karol turned her glare to Alec. “Do not let that happen again, you hear?! You're on thin ice!”

—Confessional :Karol—

“No way in hell am I allowing that sleazy librarian to spill all our secrets for the opposing team to use against us.”

—Confessional :Alec—

“Although I'm not reckless enough to compromise my game by flipping, Karol's bullshit almost seems to tempt me to do so.”

He sighed.

“But we can't let a certain trio go unchecked. I just hope whatever Blake's planning is worth it.”

—End Confessional—

Dan scavenged the heap for something actually useful. He wanted to prove his worth to the team. Especially to stick it to Ellie. He wouldn't go pre-merge again, much less at the hands of her and her team of doormats-

His inner monologue halted, as his eyes fell upon a packet of cocoa powder. They lit up. “Yes!” He let out, grabbing it. At least now, the others couldn't say he didn't contribute-

“Gah!” He cried out, pain assaulting his most sensitive area. He collapsed forth, and a small hand snatched the item.

“Sorry, not sorry,” Fiore taunted, still gripping the rolling pin she had struck him with. Giggling, she raced back to our team's cooking area before Dan could haul himself afoot.

“So now, you're losing to a child?” Ellie's raspy, snarky voice came.

“Screw you, Ellie!”

—Confessional :Dan—

“Why does everything always go wrong for me?!”

—End Confessional—

Away from the chaos, Grett and Alessandro scoured the heap for usable ingredients, the latter purposefully staying near the former.

A few minutes in, Alessandro mustered up the courage to speak. “So, what is your plan if the host decides to be a jerk and make the merge happen super late?”

Grett remained focused on their task, yet replied nonetheless. “We've never had a team phase that didn't end by the halfway point. So, why would this be any different?”

“I mean, the host is completely new,” Alessandro began. “Besides, this isn't the main show, but a spin-off, so it may have a slightly different format.”

“True… but where are you going with this?”

With a deep breath, Alessandro made his pitch. “You know that, after Dan and I go, you're most likely next on the chopping block, right?”

Grett's unfazed expression faltered, a sigh leaving her lips. “That's true. But even if I allied with you two, it still wouldn't be enough. Besides, even if we can tie, I'm unsure on whether to risk making myself a target by flipping on the others.”

Alessandro nodded. “I'll get back to you later. I've got something in mind. Just, please, keep yourself open to hearing it out.”

Eventually, they found eggs, milk and another packet of powder.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Hopefully, Grett won't just snitch on me.”

—Confessional :Grett—

“Given Alessandro divulged the fact he ‘has a plan’ to me, I doubt he's trying to boot me,” she reasoned.

She gazed down.

“And again, he's not wrong with his assessment of how eliminations will go if things aren't disrupted…”

—End Confessional—

Finally, Brian whistled.

“Fifteen minutes are up. Both teams, retreat to your respective side. As for the two chefs from each group, you better hope your desert is the better one…”

___________

A montage commenced.

Jake and Ellie calmly began preparing the batter, their team's efforts having gathered all they needed.

Tess and Alec stared at the lacking poll of options, the latter facepalming.

Jake and Ellie poured the mass into a mold, which they placed on a tray and inserted in the oven.

Karol started screeching at the Ferocious Gophers duo, as they tried to improvise.

Jake and Ellie put the finishing touches on a beautiful, delicious cake.

Alec and Tess awkwardly stared at their own final product.

___________

Brian stared at both cakes — to say the contrast between them was stark would be an understatement. “Well, well, this is a tough call,” he quipped, garnering unamused looks from the Fierce Gophers.

To humor them, he scooped out a spoonful of their bland, misshapen offer, shoving it in his mouth. He chewed… and chewed. Soon, he had to down an entire bottle of water to wash it all down.

“Certainly, very hard.”

He finally took a slice of the Savage Raccoon's cake. Then another. And another.

“10/10. The Savage Raccoons are the winners!” he declared, prompting cheers from them, as the other team groaned.

Jake flipped his ex off. “In your face, Blake!”

“Hell, yeah!” Tom enthused alongside his husband.

Blake rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“Ferocious Gophers…” The host's tone grew grim, as he addressed the losing team. “I'll be seeing you tonight… prepare to lose a member…”

—Confessional :Jake—

He grinned broadly. “It felt so good to finally stick it to Blake! And if I'm lucky, I won't see him again tomorrow!”

—Confessional :Blake—

“I swear, that bastard better not gloat about this tomorrow,” he groused. Inhaling deeply, he smirked. “Regardless, I'm not ending up like Nick tonight… you can be sure of that…”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“So, you want me to vote off Karol alongside you guys?” Will quizzed timidly, preferring to make sure he understood.

Shortly after the team returned to camp, he had been taken aside by Hunter, Ally and Tess, who now pitched a plan to boot Karol. Normally, he'd be on board, but…

“She's been completely disrespectful and nasty,” Ally pointed out. “I think we could all do without her constant screeching.”

“She's been… difficult,” Tess agreed. “And we think the team would work better without her.”

Hunter chimed in last, “She's too bossy to ever vote with the other three, so we don't need to worry about a tiebreaker. And after we boot her, we could always target Fiore next, then Alec or Blake.”

“S-Sure…” Will stammered out. Although Tess raised an eyebrow, the other two took no notice of his nervous tone, so she didn't call it out either. Soon enough, the trio departed, perhaps to spend what little time remained before elimination drawing.

___________

A few minutes before time was up, Blake approached Karol, who had been sitting on a rock by herself. Even though they had an alliance now, she still seemed irked over her solitude getting disrupted.

She scoffed. “What do you want?”

The surfer just smiled. “Well, since I know just how much Hunter, Tess and Ally annoyed you, it's only fair that you get to pick which you want to send packing first. Just whisper your choice to me, Will, Alec and Fiore before we vote,” he offered.

Karol crossed her arms, a dark grin forming on her own countenance.

—Confessional :Blake—

“As much as I love others recognizing my superiority, why not let Karol hog the glory a little — making herself the others’ target, while she's at it?” He chuckled.

—End Confessional—

___________

The sky darkened, night falling upon Camp Tipiskaw. With it, came the dreaded ceremony.

Blake made sure Will remained beside him as they all headed toward the elimination ceremony, with Alec, Fiore and Karol remaining at the back as well.

As they neared the location, Karol finally turned around to face them. “Alright, you four are all voting my way, so here's what we're doing.” Her whispering was picked up by Hunter's here. Although he couldn't decipher what exactly she was saying, he still looked over his shoulder to shoot her a stern glare.

___________

Everyone sat on wooden stomps, facing Brian, who stood with the crackling flames of bonfire behind him — imbuing him with a menacing aura.

“Well, well, well — looks like you couldn't go two episodes without a loss. So sad that you won't be surpassing green or red team anytime soon,” Brian chuckled.

The contestants gave unimpressed looks in response.

The host tsk-tsked. “You're no fun. But regardless, get voting!”

___________

Hunter scrawled down the name with a frown. “This is for calling my girlfriend all those nasty things,” he spat, shoving the ballot into the urn.

Tess was rather worried, yet wrote her vote without hesitation.

“Next time, learn to have some tact,” Ally scolded, casting her vote.

Fiore wrote down a name, not looking too invested.

Alec seemed to debate his options briefly, before penning his vote.

Karol smirked darkly, jotting down the name with excitement.

Blake wrote down his vote, his smirk devilish. “Now who's the puppet-master?”

___________

“The votes have been tallied,” Brian declared. “If anyone's found an immunity idol, now's your chance to use it!”

No one stood up.

“Very well. The person with the most votes may kiss their dreams of winning goodbye.”

He grabbed the ballots, starting to reveal their contents one by one.

“First vote…

Karol!”

Karol frowned, as Hunter and Ally sent her smug smirks.

“Second vote…

Karol!”

Her scowl deepened.

The gamer girl and her boyfriend shared giddy looks.

“Third vote…

Karol!”

She clenched her fists.

“Game over,” the gamer girl whispered smugly, getting a chuckle from Hunter.

“Fourth vote…

Ally!”

This eased her tension.

“What?” Hunter mumbled, not expecting any votes against his girlfriend.

“Fifth vote…

Ally!”

Karol heaved a relieved sigh.

“Oh no…” Tess whispered, as it dawned on her first.

“Sixth vote…

Ally!”

She smirked.

Glimpsing the trio's horrified expressions, Will averted his gaze guiltily.

“Seventh vote…

Ally!”

She turned toward the gamer girl. “You were saying?”

Ally hung her head.

“2nd person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle… Ally! That's five votes. Time for you to go.”

“No!” Hunter cried out, springing up. “This can't be!”

Karol crossed her arms smugly. “Well, the votes don't lie, pasty! Seems you'll be without your little gamer sl-”

Hunter rushed toward her. “You fucking bitch!” He barked. But Ally and Tess held him back.

Ally got in front of him. “Hunter… please, don't doom yourself too. I… I should have known my stay here would be short-lived after I placed third in All-Stars…”

“We will continue on, for you,” Tess assured her best friend, her own orbs welling up.

“I… promise… I'll kick ass for you,” Hunter choked out between sobs. Touched, Ally yanked her boyfriend into a passionate kiss, his arms instinctively wrapping around her, as he reciprocated the intensity. They lost themselves in the moment.

Brian cleared his throat. “We're on a schedule.”

Finally, Ally detached from Hunter. Waving him and Tess one final farewell, she departed Camp Tipiskaw to be picked up by the Bus of Losers.

___________

—Confessional :Tess—

“This team… it's gone downhill faster than Cyan…” she said, covering her face with her hands, letting tears flow freely.

—Confessional :Karol—

She chuckled. “Ahhh… giving that gamer bitch what she deserved felt so satisfying.

—Confessional :Hunter—

A scowl had overtaken his countenance, which was dusted with tears. “I'm not letting this go. I saw Karol whisper something to the rest while we were heading to elimination. I should've spoken up then, I should have stopped it… I…” He clenched a fist. “Karol is going down, I swear…”

—Confessional :Blake—

He smirked. “Well, well, well. This went perfectly. Now, that trio is reduced to a duo. One of the two All-Stars finalists that returned for this season is gone already. And if anything comes up, all the heat will just fall on a certain Karen.”

—End Confessional—

Chapter Text

Brian stood in front of the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw. “Last time on Disventure Camp : Old Scores To Settle!”

Snippets of episode 2 started playing, as the host narrated over them.

“After our first boot departed, tensions continued rising on the Savage Raccoons, as Dan was not too pleased to see that Ellie had indeed attempted to target him…” Scenes of them arguing came, before switching to the challenge. “But the teams soon had to try and quell their heat, so their cakes wouldn't get burned.” Flash to Tom and Blake's scuffle, as well as Karol confronting Alec and Connor. “Though, some mishaps did happen all the same. But hey, some others used their brains!” Cut to Alessandro talking to Grett, as well as Blake's conversations with both Will and Karol.

“In the end, thanks to Blake's alliance, as well as Karol's tendency to hold grudges, Ally became our 2nd boot. Geez, to go from 6th place to 3rd, then all the way down to 15th must suck.”

Brian laughed at her expense, before flinging both arms up.

“14 players remain! Who will be voted out tonight?”

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“I… I just can't believe she got voted out so soon…”

Around half an hour had elapsed since Ally's elimination. The walk back to the campsite had been uneventful. Neither Hunter nor Tess had retained enough will or energy to even lash out, too spent processing what transpired.

Now, however, with the others slumbering within the tents, they remained awake, on one of the logs beside the firepit.

Tess set a slightly trembling hand on Hunter's shoulder. “It's awful… but… we can't mope…” she insisted, as much as her own heart ached like his. She clenched a quivering hand into a fist, her other one gripping his shoulder just a tad tighter. “Remember what you promised her.”

Hunter shook her hand off his shoulder. Not out of malice, of course, but stress. “I know what I promised, okay? I just… I just feel so lost. What do I- what do we even do now?”

“We should try and make the merge, at least. She would want us to do well here,” she pointed out.

Hunter nodded, wiping tears off his face. He tried his damned hardest to suppress his heartbreak, even as his chest throbbed. “You're right… I can't just sit here, crying my eyes out.”

—Confessional :Tess—

“I'm glad I managed to get him to pull himself back together…” She sighed. “I just hope whatever happened won't embitter him too much.”

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Tess is right. Sulking won't improve things. It will just let Karol dispose of the two of us next without issue.” He clenched his fists. “First thing in the morning, I think I'll have a little chat with a certain someone…”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

Sunlight shone down upon the campsite, the morning sky a spotless, bright ocean.

Tom and Jake lounged around the firepit. Each held a long wooden stick above the crackling flames, so as to roast the apples impaled on it. As their fruit slowly baked from the heat, Jake rested his head on Tom's shoulder, a content smile on his lips.

Tom's orbs drift over to his beloved, noticing how much more at ease he seemed compared to yesterday. His heart swelled with affection, his gaze fixated on his husband's beautiful face. Reaching out with his free hand, he gently brushed a stray strand of dark-bluish hair away from his gorgeous eyes.

“You seem… in a better mood again now,” Tom brought up. “I like it.”

Jake beamed his way. “Well, sticking it to Blake after all those years just felt great, I guess,” he admitted sheepishly. “Petty, I know-”

Tom chuckled good-naturedly, patting his shoulder. “I haven't even known the asshole for a week, and I already hate him.” His laughter trailed off, his expression growing serious. “Years of dealing with that bastard would have driven me insane. So, don't you ever dare feel like a bad person for delivering some overdue karma.”

Jake blushed, snuggling closer. “Thank you…”

“And with some luck, Blake may have gotten voted off,” Tom mentioned, his optimism cheering up his husband.

Both heard something unzip, turning their heads toward the source to see Ellie and Connor exiting their tent. Heading over, the two sat on the log opposite theirs.

“Hopefully, Karol, Alec and Fiore will soon follow,” Ellie quipped, receiving nods from the couple.

Connor hummed before speaking up. “I get what you mean with Karol, and somewhat Fiore too — that girl's mind clearly got messed up early on, and I doubt staying in this game is doing it any favors —, but Alec isn't really all bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so…” she answered in an intentionally exaggerated manner, drawing chuckles from the others.

From within the tent they had come from, Grett watched with slight apprehension. The model's warnings replayed in her head, seeming more and more plausible. She wondered how long the team phase would last. Would sticking to using Dan and Alessandro as a buffer really be sufficient to get her to merge? A growing part of her would rather not risk it.

—Confessional :Grett—

“I hope Alessandro and Dan actually come up with something soon. Because I don't feel good about where on the team I'll place once they're gone,” she admitted.

—End Confessional—

Over at what was basically the outcast tent, Alessandro and Dan held a strategic discussion. There former re-read the advantage yet again, then looked at Dan.

“It can be delivered prior to the ceremony, from the moment the team has lost,” he pointed out. “That means whichever one of us delivers it would have the chance to persuade the host and ensure his wording when revealing the advantage is vague enough to where the plan works.”

Dan put a finger to his chin in thought. “Do we really have to ensure Grett's involvement remains a mystery?” He questioned. “Theoretically, all we have to do is make sure she votes with us. If the advantage is revealed after votes are counted, and she gets exposed, she won't have much power to retaliate, anyway. Besides, it could make her the next target, drawing all the heat off us.”

Although Alessandro deliberated over that, the model ultimately shook his head. “I mean, don't get me wrong, it could work,” he started, making sure the other knew he valued his input. “But with Grett being friends with Ellie, someone you're already on bad terms with, I think it's best if we play it safe and don't risk making an enemy out of her.” He let silence linger for a few seconds to allow the other to process it. “That's why, as much as it may upset you, we won't be pitching Ellie as the target,” he revealed apologetically.

Dan sighed, deferring to his point. It was unfortunate, but he understood the logic behind it. It wasn't as though the model was purposefully refusing to have them take some golden opportunity to take out Ellie. Alessandro was looking out for their safety. The most optimal course of action to ensure their survival just so happened not to allow them to target Ellie yet.

Besides, deep down, the nerd felt just playing a secondary role in a blindside against her would leave him unsatisfied. He… he wanted her downfall to be planned and set in motion by his own hands. For her to be unable to deny how he outplayed her.

“It's fine,” Dan finally replied. “You're right. We need to focus on the game.” Setting his grudge toward the ginger-haired girl aside for now, he recalled the model's recount of testing the waters. “But… regardless of who we target, how do we know Grett won't just snitch on us if we show her the advantage to try and convince her — or worse, attempt to just steal it for herself? You did say she told you she wasn't sure about potentially putting a target on her back by flipping.”

Alessandro extended an open palm toward him. “Do you by any chance have a pen you can hand over?” he requested.

Intrigued, Dan thrust a hand in his pocket. Perhaps he was too extra. After all, he preferred storing information in his brain to jotting it down on a piece of paper someone else might find. But he always felt off whenever he didn't have one in his person.

“Here,” he said, fishing out a pen and placing it on the model's palm. “What do you need it for.”

“I have an idea,” Alessandro assured. “But for the sake of not facing unnecessary risk, I'll only go for it if we do happen to lose a challenge.” Sensing his ally's curiosity, he checked their surroundings to ensure none of their teammates were spying on them, then leaned in to whisper into Dan's ear.

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“How could you go behind our backs like this?”

Will flinched back. Scooting toward the end of the log he sat on, he averted his gaze in shame. He didn't know what answer to give. His fingers, even with his hands laid over his lap, still fidgeted, as he wished he'd elected to accompany Blake on his search for supplies.

As soon as the surfer had left to scour the woods, the meek brickhouse had been accosted by Hunter. Needless to say, the latter was not pleased with last night's elimination.

Hunter wasn't deterred by his silence. “Why did you even do it?! Answer me!” He snapped, further worrying Tess, who stood behind him.

Gripping his navy shorts tightly with anxiety, Will stammered out a reply. “I… I just… I did what was best for my game,” he finally settled on — mainly since he vaguely recalled a similar quote coming from Ally in All-Stars. Even with a probably widely different context and tone, he hoped the loose similarities would perhaps make Hunter more empathetic.

How foolish…

This didn't slow the raging flames crackling within Hunter at all. “You mean, make us three the minority in a team of assholes?!” he spat bitterly, making the other hang his head dejectedly. With a cynical clap, he added, “Great game move right there.” He loomed over Will, the latter too nervous to realize he'd tower over the other if he, too, stood up.

Finally, Tess decided this was too much. “Hunter, stop, you're going too far,” she told him, clasping his right wrist. “Shouting and getting riled up won't help us either…” Though she could feel the tension linger under Hunter's skin, he listened to her, taking a step or two away from Will. Figuring it was better to keep them both away from one another, she spoke again, tugging gently at Hunter's wrist while at it. “Let's take a walk.”

Eventually, Hunter obliged, turning his back to Will and following Tess, who began leading him away. However, just before the duo evanesced into the trees fringing the campsite, he glanced over his shoulder. His frigid glare sent another wave of tremors across the gentle giant's figure.

“You know? I'm starting to think you should have just been left as a forgotten first boot.”

—Confessional :Will—

“I… I was just trying to make… sound moves…” He shifted in the stump with guilt.

—End Confessional—

A few minutes later, Fiore nonchalantly ambled over, her diary under her arm. Hopping onto the other log, she opened it and started casually jotting down something, not acknowledging the other's presence.

Perhaps it was petty, but Will felt exasperation rise within him. Like, seriously? He had just faced confrontation — something he already wasn't good at handling in the slightest. All over trying to navigate the game using his head instead of his heart. And now, she, of all people, was here? Despite his best efforts, he couldn't disregard her. Her mere presence in his vicinity nagged at him. He let out a huff, his voice straining not to be imbued with his exasperation.

“Aren't you usually around Alec?”

Fiore looked up from whatever she was writing. Seemingly reading the other like a book, she rolled her eyes. “He's reading another novel inside the tent, and I wanted to catch some fresh air.” When the guy didn't reply or show any indication of his attitude changing, she scoffed. “And here I thought surviving an elimination ceremony would make you less butthurt over getting booted three years ago.”

Will's face flushed with embarrassment. But he masked it as quickly as he could, doing his best to frown. “Don't act like I got upset over nothing. Y-You lied about what happened up that hill, made me look crazy in front of my alliance. That's what ended my run that season. Then, you went on to doom Purple Team.”

At this, Fiore snarled. Here the moron was, claiming she was at fault for every loss purple team faced. She couldn't stand it anymore. Springing up to her feet, she pointed at him angrily.

“Just shut up with that already,” she spat. “I already had to deal with Ashley slandering me like that, when I'm actually the one who came up with the tactics that got purple team the win in episodes 1 and 7. Besides, it's not like you were booted unfairly. You chickening out is what cost us that challenge!”

Silenced, all Will could was stare at her in bewilderment. Grabbing her diary, Fiore stormed back inside the tent.

Eyes going downcast again, Will remained alone once more for several minutes, reflecting. Had he made the wrong choice? His heart affirmed the notion; however, he reminded himself of Blake's argument. Those three had been tight-knit, and would definitely choose one another over him once it came down to it. But we he that much safer siding with the others-

“Dude, you look so bummed out,” a certain surfer's chill voice snapped him out of introspection. Blake had returned, the basket — now filled with berries and apples — set atop his shoulder. “Did something hassle you while I was gone?” He asked, taking his seat on the other log, placing the basket on its end.

—Confessional :Will—

“Hunter and Tess probably want nothing to do with me now. Fiore is Fiore, and she and Alec are inseparable. Karol… she's scarier than that ultra gory horror movie Nick bribed a cinema into playing instead of the one Ashley, Lill and I had bought tickets for that one time.”

He shivered at the memory.

“So, Blake is really my only friend — or ally.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“After last challenge, Karol pulled me aside to complain about Alec interacting with Connor. Won't make much of a fuss about it for now, though I encouraged Karol not to let it slide. For now, at least, his attention should remain on her.”

He crossed his arms.

“But still, might as well tell Will the ‘truth’ first.” He smirked. “Given what he told me about his interactions with Hunter, Tess and Fiore, I think now's the perfect time.”

—End Confessional—

Blake sighed in feigned shame. “You know… though I do still stand by my argument that that trio was too much of a threat to be left unchecked, I'm sorry if I felt pushy.” He didn't let the other reply just yet, continuing. “The whole Yul comparison might have been petty. But it was Alec's idea, and I figured the jerk would blame anything that went wrong on me if I didn't do things his way.”

Will cupped a hand over his mouth, realization dawning on him.

Blake averted his gaze with faux guilt. “Sorry for wrecking your connection to Hunter and Tess. I… I just couldn't join those three with you, you know? Even if we got to the merge before we had to turn on each other, I would be screwed. With what Jake brought up the moment he saw me again, I'll be a massive target once the teams are disbanded — and those three would definitely turn on me at that point.”

Sympathizing with the surfer's apparent plight, Will spoke. “It's… It's okay. Even if cheating on Jake was wrong, getting put on the spot over it after two years must be awful.” He chuckled, then spoke in a slightly self-deprecating manner. “Besides, I probably would be screwing up worse if left to my own devices… given what happened in season 1.”

Taking a deep breath, Blake seized the chance to divert the conversation back to Will. “Don't worry, dude. I swear I'll help you do much better this time,” he assured.

Will smiled. “Thanks, Blake.”

“You-re welcome.” A sly smirk crossed his face. “Let's just agree not to forget about one another throughout any future elimination ceremonies, alright?” He extended an open hand, which the other shook in agreement.

—Confessional :Blake—

He snickered. “Funny thing is, though I may be deceiving that brickhouse quite a bit, that promise isn't even a lie. Just omitted the context, so he can come to his own wrong conclusions regarding it.”

He leaned back, his head resting against his crossed arms.

“He's the closest thing to a number one ally I have right now. And even if I find someone better to fill that role, I don't see disposing of him becoming beneficial to my game anytime soon.”

—End Confessional—

For once, no important exchanges were interrupted once the loudspeakers activated.

“Attention, campers! Meet me at the beach in fifteen minutes!”

___________

Cut to the sandy grounds abutting the lake, with the Savage Raccoons already standing before Brian.

“I hope Blake is gone,” Jake told Tom, who gave a nod of agreement and kept him close.

“Honestly, aside from Hunter, Tess and Ally, is there really anyone on that team we wouldn't want gone?” Ellie mentioned sassily, eliciting a snicker from Grett. Discomfort fleeted past Connor's countenance — likely since he hoped to still see Alec with the other team — but he didn't comment on it.

Someone that did respond was Dan, who shot Ellie an irked leer. “Did you also forget Will's existence now? Or do you think anyone who's placed low last time they played just doesn't deserve to be here?” He accused, much to Alessandro's subtle dismay.

She rolled her eyes at that. “You certainly shouldn't be here. All you've done is pick fights without reason.” The only thing that got Dan seething more than that claim were the expressions of agreement shared by Jake, Tom and Connor specifically.

On the verge of exploding, Dan was suddenly stopped by Alessandro. The model set a hand on his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, the nerd recognized an almost pleading countenance. One of a person trying to prevent someone they care about from rashly worsening their situation.

Dan reluctantly backed off, though resentment still simmered within him.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I'm so sick of Ellie. Why does everyone keep siding with her?!”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I really hope Dan's outbursts don't discourage Grett from potentially siding with us.” He rubbed his temples. “With the way the others are taking Ellie's side, I think I can confidently say sticking with them once merge hits is a bad idea.” He got a determined look on. “I guess it may be wise to start preparing ahead of time.”

—End Confessional—

Just then, the other team emerged from the woods, their presence announced by the host as they came to stand beside their opponents.

“As you can see, Ally became the 2nd person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Hunter crossed his arms with a bitter frown over this reminder. Tess sighed miserably, giving him a worried glance. Karol smirked at their tribulation. Will rubbed his sleeve guiltily, receiving a pat on the back from Blake. Fiore and Alec's expressions remained neutral.

“Tess… are you okay?” Ellie asked, concerned for her college buddy.

Dan narrowed his gaze toward her. Oh, so now she wanted to be respectful? Alessandro slung an arm over his shoulder, shaking his head to signal for him to make a snide remark. The nerd nodded reluctantly, aware he'd look like a total asshole if he made a snarky comment now.

“Not really,” Tess admitted softly. “But… it's the game we signed up for. No point in growing nasty over it.”

Jake spoke up next, however. “Seriously, how did this happen? Four assholes on the team, and Ally got booted over any of them?! Over an asshole like Blake?!”

Blake gritted his teeth a bit. “You should really worry about your own team,” he hissed, finding it immensely hard to refrain from barking out something more hostile.

Tom stepped in front of his husband, glowering at the surfer. “Don't you dare talk to him like that, you hear me? You have no right to disrespect him that way,” he threatened.

Rolling his eyes, Blake strode closer himself. He wouldn't back down. “Rich of you to say that,” he retorted. “Who was the one who started shit mid-challenge yesterday again?” He pointed to the himbo sternly. “Don't act like you're not constantly antagonizing me.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“I am so sick of those self-righteous dumbasses,” he vented.

—Confessional :Dan—

“So, Tom is another person's Ellie?” Moments later, he shrugged. “Well, guess I now know how they're now on decent terms after beefing throughout the whole All-Stars pre-merge.” He put on his best mockingly sweet voice. “They must have realized they have so much in common, they'd be crazy not to be buddies.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He winked at the camera. “Only validates my idea further.”

—End Confessional—

Before Blake and Tom's argument could proceed, Brian cleared his throat loudly.

The two backed off, returning to their respective teams; however, they still glared daggers at one another. Jake was grateful for Tom's compulsion to defend him, whilst Will gazed at Blake with worry.

Satisfied, the host gestured toward the delineated area used to play dodgeball two days ago. “You'll be returning to that spot over there. However, this time you won't be playing a sport, not exactly.” He fished out an empty, bland pouch. “Across that portion of land, we've buried a bunch of these.” He tossed it up and caught it.

“Each round, a pair consisting of one member from each team is to go digging for one of these. Once a pouch is found, neither player can continue digging for another — and whoever holds, or was last holding it, when it goes beyond denoted boundaries wins a point.”

Brian raised a finger, wearing a cheeky smirk.

“Of course, pouches filled with nothing but air would be a buzzkill. To avoid that, each one holds a couple puzzle pieces.”

Dan hummed with intrigued. Sure, digging wasn't his forte — he wasn't good at anything physical, really. But puzzle pieces? Maybe he'd finally get to show off his value…

Noticing the nerd's interest, Brian nodded his way. With a chuckle, he beckoned the contestants to follow, leading them toward two tables set just a couple feet away from where the dense woods began.

“We didn't choose for the loot to be puzzle pieces on a whim, obviously. Part 2 of this challenge will also be a duel of sorts, sans any direct confrontation. Instead, both teams will have a member try and assemble what loot their respective teammates retrieved. They'll have fifteen minutes to do so, before I go and check which team has put more of their puzzle back together.”

Karol interjected, unimpressed. “Why are you only letting one person from each team do part 2?”

Brian shrugged. “Because I feel like it. Besides, said player will be sitting out during part 1, anyway-”

“So, the rest of us are supposed to stand and do nothing? Might as well return to camp after my turn has passed,” Karol pestered. “Figures someone like you would have no idea how to run things-”

“You can go only a few dozen yards into the woods. And before you ask, the crew will check for any rule-breakers while watching footage for this episode. So, no, you can't return to your team's campsite mid-challenge,” the host barked, irritated. Composing himself, he concluded his speech. “If that's all, I'll give you all three minutes to choose who is staying by the tables to handle the second half of the challenge.”

Immediately, Dan raised a hand.

—Confessional :Dan—

“Obviously, I'd rather not partake in part 1. I'm not leaving myself open to any further smartass comments from a certain someone…”

—End Confessional—

Amongst the Fierce Gophers, Fiore was swiftly singled out. She didn't mind, preferring to avoid getting punted across the beach.

Once three minutes were up, Brian whistled. “Alright, now onto the challenge! Who's scavenging for treasure first.”

Without much hesitation, Blake stepped forth. “I'll go,” he affirmed, facing no opposition. Overhearing this, Tom came forward for his own team, seeming determined to humble the surfer or something.

Brian snickered. “This will be good…”

___________

Cut to both sprinting into the denoted area, crouching down and beginning to dig a decent distance from one another. Tension pervaded every inch of this scene.

___________

In the meantime, Karol took the opportunity to address Alec dourly. “You better not have leaked anything to that old man yesterday,” she admonished, jabbing a finger at his chest.

Alec gazed on ahead, arms crossed. He was tired of her draining pettiness and constant accusations and threats. And so, he denied her an answer, hoping she'd wear herself out eventually.

Karol clenched her fists with a scowl. Not about to tolerate getting disregarded like this, she leaned over to whisper harshly in the librarian's ear. “Understand that I'm the one calling the shots. If you even think of going behind my back, you're not only out of the alliance, but becoming the next target.”

Alec's face scrunched up with exasperation of his own. “Understood,” he forced himself to respond.

From the opposing team, Connor noted the exchange. Although he couldn't hear their words, he discerned something amiss, rousing his suspicions and concern.

—Confessional :Connor—

He stroked his chin in thought. “I think things aren't as fine as Alec claimed yesterday. I hope I'll get to talk to him about it. He's become a rather good friend of mine since we last competed on this show, and I don't want him to revert to a mindset he may regret.”

—End Confessional—

At last, Blake dug up a pouch first. “Yes!” he whispered to himself victoriously. He was quick to stand up. But didn't get to take off running, as Tom tackled him faster than last time. Even so, the surfer did his best to keep the pouch away from the himbo, who continued attempting to reach for it.

Blake thrust a hand against his opponent's face in an attempt to shove him away. “Get your scar-littered self off me, you bastard!” He barked, recklessly taking shots at what was clearly a rather sensitive subject.

Tom snarled. He might have grown out of most insecurities regarding his scars. But that didn't make blatantly derogatory remarks about them any less triggering, especially when coming from someone he had an inherent hatred toward already. Impulse took over, his knee soaring up and right into the surfer's stomach.

Blake let out a sharp cry of agony, the pouch coming off his grasp, as he also got sand thrown in his eyes. Before Tom could fetch it, however, the surfer headbutted him hard.

Flooded with adrenaline, Blake didn't let Tom regain his bearings. Lashing a foot forth, he kicked the cop off himself. As Tom struggled to get back up, the surfer groped the ground for the pouch. Upon finding and getting a hold of it again, he swiftly rolled out of the circumscribed area.

“And after that messy tussle, Blake has brought his team some loot,” Brian announced gleefully.

Jake rushed over to his husband, helping him get on his feet and back to their team. “Are you okay, Tom?” He asked frantically, only calming down somewhat upon receiving a nod. His head snapped toward his ex. “Screw you, Blake!”

Managing to stand straight and gritting his teeth, Blake stormed off into the trees. Brian reiterated his warning for him not to go too far in. “I get it!” The surfer shouted back, soon disappearing from sight.

Jake glared in the direction the surfer had gone. Soon enough, though, his gaze fell back on his husband, softening. “Tom… I'm so sorry. If I had just volunteered to go, you wouldn't have gotten-”

“Don't,” Tom cut him off, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I chose to step up after seeing Blake was competing this round. What happened is on me, not you.”

As they conversed, Alessandro turned to Grett and Ellie. “Can I go last? I kind of have an emergency…” He stepped back and forth in place, giving the impression he needed to eject something. The other two shuddered in realization, eyes widening, before nodding. “Thanks,” the model replied, skittering into the woods.

Dan watched his friend go, unease soon seeping in.

—Confessional :Dan—

He sighed. “Fine, I won't try and hide it from those of you watching. Given Alessandro has been the only person I can consider my ally ever since the season started, I kind of… don't like being left to deal with the others without him.”

—End Confessional—

“So, who's going next?” Brian demanded.

Karol gave Alec a not so light elbow to the side. “You should go, just so you don't risk going against someone that may… distract you…” To say her tone was passive-aggressive would be quite the understatement.

Alec sighed. “Fine, let's get this over with.”

Hunter, who had been standing silently next to Tess this whole time, narrowed his eyes, overhearing the interaction.

—Confessional :Hunter—

He crossed his arms. “Okay, it was already obvious before, but at this point? Karol may as well be holding a sign that reads, I'm a controlling Karen who's allying with desperate people to boss them around.” He pointed at the screen. “First chance I get, I'm taking her out, even if it somehow leaves my game more screwed than it already is.”

—End Confessional—

In an ironic twist of fate, Karol's demands soon backfired.

With a determined glint in his eyes, Connor raised a hand. “I'll go out there this round.”

Karol scowled. “What?!” Growling, she turned to Alec. “Nevermind, you're staying put until next round-”

The host interjected, wagging a finger. “No going back after stepping up for the team,” he stated. Karol saw red. Frustrated beyond belief, she took off her shoe and hurled it toward the forest.

Dan yelped, as it instead collided with his face. As he felt his aching skin, he gasped. “My glasses!” His vision was blurry, and he knew it wouldn't end well, given his elimination episode back in his debut season. “Um… Brian?” He called out to the host. “Can I head back to camp for a moment to fetch the spare pair I brought?”

The host shook his head. “Sorry, rules are rules. But, to make up for it, Karol won't be able to have a turn, so one of you won't even have to compete!” He threw a pouch for Dan to catch, but the latter's blurry vision prevented him from successfully doing just that. Thus, the nerd's face was hit again.

—Confessional :Dan—

He facepalmed. “Extra pieces are worth nothing when I can barely even discern the palm of my hand, even when holding it right before my face!”

Standing up to walk off, he hit a trunk, falling backward with a cry.

—End Confessional—

Both Connor and Alec raced into the indicated area, getting on their knees and starting to dig. Unlike Tom and Blake, they stayed very close in order to talk.

“So, um, I know yesterday you said you were doing well…” Connor began.

The librarian's orbs drifted away from him, lips expelling a sigh. “I did…” He shoveled away sand at a faster pace, clearly starting to struggle to keep a secret. “Just… look… I'm just doing what I must to increase my odds of getting to the finale. I still could use the money, and Fiore herself is in a bit of a bad situation.”

The CEO arched an eyebrow. “You once said you and Fiore agreed you were better off not adopting her, especially since she has parents. She was just put in a boarding school, right?”

Alec frowned. “That changed-” He caught himself, not wanting to spill the secret. “I can't tell you more. I'm sorry. And I don't want to put you at risk by divulging stuff about the team that I shouldn't.” He snuck a glance toward Karol, who was tapping her foot impatiently.

Hunter and Tess stood a few feet away from the impatient, middle-aged woman. The former squinted her way.

—Confessional :Hunter—

He exhaled in frustration. “I know you all may be asking why Tess and I haven't talked to their team about everyone else ganging up on us basically.” He crossed his arms. “I take responsibility for that, just so you know. Because of that team consisting mostly of Jake, Tom and some supporters of the two, I imagine they want Blake to lose as soon as possible. And if they know about the hierarchy here, they may start playing dirtier in hopes of eventually getting Blake at risk.”

He held both hands up defensively.

“I know I'm making assumptions, but I can't afford not to consider that possibility. If this team loses right now, Tess and I will be the ones on the chopping block!”

—End Confessional—

___________

A balled fist collided with the bark of an oak tree repeatedly. Rage and embarrassment imbued each swing.

Blake snarled, inwardly berating himself. How could he let that damn himbo get the better of him again? It didn't matter that he'd ultimately gotten the pouch. After yesterday, he shouldn't have let anyone knock him down!

He could just picture his father's condescending, judgmental face looking down on him. The jackass likely would try pinning this on the surfer's sexuality, as though it was something he just chose on a whim. He kicked the base of the trunk, disregarding the aching it caused his foot.

“Um… what are you doing?” A velvety voice quizzed from behind the surfer. Inhaling deeply, Blake wheeled around and was greeted by Alessandro. The model's grayish-green orbs alighted upon the other's reddened fist. “That's bound to bruise…”

Blake huffed, running his other hand across his very dark, brown hair. “Whatever, not really your business. Why are you even talking to me?”

Alessandro played coy, swaying in place with both hands behind his back. “Well, I wanted to propose something to you… Buuuut I guess you're not interested.” He turned around. “I get it. I suppose Karol won't be pleased if she finds you talking to someone from the other team, so I'll just leave you be.” Taking a step forth, he heard the rapid noise of leaves crunching under footsteps, before his wrist was seized.

“Nevermind. What do you have in mind?” Blake questioned, now intrigued.

Smirking, Alessandro turned back around to face the surfer. “Simple. I can see you… don't get along too well with Tom and Jake.” Noticing the other's fists clenching, he proceeded. “Don't worry, I won't pry into your history with the latter. Regardless, those two have… quite the number of connections.”

Extricating his hand from the other man's grasp, he elaborated. “Despite being enemies with her for quite a while, Tom and Jake now get along with Ellie. With her taking their side, it's likely they'd get Tess to join once merge hits — meaning, they'd have a pretty decent shot at earning Hunter's loyalty, too.” He snapped his fingers idly as he ruminated further. “Oh, they also have Connor, which could be even worse for you.”

Blake tensed, having an inkling regarding what he referred to. Even so, he arched an eyebrow curiously. “Why so?”

The model hummed before responding. “Don't worry about me divulging this information to them, but… I've noticed enough to deduce you've formed an alliance with the other… less than popular contestants on your team, including Alec and Fiore. It's the game, after all.”

Scanning their surroundings to ascertain they weren't being watched, Blake reluctantly nodded. “You caught me,” he conceded. “But whatever about those two?”

Alessandro chuckled. “Well, with how Connor and Alec have started interacting this season, who knows? It's just a hypothetical scenario, but how would you carry on if Jake and Tom had Connor convince Alec to join their side come the merge? Not to mention, Fiore would likely follow the librarian in his decision.”

“True,” Blake groaned. “Great. And here I was, thinking I'll finally have more freedom to show off once merge hits. Now I have to deal with knowing I'll probably be ganged up on by at least 75% of however many players remain by that point.”

The model shook his head with another chuckle, patting his shoulder. “Don't worry. Me and… a buddy of mine are already struggling on our team. And we aren't really looking forward to such a merge either. So, if we'll have the same enemy, why not join forces early?”

This offer piqued Blake's interest.

“You mean, form an alliance?”

Winking once, Alessandro proffered a hand.

A second later, Blake shook it with a smirk.

___________

Though Connor and Alec spoke too quietly for anyone to discern what they were saying, it pissed Karol off regardless.

“QUIT YAPPING WITH THAT OLD MAN AND LOCK IN, YOU DUMBASS!”

Wincing, Connor still replied to the librarian nonetheless. “Just meet me after the challenge, please?” His concerned tone broke through the other's reservations.

Heaving a sigh, Alec relented. “Fine.” Just then, he dug up a pouch. Before Connor could even process it, the librarian grabbed it and ran out the playing area swiftly.

“And Alec scores for his team.”

Poor Alec didn't get a moment of peace. As Karol stalked over and began ranting in his face, Tess and Hunter exchanged tired glances.

Hunter noticed Ellie volunteering to go next for her team, then looked back at Tess. “You deserve the chance to speak to another friendly face,” he said, allowing her to go next.

“Thanks, Hunter,” Tess responded, an appreciative smile on her face, in spite of the two's less than stellar situation. “I'll make sure to stick with lying low, if you really think it's for the best.”

Despite everything, Hunter allowed himself to reciprocate the smile. He figured he should enjoy this brief, pleasant moment, given both knew it wouldn't last.

___________

Brian watched, now holding a drink he had an intern bring to him. “This next part will definitely bore everyone if we let it play out in full.” He sipped his beverage. “Whoever's getting their minimum wage by being our editor, keep this concise.”

A montage depicted the next couple rounds.

Tess and Ellie scavenged the sand. The former found the loot first, but didn't put up much of a fight afterward, so the latter easily snatched it and claimed victory.

Next, Hunter and Jake. Jake unearthed a pouch first. However, knowing who would be on the chopping block if the Fierce Gophers lost, Hunter tackled him and swiftly nabbed the loot for his team.

___________

Alessandro emerged from the woods. Immediately, he stumbled upon the sight of Dan blundering on his knees, searching for the broken remains of his glasses.

The model winced, crouching to help his friend up. “What happened while I was gone?”

The nerd sighed miserably. “Long story. But hey, at least you won't have to go out there. Karol got disqualified from participating in this challenge, and Grett is already volunteering.” Even though Dan's current condition stopped him from pointing in the correct direction, Alessandro spotted the rest of their team anyway.

Seeing they were occupied, the model took the opportunity to whisper in Dan's ear.

___________

Will was digging as fast as he could. He once thought his very short run last season — more specifically, his second, and ultimately last, episode competing — had been a mess. But compared to this? That may as well have been a spotless ordeal. Perhaps that was the one good thing about being a first boot. Not getting far enough to be confronted with dilemma after dilemma. His experience with season 1 had been short, simple and concise : coming in, getting recruited into a majority alliance, then getting framed and booted.

This time? It felt like the universe was bombarding him with morally-gray choices and consequences left and right, and this was still just the third round-!

Grett rammed into the brickhouse, knocking him to the side. In his rumination, he had dug up a pouch without noticing. Before he could process this, his opponent seized the loot and crossed the line.

“And the Savage Raccoons get the final loot, all thanks to Grett!” Brian declared.

Hauling himself afoot, Will meekly returned to his team, head hung in shame. He tensed, feeling a certain person's orbs bore a hole into him.

“Are you kidding me?!” Karol shouted. “You're over six feet tall, yet got beaten by that still out-of-shape fitness influencer wannabe?!” She didn't care about the glares that earned her from the other team.

Before she could go on, another voice interjected. “Let's just focus.”

The others turned to see Blake finally return.

“Blake,” Will spoke first, surprisingly enough. “What took you so long? Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah, I just needed some time to cool off,” he assured.

—Confessional :Blake—

“Actually, it was intentional on my and Alessandro's part,” he revealed. “We figured coming back at the same time would be rather suspicious. And since I had already done my turn, I waited a few more minutes so others won't suspect a thing.”

—End Confessional—

Brian clapped, drawing everyone's attention back to him. “Enough rambling. I'm already regretting greenlighting this challenge, so let's get the rest of it over with already!” The contestants were taken aback by the host's sudden sore mood, a few even flinching back. “Fiore, Dan — the fate of your respective teams now rests solely on you.”

Alessandro inched closer to his team's table, before the host pushed him back without warning.

“Oh, and when I said they'll be the only ones able to undertake this second phase of the challenge, it means no help.”

At that news, Fiore shrugged confidently, whereas Dan gulped.

Ellie deadpanned. “Well, at least we'll know who to vote off tonight,” she stated bluntly, making the model worry for the nerd even more.

—Confessional :Brian—

The host sipped his drink again, then commented. “The outcome is so predictable, there's no point in covering it all. Editing magic, please…”

He snapped his fingers.

—End Confessional—

___________

Yet another montage came.

Fiore opened the pouches her team had retrieved, calmly beginning to try various combinations to see which pieces fit together.

Dan desperately tried grabbing a pouch, only to knock two of them down to the grass. Even upon properly getting a hold of one at last, his sight was so blurry without his glasses, he made two blunders simultaneously — he stuck a finger in the opening, then accidentally pulled at the drawstring, which tightened sharply around said finger.

A sharp cry sounded. Alessandro winced, but Ellie smirked.

Fiore put more and more pieces together.

Dan had only managed to get a pair together. Unfortunately, he lost even that bit of progress upon accidentally sending them sliding off the table as he tried to test out another piece.

___________

Brian blew his whistle. “Time's up. Let's see what you've managed to put together…” He deadpanned at how obviously the result was. Fiore presented something that could actually be understood, whilst all Dan had were scattered pieces and pouches. In fact, he had failed to even keep most of his resources atop his desk — most of them now littered the grass and sand surrounding it.

“Do I even need to say it?” The host asked harshly. Dan hung his head, holding back tears. “Savage Raccoons, I'll see you at the elimination ceremony in two hours.”

“I don't think we'll need to discuss the vote tonight,” Ellie stated coldly. Not waiting for a reply, she began the trek back to camp.

Dan buried his face in his arms, swallowing sobs that threatened to come out. Why did everything have to go wrong? The one time he had a chance to show his value to others, no less. Would Alessandro even manage to sway Grett to vote with them tonight? Or was this it?

Alessandro's heart clenched at the sight. “Hey… Dan… don't worry… It will be okay, I promise…” he insisted, watching everyone else start to leave.

Hunter and Tess began the trip back to their campsite on their own, likely preferring not to stay around their teammates. Karol also set off by herself. Tom and Jake began following Ellie, though Jake glanced over his shoulder, noticing Connor gazing toward Alec, who told Fiore to go ahead without him.

“Connor? Are you coming?” Jake asked.

Connor shook his head. “Don't worry, I'll be at camp before the ceremony comes. Just need to do something quickly.” Once the other resumed following his husband and friend, the CEO joined the librarian, the duo heading toward another area of the woods.

Spotting this, Blake whispered to Will. “Hey, can you go ahead with the others? I kind of could use some more time alone.” He scratched the back of his head, feigning stress. “That whole scuffle with that himbo really riled me up. And if anyone asks, please cover for me. I really don't want others getting suspicious of me just because I needed some peace and quiet…”

Sighing, Will nodded. “Okay…” With that, the brickhouse reluctantly began the trek back to camp on his own.

Noticing Alessandro and Dan still there, Blake motioned for them to follow him.

—Confessional :Blake—

“While Fiore and Dan were busy with that second phase of the challenge, Karol made sure to come and complain to me about Connor and Alec again.” He crossed his arms. “Considering the two are now sneaking off like this, I'm inclined to think her worries are more grounded than others gave her credit for.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Alec used his white shirt to wipe his glasses clean, sitting down on a rock and putting them back on. Clearly, the librarian couldn't hold it in for much longer.

Connor drew closer, crossing his arms as he stopped a couple feet from him. “So, now that it's just the two of us here, can you tell me what you've gotten yourself into on the other team?” Discerning surprise behind the lenses, he spoke again. “It's clear you've gotten yourself into some mess. You're acting all shifty, reminds me of our time back in Yellow team, with the whole Villains Alliance you started.”

Unable to conceal the truth any longer, Alec covered his face in weariness. “Fine, just… don't tell anyone, okay?” Upon getting a nod, he fessed up. “Fiore and I got into an alliance with Karol and Blake. We agreed to it since we figured we'd get targeted for our actions in prior seasons, and so needed the numbers.”

The CEO didn't immediately speak up, merely gazing at him. Perhaps waiting for him to elaborate further. Due to the adrenaline the sudden outburst sent throughout Alec's body, he quickly became a bit defensive.

“I know it looks bad- or it is just bad. But why even come back here, if I'll just get wiped out in a day or two?” Alec argued.

Connor held up both hands placatingly. “It's fine. I understand you're not in the best place financially and… Fiore is apparently not doing well, if I interpreted your remarks from earlier correctly. I just… you're my friend, and I don't want you to end up…” He trailed.

“Like Riya?” Alec finished for him. “I know. Trust me, I hate being back here as much as anyone else. But, no matter how much I search, no job that pays well wants to hire the former alcoholic, who got exposed for feeling no love for his son on international television.”

Connor stepped closer. “Hey… I can offer you a position, if you're struggling. I can tell you've been trying to improve.”

Alec shook his head, turning away. “Don't feel forced to hire me just because we're friends, please…”

Setting a hand on the librarian's shoulder, the CEO grinned. “Nonsense. You're a hardworker. The way you've played before proves it. I'd be honored to have you as an employee.”

Looking back at his older friend, Alec allowed a small smile to form. “Thanks, Connor. You're a good man.”

___________

Once the two parted to head toward their respective campsites, the camera zoomed out. Soon enough, the viewer would discover Blake, Alessandro and Dan had eavesdropped on this whole interaction.

Blake, whose back had been leaning against a tree trunk, pushed himself upright with a scowl. “Guess you are right about Connor's potential to get Alec to flip,” he told the model, sounding on the verge of snapping.

Alessandro, who kept an arm wrapped around Dan to guide him — as the nerd really couldn't navigate his surroundings without his glasses — looked at Blake with intrigue. After glancing at Dan and getting a nod from him, he focused back on the surfer.

“We'll do our best to ensure tonight's vote goes whichever way you'd prefer, as long as you repay the favor if needed. What do you say?”

Blake smirked.

___________

Two hours passed, and the sky had darkened fully.

The Savage Raccoons headed toward the elimination ceremony. Dan had new glasses on, yet seemed about as miserable as before. Jake, Tom and Connor appeared moderately concerned — as most average contestants are whenever about to face their potential downfall. Ellie just forged on, arms folded and a nonchalant expression on her face.

Grett had opted to remain behind everyone else, as though waiting for something. Her decision paid off as Alessandro sided over to her side, passing her a torn, folded ballot. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“No one noticed a torn ballot the first time we attended the ceremony this season. Don't worry about the numbers or getting found out, you'll see how we're dealing with that once we get to the ceremony,” he whispered simply, then picked up his pace.

___________

Cut to the ceremony.

Flames crackled loudly within the bonfire, shining brightly behind Brian, as he observed the seven remaining Savage Raccoons, who sat on the tree stumps.

“Feeling safe?” The host taunted them.

Ellie shrugged. “It's not like there's not an obvious boot sitting with us.”

Dan tensed, glaring at her. “You keep saying I'm the one starting shit, yet here you are, throwing dirt at me! What is your problem?!”

She rolled her eyes, unfazed. “You're the one holding a grudge over getting idoled out by Gabby three years ago. Quit acting like some victim. You're not surviving tonight either way, so I'd try and keep some of your dignity intact.”

When neither Jake, Tom nor Connor spoke up in his defense — likely because there weren't close enough to him to know or care about how bothered he was — Dan narrowed his eyes. Glancing at Alessandro, he received a nod, cuing him to stand up.

“Before we vote, I've got something for you, Brian,” he announced, whipping out a certain envelope. As the rest of the team exchanged confused and worried glances, he walked up to Brian and handed the advantage over, letting the host read it. Upon seeing a smirk form on the man's face, the nerd whispered in his ear, then returned to his stump.

“Seems Dan here wants to engage in some vote stealing tonight,” Brian declared with a wink. “And has redeemed just the advantage that allows him to do so. Nice move.”

“What?” Jake let out, cupping a hand over his mouth, growing anxious.

Ellie's nonchalance faltered, but she soon arched an eyebrow. “You think stealing one vote's going to save you?”

Brian chortled. “Bold of you to automatically assume it only allows him to steal one vote,” he teased. Not giving the ginger-haired girl time to process his words, he flung both hands in the air. “Without further ado, get voting!”

___________

“I was just scaring you a bit at the last ceremony, but now I'm serious,” Ellie stated coldly, inserting her ballot into the urn. “Try not to throw a fit on your way out.”

“Again, it may not happen tonight, but you'll get yours soon enough, Ellie,” Dan swore, casting his vote.

“I vote for…” Tom paused, needing a moment to recall the name before writing it down.

“I hope you get over the whole guys alliance fiasco one day, man,” Jake said, jotting down his vote.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Connor apologized, casting his vote.

Alessandro took a deep breath. “Please, work,” he begged quietly, before placing his ballot on the urn.

Grett unfolded the torn ballot. After staring at the name written on it for a few moments, she made her decision.

___________

Brian rubbed his hands together. “If anyone has an immunity idol, now's your only chance to use it tonight!”

No one spoke up.

“Very well, here are the votes…

Dan!”

Ellie shot the nerd a smirk.

He crossed his arms with a frown.

“Dan!”

His breathing quickened.

“Goodbye,” Ellie muttered.

“Dan!”

He struggled to hold back tears.

Noticing this, Alessandro wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Shut up,” he spat at the ginger, shocking her.

“Connor!”

Connor arched a puzzled eyebrow, not expecting anyone to target him tonight. Tom, Jake and Ellie shared the confusion.

“Connor!”

Connor blinked in surprise again. “Um… what?”

“Connor!

That's three votes Dan and three votes Connor! One vote left!”

Connor looked concerned. However, his apprehension paled in comparison to that of Dan, who sweated profusely, eyes watery and ready to leak.

“3rd person voted out of Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…

Connor!”

The host revealed the final vote. Jake, Tom, Ellie and Connor were so taken aback by the boot, they didn't even notice how that last ballot was torn.

Alessandro let out a sigh of relief, then went to comfort Dan. “Don't worry, you're safe now-” He fell silent, as the nerd flopped forward from pure stress, breathing heavily.

Meanwhile, the final result finally dawned upon the others. “Connor, no!” Jake cried out.

Connor merely stood up with a resigned smile. He nudged Jake playfully in the shoulder. “Hey now, don't despair. Guess that vote stealing advantage was just a bit more powerful than Ellie thought, but that's fine. Just… keep on going, alright?”

The others nodded.

With that, the CEO departed for the bus-stop.

—Confessional :Dan—

He suppressed tears. “Second time at the bottom two… and it was even closer this time.” He clenched a fist, resentment building further.

—Confessional :Grett—

She came clean. “I couldn't resist the opportunity to make a move without making others suspicious.” She smirked. “Now, I'll have quite a few extra options moving forward.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Good thing Grett was successfully convinced to flip tonight.” He clutched his chest. “I… don't know how I'd take losing Dan this early…”

Shaking his head, he shifted subjects.

“Hopefully, Blake will keep his word…”

—End Confessional—

Chapter Text

Brian stood in front of the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw, recapping last episode.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle, we returned to the beach. However, this time? We had our 14 campers dig for ‘treasure’.” He laughed, as footage from the last challenge played. “Some got very rough.” Cut to Tom and Blake's scuffle, as well as Dan getting his glasses broken.

“Physical action wasn't all we saw, however.”

Cut to scenes of Alessandro and Blake interacting in the woods. Then, of them and Dan spying on Connor and Alec, as the duo conversed privately.

The flashback moments ended with the elimination ceremony.

“Deals were made. In the end, Connor was the first victim caught in the crossfire, becoming our 3rd boot.”

We return to Brian, who raised both arms.

“Thirteen remain! Whose run will come to an end tonight?”

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“Next time you interact with anyone on the opposing team, you'll be on the chopping block! Got it?!” Karol threatened, standing over Alec, who sat on one of the logs flanking the firepit.

Shutting his novel, the librarian merely tilted his head up to arch an eyebrow at her. “What is triggering you right now, may I ask?” He sounded weary. Understandably so. There was not enough patience in the universe to cope with this nonsense.

Karol stomped closer. “You know very well! You thought we'd just forget how long you and Connor chatted last challenge?” She hissed. “Not on my watch.”

Beside the librarian, Fiore rolled her eyes, cutting in with a deadpan countenance. “Goodness gracious, old hag! You're still on with that, even after a whole day? They were literally digging throughout their whole ‘exchange’, I doubt they'd have the focus to get too elaborate.” She pointed up at the middle-aged lady, sneering. “At most, they may have been talking about how much of a horrid bitch you are. And that's not really a secret now, is it?”

Karol gasped, offended to the extreme. Gritting her teeth, she balled a fist at the ten year-old. “How dare you speak to me like that, you damn brat?!”

Around that time, Hunter exited his and Tess’ tent, the latter right behind him. Taking in the current situation for just a few seconds, he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “I'm going out for a walk,” he told the others bluntly, stalking off, his friend tailing him.

Not giving a crap about where pasty-guy and his platonic, emo girlfriend were headed, Karol just continued going off on Alec and Fiore.

Lounging on the other log, Will and Blake observed the spectacle.

The former winced, eyes flitting to the surfer. “Um… why is she still so angry?” He asked him in a whisper, afraid she'd overhear.

Blake shrugged, taking another bite off an apple.

—Confessional :Blake—

He snickered a little. “Fine, fine. I may have told Karol I ‘accidentally,” he mimed air-quotes, then proceeded, “stumbled upon Alec and Connor discussing something in the woods post-challenge.” He crossed his arms proudly. “Told her to ‘please’ not let anyone find out I supplied her this information. And hey, despite how irate she's getting, she's complied so far.”

—Confessional :Hunter—

He banged a trunk with his fist.

“I had to get away from Karol before I lost it completely,” he confessed. He clenched his hand even further. “It's just… it's so obvious that witch got Ally booted. Seeing her still here, and knowing Tess and I are at her mercy right now, pisses me off to no end.”

—End Confessional—

As they quickly trod deeper into the woods, Tess spoke up, her tone filled with concern.

“Hunter, you… haven't been acting like yourself since Ally's boot…” She pointed out. “At first, you were inconsolable. But now, you're getting…” She trailed off, not wanting to risk hurting Hunter's already pained heart.

Hunter stopped before a tree, leaning forth and holding onto its trunk as he reflected briefly. “I'm…” He contemplated what to say. “I won't lie and claim I'm fine. I'm not,” he admitted. “But I don't want to mellow out. I want to… remain alert. And I feel as though I'll just grow too tired to continue if I let go of this anger. And I want us both to get far, for Ally's sake. That makes sense, right?”

Tess set a hand against her chest, gazing at him sympathetically. She still wasn't too sure about his wellbeing. However, the fact he at least acknowledged the truth, rather than attempting to deceive her, reassured her to a degree.

“You know she wouldn't want you to stress yourself out, right?”

Turning around, Hunter approached Tess, holding her hands.

“I know… but I don't want to allow the one responsible to succeed in this game.”

Tess nodded, understanding his stance.

“If this is really what you want, I… will support you, as long as you promise not to let it harm you.”

He gently pulled her closer.

“I can't promise you that fully,” he admitted. “But I swear I won't disregard your opinion.”

Despite hanging her head, Tess accepted that.

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

“I… didn't think Connor would be gone so soon,” Jake sighed, sitting on one of the logs, eyes musing on the extinguished firepit. “I'm sure he was looking forward to coming back here without being burdened by the whole Riya drama. Even if he wasn't looking to win, it sucks that he got eliminated so soon…”

Seated beside him, Tom regarded his husband compassionately. “I know it's sad, but it's like Connor told us before he left — we must carry on.” He wrapped a comforting arm around his beloved. “And it's not just him who would want us to push forward. Miriam's definitely watching the show, you know?”

The other ruminated on this. “Yeah, no way she isn't watching us play right now,” he acknowledged.

“Do you think she would want you to continue being despondent?”

“She… she wouldn't.” He raised his head to look at his soulmate. He chuckled a bit. “If she saw me mope like this, she'd likely give me a shake, then tell me to chin up.”

Tom nodded, giving a broad, encouraging grin. “Exactly.” He stood up, proffering his lover a hand. “So, how about we don't give her reason to want to do that?”

Moments later, Jake took said hand, letting his husband lift him to his feet.

From their tent, Grett observed, unnoticed — as Ellie had departed earlier upon seeing Alessandro head off for a stroll through the woods. She kept her ears alert for any signs of the duo discussing the technical aspects of last night's vote — or rather, for any possible suspicions the two could have. Once nothing of the sort came up, she glided away from the opening, retreating into cover.

—Confessional :Grett—

She expelled air in relief. “It seems the plan worked. The others are all convinced the advantage Dan played let him steal multiple votes. Well, Ellie thinks it let him steal two. Point is, no one is suspecting me.”

She stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“I'm not sure why Dan and Alessandro chose to target Connor specifically. But I don't mind that they did. Even if Tom and Jake are a couple, Connor does have ties to Alec. And Fiore would likely go along with it, too. So, those three might have allied if we let them all make it to merge.”

She shrugged it off.

“Regardless, I'm now in a much better spot on the team. There are many options, but continuing to go under the radar seems like a sound strategy for now. I'll just go with the flow for the moment, and decide what to do once I must.”

—Confessional :Ellie—

“It's rather clear that Alessandro voted off Connor with Dan. That much is certain.”

She crossed her arms.

“I managed to get a glimpse into what Dan was up to inside his tent, as he didn't even bother zipping it shut after Alessandro left. To one's surprise, the guy is still sulking.” She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Regardless, Dan not accompanying Alessandro gives me the chance to approach the latter for a little chat.”

—End Confessional—

Cut to a close-up of an unharvested apple. Nothing changed for a few seconds, before a couple grunts were heard, accompanied by the light thuds of hands and feet impacting wood. The noises grew slightly louder, closer. Eventually, the bough itself began shaking.

Finally, a smooth, tanned hand came into frame, gripping the fruit. The shot shifted to show Alessandro, as he plucked it from the branch.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I admit, scaling a tree just to collect a single apple may have been a little extra. But hey, still an opportunity to show off some skills,” he giggled, winking at the camera. “I probably should have gotten someone to come along with a basket…”

His pleasant mood soon petered out, as he hung his head.

“But I've only been feeling comfortable working with Dan here,” he confessed. “And he… well, he didn't want to come today. He's clearly feeling rather down.” He ran a hand through his silky hair with a sigh. “I don't blame him. Tom and Jake seem even more dismissive of him than they already were in season 1. And Ellie?” He inhaled and exhaled slowly, before resuming. “She just keeps making things worse for him, and the others seem to just go along with it.”

—End Confessional—

After taking a couple moments to collect himself and adjust his position, the model slid down the tree, careful not to allow the bark to scrape at his skin. Once a mere foot or two from the ground, he let go. He landed steadily on his feet, then dusted his jeans and shirt.

“Can we talk?” A familiar, raspy voice came.

Looking forward, Alessandro saw Ellie had emerged from the vegetation. Her arms were folded against her chest, a severe expression plastered on. The model had to repress a frown, not pleased to see her. This was the girl constantly picking on the only person he could consider a friend here, after all.

For the sake of preventing conflict, however, he swallowed his animosity. Putting on a neutral tone, he spoke. “What about? Sorry if pointing this out comes off as rude, but we've barely interacted before. In fact, I'm quite sure this might be the first time you've approached me for conversation.”

Ellie emitted a tsk, not beating around the bush. “I'll get straight to the point. You voted with Dan, didn't you?”

Alessandro shrugged. He saw zero reason to conceal his involvement. Ellie clearly had her mind set, and wouldn't fall for any lies. Besides, he didn't feel like pretending to side with her. Admittedly, it was odd. He had secretly formed an alliance with Blake yesterday, after alliance. However, something about the mere thought of supporting the person standing before him disgusted him.

“I fail to see what part of me voting alongside him concerns you,” he answered, struggling just a smidge more to curb his annoyance with her.

Ellie squinted at him, unamused herself. “You know, I've noticed you hanging out with him most of the time, ever since we've got here basically. Considering you're one of only two new contestants this season, one would think you'd try connecting more to the rest of the team.”

Not liking the passive-aggression suffusing that statement, the model frowned back at her. “Excuse me, but that's quite the loaded statement you just made out of nowhere.” He set both hands against his sides. “I've gravitated toward him, sure. But it's not like the rest of you have made much of an effort to include either of us. In fact, when it comes to Dan, I'd say you've been doing the exact opposite.”

Ellie took a step forward, pointing at him. “What are you implying?” She questioned with a slight hiss.

The model humphed. “If you want to randomly assign some hidden meaning to my words, be my guest. Frankly, I'm not too concerned,” he retorted bluntly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go wash my apple in the river, then return to camp.” With that, he walked off.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Ellie has some nerve, for real,” he scoffed. “Is it self-absorption, extreme manipulation or just genuine delusion? I'm not in the mood to try and figure it out. All I know is that she should watch herself.”

—Confessional :Ellie—

“Great,” she let out sarcastically. “Now there are two people on the team painting me as that bitch. Exactly what I was looking for to spice up my time here,” she snarked.

—End Confessional—

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

“So, when will you actually flip the page? In an hour?” Fiore quipped, exiting the tent after fetching an apple once more. She sat on the log opposite the one Alec lounged on.

Following half an hour of ranting, Karol had finally worn her vocal cords, storming off with a canteen. And yet, it was clear something still bothered the librarian.

“I just…” He trailed off, not even knowing how to conclude that sentence.

—Confessional :Alec—

“I can't lie. I've been thinking about what Connor told me more and more lately. I'm grateful that he's willing to offer me such a great job opportunity, I am. But… why does thinking about it make me feel bad about my current gameplay?”

He shook his head, tipping up his glasses.

“I suppose I may just have to find a way to talk to Connor again without Karol noticing.”

—End Confessional—

At this lack of answer, Fiore began tapping her foot impatiently. She wasn't too keen on playing therapist. She was still just ten, for goodness’ sake. “Look, Alec. We've been through a lot in both our previous seasons on this show. We went through shit together, made mistakes and might have grown. And blah, blah, blah.” She quit beating around the bush.

“But unfortunately, all of that has not resulted in me becoming a therapist. Nor has my patience grown too much. So, I'll get straight to the point here.

What is up with you now?”

Alec averted his gaze sharply. “Fiore, it's nothing.”

Fiore rolled her eyes with a scoff. Before she could try prying further, the loudspeakers came to life with a loud burst. She noticed the librarian almost falling off the log, inordinately startled — a clear indication he had been rather engrossed in his own thoughts, a clear sign it was far from nothing.

But still, she didn't get the chance to question him.

“Attention, campers! You have fifteen minutes to report to the clearing at the center of Camp Tipiskaw,” Brian apprised.

___________

Once the allotted time had elapsed, the Fierce Gophers emerged into the clearing. Despite not being the ones to have lost their second member, a mere glance was enough to pick up on their glaring division.

Hunter and Tess stuck together, keeping some distance from the rest of the team. The former had a closed off countenance, whilst the latter seemed more worried. Alec and Fiore were another pair — the former seeming to be somewhat immersed in introspection, whilst the latter just arched an eyebrow his way.

Blake kept a chill expression on. Will traveled by his side, occasionally sneaking a glance toward Hunter and Tess — a glint of guilt fleeting by his orbs whenever he did so.

Finally, Karol strode ahead of them all. Alongside her usual entitlement, she exudes way more arrogance than usual.

Noticing this, Alec narrowed his gaze with suspicion.

—Confessional :Alec—

“She's acting way more smug than usual. She's been rather demanding this whole time. But now? She's behaving as though she believes herself to be our leader.” He crossed his arms, face scrunching up with distrust. “Almost as though… she is planning something…”

—Confessional :Blake—

The surfer snickered. “Beyond just giving Karol my ‘account’ of what I ‘accidentally’ caught Alec and Connor doing, I may have expressed my ‘fear’ that Alec is just using us both as meatshields for him to ditch at the merge.”

Realizing something, he added quickly, “Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention to you guys that I told her the alliance was Alec's idea. My bad.”

Getting back on track, he continued. “Regardless, I advised her to take charge of the team. “ He stifled laughter. “And I may have encouraged her to seize any opportunity she may get to intimidate and mess with him. Because of how pissed she's already gotten with Alec, she didn't even think of how unnecessary that sounds.”

He checked his nails.

“Sure, it may sound overkill to influence her into wrecking her own social game this much. But I'm really just looking to make sure I get through the pre-merge.” He stretched a little. “I'm certain I'll be able to dominate once that hits. Besides, once the teams dissolve I'll already have Alessandro and Dan to ally with. And since I've already been able to get Will on my side by myself, keeping him on my side with the help of those two will be a piece of cake.”

He smirked.

—End Confessional—

The host greeted them with a grin. One that widened as rustling came from the other end of the clearing. Turning their heads in that direction, no reaction proved uninteresting amongst the Fierce Gophers.

A sinister grin formed across Karol's face, smugness and malice shining in her eyes.

Hunter, Tess and Will all blinked in bewilderment. Despite not being the most strategic, even they couldn't quite believe who had ultimately been ousted last night.

Lastly, Alec backed away a step on instinct, gaping in shock and slight horror. “How… how did this happen?” He mumbled too quietly for the others to hear. He couldn't believe it. The time he was finally going to reach out himself…

“Behold, the new Savage Raccoons!” Brian proclaimed gleefully, savoring the librarian's response. “As Connor became the 3rd person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Jake leaned into Tom's shoulder for comfort at the reminder. Grett crossed her arms neutrally…

And Ellie shot Alessandro and especially Dan a look. “I wonder who's behind it,” she hissed.

Dan clenched his fists, yet felt so drained… Every time he attempted to prove himself, something sprung up to leave him humiliated. He… didn't even have the energy to clap back right now, much to a certain model's concern.

Wrapping an arm around the nerd he had quickly grown to consider his friend, Alessandro glowered at Ellie. “I told you this last night, and I'll repeat it now. Shut up.”

Karol shot Alec a derisive smirk. “That's what happens when you think you're above the rules,” she mocked. The librarian balled his fists, staring back, seething. Hunter took notice of this, but opted not to comment for the moment.

Clapping in order to draw everyone's attention back to himself, the host resumed his speech.

“We will be bringing back another past challenge today. Though, this one may be a little fresher in your minds. Some of you may have participated in this once before. However, for a few of you, this will be your third time engaging in a war where…”

Brian gestured toward a heap of paintball guns, satchels and ink-filled capsules.

“All is fair in love and paintball!” He declared.

Fiore rolled her eyes, deadpanning. “Are you seriously recycling a challenge that already got reused before?” Her disappointment seemed immeasurable.

The host chuckled. “Aw, come on. It's not like it'll be too boring for you, considering you never got to play it a second time before, given you didn't even get to the merge in All-Stars.” He wagged a finger, giving her some advice. “Besides, if I were, I'd be more concerned about not getting kicked out in the pre-merge for the second consecutive time.”

She snarled, annoyed.

“Anyway, you'll have five minutes to gather supplies, then scatter. Though, personally, I'd recommend pairing up with one of your fellow teammates. Once time's up, the game will start. You'll have up to half an hour to splatter the opposing team. Whichever team loses all its members is toast. If the challenge ends with members still remaining on either team, I'll think of something else to quickly decide the winner. Now…”

He raised an arm.

“On your marks…

Go!!!”

By the time he flung his arm back down, everyone was already stampeding toward the pile. Hunter and Blake got there first, beginning to equip themselves.

Tucking a paintball gun under his arm, the surfer grabbed a satchel and started stuffing it with capsules. Not like there wouldn't be enough for everyone, anyway. Thus, he figured he may as well stock up on ammunition. He got about three-quarters of it filled, then halted. He caught a certain himbo rushing toward him from the corner of his peripheral vision.

With an eye-roll, Blake took a swift step back. The next moment, Tom crashed into the mound of supplies — his attempted ambush on his husband's ex backfiring spectacularly.

“Good riddance,” Blake scoffed. He spotted Will filling another satchel, seeming too timid to reach for a weapon while everyone else was running in to take one for themselves. Exhaling deeply, he plucked another paintball gun from the heap. Approaching the brickhouse, he tossed it into his arms. “Let's head out together.”

Will nodded, thankful his own reluctance to take initiative wouldn't force him to endure this pandemonium for even longer. And so, they bolted into the woods together.

Taking a page out of this, Hunter fetched a second paintball gun for Tess. “Let's go, Tess!” With that, they darted in another direction, also evanescing into the sea of trees.

“Are you okay?” Jake quizzed with care, helping his husband back up. Tom nodded sheepishly, before fetching weapons for both of them. The two soon disappeared into the woods as well. Ellie and Grett exchanged glances, shrugged, then went off together after arming themselves.

Dan reached for a paintball gun, only for Karol to knock him down with an elbow to the stomach. “Loser!” She mocked, running into the woods. Meanwhile, Alec and Fiore quickly nabbed some supplies and set off.

The nerd, still not feeling too good after last night, stayed down for a few seconds. He shivered, on the verge of crying, but a pair of toned, tanned arms swiftly pulled him back on his feet.

“Are you alright?” Alessandro inquired. The model could tell the guy hadn't gotten much better since that morning. He was growing more concerned by the minute, honestly.

“I'm not even sure why I'm here anymore…” Dan confessed, tearing up. “No matter how hard I try, I'm still a failure. Is there even a point to trying anymore?”

Alessandro gripped his shoulders, shaking him. “Come on, don't think that. You're not a failure,” he assured. “A failure wouldn't have shown the desire you've shown to succeed.”

Brian cleared his throat. “I'd hate to interrupt the emotional exchange, but I recommend you two get going. You have less than three minutes before shots start getting fired. Being in this clearing will be a death sentence from that point forward.”

Sighing, the model, who had already gotten himself equipped, found another paintball gun. Filling another satchel with supplies, he handed Dan both of these, then pulled him along while racing into the woods.

___________

Five minutes later, the host's voice blared through the loudspeakers. “Five minutes are up. You are now free to start hunting… or be hunted…” He cackled for the sake of spectacle, before the devices fell quiet once more.

___________

Tom and Jake traversed the woods, too focused on each other to pay their actual task much attention.

“Can you believe we're doing a paintball challenge again?” Tom asked, ducking his head to avoid a low branch. Raising it back up, he winked at his husband, only to collide with a trunk because he didn't watch where he headed.

Jake giggled slightly, as his beloved goofily pushed himself away from the bark. Despite Connor's recent departure still weighing on the back of his mind, Tom's support helped alleviate his sorrow enough to where it was no longer affecting him constantly. “Well, I suppose we may still have more to learn. We didn't win either time, after all.”

After rubbing his slightly aching face, Tom gave a thumbs-up. “You know what they say~” he responded in a sing-song voice. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “Third time's the charm~” He winked, setting the gun over his shoulder coolly. “I'm sure will win this time-”

Splat!

Tom tumbled forth with a yelp. With him lying on the floor, Jake could paint now splattered over the back of the himbo's head.

He gasped with dilated eyes. “Tom!” He swiveled around, ready to confront whoever did this-

Splat!

A cry escaped Jake's lips. He flopped backward, paint now smearing his face. It stung his eyes, which watered, rendering it difficult to make out their ambushers. However, he'd recognize that Hawaiian shirt worn by a member of the pair — likely the one responsible for both shots — anywhere.

“Got them, let's go,” Blake told his partner with a smirk, both him and Will slinking back into the cover provided by surrounding vegetation.

Jake heaved a long sigh. “Damn it. Lost to him again…” He lamented.

Tom got up, setting a hand on his husband's shoulder. “Don't worry, we'll teach that bastard another lesson later,” he reassured, getting him to smile appreciatively.

___________

Cut to Ellie and Grett's journey amidst the flora.

“So, how are you doing right now?” Grett asked her teammate, finding their walk rather uneventful for now. “You acted quite… harsh last night, didn't you?” Admittedly, she herself may not have had much room to talk. However, even though being spiteful wasn't necessarily foreign to Ellie, she usually did it out of a need to win. Her vendetta against Dan felt… different.

Ellie heaved a sigh. “Fine. I'll admit, I technically didn't need to rub it in so much. It's just… Dan's clearly never struggled financially or anything, yet constantly whines and acts as though he's some poor, innocent victim!” She complained.

Grett arched an eyebrow. “Isn't that sort of how you felt about Jake from episode 11 of Season 1, up until you both reconciled a few months back?” She pointed out. “Don't you think maybe you and Dan could settle your differences, too?”

“That's not exactly the same case, though,” Ellie responded. “Jake has never struggled with money, sure. But he's faced other actual issues — a garbage family, ex-boyfriend, amongst other traumas. I ultimately felt bad because I disregarded his very real troubles.”

“And you don't feel bad regarding Dan because…?”

Ellie huffed. “Because, from what little can be said about his life, he's never had any personal struggles either. He's got an average family, and has faced zero traumatic experiences. Dan has no right to complain. And I'm not buying whatever he claims about his online presence. No one would care about him enough to cyber-bully him.”

Grett flinched.

—Confessional :Grett—

She sighed. “I… I think Ellie may be too immersed in her dislike toward Dan at this point.” She averted her gaze. Though she didn't voice it, her own past troubles online made her somewhat uncomfortable with someone dismissing the topic of online harassment like this.

—End Confessional—

Meanwhile, Alessandro and Dan stuck together. The former gazed at his partner, noting his still listless mannerisms.

“Hey… come on, Dan,” the model urged. “Whatever Ellie says about you, she's full of shit, alright? Let's stick it to her by winning this!”

Dan sighed. He barely had the will to answer. What was the point, anyway? For him to blunder and embarrass himself even more? Part of him started wanting to just… give in. Quit trying, and just hope falling into obscurity would eventually put an end to all negative attention. Perhaps being forgotten was the best he could…

Their ears picked up on some rustling. Except… it didn't seem to be heading toward them. Alessandro and Dan exchanged a look. The former soon discerned two figures following another pair.

“They must be pursuing them… But… who is from our team and who is from the opposing one?” Alessandro whispered.

The nerd almost refrained from answering, his self-esteem not too great right now. He feared costing his team the challenge yet again. But looking at the model that had befriended a loser like him, despite everything, he didn't want to let him down. Eventually, he mustered up the courage to reply. “I… I think we should trail those four. Then, we can figure it out and, if needed, carry out an ambush.”

Alessandro beamed, patting his shoulder. “Great idea. Let's go.”

—Confessional :Alessandro —

“I really hope we win this challenge. Not just to remain safe, but to perhaps show Dan he's no failure.”

—End Confessional—

Ellie and Grett chatted still.

“I don't get how Dan even has that Alessandro guy on his side,” Ellie scoffed. “I talked to him this morning, and he accused me and the rest of the team of excluding him and Dan.”

Grett lifted an eyebrow. “I mean, that's kind of what has been going on,” she pointed out. “Especially with you trying to vote Dan off both times we've gone to a ceremony this season so far.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Well, maybe I wouldn't have done it if Dan learned to get over getting voted off three years ago-”

Splat

She nearly fell down, as paint splattered across her ginger hair. Grett gasped, then lunged behind a bush to avoid a barrage of shots.

“Sorry, Ellie,” Tess said apologetically, as she and Hunter — who had fired all shots exchanged here so far — emerged from behind a tree. “Hunter, can I stay with her for a second while you look for Grett-?”

Splat

Tess got knocked back into a bush, ink now coating her face. Hunter swiveled around right on time to catch Grett's head peeking out from the undergrowth. He sidestepped, then rolled, avoiding a wave of paintballs shot his way. But suddenly, Grett pressed trigger again, yet only heard a click.

“Damn it!” She hissed, rushing to reload.

Splat

She cried out in shock and frustration, plopping back onto the grass, her face now painted with ink.

“That's what you get!” Hunter proclaimed. Seeing Tess sitting up, he came to help her get on her feet.

Splat

He nearly flopped down onto her, the back of shit now stained. Steadying himself, he whipped around in surprise and slight irritation. “Who did that?”

“See, Dan? Your idea to catch those two off-guard worked!” They all heard a certain model congratulate his partner. However, the four now disqualified contestants didn't get a chance to react, as the duo heard a commotion from farther away. “Let's go check that out!” And the two ran off.

___________

Another duo continued prowling the woods.

“So… h-how much longer do you think it will take for the teams to be disbanded?” Will asked, attempting to stay calm so as not to mistake every brush of a leaf against him for an attack. Normally, he would have somewhat gotten over this. But the context of this challenge left him on edge.

Blake hummed, more focused on looking out for any possible threats. Still, he eventually answered. “Who knows? Maybe episode seven? Anyway, it doesn't matter when it happens. What matters is that the two of us get there.”

Will nodded. “About that… sorry if I sound intrusive, but when you said you got Alec, Fiore and Karol to vote with you…” He trailed off, which allowed the surfer to ponder his response.

“Oh… I admit, I may have been twisting the truth a bit to seem better,” Blake lied with a chill laugh. When the brickhouse gave him a curious look, he elaborated. “Well, Alec and Fiore approached me first. I couldn't exactly refuse their offer, due to, as they also pointed out, my history with Jake basically guaranteeing my elimination in the merge. And as I told you yesterday, Alec had me get you on our side, as well as recruit Karol.”

Before the other could respond, the two heard arguing from nearby. Exchanging looks, the surfer soon sprinted toward the source, followed by the gentle giant.

—Confessional :Will—

He shifted in his stump with discomfort. “I can't help but fear Alec and Fiore might be using Blake as a meatshield.” He sighed. “But I don't know how to tell him that right now. I'll… I'll just go along with it, and if I notice those two trying to target him, I'll say… try to do something.” He looked very unsure of his own ability to interfere.

—Confessional :Blake—

He crossed his arms sternly.

“Sure, I may want to start taking credit. I mean, I've been making moves ever since the start. And I certainly won't hesitate to show off once merge hits and I have control over this game…

But with Alec probably not happy about the Connor boot, I figured I should inject the narrative that he was the one responsible for this alliance. Just in case…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Splat Splat Splat

“What the hell, you old hag?!” Fiore snapped, as Alec tripped on a rock and tumbled backward — his face somewhat bruised from the short, yet merciless bombardment of paintballs it received. “You're supposed to shoot at the opposing team, not your own! Did you go too senile to remember that?”

Karol had just unloaded her ammunition on her own teammate. Of course, it wasn't intentional. She had been patrolling the area, when Alec — followed by Fiore — approached her from behind, intent on holding a discussion. At the noise of footsteps, instinct had taken over and… well, one could see what came of it.

Despite not intending to open fire on the librarian, however, Karol wasn't sorry either. In fact, she was pissed at the duo. “Oh, shut it, you brat!” She barked. “Not my fault you two crept up behind me like perverts!”

“Are you seriously calling a ten-year-old girl a pervert?” Fiore deadpanned at the middle-aged woman. For someone so easily triggered, she sure was making quite the offensive statements. “Besides, there's this thing called caution and not being reckless. But I guess you lack it.”

Reloading, Karol snarled. “Why the hell did you two even approach me?”

Upon regaining his bearings, Alec staggered back up, groaning. Nevertheless, he soon managed to compose himself enough to narrow his eyes at her. “Because something tells me you had something to do with Connor's elimination last night. There was no reason for him to even be targeted over 75% of that other team at least. And you're the only one who'd be petty enough to make unnecessary deals just to get him out,” he accused. He flung both arms in the air, suddenly getting uncharacteristically desperate. “Why did you even do it?! You had nothing to gain from it!”

Karol scoffed. She didn't know what the hell the librarian was yapping on about. However, recalling a certain surfer's tip, she decided not to refute this claim. She would assert herself, and the bastard would just have to deal with it. With that in mind, she set a hand against her side, keeping a tight grip on her gun with the other, putting on a dominant posture.

“So what if I did?” She challenged. “Serves you right for not listening when you were warned. I'm no doormat. Those who defy get mown down. So, stay in line, sucker!”

At that, Alec's eye twitched. His temper… for once… got the better of him.

Before Karol or Fiore could react, he suddenly snatched his weapon off the grass and took aim.

Splat

Karol cried out in bewilderment, feeling paint now sticking to her face. It took her a couple seconds to realize what transpired. That… hypocritical former librarian… shot her. On purpose. Once that set in, her rage exploded.

Eyes snapping open and enduring the sting, she rushed forth. She didn't shoot this time. She raised her paintball gun up, getting him to focus on it. But then, balled her other hand into a tight fist and clocked him in the face with it.

Alec fell down with a pained cry, as Fiore gasped in shock.

Karol breathed heavily. “You're a dead man"

Fiore whacked her across the face with her paintball gun — given she didn't exactly have the height to reach her face with sufficient strength otherwise. “You wrinkled bitch!” She spat at the middled-aged lady, who flipped down onto the turf, landing on her ass.

Splat

Karol retaliated with a paintball to the young girl's face.

Just then, Blake and Will emerged from the surrounding vegetation, beholding the catastrophe that had just taken place. Both gaped, their eyes bulging with bewilderment.

Several seconds later, Blake snapped out of his shock. And fury deluged him. He clenched his hands so tight, he'd have drawn blood were he not holding onto his paintball gun currently.

He went off.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THREE-?!”

Splat Splat

A paintball hit both his and Will's backs while they were distracted.

Brian rode a motorcycle into the scene, holding a megaphone. “And just like that, in the most unorthodox way imaginable, the Savage Raccoons win!”

The surfer froze. His arms fell slack against his sides, his weapon thudding onto the grass beside his feet. His mouth fell open. Utter shock filled him. This… this had been a total disaster.

All other contestants, alerted by the commotion and announcement, soon appeared. Meanwhile, Karol hurled her paintball gun at a trunk and stormed off with an angry yell.

“Suck it, Blake!” Tom mocked, drawing a giggle from his husband.

Blake crossed his arms with a growl. Stepping away from Will when the brickhouse tried placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he looked around. “Who even got us both?”

“That would be us,” a certain model's voice sounded from the vegetation. Recognizing it, the surfer's ire faltered and he turned away with a huff, as Will continued gazing at him with concern.

—Confessional :Will—

“Blake must be really stressed right now…”

—Confessional :Blake—

He inhaled deeply. “It's just one round. Just one round. No need to blow up and risk straining the alliance before we are even able to properly work together.”

—End Confessional—

Alessandro and Dan emerged from the floral sea, proud and amazed, respectively.

“We… no, you…” the nerd began.

Before he could continue, the model embraced him tightly.

“Not just me. We did it. The two of us,” Alessandro asserted upon pulling away. “Had you either not been there with me or missed, one of those two could have been able to evade the ambush and fire back. You were just as integral to our victory as I was.”

Touched, Dan smiled. “Thanks, Alessandro. You're… a true friend.”

Suddenly, Ellie cleared her throat to interrupt their moment. “You two wouldn't have survived without the others constantly getting distracted.” The duo stared at her. “And Dan just managed to get one person, he didn't do that much.”

Alessandro narrowed his gaze at her, but Dan gripped his shoulder, clearly asking him to let him answer instead.

“Oh, you're right, Ellie,” Dan replied sarcastically. “There are so many things I didn't do today. And you know what one of them is? Ask for your opinion. I'd advise you to go wash your hair, but I think the hair matted with grass and sticks, as well as splattered with paint, you've got now is actually an improvement.”

Ellie took a step back in shock, as Grett had to stifle a giggle. Jake and Tom exchanged surprised glances, while Alessandro patted the nerd's shoulder with pride.

“As a model, I can vouch for that statement,” the model added.

Ellie snapped out of her shock-induced paralysis, gritting her teeth but saying nothing for now.

The host snickered, before speaking once more. “Getting tension this good is like finding a needle in a haystack. So, I'm milking it for all it's worth,” he announced. Turning to an intern, he continued. “You! Go fetch Karol! We're pulling the same little twist we did after the first challenge of the season! Fierce Gophers, you're not getting an hour or two to discuss who to eliminate. Come with me, we're exploiting the drama for all it's worth!”

Gasps rang out amongst the Fierce Gophers. However, Alec merely crossed his arms with a determined stance. He exchanged a look with Fiore. She seemed to understand his intent. Despite seeming less certain, she soon nodded.

—Confessional :Ellie—

“That model has some nerve,” she grumbled. “I had to work my ass off, both on and off this show, just to get my fashion brand started! Meanwhile, he was just born with the genes to be a model! I bet he's never had to put any effort into anything!”

—Confessional :Dan—

“Standing up to Ellie again, especially with a win to back me up, felt great,” he admitted with a broad grin. “Alessandro's right. A failure wouldn't try as much as I have. Though, it's clear Ellie won't ever cease treating me the way she does…”

His brief joyful demeanor dissipated. However, instead of sliding back down into sorrow, he crossed his arms, shooting the camera a look filled with new resolve.

“But I'm not letting her crap make me feel as awful as I did between the last challenge and the end of this one. Mark my words.”

Although his tone held new conviction, it was clear his grudge against Ellie had only strengthened, whether rightfully so or not.

—Confessional :Blake—

He facepalmed, growling. “Today couldn't have gone worse. Not only did the team turn against itself today, but so did the alliance.”

He crossed his arms sternly, yet there was slight apprehension in the way his gaze drifted to the side as he spoke.

“While we were heading to the elimination ceremony, I noticed Alec whispering to Hunter and Tess. All while glaring at Karol, who also hissed at me and Will to vote Alec.” He sighed. “I think I overdid-” He cut himself off, shaking his head before correcting himself. “I think Karol went too far in following my advice. Will still seems guilty about going against Hunter and Tess, and at this point, I don't think targeting one of the two is worth it anymore.”

—Confessional :Will—

He trembled. “Things are more tense at camp than ever,” he whimpered. Taking a shaky breath, he attempted to look on the bright side. “But I guess I won't have to feel even worse now, apparently. I'm a bit… nervous about following Blake's plan for tonight — I don't quite get it. But… it will prevent me from feeling even worse

—End Confessional—

___________

Cut to the elimination ceremony, with all remaining members of the Fierce Gophers already seated. Standing with the crackling flames of the firepit raging on behind him, Brian grinned smugly.

His luck today had been immaculate. It was rather ironic, too. Getting all the equipment for today's challenge had taken longer than expected — resulting in it commencing an hour or so later than planned. But now? This mishap actually worked in his favor, as he now beheld an atmosphere brimming with fresh off the oven, delicious tension, while also maintaining that added touch of hosting the ceremony at night still.

“Well, well, well,” Brian commenced teasingly. “Look how good of an idea it was not to give you guys any time to recover post-challenge.” Everyone was too preoccupied with personal matters relating to their so-called fellow teammates to respond. Seeing he wasn't getting any answers, the host shrugged, unfazed. “I guess you all just want to get it over with. Fair enough. Get voting.”

___________

Alec wrote down his vote on the parchment without a word, folding and inserting it into the urn with a stern glare.

“Go fuck yourself, you book-addicted absent father,” Karol spat, casting her vote.

Fiore sighed as she jotted down the name. “I really hope going along with this doesn't wreck both our games,” she muttered.

Hunter scrawled a name onto the parchment without hesitation, crossing his arms with a glare.

Tess cast her vote with a concerned gaze.

Will timidly jotted down a name, still puzzled about it.

Blake rolled his eyes in annoyance, writing down a name. “This is such a mess. Better to stay out of it.”

___________

Brian rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Once the votes are read, the decision is final. Whoever gets the most must leave Camp Tipiskaw and never return. If you have an idol and want to play it tonight, this is your only chance.”

No one stood up. The host smirked, proceeding.

“First vote… Blake…”

Although everyone was immersed in their squabbles, the surfer still noticed a few raised eyebrows. He suppressed a sigh of relief. Admittedly, his little idea could very well backfire under the wrong circumstances. All the recent developments, plus being denied the usual time to prepare for this, had made him unable to come up with something better. But their shocked expressions meant the worst likely didn't come to pass.

Blake held back a smirk, crossing his arms. He would find a way to get through any hardships life threw at him. He always did.

“Second vote… Will…”

“W-what?” Will whimpered. Blake just deadpanned at him. The brickhouse soon recalled what they had agreed on and blushed, embarrassed to have forgotten it for a second.

The others were too invested in their own troubles to pay attention to the duo.

“Third vote… Alec…”

The librarian humphed. “Don't start celebrating just yet,” he told a certain middle-aged woman upon seeing her smirk.

“Fourth vote… Karol…”

Said smirk quickly morphed into a scowl. “Of course, you'd be a fucking traitor.”

Fiore rolled her eyes. “Look who's talking.”

“Fifth vote… Karol…”

“Shut it, you brat!” Karol barked.

“Sixth vote… Karol…”

Karol balled her fists. Her fate had just been sealed, even with the host electing to drag the ceremony out still. “Screw you, Alec!”

Blake exchanged a look with Will, then joined the conversation. “I'm sorry. Will and I threw our votes onto each other,” he sighed, hanging his head with feigned misery. “I know you told me Alec and Fiore only wanted us both in the alliance because they'd have an easy time getting votes on us once they were done using us. But I didn't want to go against Alec without giving him the benefit of the doubt first… I… I'm such an idiot…”

Fiore and Alec turned to him, appalled. “What the fuck are you talking about?” The former questioned.

In a rare moment of anger, Will glowered at her. “Don't even try denying it. You both just wanted easy meat-shields you two could throw all the blame onto when convenient!” He accused. “Don't even try claiming you're not the type to do that.”

“Obviously… the 4th person voted off Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle is… Karol! Four votes, you're done.”

Karol snarled at the reminder. Her orbs burned with hatred toward that damned librarian. Thus, she seized the opportunity to add onto the pile.

“So, that's why you told me to act ‘bossier than usual’, isn't it?” She chimed in, scowling toward Alec. “It wasn't so those two wouldn't catch on to the existence of the alliance you formed. It wasn't so they wouldn't blab about it to the other team.” She stamped a foot. “You just wanted to make yourself look innocent, isn't that right? I bet that, had Connor not been booted, you would have just ditched Blake and I once merge hit and you'd gotten rid of that Hunter guy! You're absolute scum.”

Noticing Hunter turning to him with narrowed eyes, Alec tried defending himself. “That's not even-”

“You also forced me to bring up Hunter, Tess and Ally's past association with Yul — just because you wanted to ensure Will flipped on them,” Blake accused.

Leaving her seat to head toward the bus-stop, Karol faced her former team one last time to conclude this wave of accusations toward the librarian. “You would've continued playing the part of ‘redeemed villain’, all while being as underhanded as usual, just without the decency to be honest about it. Fucking disgraceful.”

With that, she departed for the bus, whereas Hunter merely stood up and started his way back to the campsite without a word. Worried, Tess soon followed. Seconds later, Blake and Will followed suit.

Fiore and Alec were left alone, the latter just staring on ahead in utter shock — reflecting on how it all went so wrong.

—Confessional :Blake—

“That was a mess,” he stated bluntly. “Yes, Will and I voted for one another. It was my idea.” He crossed his arms.

“Before any losers try criticizing me for it, two things :

First, as you all saw, there was none of the usual time we should have had to think things through. I barely had enough time to whisper this basic idea to Will, anyway. Combine that with my mind being occupied with that mess at the end of the challenge, and I wasn't exactly in the best state to realize that this vote-throwing could have allowed a duo to vote me or Will off.

Second, I was trying to stay neutral. Alec was clearly deadset on eliminating Karol, and three votes wouldn't have been enough to eliminate the guy. Voting for Tess or Hunter wouldn't work either, and would have just further pushed them toward Alec and Fiore. And voting for Karol with the majority might have led to her saying something to screw me over.”

He tapped his foot idly.

“And hey, with her being spiteful enough to claim Alec was the mastermind behind the alliance as well, I might not be as screwed as I could have been otherwise… Even if this is certainly not ideal…”

—Confessional :Hunter—

His arms crossed, he looked off to the side.

“Of course, the moment Tess and I finally get to eliminate Karol, someone else gets exposed as an absolute asshole. I don't even doubt it. Alec is… well, come on. He may have befriended Alec, but look at the shit he pulled. He was far from a good person in season 1, and literally started a Villains Alliance back in Season 3.”

He stood up, holding up a finger.

“Becoming friends with one good person doesn't negate all the stuff he's done. The only reason I'm not gunning for him instantly is because Tess wants me to give him the benefit of the doubt for now… for some reason… But the moment I find more reason to suspect him, he's out of here.”

—End Confessional—

Chapter Text

Brian Smith stood before the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw, a casually smug smirk plastered on his face as usual.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!” He began excitedly. “On the Fierce Gophers, Karol somehow acted even bossier than normal! Quite the feat, really. Meanwhile, over at the Savage Raccoons, Dan was feeling too down to clap back at Ellie for the moment, so she and Alessandro began getting annoyed with each other instead!”

Cut to footage of the challenge, as the host continued narrating.

“We had both teams engage in a classic game of paintball warfare. Unfortunately for the Fierce Gophers, a decent chunk of its members wound up engaging in some… ‘friendly’-fire.”

Clips of the aforementioned fiasco played.

“In the end, Alessandro and Dan won it for the Savage Raccoons — with the latter regaining confidence in himself, too.”

Following that, snippets of last episode's ceremony were shown.

“The chaos from the challenge carried over to the ensuing ceremony, where Alec and Fiore flipped on their alliance, just so the former could send Karol packing! Unfortunately for him, she elected to spite him by painting him as a scheming bastard — a narrative both Blake and Will corroborated.”

Cut back to Brian, who threw both arms in the air, proceeding.

“Twelve competitors remain! Whose dreams of winning will get broken tonight?”

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

“To showing the other team who's boss!” Grett proclaimed, holding a halved coconut — a straw already inserted for easy, clean drinking.

Despite tensions amongst the team remaining as strong as always, Alessandro shrugged, raising his own half as well. “If we try our hardest, I'm sure we can win today as well!” He encouraged, nudging Dan's shoulder playfully to elicit a smile from him.

Tom and Jake nodded in agreement, whereas Ellie squinted.

—Confessional :Grett—

She chuckled good-naturedly. “It's… nice to see the team at least seem united for a moment.” A more strategic glint came to her orbs. “Though, I admit, the main reason I want us to get along is because I'm hoping we can all at least consider working together once merge hits.”

A sigh escaped her lips, as she shook her head. “I know. Expecting the whole team to form some sort of super alliance once merge hits is… unrealistic. But I've technically got ties to both sides for now. And while there is a majority for now, the minority does feature some decent strategy too, I feel.”

—Confessional :Dan—

He sipped coconut water, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Alessandro has really helped me feel more confident in myself. Honestly, thanks to his support, I'm finally feeling as though I have an actual shot at getting to the merge.”

His mood soured, however.

“Now, if only a certain someone learned to quit being such a bitch…”

—End Confessional—

“It felt really good to help win it for the team yesterday,” Dan remarked, contemplating his own beverage. He felt like he was starting to come out of his shell more. And the way a certain model's face brightened up at his declaration helped, too. “I felt… valued…”

Alessandro wrapped a beefy arm around him, drawing him closer with a velvety, proud chuckle. “That's the spirit!”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie chimed in to wreck the good vibes. “Wow, hitting one target yesterday made you finally feel valued? Maybe dial down the drama there.”

The model turned toward her with a scowl. “Are you seriously unable to go a moment without spoiling someone's joy? You mood-ruining, fun-sucking pile of-” However, he stopped upon feeling the now serious Dan tug at his sleeve. Gazing down at the nerd, he nodded understandingly, letting him handle it.

Ellie scoffed. “What ‘amazing’ insult are you spitting now-?” Instead of words, she got a splash of coconut water and meat to the face. She coughed, shocked and pissed. “What the hell?!”

Dan just shot her a glower. “I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today. So, go flap your lips elsewhere, alright?” He told her sternly.

“Screw you, brat.” Ellie stormed off to dry her face and clothing. Tom and Jake exchanged a glance, awkwardly leaving.

Dan merely shrugged plopping down onto one of the logs with a huff, joined by Alessandro.

Grett facepalmed, walking off.

—Confessional :Grett—

“That sure went well,” she remarked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

—Confessional :Ellie—

She wiped her face clean with a random towel, tossing it away in anger once done. “Dan's somehow even more insufferable than usual now. I bet he's never struggled a day in his life. I don't care if he's got some mean comments online. What an asshole.”

—Confessional :Dan—

He just scoffed. “Ellie's still as much of a pain as usual. But, you know what? That just makes me more determined to stick it to her. I'm not going to end up forgotten after this. I'll… make my mark.”

—End Confessional—

“You doing okay?” Alessandro set a hand on the nerd's shoulder, prompting the latter to smile appreciatively.

“I'm not growing depressed again,” he assured the model. “Just pissed at Ellie.” Following a couple moments of silence, he sighed. “I can't wait for the teams to disband. Being in the minority sucks. We're both at the bottom of the team, and we're basically outcasts right now.”

Alessandro nodded. “True. But hey, at least we've still got each other,” he reminded. “That counts for something, right?”

Dan smiled softly. “For sure.”
___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

Hunter and Tess sat together on one of the logs flanking the firepit. The former's eyes soon narrowed, however, as a certain librarian headed toward them, followed by the child.

Alec regarded them awkwardly. Ever since last night, he had been feeling out of it. First, Connor had gotten eliminated. Now, he had been framed. Still, he needed to clear his name. “Look, can we talk?” He requested.

Hunter humphed. “I'm not sure I'm feeling up to it right now,” he responded, his body language guarded. “It's not as though it would be out of character for the both of you to be doing what you were accused of.”

The librarian averted his gaze nervously. “Look, I understand that my actions have warranted the stigma surrounding me. But I assure you I am being honest here, Blake was the one who started an alliance here, not me.”

Hunter shrugged. “You both have no proof, but while you only have Fiore — a known liar, and someone you've always schemed with — supporting you, Blake has Will siding with him. And the latter may be a traitor to a degree, too. But he's too much of a softy to have played along with a lie that elaborate. Besides, for much of a bitch Karol was, she's blunt as can be when pissed.” He turned his head away from the other male, suspicious. “So, excuse me for not blindly believing you.”

“Like you're smart enough to be a good judge of character,” Fiore snarled back at him.

“Whatever, go away,” Hunter retorted, dismissing the two with a wave of his hand.

Fiore opened her mouth to shout at him; however, she halted upon noticing Alec hurrying away into the woods. What? Was he… giving up? Just like that? Why would he do that? That wasn't the underhanded librarian she knew. Not at all…

Hunter humphed. “Guess even he realized when to quit,” he stated frigidly. He directed an unrelenting, aloof gaze toward the ten-year-old. “How about you take a page out of your wannabe father, and buzz off, too?”

Flipping Hunter off with a snarl, she stalked off to go find the librarian.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She pouted. “Hunter's just as much of a piece of work as he was in All-Stars.” A few seconds later, though, her gaze lowered as she reflected on another subject. “Though… even his stubborn attitude usually wouldn't be enough to get Alec to give up without at least making his pitch. Something is up with him.”

—Confessional :Alec—

He exhaled profusely, rubbing his temples. “I… don't know what came over me. I just can't seem to find the energy to do much now.” He curled his hand tightly. “Am I… even still fit for competitions like this one?”

—End Confessional—

From inside one of the tents, Blake spied on the interaction. He waited for both traitors to depart. To get off his way. Once they did, he smirked. Perfect. Now he could…

“Um, Blake?” Will's timid voice sounded from behind the surfer, snipping his train of thought. “I know you said this was important, but why are you spying on them? I don't think that's… too good a look.”

He glanced over his shoulder to address the brickhouse. “Oh, don't worry. Alec and Fiore were just hogging Hunter and Tess' attention for a bit, and I'd rather not have the librarian and the child there while I talk to the duo.”

The gentle giant bit his bottom lip, evidently not too sure about facing those two. “Do I have to come?” He asked. “I know they may have a negative perception of you, but I… at least they don't feel as though you betrayed them. And I'm just… not the best at facing people who are mad at me. I already told you about how Hunter acted the morning after Ally left, and I don't want to risk confronting that again.”

The surfer clapped his shoulder. “No worries, dude. I can go talk to them alone. You can catch some extra Z’s if you want before next challenge.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“To be honest, Will is probably right. That Tess chick probably isn't mad at him — she seems reasonable enough to recognize what he did should've been expected, anyway. But Hunter?” He tutted. “He's clearly still pissed. But hey, it means that, with his new distrust of Alec, getting the man to side with me against the librarian should be easier. So, I'm not complaining.”

—End Confessional—

Tess took the opportunity to bring something up. “I… I don't think we should dismiss Alec and Fiore completely. I mean, Blake is a cheater, after all. He's not really a reliable source either.”

Hunter sighed. “You're not wrong about that, but…” He raised a finger as he came up with a counterargument. “You did tell me not to be so harsh on Will after I confronted him the day after Ally was eliminated because he flipped. And he did back Blake up last night. At the very least, he seems fully convinced the guy's being sincere.”

Acknowledging his point, Tess nodded. “I guess that's a fair point. But still, acting rashly isn't a good idea.”

Before Hunter could reply, Blake approached the duo, taking a seat on the log opposite theirs. “Do you two have a moment?”

Hunter's attention swiftly shifted to the surfer. “I suppose. What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, I know you two may not have the best opinion of me, given I was part of Alec's alliance up until last night…”

“Your past of cheating on Jake doesn't help either,” Tess interjected.

Suppressing an eye-roll, the surfer proceeded. “But you heard how he was planning to backstab me, too, right?” He crossed his arms. “How he only wanted to use people like Karol and I to skate by, then dispose of us once he was able to flip to Connor's side and keep up the image of ‘redeemed villain’.” He replicated air-quotes with his fingers.

“Doesn't sound that out-of-character for him and Fiore,” Hunter huffed, whatever advice he'd gotten from Tess seeming to have gone in one ear and out the other. “Anything actually new to add?”

Holding back a smirk, Blake nodded. “Despite it all, I don't want to just give up over Alec's betrayal, obviously. So, I feel I should emphasize just how much of a strategic threat those two, especially Alec, may truly become if they reach the merge.”

“Don't you think you may be exaggerating it. Everyone knows they're untrustworthy,” Tess pointed out.

The surfer shrugged, continuing to mainly address Hunter. “Perhaps. But they also already knew Fiore was certainly not to be trusted back in All-Stars. And even so, instead of ridding themselves of her immediately after losing the first challenge, they allowed her to survive two whole ceremonies.” Getting up, he drew closer to him. “Speaking of that second time, don't forget you had all just found out about the villains alliance and her involvement in it.” He bent forth, arms behind his back, staring right into his orbs. “And yet, when it was between you and her, what did Ashley and Jake — two people likely holding the biggest grudges against Fiore — do?”

“I… see your point…”

Standing upright once more, Blake returned to his prior position. “Even if you don't know who to believe…” He discreetly shot Tess a brief glance, knowing she was the one keeping what little doubt Hunter retained alive. “Consider who's presence in the merge is more likely to allow you to get farther in the game. As long as I'm in, Jake and Tom will be gunning for me. Even if I get immunity, they'll probably just target whoever they think is most likely to want to work with me.”

“And what if we side with Alec over you?” Tess prompted.

“Well, even without Connor for an easy connection, don't forget how Alec and Fiore both still managed to influence others, even with their reputation from season 1,” he reasoned. “Don't forget how Alec pretty much kickstarted Jake's whole jealous fit over Tom and Aiden's friendship back in All-Stars. Or how Fiore would've definitely gotten Jake to vote Ally off in her elimination episode, had Ashley not pushed so hard for Fiore to get booted.”

Hunter and Tess exchanged looks, the former growing more and more convinced with each argument presented.

“And with Ashley not in this season, do you really think they won't be able to manipulate at least a few from the opposing team?”

“Ellie is on the majority group of that team. She wouldn't let Hunter or I be targeted,” Tess argued, though even she sounded unsure of that.

“Oh, really?” Blake scoffed. “She sure was willing to lie to not only you, but even her own girlfriend back in All-Stars.” Noticing her about to cut in, he quickly addressed the elephant in the room. “And I know what you're about to say. About me cheating on Jake. But the difference is that Ellie never fell out of love with Gabby, the two are still together. If she's willing to lie to someone she genuinely, whole-heartedly loves, why wouldn't she do the same to a college friend.”

The ravenhead hung her head, not really having a counterpoint for that.

With that, the surfer addressed Hunter one last time. “And don't forget Ellie is Tess’ friend, specifically. Have you even hung out with Ellie at all.” Once the other male shook his head, he proceeded. “See? She wouldn't even be targeting someone she really knows by gunning for you, making it easier to justify in her head.”

Falling silent, Blake just observed the two for a bit. Even the so-called therapist seemed somewhat rattled. And Hunter? With how hard his fingers dug into his shirt as he crossed both arms, the surfer wouldn't be shocked if he accidentally made a hole or two in the fabric. Restraining himself from smirk was incredibly hard now, so he figured he had done enough.

He stood to his feet once more. “I'm going to check up on Will. Please, just consider what I've told you.” With that, he retreated back to his tent.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“I know Tess has a point about Blake being a known cheater…” He trailed off, sighing.

He crossed his arms, recollecting some of his interactions with Ally throughout his short run in All-Stars. Of course, he skipped over most of the strife and tension between them, except for one instance of it — more precisely, a few words that now seemed to linger in his mind.

“Think more strategically, Hunter…” he repeated the words to himself. Soon growing determined, he spoke aloud. “Even disregarding last night, there is merit to the guy's argument about Alec potentially being a threat if allowed into the merge.”

—End Confessional—

Leaves swayed gently in the breeze, brushing against one another. Such a placid atmosphere, yet not even a single bird perched on a branch. Behind the lush greenery and cloudless weather, there was inescapable desolation.

His back leaning against the trunk of a tree, Alec couldn't help but relate to it. He didn't choose to feel this way. He wanted to believe Connor's words, he did. That old CEO believed he could be a good person, and the librarian didn't want to disappoint. But now, could he really deny the truth? If he had sided with villains up until yesterday, and was still seen as a villain by Hunter (and likely Tess, too), could he really claim he wasn't a villain anymore?

Alec covered his face, frustrated. What was he even doing now, anyway? Wasting time, sitting on his ass? Hunter and Tess were definitely swing votes now, yet he'd walked away the second the former said he didn't wish to talk. He should've been back at the campsite, speaking, regardless of whether either of the two wanted to listen. And yet, just considering it made him feel so lethargic.

“There you are,” a familiar voice snapped the librarian out of his thoughts. Fiore emerged from amidst the surrounding trees. Looking irritated, yet puzzled, she approached him.”What has been up with you recently, anyway?” She questioned. “You've been acting so strange lately.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. Even though he knew the answer already. He was just trying to put off having to provide an explanation, for he had no idea how he'd articulate what he felt. Besides, he didn't want to burden her with his sorrows.

Narrowing her eyes, she scoffed. “I may be ten, but you, of all people, should know I'm no naive fool.” She stamped a foot. “For the last few days, it's like you've grown less determined to actually play the game. Even yesterday, you only seemed to care about getting back at Karol for… what? Supposedly getting Connor booted somehow?”

Expelling a somber sigh, she folded her arms, averting her gaze. Her tone softened temporarily. “I… stuck by you when you made that move, because I figured you had it under control. And yet, here you are. Lounging and moping around in the woods, while we should be trying our hardest to get the pasty ravenhead pair on our side…”

The librarian winced, feeling worse than before. How could he have so easily neglected the effects his move would have on Fiore's own position? It was one thing to wreck his own game — it was another thing entirely to ruin hers while at it.

Fiore noticed his exacerbated despondency, her anger dropping. She took a step closer. “Alec… are you okay?”

Before he was forced to answer, the loudspeakers came to life.

“Attention, campers! You have fifteen minutes to come for your next challenge! Same place as yesterday!”

___________

Appearing before their host, who held a rather long stick, first, the Savage Raccoons awaited the opposing team.

Ellie stared daggers toward Dan. Noticing this, the nerd returned the gesture. Alessandro clapped his friend's shoulder supportively, narrowing his orbs at the glaring woman, too. Observing this continuous tension, Grett felt slight concern yet again.

In the meantime, the married couple stuck together.

“Man, I wish Connor had made it, though,” Jake lamented. “I know we have to keep going, that’s what he wants. But he deserved so much better than 14th place… especially when certain people have now gotten further into the game than him.”

Despite nodding along, Tom endeavored to cheer his husband up once more. “Come on, chin up,” he urged. “Maybe Blake's luck finally ran out last night-”

Overhearing the oh-so-wrong prediction, Brian chortled. Ignoring the looks sent his way, he spotted the Fierce Gophers, as they finally came out of the woods. “Say hello to the new Fierce Gophers,” he declared to the Savage Raccoons. “Karol became the 4th person voted off from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Tom's optimism dissipated. “Guess I got too hopeful there,” he conceded, as his husband frowned at a particular surfer's continued survival.

“How is he even still here?” Jake muttered loudly.

Hearing the complaints, Blake just rolled his eyes. “Maybe you'll be less mad once you start focusing more on your own team,” he recommended backhandedly.

“Shut up!” Tom spat, getting an eye-roll in response.

The host cleared his throat to draw attention back to himself. “Now, now — focus on competing. You'll have plenty of time to bicker at each other if you reach the merge,” he teased. “Now, let me explain the challenge.”

“For your challenge, you'll all be going on a search through the woods,” he stated, plunging the rod onto the ground. He slowly burrowed it deeper into the ground, until it stuck firmly without him holding onto it. An intern handed him a can of spray. “You'll be after trees we have marked like this.” He spray-painted a thick, red circle onto the grass around it.

Fishing out a key, Brian twirled it in his finger. “In each marked tree, you'll find one of these. In total, there are twelve keys and eleven marked trees — don't question it. And if you're wondering what purpose these serve…” He snapped his fingers, cuing another intern to come in with two small boxes — each kept shut by six locks — and a pail. Both boxes had a letter spray-painted onto their tops — one had a S, the other a F. “Once you have found a key, come back here and use it to remove a lock from whichever box features the first letter of your team name.”

The host held up the pail. “Of course, to prevent any cheating, the interns and I will stay here to supervise you. Every time a key is used, you're to drop it in this bucket. If anyone tries being a smartass and cheat, their team will get an automatic loss. Don't forget we have cameras planted all around. If you break the rules, we will know.”

Everyone exchanged uneasy looks.

“Whichever team manages to unlock their box first wins.” He flung both hands upward, shouting out his next and final sentence. “Without further ado, go!” His command sent everyone scattering into the woods, some going in pairs, others solo.

___________

“Jake…” Tom commenced, as the duo trekked through the woods together in search of those damned keys. He didn't quite understand why such a specific topic had come to mind, nor why only now. But still, he couldn't help but want to know. “Sorry if it's intrusive, but… when that bastard cheated on you and the relationship ended… did he… do something? Like, spread rumors or lie about what happened? I… you never introduced me to any friends from before you came onto the show. So… did he do something?”

Blinking in surprise, Jake averted his gaze. “That's…” He trailed off.

Fearing he had overstepped, Tom began backpedaling. “Oh. I-I'm so sorry, Jake. I didn't mean to pry into anything that may be hurtful to think about. Just know it's not your fault if Blake managed to turn others against you.”

Jake came to a stop, as did his husband. “No… he… didn't need to say anything at all for them to ditch me once the relationship ended,” he clarified.

Tom gaped, blinking with bewilderment. “They… didn't even need to be persuaded? They just left you the moment you two separated?” He balled a fist. “Those assholes are even worse than I-”

The other held up a hand, signaling for him to quiet down so he could explain. “They were never really my friends, actually. Only his. His ‘surfer-bros’, you can say. They were always hanging out, and I was just the tag-along. And once Blake and I were no longer together, they simply saw no reason to reach out.”

Tom shook his head stubbornly. “Still, they are assholes for sticking by someone like that,” he asserted.

Thankfully for Jake, an out came in the form of him spotting a circle spray-painted around the base of a tree. “Look, Tom! That tree's marked! Let's go find the key!” He hastened before his partner could argue, forcing the latter to tail him.

___________

Sprinting through the woods, Blake skidded to a stop upon noticing red grass encircling the base of a tree. Changing course, he bolted toward it with a smirk.

___________

“I've got this!” Tom assured, climbing up the trunk. It didn't take much effort to find the key, as it was taped onto the trunk with material of a rather lurid hue. “Found it,” he said, glancing back down to send his beloved a thumbs-up.

Shoving the bad vibes back down, Jake giggled at his husband's antics. “Be careful up there,” he warned.

The himbo waved his concerns off. “Don't worry. No way this stud is messing up,” he bragged playfully, winking at him. Grasping the patch of tape pinning the key to the bark, he began tugging hard. In his carelessness, however, he wound up plummeting down the moment he managed to tear it off. Fortunately, the fall was far too short for any actual damage to come to him — the soft grass also prevented his landing from being too rough.

Jake rushed over. “No way you're messing up, huh?” He teased, causing his beefier partner's cheeks to redden.

“Fine, I messed up,” he grumbled lightly, pouting.

“Come on, you big oaf,” Jake teased, ruffling his hair. He then pointed the way they'd come from. “Let's get going.”

___________

“There's a marked one!” Hunter pointed out. “Come on, Tess.” He rushed toward the singled out oak tree.

Tess followed, but her expression seemed troubled. Something ate away at her. She couldn't help but worry Hunter hadn't managed to fully cope with Ally's elimination yet. Even so, she had remained mostly silent since the morning, not wanting to seem overbearing by pestering him about him repeatedly.

But as she watched him start scaling the trunk, it began becoming too much to hold in.

The velocity with which he climbed, the frequent grunts from accidentally hitting a branch, or even the trunk itself, with his knee or elbow due to moving too aggressively. He wasn't being careful. He was starting to push himself, clearly. And it felt as though he would inevitably strain himself way too much.

It bothered her to no end…

“Hunter… you don't have to go so fast, you know? I don't want you to risk getting hurt.”

“It's fine, really,” Hunter reassured. He ripped the tape — as well as the key it held — off the bark, nearly losing his grip. Thankfully, he regained it. Good thing, too, as this key had been placed quite high up the tree. A fall from this height would have been quite dangerous. “I'm alright, don't worry.” He began making his way back down.

“Why are you going for the win so hard, exactly? I mean, both Alec and Blake are trying to get us to side with them against the other. That means we're swing-votes, not the targets anymore,” Tess reminded.

Once close enough to the ground, Hunter hopped off the trunk, landing on both feet with a thud. “Well, you think we shouldn't be so quick to go against Alec, while I think he's probably a snake. Since we haven't reached a consensus, I'd rather keep us from having to choose for as long as possible.”

Tess was surprised. She hadn't expected that to be why he was pushing himself so hard today. Guilt swelled within her. She didn't wish for him to do this to himself, just so he wouldn't have to disagree with her on the vote. And she knew Ally would've felt the same way, had she been the one still here over Tess.

Tess set a hand on his shoulder. “Hunter… you… you don't need to push yourself so hard just so you don't need to disagree with me.” She looked down, pondering. Though aware she could wind up regretting this later, her mind was set either way. “Whichever side you choose, know that I'll stand by you.”

Although this obviously didn't cure his troubles, Hunter smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Tess.” After thinking a little, he had an idea. “Let's look for one or two more keys before going to use them. That might save us time, instead of going back and forth for each key we find.”

___________

Click

The first lock, belonging to the Savage Raccoon's box, came off. Dropping the used key on the pail as instructed, Tom high-fived Jake.

“One lock down, only five to go!” Jake enthused.

“I bet that shifty surfer hasn't found crap yet!” Tom cheered back eagerly.

Their celebration was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. The very individual the himbo just shit-talked came and removed a lock from the Ferocious Gopher's box. “You were saying,” Blake taunted, racing back into the forest smugly.

The couple glowered after him.

Brian chuckled. “That was fun, buuuut… let's make sure we don't spend too much time on each person's boring search. Otherwise, this will be tedious.” With that, he snapped fingers.

___________

A montage began.

Ellie and Grett traversed the woods together, the former still in a bad mood from what occurred that morning. The latter sighed.

Alec tried his hardest; however, either by irony of fate or just coincidence, he and Fiore were having no luck in finding a single key.

Dan gave it his all, attempting to scale a marked tree. However, his scrawny body was merely not up to the task, and he fell before he could even reach the key — which hung from the lowest possible branch, to add insult to injury. Thankfully, a pair of tanned, muscled arms caught him. With a charming smile, Alessandro devised an idea. Dan climbed onto his shoulders, getting enough height to reach the key. The nerd totally missed the model's slight blush as he did this.

Hunter and Tess searched for another marked tree, but it was taking a while.

___________

“There we go,” Brian chuckled, sipping a fancy beverage.

An intern arched an eyebrow. “Um… what? There we go? What do you mean?” They asked obliviously.

Rolling his eyes, our lovely host threw the drink in their face instead of responding.

___________

Blake came across another highlighted tree. “Jackpot,” he said with a smirk. Without hesitation, he shimmied up the trunk, tearing off the tape, only for his eyes to widen, as he got two keys instead of just one. Grinning widely, he quickly descended, twirling the pair in his finger. He began walking off.

But then, as if by fate, he bumped right into none other than Alessandro and Dan.

“You seem happy,” the model observed, stroking his chin as he regarded the surfer with curiosity. “What's up?”

Blake shrugged smugly. “Not much, just got two keys off one tree. Guess that's why there were only eleven trees for twelve keys,” he chuckled, twirling them in his finger still. “Sure, things have become a bit of a mess on my team. But I have a feeling I might be able to get it under control, and not having to face a ceremony for another round will certainly help me feel safer.”

“Lucky you,” Dan sighed. “Grett still seems set on remaining neutral, and I'm afraid she may side with Ellie if we have to go through another ceremony again, despite how much of an asshole the latter has been.” He gazed down. “If that happens, I'm toast.”

Alessandro set a hand on the nerd's shoulder to console him, before recalling something. “Actually, yeah, that's a fair point,” he mused. He turned to Blake. “When you told us to target Connor two days ago, you agreed that you'd repay the favor if needed. And I think it's time you fulfill your end of the deal.”

That swiftly dampened Blake's former good mood. “Let me guess, you want me to hand you these keys and basically throw the challenge,” he figured it out. He hummed, tossing up the keys, then catching them with a hand, which he balled into a tight fist. “I'm not one to purposefully lose often. But I'll hear you out.”

Alessandro sighed. “Look, I know throwing the challenge for your team is a massive thing for me to ask of you. But… think about it. You seem to at least have a somewhat decent shot at getting the votes to go the way you want them to if your team loses,” he reasoned.

Blake set a hand against his sides, turning his back to them as he hummed. “I suppose that's true. While the both of you are in oh-so-much danger, aren't you?”

Suppressing an eye-roll at the condescending tone, Alessandro spoke again. “Um… sure. Point being, you'll have a much better shot at keeping a strong alliance for the merge by letting your team lose. Besides, don't you have a teammate you really want to get rid of right now? You might as well just go for it.”

—Confessional :Blake—

He sighed. “Well, that model's made a fair point. Letting either him or the nerd get booted tonight means the alliance we've arranged for the merge will be severely weaker.”

He smacked a fist down onto his palm.

“Losing a challenge intentionally sucks. But letting Jake get me eliminated, especially after he and his dumb himbo kept fucking with me these past few days? That would suck even harder!”

—End Confessional—

Blake dropped both keys onto the model's hand. “You better hope I've managed to fully convince Hunter and Tess that Alec's the one responsible for that trainwreck of a former alliance. Otherwise, you're both dead. Follow me, but stay hidden in the undergrowth so you're not seen if I stumble into anyone else.”

He whipped around to resume exploring.

“Wait,” Dan suddenly chimed in, startling the other two slightly, given he'd been quiet for a good chunk of the exchange. The nerd had a determined glint in his eyes. A plan. That's what his mind had conjured up. “I think only Alessandro should accompany you. I might have an idea to ensure your safety tonight. I just need you to tell me more about the situation on your team first.”

Alessandro couldn't help but smile proudly, giving the surfer a nod when given a quizzical glance.

Shrugging, Blake began filling them in on it.

—Confessional :Dan—

He cleaned up the lens of his glasses, before perching them back on.

“Alessandro has helped me a lot these past few days. He's the main reason I survived both ceremonies I've attended so far this season. He's formed the alliance with Blake, which will help us immensely if we all reach the merge. And he's now gotten the surfer to throw, basically saving me a third time…”

He sighed sheepishly.

“Yeah… I haven't played a good game so far, that much is obvious. But I want to change that. Both for myself… and so I can repay him for all the support. I want to contribute to ensuring Alessandro's plan goes well.”

Crossing his arms, he smirked.

“And I think I know just how to do it.”

—End Confessional—

___________

The episode returned to montage mode.

Whilst Ellie kept looking side to side angrily, Grett actually paid attention to her surroundings. As such, she spotted a red circle fringing the base of a tree. Glancing back at Ellie to see the latter hadn't noticed it, she rolled her eyes, walking over and scaling it herself. The key hung from a branch, which she had to move in order to catch the item. However, it was too thin, snapping from Grett's weight as soon as she caught the key.

Blake came across Will, taking the opportunity to make sure the latter knew who to vote for if they lost. Given neither had come across any more keys, Alessandro — who had been following the surfer, concealed by foliage — figured he should just go use the two keys he had.

Jake tapped Tom's shoulder, pointing toward another marked tree.

Hunter was so frustrated, he was about to just return and use the single key they had already. But then, Tess tapped on his shoulder to draw his attention, then pointed over to a tree with a circle spray-painted around its base.

___________

It settled upon Fiore and Alec's rather pathetic display.

By now, Fiore had her fists balled to a point it was impossible to tighten them further. Thirty minutes. They had wasted all that time foraging for a damn key, yet had come across jackshit. Her feet were starting to ache from walking so much. And she was growing extremely tired. But somehow, the lack of effort from the librarian accompanying her was what pissed her off the most.

Alec trudged on behind her so unsteadily, it appeared like every step might just be the one where he dropped. What had happened to the seemingly unassuming, yet cunning man Fiore had colluded with back in Season 1? The guy she had genuinely bonded with while failing at the comeback challenge in All-Stars.

It made her so… so…

“Could you be any slower?!” Fiore snapped, swiveling around to scowl at him. “We're in the middle of a challenge!” She stomped on the grass underneath her. “We don't have time for whatever is going on in your head!”

Those words finally knocked the librarian down to rock-bottom. He leaned against a tree, sliding down until he was sitting, sighing.

“I… need a moment… alone…” He mumbled.

Fiore nearly lost her footing, taken aback. This man sounded so unlike the guy she knew. So broken. A pang of guilt hit her. Had she driven him past some point of no return? Her parents always did say their lives would have been miles better had she never…

That horrid thought was mercifully cut short, as she spotted a tree with a circle spray-painted onto the grass around its base. She gazed at Alec. Obviously, he hadn't noticed it. Masking her thoughts of self-loathing with a snarl, she stormed toward it.

“Fine! I'll retrieve the key myself!” She shouted as she began moving up the trunk, not noticing how Alec tilted his head to gaze in her direction upon hearing that.

She was so done. Done with her parents. Done with that damn boarding school, with those stupid nuns and wretched kids.

She was done with everyone-

In her angered state, her caution had dropped to perilous levels. Thus, she wound gripping a thin branch, which snapped as soon as she went to grab onto another, sending her falling a considerable height. With both surprise and fear burning through her, she screamed, bracing herself for a broken limb, followed by a medical evacuation, and a pathetic, lonely life.

But she instead landed in someone's arms. She unfastened her eyes, and was greeted with a librarian's guilt-ridden, worried face.

“Fiore, I'm so sorry. I… I shouldn't have been so weak…” He apologized profusely. “I shouldn't have allowed my problems to affect you, too.” He set her down. “I… understand if you hate me now.”

Fiore blinked in surprise, then smacked him across the face. Before he could react, she snapped back. “I never hated you, dumbass! I just- I didn't know what to do. You've always been so collected that seeing like this…” Her tone faltered. “...hurt.”

He set her down gently. “I will get the key, okay?” Upon receiving a quiet nod, he began scaling the trunk, performing much better than she had. Much better than he would have just a minute ago, actually. Even if his drive to play would never return, he had new motivation. To make sure someone he cared about would still have a shot at changing her life for the better.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She was shaken. “I… I don't know what happened back there. I felt… valued. Like, Alec cared for my well-being. I know he's already shown he cares before. But… it's like I'm only realizing it now. He's like the…”

She shook her head.

“D-Don't be ridiculous,” she berated herself.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself.

“I just hope we can both make it far again. Together.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Click
Click

Two locks came off, and two keys were dropped into the pail.

Hunter frowned, gazing toward the other team's box. “How are they still ahead?” He griped. Two consecutive losses would be so embarrassing. He couldn't believe how poorly they were doing.

Tess shook his shoulder gently. “Come on, it's not all bad,” she futilely tried comforting. Sighing, she looked to the side, before a small smile graced her lips. “If nothing else, I'm grateful for how much you care about making sure we don't have to be at odds with one another over the vote.”

“I still don't trust Alec much,” Hunter sighed. “But I guess I might be willing to let him speak before the vote tonight.”

“I… I wouldn't be so sure about that…”

Both stopped upon hearing the timid voice that suddenly cut into their exchange. Turning toward the source, they saw Dan standing nearby. The nerd was trembling, checking his surroundings constantly, as though afraid of others seeing him.

“Dan?” Tess questioned. “What are you referring to?”

Dan hugged himself tighter. “I… I can't tell you out here in the open. I don't want to get myself in trouble or put a target on my back,” he explained. “Can we head into the forest and talk in private?”

Hunter crossed his arms sternly. “We're in the middle of a challenge,” he emphasized.

Dan gazed at both with wide, pleading orbs. “Please… I'm… I promise I'm just trying to help.” He took deep breaths, composing himself the best could so as to better articulate his point. “While walking through the woods, I overheard Blake talk about what Alec's been up to. And well, one the day Connor was eliminated, I… saw something.”

Hunter and Tess exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

With their attention on him, the nerd retreated into the mass of trees. Not hesitating, Hunter sprinted after him, followed by Tess. Once far enough into the woods, Dan stopped, allowing the duo to catch up. With a deep breath, he began recounting what he knew.

“After the challenge, I was afraid and felt like total garbage. I had lost yet another chance to prove myself. Yes, I had that advantage that allowed me to steal two votes. But still, what would I do after that?”

His back still facing them, he pretended to wipe tears off his face.

“Regardless, because of that, I didn't exactly have the energy to return to camp immediately once the challenge ended. Alessandro stuck by my side, he was the only one who did. But that allowed us both to notice Alec and Connor heading off into the woods together. We were both curious, and I wanted to stop thinking about how much of a failure I felt I was, so we just… followed and eavesdropped…

Alec… he assured Connor he was only going to keep Blake and Karol around until he managed to get to the merge and eliminate you, Hunter. After that, he would dump the blame onto whichever of his two ‘servants’ was still around by that point, then turn on them and flip to Connor's side.”

“WHAT?!” Hunter exclaimed, outraged. He was positively enraged. That bastard really had deceived them. And to think he had almost given that snake the benefit of the doubt.

Before Tess could even try and calm him down, Brian's voice blasted off the loudspeakers.

“And with two more keys from Tom and Grett, the Savage Raccoons win this challenge. Fierce Gophers, I'll see you for the second consecutive night.”

“I-I'm really sorry you had to find out the truth like this. I've got to go,” Dan stammered, then dashed off.

___________

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Hunter and Tess can fuck off!” She spat bitterly. “Those assholes didn't even come to the campsite at all in the time between the challenge ending and us needing to attend the ceremony!”

She tried our hardest to suppress the tears welling in her eyes.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“What Dan informed us of only confirmed what I already suspected ever since last night,” he stated coldly.

—Confessional :Alec—

“I have a pretty good idea of how this ceremony will likely go… to be honest, I don't feel as negatively about the probable outcome as I normally would. But still, I… have to make one final attempt — Fiore wouldn't want me to just quit without trying. She's made that clear.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Hours later, night had fallen upon Camp Tipiskaw.

At the elimination ceremony, the six remaining members of the Fierce Gophers occupied the stumps.

“Look at that. Not even a day, and you're all back here,” Brian taunted. Upon seeing Hunter cross his arms with a huff, he poked at them some more. “And here I thought you'd be better than that. I never expected you all to stoop so-”

“Can we get on with it?!” Hunter barked.

“Alright, alright, no need to get heated,” the host replied. “Time to get voting-”

Suddenly, Alec and Fiore shared a nod, the former standing up.

“Before we vote, I have something to say,” the librarian announced.

Hunter tsked. “What?”

“I know I do not have the cleanest history regarding this show. But please, I implore you to at least consider this. Blake is a known cheater, and is clearly the type to manipulate others to his advantage. With Fiore and I, you would at least know what to expect. Can you say the same about him.”

Hunter turned away from Alec with a huff, unmoved. Tess stared at the ground.

Sighing, the librarian gazed directly at Will, who felt a shiver run up his spine from merely becoming the center of attention.

“You know Ashley is good friends with Jake. Do you feel she is proud right now, watching you side with someone who hurt him so much?”

The brickhouse's eyes bulged, his mouth falling open. He was shocked into utter silence. Ashley… she'd understand, right? Right?

Before Alec could continue his appeal however, Blake stood up, clapping slowly.

“Bravo, bravo,” the surfer congratulated mockingly. “Is that really your argument for why they should vote me out? The fact I cheated on someone years ago?”

He stalked closer.

“And I find it rich of you to urge Will to think about how Ashley would feel. Weren't you one of the main reasons she got eliminated in All-Stars?”

Fiore tried interjecting. “Oh, you're not going to bring up crap from a year ago-”

Blake cut her off, focusing on Alec still. “And let's not forget the very next episode. Where you had the idea to sabotage others in hopes of getting a villain back in. If not for that, Ashley would have likely won her way back in.”

The host cleared his throat with a smug smirk. “Loving the drama here, but it's time to get voting.”

Blake got in Alec's face with a menacing grin.

“Oh, I can't wait.”

___________

Without even a montage of them voting, and skipping past Brian questioning whether anyone desired to play an immunity totem, the final verdict began.

“First vote… Blake…”

The surfer stood up with a humph.

“Second vote… Blake…”

He just glowered toward Alec, who returned the hostility.

“That's two votes Blake so far… third vote…

Alec…”

The librarian remained dignified. In fact, Fiore seemed way more affected than him, gritting her teeth and balling her fists. She shot a glare toward Hunter and Tess. Whilst the latter averted her gaze, the former narrowed his eyes right back at the child.

“Fourth vote… Alec! That's two votes Alec and Blake, with two votes left to read.”

Blake merely sat back down. Will gazed toward with concern… and a hint of something else. But the surfer just shrugged, unworried.

“Fifth vote… Alec! That's three votes Alec, and two votes Blake. One vote left…”

Ignoring the others, Alec just gave Fiore a resigned smile. The latter shook her head, snapping her head toward the final parchment, desperately hoping for a tie.

“Fifth person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle… Alec! That's four votes, time for you to go.”

The librarian stood up, resigned.

However, Fiore certainly wasn't accepting of this. She whipped around to glower toward Hunter and Tess, shoulders heaving wildly, orbs watery and filled with hatred… but also sorrow.

Hunter scoffed. “What? Mad because we didn't let your buddy walk all over us? Just be glad you weren't considered the bigger threat between you two.”

Right as she was about to blow up on the bastard for that statement, Alec pulled her into a warm embrace. Just like that, all ire crumbled away into pure heartache. She buried her head in his shoulder as he held her, sobbing loudly as he departed for the bus-stop.

Will winced, tearing his gaze away. He had yearned to get payback on Fiore for so long. But now that the moment came, he didn't feel good about it at all. It was… awful. Plain and simple.

Tess heaved a despondent sigh, orbs drifting to the side to check on Hunter. He just crossed his arms and turned away, though she didn't overlook the slight trembles going through his body every now and again.

___________

“I don't want you to go…” Fiore cried, as the librarian finally set her down on the bench. This was where they'd have to part ways for now. But she wasn't ready for it. She had never been playing on her own to such a degree before. Sure, she had outlasted him in her debut season, but he had still gotten 4th place. And in All-Stars, she had been an early boot, whereas he still managed to make it all the way to the final 6. This was very different. “How will I even get theough this without you? There's no way.”

Alec shook his head. “You know that is not true, Fiore. You came up with many schemes on your own in the pre-merge back in season 1,” he reminded. “I know you can do this. Just… don't let your anger prevent you from allying with whoever will let you advance further in that game. Can you promise me that?”

Swallowing her tears, she nodded shakily. “I promise…”

The two shared one last hug, before the bus pulled up. Moments later, it sped off.

Fiore remained on the bench, now alone. Was she even fully there herself? Because part of her sure felt empty now…

Chapter Text

The entrance to Camp Tipiskaw faded in. Seconds later, Brian Smith ambled into frame, both hands behind him. However, instead of being at the center as usual, he stood to his left. With a cheeky smirk and wink, he began narrating, the scene cutting to footage from last episode.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…”

The footage cut to mostly Fierce Gophers moments.

“Following the mess that descended upon the team at Karol's elimination ceremony, Hunter was left extremely distrustful of Fiore and especially Alec. And due to the man's troubles, he didn't do much to counter said accusations, allowing Blake to stoke Hunter's hostility toward the librarian even further.”

Cut to snippets from the challenge.

“Campers were tasked with retrieving keys to unlock their team's box. But it was far from straightforward. Discussions held, emotions were shared. A certain surfer got convinced to throw, while a nerd fed Hunter a bunch of lies just as he'd been about to start considering hearing Alec's side out.”

A montage of sped-up scenes from the ceremony played.

“And thus, despite pulling a rather dramatic move just before voting commenced, Alec couldn't escape becoming the fifth person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Cutting back to the host, the reason for their unusual position in frame became clear.

Icons for all sixteen players were now superimposed on the empty space beside him, arranged into two neat lines — each featuring eight contestants. Suddenly, it changed.

Nick, Ally, Connor, Karol and Alec's pictured greyed out, their graphics fading out of their original spots, only to reappear on a separate line below the rest. The remaining icons were then rearranged into a single line.

“Five players have already kissed their chances of winning goodbye. And now?”

The host's grin widened, before the episode started cutting to a bunch of mini-clips of the eleven remaining contestants. His speech accompanied this montage still.

“Our final eleven are about to have their games flipped on their heads! That's right! Did you think these teams would last much longer?” He tutted. “You thought wrong! Who will crash and burn immediately once the merge is set in place? Find out, on this episode of Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

___________

(Fierce Gophers’ Camp)

Flames crackled and burned within the firepit. This was the sole source of illumination for the campsite right now. Around an hour had elapsed since Alec's departure. Most members had already retreated into their tents, and slumbered.

But not Fiore.

She sat on one of the logs still, contemplating the fire. Despite the librarian's encouragement, she couldn't get over what transpired so quickly. Of course, she wasn't giving up outright. Doing so would mean disappointing the only person who truly gave a shit about her. But she was unable to just go and fall asleep as though everything was fine.

It wasn't fine. It wouldn't be fine for a long time.

She rubbed her eyes, either to stave off exhaustion or tears. She couldn't ascertain which anymore. Desolation threatened to engulf her mind. Taking a deep breath, she tried focusing on the piece of advice he gave her.

Just… don't let your anger prevent you from allying with whoever will let you advance further in that game.

The words rang through her mind. She knew who she would likely need to work with. She didn't exactly feel thrilled to do so after this. But the tip was sound, and she wanted to make him proud. Besides, if she was honest, the surfer wasn't even the guy she loathed most for this.

Hunter was.

Clenching a fist, she snarled at the mere thought of the bastard. That asshole had already been insulting her throughout All-Stars. And now, he had caused Alec's elimination. And why? Because he believed the words of a damn Karen, an untrustworthy surfer and Will?!

“Bastard,” she muttered, bitterness swirling within. But she reminded herself of Alec's advice. She sure as hell wouldn't attempt to reach out to the ass-hat still. However, she would just… try and evade interaction if possible. Both him and especially Blake would be meatshields once merge hit, assuming she even made it there.

Her confidence plummeted. How much longer would it take for the teams to merge? She could see herself surviving one more ceremony, if at least one of the two duos prioritized solidifying themselves as the new majority on the team. But if they lost again after that… she… would be a disappointment again…

___________

(Savage Raccoons’ Camp)

“So, who do you think the other team voted off this time?” Grett queried, plucking berries from a bush discovered mere minutes ago. Good thing Ellie had insisted they bring a basket just in case. “I didn't approach any members of the opposing team, but I can tell tensions have been high over there.”

Thanks to how things went last time Grett endeavored to unite the team, her approach shifted. Instead of attempting to bring the whole group together, she figured she was better off just strengthening her own connection to both sides. Due to Dan and Alessandro naturally keeping more to themselves, she opted to bond with the other trio first. Which was the secret reason why she gathered Tom, Jake and Ellie to accompany her on a stroll through the woods.

“I hope Blake finally got eliminated,” Jake huffed, rolling his eyes. “I don't even know how he's even made it through two elimination ceremonies so far.” He set a hand on his side, eyes going downcast as he sighed. “I really… really would prefer not seeing him in the merge.” Tom slung a comforting arm over his shoulder.

“Well, guess I'm not the only one who really doesn't want to see someone make the merge,” Ellie remarked. “How has Dan gotten this far, anyway?”

Grett suppressed an eye-roll. Of course, she and Ellie had become friends due to Gabby — and this was far from something capable of putting said friendship at risk. However, she sometimes wondered why the other harbored such a dislike toward the nerd.

“Because Nick was utterly insufferable, and so an obvious boot the first time we attended a ceremony this season.” Grett began listing off. “Then, he got lucky enough to find an advantage that let him steal two votes. And with Alessandro on his side, that mounted to four votes, enough to send Connor packing.” She made sure to stick to the story they had established. “And we haven't lost again yet. It's not that complicated.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Ellie muttered, holding the basket for her to keep depositing berries in.

Tom hummed, tapping his chin. “You know, I wonder why um… Alessandro's friend.” His cheeks flushed with embarrassment over forgetting the nerd's name yet again. But he soon proceeded. “I wonder why he targeted Connor, of all people.”

Ellie shrugged. “I mean, did Dan really do anything memorable enough regarding the game the first time he played for us to get an idea of his strategy skills? Perhaps he's just always stuck at it, and we're only seeing it now.”

“Fair enough,” Tom accepted that logic without thinking, embracing his husband, who also didn't care to think too deeply about it.

Grett didn't seem too sure about that, yet kept her doubts to herself.

___________

Back inside one of the team tents, another discussion was held.

“So, if something relating to that comes up again, we'll have to stay consistent,” Dan explained, just done recounting his interaction with Hunter and Tess yesterday. “Hopefully, that fully swayed them to Blake's side.”

Alessandro nodded, impressed. “I'm sure Hunter bought it,” he assured. “The guy's judgment has probably been clouded, given how on edge he seemed. With him already suspecting Alec, you simply stoked what was there from the start.”

Assuming the model meant his move was nothing noteworthy, Dan averted his gaze with a sigh. “Oh… well, you're right, I guess. My move wasn't too impressive.”

Shaking his head, Alessandro slapped a hand onto his shoulder. “It's a compliment, actually. When you try to sow discord from nothing, it's more likely to either fail or draw suspicion to you — sometimes both. On the other hand, by stirring a grudge or feeling of hostility someone already has toward someone else, it's much harder to trace it back to you. In other words, good job on keeping it subtle.”

At the praise, Dan beamed. “Wow, thanks. I… I really appreciate you, you know?” He gave him a hug.

The model reciprocated the gesture, but his cheerful expression briefly faltered, worry permeating it, alongside a soft blush.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I'm really glad to have finally found an actual friend within the game,” he admitted. “And I hope the two of us can continue working together.” He sighed, averting his gaze. “Even if I doubt I'll be seeing Alessandro again once the game ends. He's a model, after all. I'm sure he'll have many way more important things to focus on.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I have many fans, even though I haven't gotten to move into the acting industry yet, I know that,” he assured with an uneasy smile.

He placed both hands on his lap, his face falling.

“But… I never really got to have a friend, let alone a special someone. Sure, many say they want me. And I appreciate all my fans, I do. But I feel as though no one has ever been drawn by who I am as a person. Only my looks.” He stared off to the side longingly. “Dan is one of the first people I've met who likes me as a person. And, well… I guess that might be starting to make my attachment to him more intense than the usual bond between friends…” He admitted.

Realizing what he was implying, he shook his head. “I know he may wind up watching it once the show is over and released, so I'll have to be honest eventually. But not now, I just… don't know how to tackle the subject… and we need to focus on the game.”

—End Confessional—

Coincidentally, just as they broke the hug, Brian's voice blared through the speakers.

“Attention, campers! Report to the center of Tipiskaw for a special announcement!”

___________

“Hey,” Blake whispered to Will. The duo trailed behind the remainder of the team, as they trekked through the woods to reach the clearing. “I think we may need to ensure Fiore sides with us now.”

The brickhouse arched an eyebrow, puzzled. “But… wasn't she in on Alec's scheme? Shouldn't she be the next boot? I'm certain Hunter is on board with voting her out next.”

The surfer sighed exasperatedly. “But what if we lose twice before the merge? Do you want to risk a tiebreaker?” He questioned.

Eyes widening in realization, Will shook his head. “I'm not sure I'd be able to concentrate. I'd probably crack under pressure,” he conceded.

The other crossed his arms with a satisfied look. “Exactly. Better not to risk it, right? Besides, now that she doesn't have Alec by her side, Fiore is more likely to be looking for allies. Meanwhile, Ellie would likely pull Tess to her side, and Hunter may very well follow,” he pointed out. “And something tells me Fiore may hate Hunter's guts more than mine.” He pointed ahead.

Hunter was shooting daggers at Fiore, who bitterly forged on, forcing herself not to acknowledge him.

The brickhouse gulped at the tension, seeing the surfer's point.

—Confessional :Will—

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I… um… I guess the tension isn't something temporary,” he sighed. “I know I should've expected this. But… I… I don't even know what I thought would occur instead.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Cut to the Savage Raccoons already at the clearing, standing before Brian Smith.

Like always, Alessandro and Dan stood together. They stayed away from Ellie and Grett. The former kept her arms crossed and a stern look in her face. The latter just inwardly sighed, losing more and more hope in this team's stability by the second.

Jake had his hands clasped together in prayer, his husband gripping his shoulder with sympathy. “Please… tell me Blake didn't survive. Please… let that asshole be gone for good. Please… for all that is good in this world-”

The host's smirk grew even smugger, as the other team finally exited the woods. “Say hello to the new Fierce Gophers! Alec became the fifth person voted out of Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!” He proclaimed, as Fiore hung her head and averted her gaze at the reminder.

Jake groaned. “Oh, come on!”

Blake just mimicked his ex-boyfriend's flapping lips with his hand. Will glanced at him with worry, unsure whether pissing the guy off further was a sound idea.

Tom stepped up. “Don't you dare make fun of Jake!” He barked.

The surfer rolled his eyes. “He's the one constantly complaining whenever I survive a ceremony. I wouldn't be poking fun at him if he minded his business,” he stated simply.

Their spat got cut off with several claps from the host. “Now, now — you'll have plenty of time to argue. After all, there will be no challenge today!” He announced.

Crickets chirped.

Everyone exchanged confused or unamused looks. Several seconds passed. Finally, a voice spoke up.

“Then why did you summon us all here today?” Ellie quizzed, deadpanning.

The host tsked, setting his fists against his sides. “Wow, ungrateful much?” He chided. He flung both hands up, now irritated himself. “Fine. I was hoping you'd all express some joy over getting a small break before I divulged the other news. But fine!” He whipped out a scroll. “Take the fucking map to your new campsite. Your next challenge awaits you tomorrow.” Before Ellie could react, it got thrown in her face.

As Brian began stalking away, Alessandro spoke up. “Wait, does this mean-?”

“YES, IT DOES! THE FIERCE GOPHERS AND SAVAGE RACCOONS ARE NO MORE NOW! IT'S NOW EVERY SUCKER FOR THEMSELVES!”

Cheers erupted across the final eleven.

“SHUT UP!”

The campers all stared in shock, as the host stormed off. Ellie narrowed her gaze, getting the map off her face. “Asshole.”

—Confessional :Will—

He sat there, processing the fact he actually made the merge. “Wow…”

—Confessional :Dan—

He stood up, pumping both fists in the air. “Yes! I made it!” He pointed the camera. “To all you assholes. All online haters who kept making memes of me, doubting me, calling me a flop…

Suck it up!”

—Confessional :Jake—

He shrugged, feeling rather awkward over his lack of excitement. “I mean… I did also merge in both my previous seasons.” He grimaced. “To be honest, I wish the merge happened later. Now, I'll have to deal with Blake being on the same campsite as me for however long the bastard lasts.”

—Confessional :Tom—

He sat there, scratching his hair. “Um… sorry if I sound underwhelming, but there isn't really anyone on the Fierce Gophers I was dying to reunite with.” He crossed his arms, face turning stern. “If anything, there are quite a few people I'd rather not be forced to share my living space with. Especially a certain jackass of a surfer. He's going down.”

—Confessional :Blake—

Running a hand through his hair, he shot the camera a smirk. “Look at that. Guess this ‘brain-dead jerk of a surfer’ has made the merge after all…

This is going to be fun~”

—Confessional :Hunter—

Trying to be somewhat optimistic for a moment, he gave a thumbs-up with both hands. “I guess I did make it to merge again, huh?” He chuckled mirthlessly.

Soon, however, this poor facade cracked. He sighed.

“Okay, I can't help but feel burned after everything that's happened…” He shook his head, determination surging through. “But I'm here and still fighting. As is Tess. Ally, I promise you the two of us will give it our all… for you.” He mimed a heart-shape with his hands.

—Confessional :Tess—

“I know most of you watching are probably hoping to see me more determined now that I've merged, especially given I've only made it to this phase of the game once before — and even then, I was the first one out after the teams dissolved.”

She sighed, her expression frank.

“But… the game just isn't my focus. I care more about those close to me. It's just who I am. And with Hunter's current emotional predicament, I can't feel much joy right now…

Ally, if you're watching this, know that we both miss you. I swear I'll do my best to help Hunter, for you.”

—Confessional :Ellie—

She shrugged, though a smirk did cross her lips. “Guess it's nice to make it to this point after failing to do so in All-Stars.” Her expression darkened. “Too bad Dan's made it, too. He's been a real pain in the ass through the whole pre-merge. Hopefully, I'll be able to get the others to vote him out sooner rather than later.”

—Confessional :Grett—

She checked her nails.

“Guess all that worrying was for nothing,” she giggled. “This is the earliest merge I've ever experienced. But still, I'm not complaining about making it a third time.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

She got off her stump. “You really think I'm in the mood for this shit?!” She advanced toward the terrified cameraman. “Get that off my face!”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Heaving a heavy sigh, he smiled with relief. “Thank goodness the teams are done. Being constantly in the minority with no wiggle room was getting overwhelmingly stressful.”

He chuckled fondly. “I bet Dan is thrilled right now.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Alessandro nudged his friend in the shoulder. “So how are you feeling right now, Dan?” He teased.

Half an hour had passed since the merge was announced. And all remaining contestants currently found themselves traversing the woods in search of their new campsite, bringing their belongings along. Both had elected to remain near the end of the pack, with Blake and Will traveling by their side, too.

Dan nodded gleefully. “Is that even a question? I'm feeling great! We're actually here. At the merge. No longer confined to a team where we were outnumbered and at risk of leaving every day because everyone keeps siding with an absolutely awful person…”

“That sounds awful,” Will chimed in, sending the nerd a sympathetic look. He heaved a sigh. “Was Ellie really that unpleasant toward you?” He queried.

“Oh, you have no idea-”

Slowing down, Ellie turned around to face the quartet. “Of course, you can't stop whining about it,” she insulted, drawing everyone else's attention to them. “You're so insufferable, you know that?”

Dan crossed his arms. “That's rich coming from you. Just stick to interacting with your friends, while I stick to mine.”

She tsked, turning her back to them. “Like you have any.”

The nerd balled his fists, catching a certain surfer's eye.

Blake shook his head. “Don't worry, Dan. Hypocrites like her are always screwed in the end. I mean, don't forget how her debut and All-Stars runs ended.”

Alessandro agreed, placing a consoling hand on his friend's shoulder. “He's right. Don't listen to her. It's not like she's Ms. Perfect-Relationship-Management. She's got no right to call others obnoxious after that.”

“It's like if Jake called anyone a whiny brat during All-Stars,” Blake whispered, casually throwing shade at his ex.

—Confessional :Blake—

“Can't help but notice how much Dan and Ellie seem to abhor one another,” he mentioned. “I think I'll keep it in mind. You never know when knowing stuff like that may come in handy in the future.”

—End Confessional—

Several minutes later, they arrived at their new campsite. Both available tents were already pitched.

Blake hastened, passing the others. “This tent looks nice,” he remarked, eyes locking onto one of the tents. “Anyone, aside from Jake or Tom, want to join-?” Before he could even finish asking, Tom shouldered him aside, claiming said tent alongside Jake.

“Anyone other than mediocre surfer over there want to join us?” Tom quizzed the others, eliciting chuckles from his husband.

Folding his arms, Blake rolled his eyes. “Fine, I'll use the other tent. I know your overly-inflated self and your spoiled brat over there need to have the better stuff, because you can't handle not being treated as special goody-two-shoes,” he shaded with a dismissive wave. Standing beside him, Will's face tightened with apprehension.

Tom snarled. “You know, maybe you should sleep on the grass, actually,” he spat.

Blake narrowed his gaze, about to fire back. However, their altercation was interrupted by Alessandro, who seized the surfer's wrist.

“Can we please go a few hours without starting anything?” The model asked them both. “We've just reached the merge, after all. If we don't manage to at least remain somewhat stable, living together for these first couple merge rounds will be a nightmare.” He focused on just the surfer next. “Come on, you can stay in the same tent as Dan and I.”

“Fine…” Blake turned to face Will. The brickhouse had stayed silent for several minutes now. Clearly, this atmosphere perturbed him. “Will, are you coming?” He dismissed the few suspicious looks he drew from most former members of the Savage Raccoons.

Though uneasy, the gentle giant nodded.

Heading over to the couple's tent, Ellie waved to her college buddy. “Hey, Tess, care to join us?” In response, her friend allowed herself to smile, gently holding Hunter by his wrist as they took the invitation.

Observing this, Alessandro addressed another member of the now disbanded Fierce Gophers. “You're welcome to come with us, Fiore. I know some people over at that tent may still be holding grudges.” The surfer went out of his way not to come off as demanding. Even though he hadn't gotten apprised of how Alec's elimination went down yet, the toll it took on the girl was evident.

Fiore glanced toward the other option. She found Hunter already glaring daggers at her again. Tom and Jake didn't seem too welcoming either. Advice she'd received from a particular librarian echoed even more strongly through her mind now. Rolling her eyes, she nodded with a weary sigh.

Once it was settled, Alessandro, Blake, Dan, Will and Fiore all headed over to the remaining tent and began unpacking.

—Confessional :Grett—

She filed her nails, thinking. “You know, with how passive Will was in season 1, I'm rather surprised he's made it this far. But more than that, you'd think he'd naturally gravitate toward Jake and Tom, given their friendship with Ashley.” She set her nail-filer down. “I don't think there's enough of an incentive to look into it right now. It may just make me look suspicious, and I would rather be able to continue coasting for the most part, as I did through the pre-merge.”

—Confessional :Dan—

“I am still overjoyed to have made the merge, for sure,” he reiterated, then crossed his arms, a calculating glint in his orbs. “But I'm not naive. That other team is filled with friends, and very little, if any, conflict. With Jake and Tom's hatred of Blake, and Ellie constantly targeting me, I have enough reason to suspect they will try something sooner rather than later…”

—End Confessional—

___________

The sun dipped into the horizon, as night came. Despite this campsite housing more players than either team had started off with, no one seemed to stay out.

Cut to inside tent number one.

No one there had fallen asleep. In fact, they had just waited long enough for everyone in tent two to presumably slumber.

“I'm guessing you all have an idea as to what I want to propose, so I won't beat around the bush,” Grett eventually kickstarted this discussion. “The six of us all get along at least decently. And I know some of us hold grudges toward the remaining five. How about we work together?”

“I'm in,” Ellie accepted immediately. No way in Hell was she declining the opportunity to have such an easy majority early in the merge. Besides, there was a nerd she couldn't wait to oust.

“I suppose that's not a bad idea. Sounds like a decent enough path to the final six, and doesn't involve foul play,” Tess agreed with a shrug. She cocked her head toward Hunter. “Do you agree, too?”

Hunter gave a desultory thumbs-up, putting on his best fake smile. “Sounds great,” he lied. Inwardly, he couldn't help but recall a surfer's warning. But even he knew voicing such thoughts around this crowd would be a poor move. His acting couldn't fool Tess, of course, and she arched an eyebrow, sensing his doubt.

Fortunately for him, however, she didn't get the opportunity to point those out.

“We're getting Blake out first, right?” Jake insisted. “He's only going to make life at camp more difficult.”

Tom patted his husband's shoulder in agreement. “And the bastard has had it coming since the start.”

Tess shrugged. “His cheating is clearly not a good sign. So, I'm not opposed.”

Though she briefly considered bringing up another possible first target, Ellie ultimately sighed and nodded. “Fine. We can target that surfer first.”

“I personally don't mind either way. So, I guess it's settled,” Grett concluded. “Let's make sure we are the final six.”

She was greeted with nods from everyone else… well, almost. Looking to the side, Tess noted a rather brooding expression plastered across Hunter's face. However, out of respect, she didn't call attention to it.

—Confessional :Hunter—

He frowned. “Sure, that sounds like a great deal. A way straight to the final six.” His countenance grew darker. “But can I really trust the others to follow through?”

—End Confessional—

Unbeknownst to them, a scrawny figure had been lying on the grass right behind their tent. He had listened in on their entire exchange, his fists gradually tightening the further along it went. Those assholes… He had been right to suspect they'd pull something like this.

He waited a few minutes for them to go to sleep. Once he could no longer hear any indication of activity within said tent, he carefully hauled himself afoot, then slunk off to tent two. The other four all awaited him, awake this entire time as planned.

—Confessional :Dan—

He snarled. “I knew those assholes would pull something like this.” He pointed at the camera. “Mark my words. If Ellie thinks she'll get the better of me again, she has another thing coming!”

—End Confessional—

“The other six are all teaming up against us?!” Will panicked. But he remembered the risk getting too loud posed at the moment, so he covered his mouth and bit his tongue.

Blake rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Figures Jake and Tom would come gunning for me.”

Despite not wanting to talk to anyone still, Fiore chimed in. “Well, we can't just be sitting ducks; otherwise, they'll shoot us down, one by one. We have to do something.” She scanned the others. “Any ideas?”

“We can't be too overt, or they'll figure out we know about their alliance,” Alessandro pointed out. “So, we should choose someone who's unlikely to blab to the other five to try and flip.” Assessing all options, it didn't take him too long to settle on one; however, since he didn't know how much Will knew, he waited for the surfer to reach that conclusion as well.

Blake hummed. “How about Hunter? He did see my point when I brought up the fact his physical threat level would paint a target on his back once merge hit.”

Fiore huffed, orbs narrowing bitterly. “Like he'll want to work with us. He hates my guts. He's probably going to pitch me as a target soon,” she pointed out, discreetly shooting Blake a brief glare.

“Oh, trust me. With Ellie there, I'll likely be ganged up on before you — I bet that witch will try gunning for me if Blake isn't an option,” Dan grumbled, drawing a concerned look from Alessandro.

Blake crossed his arms. “Regardless, he's the most likely to flip still. Tess is just a goody-two-shoes. Grett clearly wants to coast via that alliance. Ellie apparently wants to eviscerate Dan, or whatever. And Tom and Jake want my severed head on a platter,” he enumerated.

Fiore groaned. “Fair point. Guess we'll just have to try our best to get his pasty-ass to flip tomorrow, or we're done.”

“Um…” Will stammered. “Does this mean we're… forming an alliance ourselves now?” The brickhouse wasn't too keen on teaming up with Fiore. Though, deep down, it wasn't simply a matter of aversion. He felt… slightly guilty about Alec's elimination, seeing the clear — and, to him, unexpected — impact it had on her.

Blake nudged him mirthlessly. “It's not like we have another choice now, do we? After all, those six are all grouping up. And gunning for the five of us,” he pointed out. “Don't forget, that would include you.”

Gulping, the brickhouse nodded. “I get your point.”

“Good.”

___________

“So, we agree that once Blake is gone, we gun for Dan next, right?” Ellie asked, as she and Jake held baskets for Tom, who had climbed an apple-tree, to drop fruit onto.

With the six now a purportedly robust alliance, Grett had organized another excursion this morning. Of course, her actual motivation for doing so was limiting the amount of time any of them spent around the five outcasts.

Jake shrugged. “I guess I don't see the issue. He's… a lot angrier than last time he competed, that's for sure,” he mused.

“More like a thousand times more annoying, that's what,” Ellie groused, blowing a stray strand away from her eyes. “The sooner he's out, the better I'll feel.”

Grett winced.

—Confessional :Grett—

“I'm not sure whether she's just really gotten that annoyed with Dan, or if it's the growing fame getting to her head, but Ellie may wind up harming her game with that new attitude of hers.”

—End Confessional—

Hunter stood away from the group, seeming immersed in thought. Eventually, Tess approached him.

“Hunter… do you have anything on your mind?” she asked.

Craving his neck forth to look more closely and ensure the rest were distracted, he pointed toward a bush. And the two went behind it for privacy.

He sighed. “I'll be honest. I'm not fully sold on this alliance. It may seem great, but we can't actually trust that they'll keep their word. Remember the argument Blake made? About my threat level? He said-” Seeing her hold up a hand, he halted.

“Why are you fixating so much on what he told you?” Tess questioned. “I… doubt the others would outright deceive us like that.”

Hunter crossed his arms, sizing her up. “I'm sorry, Tess. But we shouldn't be operating based on intuition.” He lightly banged a fist onto an open palm. “We need to remain alert if we want to make it farther in the game like Ally would have wanted us to.”

She arched an eyebrow, both hands on her sides. “I don't think Ally would want you to act this… paranoid.”

Understanding he wasn't getting through to her, he sighed. “Just… please. I obviously won't force you to do things my way if you don't want to. But please, don't inform the others of any of this, okay?”

Although she appeared uncertain, she ultimately nodded with a sigh.

___________

(Merge Camp)

With all others gone, the minority alliance had gathered around the firepit. Blake paced back and forth, the other four sitting on the logs.

“Given Hunter's gone foraging with the others, we'll probably need to wait until after the challenge to try and sway him,” he stated. “So, whoever tries convincing him should know what to do.”

“We need to give him an actual reason to flip on the others,” Alessandro added.

Dan hummed, then snapped his fingers. “He may trust me, given his lack of expectations regarding me,” he pointed out, making sure not to bring up how that had already successfully gotten Alec booted — given Fiore and Will were both present. “I can tell him some stories about how ruthless Ellie can be. That way, he'll know she won't hesitate to get the rest to boot him sooner or later.”

“And we can remind him of how Jake and Ashley booted him in episode 5 of All-Stars, despite the villains alliance being exposed earlier that day,” Alessandro replied with a smile. They exchanged a high-five.

The surfer stopped, smirking. “I like the sound of that.”

Will's orbs flitted between the trio as they plotted. Eventually, he couldn't contain himself anymore. This was all disconcerting. “Aren't you guys going a little far? I mean, I know we're in a bad situation right now. But isn't taking advantage of someone's troubles to get ahead a little… much?”

Beside him, Fiore scoffed. “It's the game, genius. We compete, try winning challenges, strategize and scheme against each other all the time. That's how it is. Also, rich of you to suddenly be all moral like this, when you had no issue getting rid of Alec yesterday,” she scolded.

Flinching, the brickhouse lowered his gaze.

Blake cleared his throat. “What Fiore means is stuff like this is an inherent part of playing the game. It may not be fully honest. But honesty clearly won't let us advance much.”

Will rubbed the back of his head. “I guess…”

—Confessional :Will—

“On one hand, I don't want to start hurting others’ feelings…” He pondered. “But on the other hand, this is my first time in the merge. I don't want anything ruining my chances…”

—End Confessional—

“Attention, final 11! Don your swimsuits or trunks and report to the beach in half an hour! Your first challenge for individual immunity awaits you!” The host's voice resounded across the campsite and woods.

___________

Cut to several shots panning across the sand and placid waters of Camp Tipiskaw's beach.

Eleven contestants marched over to stand before Brian Smith. He looked way calmer than last time, sipping his martini. Savoring the liquid, he let out a satisfied hum. Getting pampered like this sure made putting up with a bunch of annoying brats worth it.

“Let's start off the merge with something relatively simple, shall we?” He gestured toward the lake, where an entire obstacle course had been erected. An enclosure housing three sectors.

“You'll have to navigate your way through…

Climbing walls…

Jumping from thin pole to thin pole…

And swinging by grabbing onto rope-”

Fiore huffed. “Did you really drive that massive boat over there just to have rope hanging off it for that last part?”

Brian's grasp upon his glasses tightened. “Yes, I did. And if you interrupt me that way again, I may also instruct them to cut off the rope if your pathetic self somehow reaches it, preferably just at the right moment so you land on an obstacle instead of the water.”

She recoiled, eyes bulging momentarily.

He took another sip. “That's what I thought.” With the literal ten-year-old put in her place, he resumed his explanation. “At the end of this course, a yellow balloon awaits you. Whoever pops it wins invincibility for tonight!”

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Oh, great. The merge begins, and it's already a challenge way too demanding for someone who's not an adult.”

—Confessional :Will—

Trembling, he stammered. “I… have never gotten over my hydrophobia. The farm is nowhere near any lakes or other bodies of water. So, Ashley has never gotten the opportunity to help me face that fear.”

He embraced himself. Taking a deep breath, he mustered up the will to get something off his chest.

“When I was a kid, my parents used to take me and my siblings out to play on a lake near our home-town every weekend. One time, I… swam too far out, and dove for some reason. I believe I thought I saw something shiny. However, I somehow wedged my foot between two rocks, and couldn't leave.”

For several moments, he hyperventilated. But then, he endeavored to conclude his tale.

“I… was lucky enough to be rescued by my older brother in time, of course.” He sniffled between his next words. “But… do you know how it felt? Being unable to breathe, unable to swim back to the surface. Remaining stuck underwater, running out of air. I swear, my life flashed before my eyes. I… I bid my family farewell in my thoughts… I…”

Tucking his head above his drawn knees, he wept.

—End Confessional—

“Ready? On your marks!” The host declared the race on with a loud whistle.

Charging the lake, it soon became clear who was and wasn't adept at this. Blake, Alessandro, Tom, Hunter and Grett plunged into the water, quickly getting further and further ahead of the rest. Both the surfer and former spy contested the lead, striving to outdo one another.

In the meantime, far behind even the average group, Fiore dove into the water, yet struggled to make much progress at all. Her short stature put her at quite the disadvantage here. Unlike All-Stars episode three, where it was more a matter of underwater exploration, this came down to pure speed and agility.

“Damn it,” she cursed. Big mistake, as it led to her swallowing a mouthful of water. She swiveled back around, and retreated to shore. Screw this. Continued attempts would only leave her worse off. Crawling a yard or so into the sandy grounds, she coughed out her accidental intake. “Is this a fucking joke?” She spat at the host between heavy breaths. “How the hell was I supposed to get through this?!”

Brian shrugged. “Didn't expect you to make the merge, so I didn't put much thought into that,” he admitted.

Gritting her teeth, she flipped him off.

Will stood a few feet away, staring toward the water. His body quaked, finding the mere prospect of wading in terrifying. He balled his fists, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “For Ashley,” he repeated to himself. Summoning all his courage and shutting his eyes, he started quickly toward the watery expanse.

Closing his eyes, however, turned out to be a massive error. Visions from his childhood soon plagued him. Vivid recollections of his panic, as he found himself stuck underwater and unable to swim back up, flashed across his mind — relentless and merciless. He was going to drown… to die alone…

With a yelp, he halted just before he set foot in the water. Panting, he backed away a dozen steps. Shoulders still heaving, he hung his head, ashamed. Despite everything, he wound up freaking out on international television yet again. What a failure… he thought to himself.

—Confessional :Will—

He covered his face, too humiliated to want to be seen. “I'm… I'm so sorry, Ashley…”

—End Confessional—

Attaining the lead over Tom, Blake got to the climbing wall first. He began scaling it effortlessly. He grinned. But not out of smugness. In fact, he almost forgot his rivalry with Tom for a second. The physical exertion, this thrill — it brought him genuine joy…

Until that damn himbo ruined it, seizing his ankle and tugging hard. It nearly worked, but the surfer just barely managed to hold on.

“Let go of my foot!” He barked.

“Like hell I will!” Tom spat back. “You're not getting immunity. You're going home tonight! Just give up!” He tried hurling him off the wall again, but the surfer clung on with all his might.

Amidst this scuffle, Hunter managed to surpass them, surmounting the wall. He stood there, assessing the sector ahead of him — he'd have to hop from pole to pole. One wrong move might mean having to restart the whole thing.

Realizing the former spy had cost him his lead, Blake growled. “This is your final warning. Let go of me!” He hissed, as Alessandro passed them as well, giving him a sympathetic look.

“Shut up!” Tom barked, yanking at his ankle again. This time, the surfer didn't just hold on. Instead, the other foot flew right into the former spy's face, knocking him off as Grett began climbing.

Without dawdling, Blake hauled himself atop the climbing wall. Knowing who needed immunity more, Alessandro moved aside to allow him to go first. Taking just a moment to compose and steady himself, he got started on the poles, desperate to overtake Hunter.

Meanwhile, the others finally caught up to the start of the climbing wall. However, unfortunately for Dan, who was already finding swimming hard, Tom's buff figure plummeted right into him. The impact plunged both deep underwater. And whereas Tom soon resurfaced, the nerd wasn't so fortunate.

Glancing back down and catching sight of this, Alessandro gasped in horror. Immediately, as Jake was checking up on Tom and everyone else seemed to either not notice or perhaps not care about Dan's predicament, the model dove back down, startling many.

Propelling himself further and further down, the model's blurred vision eventually discerned Dan. Unconscious. His glasses floated away from his face. Exerting himself further, Alessandro managed to reach the nerd, wrapping an arm around his waist. Catching the glasses with his free hand, he swam upward at lightning speed, pushing himself to his limits. Moments later, both resurfaced.

Scanning the crowd, Alessandro noticed how, barring a concerned look from Tess, no one appeared to react to Dan's misfortune. All they, especially Jake, mentioned was Blake kicking Tom off the climbing wall.

Exasperated, the model muttered, “Thanks for nothing…” And set off back ashore.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I'm sure Grett is at least self-aware. And Tess at least had the decency to look worried. But the others on that six-person alliance? I bet they all think they're good guys, but they sure don't act like heroes.” He crossed his arms.

—End Confessional—

Once back on solid ground, Alessandro rushed to lay Dan down over the sound. He performed chest compressions on the nerd, carefully not to bruise his body. As he did, he hid his blush to the best of his ability.

Eventually, Dan came to, sputtering out a considerable amount of water. Once he'd emptied his throat, he was wrapped in an embrace from the model. Though taken back, he reciprocated the gesture.

“Thank you…” he mumbled.

A yard or so from them, Will had started hyperventilating. The sight from a few moments ago triggered unpleasant memories of his own. Beside him, Fiore arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Okay… At first, I thought you had just gone back to your full-on scaredy cat days. But now, you look more as though you're facing full-blown trauma. What is up with you?” She questioned, figuring probing into — and potentially making fun of — others’ issues would prevent her from dwelling on her own.

He turned away. “I… I don't want to talk about it…”

___________

Right as Blake got onto the last pole, he saw Hunter grab onto the single rope and swing across the last portion of the course.

“No!” He cried out, dreading the prospect of being at risk tonight. However, the other male wound up overshooting, soaring over the golden balloon, causing a splash several feet away from it.

“And Hunter has completed the obstacle course! But he still needs to burst the balloon in order to win!” The host announced, prompting Hunter to start moving toward said balloon.

But as soon as the role returned to its original spot, Blake didn't hesitate. He leapt forth and swung on it. The surfer couldn't fail — he refused to… Just as Hunter reached a hand out to pop the balloon, he plunged right into it, inadvertently sending Hunter down underwater with him. Resurfacing, neither knew who had popped it, until Brian Smith's voice settled it.

“In a shocking last-second twist, Blake popped the balloon first!” He proclaimed. “With that, he's guaranteed himself a place in the final 10!”

Blake pumped a fist, relief and triumph washing over him. “Yes!” He cheered.

—Confessional :Blake—

He smirked cheekily. “Well, guess Tom's little threat will go nowhere now.”

—Confessional :Jake—

He sighed, scratching his hair. “Guess we'll have to put up with Blake for at least another day or two…”

—Confessional :Tom—

Sullen, he balled his fists. “Damn it!” He hissed.

—Confessional :Ellie—

“That asshole may have won…” She started, before a smirk formed on her countenance. “But it's not like there isn't another nuisance we can dispose of tonight instead.”

—Confessional :Hunter—

Arms crossed, he sat with a frown. “Failing to get immunity sucks, especially with how close I got. But Blake did win it fairly. I'll give him that.” He stared right into the lens. “Besides, with the main target no longer an option for tonight, perhaps I'll be able to see if this alliance really has my and Tess’ best interests in mind…”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Merge Camp)

The blue expanse up above had morphed into a warm orange by now. As the sun sank further and further out of sight, darker blues started overtaking the visage overhead.

“The main target isn't an available option tonight,” Grett commenced with the obvious, as all six members of the majority alliance gathered within their tent. “Guess we'll have to go for our second pick.”

“Tonight will be great,” Ellie remarked.

But then, Hunter raised a hand. “Actually, I think going for Dan tonight isn't the best idea,” he spoke up. “We should go for Fiore. She may not be a physical threat, but she's cunning enough to potentially throw us all off if she's allowed to slip under the radar.”

“I don't think she's that much of a threat without Alec,” Tom responded. “I mean, she's still only ten. Not much she can do when none of us are inclined to flip.”

Ellie nodded, hands pressed to her sides. “Besides, she's nowhere near as insufferable as Dan has been since the season began. We have the majority, so we may as well deal with the nuisances first.”

“I also think Dan should go,” Jake agreed. “He seems to still be holding onto all his grudges over stuff that happened in season 1. He's just… not pleasant to have around.”

When Tess found herself too conflicted to vouch for Hunter, he crossed his arms. “Fine,” he scoffed. “I'm taking a stroll since you four clearly just wanted to tell Tess and I who to vote for.” With that, he left, intending to take a walk to cool off.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Wow. Really? They're targeting Dan just because Ellie thinks he's a nuisance?” He scoffed. “She may be Tess’ friend, but looking in the mirror for once may do her some good.”

—End Confessional—

Right as he was about to evanesce into vegetation, someone approached him.

“Can we discuss the vote for a moment?” They requested.

Gazing their way, Hunter pondered momentarily. But ultimately, he nodded.

___________

Everyone was seated on tree stumps, facing Brian Smith. Votes had been cast. Ellie brimmed with excitement, leering at Dan with a sneer. The nerd glowered right back, masking his anxiety the best he could. Alessandro kept a consoling hand on his shoulder, gazing toward Blake. The surfer smirked, winking.

Noticing this, Jake squinted. “You shouldn't be that smug, you know?” He scolded. “You may be safe tonight, but Tom and I will manage to kick you out eventually.”

Blake rolled his eyes. “You two have no room to talk. I bet you and your alliance believe you've got this whole thing in the bag, don't you?” He derided, not feeling like hiding this awareness of their secret anymore. It was unnecessary.

Several heads turned toward the surfer, eyes wide. Grett stammered, “How… how did you-?”

“You weren't as sneaky as you thought you were, that's what,” Dan cut her off.

Ellie shot him a scowl. “Oh, shut up! You're still going tonight!” She leveled a finger his way. “And I know your ass hasn't found an immunity idol. You're still done tonight.”

“Because, obviously, you had to gun for me yet again tonight, isn't it?” Dan mocked. “Funny how I'm supposedly the one in the wrong, yet you're the one constantly trying to get me voted off at every opportunity.”

Her fists clenched. “Oh, how about you go-!”

The host cleared his throat to halt their spat. “Now, now, if anyone has a totem they wish to use tonight, now is your sole chance to speak up.” Once no one spoke up, an intern marched to his side, bringing a laptop.

Its purpose quickly dawned on Alessandro, piquing his interest. “Is that…?” He trailed off, letting the host answer.

“Why, yes, it is!” He declared. “As an homage to the first ever merge ceremony in Disventure Camp history, we are introducing the very same twist it presented! Better hope none of your secrets are leaked~” He teased.

Hunter's grip upon the edge of his stump tightened, his figure tensing.

“Play the video!” Brian commanded the staff member, who complied — flipping the device open for all to view the footage.

___________

Jake jotted down Dan's name. “Never really got to know you much, but you seem way more bitter than before. And Blake already brings enough trouble to camp.”

“Donna… no… Danna… Oh, wait, Dan…” Tom finally recalled the name, casting his vote.

Grett sighed, writing Dan's name on the parchment. “I wish the Savage Raccoons could have remained united. But Ellie has set clear boundaries, so… I guess this is game over for you…”

Tess penned down Dan's name. “I'm sorry for this, especially what you were put through today. But Ellie clearly wants you gone. I hope you don't hold it against her too much.”

Ellie smirked, showing off her parchment, Dan's name already on it. “It's game over for you tonight. And it's long overdue.” She stated. “But hey, you managed to hold on long enough to at least make the merge this time. Hopefully, if the producers ever make the mistake of letting you return again, you'll have gotten that stick off your ass by then.”

Will scribbled down his vote, inserting it into the urn as soon as he finished. He couldn't allow himself the chance to hesitate. “I'm… I'm so sorry, Jake. I know you and Ashley are good friends, but Blake is right. You and your friends want to gang up on the rest of us.”

Humming, Alessandro inserted Jake's name in the parchment. “Not much against you. This is just what Blake wanted. Even though it's clearly personal on his end, his point about your bonds with Tom and Ellie being stronger than the one both share is valid. Besides, you and the others decided to exclude us all first.”

Fiore scrawled that name onto her sheet as well. “You were annoying the first and second time we competed. This season? I was fortunate enough not to get stuck on the same team as you, unlike in All-Stars. See ya, boy-toy.”

Dan coldly penned a vote against Jake. “I would have preferred gunning for Ellie. But Blake wants you gun, and he has a point about you being an easier sell, given All-Stars. I wish I could say I will miss you, but you, like almost everyone on the Savage Raccoons, just kept siding with Ellie. Farewell.”

Exhaling with satisfaction, Blake showcased his vote against Jake with pride. “To be honest, I almost spared you tonight. Your husband is somehow even more insufferable than you, and I was this close to telling the rest of my alliance to target him instead. But I saw All-Stars, so I know you can somewhat handle being on your own. Your husband? His whole life seems to revolve around you. So, something tells me he may not cope as well.”

Finally, Hunter hesitated for a moment; however, he eventually cast the decisive vote. “I wanted to trust this alliance. But it's clear the four original members of it will prioritize each other over Tess and I. The way you all sided with Ellie, despite my argument, proves that. Besides, Dan was more helpful to me a couple days ago than any of you ever here…”

___________

The device turned off, its display now reflecting all sorts of reactions.

Dan glanced at Ellie. He couldn't stop a smirk from crossing his lips. Her expression? Priceless. She stared on, eyes dilated and mouth agape — as she struggled to process just how spectacularly she and her alliance had fumbled. It delighted him to no end. Next, his orbs flitted to Alessandro, who expelled a greatly relieved puff of air. They exchanged smiles.

Jake slumped his seat, his expression somber. He didn't even flinch once Brian pointed at him.

“In a 6-5 vote, you, Jake Hamilton, are the sixth person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To-”

“HOW COULD YOU?!” Tom roared, springing off his stump, hands curled into compact fists. He glowered toward those six — everyone who had just voted off his beloved. He stormed up to Blake. “YOU BASTARD!”

The surfer shrugged. “You two would have voted for me if I wasn't immune tonight. In fact, you were planning to dispose of the five of us, one by one,” he reminded. “Don't get angry just because we fought back. We never promised to be on your side. Unlike a certain someone…”

Although still enraged, Tom saw his point. Thus, he turned toward the traitor, who shifted in his seat, gaze averted.

“You…”

Taking a deep breath, Hunter stood up. “I didn't know those other five were allied… but I stand by what I said. You, Jake, Grett and Ellie only saw Tess and I as extra votes. Had we gone to the final six together, you would have just ganged up on us.”

Tom started toward him. “I'll show-” But a pair of slim arms held him back. He looked over his shoulder to his husband.

“It's not worth it, Tom,” Jake said. Instantly, all that rage melted into sorrow, tears gathering in the eyes of both men. “Can you… can you walk me out?”

“Y-Yes…”

—Confessional :Blake—

He sighed with great relief, as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Feel that? It's the feeling of one less person constantly on my ass!”

—Confessional :Dan—

“Now Ellie can feel like shit for causing her friend's elimination, all because she just couldn't refrain from targeting me,” he chuckled, getting a taste for this type of gameplay.

—Confessional :Tess—

“I should've stood up for Hunter. I should've called Ellie out.” She shielded her face from view.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Damn it all!” He cursed his poor luck. “I just didn't want to risk getting blindsided by the other four later on! I was so focused on that, I didn't think of how the five would obviously work together due to us excluding them!”

He hung his head, growing dejected.

“I should've notified Tess first… I'm not even sure I want to know what she thinks of me now…”

—End Confessional—

___________

At the bus-stop, Tom and Jake stood. Both downhearted to know they would be parting for however long the former lasted.

“Jake… I can't continue on without you.” Tears welled within Tom's eyes, as he failed to keep it together. “You've always been the one who's gone farther in the game… how will I even-”

His husband hushed him with a loving kiss. Though taken aback, he soon reciprocated, pulling him closer to deepen it. Once the bus arrived, Jake broke the kiss at last.

“Don't sell yourself short. You can do this,” Jake asserted. “I know you can, so get those tears off your eyes, okay?”

Inhaling and exhaling, Tom nodded, wiping his eyes clean. “I'll do my best,” he swore. The two waved back at one another, as Jake boarded the bus.

It drove off. Alone, Tom repeated his husband's parting words. He needed to…

Those words were all that kept him from breaking down…

Chapter Text

Brian Smith stood before the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw… but something was off… The shot was tilted. Fog engulfed anything over two meters or so away from the host, who had a sinister grin on, both hands behind his back.

Static filled the frame, before cutting to footage from last episode. Brian's narration was monotone, lifeless.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…” The moment where the host disbanded the teams was shown. “We put the teams to rest — certainly more of a mercy than our remaining competitors will be given today. Regardless, the final eleven competed in an obstacle course set on Tipiskaw's lake.”

It displayed the scene of Blake diving right into the balloon, just as Hunter reached for it.

“In the end, our resident surfer managed to secure immunity for himself. Due to that, it seemed Dan was done for, as Ellie made him the target, not taking no for an answer. However, her bossiness backfired spectacularly, as it pushed an already conflicted Hunter to flip on their alliance. The nerd was saved, and Jake was sent packing.”

Cut to a close-up of Brian Smith's face, looking even more twisted. His teeth had sharpened, his orbs now yellow, glowing and slitted. His grin stretched to both corners of his face.

“But no need to wonder about our dear final ten's fate. It's set in stone…” His neck and limbs emitted loud cracks and fleshy tearing noises. His mouth opened wider and wider, his voice distorting and booming. “They won't live to see the final nine.”

He lunged forward, drawing a scream from the cameraman.

___________

Rumbling sounded through the night, as tires rolled against tarmac. The bus proceeded down the road, shrinking farther and farther into the distance. Before long, the vehicle was but a mere speck in the distance.

Tom's waving slowed, before he finally lowered his arm. His husband… wasn't in the game anymore. All his promises to protect Jake… had been for nothing. Shoulders slumping, remorse swirling within.

The worst part? He found it somewhat difficult to channel all this negativity into loathing Blake. After all, the surfer had put it into words rather well — they hadn't even tried to hide how they would target him the first chance they got. He merely struck first.

Besides, Hunter also played a part in Jake's elimination by flipping. And yet, his choice, too, arguably came as a result of Tom and Jake pandering to Ellie's desire to target Dan — rather than taking his wishes into account.

Tom rubbed his temples, pondering. Maybe this was — at least partly — his own fault, too. He shouldn't have antagonized Blake so much, especially whenever the surfer wasn't going out of his way to start clashes… No. He refused to accept any blame. Not when that bastard deserved all the pushback he got, and more. And somehow, someway, he would ensure the surfer received everything karma owed him.

Steeling himself for whatever this competition would throw at him next, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Too enervated to travel back to camp right now, he returned to the bonfire ceremony zone. Flames crackled still. Even without someone maintaining it, the fire would likely last for at least another hour. Providing warmth.

Doing his best to ignore that newfound hole in his heart, he lay down on a row of stumps. He dozed off a couple times across the following half hour. Heartache seemed to make it difficult for him to sleep. But eventually, he sank into slumber.

___________

Barring Tom, all contestants headed down the dirtpath that led to camp. A wide range of emotions echoed wordlessly through them. From jubilation to sorrow. Satisfaction and frustration.

Blake lagged behind, ambling as he took the time to savor his victory. Jake was out. He had triumphed over him…

But as quietness prevailed, his conceit and glee started… lessening. It began gradually. First, his elation plateaued. Following that, it started declining bit by bit. He soon felt… rather empty?

—Confessional :Blake—

He shifted awkwardly, puzzled. “It's kind of… strange. When I first managed to eliminate Jake, I was over the moon. But now? I don't know…”

Realizing how doubtful he sounded right now, he vehemently shook his head, tsking.

“Jake's probably just not worth thinking about in any capacity,” he dismissed. Despite his best efforts, uncertainty lingered in his tone.

—End Confessional—

Thanks to how far behind Blake was compared to the rest, he was the only to discern an intern — this one a woman in her late-twenties — standing amidst the vegetation. She beckoned him over.

What was this? Curious, the surfer looked ahead, ensuring no one had taken notice of his absence. With that out of the way, he followed the lady into the woods.

___________

Dan's gait now possessed considerable pride, bordering on smugness. Sure, they hadn't ousted Ellie herself tonight. But they had taken out someone she was close to, so that counted for something. Besides, that asshole no longer found herself in the majority. The alliances were still tied, of course; however, knocking Ellie off her high horse remained exhilarating.

Speaking of the ginger-haired contestants, she had her fists balled, seething. This wasn't how it was meant to go. That annoying, purple-obsessed nerd should have taken the Bus-of-Losers. Instead, not only had the prick evaded eviction, but a close friend and ally had fallen, too. And it was because of a certain someone.

She whipped her head toward Hunter as they walked. Her irritation prevented any sympathy from sprouting, even though the guy's mood appeared just as bad as hers. “Thanks for giving those five more power,” she snarked.

Hunter averted his gaze. “I didn't consider the possibility of those five being an actual alliance-”

“That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” Ellie cut him off.

Tess's eyes flitted between the two of them, her anxiety growing by the second. “I think we should calm down. We can't become divided now; otherwise, things will only get worse,” she cautioned, to no avail.

“There's no use. We already have a traitor, anyway,” Ellie huffed, scorching her head up and shutting her eyes.

Hunter gritted his teeth, aggravated. His sullenness caught a particular model's eye.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He hummed in contemplation. “Hunter seems to clearly regret siding with us at tonight's ceremony now.” He shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try keeping his opinion on us at least neutral.”

—End Confessional—

Quickening his step to travel beside the other man, Alessandro ventured to initiate conversation. “I… appreciate how you voted with us tonight.” Upon eliciting no answer, he continued. “Even though we haven't talked much before, if you'd like someone to talk to, I'd be more than happy to-”

Hunter halted, wheeling around to glower at him. “Shut up. I don't feel like talking to any of you right now,” he cut him off.

The model flinched, orbs drifting aside. “Understood. Sorry for-”

Overflowing with anger and regret, Hunter lashed out, hissing. “I don't want your fake sympathy.” He leveled an accusatory finger at him and Dan, who folded his arms, frowning. “What? You think just because you're attractive, you can sway me into working with your alliance again? You must have only surrounded yourself with simps before coming onto this show. So sorry to burst your bubble, but I doubt you have more going for you than your looks.” With that, he stormed ahead, a concerned Tess hurrying after him.

Alessandro hugged himself. Those remarks regarding his looks hit a sore spot, evoking insecurities that assailed him. Both Will and Fiore hastened. The former out of discomfort from all this tension and animosity, whereas the latter simply didn't feel like partaking in this drama.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ellie sneered at the model. “What? First time you've gotten knocked down a peg? He was simply telling the truth, you know? You're not as smooth a talker as your thirsty fans probably claim you are,” she derided. “I bet if you ever lose those looks, you'll be lonelier than-”

Grett elbowed her friend's side, giving her side-eye. She knew Ellie could get temperamental, but this was too much. They didn't have a guaranteed majority anymore. Thus, wrecking one's own social game was an awful idea.

However, it was too late to avoid confrontation.

Incensed over the insults hurled at his friend, Dan stalked over to their side. “And you aren't as good a player as the fandom paints you as,” he retorted. “You're not even acting like an asshole out of necessity this season. You're just being a massive jerk for no reason.”

“Oh, screw you,” Ellie snarled. “You'll still get what's coming to you!”

Dan chortled derisively, yet brimmed with annoyance. “And what do I have coming, exactly?” He quizzed. “Last time I checked, you're the bitch who's tried voting me off at every ceremony we've attended thus far. In fact, that's what wound up sealing Jake's fate tonight, wasn't it? Had you set aside your compulsion to target me at every opportunity, Hunter wouldn't have flipped on you.”

No answer.

“Yeah, that's what I thought — keep your mouth shut for once.”

Enraged, Ellie stomped away faster. Facepalming, Grett followed.

___________

“So, what did you want me here for?”

Once both had ventured far enough into the woods, they stopped. Blake set both hands on his sides, sizing the intern up. She donned a green blouse and blue jeans. Her mousey hair — the same color as her eyes — was tied in a bun.

“The host told me to give you this as a reward for winning the first post-merge challenge of the season.” She fished out a folded slip from her breast pocket, handing it to the surfer. Right after, she headed off without allowing him the chance to query her over it.

Blake arched an eyebrow, watching her evanesce into greenery. His eyes flicked to his recompense, his mind wondering what could be inscribed within. However, his contemplation was snipped by a yawn that erupted from his throat. He covered his mouth, scanning his surroundings on instinct.

Damn drowsiness setting in… Lacking actual pockets, he stuffed the slip underneath his trunks, ascertaining they were sufficiently tight on him to prevent the paper from easily falling off. He'd just read it tomorrow, he figured.

___________

Before even fully rousing from slumber, Tom could sense something was off. Those stumps he had chosen to rest on? They were coarse and hard. Despite that, he felt something smooth and silky under him. Upon stirring fully and sitting up, the cause was obvious.

He was… back inside his tent? Bewilderment coated his face, as his orbs roved across the interior. All other usual occupants shared the space with him, resting. Had one of them gone back and carried him here? He couldn't pin-point anyone who would go out of their way to do so.

“Um, Tom?” A voice the cop was still not thrilled to hear after last night cut his train of thought. Hunter sat up, rubbing the sleep off his orbs. “Did you come back here while we slept?” His question awoke the others, their focus soon settling on him as well.

Tom folded his arms against his chest, squinting. He knew that, with an opposing alliance of five threatening them, they would need to reconcile soon. But not now. His husband's elimination still stung far too much to let bygones be bygones. Masking his shame, Hunter soon averted his gaze, humphing. Tess set a hand on his shoulder, concerned. How long would this tension last?

“What the hell is going on outside?” Grett remarked. Amidst this fraught quiet, she had made her way toward the opening, peering outside. Being closest to her, Ellie scooted over, gazing outdoors. The sight astounded her just as much.

___________

Blake came to first, stretching lightly. With seemingly no other person awake yet, he groped his trunks just to ensure his slip still rested underneath.

Nothing.

His eyes dilated slightly, as he thrust his hand inside, attempting to feel for it. All in vain. It was gone. He berated himself for not reading it last night. He had lost his reward, without even getting a glimpse of its contents. The possibility of thievery was even worse. Although the surfer had missed his shot to find out, he wagered that slip contained some sort of advantage.

He prayed it wasn't in Tom's possession. Best case scenario? It had been taken by an alliancemate, other than Fiore. It would still suck, but whoever had purloined the advantage would be far less inclined to utilize it against him in that scenario. His eyes roamed over all others within the tent.

Amongst them, Fiore seemed like the most obvious suspect. She really only joined them out of necessity, and likely still resented the surfer over a certain librarian's boot. However, he wasn't sure she would go through it. She was doubtless intelligent enough to understand how many fingers would point her way.

Will? The brickhouse was a total softy. And perhaps the one most emotionally attached to him. Besides, his great stature would have made it that much harder for him to act without waking up anyone else.

Alessandro? A fair bit more plausible. The model, despite ironically refraining from pulling any flashy moves, was no slouch at playing the game. After all, this whole alliance had originated thanks to him. But he also didn't seem the type to stoop to such a level, especially without extreme necessity.

Lastly, Dan…

Blake's gaze lingered on the nerd. The guy clearly had grown a slight edge compared to his attitude throughout season 1. He could apprehend his mindset — being the most forgotten original contestant, paired with how someone who got booted earlier was invited to compete in All-Stars instead of him, sounded awful. The effects were clear, too.

Though Blake remained convinced the culprit was someone outside their group, he couldn't help but feel there might be something more to…

Yawning came, snapping him out of contemplation. Eyes flicking to the source, he saw Alessandro sitting up. The model stretched his arms smoothly, emitting a satisfied hum.

Blake regarded him appreciatively. Although he usually found himself too preoccupied to appraise him, no one — even people who had never met or heard about Alessandro prior — would be able to look at him without instantly realizing they were beholding a model.

“Did you get your beauty sleep?” Blake teased, earning an eye-roll. Pretending nothing was wrong, he tapped Will on the shoulder to wake him. The brickhouse, however, immediately began shivering, orbs switching back and forth between his right and left, attaining his attention. “Um, are you feeling okay, Will?”

“I don't know. It's just… something feels off,” Will replied, as Alessandro awoke Dan. He lowered his gaze. “Like something bad is about to happen…”

“Pretty sure your paranoid ass always feels that way,” Fiore scoffed, woken up by the noise from their exchange. “Anyway, we've just woken up. Unless we're getting thrown into challenges mid-sleep now, I doubt there's a reason to worry.”

This prompted a wince from Dan, who had just shaken off the cobwebs of sleep. “Don't jinx it, please.” He adjusted his glasses. “Anyway, we should go check on the other five. Hopefully, the friction from last night hasn't been solved.” That reminder drew smirks from all but Will, who looked away in slight discomfort.

Just then, they heard multiple people speaking outside. A commotion, it seemed. However, making out any of what was being said was impossible. The hushed whispers, only broken up by the occasional louder, yet still indecipherable voice — it all mingled into a grating cacophony.

Exasperated, Fiore got up and stormed out to see what was going on. “What the hell?” The others heard her let out not even a foot away from their tent. Exchanging quizzical looks, they soon scrabbled out as well.

___________

Had the sky turned red? Or just the clouds?

The answer eluded them. They only knew that crimson hues now dominated up above. And those clouds… their every move was uncanny. Each seemed to almost pulsate. A couple jerks could be spotted amongst this sinister expanse every now and then. In fact, the longer the contestants watched, the more they felt as though they were beholding some unknown organism hanging over them.

“What is that thing?” Blake blurted out.

Tom huffed, shooting the surfer a glare. “That's what we were trying to figure out, genius,” he retorted.

He held up both hands. “Someone's still bitter over last night, huh?” He observed, provoking the other man into stomping toward him.

Alessandro slotted himself in-between them before their altercation could escalate. “Can you two save it for later?” He told them. “We should focus on understanding what's happening.” He cocked his head toward Dan. “Any phenomenon that could explain this?”

The nerd pondered for a couple seconds, stroking his chin in thought. Unfortunately, he shook his head with a sigh. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“So, you're not even useful when it comes to figuring out random shit that only gets mentioned in those obscure encyclopedias you definitely read?” Ellie scoffed snidely. “Why am I not surprised?”

Balling his fists, Dan glowered toward her. “Fine then. Since you think you're so knowledgeable, how about you try and give us an explanation for this nonsense yourself, huh?!” He dared. “Come on!”

“Oh, so now I have to do the one thing you're supposed to be good at? And here I thought you might not be completely useless for a second,” Ellie snarked. “Guess I expected way too much of you.”

Grett dragged a hand down her face. “So much for staying focused,” she muttered.

“Guys, come on,” Tess tried mediating. “We shouldn't be quarreling, especially at a time like this.”

Humphing, Dan whipped around to scowl at her next. “Of course, you only intervene after she gets the last word. Figures.” He thrust an accusatory finger at her. “You may as well drop the neutral act. It's obvious who's side you're on. Your attempt to appear impartial just pisses me off more.”

Before she could even respond, Hunter moved in front of her protectively, staring him down. “Don't talk to her like that,” he snarled, evoking a grateful look from Tess, as she stood behind him.

Though intimidated, Dan didn't back down. If anything, this just incensed him, given how Hunter had snapped at Alessandro last night. “Oh, so just because I told off your friend, you're going to bite my head off? At least I didn't take a jab at anything she might be insecure about, you massive hypocrite!”

A hand on his waist, Blake stifled chuckling. He nudged Alessandro's shoulder. “Sounds like your new love interest is quite determined to defend your honor, prince charming,” he teased.

The model swatted his elbow away. “We're just friends,” he insisted. He glanced away, sorrow tinging his tone somewhat. “Besides… even if I was interested, he's not into romance…”

The surfer's countenance softened. “Oh… um… sorry for that then. I was just messing with you, you know?” He consoled.

“It's fine…”

A loud stomp startled both of them, their heads snapping toward the source.

Hunter had gotten in Dan's face. “I really should have voted you off, you waste of space!” He barked, their noses nearly touching — the nerd flinching at last. By now, Tess’ appreciation had changed into concern again. He seemed just a bit more intense than one would expect.

Blake spoke up. “Cool your jets. You may burst a vessel if you keep getting angrier.”

Without even getting provoked again himself, Tom stamped a foot and stared daggers at the surfer. “Jump off a fucking cliff, you beach whore,” he spat, appalling nearly everyone.

“W-What's wrong with you?” Will stammered, horrified.

Even Blake gaped at him for a couple seconds. However, he quickly recovered, putting on an unfazed expression. “Two things.” He lifted one finger. “I have actually jumped off cliffs before. Sure, those were of a survivable height and had either the ocean or a lake at the bottom, so probably not the kind you had in mind, but still.” He raised another. “Second, even if I was a whore, it just means multiple people find me hot. Meanwhile, what did it take for you to find someone? Oh yeah, one season of getting together and going up in flames, two years of ghosting someone you promised to keep contact with, then another season of insufferable melodrama.”

Tom saw red. However, right as he was about to lunge at the surfer, mighty gales felled them all. Despite their ensuing attempts to get up, the relentless wind proved far too powerful to be bested.

“I-I'm scared…” Will cried out, his voice almost fully drowned out. “What if it's a tornado?! I-I don't want to die yet! Not like this! Not without even getting to bid Ashley farewell one last time!” He hyperventilated.

“Shut up, dumbass!” Fiore demanded, dissembling her own fright. “If it was a tornado, it would suck us in, not pin us against the ground!”

“Well, thanks for making that observation faster than Dan at least!” Ellie congratulated, simultaneously taking another shot at the nerd.

Dan's temper flared again. “Well, at least I didn't burn a friend of mine emotionally to the point they voted me off out of sheer worry that I'd turn into a total monster otherwise!” He shouted.

Ellie sneered. “At least I managed to get invited into that season you're referring to in the first place.”

“At least I-”

“SILENCE!”

Everyone froze upon hearing that booming, merciless voice. It seemed to reverberate across the very fabric of their existence. Existential dread welled up within them.

“YOU HAVE ALL BEEN CONDEMNED! YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES SHALL BEGIN!”

The ground began swallowing them up, their struggle futile.

“AND YOU WILL NEVER WAKE UP…”

The world went dark for them all.

___________

Within a stygian room, Brian Smith stood beside one of his more skilled interns — Jonathan, or John, for short.

John sat before a laptop. Its monitor displayed a software developed in-house to manually adjust virtual reality simulations — such as what they were putting the contestants through. Deep concern permeated his expression, however.

“Um, sir? Are you sure this is a good idea?” He queried. “This may seem thrilling, but the intensity you want here may cross several lines. Please, keep in mind these are real people we are messing with mentally here.”

The host rolled his eyes, unmoved. “Did I ask?”

John stammered. “N-No… but-”

He cut him off. “Then just get to work, before I fire you for questioning me.”

“Y-Yes, sir…” John focused back on his device, coding in whatever the host desired. “Forgive me,” he apologized to the contestants inwardly, before uploading the extra content into the simulation.

___________

Coming to, the first sensation Will perceived was… well, the lack of something essential.

Oxygen. He couldn't breathe. His supply was limited to what his lungs had stored. Since he couldn't replenish what air he retained, it diminished every second.

Unfastening his orbs, all that greeted him was a hazy, azure expanse. He made out a few bubbles, which floated upward, soon evanescing — going somewhere he couldn't see… or reach. Wait… bubbles? His predicament dawned on him at last, as the sensation grew noticeable, every part of his body tingling…

Submerged. Not just that. He was deep underwater — miles deep perhaps.

Immediately, he was all too aware of his situation. Adrenaline shot up. He desperately flailed, squirming and struggling. Somehow, he didn't manage to even move a foot away from his original position. Once he tried kicking, the reason became painfully clear.

His feet… were stuck. Wedged between two rocks. Just like so many years ago. When he was a child. Even now, however, he felt just as helpless. He writhed and contorted — anything to wrench himself free. Nothing worked. He could only float there, gradually running out of air. His lungs contracted, beginning to burn.

This was just like his childhood trauma. But he had been rescued back then, hadn't he? By his family, his loved ones. The same would transpire now, right?

Orbs scorching upward, he managed to distinguish a humanoid shadow. No, two of them. No, three. More and more cropped up. He squinted, their contours sharpening, revealing their identities. His mother, father and many siblings. And Ashley…

He waved wildly, so joyous he didn't mind how much his lungs were aching now. Who cared? His loved ones were there to rescue him! To swoop in, extricate him from his restraints and rush him to the surface. Tell him all would end well…

Except… they didn't respond how he anticipated.

“Useless…”

He froze at the distorted words from his own mother, not questioning how they were even audible.

“What a coward…”

At his father's harsh assessment, he trembled. Why were his parents so mean?

His lungs seemed to throb and sear more with each subsequent cruel, heartless sentence, as his siblings were no kinder.

“Scared of everything…”

“Pathetic disgrace…”

“Waste of oxygen…”

His orbs would have grown watery, were he not already immersed. Barely anything remained within his lungs — it hurt so much. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

He reached out a hand toward Ashley's silhouette. She would come to his aid, right? Even though his family was done being saddled by him, she wouldn't ditch him. She… she had chosen to spend her life with him because she loved him.

She still loved him… right?

…Right?

“I regret ever meeting you…”

___________

Tess opened her eyes, which dilated with shock and trepidation. She staggered backward, tripping and falling into a sitting position, as she stared at what lay ahead.

A striking cliff. No end. Just a void. It reminded her of when her mental-health had sunk to its lowest. Those nights when she would ponder ending it all — they featured this exact sight. In them, she would stand on the edge, arms outstretched, and let the wind tip her over, plummeting toward the unknown. Back then, she yearned to come across it, so she could carry out such fantasies.

But now? No. She had regained her will to live. Loving friends who cared for her dearly. Pulling herself afoot, she knew she needed to get away from that darkness.

Once she turned tail, however, she came face to face with Ally and Hunter. Wait… Ally? Hadn't she been booted long ago? And why did regard her so coldly…

“Where are you going?” Hunter demanded harshly. “You're not backing out now, are you? Haven't you burdened everyone enough?”

Tess’ mouth fell open. She could barely comprehend his words. Had he… called her a burden? But… why would he-?

“Hunter's right,” Ally sneered. Her face lacked any of the kindness she had always shown her best friend. “I'm sick and tired of pretending I give a single shit about you just so people don't hate me even more!”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “What… you… only pretended to like me?” Her voice came out meek, filled with heartbreak.

Hunter chortled, shoving her down. “Did you seriously believe anyone could ever care for a liability such as you? Get real!” His words pierced her crumbling heart. He mockingly replicated her voice. “I'm so depressed and profound! Feel sympathy for me!”

Ally followed suit. “Let me just make everyone else's lives even worse, then expect them to feel for me just because I'm too pathetic to be worth a single ounce of oxygen.” She cackled.

Tess hugged herself, bewilderment and distress whirling inside her. “Please… stop…” She whimpered. How could those she trusted betray her like this? And why?

They cooed derisively.

“You can end the pain very easily, you know?” Hunter drawled, gesturing toward the edge.

“Simply leap off,” Ally continued. “You will be neither in pain nor a pain to all of us. Everyone wins.”

“Do it…”

That ghostly echo petrified Tess, who shakily looked over her shoulder. An apparition of her parents hovered behind her, their faces tightened with hatred. They loathed her, clearly.

“Rectify the mistake that was your birth…”
“End your parasitic existence…”

Hunter and Ally joined, all four voices chanting.

“Jump…”
“Do it…”
“Do it, you pathetic excuse of a person…”
“Do it…”

Tess scanned her surroundings, beholding a whole crowd of people in her life that had appeared while she wasn't looking. None of them regarded her with empathy or care. Only hatred, malice and disgust — those emotions oozing from their sneers, grimaces, frowns and snarls.

She shut her eyes, clutching her head with both hands. She began backing away, inching closer to the edge, too distraught and terrified to realize it. Tears streamed down her face.

“We do not want you…”
“Go away…”
“Never return…”
“Do everyone a favor…”
“And jump…”

___________

Tom rubbed his bleary eyes until they refocused. Confusion deluged his mind at the sight before him. He was… back in town? The one he and Jake had settled down in, to be precise. The same row of houses lined either side of the thoroughfare. Same view, same people, same cozy atmosphere…

Only… that warmth. He couldn't feel it anymore. Instead, an unsettling chill pervaded the air. Oppressive and frigid. He looked around, before his eyes landed on a familiar face. Aiden. Grinning goofily, he approached his scrawny buddy, expecting a good-natured interaction.

“Hey there, Aiden,” Tom greeted with a wave. “Where did the time go?” He went to rest a hand on his shoulder, only for it to be smacked away. Flinching, he held his struck hand, glancing at the other, puzzled. “Aiden?”

Aiden regarded him with contempt. “Keep your hands off me, you scarred freak!” He barked, stalking off.

Shocked, Tom clutched his chest, his cheerfulness withered. Scarred freak? That… that certainly roused some insecurities he had fought hard to overcome. He shook his head vehemently, not wanting to regress. But as his orbs explored his surroundings, he noted the numerous leers of revulsion. Arms wrapped around himself, he hung his head and forged on down the sidewalk.

The people around him grew harsher, however. Parents screened their children's eyes, telling them not to look, as though he were a scandalous spectacle. Others laughed, pointing his way. Why? Why were they doing this? He thought they accepted him…

Splat

He recoiled, looking down and finding a stain on his uniform. A snicker diverted his attention over to a young-adult holding a beverage, the nasty smirk, combined with the agitated liquid that filled only half the glass, left little ambiguity.

“What's wrong with you?” Tom raised his voice, though his disbelief still outweighed his anger. The bastard didn't even feign remorse, simply spitting at the ground in front of him and strutting off. No one spared him even an ounce of sympathy. A few even chortled at his mistreatment, further discomfitting him.

Where had the mostly friendly neighborhood he and Jake lived in gone?

As though fate was waiting for the most immaculate moment, Tom passed by where his and Jake's home lay. The sight befuddled him. Their house… had vanished, leaving nothing but a bare lot. He cupped both hands over his mouth, stepping back from sheer shock.

Another callous passerby shouldered Tom aside, glancing back at him to grin contemptuously. “Why are you so shocked he left you? The only surprise is the fact he even married you to begin with!” They proceeded down the street before he could question them.

Left him?!

No… it couldn't be…

Shaking his head, he resumed his aimless journey. Pieces of garbage started getting flung in his direction, causing him to break into a run. Despite covering his ears, their mockery was inescapable.

“Freak!”
“Beast!”
“Abomination!”

Each term chipped away at his hard-earned confidence. Soon enough, he shut his eyes, wanting his old spy garb back — so no one would see his scars, so this miserable treatment would cease. He wanted Jake. Longed for his company. That random person had lied, right? His husband would always love him…

Right?

Due to his current lack of sight and attention, he tripped, faceplanting onto concrete. He got up, reluctantly opening his eyes. A dingy alleyway greeted him. Proceeding onward, he eventually encountered a familiar figure, their back turned to him.

Jake.

Relief washed over Tom. His husband was there. He wouldn't ditch him, regardless of what the rest had done. He could always count on him.

Tom rushed forward, eager to reunite with his beloved. He reached a hand toward Jake's shoulder. “I'm so happy to see you, Jake! Everyone else has turned on me out of nowhere, but I know I can only rely on-!”

Smack

Tom froze at the sting that ran over his left cheek, retracting his hand so as to rub it, his mind short-circuiting. His focus gradually returned to Jake, who had whipped around to shoot him a glower. The slim man's raised hand dispelled any confusion as to what just transpired.

Jake… had struck him. And that repulsed countenance. It showed no signs of regret over this misdeed.

Tom's orbs watered. “W-why…?”

“I don't need you anymore.” Those words pierced his heart like daggers. “I only ever dated you because my low self-esteem back then left me with zero alternatives. Now that I'm back to normal? I never want to be seen with a creature as disgusting as you again…

I have someone better now…”

“W-what do you… m-mean?” Tom sniffled.

From the murk, a figure emerged. There was no way to overlook that built physique, or the Hawaiian shirt, or the orange trunks with yellow stripes.

Blake. However, the surfer had no nose, no eyebrows, no eyes… The only facial feature he retained was a pair of lips.

Tom's fists balled at his presence. But horror soon flooded him again, as Jake walked into the surfer's arms, which wrapped around himself. Jake gazed up at Blake, paying no regard to Tom now. Both paused for several moments, as though to allow the helpless observer more time to suffer, before pressing their lips together in a deep kiss.

“No…” Tom's voice came out light initially. As his warning went unneeded, however, its volume rose with horror and hints of rage. “Stop it!”

The two only grew increasingly passionate, taunting him.

He balled his fists, shouting.

“I said stop!”

“STOP!”

___________

Coming to, Hunter found himself on a lawn. And it wasn't a random one. He recognized it all too well. Staring ahead, his suspicions were confirmed.

In front of him, stood his and Ally's habitation.

Perplexed, he eventually elected to head inside to try and assess his situation.

As soon as he reached the top, the front door swung open. Startled, he couldn't move away in time. Someone charged forth. They rammed into him, sending him reeling down the steps. He fell onto the ground with a grunt. Groaning, he tilted his head upward to get a look at his attacker.

He was faced with a scowl from none other than Ally. She glared down at him, hands on her hips and hatred in her eyes. He opened his mouth to ask why she pushed him. But she raised her foot, preemptively interrupted him by slamming it into his chest. He grunted from the unexpected pang.

“What the hell are you doing here, you pasty pig?!” She spat. “When I kicked your ass out, didn't I tell you to never show your face around here again?! You think I want anything to do with a self-serving asshole like you?!” Her words stupefied him, digging her shoe further in, applying more pressure to his chest.

He gasped painfully. “What are you talking about-” His question got cut off as Ally suddenly lifted her leg again, only to deliver a kick to his temple. His vision went dark.

An undetermined amount of time later, Hunter roused. Their residence had disappeared, along with Ally.

He breathed shakily, his mind struggling to process everything. Once all that occurred registered properly, it felt similar to a tsunami crashing down upon him. He rolled onto his side, face buried in his hands. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

A short clatter diverted his attention. Glancing over, he saw his phone on the floor, already on and displaying his contact list. Ally's number was gone, leaving Tess’ at the top. Quivering, he grasped the device, making the call and bringing it to his ear as he waited.

Eventually, Tess picked up.

“T-Tess? I-I need your help…” Hunter whimpered. “Ally… s-she hates me now. And she's gone, a-and the house disappeared too! I-I don't know what happened, or what to do! Please-”

A long, weary sigh came from the other end, hushing him.

“What do you want me to say, Hunter?” Tess questioned, her calming tone brimming with displeasure. “You can only blame yourself. We tried to be considerate, but you alienated us so many times by solely caring about your own opinions, desires and urges. I wish I could say I feel sorry, but to be honest? I cannot. Farewell.”

“W-what? Tess, please, wait…” He trailed off once she hung up, feeling even worse. Curling up, he wondered what had gone wrong. Why both had turned against him so swiftly.

It must have been because he didn't heed Tess’ concerns. Because he took Blake up on his offer.

Blake… That bastard…

Absolute rage surged through him.

___________

Ellie awoke with a jolt, shaken by booming rumbling. Her orbs roved across the landscape. A… landfill? How did she wind up here? Why was she brought here?

Thud

The tremendous boom startled her off rumination. A heap of discarded material was dumped less than a dozen feet from her, bits of getting scattered outward from the impact. Due to the proximity, she was showered with some.

Recoiling, she removed a dirty paper slip off her face with a scowl. “What the hell?! Watch where you're…” She trailed off, eyeing the small sheet, she discerned a sketch. A fashion design.

One she had drawn…

Had she or Gabby tossed it into the trash by mistake? Aside from the stains and dirt — both of which could have only appeared after it got thrown away — it didn't show any glaring flaw that would lead to her disposing of it. Gabby, despite her intense, energetic nature, knew how important these were — she would never be careless enough to consign them to the bin, either.

Something urged her to inspect the pile lying before her. Pushing past some reluctance, she inched closer to it. Squinting for a second, her eyes soon bulged with disbelief. She jerked away, taken aback.

“W-What kind of bastard would do this?” She exclaimed. This ‘garbage’... it belonged to her — every inch of it. Her sketches — the product of many sleepless nights, blood, sweat and tears — fronted her, now a heap of clutter.

She balled her fists. Spotting the vehicle returning to jettison another mound of her hard work, she had enough. Taking a rock from the ground, she hurled right into the window, shattering it. The garbage truck halted, giving her the opening to accost its driver.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” She demanded, pointing at the door, which soon opened. Upon seeing the person that hopped off, however, she stopped, her arm falling slack against her side. Utter bewilderment and terror flooded her. “G-Gabby?”

“Of course, you care more about your sketches than you ever did about me!” Gabby accused, advancing toward her. “You didn't bother telling me the truth about the Villains Alliance in All-Stars, but it's the end of the world when your designs get discarded! Just more proof that you only care about yourself!”

Frightened, Ellie held both hands up apologetically. “G-Gabby, please… I'm sorry for what happened back then. I just wanted to get us out of poverty, no matter what, and-”

“You only wanted to make your own life better!” Gabby interrupted, getting in her face. “You couldn't even give an immediate answer back when Tess asked you whether you would choose me or three million dollars!”

Tearing up, Ellie hung her head, clutching her elbow. “Please… Gabby… I love you-” Suddenly, she got shoved from behind. Her girlfriend stepped aside, letting her flop to the dirt. Raising her head with a groan, she looked up over her shoulder.

Tom and Jake stood there, arms crossed and glares merciless.

“Monster!”
“Manipulator!”

They awaited Gabby's command.

The Polish woman didn't dawdle. “Let's teach her ass a lesson.” With sinister grins, the trio seized Ellie's ankles and wrists. Lifting her up, they began carrying her toward her demise.

What they had in store for her made her thrash madly, but to no avail. “No, no! Let go! NOT THAT!”

A pond… with fins occasionally rising to the surface before sinking back down.

___________

Once Grett regained consciousness, she stood in a nondescript street.

“How did I get here?” She mused, surveying her surroundings. However, a particular pair soon came into view, drawing her attention.

Ellie and Gabby. Wait, how was the latter here? She had given up her spot in the season…

Disregarding that, Grett walked toward them. “Hey there, do you know where we are?” She greeted. No answer. The couple stared past her, as though she didn't exist. “Um… Gabby? Ellie? Hello?” They passed her, no sign of acknowledgement. Anxiety began building up, but she masked it with exasperation, rushing over and blocking their way. “Seriously, this isn't funny! What's up with the both of you-?”

The duo phased through Grett, proceeding normally. She was left astounded. What the hell? Had they just gone through her? Like, literally? As though she didn't… She suppressed that petrifying possibility. It couldn't be. She refused to consider it.

Other contestants — both current and from past seasons — emerged, heading in the same direction as Ellie and Gabby. Whatever it was, they all moved toward the same destination. Grett called to each, waved and shouted. Nothing. Upon seeing Yul, she even tried kneeling him in the nuts. No attack landed. She lacked the ability to physically affect others.

Attempting to ignore the increasingly prominent implications, Grett sighed, hugging herself as the last of the crowd walked past without even glancing her way. Only one thing she could do, it seemed. Thus, she trailed behind them, hoping wherever they went would somehow provide her an explanation.

She would soon regret her decision…

Mere minutes later, she found everyone congregating around none other than her brother. The one her parents always preferred to her. The one they lavished with presents, praise and respect every day, while barely acknowledging her…

The one now getting that same level of adoration from everyone, whereas her presence was no longer acknowledged by anyone…

Each compliment and longing stare from that audience seemed to make the man grow.

To Grett's horror, the opposite was also true for her. As she was disregarded and unacknowledged, her form shrank and turned transparent. Fading away… ever so slowly…

“No! Someone, help!” She cried out, her vision blurring as her eyes weren't spared from this horrifying process. “Please!”

No one even looked her way…

___________

“Get that demon child! Cleanse the world of that foul brat!”

Their howls echoed behind Fiore as she ran.

She didn't know how or why she had appeared here. In this surreal plane, where consistency was a foreign term. Things shrank and elongated arbitrarily — widening and narrowing without reason or pattern. Who cared, anyway? All she knew was that she had to run.

Those jerks were pursuing her. And if their unhinged statements were any indication, they did so with violent intent. What was their problem?

“Get back here, demon!”
“You should never have been born!”

Her expression tightened. Oh, so now the two assholes who brought her into this world had the gall to complain about her. What a bunch of-

A rock conked her, making her yelp. It stung a lot. That stone… it had been heated to scalding levels. The skin it had touched now seared. Her eyes watered, but she shut them and didn't show down; otherwise, she would be doomed!

Due to not watching where she went, however, she wound up bumping into someone. The impact knocked her back onto the uneven, rippling ground. She opened her eyes to Alec standing over her, arms crossed.

She tugged at his trousers. “You've got to help me! The others have all gone insane and are chasing me! It's like they want to kill me!”

Regarding her frigidly, he humphed. “Can you blame them?” His scathing retort prompted her to flinch back, eyes widening.

“What the hell do you mean-”

“Your parents were always right,” Alec cut her off. “You really are a mistake…” A wall plummeted from up above, landing between the two — cutting Fiore off from both the librarian and a way forward.

Fiore's fists banged on the unknown material, but it was futile. A dead end.

“You have nowhere to run now, demon!”

Before Fiore could even turn around, several cruel hands seized both her arms, yanking her backward. She was thrown onto the ground, ringed by many hateful faces.

“Let go of me, you jerks-” She was cut off by Ashley, who pinned her down. The cowgirl pulled out thread and a needle, pinching Fiore's lips together. And ruthlessly began sewing her mouth shut.

___________

John watched the gruesome procedure unfold through his laptop screen. His stomach churned. Even though it wasn't real, it sickened him to no end. He had kids of his own, so knowing he was causing someone their age this much suffering weighed on his conscience so much…

“Keep programming. There's still another three scenarios for you to insert after this one,” the host chided from his side. “I'm not paying you to sit on your ass, you hear?!”

-You literally tricked me into signing up to work here for less than minimum wage- Jonathan thought bitterly. -And you use overly restrictive contracts and threats to keep me here. Why is it so difficult for you to wait a damn second or have some simple restraint?!-

The intern held his tongue, of course. Camp Tipiskaw was rather far from civilization, and the host had conveniently extended the confiscation of communication devices to staff as well this season. He could only assume the lower-budget nature of this spin-off led to it not getting much, if any, supervision from the network itself — sort of like season one of the main show.

As Jonathan coded to conjure up more messed up situations, his only option was to pray justice would eventually be served this time as well.

___________

A guillotine materialized near the now mute, writhing Fiore. With aid from the young girl's own biological parents, Ashley dragged her over to it, sticking her head and hands into the pillory.

Fiore wriggled, trying desperately to free herself. But to no avail.

With one last frigid look, her own biological father released the blade.

It plummeted toward her neck…

___________

Someone not quite as young, but still only 19 years-old, traversed the streets of his hometown. His clothing choices and overall physique were rather average, but his potential shone through. His unblemished, tender skin. His soft, wavy, light-brown hair. His grayish-green orbs that many friends, acquaintances and relatives alike complimented.

Hugging himself, he found himself going through some introspection. Days ago, an agent from the modeling field had come to their small-town. Given how impressionable young-adults were in general — doubly so around these parts, as many craved to ditch this dull, repetitive existence in pursuit of greater opportunities — they faced no difficulties setting up an event to scout for figures that showed true promise.

Amongst countless excited people his age who had signed up completely of their own volition, he might have been the sole participant who needed to be slightly pressured into partaking. It wasn't as though he hated it. He wanted to be an actor, and modeling was far from the worst path to take.

But still, opening himself to be judged? It unsettled him. And what would happen in the unlikely event he was selected? What would it entail? While nervously presenting himself, he thought he wouldn't need to find out. After all, no way would he be picked, right?

A few days later, however, a knock on the front door would shatter that notion. Once his parents answered it, they found the agent, who asked to speak with their son.

Disbelief had left him almost catatonic, as he was told he had potential for a prosperous career. Said agent had recommended relocating somewhere more modern — one of those larger cities that he always pictured as rather claustrophobic. Navigating through thousands of bustling people sounded nightmarish to him. The thought of potentially being crowded by so many people one day? It… frightened him.

“But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“You are lucky to even have the shot at pursuing something that's at least adjacent to that acting dream of yours! Not to mention how it could allow you to accomplish that!”

“You can't just throw it away. If you do, you'll have squandered so much…”

Reactions he had received upon expressing his doubts kept ringing in his ears. Their logic computed, sure. And he did know this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to lose. But still… he just… wished he could have had the chance to secure his footing first.

Ultimately, of course, he had read the contract and agreed to its terms — his anxiety had made him peruse its pages, and there wasn't anything fishy about it, to be fair. The issue was never the person leading him into this world. But what said world housed. In a few days, he would be bidding his hometown farewell and venturing into the big world.

It made him nervous…

Amidst his self-reflection, he didn't watch his surroundings. Thus, he was snapped out of it suddenly, as he bumped into a figure.

Cheeks reddening, he averted his gaze without checking who he was addressing. “I-I'm so sorry. I was distracted and didn't watch where I was going. I didn't mean to bump into…” He trailed off upon realizing he'd gotten no response. Sensing something off, he finally looked at who — or rather, what — he collided with.

A mannequin. Unadorned, blank and lifeless… standing in the middle of the street.

“What…” He mumbled, disconcerted. Backing away, his back hit another figure. Another mannequin. His breathing quickened. He hastened away. What was going on? Who had placed those there? How hadn't he heard any footsteps, despite one getting put right behind him? His ruminations were interrupted as he came face to face with another mannequin.

And another. Mannequins materialized at a faster rate every second.

He broke into a desperate run, his heart pounding. He wanted his mother, his father. Someone. Anyone. Any help would suffice. He couldn't take it. What would become of him in the end? Too wrapped up in his ponderation, he ran right into a mannequin. Before he could pull away, its arms coiled around him robotically.

“I don't want to, please. I need more time!” He shook his head frantically, orbs watering. Yet, his pleas went unheard. More of them crowded him, consuming him in a mountain of adoration he hadn't been prepared to handle. It felt so suffocating. Too fast.

And he morphed swiftly, too.

Alessandro broke free from their grasp, flopping onto the floor ahead. He began crawling away, feeling the rugged floor scrape against him, yet leaving no blemish. This was the life he had let himself be pulled into, after all. Leaving wasn't an option now, no matter the harmful things he once considered doing to escape this.

And so, he was soon dragged back into what he could not evade.

___________

Coming to, Dan found himself within a stygian void.

“What… is this place?” He wondered aloud, examining the encompassing murk. He set off in search of someone, yet his walk was oddly short, as he happened upon someone familiar.

Alessandro. The model loitered before him, looking as good as always.

“Alessandro? W-Where are we?” Dan inquired.

No response.

“Alessandro?”

Before he knew it, they were engirded by several other contestants. None of them acknowledged the nerd, no matter how loud his shouting got. Adrenaline pumped through his veins faster and faster. He couldn't be back to square one! Not after all that had transpired!

“WHY ARE YOU ALL IGNORING ME!” Dan snapped.

“Because you do not exist…”

A deep voice boomed from no discernible source, startling Dan. Before he could react, however, his orbs flitted down as sudden numbness began spreading from his fingers and toes… His hands commenced to disappear.

“N-no…” He let out. The erasure spread gradually up his upper and lower limbs. “Stop it! I am someone!” He hollered. “I do exist!”

Even his plight didn't draw anyone's attention. They all dismissed his now dwindling presence. Was this really it? His feet and hands vanished completely, thus he fell onto the ground, unable to move. His vision worsened as this curse reached his orbs.

Regret inundated him. He should have done something, anything! He should have seized this shot at fixing his reputation within the fandom. Instead, he would literally fade away.

Eventually, he submitted to his fate, holding a little more than mere regret in his heart.

___________

“Did you really think I wouldn't find out you're a-”

Another young man, only 19 years of age, winced at the slur this burly man shouted in his face. Mere minutes had passed since he reached his bedroom, only to get confronted by his father. The enraged man towered over him, fists balled and face contorted with contempt — every fibre brimming with hatred, lacking an ounce of mercy.

Despite being a surfer, the younger male hadn't gained much muscle yet. He was helpless, horrified and… bewildered. How did his father discover his relationship? All his efforts to keep it under wraps — what ruined it? What had-

SMACK

He cried out, thudding down. His cheek stung now. His father towered over his downed figure, itching to strike him again.

“Aw, are you gonna cry? Guess that's what the filthy relationship you got into did to you. Pathetic…”

He crawled over to his bedroom window, trembling with terror. This ordeal would last for much, much longer, he knew. Pressing against the wall, he shakily hauled himself afoot, bracing his abdomen against the stone sill.

“Don't bother hoping anyone will help you. Your, ugh, boyfriend already sold you out. Didn't even need to make more than one or two threats.”

Disbelief flooded him. However, that unfair truth was confirmed once he gazed out the window, spotting a blue-haired guy cowering outside. What? But he had warned him they couldn't hang out today, given the possibility of his father returning from the bar earlier! This had caused an argument, but he thought his boyfriend would know better than to risk subjecting him to his father's wrath.

He… he would at least try and help, right?

Right?

He opened the window, shouting out. “Do something!” He pleaded. “You're not just going to abandon me after screwing me over, right?!”

Standing upright, the other averted his gaze, quaking.

“W-what are you waiting for-?!” He cried, only for his father to stalk over and tug him back by the hair. Still, he managed to just barely catch his boyfriend scampering off. “Where are you going? Help me! Jake? JAKE?!”

CRACK

Pain exploded across his face, his nose bending out of shape from the impact of his father's ruthless fist. The man hurled him onto the closet, its doors breaking when he crashed into them. Splinters pierced his skin.

“YOU LIVE UNDER MY ROOF, YOU SHOULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY RULES! NOW ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT!”

The man grabbed his hair, tossing him forward onto linoleum. Then delivered a kick to his side.

“UNDERSTOOD?!”

Curling, he wept. It had all spiraled out of control, through no fault of his own. How could Jake be this inconsiderate?! And just desert him right after?! This was hell… This… Wait, this had already happened years ago! This revelation prompted his eyes to snap open, his terror receding.

“I ASKED YOU IF YOU UNDERSTOOD!”

The cruel man brought his foot down toward him, but he seized it by the ankle with regained strength. Meeting the man's hateful face with a glare, he tugged on his leg, knocking the bastard down.

“I'm not your little bitch anymore!” He barked, his form reverting back to its true, current state. “If you think you can still control me, you have another thing coming!” Blake asserted, glowering down toward his horrid father.

The wretched man reached a hand toward his ankle, attempting to pull him down to regain control. Seeing this coming, the surfer stamped said hand down with his foot. He was never letting this bastard harm him again. Even if someone he had trusted had left him to suffer, he wouldn't allow it anymore.

Recognizing his own defeat, the replicated father sneered.

“Isn't that adorable? You may no longer be under my thumb, but that's not needed anymore. You've grown to be just like me. You'll never escape my influence!”

Blake snarled, unable to refute it initially. His own trauma had led him to hurt others many, many times. He wished he had stood up to his father this way on the night this happened. That he didn't just take an entire amount of abuse. In the end, this old bastard threw him out, anyways. He would've been left to fend for himself either way. But his heart wouldn't have become so embittered.

Remorse filled him. Perhaps this hypothetical, less damaged version of himself could have opted to break up with Jake normally. Instead of pretending to forgive him, only to grow passive-aggressive, and eventually cheat on him as revenge. He couldn't deny he burned many bridges unnecessarily, because he himself was hurting.

“See? You know I'm right…”

His father's ragged, contemptible chortle made his fists ball tightly. No… The surfer refused to allow himself to become like his father. Even if he had already come close, he could change it.

“Quiet,” Blake shut him down. “I admit, I've been an asshole. But I sure as hell won't let myself become like you!” He walked through his former bedroom door, starting down the dusky corridor.

“And who will help you not cross that line? You surfer friends? They're all douchebags who wouldn't mind either way. Who are you counting on?”

He stopped, inhaling deeply. That wasn't wrong. Friends such as those he frequently surfed with wouldn't really care to curb his worse tendencies whenever they crop up. However, he had met a certain duo — or perhaps trio — he might be able to rely on.

“I can think of a few people, but that's not your concern.” Uttering those words, he descended the stairs. Looking back not even once, he headed to the foyer, opened the door and departed. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else yet, he began rethinking his prior deeds.

Blinding white light engulfed him before he could ponder too much, however.

___________

Now the size of an ant, Grett cowered. Her brother, who had grown into a giant, raised his foot with a menacing grin, intent on stomping her out. She couldn't believe this was how it would end. Why was everyone hailing her brother? Why did they all start ignoring her?

“Oh, you're so great,” Riya praised, groveling at his feet.

“And hot,” Yul added.

“Wait a fucking minute,” Grett blurted out. “In what world would those two egotistical assholes ever say or act that way…” Realization came swiftly from there. “Actually, why the hell is everyone praising my brother when none of them have ever even met his stupid ass.”

In the blink of an eye, she was back to her real size. Tilting her head up to lock eyes with the giant, she narrowed hers.

“You're not some supreme being, you know? I hesitate to even consider you above average,” she scoffed. “Like that time you wet the bed at 18!”

The flustered giant's size went down considerably. And Grett didn't allow him to argue back, proceeding.

“Or that time you cost the family 1000 dollars because some gold-digger got you to donate to her!”

Her brother was back to his normal height, yet she kept going.

“Or how about that time you got recorded hitting a light-pole while bragging like an idiot?!”

Soon enough, the man had been reduced to an ant himself. Towering proudly over him, Grett smirked, raising her heel.

“Nice attempt to fool me, but I know I'm way better than you. Even if our parents never saw it, my worth is clear!”

Squash

“This bullshit is nothing but an illusion!” Grett proclaimed.

Everyone else began convulsing, their eyes rolling onto the back of their skulls. Their mouths stretched wider and wider open, white voids swirling within. Before Grett could react, they exploded into blinding light that enveloped her.

___________

“Nothing but an illusion!” The faint echo reached Ellie's ears, as the trio began swaying her in preparation to hurl her onto the shark-infested pond.

Her terror was washed away by realization.

“None of this makes any sense!” She declared, freezing the three. “First, how the hell would you manage to gather all my stuff without me noticing first? How would you get access to a dump truck?”

“Shut up!” Tom tried diverting her focus away from critical thinking. “That doesn't matter! All that matters is we’re throwing you to the sharks!”

With an eye-roll, she scoffed. “What kind of landfill would be set up near a pond? And how would sharks be there?”

“I put them there-” Gabby insisted futilely.

Ellie cut her off with a scowl. “And Gabby would never turn on me like this!” Spasms racked Gabby immediately, and she collapsed into a jerky heap. Her legs now free, the gingerhead took advantage of the remaining duo's shock to tear her wrists free from them. “In fact, you two wouldn't react this way either, not even at your angriest!”

Two extra thuds sounded, as Tom and Jake devolved into a similar state to Gabby.

Ellie stood over them fiercely, hands bunched tightly against her sides. “You three are nothing but fakers!” She declared, only to recoil as they detonated into blinding light that enshrouded everything.

___________

“...nothing but fakers!”

Although barely audible, those three words stuck to Tess' mind, her eyes opening wide.

Ally snarled. “What are you waiting for, bitch?!”

Hunter glowered, too. “Yeah, just jump off alright. No one deserves to be burdened by you any longer!”

Tess narrowed her orbs, fists curling. “None of you are real…” She muttered. Her mind, previously clouded with despair, terror and sorrow, cleared in the blink of an eye. Sense returned to her. Why would her friends, who had supported her through so much, suddenly want her dead? Simple, they wouldn't. Not now. Not ever.

The false ghosts of her parents came right in her face, attempting to reassert control.

“Do not try to delude yourself.”
“Lies will not give you any worth. You have none.”

Though unnerved by this mockery of her parents, Tess stood her ground. “Also, even if ghosts were real and my parents wanted me dead — one of which is unproven and the other a complete lie —, they would have likely manifested way sooner. You know, back when I didn't have a support system and… was considering ending it all already?” She recovered from the slight discomfort that memory filled her with, staring fearlessly at the crowd.

She scanned that crowd, now aware it was nothing but a collection of imitations of those she knew. Their hateful expressions now looked so blatantly artificial — all conveying one emotion, lacking variation. More like background extras than true individuals.

“None of this is real. You claim I have no worth, but you're the ones who aren't real people. Just some construct put together by some cruel entity…”

Everyone around her began writhing in place. Their mouths went agape, their eyes rolling to the back of their heads. Before she could process this, their forms tore apart, discharging blinding light that spread across everything.

___________

Once an intern removed the headset, Fiore sprung off her chair with a gasp. Her shoulders heaved, adrenaline coursing through her veins still. Her pupils darted about, scanning every inch of where she now found herself. It appeared to be another room of the mess-hall.

She ran a hand over her neck, opening her mouth wide. Once reassured of her own wellbeing, she snapped her head toward the mosey-haired intern. Upon spotting the virtual reality device the staff member held, a glare crossed her face.

“Seriously?!” She spat. “They put in a vr simulation without warning?! Again?! Fuck you, assholes!”

The intern handling them — a no-nonsense woman — tsked. “I didn't decide to put you through this, brat,” she scolded. “The host did. And he's been overworking us all without giving the slightest fuck.” She attended to two other contestants, removing their headsets, too.

Gnashing her teeth, Fiore stalked outside.

Alessandro came to. Taking much less time to gauge the situation, he evened his breathing. His experience had been terrifying, no doubt. But probably far from the worst, he assured himself inwardly. Even if it made him feel somewhat unsettled over his own body for a moment.

A groan soon diverted the model's attention. Looking over, he saw Dan standing up from his chair, pushing his glasses back up.

Alessandro walked over, draping an arm over the nerd's shoulders. “So, I assume you also had a rough time with what you saw there, right? I know I found it very messed up while within the simulation.”

Dan nodded, rubbing the back of his hair. “I'd rather not disclose it, though.” He averted his gaze. “It would probably sound silly, anyway…”

Alessandro rubbed the other's shoulder soothingly. “No matter what happened, it wouldn't sound silly — at least, not to me.” Prioritizing comforting his friend, he proceeded understandingly. “But if you really would rather not discuss it, that's fine. Just know I am here if you need me.”

Dan nodded appreciatively. “You've already done a lot for me,” he responded. “If not for you, I might have been booted first or third… and completely ignored…” He averted his eyes pensively, but soon refocused as the model spoke again.

“No need to thank me. You're someone who appreciates me as a person, rather than as just a model.” Alessandro enfolded him affectionately, taking him aback.

Dan soon reciprocated, his own lips curved upward. However, as he recalled the despair that flooded him within his nightmare, his smile dropped. His expression grew brooding, orbs drifting to the side.

—Confessional :Dan—

He crossed his arms, face scrunched up and eyes directed downward. “That simulation was horrible…” He trailed off, before he turned his gaze toward the camera. “But also a wake-up call. I need to step up my game. Even if I don't end up winning, I can't go home the same forgotten joke I was coming back here.”

—End Confessional—

Inside the control room, Brian Smith set a hand on John's desk. He observed his laptop screen, which currently displayed simulation-related data.

“Looks like Tom and Hunter have been stirred enough by now.” Chuckling, he drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “Time to dial up their aggression and anger. And make sure you have them and the survivors spawn at the correct spots.”

Knowing speaking up would do no good, John somberly fulfilled his task.

___________

Feeling grass beneath her supine figure, Grett unfastened her eyes — that pulsing mass of crimson clouds greeting her. Sitting up, she realized she was back at the campsite — this twisted Camp Tipiskaw's version of it, anyway.

“What the hell was that?” She pulled herself onto her feet. She didn't get to ponder it for long, as she heard two others groan. Turning around, she saw Tess and Ellie getting up, perplexed as well.

“Did we all just fall unconscious for a while?” Tess questioned, struggling to comprehend this madness.

Ellie shook her head, pointing upward. “The sky is still red and heaving, so we didn't dream that up at least,” she observed.

Grett scanned the whole campsite. “Not to mention, the others aren't here.” Her eyes focused on Tess. “Even if they had awoken prior to us, I doubt Hunter would have left you out here at least.”

The ravenhead understood her argument. “I suppose. Thank goodness, too…” A quavering sigh left her lips. “Even though it was just a trick, briefly thinking he and Ally never cared for me was nightmarish…”

That drew Ellie's attention. “Wait, you… had a ‘nightmare’, too?” She questioned, receiving a nod.

“Seems we all had one,” Grett concluded.

___________

Gnarled trees seemed to crop up without end whichever way Blake looked. Therefore, he had just chosen a random direction to proceed in, hoping it would eventually lead him somewhere. Having woken rather far from camp, he wondered if the same was the case for the others.

Especially his alliancemates — particularly a certain duo, maybe trio? Worry filled him, unusually so. As much as he would probably repudiate it later, those accusations regarding what he became had shaken him. He… didn't know how to deal with that.

“What is wrong with me?” He muttered, rubbing his temples. Due to not paying attention to where he was going, he wound up tripping on an exposed root. Thudding onto the turf, he clenched his fists. “Damn it…”

However, once he hauled himself afoot, he was greeted with something that sure as hell hadn't been there prior.

A… screen? It didn't feature anything indicating a possible power source. Just a disembodied display, floating in the air before him. Questions regarding its origin, or how it functioned, soon got brushed aside. Its contents captured the surfer's attention too much for him to think about it.

It showed what appeared to be the depths of an ocean. Neither fauna nor flora could be seen. Only one figure, his legs stuck between two rocks, his body hanging motionless underwater.

Taking one tentative step closer and squinting, Blake's eyes soon widened. Shock flooding him, he slapped a hand over his mouth. He recognized that figure…

Will…

___________

“Our ‘nightmares’ were all definitely way too specific to be coincidental,” Grett mused, stroking her chin thoughtfully. Each had finished recounting their respective ordeal. Needless to say, something was up.

Tess rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “You're right… it's like… they were designed with the intent to hit us where it hurt.”

Ellie set her hands on her sides. “That's putting it lightly.”

Awkward silence came for several moments. They all attempted to ruminate on what could possibly be happening. Fog seemed to set over their minds, leaving them dazed.

“Ugh…” Ellie groaned. “It's like… something is trying to prevent us from solving this…”

“It's so… artificial…” Grett mumbled, before perking up. “Wait… artifical…” She repeated. “Artificial… Virtual…” She grappled with the following word, the haze hardening over her brain. “Why is it so difficult to think?”

Ellie bristled, too. “Reminds me of someone Tess and I met at university…” She recalled randomly. “They kept taking hallucinogenic drugs, and always said reality got all wobbly under their influence… I don't know if they're still studying now, or-”

Tess hummed, stumbling and holding onto one of the logs for support. “Virtual… Reality…” Her orbs lit up. “Virtual Reality! That must be it! This must be a challenge!” As though her declaration had shattered some spell, that mist dissipated from their heads, allowing clarity to flood in.

___________

Brian Smith frowned over this scene. “Wasn't the bit of extra code I had you program in meant to keep them from figuring it out?” He demanded, scowling down at his intern.

John shuddered. “Well, all that elaborate stuff we have been inserting with the simulation already running must be starting to overload it, sir… I-It could potentially start glitching out if it becomes too much-”

The host cut him off. “Whatever. Spawn some creature to get rid of those three before they disrupt the plan.” His tone evidenced that he wasn't taking no for an answer.

John gulped, yet still objected. “But we would be unfairly barring them from possibly getting immunity-”

Brian plonked his palm onto the desk. “Did I stutter?! Do you damn job, you worm!”

“U-Understood, sir…”

___________

Grett tapped her foot. “So, what should we do then? Are there even any clues as to how we might win this challenge?”

Ellie exhaled, frustrated. “It's probably some sort of ‘last one standing’ wins bullshit,” she scoffed. She clasped her hands together tightly, mockingly mimicking Brian Smith's voice. “Like, oh yeah, let's traumatize those campers until they can't even tolerate hearing half the letters of the alphabet. The ratings will skyrocket!”

Tess sighed, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let's just calm down. I think we should go search for the others. Since this is a vr simulation, they could have just been placed somewhere else.”

“True,” Grett concurred. “Let's get going-”

Howling interrupted her. The three cocked their heads in the direction it came from, as rustling rapidly neared their location.

“What the hell is-?!” Ellie began. She would never finish that sentence. A behemoth leaped out the bush — its path and size letting it ram right into both Ellie and Grett.

Tess sprung back, falling on her butt. Scrambling backward, she was petrified at the sight.

A shadowy, heaving mass pinned both Grett and Ellie down by their lower halves with its weight. They thrashed, flailed their hands at it. It didn't even flinch. And their swings at its mass sent agony vibrating through their fists, which would come out with bits of skin missing — corroded by whatever properties it possessed.

Tentacles burst from it, prompting screams to grow louder. Bile threatened to rise up Tess’ throat. Every tendril-like appendage seemed to move individually, not adhering to one single mind. Almost seemed as though each were its own unique organism. Soon, several interlaced into two thicker appendages. Without delay, they swooped down upon Grett and Ellie, one for each face.

Tess threw a hand over her mouth, barely muffling a strangled sob. What kind of sick mind could conjure up something so twisted? Past horror challenges had been disturbing, sure. But this reached a whole other level. Looking back, she was almost grateful for Ally's early departure now. It spared her from having to endure this.

Loud slurps snipped her reflection. She took another gander over the scene, and quickly regretted it. Knowledge that this was nothing but a simulation did little to alleviate her visceral response. She gagged, eyes watering from revulsion and distress.

Both limbs bulged, as they started extracting what one could only assume was matter from both its helpless victims. Ellie and Grett convulsed with undeniable agony, desperation clear in their motion as they vainly endeavored to escape this painful process. Unfortunately, neither tentacle budged, both remaining firmly attached to their faces.

Their forms shriveled further each second, undergoing rapid deterioration and emaciation. Following a certain point, their struggles commenced slowing down, their vitality reaching levels too low for them to persist. Soon? Nothing but lifeless husks remained.

She hiccuped from terror and crying. But not for long, as several tentacles soon seized her limbs, raising her in the tears. She thrashed and cried out for aid, to no avail.

Crack

Her arm got twisted.

Crack

Her leg turned a full 180 degrees.

Snap

Her screaming ceased, her widened eyes now glassy, her head now facing what lay behind the rest of her body. She was dropped onto the turf, the creature lumbering away.

Several minutes following the being's departure, Hunter shuffled out of the twisted sea of trees. His balled fists twitched, orbs dilated and his pupils just a tad too tiny. Nevertheless, he still froze in shock and horror at the sight of Tess’ demise.

“Tess!” He shouted hoarsely, rushing over and crouching beside her broken carcass. “Oh god! Wake up! Please… wake… up…” He trailed off, unable to deny reality. She was gone. He hung his head, weeping.

Another presence emerged from the woods.

“You know who did it…” He told Hunter, his tone sounding just as off as the latter's.

Hunter's heartbreak soon gave way to anger, teeth gnashing.

“Blake…”

___________

“Wake up, dumbass!” Blake couldn't help but shout. This was unbelievable. Sure, he had used the brickhouse throughout the pre-merge. But he would never wish death upon somebody! He banged on the anomalous display carelessly.

Big mistake.

His hand sank into it. It… felt exactly like water. As though this wasn't just a screen, but a portal to another realm. An endless, hopeless ocean. Will's watery tomb. Yelping, the surfer withdrew his now drenched hand, pressing it against his chest.

It was too late, however. Will… or rather, the thing now piloting his corpse had been stirred.

Before Blake knew it, the horrid monstrosity lunged at the display. Although it thankfully appeared incapable of passing through into the other side, the sight of its grotesque visage engulfing the frame would haunt him for a while.

Will's teeth had rotted and yellowed, now razor-sharp and looking capable of turning limbs into minced meat in seconds. His flesh was grey, lumps of it detaching from his disfigured form, as he bashed his own head against the display — attempting to break through, his malevolent intentions toward Blake clear.

The surfer recoiled in shock. His foot hit a rock, sending him tumbling onto the turf. His chest and shoulders heaved, orbs locked with the hollow sockets of that abomination.

Leaves crunched behind him.

He whipped around, only for a fist to meet his face, sending him sprawling down. Eyes scorching, he saw Tom and Hunter standing over him.

“What the hell is your…” The surfer trailed off, orbs dilating with bewilderment as he took in their appearances.

Both wore utterly hateful scowls. No. Not merely hateful. Murderous. Their orbs glinted with a thirst for vengeance and blood. And Tom wielded an inordinately tapered stick.

Sensing their malicious intent, Blake attempted to get up, panicked. Unfortunately, Hunter rammed back down, pinning him against the grass. No matter how much he thrashed and barked at the other to let go, it didn't work.

“Let go!” Blake cried, growing genuinely terrified. “What's gotten into both of you?” He saw Tom raise the stick over his head, preparing to bring it down upon him. “No-no-no-”

___________

Maniacally grinning, Brian Smith didn't provide his intern any instructions. He cranked up the volume himself.

___________

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

A scream blasted out the loudspeakers connected to Johnathan's laptop. Their volume was loud enough to startle even the other contestants, who were all gathered outside the mess-hall, awaiting the end of this challenge.

Will embraced himself. Drowning to death had been torment enough. He didn't need more trauma. “W-What was that? I-I… it sounded like…”

Alessandro stepped forth, worried himself. “Blake…” He finished, exchanging a concerned look with Dan. “What… what happened to him there?”

Squishy, pulpy sounds unsettled everyone. A tearing sound fleeted by. Blake's cries grew gurgled, before abruptly cutting off. Angry shouts from multiple parties came.

“You two are unbelievable!” Blake exclaimed, swinging the door open violently and storming off — distress visible in his facial features. Hunter and Tom stopped by the doorway, both appearing dazed, as though coming out of a stupor. The two exchanged awkward glances.

Brian Smith stalked outside, John quivering behind him. “Due to my ‘dear’ intern ending the simulation prematurely…” The host snarled at the staff member, who gulped. “I'll have to grant both Hunter and Tom immunity. I'll see you all in two hours. Now, if you excuse me… my intern and I are going to have a little chat…” He slammed the door shut.

___________

“So, can we all agree to work together tonight?” Grett quizzed, gazing between Hunter and Tom sternly.

About ninety minutes remained before the ceremony. It was imperative that they stuck together tonight. Otherwise, their predicament would grow extremely precarious moving forward. Due to that, she had assembled all alliance members somewhere in the woods.

“I suppose… after everything that's happened, staying mad feels pointless,” Tom conceded, scratching his hair sheepishly. He addressed Hunter apologetically. “I'm sorry for blowing up on you over what happened. I just… felt devastated at Jake's elimination…”

The other held up a hand, taking his turn. “It's fine, really. It's that Blake kept claiming you guys would likely get rid of me after he was gone due to me being a threat. And it reminded me of my All-Stars elimination. And once you guys were set on taking out Dan over Fiore…” He rubbed his temples, exhaling. “I should have just been honest with you back then…”

“Yeah. Then maybe we would have had the chance to talk some sense into you, and Jake would still be here instead of Dan,” Ellie remarked.

Hunter rolled his eyes. Despite feeling mostly remorseful, he didn't feel that bad over not listening to Ellie specifically. Was it so hard to at least not make a condescending comment every five minutes? But for group unity's sake, he swallowed his exasperation. He proffered Tom a hand. “Regardless, Blake is not immune tonight. And I wouldn't be opposed to voting him off. Will stop things from becoming sort of uncomfortable after what happened in the challenge…”

Tom accepted the handshake, sharing that sentiment — on top of still seeking to exact revenge upon the surfer over Jake's elimination. “About time he got what's coming to him.”

“Sounds good to me, too,” Grett concurred with a shrug. Inwardly, she figured taking out the apparent leader of the opposing alliance might open up more options if she ever needed to ditch current arrangements down the line. Orbs flitting to Ellie briefly, she then turned to Tess. “What about you?”

“I'm in,” Tess assured. “Never really trusted Blake too much, to be honest…” Her confession made Hunter avert his gaze with guilt.

“I guess I don't mind either…” Ellie added, though frowning.

“Glad we have reached an agreement.” Grett smiled, pleased. “Very well then. Remember not to deviate from the target tonight.”

With that, most walked away.

Tess approached Hunter. “Now that no one else's listening, could we have a moment?” She requested.

Having hoped for that opportunity himself, Hunter nodded, orbs drifting to the side. “I… I'm sorry for letting Ally's elimination affect me so much. I was just so distraught, I let Blake get into my head more than I should have.” He clutched a sleeve miserably. “I thought I was being strategic, but I really just jumped to conclusions, acted like an asshole, and made things worse…”

Turning his back to her, he hung his head. “I… understand it if your opinion of me has worsened due to this. I deserve it…”

Moving closer, Tess embraced him from behind. “Of course, I don't think any less of you. I was never angry, just… worried.” Her reassuring words were like balm to his conscience. “I'm just happy you've admitted to it.”

Breaking free in order to face her once more, he reciprocated the gesture. “Thank you for always being there for Ally and I…”

___________

—Confessional :Dan—

The nerd sat there, arms crossed.

“Blake seems way too agitated right now. Given how we heard him scream at the end of the challenge, I can only assume something nasty happened in that awful simulation.”

Propping his chin in one hand, he continued. “He'll probably be well enough to get his head back in the game by tomorrow. But given this next ceremony is likely going to end up coming down to a tiebreaker between him and whoever we choose to target, this brief moment of weakness may compromise things if we're not careful.”

He sighed.

“Although I would prefer to target Ellie, she's unfortunately rather fierce. She would give it her all in a tiebreaker, no matter if it's physical or mental. Besides, there's someone else, who may slip under the radar. Someone who's likely getting the highest amount of support if allowed into the finale…”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Dan's pitch was unexpected, especially since I thought he'd want to try and finally get rid of Ellie.” Still, he shrugged. “But his points are solid, so we got the others on board… for the most part.”

He set both hands on his lap.

“Will seems rather hesitant, but Dan assured me he'd handle it. And yeah… him being able to relate to Will on some level may help him convince the guy. And that information Blake gave us about what happened on their former team may come in handy. At least, I hope so.”

—End Confessional—

Dan found the brickhouse lounging on a rock a few yards away from the trail. The nerd noticed that conflicted glint immediately.

Shoving both hands in his pockets to try and appear more casual, he approached. “I noticed you looking rather… unsure, when we brought up who to target…”

Briefly startled, Will soon calmed down with a sigh. “I… I'm sorry… I just feel bad still. Those two trusted during that first ceremony on our former team, and I… I betrayed them just like that.” He ran both hands over his face. “This feels like rubbing salt in the wound.”

Coming over, Dan sat beside him. “I can see why you feel bad. But think about this; did they bother trying to understand your situation afterward? Blake told the rest of us about how things went down on your team. And honestly? Hunter sounds like such a hypocrite.”

“R-Really?” The other replied, taken aback.

The nerd folded both arms over his chest, nodding firmly. “I mean, I know his alliance with Yul happened years ago and all, but still. You'd think he would eventually understand how you just did what was best for your game. Did he ever even show remorse?”

Will couldn't argue with that. “I suppose that's true, but we're not even targeting him directly…” He arched an eyebrow at the other. “Beaides, I thought you'd want to get Ellie out…” He pointed out.

Dan heaved a sigh. “Well… given there are five of us and five of them, this will most likely end in a tiebreaker. And we both know Ellie will do whatever it takes to succeed.” He placed his hands over Will's. “And given they'll likely target Blake, who's still shaken over whatever he experienced during the challenge, it would be stupid of me to risk putting our whole alliance at a disadvantage just to try and eliminate her.”

“I see…”

The nerd set a hand against the brickhouse's chest. “We both are similar in a major way, you know?” He said. “After Season 1, most people either didn't remember us, or if they did, saw us as nothing but jokes. This season… it's our chance to change that. To show how we were just dealt a bad hand when we started. And I'd hate to see either of us fall just because we felt bad for people who have barely ever respected us…”

Once Dan's speech ended, Will was left to ponder…

—Confessional :Will—

Clenching his shorts with both hands, he looked down with guilt. “I'm… I'm sorry…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Flames crackled behind a rather irritable Brian Smith, who took a mere gander at the final 10. He tapped his foot impatiently, just counting the votes silently on the spot. With an eye-roll, he flung them up, too incensed to care about professionalism.

“Hello, final ten. Ready to figure out which of you sucks too hard to even get a single-digit placement? I really do not give a flying fuck.” He declared. “Thankfully, there's little reason to announce each vote aloud. You know why?”

Many tensed. Some uncertain, whereas those more perceptive already deduced the result.

“Because we have a 5-5 tie, shocking I know,” Brian revealed, snidely waving both hands in the air. “So, instead of wasting everyone's time, I'll just say both names…

Blake…”

The surfer merely sighed. “Can't say I'm surprised.” He scoffed wearily, folding both arms over his chest in an attempt to maintain his usual demeanor.

Alessandro reached for his shoulder, but Blake just shook his head. The model withdrew his hand, worried, but Dan gave him a discreet wink of reassurance, prompting him to smile with appreciation.

“And…”

Ellie humphed. “It's me, isn't it-?”

“Tess!”

Shock surged across five of the campers, particularly Hunter.

“WHAT?!” He shouted, springing up. Whipping around, he glowered at the opposing alliance. Once his gaze alighted on Will, however, slight despair tempered his ire. “Seriously, Will?! Even with Tess not wanting me to be so harsh toward you, you still-?!”

“ZIP IT!” The host screamed, fed up with this interruption. “I want to get this over with. So either shut up, or I'll auto-eliminate Tess.”

Fists curling tight, Hunter reluctantly fell silent and sat back down. Tess held his tense hand gently, regarding him with a solacing, if resigned, smile. He could barely keep his eyes from welling up.

Meanwhile, Brian Smith muttered morosely to himself. He hadn't come up with a proper tiebreaker yet. And frankly? His frustration prevented him from devising anything substantial. Therefore, he scrawled a few sentences onto the nearest sheet of paper.

He cleared his throat, addressing the cast again. “Alright, this will be quick. Two questions for you to answer.” He tossed a pair of sheets — along with a pen — to each of the two players at risk. “Write the answer down and deliver the sheet to me.” He shot the other eight a glare. “And if any of you try to help them, you're getting removed, capiche?”

Hunter and Ellie glowered back, yet remained hushed.

Blake and Tess exchanged looks — the former apprehensive but trying to keep up a tough front, whereas the latter appeared much calmer.

Regaining some semblance of professionalism, Brian Smith raised a finger.

“Who was the first boot of DC1?”

Will wilted, averting his gaze. Both scribbled down their answer, handing it over at the same time.

The host deadpanned. Perhaps his own foolishness dawned on him? “Yeah… not the hardest question to solve.” He deliberated over what to throw at the duo to settle this, then snapped his fingers, smirking. “What placement did Dan get last time he played?”

Tess paused, pen hovering over her slip. She had to think a little. She knew he had placed somewhere around the late pre-merge. Had he gotten booted before or after Ashley? The cowgirl had received the invite back to All-Stars, but she believed Dan may have gone farther than her in DC1…

Blake scrawled down the answer without hesitation, delivering it to the host just as she recalled Dan had gotten 9th place. Now, had the surfer remembered that, too?

Brian Smith assessed his sheet for mere seconds, then gave the final verdict. “And Blake has… answered correctly! Dan did, indeed, get 9th place in DC1.” He sent the nerd a sneer. “Got kicked off right before merge,” he taunted, making the scrawny contestant cross his arms and pout.

Hunter stood back up, clutching his hair, tears leaking from his eyes. “No…” Escaped his lips, sorrow overtaking his prior rage.

Tess let her own paper fall from off her hand. She sighed, disappointed, but not overly upset. “That's… unfortunate.” Despite her admission, she gently took Hunter's hands in hers. “But look on the bright side. I did get to the merge again this time. And even survived a post-merge elimination — even if I did now get eliminated in the second merge round again.” Aware this wasn't sufficient to comfort Hunter, she continued. “Could you walk me out?”

Hunter nodded slowly. “Of… of course…”

From the stumps, Ellie's gaze drifted aside, faint guilt crossing her features.

___________

Both idled on the bus-stop.

Hunter took a deep, miserable breath. “Tess, I… this is all my fault. If I hadn't flipped last round, we would have had the majority tonight. You… you wouldn't be gone-”

Tess enfolded him in an embrace, head resting on his shoulder. “Don't think that way.” She requested. “We already talked about all this. I forgive you. Just… try and keep your mental-health in mind moving forward, okay?”

Choked up, he barely managed to answer. “I'll do my best… I… promise…”

The bus-of-losers pulled up. Once it departed, only Hunter remained there, watching on — alone all over again. But why? Why would those five even target Tess, of all people?

—Confessional :Dan—

He crossed his arms, orbs moving slightly to the side to avoid staring directly at the camera. “Yeah… I would have much preferred to get Ellie out. But again, I had to consider the possibility of this being a more in-depth tiebreaker. And again, Tess had basically zero enemies, and would have likely garnered all the support had she made the finale. Almost all prior seasons have had helpers be a considerable factor in whether or not a player won…”

Swallowing his slight guilt, he adjusted his glasses. “Besides, with how reluctant Will already was tonight, he may have just become more hesitant had she stayed longer.” He sighed. “Just did what was best for my game.”

—Confessional :Blake—

He humphed half-heartedly. “After what happened in that damn simulation, getting booted tonight would have sucked major ass. So, glad that didn't happen at least, I suppose.” His hand brushed over his trunks. Feeling something beneath the garment, he paused. “What's this?”

Pushing his hand in, he fished out a folded sheet of paper… The reward…

“Oh…” He let out. His mind had been too full for him to think to recheck after the challenge concluded. Well, no point dwelling on that now. Unfolding the slip, he learned what reward he had been given exactly.

Eyes widening, his lips expelled a gasp.

—End Confessional—

Chapter Text

Once more, the first scene took place before the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw. Brian Smith had his hands set on either side, flashing a smirk.

Spreading out both arms, he commenced recapping last episode's events. “Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…”

His narration went on, as footage from said episode played. Starting with the multiple altercations occurring near the beginning.

“After Hunter's paranoia and distrust of one alliance caused him to play into another's hands and send Jake packing on the first merge round, tensions were high amongst the campers. And, of course, we figured out the best way to deal with them…”

Cackling sounded, as early moments from that nightmarish simulation were shown. As snippets of their torment began coming up, his laughter ceased.

“Giving them something to actually be troubled over, of course!” He chortled. “Of course, some of them really insisted on breaking the immersion, so we ‘unfortunately’ had to… interfere a little…” Glimpses into the fates Tess, Ellie and Grett suffered flashed past.

Finally, the whole ordeal with Tom, Hunter and Blake came on-screen.

“We even got an exciting climax…” The ending to the challenge replayed. “Though… it definitely would have been even better, had it not been for a certain member of staff cutting the simulation off…” He grumbled.

While he cleared his throat, moments from last episode's ceremony were shown.

“The votes wound up tying. Between someone we all knew others would target — Blake. And another you all probably didn't see coming — Tess.” Cut to several scenes from the tiebreaker, ending with its conclusion. “Ultimately, thanks to Blake somehow instantly remembering how Dan's run ended, he clawed his way into the final 9, while Tess had to bid Hunter farewell…”

Back with new footage, Brian Smith now had a hand cupped around his mouth. “I bet some of her fans were left frothing at the mouth.” He snickered. Flinging both hands up and apart, he grinned and raised his volume. “Nine players remain! Whose will be voted out next?”

___________

Mere minutes had elapsed following Tess’ departure. The night had stilled — with only the bonfire providing crackling for background noise. It accentuated that emptiness within Hunfer.

Alone, he slouched on a stump, desolate. Despite his vow to Tess, he found it hard to feel motivated to hold on. First, Ally. Now her? Regardless of her assurances, he couldn't help but blame himself. The numbers didn't deceive, after all. They would have held the power tonight, if not for him flipping last time. His recklessness not only brought about Tess’ eviction, but also put him and the other three in the minority.

Even worse? Him briefly raging at Will again tonight might have snuffed out their most feasible shot at turning the tide. Hell, his refusal to ever simmer down following Ally's elimination must have driven him to stick with those four. So much for endeavoring to navigate this game more strategically.

Palms covering his face, he muttered, “I'm such a mess…”

“Are you okay?”

Hunter's head scorched up at the familiar, yet unexpected voice. Sure enough, Tom stood before him. However, his gaze evinced compassion rather than judgment. Rather befuddling. Despite their reconciliation, he figured things remained fraught between them.

“Tom? Um… what are you doing here?” Hunter inquired, arching an eyebrow.

Tom shuffled. He had never been that great at consoling others. But still, he felt obligated to try. “Well… Tess got eliminated. Since Jake was eliminated, I know how much it stings to lose someone so close to you… and to feel it's your fault they left…” He confessed, hands held together.

Hands on his own lap, Hunter blinked with puzzlement. “How would you know about that second feeling?” He questioned, though remorse soon flooded him. Averting his gaze, he sighed. “We both know I was the one who flipped that round. Not you. I appreciate how you went out of your way to give me an apology. But I'm the only one who did stuff wrong…” He clutched his chest.

The other shook his head. “That's nonsense. That apology I gave you? I mean it. We shouldn't have ignored your concerns. Especially with how frustrated you got during that meeting, we should have looked into it.” Growing more somber, he displaced the dirt under him with his foot, as he continued. “Besides, I can't help but feel as though I shouldn't have provoked Blake so much…”

“I'd rather not talk about him too much right now…” Hunter muttered, his tone making the other wince with awareness. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid via booting that surfer. Though yesterday's challenge's conclusion remained hazy for both, what brief flashes either could discern were disturbing. Of course, they stayed averse to Blake, but it still nagged at them.

Folding his arms against his chest, Tom nodded understandingly. “That's fair. But basically, I feel that, had I gotten less confrontational, he may not have been alert enough to assemble that alliance of his. We might have been able to blindside him…” He sighed miserably.

“I don't think that's the case,” Hunter objected. “Blake seemed rather active back in the pre-merge already. I doubt he wouldn't have figured you and Jake would gun for him first chance you got, even if you were more subtle.”

Rubbing his temple, Tom resumed. “Regardless, my point is that you shouldn't beat yourself up over it. I didn't have anyone to help me through the night Jake got eliminated. So, I don't want you to feel as alone as I did. So, care to have some company?” He extended a hand.

Several moments later, Hunter took it — an appreciative smile forming on his lips.

___________

Seven headed down the dirtpath to their campsite. Although their feelings regarding what they experienced through the challenge had somewhat normalized, those memories unsettled most of them still. Not that anyone would openly share that with such a large group.

Pensive, Blake kept his orbs on the vegetation to his right. Despite succeeding once more tonight — with them now outnumbering their foes — he couldn't scrounge up much joy from it. What was wrong with him?

—Confessional :Blake—

The surfer frowned. “Even with everything going smoothly thus far, I can't get what happened out of my head. Like, I know we're enemies and it was a simulation in the end, but how could those two… do that?”

Fists curling, he shook his head vehemently. He couldn't dwell on it, he refused to. Moments later, he unfurled his hands, sighing.

“Regardless… there is something to look forward to at least…” He smirked, shoving the baggage aside. He held the slip between two fingers. “This turned out to be a clue to the immunity idol location. Not sure exactly what it means yet, but I'm sure I can figure it out once I wake up early tomorrow to go forage for it.”

—End Confessional—

Scowling fiercely, Ellie proceeded with clenched hands. Her teeth gnashed. She couldn't conceive what had possibly driven them to target tonight's unfortunate victim. They may not have interacted much this season — courtesy of getting stuck on different teams. However, that just made Tess’ departure sting even further.

Unlike Hunter, however, sorrow did not overwhelm her ire. Eventually, it erupted.

Halting, she swiveled around, orbs blazing toward the five responsible. “Why the hell did you target Tess?! Of all people?!” She flung her hands upward, in spite of Grett motioning for her to back down. “She did nothing against any of you!”

Dan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Trust me, she certainly wasn't the one any of us wanted out the most. But we all knew tonight's vote would end in a tie.” With that snarky remark, he advanced toward her, pointing. “Just be grateful strategy was prioritized here. Because I sure as hell would have loved to send you packing.”

Orbs constricting, Ellie smacked his hand away hard. “Oh, so your petty ass now cares about strategy?” She derided. “Only took you, like, what? Getting carried by your hunk buddy over there for nearly half the game? Being seen around you so much may kill off his career. There's only so much his appearance can make up for.”

Flinching over this sudden jab, Alessandro averted his gaze. Under normal circumstances, hearing others claim his body was all he had going for him would already strike his insecurities. But so soon after what transpired within that simulation? Another stab into a smarting wound.

Eye twitching, Dan got in her face. “First, I've been caring for strategy for a long time now. Otherwise, I certainly would've pushed for us to target your ass both times I got the chance.” He retorted. “Second, do you really want to go there?” He hissed. “I'd rather not risk getting offensive, but if you're going to start shit-talking others for being close to me, I may just begin hypothesizing what Gabby's affection toward someone like you may say about her mental state-”

THUD

Gasps escaped some contestants.

Dan tumbled onto the dirt beneath their feet, blankly pressing a hand to his aching, reddened cheek. It would likely form a bruise soon. Lagging behind slightly, his mind slowly registered what just occurred. Had she just… Really?

Standing over him, Ellie was unapologetic. “Keep her name off your filthy lips. Otherwise, you're getting a broken nose next.” Turning her back to everyone, she forged on. Cringing, Grett tailed her.

Rushing over, Alessandro crouched beside his friend. Worried sick, he cupped his chin, coaxing his head in order to better inspect the injury. “That's likely going to leave a bruise for a couple weeks,” he observed, feeling guilty for not stepping up sooner. “I'm sorry this happened to you, Dan. I… I should have told her off myself, instead of leaving you to defend me.” He apologized profusely, as Fiore and Will proceeded past them.

The former maintained a deadpan expression, moving nonchalantly. Like usual, she paid little mind to their plight, wanting to just get some rest from this. Inwardly, she was sort of preoccupied with her own emotional baggage from last challenge. No way in hell did she have the patience or desire to sit through others’ drama.

Regarding our resident brickhouse, his meek nature naturally lent him an aversion to heavy confrontation. Combine that with getting forced to relieve his trauma — an even more twisted take on it, in fact — mere hours ago, and all he craved was some rest and quiet. He did, however, glance over his shoulder once.

Despite not speaking immediately, Blake stayed behind with the other two, watching.

Gripping the model's hand as both stood up, Dan shook his head. “Don't blame yourself for this. You're the only person I had in my corner throughout the pre-merge. And the only reason I've made it this far.” He reassured. Gazing on head — specifically toward Ellie's figure, by now somewhat difficult to make out — his countenance darkened. “That jerk would've probably gotten me eliminated early on, if not for you.”

The model's eyes narrowed as they trained on her departing figure. “Wish we could've gotten her booted pre-merge for her second consecutive time.”

Arms folded over his chest, Blake hummed with ponderation. “Being stuck on a team where the majority sided with her sounds like a nightmare.” He commiserated, ruminating on stuff himself.

Looking back ahead with a dejected sigh, Will just continued down the path. Beside him, Fiore arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

—Confessional :Ellie—

Remaining as remorseless as prior, she regarded the camera with a glare. “I don't care if people think I'm too harsh, or that I provoked him. I won't let him talk shit about Gabby, no matter how ‘hypocritical’ that may make me!”

—Confessional :Dan—

Lightly poking his struck cheek, he let out a pained noise. Rubbing it, he stared angrily toward the lens. “Is it bad that part of me hopes that, in the event our next challenge involves parkour or something, Ellie falls off?”

—Confessional :Will—

He twiddled his thumbs. “I'm glad Blake won that tiebreaker… even though I feel bad it had to be against Tess…” He sighed. “He seems… somewhat distant now.” Trying to brush it off, he added, “I'm sure he's just got a lot in his mind.”

—Confessional :Blake—

He hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “Ellie really seems to have been giving Dan hell. Not to mention, she socked him over bringing up Gabby — when he only did it after she made much more direct comments attacking Alessandro.”

Recollecting something, his orbs drifted aside.

“I often found Jake's tendency to seem overdramatic… exhausting while we dated. For the brief period between… my father finding out about us and our breakup, I found out outright annoying… But in comparison to how insufferable Ellie seems to be toward Dan? It does seem slightly less exasperating…” He mused.

Blinking, he was reminded of the fact this was getting filmed. And quickly cleared his throat.

“I said slightly less,” he emphasized sternly.

—Confessional :Grett—

Drumming her fingers on the edge of her stump, she sighed. “Ellie should really try getting a grip on her temper. Especially now.” She crossed her arms, tapping her foot somewhat anxiously. “This is bad. We started the merge forming a majority. But two rounds later, and those five now outnumber us. Let's see…”

Pondering for a bit, she enumerated. “In the unlikely event there was still the slightest chance we could get Dan to work with us, that punch from Ellie definitely snuffed it out. And given how close he and Alessandro have grown, that means we won't be able to convince the latter either. So much for maybe using the fact we worked together briefly in secret to sway them into colluding with me again.”

Huffing, she hung her head, but didn't allow her determination to falter.

“I'll just have to think of something else…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Johnathan perspired, raking his fingers across his hair. Drawing another tissue off his pocket, he hastily wiped his forehead. Couldn't risk letting sweat drip onto his keyboard, after all. Following Brian Smith's stunt, he worried the technology may have sustained long-term errors.

Not helping matters was how the host had another virtual reality challenge planned for the season. Of course, when John attempted to bring up his concerns, they got dismissed. Now? All he could do was tinker with the device to the best of his abilities. Sure, needing to work even more without pay sucked. But this system could turn very hazardous if it malfunctioned while in operation.

Humph

He paused, recognizing that voice. Relieved it wasn't Brian Smith. “I'm just trying to ensure everyone will be safe next time our boss decides to stick them in another vr challenge,” he explained, unprompted. “I really don't want anyone getting hurt because of how careless he's getting.”

That same intern who had removed everyone's headsets stood on the doorway, setting her hands on her hips. A fizzing bulb — fastened to the ceiling with string — dimly illuminated her light-brown bun. Her expression, though unamused, bore concern.

“Let me guess. That spoiled brat didn't even pretend to listen when you brought up how incompetent he was.” Julia shook her head, rolling her eyes. “He's a complete piece of work.”

John heaved a long sigh. “Tell me about it. I wasn't quite as harsh as you put it. But yeah… he's just so…” He hung his head, resuming his work. “...careless. Not to mention, he's likely going to be even less forgiving to me because I ended the simulation early. But… I'm glad to at least have one person who cares about me here…”

Julia guffawed, a warm smile forming. “Well, we're both stuck working on this crappy season together, so we may as well stick together.”

Johnathan nodded. Interacting with Julia made him hopeful that maybe — just maybe — things would turn out okay.

___________

Dawn was nearing. Although still dark, the hue hanging overhead was a shade lighter.

Within one of the tents, Blake woke up early. The surfer quickly checked out the others. Asleep. Relief washing over, he gingerly crawled out of their tent. Unbeknownst to him, a certain model opened one eye, watching his departure.

—Confessional :Blake—

Inspecting his clue, he huffed. “Still haven't figured it out yet.” He folded it and tucked it into his trunks again. Probably still too rattled, he presumed. Didn't say it aloud, of course. “Regardless, even if we got the majority right now, I'd rather try and be safe than sorry. If… Tom finds it by accident, I may be screwed.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Legs crossed, the model rested his cheek on his palm. “While everything that's happened recently has weighed on me, I do remember Blake seeming oddly jumpy when we first awoke inside the simulation. I didn't call attention to it, but did make a mental note to keep an eye out.” Crossing his beefy arms, he continued. “I know I haven't been doing much, but I do want to minimize how much stuff I may be in the dark about.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Clenching his fists, the surfer kicked a stone, sending it rolling until it hit a nearby tree.

An hour. One hour exploring these damned woods. What did he have to show for it? Jackshit. How did so many players stumble across it so casually? Part of him wondered whether some totem locations were decided with that intent. Didn't seem far-fetched. An emotional totem-play — particularly one that screwed over someone that deserved to advance more — caused ratings to skyrocket, regardless of actual reception.

Brushing leaves apart to examine another bush, he found nothing once again. Frustrated, Blake fished out and opened his slip. Whether due to plain lack of skill in this particular area, or his mind merely not being in the right place currently, he couldn't decode it.

He gritted his teeth, re-reading. “Behold the perfect place for your passion, from a vantage point — there, you shall find your salvation.” A crease formed on the paper's edge, as the surfer gripped it tighter with umbrage. “What the fuck does that even mean?!” Grouching, he began crumpling the sheet into a ball.

“I'm… not sure damaging that advantage is a sound idea.” A velvety voice stopped the other man in his tracks. Emerging into view, Alessandro approached. Not wanting Blake to misunderstand his intentions, he swiftly continued. “Don't worry. I promise not to tell anyone about this.” Waiting to ensure this vow had assuaged his worries, he proceeded. “Given how hard you've been searching, and the usage of the word ‘salvation’ in that clue, I assume you're attempting to find a totem.”

Realizing lying would be pointless, Blake sighed, running a hand down his face. “Fine. You got me. An intern gave me this before our last challenge.” Squinting, he questioned. “Did you just happen to decide to follow me after waking up early, or something?”

Deeming honesty the best policy, the model shook his head. One finger raised, he responded, “Actually, I noticed you looking kind of nervous when we first woke up within the simulation. That's how I first got suspicious.”

Blake groaned. “Great. What if others noticed it, too?” He muttered.

Alessandro gestured for him to simmer down. “I doubt it. We had to wake Will and Dan up, remember? Besides, the only one amongst our alliance who theoretically might use this information against you is Fiore. And she only woke up due to the small scene Will made, after the rest of us were already up.” He pointed out.

Letting out a huff, the surfer nodded. “I see your point.” He glared down at his now creased slip. “Starting to wonder whether keeping this is even worth it at this point. I can't figure out what the hint means.” His arms fell limp against his sides, the paper almost escaping his hold.

The model's orbs glinted with a concerned tinge. Drawing closer, he hummed, then spoke again. “Can I… take a look?” He offered.

Blake's grip on the idol clue tightened momentarily. But soon, he relanted. “Knock yourself out, I suppose,” he agrees, handing it over.

Taking a gander over it, Alessandro stroked his chin in thought. “Behold the perfect place for your passion, from a vantage point — there, you shall find your salvation.” Repeating those words, he glanced at the surfer. Lips parting with realization, he snapped his fingers.

“Since this reward was given to you, ‘the perfect place for your passion’ must refer to an area where you can surf.” His words captured the surfer's attention, so he went on. “As for the ‘from a vantage point’ bit, it must mean the totem must be hidden somewhere high up, but close enough to give a good view of the area.”

“Well, there's only one lake here in Tipiskaw,” Blake mused, catching on. “And given it's on a beach, that abuts the woods, the closest vantage point would be…”

“Atop one of the trees standing right next to the sand,” Alessandro concluded for him, returning the slip. “If you go now, you might manage to go through each tree before next challenge. I'll go back to camp so others don't get suspicious of anything. If they ask, I'll just cover for you.”

Blake nodded, prompting the model to turn around to start his way back to camp. “Wait…” He called, making Alessandro glance over his shoulder, intrigued. Orbs averted with discomfort, the surfer folded his arms. Although reluctant, he eventually forced himself to spit it out. “Do you… Damn it, I can't believe I'm asking this. Do you think I'm a piece of shit?” He inquired bluntly.

Taken aback, Alessandro spun around. “Where is this coming from?” He quizzed.

Swallowing the urge to tell him to forget it, Blake heaved a sigh, rubbing his temples. “I'm not fully sure myself. I… guess last challenge made me start rethinking some things.”

Understanding soon came to the model's expression. “Well…” He chose his words carefully. “I can't exactly call you a completely good person, given your history. But… I don't think you're definitively bad either.” He confessed, approaching him again.

Blake shook his head, conflicted. “I don't know. I just… I only befriended Will since he was an easy ally to secure. At first, I figured I'd feel that way regarding you and Dan, too. But… I don't know. I actually like hanging out with you two… and even Will was never too bad, I guess. And after what I saw last challenge, I…” He groaned, unable to continue.

Setting a hand on his shoulder, Alessandro smiled warmly. “You don't need to say anything you're not comfortable sharing yet.” He assured. “But if you must know, the fact you've even had the urge to open up about this to someone shows you're not someone who feels no remorse for what they do. That's already more than you can say about some other contestants on this franchise.”

“Right… whatever…” Blake dismissed, but his facade was easy to see through. With that, he set off.

Standing there, Alessandro watched him go with a fond chuckle.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

A smile graced his lips. “Even though Dan is still my main friend and ally, and that won't change, I admit that I do see Blake as part of the… I guess you can call it a main trio in the alliance?” Shrugging, he proceeded. “At first, it was just because the three of us were in cahoots since before the merge. But I have grown to kind of like him as a friend, too. So, seeing signs that he might feel the same way about the two of us is nice.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Head propped in his hands, Will heaved a dejected sigh as he sat on one of the logs flanking the unlit firepit. Blake was gone already by the time he'd awoken — according to Alessandro, the surfer needed some alone time, no further elaboration. The model himself didn't stay for long — he and Dan ambled off as well, probably to get away from the others following the events of last night.

Fiore nonchalantly sat beside him, taking a bite off an apple. She kept that deadpan countenance, seeming unbothered — or at least disinterested in the drama.

Unbeknownst to either, Grett watched them from inside her tent — lucky enough not to exit it prior to noting the brickhouse's low spirits. To add to her fortune, Ellie hadn't roused yet, perhaps too enervated from her incessant quarrels with Dan. Meaning, no risk she'd squander this chance.

Eventually, without anyone else to interact with, Will reluctantly gazed down at the ten-year-old beside him. “Is it just me, or does it sometimes feel as though we're both getting left out?” He queried.

Irked, Fiore rolled her eyes. “Wow, Sherlock, what a genius observation. I'd never have figured it out without you.” She snarked. Crossing her arms with a scoff, she regarded him derisively. “Did it seriously take you that long to notice? Even for you, that's a new low.”

The brickhouse held up both hands defensively. “H-Hey! Don't blame me. I mean, Blake and I are friends — I doubt he would exclude me on purpose…” He argued.

Giggling, she pointed at him with a sneer. “Oh my goodness, you really haven't learned a thing from your last time competing, have you?” She scooted closer. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but Blake? He doesn't give a flying fuck about you. All he saw upon meeting you was an easy ally, nothing more, nothing less.”

Will trembled at the low blow. But he didn't want to let this… this brat mock him anymore. Shaking his head, he glowered down at her. “You… you shut up! If anyone in this alliance is nothing but an extra vote, it's you! And for good reason. I bet you'd jump ship and turn against us if it benefitted you!”

With a scoff, Fiore stood up on the log. “Yup, and? Only someone moronic wouldn't.” Stepping closer, she flicked his nose mockingly. “But I guess you're that type, so I shouldn't be too surprised.” Hands behind her back, she took yet another step closer. “The truth is clear. You're still the exact same coward who freaked out and got booted first last time you played. Really, the only reason you've gotten this far now is because that surfer opted to use you as his pawn.”

Springing up from the log, Will towered over Fiore, even with the extra height the log provided her. That was it. He had enough of this shit.

“And you're just as petty and vile as last time!” Will snapped back. “How did your parents ever tolerate your nonsense?!”

This sudden jab made Fiore recoil, leading to her almost falling off the log, before she steadied herself. Orbs dilated, she stared at the brickhouse, who crossed his arms, his rage still too great for him to register his own words.

Soon enough, however, Fiore's shock gave way to resentment. She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you get dementia, or simply not watching All-Stars? They didn't tolerate me for long. Nope. They sent me to that boarding school. And you know what happened between that and this season? They disowned me completely. Not just that, but clearly went out of their way to dump me in the shittiest orphanage imaginable, where one wrong move results in getting flogged.”

Will's own eyes bulged once he heard those words, immediate guilt flooding him. Telling Fiore off suddenly felt much less gratifying. Upon finding his voice, he stammered in his attempt to backpedal. “I… I didn't know… I-”

“Oh, clam it,” Fiore cut him off, hopping off the log. “I've been enduring enough shit back at that hell-hole — I'm not dealing with yours here, too!” With that, she stormed off, leaving him to slap a hand to his own forehead.

Though disturbed, Grett recognized an opportunity, and thus slid her head back inside the tent, plotting.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She furiously rubbed her slightly watery eyes, gnashing her teeth. “Who cares what some asshole thinks? So what if I act like a complete asshole?! The way I act toward others is no worse than how those pathetic excuses I had for parents treated me! And don't get me started on the bastards that damn orphanage they sent me to is staffed by.”

—Confessional :Will—

Face buried in his hands, he groaned. “Why do I keep fumbling everything, every single time?” Lifting his head, he tried to simmer down. “I… wish Blake was still as supportive as he seemed across those first few days…”

—Confessional :Grett—

Doing her best to brush Fiore's plight off, she cleared her throat. “That was… something. But staying focused on the game, knowing of Will and Fiore's status as less important members of their alliance may have given me an idea. Perhaps a dangerous one, sure. However, not acting will almost certainly kill my chances, anyway. So, it's a risk I consider worth taking…”

—End Confessional—

Stomping toward the woods to blow some steam — most likely via decimating at least half a dozen shrubs — Fiore wound up bumping into someone instead. Getting knocked onto the grass from the collision, she sat up, shooting daggers up at the bastard.

Crossing his arms, Hunter — who had been on his way back to camp, whilst Tom slept in a little longer — narrowed his orbs right back at her. “Watch where you're going, pipsqueak,” he hissed. “After what happened last night, you're all already on thin ice.”

Curling her fists, Fiore sprung back onto her fit, sick of everyone's shit. “Oh, shut the hell up for fuck's sake!” She barked. “Are you seriously that pathetic, to the point you're resorting to blaming the result of your own idiocy on someone not even half your age?!” She cackled joylessly. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You love doing stuff like this don't you?”

Though briefly taken aback by her erratic demeanor, Hunter swiftly recovered. He snarled, though he attempted not to raise his voice again. “You and the rest of your alliance voted off Tess…”

Her own demeanor subsided into cold resentment soon enough. “An alliance that likely wouldn't have happened had you sided with Alec and I, instead of voting him off with Blake and Will…” She muttered. “And remember how you reacted? Before I could even speak after his elimination was announced, you shut me down, told me to just be glad I didn't get voted off instead… So, follow your own advice.”

Averting his gaze momentarily, Hunter's expression hardened again quickly. “Oh, quit bringing that up. If I'm not mistaken, you yourself have been allies with Blake and Will ever since the merge began.”

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, “Not like I had many other options. And I needed all the help I could get, given I had a child-hating man-child gunning for me.” Seeing Hunter clench his fists, she smirked and goaded him further. “Good thing you and Ally are likely never procreating. You might have actually surpassed my own parents in terms of abusive tendencies.”

That struck a nerve.

Eyes twitching and hands balling so tightly, his nails almost drew blood from his palms. “Listen here, you-”

Blaring off the loudspeakers, Brian Smith's voice interrupted the incoming outburst. “Final 9! Present yourselves before me at the center of Tipiskaw! Time for your next challenge!”

___________

Racing over, Blake reached everyone else at the clearing. Bending over slightly, he clutched his knees, panting. “Wandered too far away while thinking.” Disregarding the glares from Hunter and Tom. Remaining near trees, their foliage shadowed him. This served to prevent others from noticing the few leaves stuck to his unusually tousled hair, along with the perspiration beading his forehead, which he wiped with his arm.

Eyeing the surfer briefly, Brian Smith shrugged. “I'll let it slide just this once. But I better not see it happen again.” His eyes swept over the final nine. “This goes for all of you…” After letting that ominous note linger for several moments, he smirked and got to presenting the challenge.

“Your task is rather basic, but difficult nonetheless.” He held up a flag, a light wind swaying its cloth. “Somewhere around Tipiskaw, a flag like this one has been planted. Your objective? Find and grab it! Don't worry about others wrenching it off you or something. An intern will be watching the camera feeds the whole time, so they'll immediately know if someone gets the flag, and said player will instantly gain themselves a spot in the final 8!”

Ellie cocked her head toward Dan. “That'll be your first time, won't it?” She sneered.

Though irked, the nerd didn't retort. Instead, he crossed his arms and kept his gaze on the host with a pout.

—Confessional :Dan—

He drummed his fingers on the lateral side of his stump. “Although I'm proud of myself for reaching the merge, getting eliminated here would be very humiliating — I mean, I can only imagine the mockery I'd be subjected to online for placing 9th twice-”

Inhaling deeply, he calmed down.

“I… know our alliance technically has the majority now. But there's at least one member of this alliance who is definitely fickle. So, better safe than sorry. Besides, an immunity win would probably help my reputation, too…”

—End Confessional—

“What if none of us find it?” Grett inquired, a brow lifted. “You're literally telling us to go look for something in the woods, and haven't even given us any clues to its location…”

Giving an eye-roll, Brian gave her a faux grin. “You'll have five hours to find the flag.” He elaborated. “And if no one accomplishes that before that time's up? Simple, we will just not give any of you immunity this round. And everyone will be at risk tonight.” He regarded them balefully. “Wouldn't that just make for… awesome television?”

The host was met with either tense or unamused looks. “Pssh. Tough crowd. Anyhow~” Raising both arms, he clapped loudly. “1… 2… GO!” He inaugurated.

The four members of the minority alliance dashed into the woods without delay. Each knew only immunity could guarantee their safety tonight.

Before the rest could go, Will mustered up the courage to speak up. “Wait. Maybe the five of us should go searching together. Strength in numbers and all that.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Scoffing, Fiore started toward the verdure. “And take as long as a snail to make any progress? No, thanks.” She snarked. “Also, only one can win immunity, and I'm not surrendering it to any of you, jerks!” Her figure disappeared into the vegetation before anyone could call her back.

Glancing at a certain model briefly, Blake regarded Will, somewhat apologetic. “She's right. Those four will probably give it their all to find that flag. Even if we have the majority, being able to target any of them can only be good for our game.”

The brickhouse wilted. “Okay…”

“Thanks for being understanding,” Blake replied. “Let's not dawdle.”

Going in different directions, they all sprinted into the woods… Only for Blake and Alessandro to soon return, then properly head into the forest together to talk.

—Confessional :Will—

“Fine. When I suggested we all go together, I wasn't honest about my motives.” He admitted with a sigh. “I… It may sound silly, but I just want to feel validated…”

—End Confessional—

“So… I presume this is about the idol clue,” Alessandro guessed. Upon receiving a nod, he set his hands against his sides. “So… how did the hunt for it go?”

Brushing those leaves off his hair to the best of his ability, the surfer scanned their surroundings to ensure no one was peeking into their exchange. Once assured of their solitude, he turned back to the model.

“As a matter of fact…” He pulled out his find.

Clamping a hand over his mouth, Alessandro just barely managed to gulp down the gasp that almost burst from his mouth. Containing himself, he gave a thumbs-up, beaming.

Taking a deep breath, Blake stored it away again. “I'm just showing it to you since you helped me with that clue. I… Unless a situation comes where I need to reveal the totem to someone else, please, promise me this will stay between us.”

Despite his face growing somewhat solemn, Alessandro concurred. “Fine, I won't reveal it myself for nothing,” he swore. “But… if Dan grows suspicious, or the situation gets dire, I'm not going to lie about it.”

The surfer huffed, but nodded. “Fair enough. Let's get searching properly now.”

Both went their separate ways.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I'm still somewhat surprised Blake didn't try and keep his discovery to himself.” He confessed. “Would've been rather easy for him to claim he hadn't found it. Like, with the amount of trees he had to check, it's not as though missing the totem would have been impossible.” He smiled, shrugging. “Guess my assessment a few hours ago was right, after all.”

—Confessional :Blake—

Rubbing the back of his head, he scoffed. “I know, I know. I could've easily lied and said I failed to obtain it. But… it just wouldn't have felt right, I suppose?” He shook his head. “Besides, Alessandro probably would have found out what I was up to, anyway. No point in potentially straining the alliance.”

—Confessional :Grett—

“Although this challenge may as well be called find-a-needle-in-a-haystack, the fact people are all scattering about could open up some decent opportunities…” She smirked, her confidence returning. “It may seem like a lost cause, but we all know how fast the tide can turn in this game…”

—End Confessional—

___________

The way foliage, grass and bushes kept grazing Fiore's clothing and skin due to her young stature aggravated her to no end.

Frankly, she couldn't tell who she was angrier at. Sure, there were just… no words for how Will's sudden question had made her feel. But that cowardly giant had backtracked as soon as she screeched at him. Hunter, on the other hand… Yeah, he exasperated her even further, despite her needing to endure his shit way less than Will's ever since the merge. His audacity especially — the gall to bitch at her over Tess’ elimination, when he'd pretty much told her to suck it up once Alec got booted.

She stomped more violently across the undergrowth. “Hypocrite.” She muttered through gritted teeth, her volume soon rising. “STUPID FUCKING-!”

“What's gotten you so riled up?”

The sudden voice startled her, interrupting her rant. Spinning around, she was greeted by Grett, who had an eyebrow arched and a hand set against her waist.

Shoulders heaving and her rage not fully abated yet, Fiore huffed. “Was just thinking about that stupid fuck who's paler than Dracula.” Following that blunt statement, she squinted. “And why did you approach me? Even if you spotted me here, it's not as though I would've noticed you had you stayed silent.”

Smirking, Grett stroked her own chin, pretending to ponder for a moment. “Well… I may have ‘accidentally’...” Knowing the ten-year-old would see right through any lies, she shamelessly mimed air-quotes with her fingers. “...overheard your little quarrel with that scaredy pile of muscle.”

Fiore snarled, leveling a finger at the other. “Listen here. If you think you can somehow manipulate me through some ‘personal issue’ of mine, you might as well go eat s-” She got cut off.

“What I did hear was… perturbing, I admit. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about,” Grett assured. “Instead, it's something you mentioned right before. About you two not being as important to the alliance as the ‘main trio’...” She checked her nails, allowing the other time to process her words.

Cooling off to an extent, Fiore tapped her foot impatiently. “So, you're trying to get me to flip?” She questioned. “While I don't exactly give too big a shit about loyalty, I'll have to decline — most of your alliance would distrust me. A particular pasty asshole would definitely push for the rest of you to gun for me first once all four other targets are gone, too.”

Cracking a wider grin, Grett shook her head. “You really think I'd want to face off against someone who won individual immunity four consecutive times in their debut season? Or the himbo cop, who'll likely be deemed the hero of the season, or something? I'm almost offended.”

Fiore hummed, intrigued. “So, you are proposing a final 3 consisting of you, me and Ellie, I assume?”

“Clever girl.” Grett nodded approvingly. “I won't ask you to give an answer immediately. Just… something to keep in mind…” With that, she departed.

Watching her evanesce amidst surrounding flora, Fiore's expression scrunched up with rumination.

—Confessional :Grett—

“While I haven't fully secured Fiore's cooperation, I feel I've sown the seeds in her mind well enough.” She took a deep breath. “Hopefully, this will pay off.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

She tapped the edge of her stump idly, contemplative. “Her offer is… certainly not something to discard. Dan, Alessandro and Blake are an obvious trio. Not to mention, despite me standing by what I told Will, I'm certain those other three would take him to the final 4 over me…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Marching through the endless sea of vegetation, Dan's eyes kept shifting from side to side. With how expansive this forest was, he reckoned it better to just cover as much ground as he could — in hopes that the flag's position would be conspicuous enough for him to spot while passing by.

“By now, we should be around eight episodes in, right?” He mused, as he progressed through the area. “That's already at least one more episode with me still in than DC1 had… And given we started out with 16 players rather than 14, I've already outlasted two more people than last time.” Puffing his chest, which did nothing thanks to his scrawny figure, his tone became inordinately forceful, “... and I'll get even further, of course-”

Before he could finish, he bumped into another player, the collision knocking him down. Groaning, he sat up, and was met with a familiar brickhouse, who offered him a hand, which he took.

“Sorry for running into you…” Will apologized, helping the nerd up. “I was… too nervous to pay attention…” He lowered his gaze with shame over his own admission.

Paying that no mind, Dan sighed. “It's fine. Judging you would make me a hypocrite — I wasn't watching my step either.” Dusting his pants, he considered the other for a moment. “Say, have you found any hints as to where the flag may be?” He quizzed.

The brickhouse shook his head, stammering. “Even if I had, I-I… I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be supposed to let you know. Only one can win immunity, and all…” His gaze drifted to the side. Unable to keep his emotions bottled up, despite having wanted to confide in Blake originally, he heaved a loaded sigh. “Dan, I… still feel like complete crap after what happened with Tess…”

“This again? Remember, it's just the game we signed up for. Not like that other alliance would feel bad about voting any of us off either…” Running a hand over his cheek, Dan felt the area where a bruise had, indeed, begun forming. Eyes narrowing, his expression went cold. “If that's not enough, just know that Ellie — someone Tess is friends with — is a piece of shit who just gave me a bruise last night when I stood up to her. Tess is not innocent — none of us are. Keep that in mind…”

He stalked off.

Alone once more, Will hung his head with a sigh.

—Confessional :Will—

He shifted in his seat. “Well… that sure didn't help much. While I still don't want to betray a friend of mine, maybe I really should start evaluating what's best for me…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Brian Smith proceeded calmly toward his destination. Outwardly placid, yet harboring sinister intent. Well, others would call it sinister. He? He merely saw it as ensuring good television.

Approaching a cave — the entrance of which had been sealed with a metal gate — he walked up to the intern stationed beside it, Julia. “I want a cup of black coffee, now.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you walk all the way here for that, especially when you already have John at the mess hall?” That single question proved sufficient to exasperate him.

Stamping his foot, he got in her face. “Don't question me. I can easily fire your ass if I want to. The network doesn't give enough of a shit about this spin-off to supervise it, so there's nothing to stop me from doing that. Got it?! So, if you wish to remain employed, you better get going, pronto.”

Although this outburst didn't faze Julia, she ultimately figured going unemployed wasn't worth it. “Fine, sir. Just make sure you don't stick an arm in there, you might lose it,” she sassed, setting off, keeping her tranquilizer gun with her.

Once she was out of sight, Brian Smith rubbed his hands together. “Don't worry, darling…” He drawled, whipping out a remote with a snicker. “...I won't even need to get close…” Concealing himself behind a tree and under the undergrowth, he pointed the device toward the gate, pressing a button.

Automatically, both sides parted. Tapping another button, a loud beep sounded right before the entrance. Growling came, then rapid steps. Keeping himself silent, the host formed a demented grin. A wolf left the cave, then sprinted into the woods.

“This is going to be fun…”

___________

Blake roamed the woodland, his own mind filled to the brim. Both his private interactions with Alessandro, those complicated emotions… But his rumination was truncated once he collided with a fellow contestant — the very one he wanted to see the least.

“Watch where you're heading!” Tom hissed, his tone indignant. He backed away a couple steps, clearly not wanting to stand near the surfer. “Ugh, of all people I could stumble upon… The fact you're still here is appalling!”

This attitude got on Blake's nerves. Pressing his hands to his hips, he rolled his eyes. “Seeing you isn't that great an experience either. Also, at least find some new insult — that one had already grown ancient by the time Jake left. Just because it's you saying it now doesn't make it any fresher. In fact, it coming from you might actually be even more insufferable.”

Tom snarled. “Oh, so the disgusting cheater wants to preach now? Screw you!” He barked.

___________

Fixing his hair slightly — the dense foliage had surprisingly failed to mess it up too much — Alessandro proceeded. It felt somewhat lonely, being by himself for a whole hour now. But it hadn't been unpleasant thus far, per se.

Howling broke this dull tranquility, alarming him. Several thuds sounded, nearing his spot.

Instinctively recognizing danger, he dove behind a peculiarly dense mound of brush. Picturing himself standing amongst a crowd of overly loud, excited stans, he steadied his nerves and breathing — hyperventilation wasn't a good look, after all.

Moments later, the wolf emerged into view. Failing to spot the hidden model, it bounded on with relentless ferocity, leaving him alone — safe, but shaken.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Lingering within his hiding spot, he let out a long, shaky sigh. “I just hope it doesn't come across anyone else — especially Dan…” Shuddering over that possibility, he scanned his surroundings, finding the camera recording him, fastened to a bough. Rattled, he quavered, “Who allowed a wolf to stay in the area after one almost got two people back in All-Stars?!”

Once certain the creature was out of earshot, he peeked out. Debating over whether or not to go through with something, he eventually let out a weary breath. “After what the host did last time, this hunch is unfortunately not as far-fetched as it should be…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, Blake lashed out in turn. “Oh, should I let the supposed cop here preach instead?” He prodded Tom's chest, snarling. “You know? The one who drove a stick into my eye, and more!”

Rolling his eyes, Tom crossed his arms, huffing. “Oh, quite whining over it. That was just a simulation,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Unlike you, I didn't hurt someone for real just to be a piece of shit. Not like you didn't sort of deserve it, anyway.”

Despite flinching, the surfer didn't let that slide. “First, you and I know neither of us were aware it was a simulation when you did it. We only found out after it was over.” He glowered. “And second, if you believe cheating warrants the death penalty, then your superiors should seriously consider firing you.”

“That's not what I-!” Giving up on that sentence, Tom flared up. “You know what?! WHY DON'T YOU GO FU-?!”

AAAAAAOOOOOOOOHHHHHH

They clammed up, blinking blankly.

Rustling became louder, as whatever produced it approached their location.

Blake's orbs bulged — their predicament dawning on him first. Pupils darting to the nearest tree, which happened to be laden with apples, he rushed to its base.

Beginning to scale it, he noticed Tom hadn't snapped out of shock. “What the hell are you standing still for, dumbass?!” He barked, halfway up the trunk by now. “That's a Wolf's howl, you idiot! If you stay there like a deer in headlights, it will devour you like one!”

Jolted out of his daze, Tom's adrenaline kicked in. Right as the savage creature sped into view, he dashed over and commenced climbing after the surfer. Spotting both, the wolf howled, crossing the distance between it and the tree in mere seconds — right as Blake pulled himself up onto a robust bough.

Panicking, Tom muttered, “Crap, crap- AH!” His sudden scream prompted the other to gaze down.

Crimson stained his pants around his right ankle, which that feral creature had latched onto with its serrated jaws. It flailed its head about and tugged, attempting to force him down. Agony intensifying from his increasingly wounded foot, he held onto the trunk for dear life — emitting louder, more desperate cries each second.

Tom's bulging, watery orbs flitted across their sockets, frantically seeking something, anything, that could save him. Nothing. His palms, slick with sweet, started slipping despite his best efforts. Another tug, and he'd be at the creatures mercy. It would be it for him. All those decades he and Jake believed they would spend together? Robbed swiftly. Visualizing Jake's reaction pained him almost as much as the worsening damage to his ankle.

Clenching his eyes shut, he inwardly apologized to his beloved…

Thud

Trembling slowly, Tom unfastened his eyes, finding his foot had been released.

Staring upward, the wolf growled and barked. Another apple pelted its face, then another, driving it a few feet away.

Despite his relief, Tom still appeared hopeless, too fatigued to move himself up.

“Do I have to do everything myself?!” A familiar voice groaned. Soon, a pair of strong arms seized his, hauling him higher. “Come on, put some damn effort!” Those harsh words made him exert himself just one last time. Their combined exertion just barely sufficed to get Tom onto the bough himself.

Reclining into the trunk, Blake breathed heavily. Quivering, Tom stared down at the branch supporting them — one thankfully sturdy enough to handle their collective weight.

The wolf began pawing at the base. Spotting his own blood now coating its fangs, nausea pooled in his stomach. Afraid keeping his gaze on that vile sight would cause him to fall off, he reluctantly turned his gaze to Blake.

“Did… did you…?”

Folding his arms against his chest, the surfer scoffed. “Don't get me wrong. I still dislike you as much as always. But I'm not petty enough to let someone die over that.”

“Right…” Both fell into awkward quietness- well, aside from that aggressive wolf still growling and howling beneath them, hoping to feast upon their flesh.

___________

“Fucking unhinged asshole…” Julia muttered, a weapon in one hand and a cup of black-coffee in the other. She stalked through the woods, her mood sour. She loathed Brian Smith so much. That pathetic excuse of a host was giving the whole staff a hard time, especially Johnathan — a dear friend of hers.

Inhaling and exhaling profusely, she told herself it at least couldn't get any worse…

And that's when she ran into the trail of pawprints…

The cup nearly fell off her hand, her grip loosening from utter bewilderment. Standing there, mouth agape, it took her several moments to register what the sight before her entailed.

Once it did, she crushed the plastic article, showing no reaction as some hot liquid splattered over her hand.

“BRIAAAAANNNNN!”

___________

“Well… seems my tactic isn't working as well as I hoped…” Dan sighed, shoulders slumping and gaze lowering. However, this led to him bumping into the last person he wished to interact with…

“Watch where you're going,” Ellie barked, almost downing him with a spiteful shove. She huffed. “Of all people I could encounter, it just had to be you. You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Instantly growing defensive, he scowled. “Excuse me?!” He aimed a finger toward his cheek — his contusion now more visible. “You literally assaulted me last night. At least have the decency not to play the victim now!”

Unmoved, she sneered. “You would know a lot about acting a victim, wouldn't you?” She derided, drawing closer. “That's all you ever do. You should just give up at this point. Even with that alliance carrying you, you won't win. So you may as well quit before that last pair of glasses breaks.”

Incensed, Dan snarled. “Listen here, you-”

Ellie cut him off. “Just accept it. You can yap all you want about how I'm a bitch and you're misunderstood, but we all know you're full of shit.” She was done with him arguing back. “Got it?”

Eyes glinting with hatred, his fists tightened to ache-inducing levels. “To think I felt bad over getting the others to vote off Tess… Your ass deserves to have no friends.” He muttered spitefully, accidentally loud enough for her to overhear.

Shock pumping through her, Ellie blenched at that revelation. “You… YOU WHAT?!” As soon as she processed it, her paleness gave way to rage-infused redness. “YOU GOT TESS VOTED OUT?!”

Despite wincing briefly, Dan soon narrowed his gaze. Too late to take back his words, but… with how much Ellie had insulted him across the season, he figured he may as well use this as an opportunity to get back at her. And hey, he could always make himself seem like less of a strategic threat rather easily.

“Just voting you off would have been too boring.” He chuckled, smirking mockingly. “Since you clearly think I'm a loser with zero friends, I reckoned it would be poetic to leave you with none of your own before I kick your ass out…” He trailed off upon noticing just how enraged she grew. His provoking remarks had worked way too well, too fast.

Before he could speak up again, Ellie exploded.

___________

Blake huffed, increasingly antsy. He really wanted to escape this predicament. That menace scrabbled at the wood relentlessly — its bays and barks denying their minds any peace. The person he was stuck up there with didn't help either.

Speaking of the cop, Tom — wobbly from stress and his injury — let out a heavy, distressed breath. “Is that wolf never leaving?” How he yearned to spot one of those traps, like the one his husband and Aiden had utilized to save themselves last season. But he hadn't set any this time, given the lack of animals prior to now.

Vexed, Blake scoffed. “What kind of psychotic host would let those things roam the area after the shit that happened? Why, of all animals, a wolf has been the first thing to appear here this season?” He grouched.

Although he felt uncomfortable agreeing with the surfer, Tom couldn't help but notice how weird that was. Hoping to distract himself from both his smarting ankle and the threat camping beneath them, he nodded. “Now that you mention that, it is-”

“YOU'RE AN ANNOYING PIECE OF TRASH, YOU KNOW THAT?!”

Both nearly lost their balance, startled by the screeching.

The wolf soon snapped its head in the direction the noise was coming from, its intrigue piqued. As the ranter went on, oblivious to what peril they might draw over, the animal soon growled, bounding off.

A mere minute later, Julia stormed into the scene, wielding her tranquilizer-gun. Spotting them up above, she called out. “Did you two see some wild animal?”

“What do you think?” Blake scoffed with an eye-roll. Leveling a finger in the direction that creature had sprinted, he narrowed his orbs. “Also, tell your boss to quit putting us through shit like this!” He barked.

She merely sighed. “He won't listen,” she muttered, breaking into a run.

___________

“So… that thing was contained?” Alessandro realized, beholding the gated cave. “*Was* being the operative word…”

Swallowing his anxiety, he marched inside. It was surprisingly compact. But sure enough, thrown carelessly into a corner was the flag, bite-marks littering its handle. Gasping, he raced over, nabbing it.

“Looks like you won yourself immunity, hot-stuff!” Brian Smith declared from the entrance, nearly giving the model a heart attack. Loud noises weren't exactly the most comforting to hear with a wolf on the loose.

“Right…” He mumbled. “Um… are Dan and Blake going to be safe?” Worry permeated his voice. “Why was there a wolf out in the woods?”

Yawning, the host held up both hands. “Relax, relax… everything will be fine-” Beeping came from his pocket. “Ugh, give me a moment.” He said. It can only be Julia, I made sure to hide John's device before the challenge. He thought to himself, whipping out his walkie-talkie and answering.

Seconds later, he winced and ended the call. “I guess there's been a change of plans. No immunity for you.” He told Alessandro, shocking the model. Pulling out a folded paper, the host handed it to him. “Return to the clearing as soon as you can.” With that, Brian stalked off with an eye-roll.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

He stood on the clearing, indicating some time had passed. He was the only competitor there for now. He stuffed the slip in his jeans, electing to read its contents later. “That was strange. Must have something to do with that wolf. I just hope no one got hurt…” He trailed off, as an announcement was made off-screen.

His eyes dilated with shock.

—End Confessional—

___________

Dan recoiled from Ellie's relentless outburst.

I really set her off. He figured, holding an arm before his face in case she stooped to physical violence again. Around the edge of his peripheral vision, however, he spotted a shadowy shape hurtling toward them. Squinting, he momentarily considered how it may just be his mind playing tricks on him…

A low howl narrowly reached his ears, shattering such notions. Orbs widening with realization, he tensed up.

It's a… wolf… and it's approaching. It dawned on him. Noting Ellie hadn't picked up on the impending hazard — her cognitive capabilities impaired by ire — his lips parted with the instinct to warn her, but another thought forced them shut again. If that animal gives chase… she's faster than me… He reminded himself. Fists clenching shakily, he concluded that train of thought…

She would leave me for dead, too…

Their altercations replayed through his mind, further setting his decision in stone. Swiveling around, he broke into a desperate run, disregarding how it exacerbated the other's rage.

Ellie's fury skyrocketed. “Get back here-!”

Booming howling cut her off, startling her. Leaves crunched behind her rapidly, growls and thuds now mere feet from her. She spun around, only for the wolf to pounce onto her, pinning her to the floor with its weight.

Eyes bulging, terror coursed through her. “SOMEONE HELP ME! SOMEONE-!” She cried out with agony, as its mouth latched onto her elbow. It didn't even allow her the chance to try and free her limb, jerking its head vehemently, producing further mutilation. Tears streamed down her face, her legs and other arm flailing fruitlessly.

Tugging hard, the wolf sprung a few steps away, tearing off a considerable hunk of skin, sinew and flesh from her forearm. As it chomped on that, she struggled to stand up, unable to use one of her arms to do so. By the time she thought of another way to bring herself back afoot, it was too late.

That feral creature rammed into her again, its hunger not sated yet. Knocked down again, another agonized screech burst from her throat. Her voice grew hoarse. It began gnawing at her right calf, which seared from the violent extraction of mass.

Crimson painted the grass around them, bits of torn meat scattering over it.

Vision swimming from blood loss and pain, Ellie's throat had gone too strained for her to let out anything louder than a croak. She thought this was the end. Suddenly attacked and rent asunder by a wild wolf — her and Gabby's gradually improving life together cut short. Another pang hit her heart. How would Gabby cope with her passing? All she could hope was that Tess, Jake, Tom and others would be there for her.

Finally, it jerked back again, ripping off another considerable chunk. She lacked the strength to even try and crawl away — it was a miracle she had even retained consciousness. Next time it assailed her would most likely mark her end.

Sure enough, once it consumed the hunk it had taken, it advanced toward her, this time eyeing her throat. Whimpering, she shut her eyes, as it stood on top of her. Its mouth came down for the bite…

“HEY!” Another voice shouted, diverting the wolf's focus. Before it could react, however, a dart pierced into its flank. In seconds, it became woozy, then fainted. Soon enough, Julia rushed to her side. “Oh, fuck. Just… try not to move. I'll make that asshole of a host call for help.”

Slight lucidity returned to Ellie briefly. “Wait… I… I need you to hear something first… please…” She managed to get out.

Reluctantly, Julia nodded, leaning closer so as to allow Ellie to whisper in her ear.

___________

“Attention, campers. Please assemble back at the clearing. There was an… unfortunate accident… involving a wolf…” Brian Smith announced, his voice blaring from the loudspeakers.

___________

“Dan!” Alessandro beamed once his friend emerged from the woods. The model had been pacing back and forth since the announcement played, worried sick about his friend. Rushing over, he embraced him. “I'm so glad you're okay…”

The nerd nodded, doing his best to keep his breathing even. He couldn't hide his pallor, however. “I did hear some howling at one point, but thankfully managed to run away before anything bad could happen.” He explained.

“Good thing you had time to run at least,” Blake remarked, approaching both. “Had to remain atop a bough for, like, half an hour at least.”

A few yards behind him, John bandaged Tom's injured ankle. “You'll probably feel pain and have some difficulty using that foot for a while, but it thankfully isn't too severe. And since it's not broken, there's no need to medically evacuate you, unless you wish to leave.” Guilt loaded his tone.

Shaking his head, Tom forced on a smirk. “I can handle it. Don't worry.” He assured.

Hunter came out next, weary and with leaves and a few twigs clinging to his clothes and hair. “My tactic probably… wasn't the best idea…” He mumbled, staggering further into the clearing.

Walking beside him, Grett arched an eyebrow. “What strategy even was that? You look like you just rolled about in foliage and dirt the whole challenge.” She questioned, a deadpan look on her face.

He raised a finger, swaying in place. “I thought the flag might have been hidden in the trees.”

An unimpressed scoff followed, with Fiore coming into view next. “You're the only one who probably grew up with monkeys around here.” She mocked Hunter. “So, unless they wanted you to get another unearned immunity streak, I doubt they'd do that.”

“Shut up…” He spat, too exhausted to come up with something better.

Will trotted out the vegetation, watching his back. “Did… did they really say there was an incident involving a wolf out here?” He quavered.

The atmosphere grew heavier.

Swiftly, Grett's eyes widened, a gasp expelling from her lips. “Wait, where did Ellie go?” She questioned, head darting around in a vain attempt to spot her.

Exiting the mess-hall, Brian Smith chuckled awkwardly. “Ellie may have gotten a ‘little’ messed up…” He admitted. Gasps rang out. “Don't worry. She'll be fine… after a couple weeks in the hospital.” He nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, yes — Ellie will be medically-evacuated, and is officially no longer in the running.”

Everyone was disturbed to varying degrees, even those who disliked Ellie. Crossing his arms, Dan averted his gaze to mask his shame. He hadn't meant for this to occur. What had he been meant to do, anyway? Warn her? Had that transpired, he might have been the one subjected to her fate.

The arm of a certain model wrapped around the nerd's shoulders, distracting him from his guilty conscience temporarily.

Alessandro gave him a comforting look. “Hey, it's going to be okay.” He assured.

“Thanks,” Dan responded, allowing a small smile to cross his lips, despite the apprehension welling up within.

___________

An ambulance was parked near the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw — the Bus of Losers nowhere in sight this time. Its siren blared, as a pair of paramedics carried Ellie into the vehicle on a stretcher.

“I'd advise you not to allow this to happen again.” One warned the host — the sole other person present there — sternly.

“Of course, I know,” Brian replied professionally, thankful he had ordered his staff to remain at the mess-hall. “This won't happen again.”

“It better not.” With that ominous remark, the paramedics entered the vehicle, which sped off.

___________

—Confessional :Dan—

Clenching his fists, he shook his head forcefully.

“I… It would have been me getting maimed and disqualified… had I warned her.” He hardened his expression. “She wouldn't have lifted a finger to help me. I doubt she would have even felt that bad.” He continued, trying to convince himself not to dwell on what transpired. Plonking a fist onto his palm, he concluded, “What happened can't be changed. But now that she's gone? I can finally try to fully focus on the game.”

Inhaling deeply, he mumbled, as though speaking to himself, “You're… halfway there already.”

—End Confessional—

___________

“I'm sorry,” John apologized profusely, eyes watery. He and Julia were sitting at a table inside the mess-hall. “If I hadn't panicked so much, trying to find my walkie-talkie to warn you or Brian, I might have heard you pass by the kitchen to fetch the coffee. Instead, I stayed too busy in the control room.” He sniffled, covering his face with shame. “I don't even know why I didn't just run out. It didn't even pass my mind… If you were warned earlier, Ellie may not have… I just… I'm sorry…”

She placed a solacing hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. “Don't worry. This isn't your fault. I also could have taken a moment to check on you, when I came and heard all that noise coming from the control room.” Heaving a long sigh, she continued, countenance darkening. “Besides, even though the cameras around the cave didn't work today, it's obvious Brian was the one who released the wolves. And come on, the fact he threw the flag inside that place just shows he intended to let that wolf out all along…”

John buried his head in his arms, dejected. “Well… with the lawyers he probably has, it's not like we'd be able to prove it enough for anything to be done about it…” He pointed out sorrowfully. “Trying will just get us fired… or worse, knowing him…”

Julia sighed. “You're right… we need to get some dirt on him…” She suggested, refusing to give up.

“But… from where? We need actual footage, or something…” He pointed out, looking up at her as he rubbed the tears off his eyes.

Resolute, she crossed her arms. “That's true. We just got to keep our eyes open. Let's try to keep him from pulling anything like this again. But if that turns out to be impossible, we'll at least make sure he can't evade justice next time…”

Although apprehensive, John agreed, “Okay…”

Smiling appreciatively, Julia extended a hand. “We'll get through this. Both of us.”

Comforted, he accepted the handshake. “I should get back into the control room before Mr.Smith gets back.” Upon receiving an understanding nod, he walked off.

Alone, Julia whipped out both a sheet and pen. Despite hearing them almost an hour ago, Ellie's words echoed in her mind, as though fresh. It may have been against the rules, but she doubted Brian Smith would check the cameras enough to find out. And it wasn't as though she would rig the game, or anything. Given the state Ellie left in, Julia couldn't bear to let her request go unheeded.

Breathing deeply, she jotted the information down.

Chapter Text

The episode commenced on Camp Tipiskaw's entrance, as usual. Except, it was vacant.

Soon enough, however, Brian popped up from under the frame. “Thought I'd spice up this opening segment.” He snickered. Once done, he proceeded with the recap. “Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Cut to footage from last episode, starting off with Dan and Ellie's night clash. “Following Tess’ elimination, tensions continued escalating.” A clip of the latter smacking the former came. “To the point one of them even resorted to physical violence!” He chortled, before clearing his throat.

Returning to current footage, the host folded his arms with a wondering hum. “Hm… How many arguments did we have pre-challenge again?” He inquired. In turn, a montage of rapid-fire clips came.

“Fiore and Will.”

“Fiore and Hunter… Wow, for a ten-year-old, she sure has a tendency to get tangled up in drama, huh? Guess that's to be expected.”

Scenes of the challenge finally started playing.

“Grett began scheming — got to love having a season packed with conniving messes. Regardless, she and Fiore had a short exchange. To no one's surprise, the latter may consider betraying her alliance. What may have actually shocked viewers is Will perhaps entertaining the thought? Following a less than pleasant interaction with Dan.”

The following clips were blurred.

“And we also had some… unfortunate incidents.” He chortled, and the scene with the ambulance was shown. “Due to one of them, Ellie had to be taken out of the competition to receive medical attention.”

It returned to Brian Smith. “With that, we're down to eight players — half what we started with.” He smirked with a quirked eyebrow, wagging his finger. “These eight have been through much hardship to get this far. So, whose hard work will ultimately amount to nothing this time?”

Grinning, he flung up both hands. “Find out, on this episode of… Disventure Camp: OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!” The scene faded just as his cackling commenced.

___________

—Confessional :Hunter—

Wrapping his arms around himself, he sighed dourly. Not as miserable as Ally or Tess’ departures made him, but affected nonetheless.

“I may not have known Ellie that well. In fact, what interactions we had were mostly confrontational. But she was Tess’ friend… so I can't help but feel guilty over what happened to her…” He confessed, running both hands down his face and exhaling profusely.

—Confessional :Grett—

Clutching her dress hem, she spoke with distress. “I… can't imagine what must have happened to Ellie. How will Gabby take it?” She teared up a little; however, she rubbed her eyes clean.

Inhaling and exhaling to compose herself, she tightened her countenance. “I… can't dwell on it right now…” Curling her fists, she shot the lens a fierce stare. “After what happened, Ellie and Gabby deserve at least some of that prize. So, I'll try my best to win it…”

—Confessional :Tom—

He applied light pressure on his bandaged ankle, so as to check how it would affect him. Immediately, he winced, withdrawing his hand. “Yup… still going to smart for a few days at least, if not the remainder of this competition.”

He sighed. “At least it didn't end as badly for me as it could have. I almost wound up like Ellie…” Averting his gaze, he shuddered. “And Blake, of all people, is the reason I didn't meet that fate…”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Disturbed, she hummed. “This season's… a complete dumpster fire, a vile one at that…” But she shook her head, inwardly berating herself for wasting time on that.

Reinstating her priorities, she lifted a finger. “Anyway, I've thought about Grett's offer. Although Ellie is no longer there to make us a trio, Grett's points are still sound.” Smirking, she added. “Besides, this incident may drive Grett to adopt a more aggressive playstyle. Meaning, even if I'm exposed for double-crossing those jerks, they'll be more inclined to gun for her first still.”

—End Confessional—

The firepit remained lit narrowly, soft crackling lingering. Its wavering flames resulted in barely propagating illumination. Outwardly placid, belying overwhelming baggage.

Zipping sounded. Sneaking out of her tent, Fiore glanced back inside to ensure those suckers — Will, Blake, Alessandro and Dan — slumbered still. Fortunately for her, none showed signs of stirring. Mischievousness glinting in her orbs, she scuttled across the campsite — cautious not to produce much noise.

I better not get busted over her letting out some screech, or something. She thought, unzipping the opening to the opposite tent. Peering in, she perceived no activity. Good. She tip-toed over to the only other female still in this game — did they want to make up for the lower amount of men in the newest main season, or something? Regardless, she reached over, plucking the sleeve once.

Jolted awake, Grett thankfully regained composure before she made any sudden loud sound.

Squinting to discern Fiore within her tent's near complete darkness, she managed to make out her pointing outside. Apprehending her message, she nodded. Fiore scampered outside, prompting her to follow.

A chill midnight breeze hit them, as Grett could finally stand up. Arching her eyebrow, she gazed down at the girl. “So, what exactly did you wake me up for?” She quizzed.

Crossing her arms, Fiore cut to the chase. “With Ellie gone, it's only a matter of time before the rest of you are gone. I know I'll be next on the chopping block. So, I'm accepting your offer…”

Grett smirked. “Good choice…” She trailed off, something occurring to her. “Head to the opposite end of the clearing. I have some ideas I'd like us to confer over, so we may as well do so now. I'll meet you there in a bit, just got to do something real quick.” She assured.

Though wary, Fiore agreed. “Fine. I'll give you five minutes.” With that, she walked off, leaving her alone.

Grett tilted her head back toward the tent that ten-year-old had come from, folding her arms with a smirk. But upon taking her first step toward it, she was interrupted.

“Wait…” A whisper halted her in her tracks, nearly making her yelp. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw none other than Julia rustling toward her. Opening her mouth to question it, she got shushed. “We can't chat. Just make sure you don't mention seeing me here anywhere near the host. In fact, refrain from bringing it up at any point that would be a major scene. I'll be screwed if he finds out about this…” Handing her a folded sheet, the intern hurried off.

Although perturbed, Grett unfolded the paper regardless. Skimming over its contents, her orbs soon dilated, her jaw gradually dropping with every sentence she read. Upon reaching its last word, she stood there for several seconds, befuddled…

Until it registered. Her grip upon the sheet tightened, creasing its sides. Containing herself, she crumpled it into a tight ball, concealing it in her clenched fist.

Stalking up to the tent, which Fiore thankfully left unzipped, she went inside. Moving over to a certain brickhouse, she clamped his mouth shut in preparation. “Wake up,” she hissed in his ear. Sure enough, her precaution proved life-saving — as her hand muffled a gasp that might have woken the others otherwise. “Let's cut to the chase. I know how you are being excluded by the main trio in your alliance. And I want to chat, follow me,” she whispered.

Once Grett withdrew her hand, Will gazed up — mind still sluggish from getting roused mid-slumber, as well as heavy from what had transpired. Normally, he would have repudiated such an offer. Hell, he may have even intentionally emitted noise to awake the rest. But that conversation with Dan echoed in his mind — specifically, these words, Remember, it's just the game we signed up for.

Swallowing down his reservations, he gave a reluctant nod. The two made their way outside. Unbeknownst to them, however, a particular model unfastened an eye once their backs were turned.

—Confessional :Will—

Slouching remorsefully, he twiddled his thumbs. “I… know it may be underhanded. But… well, in season one, me, Nick, Lill and Ashley all got eliminated so quickly. And, in All-Stars, Ashley wound up getting booted because of Jake's drama, after she tried her hardest to help him improve… I… have to play the game more…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“So, the something you were referring to was fetching Will?” Fiore hissed, equal parts irked and incredulous once they met her on the opposing end of the clearing. Really? Several minutes loitering there, with temperatures low and only the weak moonlight to make things slightly visible, for this?! “I'm starting to rethink things.”

Embracing himself, the cowardly giant frowned. “Why is Fiore here?” He questioned.

Interposing herself between them, Grett held up a hand — signaling for them to hush up. “Now, now. Let me explain.” Ascertaining their willingness to remain quiet and listen, she cocked her head to focus on one of them first. “Will, I happened to overhear your chat with Fiore yesterday morning.” She informed him. “What she told you about both of you most likely being nothing but extra votes to the other three? I'm sorry to say, but that's most likely the case…”

A shiver shot up Will's spine. Although he had slowly begun wondering whether that may actually be the case by himself — as much as it pained him — hearing someone else claim that discomfort him. “Y-Yeah… I do feel left out sometimes. But… I do tend to get sensitive at times. That could be the case here, too.”

Rolling her eyes, Fiore went to take a jab at him. However, Grett slapped a palm over her mouth — they couldn't afford to play around.

“I can tell you're unsure. Deep down, you know I'm right,” Grett insisted. “Don't resort to self-deprecation just to avoid confronting the truth. Come on, think for a moment. Have you ever really, I don't know, gotten a say in who to vote for?” As he went to answer, she cut him off. “Even if you never tried suggesting a target directly, did they ever take into account your thoughts on the matter?”

Recalling how a specific individual — one dressed in mostly purple — handled his hesitation to vote for Tess, the meek brickhouse diverted his eyes. Back then, his brain rationalized it as the nerd merely helping him make sound choices. Now? Uncertainty deluged him.

Repressing an accomplished grin, Grett dealt the finishing blow. “Would you rather face the harsh truth, or later regret letting yourself be strung along? I mean, I doubt Ashley would feel negatively about you… but don't you think she'll be disheartened to see yet another chance to improve things at the farm be squandered so easily?” She expounded.

Clenching his fists, he drew in a sharp intake of air, then exhaled softly. “F-Fine…” He concurred at last. “I'm in… But… can we not target Blake first? I know it may sound dumb, but I just can't target him immediately.”

Grett chuckled mirthlessly. “Well, you're in luck. While Tom will likely still want to target Blake, I myself do have another person I want gone.” The hiss lacing her voice didn't go unnoticed.

Just then, Fiore swatted her hand off her mouth. “First, I remember agreeing to think about allying with you and perhaps Ellie. I don't remember Will being part of the equation. Second, what's gotten you so revolted, anyway?”

Expression hardening, she set her hands on her hips, proceeding. “First, because with Ellie gone, we'd have to take Hunter or Tom with us to the finale otherwise. Not to mention, getting only you to flip would mean we'd be looking at a tiebreaker.” She narrowed her eyes at Fiore. “And if they happened to find out about your betrayal, what would stop them from targeting you? It would better the odds of whoever we targeted.”

Wincing over that prospect, Fiore relented. “That's valid, I suppose…” Scoffing, she accepted the hesitant handshake Will offered.

“Good…” Still stern, Grett finally uncurled her bunched fist, revealing the sheet, now crushed into a ball. Unfurling it, she passed it to Fiore — with Will sidling up to check it out as well. “Before losing consciousness, Ellie apparently whispered some stuff to an intern for them to relay. They passed by the campsite just before I went to wake Will, and gave me that note.”

Both exchanged glances, yet perused it nonetheless.

I figure Dan will try and hide his involvement — the bastard he is. So, I'm having the truth passed on, one way or another.

He stumbled into me during today's challenge, and got bitchy. Once I told him off, he accidentally revealed he had orchestrated Tess’ elimination. As though meant as some karmic retribution for me. I bet he sees what happened to me the same way.

His words obviously made me snap, and I began giving him a well-deserved earful. However, that must have attracted that… that wolf. His bullshit drove me to accidentally draw that animal to our location. Dan didn't warn me of its approach, despite facing the way it came from. He just bolted away, intentionally leaving me to get mauled. By the time I finally heard it, it was too late to escape…

“Dan… he… he did what?” Will stammered, baffled. Neither was taken aback by the first paragraph — after all, being on the same alliance as that nerd, both saw him push for them to target Tess. But that second paragraph? It appalled him. “How could he… do something like this?”

“Figured there was something up with that nerd,” Fiore remarked, keeping her nonchalant tone. “Even if we were on different teams throughout the pre-merge, it's clear he was getting angrier and angrier at Ellie each day.” She coughed. “Not that the gingerhead didn't provoke him…”

Seething, Grett snatched the sheet back. “While Ellie definitely could have been confrontational, what Dan did was monstrous,” Grett insisted. “I want him gone…”

Folding her arms, Fiore quirked a brow. “How about we discuss how to go about this?” She suggested, snapping her back to focus. “We won't be able to take him down — or succeed — if we don't plan how to go about this.”

Acknowledging that point, Grett simmered down. Rubbing her temples lightly for a second to decompress, she nodded. “Right. To secure a majority, we should pretend to be on Hunter and Tom's side for a bit. We only need you two to fake sticking with the other three for this round. Once we vote Dan off, we'll be able to proceed however we'd like.”

“So… we won't need to gun for Blake immediately after?” Will interjected hopefully. Despite feeling left out, he appreciated the surfer showing him the ropes, in a way — no matter how much playing the game could hurt, or the ulterior motives behind said help.

Striding over, Grett patted his shoulder reassuringly. “While Tom may want Blake out, that's exactly why we should keep the latter around. With him here, Tom's anger will keep him distracted.” She stated, before regarding both firmly. “We'll just need to determine exactly how to get you both ‘integrated into the alliance’ — so listen up.”

Unbeknownst to them, their entire cover had gotten blown already. Eavesdropping on their exchange, their ensuing plotting barely registered to him. Camouflaged amidst murk and vegetation, he had garnered sufficient intel. Thus, he scuttled back to camp.

—Confessional :Will—

He scratched the back of his head. “Guess I'm really going through with betraying someone…” He lamented. “Ashley, if you're watching this, I promise I'm doing my best to win — for you.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

“So… now I have to work with Will, huh?” Taking a sharp breath, she forced herself to scrounge up some semblance of an upside to this arrangement. “Well… if things go well, at least I may be able to get rid of Hunter soon. That would be neat…”

—Confessional :Grett—

Her glare seemed to pierce the lens. “Mark my words. Dan is going down for what he did.” She vowed.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

The model clutched either side of his head. “This is bad… really bad…” Resting both hands on his lap, he sighed. “Just like that, we're now going to be in the minority. With how much Tom dislikes Blake, I doubt he'd listen… And Hunter probably won't either, after Grett tells him about that letter…”

Setting a palm on the stump, he held onto his elbow with the other.“Yes… I did manage to overhear its contents.” He averted his gaze. “While we were heading back to camp, Blake confirmed the wolf was drawn away from him and Tom by shouting, clearly Ellie’s. It… would make sense for it to be her screaming at Dan. And him leaving her… well, she likely wouldn't have helped him either.” Looking up, he narrowed his gaze. “The exact way it was worded? Clearly meant to villainize him…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“Will? Fiore?” Alessandro called, approaching both as they lounged on those logs flanking an unlit firepit. Pretending to overlook how blatantly tense one of them grew, he proceeded. “Could you both watch over things around camp? Dan, Blake and I are going on a stroll — after what happened yesterday, a little alone time will do us some good.”

A spotless blue expanse hung overhead that morning. Its bright sun beamed down upon a mostly quiet campsite. Within their tent, Blake and Dan were just beginning to rouse — their groans and yawns reaching the remaining three's ears.

“And why can't we come?” Fiore questioned. “I mean, we're in this alliance together, aren't we?” She nudged the brickhouse sat beside her lightly, her emphasis clearly rhetorical.

Well, her wanting to ensure Will doesn't return to us isn't as bad as her suspecting anything. The model looked on the bright side, retaining his clueless act. “You are. But Blake is probably still shaken from nearly getting attacked himself. And I think what Ellie did to Dan is still affecting him a bit. A walk in the woods might help them clear their heads — I can keep both company…”

“What are you three talking about?” Blake quizzed, rubbing his bleary orbs. Upon refocusing, however, he noted the subtle motion of the model's eyes toward him. Sensing how important this was, he played along. To feign blowing the cobwebs away, he yawned loudly, then blinked twice. “Oh, yeah. I remember now. Sorry, but Dan and I could really use some time for ourselves — and Alessandro knows us both well enough by now, so it's more efficient for him to accompany us. Hope you understand.”

Dissembling his dejection, Will strained on a smile. Giving a thumbs-up with both hands, he nodded. “Sure! Eh… I wouldn't want to intrude on your business…” He agreed, his jittery tone rather conspicuous. However, a look from the model dissuaded the surfer from calling attention to it.

Staggering out their tent, Dan pressed a hand to his temple, groggy. Before he could even speak, Alessandro draped an arm over his shoulder fondly, bringing him along. With Blake in tow, they evanesced amidst vegetation.

Once said trio was out of earshot, Fiore folded her arms, scoffing. “Are they even trying to be subtle about excluding us anymore?” She pointed out, as Grett exited the other tent, bringing along Tom and Hunter, both glaring warily.

—Confessional :Will—

He massaged his shoulder somberly. “I guess Blake really does have more important friends now…” He bemoaned, but shook his head. “Why am I even complaining?” He berated himself. “I'm the one going behind his back and defecting…”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Shaking her head, she sneered. “Does that model think we're stupid? Clearly, he just wants to go plot with both his actual allies yet again.” She smirked. “Oh well, it will just make his dumbfounded expression all the sweeter once Dan goes tonight. Though, I'll hopefully get to send Blake packing soon for… personal reasons.”

Another thought wiped that grin off her face. “Though, needing to ally with Hunter — even if we're just stringing him and Tom along — will still be a pain in the ass.”

—End Confessional—

Gaze switching between the other duo and Grett, Hunter voiced their discontent. “Excuse me? You told us you had something urgent to discuss with us. Why are those two here?” His vitriolic tone instantly got on Fiore's nerves, as she clenched her fists in response.

However, Grett wedged herself between them, nipping this potential altercation in the bud. “Now, let's not fight.” Although Fiore begrudgingly backed off, the other retained his aloof stance. “This is our chance to continue advancing in this game. Would you really want to show Tess you've learned nothing by letting anger prevent you from succeeding?” She inquired sternly.

Lifting a finger, he opened his mouth to counter. However, an epiphany struck him. Clenching his teeth, he averted his gaze, arms folded. He couldn't refute her logic.

Arching an eyebrow, Tom chimed in. “And what opportunity are you referring to?” Surveying the child and brickhouse, even he could infer it. But attaining confirmation couldn't hurt.

Cutting Grett off this time, Fiore rolled her eyes. “What do you think, genius?” She snarked. “It's obvious Alessandro, Dan and Blake are really the main trio trying to run this game. And we'd rather not be pawns they can just discard at the final 5 and 4.” Stepping on the foot of the big guy beside her to ensure his focus was set, she narrowed her gaze up at him. “Isn't that right?”

Though despondent, Will nodded. “Yeah… those three… their primary concern is clearly themselves.” He conceded, holding back a miserable expulsion of air.

Orbs flitting over to the scaredy giant, Hunter's face tightened again. “Oh, so after voting both Ally and Tess off, you finally want to actually work with me?” He spat.

Stepping forth before anyone could answer, Fiore tsked — her young mind couldn't tolerate this nonsense. “Your asses are both on the chopping block as well — and the blade is certainly aiming for you two first. So, watch it.” She told him off, holding no punches.

“You little-”

Clearing her throat to cut him off, Grett interjected. “I'll ask you again. You think Ally and Tess would be proud of seeing you letting your resentment cloud your judgment once more?" She reminded.

Inhaling sharply, Hunter relented. “Fine…” He groaned. “This better be worth it, though.”

“We… um… do have some information…” Will stammered. Receiving a discreet wink from Grett, he sighed. “I feel guilty telling on him like this… but… Dan is who we really should be worrying about.” At Tom and Hunter's puzzlement, he carried on. “He… is the one who pushed for Tess’ elimination.”

At that revelation, Hunter's eyes widened. “You mean, it was Dan who got her booted?” He blurted, caught off-guard. That nerd had barely crossed his mind, in terms of who to most blame for Tess’ departure.

Skeptical, Tom frowned. “I thought Blake called the shots.”

Fiore shrugged. “Maybe he's gone back to doing so. But for that elimination? Whatever you two did to him within that simulation, it really shook him for a bit. Dan was the one who decided to have us target Tess.” She expounded.

“Right…” Tom trailed off, discomfitted over that reminder. Attempting to brush it off, he switched subjects. “He's still not as dangerous as Blake, though. I'm sure.”

“Actually, there's something even more upsetting you need to know…” Will admitted. Curling his fists, he went on. “Before we returned to the campsite last night, Dan… he… gloated to the rest of us over how he had tricked Ellie. He… he bragged that, upon picking up on the faint howling from that wolf, it was way too easy to bait Ellie into ranting, then just book it out of there — with that wolf coming and doing what it did to her.”

Hunter and Tom traded bewildered stares. Yet… neither truly knew Dan enough to insist he wouldn't pull this kind of move. With how temperamental that guy had shown himself capable of getting, especially when it came to Ellie, those claims didn't sound so far-fetched…

“How about this…” Grett commenced, drawing their attention. “Let's see how today's challenge goes. If neither Blake nor Dan wins immunity today, we'll just discuss who to eliminate before the ceremony.”

Exchanging glances, Tom and Hunter ultimately nodded. “I suppose that's fair…” the former remarked.

“Excellent.” She smirked assuredly, smacking her. “As long as Fiore and Will can feign allegiance to them until the host begins reading the votes, not even any advantage they might have will save them.”

Orbs drifting aside, Will sighed.

—Confessional :Hunter—

He threw his head up, exhaling profusely. Lowering it again, he spoke. “As much as I dislike Fiore and Will, Grett is right that this is our only option… And I suppose staying so resentful for so long may be somewhat extreme…” He narrowed his gaze. “Fiore is still a pipsqueak, though.”

—Confessional :Tom—

Pumping a fist, he smiled wearily. “Guess holding on did pay off. Finally, I'm two steps ahead of Blake…” Quietness pervaded the next few moments. He hummed. “Weird… I'm happy about it, but not elated like I should be…”

—Confessional :Grett—

Grinning, she crossed her arms. “Oh… Dan is in for one nasty, but well-deserved shock tonight…” She giggled.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Can't wait to see the look on Blake's face once he finds himself outnumbered, as I did when Alec got eliminated…” She trailed off, that memory saddening her still. However, shaking her head, she banged the stump with her fist. “But unlike me, he won't find a way out of this…”

—Confessional :Will—

Averting his gaze, he expelled a miserable puff of air. “What Dan did was terrible, don't get me wrong. But lying about it to make him look even worse? I just feel so… dirty…” He smacked himself lightly. “No, I've got to get it together.” He bunched his fists tightly, yet that reluctance stuck to his face.

—End Confessional—

Upon reaching a rock sizable enough for one of them, the trio halted. “So, what's up with the impromptu meeting?” Blake inquired, hands set on his hips. “Also, was it just me, or was… Will hiding something with how nervous he seemed?”

Offering his purple-coded buddy the seat, Alessandro regarded both gravely. “That's because he is. Him and Fiore. They… they have betrayed us…” His grim words jolted Dan out of his sleepy state.

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed. “How? Why?”

Taking a deep breath, Alessandro recounted. “I woke up in the middle of the night, and saw Will follow Grett out the tent. So, I snuck after them and hid. The two, along with Fiore, agreed to an alliance, and plan on siding with Tom and Hunter for now in order to take us out, before discarding them, too.”

Blake huffed. “Great, now I'm completely screwed.”

Hands behind his back, the model grimaced. “Actually, you're not the only one at immediate risk.” He tilted his head, sending Dan an apologetic gaze, addressing him. “They are gunning for you, too. Apparently… Grett blames you for what happened to Ellie, and is out for vengeance…”

Mouth falling agape, Dan felt as though his whole world had come crashing down. No… This couldn't be veracious. He had just endured so much bullshit from Ellie. Yet, just as he could finally focus wholly on playing this game, another's spite painted a target on his back?!

Tearing up, he sniffled. “I… I guess I should start looking for an idol, or something…” He stuttered, hiccups accumulating on his throat — every moment making them harder to repress. “I'll… I'll go by myself. No need to come with me. I… I can handle myself. And no worries. I… I will make sure not to let them figure out we know what they're up to — if… if that even ends up mattering…” He scurried off, orbs leaking.

Normally, Alessandro would rush after his friend instantly. But as much as it pained him to refrain from doing so, this was his chance to talk privately with a certain surfer, who regarded him worriedly.

“You're going to bring up the idol, aren't you?” Blake surmised.

Approaching him, the model grabbed his hands. Sighing, he nodded somberly. “Look… I understand not wanting to use it on someone other than yourself…” He stated. “But, please, if you win immunity today, consider saving Dan… Besides… As long as he's here, Grett will remain focused on him, not you. If she's the one pulling the strings now, keeping Dan around longer may give you more time…”

The loudspeakers burst to life before the surfer could respond. “Attention, final eight! Report to the clearing in fifteen minutes!”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Disrupt the show and hang high. Is the idol worth that price?” He studied his slip, before wilting. Sighing, he stashed it away again.

He hugged himself. “I'm not proud of trying to tug at Blake's heartstrings, especially since he's finally been opening up more to me recently.” He sighed. “But I don't want Dan to go…” He took a deep breath, averting his gaze. “So much for coming onto this show wanting to improve my chances at fame…”

—Confessional :Blake—

“I… suppose I shouldn't be surprised Will defected…” He admitted, gaze downcast. “Even so… this is bad. It's clear Alessandro is worried for Dan, given his plea.” Shaking his head, he lifted his head. “I'll just have to decide what to do after the challenge…”

—End Confessional—

___________

All eight remaining players emerged into the clearing. This time, however, something new awaited them there. Constructed seemingly overnight, they were greeted with a stage — reminiscent of the structure featured in episode six of All-Stars… Well, sort of. It lacked any paintwork. Even from afar, its stability seemed dubious.

Dots connecting within her mind, Fiore frowned. “No… They cannot be serious…” She muttered, before raising her voice. “This again? No, it can't be. There aren't even any teams at this stage!”

Waltzing in, Brian Smith shattered her ardent denial with a chuckle. “Oh, but it can be…” Outstretching his arms, he smirked. “And it is…”

Picking up on how much Dan trembled, Alessandro wrapped an arm around his shoulder to comfort him. Even though he remained desolate, the nerd gave a small, appreciative smile in return. Despite his seemingly inevitable downfall approaching, at least he still had a friend in his corner.

“How will it even work?” Blake questioned, arms crossed. “Will each of us have to do a solo for you to evaluate?” He furrowed his brow. “Won't this just be a way worse version of the musical challenge?”

Twiddling his thumbs, Will fretted. “I'm not sure I can handle the spotlight like that…” He admitted, massaging his elbow. “I mean, potentially messing up for everyone to see and make fun of? Sounds terrible.”

With an eye-roll, the host waved a dismissive hand at the brickhouse. “That's too bad. Deal with it.” Smirking, he addressed the surfer next. “As for your concerns, don't worry. I've got just the idea to spice things up. First, you will all be grouped into pairs — would be boring to just have you all plan and perform alone. This, of course, means two people will get immunity tonight.” Holding up a finger, his grin widened. “Second, this won't be structured like prior musical challenges. This time, you'll be engaging in a battle of the bands of sorts.”

Fiore scowled with revulsion.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“I better not get stuck with some stupid wimp who'll make us lose first…” She snarled. “I may be completely safe for now, but given physical challenges are not my forte, I want to take the chance to do well this time.” She stomped her foot. “So, stupid, pasty losers like Hunter shut the fuck up and quit calling me a liability, even though I'm the one who won Purple Team two challenges…”

—Confessional :Blake—

Slumping in his stump, he groaned. “Knowing this show, I'm going to be stuck with him, aren't I?”

—End Confessional—

Brian Smith upraised his arms, spreading them apart, as though preparing to embrace whatever mess he hoped to induce. His smile broadening, he gleefully announced :

“And the pairs are…”

All eyes were trained on him. Although to varying degrees, every camper was at least somewhat anxious. Amongst this final eight? Each had at least one fellow they didn't want to associate with.

“Hunter and Grett…”

Exchanging glances, both shrugged neutrally.

“Alessandro and Dan…”

The model flashed a smile to the nerd. Even with stress, sorrow and dread whirling through his mind, Dan couldn't help but reciprocate slightly, solaced. As for those four players whose names hadn't been called yet, they sighed. No matter what, it would be awkward at best.

Aware there was no point in dragging this out much longer, Blake clapped loudly, declaring :

“Fiore and Will! Tom and Blake!”

Crossing her arms with a huff, Fiore narrowed her eyes, staring daggers toward the brickhouse. “You better not fumble…” She snarled.

“Hm… same to you…” He awkwardly retorted, shifting slightly.

Blake let out a long sigh. “Look…” He addressed Tom, who scowled his way. “I know we hate each other's guts and all. And that won't change anytime soon. But can we agree not to screw each other over today.” With some reluctance, he proffered a hand.

Though his glare didn't falter, Tom eventually shook it slowly. “Fine… just for the challenge…”

—Confessional Blake:—

Crossing his arms nervously, he furrowed his brow. “Do I fully trust Tom will stick to his word? Not really. But if I fret over it, the others may catch on to the fact that Dan, Alessandro and I know of Fiore and Will's betrayal…” Propping his chin in his hand, he heaved a puff of air. “That would make using the idol, if I do use it today, much trickier…”

—Confessional :Tom—

He exhaled gruffly. “I'd normally be itching to self-sabotage, especially now that I've finally got the majority in my corner. But that would feel kind of wrong, given Blake's own animosity didn't dissuade him from helping me.” He shook his head. “Besides, I doubt we'll win either way.”

—Confessional :Dan—

Wrapping himself in a flimsy hug, he regarded the camera with a somewhat miserable look. “I don't know how Blake and Alessandro look so optimistic- well, not optimistic… Just… I don't know how they manage to keep themselves from spiraling.”

—End Confessional—

Clapping to regain their focus, Brian Smith cleared his throat. “And that's not all.” He revealed. “I have yet another surprise.”

Fiore rolled her eyes, fed up. “What now? Have the producers finally grown some brain cells and replaced you? If so, about damn time.” She snarked, prompting the host to flip her off.

“No, you unlovable, worthless, disgusting brat.” The way he uttered those words, all with that smirk plastered across his face, further aggravated her. “Instead of having my insignificant interns make up the jury, I've elected to bring back some more familiar faces…” Glancing over shoulder, toward that rickety stage, he called out. “You can come and show yourselves…”

Some gaped, as three eminent figures emerged from the structure's rear.

“Yee-haw!” A southern, female voice sounded joyfully, warming a brickhouse's fragile heart.

“Yo-yo-yo, what's up, dudes?” Another greeted, their tone ringing with a Brazilian twang.

This elicited a haughty scoff from the last special guest. “Would not be surprised if you two just burst the eardrums of all your fellow losers.” She mocked her fellow jury members, drawing eye-rolls from both. With a sassy hair-flip, she lifted her sunglasses to uncover her sharp, dark-brown orbs.

Hands on his hips, Brian Smith squinted his eyes. “I hope the three of you remember the stipulations. No divulging any information that could aid or damage anyone's game.” He admonished.

Riya waved a dismissive hand. “As if I'd care about how any of them do.” She sneered disdainfully.

Mimicking the motion of flapping lips with his hands, James rolled his eyes. “I bet you'd already be looking for any way to sabotage Connor, had he made it this far, Raya.” He accused, affronting her.

Countenance tightening imperceptibly, she yawned. “But as expected, that flop got booted super early. And so did Alec.” That remark made Fiore snarl, which didn't escape the Bollywood-turned-Hollywood actress. “Oh, so you have merged again this time? Well, congrats on not being that past main-villain who never got anything done again, I guess. Only took you, like, a year longer than me.”

Blake interjected, deadpanning. “Are you really that desperate to gloat to a ten-year-old?” Even his adversaries couldn't hold back their snickers. Riya snarled furiously.

—Confessional :Ashley—

She surveyed her surroundings with some wonder. “Wow, feels odd to do one of these again — even if I'm not competing anymore, but oh well.” Tipping her hat, she resumed speaking. “About Blake…” Her expression darkened somewhat. “Knowing he cheated on Jake and all, I certainly don't feel positively about him. But… Honestly, seeing him in person, I expected his attitude to be much worse — like, Yul, but… gay, I guess? So, I guess just normal Yul.”

—Confessional :James—

“So… yeah, trying to change Yul for the better in All-Stars didn't work. Real shame. Even with the scars, he looked very fuck-” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I thought he had a heart deep down.

—End Confessional—

Giving the contestants only a few moments to process it all, the host clapped.

“Each pair has been assigned a dressing room backstage. You'll have an hour to go through with figuring out and composing two songs. You may take breaks After that, you'll be pitted against another pair. So, two duels. And following a short break, both winners will perform whichever song they didn't utilize in Round 1.”

He gestured toward the jury members. “As for those three, they'll be free to waltz in as they please while you work. But, obviously, they're forbidden from giving any intel that could give you an advantage. So, don't even attempt to ask for it.” He pointed backstage. “Get going now.”

___________

Unstoppable
That's what we are

“Rather generic,” Grett mused, examining her own lyrics. “But I don't really have the inspiration to do anything more original…” Her expression soured. “And I'd rather not try and channel my feelings regarding last challenge into this…” She rested her arms on the desk with a sigh, heaving a sigh — as her partner loitered beside her, watching her creative process.

At that mention, Hunter averted his gaze, speaking somberly. “I… may not have gotten along with Ellie for what little time we had to interact. But… I feel awful, too. She was Tess’ friend. And after my mistake caused Tess’ elimination, the fact Ellie got out the way she did makes me feel even…” He shook his head. “I… Part of me still fears Tess and Ally may look at me more negatively from now on, especially if I return empty-handed…” He conceded. “I just feel so stupid for falling for letting Blake use me to take control of the game, and what Dan did…”

Contemplating him, Grett felt sympathy well up within her. Eventually, she got off her chair to grip his shoulder. “I may not know Tess and Ally too much, but remember how much you and the latter argued in All-Stars — while you were there, anyway? You sorted out your differences once all was said and done, didn't you?”

Hunter nodded.

“Exactly. Despite quarreling so much, you smoothed things over eventually — you stayed together.” She reminded. “Why wouldn't that be the case again?”

That improved his mood; however, self-doubt still creeped in. He had been in the wrong about some stuff back then, too. From his perspective, he'd blundered even worse this season. Not to mention, his mistakes had dragged Tess down, too. Could they truly excuse all that?

Observing his uncertainty, Grett grasped his hands. “Remember how Ally and Tess briefly blanked you during the finale after you kissed the former when she was booted, despite telling both you wanted to wait until after the game ended to discuss your situation?” Attaining his gaze again, she resumed. “In the end, you talked to them, and they forgave you. Even if they are hurt, I see no reason they wouldn't hear you out again.”

He met her gaze, hopeful. “You… really think so?”

In response, came a resolute nod. “I know so.” Releasing his hands, she retook her seat. “Now, let's get back to composing.” A smirk crossed her face. “I mean, imagine going up against Fiore and Will, only for them to immediately win because we failed to have something ready in time~” She teased.

“Oh, that brat isn't getting a win that easily,” Hunter guffawed, smacking a fist into his palm. “Let's get to it!”

—Confessional :Grett—

“Don't get me wrong, I'm still going with my plan to take Fiore and Will to the finale — as they're both the easiest to beat.”

Her face softened, forming a content smile.

“But I remember how lucky I myself was that Gabby reached out — despite our baggage from season one — and helped me free myself from Yul's abuse. Sure, Hunter's predicament is nowhere near as harsh. But, given I'm planning on dropping him and Tom once we reach the final 5, I may at least help him out with this.”

—End Confessional—

___________

You think I'm just what you see
Truly, I'm like the sea

“That's really good…” Dan complimented, staving off his apprehension as best he could. Eyeing those lines, he hummed. “Never took you for much of a lyricist, but these are certainly better than what I'd pen alone.”

Flattered, Alessandro ran a hand through his hair, somewhat bashful. “Oh…yeah. Well, despite my main interest being in acting, I've always had a fascination for writing, too.” He reminisced. “Though, making time for it can be… difficult at times.”

Humming thoughtfully, the nerd couldn't help but wonder. “Sorry if I come off as inquisitive, but… You know, despite Carnival of Chaos still not having wrapped up yet, a good chunk of the first half was already out by the time we were invited here.” Pressing both hands together behind his back, he continued. “When watching you in that episode 3 scene, you seemed so… I guess untouchable, would be the word? Like, way too good to associate with average people much, I guess…”

“Oh that… Well, given I've always wanted to get into the acting industry, I've been trying to hone the skills such a career demands.” Alessandro stroked his temple with a light chuckle. “On top of that, I figured putting on an appealing display would further incentivize producers to follow through with their promise to allow me the chance to compete.” He sighed. “I… hope the me you've been seeing here doesn't feel underwhelming to you…”

Shaking his head, Dan held up both hands. “Don't worry. I much prefer the person I've gotten to know these past few days. The one who's always been there for me.” Pupils lowering, he discharged a sorrowful sigh. “Even if… we may not get to hang out here for much longer…”

Finding this sight heart-wrenching, the model enfolded him in a warm embrace. “Hey… don't give up. Let's try our hardest to win immunity. And if we can't do that, we can still try and find some advantage — the host usually gives us an hour or two before the ceremony for a reason, after all.” He assured, cheeks warming up. Whether or not these feelings were romantic, he treasured him all the same. “Also, I know about the whole Ellie thing… Somehow, Grett caught wind of it…” Feeling his buddy tense, he swiftly continued. “But I'm certain you weren't as malicious as you were made out to be…”

Taken aback briefly, Dan soon reciprocated the gesture. An appreciative grin came upon his lips. “Thank you for seeing the best in me, Alessandro…” However, even with this gratitude, his countenance soon faltered, worry returning to his orbs.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I'm really thankful for Alessandro's support, even though he knows what happened, I am…” He assured viewers. Drawing both legs close and atop his stump, he sighed miserably. “But I still feel I'll be mocked online all the same, if I wind up falling today. They'll probably mock me over ranking only one placement higher than in season one…

And given what happened to Ellie, even if I didn't actively cause that incident?”

He shuddered, dreading how much worse public perception may get.

—Confessional :Alessandro —

The model emitted a deep breath, conflicted. “I feel bad about leaving Dan in the dark like this. But I promised not to divulge it unless Dan directly asked about it. Besides, if I told him without Blake present — and the latter found out before the ceremony — that might make him distrust me and be less willing to play it…”

—End Confessional—

___________

I hate you so much
Most amid the whole bunch

“So, I suppose bitching at each other is still fine, even in this so-called truce, as long as it's in song form,” Tom grumbled, squinting at those lyrics. “Also, the feeling is mutual.”

Taking a long breath to quell his irritation over that remark, Blake tilted his head his way. “Just pushing those emotions into song-form. I'm hoping it will aid the quality, or something.” He reasoned, penning another three verses. “Venting makes me feel slightly better, too- Hey!” He exclaimed, as the other snatched his sheet and pen.

Jotting down on it, Tom huffed. “If you get to shove all your feelings into this, I have the right to do so, as well.” He asserted, before dropping both back onto the desk and folding his arms.

Blake snarled, about to lambast him over potentially ruining his progress. But his rage receded once his rage flitted down onto what Tom had scribbled — proper verses, to be exact. Appraising them, he eventually snapped his fingers. “Actually… what you wrote does fit with what I wrote.” He commented. Gaze flicking back to Tom, he tapped his pen on wood. “Let's take turns. I write some lines, then you write some more — and so on, so forth. That way, you can also ‘vent’, too. Deal?”

Blinking with some shock over that proposition, Tom nodded.

___________

Didn't know I'd be doing unpaid labor here. Fiore thought spitefully, drumming her fingers on the wooden surface. She tried conjuring up some lyrics within her mind, yet infuriating background noise hindered her.

Ashley smooched her timid boyfriend, sending a blush spreading over his cheeks. “You don't know just how proud I am of you. Me and the rest of my family back at the farm. Watching you successfully make this far has been a joy.” She extolled, embracing him.

The brickhouse wiped his eyes, needing to swallow back happy tears. “Thanks, Ashley. That truly means a lot to me. I'll… I'll try my best not to disappoint you!” He swore.

Patting his head, she laughed. “You could get booted today, and I'd still be congratulating you once you get back.” She pecked him on the lips. “Don't forget, I'll always love you-”

At last, their gazes drifted over to Fiore. Driven into utter rage, she scrawled down what might as well have been gibberish, considering how squiggly her writing became.

Frowning, Ashley expelled a deep breath. “Guess I should go. That girl doesn't seem to be having much success on her own, and I'd hate for you to be forced to perform whatever madness she's coming up with.” She teased, booping her boyfriend's nose. Pressing a longer kiss to his lips, she headed off, as he waved her goodbye.

—Confessional :Will—

Cheeks still flushed, he heaved a dreamy expulsion of air. “That was really the motivation, and reassurance, I needed.” Balling his fists, he got a spirited glint in his eyes. “I'll do my best to get as far as I can…”

Growing calmer, he rubbed his elbow, a somewhat remorseful look coming onto his countenance.

“...And perhaps try reconciling with a certain someone?”

—End Confessional—

Gingerly, Will picked up the paper. Squinting to discern those messy lines, he winced. Not really lyrics. Just barely legible rants. “I… don't think the judges will take a liking to this…” He cautiously critiqued.

Unfortunately, this effort not to trigger Fiore was futile. Tearing the sheet off his hands, she rent it to shreds, scattering them across the flooring. “Maybe, had you gotten off your ass and helped me, or at least kept quiet — instead of chatting with cow-blonde for nearly twenty-minutes straight — I wouldn't have lost my cool, and could have written something actually presentable!” She snapped, striking the tabletop.

Hearing those insults directed toward his beloved, Will instantly had the urge to get defensive. However, he inhaled and exhaled to compose himself. If the spat they had yesterday morning was any indication, flaring up wouldn't aid matters.

“Look, I'm sorry for getting carried away. I've been missing Ashley ever since I got here, and just couldn't squander the chance to talk to her again.” He conceded, before aiming a finger toward her. “But you could stand to dial down the cruelty, you know? I mean, it's not as though this behavior even benefits you right now.”

She glowered, pointing at him. “Just- quit acting like you're not glad every time you see me in pain! My own parents never gave a flying fuck! Those bastards at the orphanage just swing those damn canes every time something doesn't go exactly the way they want!” Tears cascaded down her face. “Why should I think you — an asshole who's been bitter because he got eliminated first after costing us the challenge — may be any different?!”

“Look, I… get that I deserved to be booted first that season…” He gave her that much. “And I'm sorry for calling you a monster. But… don't you think continuously holding onto that anger will just… make escaping your misery all the harder…” He trailed off, before shaking his head. “Sorry if I'm making no sense. I… just don't see how this will help you escape the pain.”

Simmering down, Fiore averted her gaze. “It… won't…” Groaning bitterly, she took a sharp intake of air. “Let's just… get to composing properly.” She leveled a glare at him. “And this time, you're going to contribute, or so help me…”

“Fine, I will,” Will assured.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She propped her chin in her palm, sighing. “As much as it pains me to admit it, Will has a point — bitching about my predicament won't make shit stop.”

Insecurities tinged her mind, as her orbs darted to the side with some shame.

“Alec told me not to let my anger cloud my judgment… yet I've been failing at that a lot, recently.” She screened her face with her arms, letting out a wretched sigh. “When will I stop disappointing… No, quit thinking about that…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“I'm heading out for a drink,” Tom announced the moment after they penned their second song. Without awaiting an answer from the surfer, he exited the dressing room.

Exhaling, Blake reclined into his chair. At last, some respite.

“Can I have a moment?” Another voice suddenly interrupted his relaxation, cueing him to glance over his shoulder. James stood on the doorway, waving chumily. “I… have seen the last two episodes, and I'd like to give you some advice.

Despite wanting to relish his break, Blake found himself intrigued. Getting off his seat, he turned to face the influencer. “Advice regarding what, exactly?” He queried, arching an eyebrow.

Sauntering closer, James chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, when I first saw you in episode one of this season, you… reminded me of myself. Sure, I've never cheated — but I was once inconsiderate of others’ feelings, too…”

Blake nearly flinched, yet retained his firmness. “And I assume that relates to why you're approaching me, right?” He prompted.

Embracing himself, James’ voice took on a grim tone. “If you have watched All-Stars… you'll know I tried helping Yul become a better person. I saw myself in him, somehow. Obviously, I failed — he… is just the way he is, and won't change…” Shifting the topic, he gestured toward Blake. “But after those two most recent episodes, I can tell you're a different case.”

“What do you mean?” Blake quizzed, attempting to keep his tone from softening slightly.

Approaching, James set a hand on the influencer's shoulder. “I know Jake's carelessness caused you to suffer a lot. But we both know cheating wasn't right. I'm not saying you should let him or Tom walk all over you. But maybe… making amends will give you both closure.” He suggested, his words sticking.

Amplified via a megaphone, Brian Smith's voice rang out from outside. “Attention, campers! Your hour is up! Present yourselves before the stage! Time to see who has gotten musical chops, and who will flop!”

“I wish you and Tom good luck,” James said, then left.

___________

Atop the wooden platform, Brian Smith looked down upon our eight remaining players. By now, his cocksure smirk was really wearing on them. Something that didn't faze him. In fact, it only made his smile widen into a grin.

“And now, time for this season's musical number ensemble. Pairs will compete in the same order they are nominated.” This declaration evoked some eye-rolls amongst the soon-to-be performers. “The first duel will pit Hunter and Grett against…” Elevating a hand – its index finger held up — he dragged this out for a bit, trying to make a show of it for ratings.

Patience fraying even further, Fiore snarled. “Just spit it out already!” She snapped. Sure, she might begin considering how antagonizing others needlessly wouldn't help her here; however, this host had to purposefully be going out of his way to piss them off at this point.

Scrunching up his expression, Brian's grin turned sardonic. Intent on punishing her, he pointed at her and Will. “You two!”

Folding his arms, Hunter proved incapable of not making a snide remark. “Oh, this will be too easy.” He bragged, high-fiving a less self-assured Grett.

An irate flush suffused Fiore's face — the host found it priceless.

Beside her, determination filled Will. “Don't worry, Fiore. Let's show those two they shouldn't underestimate us!” He encouraged, much to his partner's surprise.

But she nodded, arching an eyebrow. “Sure…”

—Confessional :Hunter—

Smirking confidently, he boasted. “Even though we're technically allies now, putting that scheming twerp in her place will be satisfying. Grett and I are basically guaranteed a spot in the last duel for immunity.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Will's behavior has changed a bit. He's less insufferable now, to be honest.” Scoffing, she stared daggers toward the lens. “And I agree with his suggestion.” She slapped the side of the stump with conviction. “Let's show that pasty flop who's really at the top!”

—End Confessional—

___________

Minutes later, everyone else had been sent backstage to wait their turn.

Our jury members lounged at a long table, its placement allowing them a perfect view of the incoming spectacle.

Riya filed her nails, her sunglasses screening her orbs again. “Their performances better not be ear-shattering. I only came here to grace viewers with my presence, not to leave with my ears ringing for months.” She fixed up her immaculate hairstyle.

James couldn't resist the impulse to throw shade. “If it's any consolation, I doubt any of them will be stage-destroying.” Riya gripped her rasp angrily upon hearing that.

That claim induced Ashley to contemplate the structure closely, rousing concern. “Um… this seems much shoddier than what we dealt with last season.” She mentioned.

“Not our problem,” Riya replied bluntly.

Emerging from behind the right curtain, Brian Smith pranced to the center. “Welcome to Camp Tipiskaw's second musical showcase!”

Julia and John frantically set up microphones, stands and everything else all competitors would utilize — rushing off once done.

“Starting with… *Unstoppable*! By Grett and Hunter.”

Once Brian evanesced into the left, both aforementioned individuals strode over. Grett selected a guitar, whereas Hunter stood before the drums and wielded both sticks. Exchanging nods, they commenced.

Unstoppable
That's we are

Hunter struck the tom-toms energetically, imagining how pissed a certain brat would be at his triumph for motivation.

Strumming her guitar deftly, Grett sang her solo section.

Always lasting long
Soon, I'll be at the top
Where I belong
Discard your statistics
I am the most strategic

Picking up his pace, Hunter sang next.

Four immunity wins in a row
I'll claim that prize
You'll capsize
You're all too slow

Their duet returned.

We are unstoppable
That's what we are
Don't think you're more capable
Because…

We are unstoppable
We are uncontrollable

WE WILL WIN!

With that last high note, they concluded their display.

Humming resounded across the jury table — a range of reactions passing by the trio.

Brian Smith clapped slowly. “Very well. Return backstage. After Fiore and Will finish performing, the jury will confer over what score to give both pairs.”

Pleased with how they fared, Hunter and Grett shared a high-five. As instructed, they marched out the stage, meeting their opposition upon reaching the curtains on its right side.

“Try and beat that,” Hunter taunted one in particular.

Gnashing her teeth, Fiore's gaze bore into both his and Grett's backs, as they proceeded backstage.

Noting this, Will pumped a fist, trying to direct divert her irate focus onto killing it out there. “Let's make him eat those words!” He urged.

Despite finding this attitude odd, Fiore nodded, eager to humble pasty-faced emo-boy. “We better!” Both stalked into the spotlight. Fiore slotted herself before the electric piano, like in All-Stars.

Meanwhile, Will approached a guitar. Doubts flashed across his mind. What if I botch it completely, in front of all of them? In front of Ashley? These worries almost halted him in his tracks. However, reminding himself of his beloved's assurances earlier, he grabbed his instrument, ready to pull his weight.

Peeking out from the left edge, Brian Smith winked and proclaimed, “And now, going up against that number, is *Underestimated*. By Will and Fiore!”

Following a profuse breath, he gave his teammate a nod. She began playing her instrument first, a slow introduction. Steeling himself, he thrummed his guitar strings to accompany her. Her vocals soon followed.

You're always thinking,
Hey, you're nothing but a weakling.

Resolve strengthening, Will contributed the next two lyrics.

Always bringing me down.
Leaving me feeling like a clown.

Fiore bobbed her head, settling into this rhythm.

You blamed failings on me.
Like you haven't also fumbled it for the team.
Still, you turn around
And insult me with a frown

At last, they belted out simultaneously.

But despite feeling down
I will try and turn it around
You may say, just give up
But I'll persist until things look up

Fiore's fingers moved through her piano notes faster, engrossed.

Because the top is where I'm meant to be
Oh, just you wait
You will see

Strumming his guitar with fervent drive, Will smiled, despite his prior anxiety.

The contrast will be stark
As I shine amidst the dark

This crescendo hit its peak.

I will continue until I succeed
I'll persevere

I'll persevere — you will see

I'll persevere, yeaaaahhh — oh, oh

Both raised their arms, receiving a round of applause from both Ashley and James. Even Riya gave a polite nod. Jury members whispered amongst themselves, as Grett and Hunter joined their rivals on the stage.

Like the diva she was, Riya forcibly assumed the role of leader amongst this trio. “Right, listen up. After quick deliberation, we decided…”

Hunter flashed an assured smirk toward Fiore, who repressed a growl. Hands set on her hips, Grett awaited victory. Meanwhile, Will had his fingers crossed hopefully.

“Hunter and Grett…” She called. Letting them cheer obliviously momentarily, she added, “...you two were the bigger, more pathetic losers. Kiss your shot at immunity today goodbye.” Her trick successfully elicited rather priceless faces.

Fiore and Will burst into celebration. “Yes!” The former pumped a fist, pointing to Hunter with her other hand. “In her face, pale emo!” She mocked.

—Confessional :Fiore—

Brimming with satisfaction, she giggled. “Humiliating that jerk felt great!” She enthused. Calming down, she hummed, somewhat puzzled. “Got to say, though. After… Alec's elimination, I didn't think I'd gel with anyone here — let alone Will, of all people.”

She pondered a bit. “I guess he really isn't the same useless coward from season one anymore.”

—Confessional :Hunter—

Frustrated, he slouched, a huff escaping his lips. “So much for putting a brat in her place… But I guess I've got to give it to her, her performance wasn't half-bad.” He conceded.

—End Confessional—

___________

Backstage, Dan and Alessandro awaited their turn. Due to them being pitted against a pair that included Blake, regardless of who emerged victorious this round, part of the trio would already find itself in peril.

“Let's just try our best,” Alessandro encouraged, proffering a hand. “Whatever happens, happens.”

Dissembling his trepidation, the other took it, nodding. “Yeah… Not much we can do about it,” he concurred, unable to shake off the jitter in his voice.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“The best outcome would, of course, be victory,” Alessandro stated. “Blake would use his idol on himself, and we'd all at least survive this round — buying us more time to figure out how to continue advancing.”

Fishing out his clue, he eyed it. Though realization flashed past his orbs, his expression soon grew somber.

“Are you serious?” He tucked it back into his jeans. “I doubt I'll be able to reach it without getting noticed, which would just worsen things further.” A distressed sigh escaped him.

—Confessional :Dan—

He trembled. “If we don't win immunity, I'm definitely on the chopping block tonight…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Ambling back to the limelight, Brian Smith gave viewers a brief intermission.

“With Fiore and Will's chance to compete for immunity secured — and Hunter and Grett's snuffed out — we'll now be discovering which pair will face off against them, and which will join Huntett in instant loser territory.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Huntett is a ship name, and I'm pretty sure Hunter is taken and not about to cheat.” Disregarding the glower shot his way, he proceeded. “Are you that out of touch?”

“Watch it, before I call Derek and Trevor and request those deleted confessionals of you lusting over Yu-”

In a snap, the influencer acquiesced. “Okay, okay, forget what I said.” He gulped.

“Good.” Clearing his throat, the host resumed his speech. “Now, starting off, we'll have *Under what you see*! By Alessandro and Dan!” He declared, heading offstage again as both individuals came.

The model grabbed an ukulele, smiling reassuringly to his pair. Once met with an admittedly uncertain nod, he strummed the strings, effusing a dulcet tune. Seconds later, their singing commenced — their vocals evincing rather distinct levels of quality and tranquility.

You think I'm just what you see
Truly, I'm like the
Sea-I-see, Sea-I-see

Shutting his eyes, Alessandro played flawlessly still — his mouth curling into a content grin. This brought him back to times where he'd listen to tunes to soothe his mind.

You notice a shallow stream
But can't glimpse the
Sea-I-see, Sea-I-see

Averting his gaze, Dan's mind whirled a mile per hour. In spite of his friend's earlier assurances, his anxiety over his potentially impending departure kept plaguing him. It-

Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea, won't you
Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea, won't you

His failure to resume singing alongside the model struck him hard. Panicking, he clumsily attempted to follow him, inadvertently exacerbating the problem.

Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea, won't you
Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea

The model unfastened his eyes to give him a sympathetic look, hoping to assuage his troubles temporarily. It worked to a degree, allowing Dan to regain harmony, as they took turns belting out the following section.

Cause there's more to show (under the snow)
Even if it comes slow (yet has been sown)
Look and you'll know
Look beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea, won't you?

Pushing aside his guilt over messing up earlier, Dan kept up with Alessandro, as both neared the end.

You think I'm just what you see
Truly, I'm like the
Sea-I-see, Sea-I-see

Look and see, see under, see under, see underneath
Come to me, promise me, promise me, promise you'll see beneath

Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea
Beneath-the-sea, won't you look beneath-the-sea, won't you?

They spread their arms apart upon concluding their performance.

“I guess the model was hot,” Riya mused.

Screened from view by curtains, Brian Smith snickered. “Guess having one of you miss their cue for a section there did you no favors.” He jeered, burrowing the blade deeper for a certain nerd. “Regardless, we'll see how much that blunder cost you two after your competition is done giving us a show.”

Arms folded and head hung, Dan shut his eyes so as to fend off tears. He headed backstage briskly, his model buddy tailing him with a concerned expression. They passed their rival pair, one of whom watched them go with some worry.

Brian Smith's head peeked out from the opposite edge of the stage. “And now… I present to you… Turmoil! By Tom and Blake!” Both strode into this scene, tension clear between them. Even so, they took their respective positions — with Tom at the drums, whereas Blake fetched an electric guitar.

Minds set, they didn't dawdle.

I hate you so much
Most amid the whole bunch

Exchanging narrowed glances, their showcase grew more intense. Blake sang the next portion alone.

He said I'm worst
Like he always did the most
That night, he was a ghost

Though unsure what exactly those lyrics meant, Tom still followed in response, as though rebuking the surfer.

You act as though he's hysterical
You treat him like spectacle
Then get surprised at the consequences

Their vocals coalesced, yet the target of their criticisms couldn't be more different.

So tell me

Their volume heightened.

Why try?
When you're blind?
To yourself?
Where's your sight?

Blake got one solo line.

Is either of us even right?

Then both resumed.

Double down
Double down
Double down
If you want

Unlike a swan
We'll both drown

Blake took the lead.

Was I honest with myself?
Don't even know
The past's gone
We're in the now

Both voices mixed one last time.

Double down
Double down
Double down
If you want

Unlike a swan
We'll both drown

Both struck poses upon hitting the end — applauded by most of the jury. The other pair joined them — Dan did his best to mask his forlorn countenance, with Alessandro draping a comforting arm over his shoulders.

Discussion was swift — the victors undeniable.

Forcing apathy back onto her face, Riya spoke again. “It would have been more evenly matched, if not for a certain nerd's blunder.” Dan hung his head at her critique, already figuring out the verdict. “But there's no questioning it — Blake and Tom had a less pathetic showing, so they're still in the running for immunity.”

Brian Smith waltzed into the scene. “As for you, Dan and Alessandro, get back to your sector backstage to wait until the challenge is over.” He chortled. “After all, you disappointing our judges shouldn't get rewarded by allowing you time to search for anything.”

Disheartened, Dan trudged offstage, holding back tears.

Alessandro waved to the surfer. “We'll root for you to do well in the final round.” Giving encouragement, he whipped back round and followed his scrawny buddy.

—Confessional :Dan—

Inside his and Alessandro's room, he sat before a vanity. Without others watching, he let his tears flow freely. “Great…” He sighed bitterly, listless. “Not only did we lose our chance to secure safety, but the host isn't even letting us go look for an advantage. Even though Alessandro is trying to assure me I'll be fine, I doubt it…”

—Confessional :Blake—

Standing right behind the curtain — as the host and interns worked to set up the next round and all three jury members took a break — he hummed thoughtfully. “Kind of surprised Tom didn't sabotage us to try and guarantee I'm vulnerable tonight.”

—Confessional :Tom—

“I may heavily dislike Blake, but again, sabotaging him in such an underhanded way would feel wrong.” He reiterated, before rubbing the back of his head. “Besides, now that we'll compete against Fiore and Will for immunity, there may be some value in going for the win. Just to ensure they don't become comfortable enough to start flip-flopping with us.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Brian Smith swaggered to the center, clutching his megaphone, pumping his other fist.

“And now, with both pairs of losers shunned, we've assembled the best for one last battle!” He shouted, much to the jury's exasperation. This prevented anyone from taking note of the slight tremors beginning to affect the structure. “First off, we may as well just let Blake and Tom wrap up with their second song… To Know!” He declared with a flourish, returning offstage.

With no preamble, Tom and Blake came back. They were slightly irked to have to perform first, yet didn't let that stop them, retaking their prior positions and utilizing the same instruments as last time. Tolerating each other was already a feat — this would be nowhere near as hard.

Starting to play said instruments, Blake initiated the song moments later.

Hear the call of the wave, my impulses I can't stave
It's like a game, but with no save
To know, know, know

Tom took his turn.

It was a mess of a word, cut through like a sword
Yet some say it's worth just
To know, know, know

Upon approaching the first portion to feature a duet, their volume dropped.

Craved more all my life… And all I've wanted is

Their voices gained sudden intensity and energy.

To know, no matter how
To know, no matter how
The drive will never slow
Regardless of whether it should

To know, no matter how
To know, no matter how
The drive will never slow
Regardless of whether it should

Unbeknownst to them, they weren't experiencing mere shivers due to pressure to perform. But rather, the stage's increasing tremors, its lacking stability starting to culminate.

Blake went solo again.

Adrenaline in my veins, I prod and wonder
Searching in hopes of one day getting
To know, know, know

Then, Tom.

Wanting to prove, wanting to show
That my existence had meaning and
To know, know, know

Both vocals coalesced slowly.

Craved more all my life… And all I've wanted is

Then soared.

To know, no matter how
To know, no matter how
The drive will never slow
Regardless of whether it should

Regardless of whether it should

Applause rang out, as both posed for added effect.

Brian Smith clapped. “Got to admit. You two killed it!” He congratulated. Turning to the camera, he smirked. “With the bar set so high, can Fiore and Will surpass it?”

___________

Watching how well their competitors fared, Fiore glowered. “We've got to win immunity. Otherwise, Tom may just decide to flip on us because he can't target Blake!” She hissed to her partner.

“While I don't think we've got to worry about that, winning immunity would be nice. Can't ever be too safe, right?” Will concurred, giving her a thumbs-up.

Befuddled over how agreeably the brickhouse acted, she nodded. “Right…”

Brian Smith's amplified voice snipped their exchange. “And now, for the closing number, we have got… What Will You Say! By Fiore and Will!” He proclaimed — their cue to reveal themselves.

___________

Greeting the spotlight again, the duo retrieved the same instruments as last time.

The structure rattled with a harsher tremor. Fiore almost lost her footing, but managed to brace her foot against the wooden backdrop, saving herself the embarrassment of tripping in front of the jury. Gritting her teeth, she opted to lean against the wall. Observing that, Will did the same.

Trading glances and nods, they commenced.

Oh, so now you're calling out all of my supposed misdeeds?
How I put on a front, and had many manipulated

That times I should have gotten ‘medicated’
O-Oh
Even though now, you showed what you hadn't learned

Proceeding, they disregarded the increasingly frequent quivers. Backstage, however, contestants caught on to what was transpiring — evacuating the area.

But despite feeling down
I will chin up and continue on
You may say, just give up
But resilience's what brings us up

Constant quaking dislodged a ceiling beam. However, wrapped up in performing, neither noticed it — as both raised their volume.

Because the top is where I'm meant to be-

THUD

A metal bar struck mere feet from them, startling them. Before either could question it, harsh trembles and pops made their orbs scorch up. Astonishment and apprehension flooded both. Screws were coming loose and clattering down.

Fiore gaped, disbelieving over how screwed over they were. “You've got to be kidding me-”

Adrenaline triggered, Will seized her wrist. Allowing her no chance to protest, he yanked her along, leaping. Falling onto bright-green grass before their jury, both rolled forth a foot or two from momentum.

The stage? Its roof caved in, collapsing right onto where they'd stood mere moments prior. Another second would have resulted in them getting crushed under all that rubble.

Witnessing this, Ashley sprung off her chair. “Will!” She yelled, charging over to ensure her beloved's wellbeing. Crouching beside him, she scanned his body for signs of serious harm. Thankfully, he appeared unscathed. “Are you okay?”

Chest heaving, the brickhouse slowly met her concerned gaze. “Y…Yeah…” He assured. Recalling someone else, his orbs darted to the smaller figure sitting near him. “Fiore? Are you okay?”

But the girl had pulled herself afoot already, storming over to the host, who berated Julia and John. “We didn't even hang anything onto that piss-poor excuse of a stage! How the hell did it fall?!” She barked.

Regarding Fiore contemptuously, Brian Smith rolled his eyes. “The staff just didn't do the best of jobs setting it all up. Don't blame me,” he dismissed, pissing her off further. “Besides, you didn't get squashed, so hold your horses. Oh wait, that's an Ashley thing.” He snickered.

Said farm-girl glared upon overhearing that demeaning remark.

SLAM

Coming unannounced, it jolted them out of their quarrel. All eyes flitted to Riya, who folded her arms formally, retaining her haughty aura.

“As a Hollywood Star, my time is valuable. I have no time to watch you squabble like children.” She shaded, drawing ire to herself, yet not caring. Checking her nails, she continued. “So, how exactly do we rate Fiore and Will's performance? Because what happened sort of makes it impossible to judge.”

Pissed off, Brian Smith crossed his arms. Did this Bollywood upstart really think she could boss him around? Given her status… well, she could. But that didn't make it any less infuriating. Not to mention, the brat and farm-girl would clearly resume chastising him once provided an opportunity. Which he sure as hell lacked the patience for. Thus, his verdict came swiftly.

“You know what? Don't worry about it. If what Fiore and Will did up there wasn't enough, it just means Blake and Tom win immunity. I don't have the patience to come up with a way to redo this.” He asserted, too irritated to give the slightest crap over his ruling being unfair. As his eyes swept over the final eight, he realized he'd rather not need to see them tonight. “In fact, since I'd prefer to be alone tonight, I'm holding the ceremony in ten minutes! Follow me!”

Dan's heart dropped. The host just callously robbed him of the chance to scour around in hopes of finding some advantage. He had already forbidden them all from venturing out to search during the challenge, and now this? Repudiating it wouldn't change it. His doom impended.

Immensely exasperated, the host muttered to himself as he passed by a certain model. “Good thing helmets, poles and weights won't cause such a mess…”

Grett could barely conceal her eager grin. Excitement filled her — she couldn't wait to dispose of her target. She forged after the host. The others, affected by varying emotions, tailed her.

Worried over his friend's distress, Alessandro pulled Dan closer to comfort him. “Hey, it will be okay.” He assured. Inwardly, he nervously hoped their resident surfer would heed his earlier plea. Gazing ahead, he saw said man already on his way with the rest.

___________

Flames swooshed and roared behind Brian Smith. The final eight were all seated.

Grett discreetly eyed another contestant balefully — under the impression his seemingly inevitable downfall would catch him off-guard. She couldn't wait to savor his reaction.

Far too aware of the piercing glare trained upon his back, Dan gulped, repressing tears. Despite facing such futility, he'd rather maintain whatever dignity he had left. Even so, he made sure to listen well as Alessandro whispered a name in his ear. Leaning over to Blake, he quaveringly relayed it.

To avert suspicion, said surfer did the same for Fiore, but gave her a false target, which she passed onto Will. In an ironic twist, they all engaged in pretending, though two remained more in the dark.

Clapping with an eye-roll, the host flung both hands up. “Enough stalling, time to get voting!”

___________

Grett penned the name without missing a beat. Dropping her parchment on the urn, she folded her arms resolutely. “Time for payback.”

“Sorry, but you have grown rather spiteful lately,” Tom stated, scrawling on his ballot. “At least I didn't forget the name,” he mused.

“Guess you really were a wolf in sheep's clothing,” Hunter muttered, placing his slip on the urn.

Fiore slotted her ballot into the vase. “Didn't know you much, and it seems it will stay that way.”

Casting his vote, Will embraced himself and averted his gaze. “I'm sorry, but this is what's best for my game.”

Heaving a miserable sigh, Dan barely managed to muster up the strength to scribble on the parchment. “I doubt I'll survive…” He conceded, sniffling. “But Alessandro told me who to vote for, and after how he's helped me, it would be a slap in the face to disregard his request…”

Alessandro cast his vote, taking a deep breath. “Given what the host accidentally spilled regarding the next challenge, this is the best target. I… just hope Blake will listen…”

Although Blake voted swiftly, he crossed his arms, contemplating something else…

___________

Rubbing his hands menacingly, Brian Smith regained some thrill. “Now that all votes have been counted, here's your last chance to play an immunity idol — if you have it, of course…”

Sniffling, Dan hung his head with despair.

Whipping his head toward a certain surfer, Alessandro shot him a pleading gaze.

Outwardly, Blake remained stone-faced. Inwardly, however, turmoil wracked him. Giving up his sole safety net would put him at risk, especially as the others would maintain their numbers advantage. But…

“Alright then!” Blake declared, to which Alessandro's expression fell into sorrow not too dissimilar to his nerdy friend's. Tears began streaming down the model's face, as he reckoned he had failed Dan. What point was there to holding them back, anyway? “First vote-”

“WAIT!”

Every head snapped toward the surfer, who fumbled in his pants. Before he was bombarded with questions, he fished out his immunity idol. Gasps rang out.

Grett sprung off her stump. “Where did you get that?!” She exclaimed, orbs dilated and wild. Was this surfer for real right now? “And why are you even revealing it?! You're immune!”

Dismissing her, Blake sauntered over to the host. “I'd like to play it on…” He inhaled and exhaled. “Dan.”

Humming, Brian Smith cracked a smirk. “I can confirm this is… a valid immunity totem!” He threw an arm up for emphasis. “Any votes cast against Dan won't count.”

Relief washing over like a tsunami, Dan nearly crashed backward onto the dirt, but Alessandro caught him. His impending doom had seemed so inescapable — evading it left him stunned.

On his end, the model directed a look of utter gratitude toward the surfer, a hand pressed to his own chest. “Thank you so much, Blake.”

“Damn it…” Fiore groaned, understanding she and Will had gotten busted. The brickhouse himself merely diverted his gaze from his former allies, his shame exacerbated.

Returning to his seat, Blake narrowed his orbs at Grett. “You weren't as sneaky as you thought last night.” His words made her ball her fists.

Hunter and Tom exchanged worried glances.

Chuckling now, Brian Smith resumed revealing the votes.

“First vote… Dan — invalid!”

His safety registering at last, Dan allowed a grin to cross his lips. Grett rolled her eyes, folding her arms.

“Second vote… Dan — invalid!”

Patting Hunter's shoulder, Tom whispered to him, “They're definitely targeting either Grett, for organizing the alliance, or one of Will and Fiore, for flipping, so at least you don't need to worry.”

“Third vote… Dan — invalid!”

Filled with appreciation, Alessandro embraced Blake. Though startled initially, the surfer soon reciprocated. Orbs shifting to that sight, Dan felt his joy recede, yet repressed his discomfort — telling himself to be glad for his guaranteed survival.

“Fourth vote… Dan — invalid!”

Exchanging nervous glances, Will and Fiofe prayed for their safety.

“Fifth vote Dan — invalid!” Brian Smith confirmed. Shrugging, he tutted playfully. “All three remaining votes were for one camper — no point in reciting each.” He announced.

Four vulnerable contestants tensed.

“Ninth person voted out from Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…”

Grett, Hunter, Fiore and Will eyed the single unrevealed parchment the host held fearfully, willing the name within to be anyone but their own.

For one of them, however, their hopes were shattered once its content was unveiled.

“Hunter! With three votes, it's time for you to go!” Brian Smith proclaimed.

“What?! What did he even do to any of you?!” Tom snapped at the trio, eliciting no answer.

Resigned, Hunter stood up. “Can't say I don't deserve this after how much I screwed up.”

With that admission, he addressed both the cop and Grett. “Tom… thanks for forgiving me and lending me someone to talk to after Tess got voted off. And Grett, though we didn't get to interact much, I'm really grateful for what you told me today…”

Casting a more begrudgingly respectful look toward Fiore, he sighed. “As much as I have dissed you in the past, I'll admit — your and Will's song was miles better than what Grett and I came up with.”

Fiore rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I guess there's no point in staying mad at you now that you're out.”

Orbs flitting to the gentle brickhouse, he proffered a hand. “As for you… I'm sorry for getting so emotional over Ally and Tess’ eliminations… You just stuck with who you figured would keep you safe.”

Smiling lightly, Will accepted the handshake. “No hard feelings,” he assured.

“At least now, I can make things right with Ally and Tess, in person…” Looking on the bright side, Hunter departed for the bus-stop.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She exhaled, her tension allayed. “That was close. Not exactly sure why they took out Hunter, but I'm not complaining.”

—Confessional :Blake—

“Using the idol now may have been a risky move, but…” He sighed deeply. “I don't even know anymore…”

—Confessional :Grett—

She gritted her teeth. “Of course, the moment it seems the nerd is going home, he gets saved by a totem.” Composing herself, she regarded the camera sternly. “No matter. They might have had an idol, but it's gone now. They're finished…”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Originally, the plan was to vote for Grett, but Brian's words about the next challenge… made me change my mind…” He divulged. He allowed a smile onto his face. “I'm just glad Blake saved Dan. It's nice to have made two friends in this game…”

Something made him squint with thought, however. “But… I've got another thing I have to do…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Whilst everyone slumbered, the model snuck out his tent — now only occupied by himself, Dan and Blake. Ensuring no one else was awake, he trod swiftly down the dirtpath toward the clearing.

___________

Skipping a little over half an hour, the footage cut to him rummaging through the debris that had once been a stage.

“Come on… it has to be somewhere around here…” He muttered to himself, recalling his clue. If his intuition hadn't blundered, that clue must have pointed here. Right as he commenced doubting himself, he pushed away another mound of splinters, unearthing exactly the item he searched for. Grinning, he picked it up with a smirk. “I knew it!”

Chapter Text

Brian Smith stood before… a rundown, vaguely unsanitary motel this time. Cupping his mouth briefly to muffle a snicker, he grinned and crossed his arms.

“What? Thought you'd see me in front of the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw again?” He teased. “Despite this competition being much shorter than the norm, we figured we might as well check up on our dear losers. Sure… we would have done this an episode earlier, when half the cast was out and the other still in…”

His expression darkened with exasperation.

“But due to abnormal circumstances surrounding Ellie's exit, we had to postpone it a bit…”

Brushing that off, he swiftly recovered his usual demeanor.

“Regardless, the past can't be changed, so let's move on.” He dismissed it, holding up a finger. “Of course, we can't begin without a recap of last episode's… peculiar talent show. So…”

Cut to footage from last episode.

“After Fiore and Will flipped and told Grett what Dan did.” He erroneously recounted, seemingly unaware of the truth himself.

Snippets of the trio's meeting with Hunter and Tom played.

“She had them tell an embellished version of events to Tom and Hunter, convincing them to join forces. The plan was to keep the devious trio of Alessandro, Blake and Dan in the dark until the ceremony; however, the model had already caught onto their schemes.”

Cue a montage revolving around the musical contest.

“Once paired up to prepare and perform music, there were arguments, heart-to-hearts and dramatic bits galore. Which didn't cease once the show kicked in. Though…” The stage's downfall came. “...it fell off hard, at the end…”

“Once Blake and Tom secured immunity, it appeared Dan was done. But in a shocking twist, the surfer played his idol on him — nullifying all five votes cast against him, sending Hunter packing…” He snickered over that. At least something thrilling had transpired following that trainwreck the challenge had ended on.

The scene returned to Brian Smith.

“Seven people remain…” He trailed off, wagging a finger. “But, as mentioned at the start, this episode won't be about them. Instead, you'll all get to catch up with the nine — or, well, due to ‘unfortunate circumstances’ eight — losers who have failed to make it this far. Right here on…

Disventure Camp: OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!”

___________

A particular trio lounged upon the base of the stairs leading into the second floor balcony, chatting and gaming merrily. Spotting them, Brian Smith shrugged and elected to interview them first.

A microphone in hand, he approached. “Well, well — look who we have here.” He commenced to attain their attention, inadvertently costing them whatever match they'd been engaging with — not that he cared. Disregarding their displeased faces, he smirked and addressed Hunter first. “How is our latest boot faring?”

“I'm fine. Talked everything out with Ally and Tess last night…” He trailed off, a blush suffusing his cheeks, drawing giggles from both women near him. Setting a hand on a step, Ally placed hers atop, followed by Tess. “After all this, Ally and I also realized that… well, we both don't just love each other…”

“The two of us love Tess just as much, too,” Ally chimed in.

A broad, grateful smile graced said individual's lips. “And I love the two of them just as much,” she confirmed.

Quirking an eyebrow, the host moved his mic closer to them. “Oooh… Sounds like Huntessally fans’ dreams are finally coming true… Mind filling us in further?” He pried, getting rather disconcerting.

“We'd rather keep our business private,” Hunter asserted, arms folded over his chest. “And we especially don't want to reveal stuff to a host who didn't ensure there wasn't a literal wolf prowling the woods.”

“Oh, come on,” Brian insisted. “Nothing that serious even happened to-”

“Not that serious?!” Tess cut him off — harshness seldom seen from the art-student tinging her tone. Standing up with curled fists, she glared. “Ellie could have died, you psychopath!” Her voice rose, as she stepped forth.

Sensing her friend's brewing ire, Ally wrapped her in an embrace. Both to soothe and restrain her. However, she and Hunter didn't seem pleased with the man either.

Springing back, Brian scoffed. “Touchy much?” Considering them remorselessly, he shrugged. “I was going to ask you about what you'd do differently. But I'd rather not get screamed at, so see ya.” Turning around, he resumed his tour — impervious to their piercing glowers.

___________

Resting on a sunbed, Jake basked in pleasant morning sunlight. He lay with a placid smile on his lips. Visibly, he found himself relishing his stay here way more than his time back in Camp Tipiskaw.

Unfortunately for this blue-haired fan-favorite, a nosy host stumbled upon him.

A smirk crossed Brian Smith's face. Tip-toeing to his side, he bent over and whispered in his ear. “Tom has just arrived at the motel.”

Those words jolted Jake into sitting up, only to be greeted with a tittering host. “Did you really need to lie to me?” He huffed. Squinting, he arched a brow. “Why are you even here?”

“Recording the motel episode, obviously,” Brian Smith condescended, regarding the guy as though he were an absolute moron. “Regardless, how have you been doing since arriving here? Still butthurt over getting outplayed by your ex?” He taunted.

Despite his eye-roll, Jake shook his head. “Honestly? I'm not that mad anymore.” Aware the other wouldn't let him leave his answer at that, he proceeded. “Don't get me wrong, I still don't like Blake — I hope Tom gets the upper hand and eliminates him. But when I saw the horror episode? Realizing just how traumatic what I inadvertently caused him to go through really was… well, it didn't feel right to hold such a huge grudge anymore.”

Brian Smith feigned a scandalized gasp. “Are you saying you're in the wrong for getting cheated on?” He intentionally jumped to conclusions to dramatize this moment for ratings.

Facepalming, Jake groaned. “You're really desperate for views, aren't you?” He shaded.

“No, I'm not suddenly solely blaming myself for our relationship ending on such a bitter note. A normal break-up could have prevented most of this baggage. But he was immature and opted to get payback by doing something that hurt a lot…”

Averting his gaze, he clutched his elbow, sighing.

“However, I was immature many times as well — before, during and even after our relationship. That harmed others as well, even if not to the same extent. It… would be remiss of me to claim I'm totally innocent. Neither of us were… And I'd prefer not to keep wasting so much time and energy hating him.”

He propped his chin within his hand.

“Given what we got to see from more recent episodes, he probably feels similarly.”

Hands on his hips, Brian rolled his eyes. “Tsk. What a bore.” He retorted. “Anyway, since I already didn't get to do this for three other losers, I have to ask this.” He held his microphone closer to the ex-contestant. “What do you think was your biggest mistake throughout your run? Anything you believe might have saved you if handled differently?”

Scratching his hair, Jake shrugged. “I mean, I suppose maybe not allowing Ellie to just have us target Dan so blatantly may have helped?” He brought up. “He and Alessandro were outside our alliance, sure. But I suppose making more of an effort not to seem as biased in Ellie's favor could have improved my odds? Don't know what else to tell you.”

Although no one had called him, Nick suddenly raced into the scene, craving attention. “I have a lot to say!”

With an eye-roll, Brian shoved the rich guy away. “You did terribly last time you played, and you did even worse this season. And since you're not paying me to give a fuck, I'm not interested.” He rebuffed bluntly, moving on.

___________

“Wow… whoever runs that orphanage really just doesn't care what happens to those they house…” Connor let out, as he and his friend perused the form delivered by someone the former hired. “All we sent in was a request, and they are already allowing you to sign a document to attain custody. The fact bad people out there could just ‘adopt’ children this readily…”

Sitting at a table near the pool area, both had pored over — and been shaken by — the content.

Running a hand across his brown strands, Alec frowned. “Not to mention how staff treats them while they live there,” he concurred, fist curling. “All the more reason we can't let Fiore languish there much longer.”

Draping a supportive arm over the librarian's shoulder, the perfume-company owner gave him a reassuring grin. His golden-tooth gleamed. “Hey, chin up. If nothing else, their lack of care at least means you can get Fiore out of there quickly.”

Despite nodding, Alec hung his head. Doubts weighed his mind down again. “I suppose… but… am I truly qualified to be a parent?” He wondered uncertainly. “After how I neglected Daniel, can I ever trust myself not to let it happen again?” He quivered.

Tightening his grip to draw his focus, Connor regarded him confidently. “Look, I won't try and gaslight you into thinking that wasn't bad.” He commenced earnestly. “But, I can attest to the fact you're not that man anymore, Alec. You even worrying so much over Fiore's plight proves it.”

Comforted, Alec smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Connor.”

Their sweet moment got snipped by the host's brazen arrival. “Oh, isn't that a wholesome scene for the people at home?” He snorted.

Both men looked unamused.

“What do you want?” The librarian hissed, hands set on the tabletop.

Brian Smith affected offense. “Oh, goodness. No need to be so hostile, you know?” He chided smugly. “I just wanted to know what you're both up to. Given what I gleaned from your interaction, it seems juicy!”

Folding his arms over his chest, Alec relented with a gruff huff. “Fine. If you must know, ever since I arrived here, Connor and I have conducted some research into where exactly Fiore's parents left her. That orphanage is deplorable.” He expounded without restraint. “So… Connor has been helping me make all necessary arrangements to potentially adopt her.” Orbs drifting back to the older man, his gaze evinced gratitude. “Even though I'm far from a perfect parent, she deserves better than to be stuck in that place.”

“I see…” Brian mused, before that vexing smirk returned. “But aren't you worried about your parenting skills potentially not being up to the task. After all, considering that scene from All-Stars-”

Connor cut the host off, glowering. “We aren't trying to sweep that under the rug. But I've gotten to know Alec very well, and trust me, he's no longer that way.” His words elicited another grateful look from the librarian.

Rolling his eyes, Brian waved dismissively. “Sure, sure. Anyway, to wrap things up, what do you both think we're your biggest mistakes in-game? Anything you feel might have saved you?”

“Trying to ally Hunter, Ally and Tess early on, rather than taking the easy alliance Blake offered, may have kept me in. But I doubt Hunter would have refrained from gunning for Fiore for long. And between both of us? I think she deserved the chance to advance more than me.”

“Well… I don't really mind it too much. Besides, from what I watched, I got targeted at Blake's behest. But I suppose Dan and Alessandro might have hesitated more, had I gotten to know them better.”

Giving a disinterested nod, Brian Smith began heading off, addressing the viewers. “Well, that was nowhere near as intriguing as I expected. Hopefully, things will be less stale when we come back here right before the finale.” Forcing a smirk back on his countenance, he spoke again. “Regardless, next episode, we'll be back with our final 7, and see which of them will fall just before the endgame.”

Halting, he struck a pose for the lens.

“I'm your host, Brian Smith! And this was another episode of…

Disventure Camp: OLD SCORES TO-”

“WAIT A DAMN SECOND! WHAT ABOUT MY INTERVIEW?!” An indignant shrill interrupted him, as Karol stormed toward him, getting in his face.

Rolling his eyes, the host pushed her away. “Like Nick, your performance was awful both times.” He mocked. “Also, your voice is insufferable, so I don't care to-”

She swung her foot squarely into…

Brian Smith's shriek resounded across the motel.

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—

Chapter Text

Standing in front of the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw as always, Brian Smith had both hands on his hips, sneering. Clearly, he didn't bother masking his nastier facet much anymore.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…” He commenced recapping.

Cut to footage from last episode, starting with the campsite argument and the discussion afterward.

“Even with Fiore and Will's betrayal exposed, Grett still had the majority. Something she sure expressed joy over getting — though, her confident spiel accidentally aroused a certain cop's suspicion!”

It moved on to the now minority alliance's pre-challenge screentime.

“Meanwhile, Blake and Alessandro went and found Dan, though the nerd was secretly disappointed the model wasn't the only one there with him…” He snickered upon reciting that.

Then came the challenge itself.

“Their devious scheme played out, as campers were forced to go through an experience similar to what All-Stars’ own final 7 went through. In the midst of it, Tom had his suspicions regarding Grett vindicated — and found out a few other things. And a certain surfer wound up wracked with guilt.”

A few post-challenge clips flashed past, with the ceremony succeeding them.

“Despite Fiore's attempt to placate Tom by offering to eliminate Alessandro — so the cop wouldn't feel as though Grett got a say in everything — Dan's prodding sufficed in making him turn fully against Grett, sending her packing in 7th place… again!” He chortled over the irony. “Guess she and Gabby now have something in common.”

Cutting back to present times, Brian Smith upraised both arms, mustering all his excitement to deliver a charged declaration.

“Six contestants remain! The endgame is upon us! Who will be voted out tonight? Find out, in this episode of…

Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

___________

Amidst hushed darkness, dirt crunched beneath multiple pairs of feet. Moonlight glimmered down upon the four of the final six, as they trudged down the dirtpath. Tensions were… higher, yet softer?

Obviously, matters revolving around factions were technically approaching their peak. This was the final six — one split down the middle. Despite Tom's earlier choice, he was unlikely to outright side with an alliance that included his husband's ex — even with their feud no longer radiating the constant, burning hatred it once displayed.

“Thank you so much, Dan,” Alessandro reiterated, as both traveled side-by-side. Clearly, the model didn't believe he'd expressed his gratitude enough yet. “If it wasn't for you, I would've been toast.”

A joyful smile graced the nerd's lips, and he couldn't help but guffaw. “It's no big deal. You already saved me at the final 8,” he mentioned, casually disregarding their other ally's part in that. “That was the least I could do to repay you.” He pumped a fist. “Besides, we're in this together — we're going all the way to the final 2!” He enthused.

Faux coughing interjected, a certain surfer slotting himself beside the model, who shook his head fondly.

“Well, that's assuming Blake doesn't manage to take a spot there, of course,” Alessandro corrected light-heartedly.

“Damn right,” Blake asserted, nodding with a smirk. “I'm fine with you both ganging up on me once we reach the final 3. However, don't think I won't try my hardest to succeed regardless,” he teased, clasping his shoulder.

“Don't worry. We won't hold that against you either.” Amidst his happiness, Alessandro overlooked his best friend's tone.

“Yeah, that's completely fair. The… three of us are heading straight to the finale,” Dan concurred half-heartedly. As soon as both his alliancemates were distracted, he averted his eyes, which glinted with slight spite.

—Confessional :Dan—

His smile looked incredibly strained. “I still really appreciate Blake playing his totem on me at the final 8 — believe me, I do,” he affirmed too forcefully.

Finally, he heaved a sigh, folding his arms.

“But… the chances of him robbing either me or Alessandro of a spot at the final 2 are very high. He's very well-rounded as a player. Won the first merge immunity, the musical challenge, and even if we hadn't played to make him win the last one, there's a considerable chance he may have clinched that victory still, too.” He didn't follow up on that statement, merely lowering his gaze.

—End Confessional—

___________

“Um… Fiore?” Will quizzed, seated upon his stump, watching her pace back and forth. “Why did you want us to stay here?” Following their ostensible leader's departure, he found himself unsure of the status of their partnership — if it even still persisted.

Ceasing motion, Fiore huffed wearily. “Well, I think it's obvious.” Crossing her arms, she considered him sternly. “With Grett gone, we need a plan of action to save us from getting obliterated these next few rounds.”

Both hands on his lap, the brickhouse ventured to inquire, just to be certain. “So, Grett's boot doesn't mean the end of our alliance?”

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. “Of course it doesn't,” she confirmed the obvious. “Not like either of us can go back to those three. They probably plan to go to the finale together, and I doubt they'd trust us after we defected.” She drew closer. “Like it or not, we must stick together to even have a chance to get through this…” Trailing off, she hugged herself. “I can't… can't be seen as a failure by the one person I've grown to see as a parent…” She mumbled, reminiscing about a particular librarian.

Observing her inner turmoil, Will left his stump to crouch down before her. “Fiore? What… what do you mean by that?” He questioned, orbs gleaming with genuine worry. When this contest began, he never would have conceived the possibility of caring about her wellbeing this much. But here they were.

She recoiled, eyes dilating — as though she hadn't meant for her ruminations to be overheard. Composing herself, she shook her head emphatically. “Nothing you need to worry about, okay?” She retorted, pointing at him.

Though his concern didn't diminish, Will elected to heed her request, not wanting to pressure her. “Alright, just…” He sighed. “Even if we used to dislike each other a lot, I… don't want you to feel as though you can't confide in anyone, given Alec's not here. I'm not going to claim to be a replacement, or anything — but if you feel you need someone to vent to, I'm willing to lend an ear.”

Taken aback, Fiore eventually averted her gaze, forcing herself to dismiss it. “Whatever.” Fixing him with an intense stare, she extended a hand. “Are you still in this alliance?”

Without delay, he accepted the handshake with a nod.

—Confessional :Will—

Scratching his hair, he drummed the edge of his stump with his free hand.

“It's still a bit surprising to find myself feeling this way, but I'm really worried for Fiore. Ever since she accidentally dropped hints as to how the place her parents left her in treats its occupants, I… have begun understanding some things. If her parents abandoned her in such an awful institution so nonchalantly, they couldn't have been good caregivers prior…

Which… does track with some of Fiore's comments…” He realized, stopping his idle movements. Wincing with guilt, he sighed. “I just hope things turn out okay for her after this show ends…”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Banging the lateral facet of her stump, she scoffed. Holding back some sorrow, she folded her arms.

“Since I'll probably be harassed by nosy assholes after this show otherwise, I'll fess up…” She relented. “My parents, as those of you who aren't complete morons may have picked up on, were pieces of shit who never cared for me. In fact, as much as I hate admitting it, I've seen Alec as my real father for some time now…”

Averting her gaze, she snickered mirthlessly.

“Pathetic, isn't it? Unless I somehow get invited back for another season of this slop perhaps, I know I'll probably never see him again. Even so…” She couldn't suppress a slight sniffle. “...I don't want him to see me as a disappointment, too…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“That is completely ridiculous!” Julia slammed her palms on the mess-hall table, indignant. “Brian Smith has already been an utter tyrant with how he's clearly singled you out for extra labor yesterday — all over you cutting that gorefest of a simulation that had devolved into downright torture for the contestants. And now, he's going to isolate you to make you work even more tomorrow?!”

Holding up both hands, Johnathan attempted to placate her. “It's okay. I mean, it does suck. But he probably won't be too harsh, given he's already punished me for that before,” he assured disingenuously. Needless to say, he didn't tell her about what transpired at the ceremony. Mainly because he knew she would confront the host with the truth. He dreaded to imagine how that would pan out.

Thudding back into her chair, she folded her arms and narrowed her gaze. “It's not fine. That bastard has been constantly trying to make you miserable these past few days, and has the gall to act as though he's the slighted party!” She exclaimed, not worried about her volume. That man's lazy ass had definitely dozed off back at his private quarters by now, she knew. “This can't continue!”

Rubbing his temples, John released a stressed breath. As much as he enjoyed her company, she could get overwhelmingly loud. In his current predicament, it exacerbated his anxiety.

“Look… I know… alright?” He reassured, somewhat desperate for peace and quiet. “But we can't do anything right now. We haven't managed to salvage proof of misconduct on his end. And if we get ourselves fired for acting out, we will never get the chance to do so.” Panting, he gave her an earnest look. “So, please, let me just… prepare myself to get through tomorrow, okay?”

Seeing her rant had done her friend more harm than good, Julia relented, cooling down. “Fine… I'm sorry for stressing you out so much. Just… promise me you'll make it out okay…” She pleaded.

Swallowing his guilt over the potential lie, he forced himself to smile. “I swear I'll be okay…”

___________

From a dark sky, it transitioned into a cloudless, azure one.

Dan trod the dappled grass with purpose. Given he had slept in at the final eight round, he felt an obligation to make up for it. Choosing to do so this morning had been rather lucky on his part, as it allowed him to spot Tom heading off in this direction.

To be candid, he wasn't too confident the officer could be persuaded to vote with them again, especially if Blake didn't clinch immunity again. Even then, Tom wasn't moronic enough to ignore how an alliance made up half the final six. Regardless, he figured there was no harm in trying. Who knew? Perhaps extending an olive branch could yield unexpected results.

—Confessional :Dan—

“This may seem pointless, but it doesn't hurt to keep my options somewhat open,” he pointed out. Gripping his elbow, he sighed. “I may have been able to get farther last time I played, had I kept that in mind more.”

—End Confessional—

Eventually, he heard grunting up ahead. Hastening over, he gazed up, finding Tom perched on a bough, grappling with keeping hold of an armful of apples he'd plucked.

“Shouldn't you have brought a basket — or even better, someone to stand under that tree with one, so you can just drop apples onto it?” He called out.

Startled by the sudden arrival, the himbo lost all semblance of grasp upon the fruit. Before the nerd knew, he got conked a couple times, wincing. Once this accidental, man-made rain subsided, he unfastened his eyes to see the cop had come down.

“What brings you here?” The larger man inquired, tone cautious. “I thought you'd be hanging out with Blake or Alessandro.”

Massaging the now aching top of his head with one hand, Dan suppressed an eye-roll. “Well, it's still pretty early, all things considered. Given I overslept once, I wanted to compensate, and so happened to spot you heading this way.” He clarified. “Since I have some stuff I'd like to discuss with you, I guessed now was as good a time as any.”

Although the other's suspicions were clearly not fully dispelled, he hummed. “I'm listening.”

“First, I wanted to thank you for voting off Grett,” Dan stated, endeavoring to start off on an amicable note. “Like, I… know running off and leaving Ellie there wasn't good. But she would have outpaced me had I warned her. After our whole feud, how could I trust she wouldn't leave me for dead, too?” Upon receiving a somewhat understanding look, he folded his arms, expelling a puff. “The fact Grett went on to make me look like a monster, who had gone out of his way to make Ellie attract the wolves… It… was just so infuriating. You understand, right?”

Stroking his chin, Tom nodded. “I can see how getting slandered that way would rattle you, even if what you actually did wasn't completely right,” he conceded. Following the whole Hunter dilemma, he could see how antagonizing others often led to no good.

Waving it off, Dan shook his head. “But that's not the main thing I came to talk about,” he admitted. “You see, I was hoping you'd be interested in getting an easy path to final four. Given both flipped on my alliance, Fiore and Will are easy picks for 6th and 5th place…” He proposed.

Countenance darkening, Tom crossed his arms. “Sorry, but no,” he declined.

Expecting that, Dan just gave a bummed out sigh. “Well, kind of saw that coming…” He arched an eyebrow, fists on his sides. “Let me guess, you still loathe Blake the same, right?”

Pondering his answer, Tom shrugged. “I… don't absolutely detest him anymore,” he revealed, briefly incredulous over his own statement. “But I just have to get him out as soon as possible. At this point, I think it's less about revenge, but rather just freeing myself of the baggage in order to focus fully on these final rounds.” Considering the nerd again, he sighed. “And given you, him and Alessandro make up half the final six, it only makes sense to target one of you, even if he wins immunity…”

Hanging his head without too much disappointment, Dan turned his back to him. “Fair enough. The game is the game. Hope you respect that, when this choice is your downfall…” Leaving the officer with that ominous warning, he started back toward camp.

—Confessional :Tom—

“I meant what I said,” he affirmed. “I might not abhor that surfer or anything now, but we're still enemies, at least as long as we're both still in the game. I need to take him out — both for Jake, and so I can focus, without constantly having my attention on him.”

—Confessional :Dan—

He wrapped both arms around himself, ruminating.

“Can't say I'm shocked he rejected my proposition. To be fair, I was mostly hoping he'd agree so I could have more options upon reaching the final four.” He explained. “But hey, with Grett gone, I'm no longer a major target. That's nice, I guess…”

—End Confessional—

Several moments after Dan had evanesced from Tom's sight, two figures emerged — a smaller, determined one, followed by a much larger, yet also more nervous one.

“Let me guess, you're here to suggest we work together, is that right?” He guessed.

Arms crossed, Fiore narrowed her eyes. “Don't even try fooling us into thinking you have another choice. We overheard that exchange with Dan, who'll probably let the other two know you're not interested in cooperating.” She argued. “Considering your quarrel with Blake, you'd probably be their first target out of the three of us.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Tom nodded. “You got me there…” His countenance hardened. “But we're gunning for Blake first, got it?” He asserted, eyeing not her, but the brickhouse idling a couple feet away.

Embracing himself, Will met his gaze with a resigned one. “Yeah, don't worry… I'm… fine with voting off Blake…” He confirmed.

Appeased, the other smirked. “Good. Anyway, I'd rather be on my own right now, so can you go?”

Exchanging glances, Fiore and Will started down the trail leading to the campsite.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She hummed. “Kind of surprised Will agreed to that so quickly. I thought I'd have to convince him, but I'm not complaining.”

—Confessional :Will—

Clutching the hem of his cargo shorts, the brickhouse heaved a dejected expulsion of air.

“Thanks to last challenge, I know how Blake really sees me…” Despite his assertion, traces of reluctance lingered. “I… need to focus on going farther. Even if Ashley will be proud of me either way, I want to actually feel I've earned that pride…”

—End Confessional—

Trekking down the dirtpath alongside Fiore, Will couldn't help but express some apprehension.

“Are we… sure Tom can beat Blake in a tiebreaker, assuming neither wins immunity?” He quizzed.

“Not really…” Fiore admitted, only to smirk. “While I can't guarantee it will work, if my plan pans out, we won't need a tiebreaker.” Glancing over at him, she shrugged. “Don't worry, I won't need extra help to pull that off, just make sure you vote Blake tonight if he doesn't win immunity, okay?”

Electing to trust her, Will nodded.

___________

Arriving back at the campsite, Dan saw both his allies lounging the logs, chatting. Suppressing slight envy, he waved to garner their attention.

“I'm back,” he announced. “Sorry for not notifying you. I woke up early, saw Tom heading off, and followed.”

Approaching, Alessandro set a hand on his shoulder, beaming. “It's fine. Glad you're back, though.” His kind words brought a smile to the nerd's own face.

Joining them, Blake hummed quizzically. “Did you get any intel, by any chance?” He requested.

Suppressing an eye-roll, Dan responded, “Well, Tom confirmed he's not working with us again, even if you're immune once more.”

Taking it well, the surfer shrugged. “Fair enough. At least I know to prepare myself for a tiebreaker tonight, in case I lose today's challenge,” he mused.

“I'm sure you can defeat Tom,” the model encouraged.

Before a somewhat envious Dan could chime in, the loudspeakers burst to life.

“Report to the mess-hall, final six! Today's challenge is a special one!”

___________

“Um… what exactly are we doing?” Will spoke up, puzzled. On their way through the clearing, they had found neither any sort of new structure nor equipment. Entering the building, the same seemed to ring true at first glance. Tom quirked an eyebrow, unsure as well.

Meanwhile, Dan, Blake and Alessandro exchanged uneasy looks, getting a hunch.

Reaching the same possibility, Fiore slapped a hand onto her forehead, exasperated. “Don't tell me we're doing that again…” She groaned.

Opening the door leading into the less frequented sector, their host emerged.

Grinning broadly over those tense expressions that greeted him, Brian Smith snickered. “Oh, don't worry. We're not repeating the horror theme — if we were, you would be thrust into it without warning again.” He waved a hand dismissively, before raising a finger. “But don't think that means today's simulation will be any less action-packed!”

Knowing there was no evading it, Alessandro interjected. “What exactly is the theme this time?” He inquired, hands on his hips.

The host smirked. “Good thing you asked, hot-stuff.”

That comment instantly put the model off. Overlooking that, Brian Smith beckoned them to follow, turning around and heading back through the door — with the final six reluctantly trailing after. Chairs were disposed in a circle, a headset resting on each. Motioning for them to take a seat, he drew hesitant compliance.

“This simulation will be more reminiscent of the one from All-Stars in terms of tone,” Brian Smith expounded, watching them sit down and put their devices on. “Each of you will receive a special ability, and will be able to use it against other players — though, their offensive properties will only start working on your fellow players an hour after this simulation begins, to prevent it from ending too abruptly.”

“Odd. We weren't asked which superpower we'd rather have at any point. Will you be selecting that for us this time?” Tom quizzed, still fiddling with his headset.

With a chortle, Brian Smith tutted. “While it's true that I've pre-selected which ability each of you gets, they aren't superpowers. This won't be a complete rip-off of the superhero challenge.”

Dan hummed, intrigued. “Come again?”

The host scoffed, crossing his arms. “What? You think I'm completely unoriginal. Whatever.” Clearing his throat, he explained. “Instead of superheroes, the theme is fantasy! Speaking of other differences, there will be no final boss to defeat — though, there will be some minions scattered about, just to add some spice. Once an hour is up, the battle royal element will be at the forefront, with the last one standing securing invincibility.” A smirk crept back onto his face. “Though… that's not to say there won't be other ways to attain immunity.”

Rather nervous over the prospect of dueling to the death — even if only virtually — Will perked up at that last statement. “Really?” He gasped.

Nodding, Brian Smith held two fingers. “Two orbs of light are located somewhere around the map. Touch one, and you'll be booted from the simulation, yet also receive immunity.” Lowering one finger, he wagged the other. “Do keep in mind, each orb will permanently disappear once someone has used it. So, no, there's no way to turn this into a non-elimination round. At most, half of you will attain immunity, and that's assuming both spheres get discovered.”

Players traded uneasy looks, tensions simmering. With the final six split down the middle, the possibility of an entire faction securing immunity, though unlikely, was rather disconcerting.

Snickering, the host snapped fingers. “That's the spirit! Now get those eyes covered!” He instructed, to which they gingerly obliged.

Brian Smith shot a demanding look to John, who had been quietly standing in a corner as ordered. Intimidated, the intern nabbed the free ends of cables coming from those headsets. Rushing toward a much bulkier piece of machinery, which itself was linked to a laptop, he plugged them in. Swiftly, the contestants lost consciousness.

Turning off said laptop, John typed away, organizing the setting. Fraught sweat beading his forehead, he addressed the host whilst coding. “I'm… sorry if it irks you, but you have to be careful,” he admonished. “I did my best tinkering with the system to minimize possible issues resulting from last time it got used, but I had to rush it, so there may still be cracks. Please… if it starts going awry, cut off the simulation. Otherwise, it could pose a severe threat to those experiencing it.”

Brian Smith turned his back to the intern. “Don't worry,” he huffed crossly, not catching him placing something on a drawer, which he subtly dotted with red marker. “I'm sure everything will go smoothly.” Whipping back round to narrow his eyes at the poor guy, he pointed to another headset — this one left in a corner. “Now get in, too!”

Upon setting the simulation to start in half a minute, John nervously nodded, dashing over. “Right away, sir.” Although anxious, he quickly put on his headset, consciousness receding as soon as his orbs were screened.

Ambling over to operate the laptop if needed, the host viewed the soon running simulation.

___________

Coming to first, John scanned his surroundings — an indestructible hut, lacking doors, windows or any other potential opening into the remainder of this realm. This structure was crafted as per his boss’ instructions — specifically, to ensure players couldn't accidentally stumble upon, or interact with, him.

Why did he even want me to announce stuff from within? He wondered, knowing they could just use the mic connected to the laptop to convey any announcements, without needing to step into the simulation itself. But then, his limbs commenced aching — not severely, but enough to leave him in constant discomfort. Oh… that's why…

Aware he couldn't do anything about it, he resigned himself to dealing with it until this concluded. Repressing the unpleasant sensation, he began speaking, having given himself the ability to project his voice across the whole map — to make things convenient.

“Rise now, final six!” he declared, endeavoring to emulate Brian Smith's tone, to an extent — though, he certainly didn't have the energy or smugness for it. “For this first hour, you won't be able to use your powers against each other — so, I recommend either scouring the area for one of the orbs, or simply familiarizing yourselves with your respective powers.”

___________

Waking to that announcement, Blake felt a difference immediately — his outfit… seemed heavier than before. Unfastening his eyes, he found himself prone on grass. Rubbing his head with a groan, he pulled himself afoot, taking stock of his garb.

Old-fashioned, much less revealing clothing now adorned him. A full-body, woolen outfit — with a hood and cape, imparting him a rather enigmatic aura. Like, a wizard?

“Interesting,” he mused. Recalling an hour had to pass before people could target each other, he shrugged. “Might as well try and figure out exactly what I can do. Something tells me I'm not gaining as many tricks as the average wizard…”

Sure enough, brief testing proved him right. He tried levitating things, casting spells, even reciting whatever gibberish his mind could conjure up that somewhat resembled incantations. Nothing panned out.

After failing to even magically uproot a blade of grass, he threw his hands up with frustration. “At this rate, a wooden sword would be more useful,” he muttered.

His ears twitched, picking up on fervent rustling, as it rapidly neared his location. Swiveling around, he squinted.

“Tom? Is that you?” He called out, vexed. No response — whatever produced that noise merely sprinted closer, blades of tall grass shaking in its wake. Slightly suspicious now, he adopted a fighting stance. “You do realize we can't hurt each yet, right-?”

A figure, too short to be said officer, leapt out, lunging his way. The surfer jumped off its path, rolling a couple feet away, startled. Orbs flitting to where the thing had landed, he got a decent look at the creature.

It bore repugnant, green-scaled skin — parched and flaking. Drool hung from its chapped, yellowish gum — from which jutted a serrated array of fangs. A permanent hunch characterized its posture, its shoulders not lining up. A vile, disgusting goblin, wielding a mace, itching to slam it on the surfer's head.

Amidst Blake's vain attempt to spot anything he could utilize to defend himself, the being hopped up and locked onto him again, charging forth. Screaming, the surfer held a hand forth in a clumsy effort to shield his face. Shutting his eyes, he braced himself for agony.

SWISH

Instead of pain overwhelming his senses, monstrous screeching flooded his ears. Bewildered, he unfastened his eyes — only to watch that hideous abomination fruitlessly blunder on the dirtpath, engulfed by relentless fire. Soon, its struggle ceased — leaving a lifeless goblin sprawled over soil, soon nothing but a charred husk.

Blake gazed at his hand. “I… did that…” He realized. Upon processing that, he squinted with determination and concentrated. Another second, and a sphere of flames hovered inches over his hand, its heat harmless to him. “Pyrokinesis…” He observed, before smirking triumphantly.

Contemplating his next move, a tall mountain some distance away caught his eye — one situated at the exact center of the map.

___________

Hanging from a tree branch, a mystical, made-up fruit swayed gently in the breeze, shining under artificial sunlight. However, a pebble cut this majestic shot short — hitting it squarely in the stem, detaching it from the branch, sending it plummeting down.

Folding both arms, Dan nodded. “Guess super precision is my special ability…” He mused. Fancy? Not really. But it could come in handy, for sure. Even so, he sighed wearily — unable to stop himself from wishing he'd gotten something flashier. Even his clothes remained the same. “I bet that jerk of a host did this on purpose…” He groused.

Rapid steps — way beyond the speed of even the quickest runner — interrupted his rumination. Fetching another rock and whipping round, Dan launched it the moment even a smidge of the figure emerged from tall grass.

“Ow!” It — or rather, she — yelped, flopping back onto the dirt. “What the hell was that for?” She exclaimed, getting up and dusting her cloak off. “You're lucky we can't inflict actual damage on one another yet!”

Eyes widening, Dan looked at the new arrival. “Fiore?” He gasped, before taking in her unamused expression, his mistake registering. “Sorry about that.” With that apology out of the way, he arched an eyebrow. “But why are you here? You said it yourself — we can't eliminate each other yet.” He narrowed his orbs, distrusting her momentarily. “Are you trying to follow me, so you have an easy kill the moment the hour is up?”

Facepalming, she shook her head, exasperated. “While you're right that you'd be the easiest to snuff out, that's not the reason.” Putting both hands up to ease his apprehension, she approached him. “I wanted to discuss something important.”

Following a few seconds of consideration, he sighed, his posture slackening slightly. “Fine, you can lower your arms,” he relented, much to her relief. However, he stayed cautious. “So, what is it?”

Fiore folded her arms, putting on an inquisitive persona. “Assuming you plan on sticking with your alliance to the end, how exactly do you plan on besting either of them — Blake especially?” She inquired, careful to focus on painting mainly the surfer as a threat. She recognized the bond between Dan and Alessandro — how attempting to persuade the former to turn on the latter this early would likely backfire.

With a somewhat worried hum, Dan exhaled strainedly. “I… am worried,” he admitted. “But the finale will probably have some eliminated contestants serve as support. In which case, I predict Blake will be at a disadvantage,” he pointed out.

Fiore responded with a deadpan face. “You think you'll get that much support yourself?” She questioned, sounding judgmental.

Growing defensive, he frowned. “Why wouldn't I?” He shot back.

Rolling her eyes, she began listing reasons, raising a finger for each. “Let's see… First, barely anyone cares for you. This one is obvious…” Seeing him wilt, she smirked and went on.

“Second, you've displeased many people. Nick's petty butt is probably still salty about you surviving over him. You orchestrated Tess’ elimination — which, along with likely making her not too eager to help you out, has definitely annoyed Hunter and Ally, too. And don't even get me started on the Ellie and Grett debacle.”

Head drooping briefly, he held up a hand to hush her before she could think up more examples. “I… see your point.” Inhaling deeply to regain some semblance of confidence, he stared back at her. “So, what exactly are you proposing?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Fiore scoffed, stomping forth a step. “I'm offering you the chance to dispose of that threat, before he takes both your chances of winning and your precious friend away!” She chastised.

Flinching away over those words, he gawked at her. Did she just imply Blake would take away…

“What do you mean by-?” Before he could finish, a jarring rattling noise prompted their heads to snap toward the source. Squinting, they discerned bluish illumination…

Starting toward it, Fiore swiftly took a large lead. She could already see what both had suspected — one of those coveted spheres, hovering and casting a limited amount of light. Although she had originally mocked the inclusion of super-speed as an ability within a fantasy setting, she no longer gave a crap about inaccuracy. Elation over such an easy victory deluged her, and she glanced over her shoulder, waving to the desperate nerd, as he lagged way behind.

“That's just how the game goes,” she taunted gleefully. “Try not to get too irritated to consider making the smart move-” A stone hit her squarely in the face. Tumbling down and losing her sense of direction, her momentum sent her body grinding across the soil and farther away from the sphere.

“Guess super-speed can be encountered!” Moments later, Dan had caught up and passed her. “All you need is extreme precision — guess the least flashy ability is the one winning this time, huh?” He chuckled, stopping before the orb and reaching for it.

Springing back onto her feet and quickly locating them, Fiore's eyes flared with resolve. “Oh no, you don't!” With a burst of super-speed, she shot toward it, extending a hand to touch it first.

Who succeeded? The wheel of fate landed on the most unlikely of prospects. Both their hands contacted the luminous sphere simultaneously. Warm light enfolded them, yet this abnormal occurrence made the process way slower than it should have been. Heat escalated, starting to get painful… Yet, they couldn't do anything…

___________

An unbearable headache assailed Dan's brain, as he came to. Feeling the weight of the headset, which seemed hotter than usual, he took it off. Eyes flicking over, he saw Fiore had roused as well. She pressed a hand to her temple, seemingly affected similarly.

“What the hell happened?” She groaned upon noticing him. “Shouldn't only one of us have been booted?”

“Yes, that should have been the case,” Brian Smith interjected before the nerd could reply, nettled. Getting off his chair, he approached them with his arms crossed. Eyeing the intern slouched on the hard, concrete floor, he scoffed. “That lazy asshole probably let a bug slip by unnoticed. What an incompetent moron.”

Once his head quit throbbing, Dan lifted a puzzled eyebrow. “Wait… if we both got warped off the simulation, what about immunity?” He wondered, getting Fiore to also train her gaze upon the host.

With an eye-roll, Brian Smith snarled. “Well, you were both taken off the simulation. And this was due to my employee's ineptitude… So, I guess it's only ‘fair’ that both of you get immunity,” he begrudgingly conceded.

That announcement made the two grin.

“Yes!” Dan cried out triumphantly. He almost found it surreal, having his spot in the final 5 secured. He was so close to making it, so close to showing everyone what he was truly capable of.

Tsking, Brian Smith leveled a finger to the exit. “Yeah, yeah — good for you two, now leave. I'll announce when the challenge is over…”

Motioning for the nerd to follow her, Fiore headed off with him in tow.

Once both were gone, the host returned to his post by the desk, monitoring the simulation. Just great. Now, if the other sphere was found, only two would be vulnerable tonight. All thanks to his inept worker…

—Confessional :Fiore—

“While I definitely would have gotten the sphere first, if not for that stupid throw, I'm glad things went down how they did.”

A menacing grin spread over her face, as she drummed the edge of her stump with her fingers.

“With both of us out early, I have extra time to persuade him.”

—Confessional :Dan—

He shifted awkwardly.

“Look, I know even entertaining taking Fiore up on her offer might be shitty,” he confessed, before crossing his arms and hardening his expression. “But I need to consider what's best for my game. I'll have her elaborate on the terms, and evaluate whether the risk is worth it…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“Something isn't right…” John mumbled. His debugging experience manifested within the digital realm, providing him an acute awareness of errors. Right now? He could sense vile omens pervading this entire domain. “Um… boss?” He called out, knowing Brian Smith should be able to hear him. “I have a bad feeling. Is everything running smoothly?” He quizzed, hoping the other would use the mic to reply.

Nothing.

Unfortunately for him, what he did encounter was tribulation. For choosing to place this enclosure on the edge of the map would prove to be his downfall.

It occurred so fast, he nearly didn't see it coming. The sole sign was one wall warping and flickering. Seconds later, it burst into a chaotic mismatch of meshes and misaligned textures. This glitch worsened, spreading throughout more of the structure, encroaching toward the horrified intern.

“Oh god, no!” He exclaimed, recoiling away. However, the absence of doors and windows made itself painfully clear — as his back pressed against the surface opposite where the corruption had commenced. “Boss?! Something has gone wrong! Please, you have to end the simulation!”

___________

Viewing this through that laptop, Brian Smith remained seated… and quiet. His orbs switched between John's virtual predicament and his unconscious body. Emotion filled him — wonder, that was.

Elbows resting upon the tabletop, he propped his chin in the dorsal side of both hands. A smirk crept into his face, evincing schadenfreude.

___________

Desperation overtook John, as his pleas went unheard. There was nowhere he could go — he was trapped.

“Sir?! Boss?! BRIAN SMITH?!” He exclaimed with skyrocketing terror. “PLEASE! HELP! HELP!” To no avail, as nearly the entire room was infested with this virtual plague, which now advanced toward him. Eyes prickling with tears, he hyperventilated, wishing he'd heeded all those warnings Julia gave him…

“PLEASE — I PROMISE I WON'T DISAPPOINT YOU AGAIN! I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST PLEASE, TAKE ME OUT OF THE SIMULATION BEFORE-!”

Too late.

___________

Sputtering, sizzling and crackling rang across the sector. Watching passively, the host's eyes reflected those electrical sparks.

___________

“So, have you thought about my offer?” Fiore inquired, facing the nerd as both sat on opposite logs.

Eyes fixed upon the unlit firepit, Dan's countenance scrunched up with concentration. “Why exactly would I give you guys the majority? How do I know you and Will won't just dispose of me and Alessandro afterward, then head to the finale with Tom?” He queried, requiring as much intel as possible to gauge how to proceed.

Acknowledging his concerns, she shrugged, unable to keep a smirk off her face. “Fair point — there would be nothing stopping us from doing that.” Before he could open his mouth, she proceeded. “But Tom, though less smart than you, Blake or Alessandro, is still a physical threat himself, and would likely garner almost all the support if the finale involves helpers.” She pointed out.

Folding his arms, Dan hummed. “I see…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. It was risky as hell for him, yet he did struggle to see why she would prefer facing off against Tom over him in the finale. Still, he tapped the log absent-mindedly, deliberating. “Ideally, how would this arrangement go? And why?”

Hopping off her billet, she rounded the firepit, drawing closer. “Simple… First, we take out Blake for being such a massive physical and strategic menace. Then, we eliminate Tom, for being a physical and social threat.” She outlined. “After that… well, it'll just be a matter of which side can outplay the other, I suppose. Regardless, the two of us are basically guaranteed a spot near the end.”

She proffered a hand. “Deal?”

Moments passed, but Dan ultimately accepted the handshake.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Yeah… I won't go along with targeting Tom at final five,” she shamelessly admitted. Throwing a leg over the other, she snickered. “If I did uphold that part of the deal, I'd be at risk of facing a tiebreaker at the final four.”

She leaned slightly closer, one hand cupped around her mouth in a mock-whisper.

“With Blake gone, I'll convince Tom to join me and Will in voting Alessandro off. Only then, at the final four, will I boot that himbo — exploiting Dan's desperation to coerce him into cooperating with Will and I that round.”

Dropping the whispering act, she preened.

“After that, as long as the final challenge isn't too physically-oriented, Will and I can gang up on Dan. Then, I'll outsmart Will. And if it is physical, I'll just team up with Dan for the first half instead — if there are helpers, I'm certain even I will have more options than him. No matter what, it's set in stone — I'll win.”

—Confessional :Dan—

Adjusting his beanie, he rolled his eyes.

“Do I trust Fiore? Hell no,” he huffed. “I bet she'll try and boot either me or Alessandro at final five. I bet she's making a confessional about that right now.”

Setting his palms on either end of his stump, he smiled. “But I conjecture her confidence is excessive. Given what Tom told me this morning, I doubt the fact Alessandro and I have an alliance with Blake will screw us over once the surfer's gone. After all, we have already worked together last round. As long as Blake goes now, I'm sure I can persuade Tom to flip next round, especially with the Grett ordeal.”

—End Confessional—

___________

How are these simulations so detailed, anyway? Fleeted past Alessandro's mind, perspiration coating his forehead. He couldn't dwell on it, however. Every ounce of power and energy had zeroed in on one objective… Evading the madness gaining ground behind him.

It must've been forty — maybe fifty — minutes since he first stirred within this digital domain.

The blatant cliff abutting an endless ocean a mile or so away had greatly facilitated his efforts to ascertain his location. Rather close to a border, as well as an inaccessible building. An absence of creatures prowling his surroundings, which he surmised resulted from his proximity to the realm's extremities, was also noted.

Committed to efficiency, he had hoped to expend that one-hour window systematically. First, he would discover his exact ability. With that done, he would seek out one of those orbs, aspiring to avoid needing to battle for immunity.

Two issues stymied his plans, however.

Despite his numerous attempts, he failed to identify his power. Rather frustrating, but nowhere near as bad as what followed — what chased him even now, in fact.

One moment, he'd been fruitless endeavoring to pinpoint his special trait. The next? That endless sea in the horizon had begun strobing and distorting, alongside the horizon. A sight reminiscent of extreme graphical glitches. No, not just reminiscent. That explained exactly what transpired. Many already found such anomalies unsettling within normal games.

Imagine what he felt, stuck inside this virtual world, beholding this phenomenon. It nearly petrified momentarily — pumping dread across his whole being. So, what prompted him to break into the mad sprint he currently maintained? The fact it was spreading. Thus, he found himself in his current plight.

Adrenaline coursed the model's veins. However, no supply of frantic energy could last forever. Although he hadn't begun slowing down yet, he could sense it coming. Strain seeping through his legs, his chest throbbing from an excessively high heartbeat. Despite doing his best to shove it off his mind, he couldn't overrule human limits. The truth narrowly peeked into his consciousness.

Whether in one or several minutes, he'd flag, and that worsening tsunami of corruption would catch up. Shudders ran down his spine just envisioning it, accompanied by echoes of screams he swore emanated from that unreachable structure, as it was swarmed — those ungodly bugs reducing it to nothing but more scattered polygons and textures, which flickered, swirled and mixed with the rest.

Had someone resided there? The possibility alarmed him, furthering his panic. Why had no one deactivated this simulation yet? Through the edges of his peripheral vision, he spotted spectacles that nearly sent bile erupting up his throat. Various creatures, whether hostile or not, getting entangled in that unfathomable disease — stripped of their shapes, individuality and whatever intelligence their programming allotted them, spasming, then crumbling apart into garbled data.

At the prospect of winding up that way, rivulets flowed down his cheeks. Only one or two people valued him for more than his looks, he thought. He couldn't let that abomination ruin his sole good attribute, to make him unsightly and revolting.

Struggling to outpace that corruptive mass, he began despairing. Forgetting the virtual nature of his predicament, he wondered whether this was it. His demise, courtesy of this world's encroaching erosion…

Atop that tree to your right…

The sudden instinct jolted him, yet his head snapped to face said evergreen regardless. Despite inner voices clamoring for him not to divert from his frantic sprint, he mustered whatever courage remained within, bursting toward it.

Reaching its base, the distance between him and that nightmarish wave plummeting drastically, he started desperately scaling the trunk. Jeers wracked his mind, ridiculing his decision.

Fool.

Worthless.

Suppressing a whimper, he surmounted the tree. Only seconds remained now. He nearly plunged into hopelessness, yet perceived a bluish shimmer at the last second. Not waiting to discern its source, his hand jerked forth to touch it — the corruption mere inches from contacting his back…

___________

Fringed by this madness was a looming mountain. It stood imposingly, as though oblivious to impending ruination. However, the same ignorance could not be ascribed to who had spawned upon its summit.

Reclining into the boulder that screened him from most angles, Will forced himself to even his breathing. Calm down, calm down — you don't want to freak out and accidentally demolish that boulder and have to look at… whatever that is… He told himself, orbs flitting to the crater he'd inadvertently created upon discovering his unique ability — preternaturally enhanced strength.

However, no might could assuage his horror at the gradual corruption of the world. In fact, his spot only granted him the opportunity to fully take in the calamity consuming this realm. Too petrified to venture out and scour the ever shrinking land for sphere-shaped salvation, he remained rooted to the spot, inwardly pleading for outside intervention.

Footsteps neared. The brickhouse froze. “No, no — please, not one of those discombobulated creatures…” He whimpered. Perhaps he regressed slightly there, but who wouldn't blanch upon picturing themselves as a disfigured component of that macabre mass?

The unknown party rounded the boulder, only to be met with a meaty fist, sending him careening. He landed mere inches from rolling down that mountain, possibly straight into garbled data by now.

“Ow…” A groan came, shocking the gentle giant — he recognized that voice! “Guess the hour has passed. Thought we'd get a heads-up…” Hauling himself afoot, Blake regarded the other apologetically. “Sorry for sneaking up on you like that. You looked out of it,” he exposited awkwardly, dusting himself off.

Averting his gaze, Will rubbed his elbow. “Shouldn't we… Um… be fighting now?” He inquired. Despite his aversion to violence, part of him would prefer it to interacting with the surfer. Realizing how fake their ‘friendship’ was this whole time had struck him hard. He didn't want to relive that.

Picking up on those emotions, Blake folded his arms, eyes drifting aside guiltily. Coming in, he never imagined himself getting attached to anyone. But the bond he formed with Alessandro drove him to rethink stuff. Repentant, he sighed.

“Can we… talk?” The surfer requested, despite knowing he'd broach the subject, no matter the answer. “I… want to clear the air.”

Blinking with disbelief, Will stared, nonplussed, for several moments. “I… don't know…” He admitted. Though half of him balked at the thought, another covertly yearned to listen — at least, in hopes of attaining closure. His eyes prickled with tears. “I… trusted you, Blake. You know that, right?”

Ashamed, the surfer winced. For a moment, he considered backing down. But soon abhorred that sentiment. Doing so would only spare himself whatever humiliation his brain interpreted this as — it wouldn't fix anything. If nothing else, the man before him deserved his candidness.

“I know there's no excuse for what I did. I befriended you for my own benefit, without thinking about your feelings,” he conceded, not sugarcoating it. Trying to downplay his actions would be disingenuous. “But I just want to say… I'm sorry.” A choked sob escaped him, alongside those heartfelt words.

The brickhouse hugged himself, astonishment suffusing his countenance. He scanned the other's facial features, attempting to detect any hints of scheming. Yet, he scrounged up none. Admissions from their previous challenge flashed through his mind, struggling to convince him this was a ruse. But why couldn't he identify signs to corroborate that?

“I-”

BANG

That boulder — the same one Will had used for concealment mere minutes ago — speared through the air, ramming squarely into him. Though videogame logic, alongside the high amount of HP assigned to the brickhouse, kept him from perishing on impact. However, physics functioned well enough to launch several yards away.

“WILL!” Blake exclaimed and reached out a hand, appalled. Watching the bulky man land, his heart palpitated — bewilderment momentarily freezing him — as momentum impelled the guy over the edge. “NO!” His tone cracked with sorrow, adrenaline expunging the fact this wasn't reality from his mind temporarily.

“I was trying to hit you…” another voice interjected, discomfitted. Discomfort imbued an ensuing chuckle, which infuriated the surfer more than ever. “Guess I didn't master my telekinesis, after all.” Another uncomfortable pause. “I mean, hey, at least Will won't get caught whatever the hell is approaching now, right?” Slight anxiety over the surfer's reaction became audible. “And I doubt he suffered that much — I mean, I stubbed my toe while running here, and it wasn't as bad as the time it happened at the police station-”

“You…” Blake interrupted with a hiss, his volume lower, yet brimming with anger. Turning around, he glowered at none other than his rival. Sphere-shaped combustion flared over either hand, raging briskly, reflecting what he harbored. “You want a fight, is that it? Whether deserved or not, it's what you've wanted since the start, right?” He growled.

“And… I guess we'll have that now, huh?” Swallowing his intimidation, Tom's orbs flicked to another boulder. Pointing and concentrating, it slowly ascended from the turf. “Well… I'd rather cut this short-” He yelped once a fireball bounced off his hand, dissipating above him. It hadn't harmed him severely, given how little power had gotten channeled into it. But it sufficed in snipping his focus — that rock banging the ground again.

“Nice try…” Blake snarled. Spreading both arms apart, he splayed his hands and locked in. Flames encircled the officer, trapping him. “But allow me to demonstrate a real show…”

His hands smacked together…

“Oh, shit!” Tom shouted. Fiery spheres charged him from every side of his supernatural enclosure.

His singular solace was this simulation's much lower regard for injury-related detail, especially compared to that nightmare it put them through last time. Otherwise, blisters would coat his skin in mere seconds.

Even so, despite their avatars being much more numb here, getting relentlessly pelted with blazing orbs remained far from pleasant.

Soon enough, Blake lifted one fingers — altering their trajectory. This brief respite was bound not to last, however — unable to escape, Tom watched myriad orbs gathering a few feet above him, converging into an inferno. That… would definitely drain his entire hp on impact — something obvious to the one conjuring them, given his smirk as he raised his hands, ready to slam it down upon his enemy.

“HELP!” A familiar cry suddenly halted the surfer, diverting his attention. It came from… where Will had fallen. “I… can't haul myself up.” Hanging from the ledge, he screwed his eyes shut to avoid glancing down. That ocean of broken materials, polygons and physics had consumed all but that very mountain — and wasn't done. To make things worse, his purported super-strength seemed to fail him

___________

Monitoring this scene, Brian Smith patted himself on the back once more — having done so mere minutes ago already, when he thought to keep Alessandro unconscious until the challenge wrapped up, so as not to risk intervention.

“Messing around with debug commands is quite fun,” he snickered over the debuff he'd set on the brickhouse, which would last for another minute.

___________

Snapped off his rageful frenzy, Blake darted over — the flames ceasing as his focus shifted away from them.

A choked sob burst from Will's lips. Panic escalated, as what little purchase his hand retained waned. He sensed it, too — that voracious corruption, scouring upward in pursuit of them. Worse still, even with his eyes shut, it soon became impossible not to hear it.

Jumbled noises dinned, exacerbating his breakdown. Mangled sound-effects — stemming from all the creatures caught and crooked into this monstrosity — clashed together into a maddening symphony. And yet, those weren't what truly sent him over the edge. Instead, it was a much fainter sound, which he somehow discerned amidst this cacophony…

Screams…

Freaking out, he screeched, flailing his legs about, not helping matters. Simulation or not, he knew — thanks to some deep, primal instinct that only extreme situations brought to the surface — that it could kill.

His hand slid further. And then… it slipped completely, milliseconds seeming to stretch on for several minutes. The brickhouse braced himself for an agonizing demise…

Only for a hand to catch his wrist in a vice grip. Taken aback, he reluctantly unfastened his eyes, meeting the familiar visage of a certain surfer.

“B-Blake?” He uttered feebly — his words drowned out by the ascending havoc under them — wondering whether this was a desperation-induced mirage. However, this notion was disproven quickly, as the man commenced hauling him back up. “You…” He trailed off, processing it.

Blake grunted, exerting himself further to heft the brickhouse. “Just pull yourself up!” That demand snapped him back to focus, and he regained awareness of the ravenous infestation that neared his pendulous feet — adrenaline pumping through him again.

Mustering whatever strength lingered, Will grasped the ledge with his free hand. Several moments later, their combined efforts succeeded — and he lay on solid ground once more.

“I…” Panting, he grappled with articulation. Taking a proffered hand, he was helped afoot. Necessitating a few seconds to catch his breath, he eventually composed himself enough to address the surfer. “Blake… I…” He commenced, guilt over his earlier reluctance to listen welling within.

Shaking his head, Blake heaved an exhausted puff himself. “It was the least I could do after the crap I put you through,” he assured. “No need to thank me. I just… I'm sorry, okay?” He gulped down a sniffle, embracing himself and averting his gaze. “I knew how lost and afraid you were back then, and took advantage of it — it was a shitty thing to do.” Letting his arms flop against his sides, his head drooped. “And I'll understand, if you never forgive me. I… just wanted to apologize — you deserved that, at least…”

Silence enfolded them, prompting the surfer to shut his eyes. He steeled himself for an unpleasant verdict — harsh confirmation that he'd crossed too many lines to even dream of a chance at redemption. Instead, the brickhouse embraced him — joyful droplets dripping onto his shoulder.

“I forgive you… You… you really do have a heart…” Will stated, rejoicing.

Unable to prevent tears from leaking down his cheeks, Blake chuckled. “Yours is much bigger than mine,” he affirmed, reciprocating this gesture. “Thank you…” He trailed off. A large shadow was cast over them, reminding him he'd forgotten another party. Pupils darting upward, he stiffened. This didn't pass unnoticed.

Arching an eyebrow, the brickhouse shook him gently. “B-Blake-?” He was shoved toward the center of the summit, tumbling onto his backside. Before he could even gasp, the boulder that had struck him slammed onto where he'd stood a moment ago.

A crimson outgush stained surrounding grass. Eyes widening, it once again slipped his mind how this wasn't reality. His brain lagged in its struggle to register this occurrence. Blake was no more… Just after they reconciled. His mouth fell agape, expelling an ugly sob. Tears cascading down his face.

“Blake… no…” He wept, before his head whipped round. Eyes locking onto the culprit, he sprung onto his feet. “How… HOW COULD YOU?!” He yelled, catching him off-guard.

Flinching back, Tom held both hands forth defensively. He hadn't predicted such backlash — much less from Will, of all people.

Then again, he didn't expect his main adversary to sacrifice himself for the brickhouse either. Call it underhanded, but he'd looked forward to a clean victory — crushing both whilst they hugged out their strife. Perhaps he should've anticipated given the surfer's perception a little more credit.

“It's… just a simulation,” Tom reminded nervously. Gaze switching between his irate fellow and the now tainted rock, he sneakily used his power to start raising the latter again. “And, well, isn't it a good thing he got booted from it? Just look at the state of this place,” He argued, as corruption now edged the summit, gradually closing in on them. “We should really end this.” He soon had it hovering over the other. “Sorry, but I'd rather guarantee my safety-”

___________

Viewing this ordeal, the host nodded smugly. Just what this challenge needed — a showdown between an underdog and fan-favorite. Taking a cursory look over debug commands, his smirk grew, catching the last few seconds of a certain debuff count down.

“This will be good…” He mused, the sparks of electricity sputtering nearby not fazing him in the slightest. Knowing this amusing display was drawing to a close, he slid another mic — one connected to the loudspeaker system — instructing Fiore and Dan to report back. That done, he drummed his fingers over the desk.

___________

Swinging both arms down, Tom intended to end this swiftly. However, his motion triggered the brickhouse to act. Leaping forward at the last second, Will narrowly evaded defeat. Exploiting the officer's bewilderment, he lunged forth, ramming into him.

“You're not winning immunity!” He shouted, overflowing with indescribable wrath and determination. He concluded this in a hasty, yet fitting fashion — cracking the other's skull open with a reinvigorated blow.

The sole survivor surveyed what fringed him — roaring pandemonium, born from absolute corruption. Steadying his nerves so as not to crack like last time, he balled his fists and braced himself — unsure whether this madness would cut off before it consumed him…

___________

Stark light showered over Alessandro. Noticeable, even as his eyes remained fastened. Stirring, he hesitated to open them.

Thoughts wavered, hazed and indistinct. Until flashes of his virtual plight resurfaced, stoking his distress. Those characters — their convulsions, contortions and corrosion. That flickering and warping of reality. Oh god, the screaming from that building as it broke down…

Recalling his despair over potentially facing that fate, chills shot up his spine. He trembled, perspiration beading his forehead — if he still possessed one. Unable to cope with paranoia, he ran a jittery hand down his torso, before bringing it up to trace the contours of his face.

Only once he'd thoroughly ascertained that nothing appeared out of place, did he unfasten his orbs…

Fine… He was fine…

Groans and pants reached his ears, as he glanced around the comfortingly drab room.

“Um… why do you all look so shaken?” A familiar voice wanted over. Entering the area, Dan headed to his friend's side, whilst also scanning the others’ expressions. Regardless of how he viewed Blake currently, he knew the surfer wouldn't be this rattled over nothing.

Sticking by the doorway, Fiore frowned. “Even though at least half of you are pussies, this is a little too hysterical, even for you,” she concurred, arms crossed.

Rubbing the back of his head, Blake sighed. “Guess you two just weren't there by the time things went off the rails,” he surmised. Aware he and Tom hadn't won immunity, his orbs flitted across the rest. “So, were the orbs even found?”

Nettled shuffling interrupted their exchange. Muttering to himself, Brian Smith finished installing a portable curtain — cloaking a corner from the campers’ view. Although none of them managed to glimpse whatever hid there, this did raise some eyebrows. It took him a couple moments to pick up on their inquisitive stares.

Deportment straightening, he strained on that smarmy smile before whipping around to greet them. “Right, the challenge is over…” He announced redundantly, fending off the hiss itching to tinge his tone.

Most exhilaration derived from that climatic showdown had been drained from the stress of… needing to cover up a certain mess quickly. Perhaps teaching that fool a lesson wasn't the best solution — the workload it entailed definitely imparted a bitter aftertaste.

Rolling his eyes, Blake threw a hand up. “We know that,” he stated, deadpanning. Upon eliciting nothing beyond an exasperated look, he facepalmed. “We're wondering who won immunity…” He clarified.

Inwardly cursing his own forgetfulness, the host forced out a chuckle. “Oh, right…” Trying to lighten up the mood, he clapped with realization; however, his inordinate intensity wound up putting the contestants off further.

“Well, you see — thanks to an oversight from… an intern of mine…” Needing to clear his throat to rid himself of a brief snarl, he pointed at Fiore and Dan. “Those two both got immunity from the same sphere, which did cause major… complications…” He exposited.

Regaining his bearing enough to stand, Tom scowled. “Yeah… ‘complications’,” he mocked that effort to lightly downplay the madness they went through.

The host narrowed his orbs, about to snipe back. However, noticing how Blake and even Will shared the officer's sentiment, he backed down, opting to instead switch gears.

“His failure to repair the system properly also allowed the ensuing glitch to disable certain debug functions — including the command meant to deactivate the simulation in case things went awry, or to even boot you from it manually.” He averted his gaze, sighing to affect regret. “I apologize. Despite my inclination to enjoy… putting you through drastic situations for ratings, I wouldn't want to intentionally endanger your lives…”

Though shaken, Will had to broach a glaringly glossed over point. “But what about what happened to Ellie? You… didn't seem too remorseful then…” He mentioned.

Swallowing the many snide remarks tipping his tongue, Brian Smith folded his arms. “I admit my response back then was rather…” He grappled with finding a suitable term. “...flippant. But I didn't want to mire the season in even more controversy by continuing to bring it up afterward. But I guess that didn't matter in the end…”

Upon getting no further questions, be tucked both hands behind his back, taking a deep breath as though composing himself. “Back to Blake's question, however… as I told Fiore and Dan, it would be unfair to penalize either for something they had no control over. Thus, both have immunity,” he reiterated, before moving on. “Alessandro got the other sphere, so he also has immunity. And, finally, as the last man standing, Will won the final immunity… which…”

“Means Tom and I are the only ones vulnerable tonight,” Blake completed. Trading an awkward glance with the guy in question, it dawned upon both. Their feud was destined to meet its conclusion, in mere hours — no matter which of their runs ended tonight.

Feeling for the surfer, Alessandro reached over, setting a solacing hand on his shoulder with an empathetic expression.

“Okay then…” Dan chimed in, twiddling his thumbs. Knowing the consequences his decision would have, he endeavored to change the topic — his orbs soon locking onto what their host had set up. The partition roused curiosity… and suspicion. “Hey… what's up with those curtains, anyway?” He inquired.

Hearing his best friend's remark, the model arched an eyebrow, too. “That's a good question,” he concurred, wanting to take their minds off the upcoming ceremony for a moment. “I'm pretty sure it wasn't there prior…”

Tensing up, Brian Smith couldn't articulate an answer. He had prayed they wouldn't question that. What to do now? At first, he considered dismissing their concerns. However, as the other four commenced visibly expressing intrigue, too…

He settled on another approach…

“Guess keeping secrets is pointless now, right?” Heaving a weary breath, he gestured toward those curtains. “Fine, I'll be honest. When conceiving this challenge, we actually wanted to insert some fear into it.”

Scrunching up her face, Fiore huffed. “Didn't we already have the horror round for that?”

The host raked his fingers across his jet-black strands. “Yes, but the intent here wouldn't be for the whole thing to be horror themed, as we knew that wouldn't be so effective anymore,” he expounded. “Instead, our idea was setting up a prop to scare you guys with after you came to. But… after what happened? I think it's best if you don't see it…”

“I suppose that makes sense…” Will conceded.

Shaking her head, Fiore did an eye-roll. “Speak for yourself…” She eyed the blocked corner, narrowing her gaze. “I'm curious…” She folded her arms. “Besides, it's not like it can be any worse than the fucked up shit we endured last time we used VR.”

Supposing a bold attitude might aid his likely ailing public image, Dan raised a hand. “I'm interested, too. Can't be that bad. Besides, I feel a little left out, given I didn't even stay in the simulation for a whole hour.”

“What happened there really isn't something you'd want to be included in,” Blake quipped, only to flinch slightly at the nasty side-eye he received.

Tom shrugged.

“Um… I guess Dan is right. It can't be that bad, can it?” Alessandro concluded, despite the apprehension welling within.

Faking a defeated look, Brian Smith slumped his shoulders. “Fine… if you want to see it, I won't stop you…” Grasping one end of the portable curtain, he repressed unfathomable glee, pretending what he was about to do anguished him greatly. “Just… don't say I didn't warn you all…”

Yanking the textile away, he unveiled an unnerving sight.

Eyes bulging, Will recoiled — color draining from him, a gasp bursting off his gaping mouth. “What the hell is that?” He exclaimed.

“I admit… we went a little too overboard on the detail while crafting this…” The host observed. “Started making it after the horror challenge, even redirected much funding intended for the last three rounds into this — that's why two were so simple, and the musical one… ended how it did…” He confessed, feigning despondency. “In hindsight, an awful budgetary decision.”

The… dummy? Animatronic? Slouched against the corner, its fingers and feet twitched occasionally with electricity. Its features were painstakingly elaborate — so life-like, the final six might have mistaken this for an actual carcass, had they not been apprised of its nature.

Brian Smith grimaced as its pungent stench wafted forth, backing away from the site. “Actually stuffing it with burnt rotten meat also was a stupid idea.” He appended, his revulsion coming organically — watching similar reactions come from the contestants, as this reek soon pervaded the air.

Dry-heaving, Will sensed bile scaling his throat. Stumbling out the door, he rushed to hurl outside, his rapid footsteps soon fading away.

“That's not even scary, just repugnant,” Fiore scorned. Plugging her nose, she waved a hand to try and swat this foul odor away. “Can we leave now? I'd rather not risk falling sick while competing.”

Brow furrowing, Tom nodded. “I agree with her,” he gagged. Despite his former profession theoretically requiring an iron-stomach — given some missions could force you to face harsh conditions — he'd never developed high tolerance. Although doubtless not the main culprit behind his failure as a spy, it only further exemplified how he wasn't fit for it. “I think I might puke…”

Fiore deadpanned. “If you're that easily brought to vomiting, how the hell do you even handle violent crime sites?” She snarked, only to be ignored.

Demonstrating an understanding front, Brian Smith nodded. “Right… you can all go now. Given what happened, the fact I've already had you attend elimination ceremonies without giving a break post-challenge a few times, as well as… this mess you're seeing over there… I'll give you guys four hours today.” He announced, prompting all five to walk away without delay.

Exiting the mess-hall, Alessandro felt his stomach churn slightly — unable to tear dummy off his mind. Despite not showcasing an overt response like a few others, he couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong…

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I've never seen a replica so realistic before…” He confessed, rubbing his forearm. “But I guess someone who's actually had the chance to regularly come in with film props on set would be able to spot flaws…”

Shaking his head, he changed the subject.

“Also, I'm kind of sad I'll have to part with my totem tonight…” Realizing how that sounded, he quickly proceeded. “Don't get me wrong — it's worth it to ensure Blake stays. But after nearly being voted off last round, and almost getting consumed by… that thing today?” Propping his chin in his hand, he heaved an exhausted breath. “I can't help but wish I could keep this safety net a little longer…”

—End Confessional—

Sensing how much the model — and almost everyone else, really — seemed to have in their minds, Blake hummed.

—Confessional :Blake—

Hands planted on his stump, he let out a long sigh.

“Well… I doubt we can get any of the other three to flip.” He admitted, before raising his head. “But honestly? I know I can trust Alessandro, so I'll still have a chance in the tiebreaker — whatever happens, happens…”

Crossing both arms behind his head, he reclined into the trunk. This time, however, he effused no smugness.

“Call it sappy… but after everything that's happened today? I think I'd rather relax a little before the ceremony…”

—End Confessional—

Hastening lightly momentarily, he halted and turned around to face the other four. “Hey…” He commenced, spreading his arms apart. “I know we are divided into two factions, but given all that's happened, how about we all head over to the beach to unwind and have fun?” He proposed.

“Um… why?” Tom questioned, eliciting an eye-roll from Fiore. The girl could respect good old-fashioned skepticism, but she wagered genuine caution wasn't on the himbo's mind.

Letting one hand fall against his side, the surfer massaged the back of his head with the other. “Well, after everything that's happened, and considering a tiebreaker between both of us is inevitable basically — I figured we may as well not be at each other's throats, even if only for a few hours,” he explained.

Comforted, Alessandro nodded, regarding the others. “That's a good idea. I mean, we know none of us have much reason to flip tonight. If the result won't change either way, we may as well have a good time, right?” He concurred.

Discreetly sending Fiore a pointed, yet conflicted glance, Dan stepped forth, pumping a fist. “Yeah… it would do us so good not to stress out for a moment. Especially after how turbulent these past few days have been,” he pointed out.

Dissembling her smugness, Fiore shrugged. “I guess I can live with that. I'll even go fetch Will myself.” She elbowed Tom. “How about you?”

Not feeling petty enough to dissent, Tom folded his arms with a frazzled huff. “Fine…” He relented. “I guess fretting 24/7 will do us no good…” He conceded.

—Confessional :Tom—

“Quarreling all the way to the ceremony would just be redundant and obnoxious.” He admitted, propping his chin in his palm. “I would be mad over the whole fireball incident…” Wincing, he averted his gaze. “But I guess it would be hypocritical, since I did crush him when he got busy saving Will…”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Kicking her feet, she giggled.

“I have to admit… Hearing Blake be so sure tonight will come to a tie, while knowing he's about to get betrayed by that nerd?” She smirked. “Makes me feel nostalgic.” Fondness tinted her tone. “After all these years, I feel like I can control things again — like in season 1…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Ambling over, she grimaced upon finding Will. The brickhouse was hunched over by an oak, a hand holding onto its bark for support, not done barfing. Even the cluster of birds — the only type of animal, aside from that random wolf, that seemed to inhabit Tipiskaw — lined up on a nearby branch soared off, repelled.

Averting her gaze with a tsk, Fiore folded her arms. “I'm aware that, unlike your fears, you can't exactly control whether or not you start hurling all over,” she allowed. “But are you really that queasy? I mean, given you live on a farm and presumably do work there, aren't you constantly exposed to noxious animal dung every day?”

Tensing awkwardly, he sighed. “Actually… Ashley gave that role to her younger sister…” He revealed. As much as he adored his girlfriend, that choice weirded him out to this day.

Managing to recall an exchange from episode one, Fiore blinked with slight shock. However, reflecting a bit further, she deadpanned. “You mean, the one who's apparently my age? I'd call that strange, but honestly? Guess it's not that out of nowhere, no offense.”

His stomach fully emptied by now, Will breathed heavily. Moments later, he managed to regain composure. “Um… Why did you come here, by the way?” He quizzed.

“Basically, the host is giving us twice the time before the ceremony. And Blake suggested we quit getting on each others’ throats for the afternoon, and come hang out at the beach. Says that, given it's clear the votes will tie tonight either way, we may as well not sweat it.” She explained, before cracking a smirk. “We may as well humor him, given the shock he's about to get..” She giggled.

“Oh…” Came from his lips, his figure tensing imperceptibly. Although he preferred not to bother requesting she elaborate — aware doing so could rouse suspicion — he could see she was confident. Averting his gaze, his countenance tightening. “I… I think I'll pass.”

Arching an eyebrow, she tapped her foot. “Why?”

Heaving a weary sigh, the brickhouse sat down, back resting against the trunk. “I… know I said I no longer had trouble voting against Blake. But… stuff happened in the simulation,” he expounded. “And… I think it's better if I stay away from him until the ceremony — just to make sure I don't get taken by emotion…” He reasoned.

Frowning over his admission, Fiore folded her arms. However, her expression soon softened. “Well… I suppose it's good you recognize your own weakness, and want to take measures to prevent it from affecting our game.” She conceded. “Fine… I'll tell the others you want some time alone because you still feel sick. Just make sure you're not late to the ceremony.”

Once she departed, Will embraced himself, his gaze downcast and mind weighed.

—Confessional :Will—

“After what happened to Blake… I don't feel comfortable voting him off…” He admitted, caressing his elbow. “I'm not sure what to do, so I hope a couple hours of solitude will be enough for me to work it out.”

—End Confessional—

___________

“Final 5… we're both really there…”

Palms resting on the pinkish-red towel he'd been supplied, Dan cocked his head upward. Surveying the cloudless, bright expanse overhead, he ruminated over his journey briefly…

Recalling how he found himself on the chopping block the very first episode, he cringed. Merely envisioning how much mockery might have befallen him, had that truly marked his end, sent shivers down his spine.

Recollecting those early rounds, it dawned on him how often he scraped by via unfettered luck alone. On the third ceremony, without that advantage and Alessandro's machinations, he would've been toast. Following that, their team won both remaining pre-merge rounds — and Alessandro had gotten Blake to throw that last one for them.

Head lolling down, he fixed his gaze onto sandy grounds. Well… at least he'd somewhat played a part in ensuring Hunter remained against Alec that round, right? Though, had the guy actually been that close to siding with the librarian?

Final 10… He realized. Despite his drive to prove himself this season, it took him that long to get going. Even then, he reverted to being a mess two rounds later, and needed someone else to spend a totem to save him. Thus, cutting off those instances wherein he marred whatever credibility he garnered, it really took until the final 7… Assuming he wouldn't embarrass himself again…

“I suppose that happens when good players come together,” Alessandro's velvety lilt cut off best buddy's brooding. The model draped an arm over his shoulder. “I couldn't have made it this far without you, you know?”

Arching an eyebrow, Dan stroked his chin, confounded. “What do you mean?” Slight astonishment tinged his tone. “You got me past even the first couple ceremonies. Every strategy that allowed us to even reach merge? Your ideas. I… barely helped out…” He pointed out, downhearted.

Withdrawing the limb, Alessandro gripped both his shoulders. Gazes interlocking, he held a stern expression. “Don't deprecate yourself like that,” he insisted. “So, what if I saved you from elimination before? Last round, I would've gotten booted, had you not convinced Tom to turn on Grett.”

Though appreciative, Dan remained unsure. “But… he only turned on her thanks to the plan you devised,” he reminded. “I just carried out the last step of something you came up with.”

“So what? We're allies — it's almost always the effort of multiple that makes alliances succeed, not just one. And ours certainly isn't an exception,” Alessandro asserted. “And if people watching want to argue otherwise, remember how, for all their criticism, most of them would commit even more blunders.”

Allowing himself to smile, the nerd regarded him gratefully. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

“No problem, truly,” Alessandro assured, coiling one arm around his. “Don't forget. It's both of us, plus Blake, to the end.”

“Yeah…” He agreed as convincingly as possible. Eyes wandering, they caught a certain girl smirking their way — he could practically see her suppressing a giggle.

___________

“Man… I really wish there were some actual waves to catch here…” Blake mused, vibing with around half his body submerged. Although he didn't regret proposing this break, it was unfortunate how both his alliancemates had elected to loll ashore. “Getting to use my surfboard would be wicked…”

Whipping round, he waved toward both his allies. As the model returned this gesture, he couldn't help but beam. It was… nice to have friends.

Another figure bumped into the surfer's calf, cutting his ponderations short. Instinctively moving a foot or two away, he watched a certain officer surface. Moods dampened, their gazes intertwined. Despite this continued tension, however, both housed some shame.

Inhaling, Blake ventured to commence conversation. “I… sorry about what happened in the simulation.” The other flinched back, taken off-guard. “For a moment, I forgot it was VR, not to mention I thought Will had plummeted down the cliff. So… I lashed out.”

Befuddled, Tom needed several moments to regain composure. Once he did, he hummed thoughtfully. He hadn't anticipated this apology; however, he now felt as though it would be remiss not to return it. “I… I guess I'm kind of sorry about crushing you so nonchalantly, right as you were busy talking to Will…”

Blake handwaved, causing brief, short ripples upon dipping his hand onto water. “It's fine. Remaining mad over that would make me a hypocrite, anyway…”

Following swift rumination, he rubbed the back of his head.

“Since one of us is guaranteed to go tonight… I was wondering if we could end things on a respectful note?” He broached. “Obviously, we'll both still give it our all in the tiebreaker. And I understand if you still hate me. But… I'd rather we avoid leaving a sour taste in both our mouths. What do you say?” He proposed, extending a hand.

Understandably, the officer needed several moments to deliberate. On one hand, the surfer cheated on his boyfriend — and both were on each other's throats for most of the game. On the other, Tom knew claiming he hadn't changed was disingenuous. Besides, their vendetta had grown… exhausting.

Heaving a weary breath, he accepted the handshake. “As long as you don't go back on it when I kick your butt tonight,” he taunted, unable to keep a smirk off his lips.

Blake guffawed, orbs glinting with conviction as well. “Hope you follow your own advice, if things don't go your way,” he teased in return.

___________

“Attention, campers!” Brian Smith's voice blared through loudspeakers eventually, heralding the end of leisure. “Just hopping in to announce you guys have half an hour left. If I were you, I'd start preparing for the ceremony — especially if your name is either Tom or Blake.”

___________

“There's nothing we can do either way, so you shouldn't stress over it,” Blake soothed a certain model, who had expressed concern over his well-being. “I'm ready to give that tiebreaker my best shot, and win. And if I somehow lose? Well, that would suck, but I'll live.” Cracking a smirk, he patted his shoulder. “Besides, you two survived the Savage Raccoons just fine, so I'm sure you'd bounce back either way.”

Interstices littered the canopy hanging over them, allowing evening sunlight to percolate, casting warm, orange-yellow spots across the dirtpath. Wanting some degree of privacy, the trio had elected to lag behind.

Folding his arms, Alessandro pouted. “Don't jinx it,” he scolded playfully. Expression softening, a slight plea tinted his grayish-green pupils, as they fixated upon his surfer friend. “But seriously, please, give it your all tonight. I really want the three of us to continue advancing together…”

Touched, Blake nodded with a broad grin. “Hey, just because I wouldn't throw a tantrum if I lost, doesn't mean I don't plan on acing whatever the host throws at me and Tom,” he declared. Crossing his arms, he gave him a jaunty wink. “And I also couldn't have asked for better people to dominate this competition with.”

Steering over so as to avoid those illuminated patches, Dan pumped a fist. “Same here,” he assured, putting on a faux smile — its strain masked by shade. Feeling very uncomfortable right now, he clutched his stomach. “I… I'm forging ahead, getting pretty hungry.” He hastened forth before either could offer to accompany him.

Still, Alessandro quickened his pace somewhat, about to call out to him.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I know backstabbing is part of the game, but that doesn't suddenly erase the shame.” He vented. “It's not even stemming from how I'm about to vote off Blake, but more the fact I'll be going behind Alessandro's back to do so.”

Steeling himself, he crossed his arms.

“I hope he understands it's just the game.”

Even so, he couldn't stop his eyes from drifting aside.

—End Confessional—

Though barely audible, the model's ears caught a yelp.

“Blake?” He called quietly, spinning round. The surfer had vanished. Eyes dilating, his head darted side to side in an attempt to spot him. But then, faint rustling piqued his interest. Trudging into undergrowth, he soon discerned two figures chatting. Squinting, he strained to listen.

___________

Whiplashed off the beaten path, Blake jerked his head round to check his captor. His apprehension abated greatly, however, once his orbs locked onto those of an apologetic brickhouse.

Freeing the surfer's hand, Will backed a couple steps. “I'm… sorry about yanking you over without warning,” he stammered, fidgeting. “You were sticking with Alessandro and Dan all the time. And I know I'll get in trouble eventually, but I…” He heaved a weary sigh, countenance contrite. “I'd rather not deal with it before the ceremony…”

Blake gripped his shoulder firmly, taken aback and puzzled. “Slow down, take a deep breath, and count to three,” he urged, seeking to allay his panic. Clearly, his ravings would make zero sense, if the guy's agitation didn't subside. Upon compliance, he nodded and spoke again. “Now, start from the beginning. What do you want to discuss?”

“I just… I can't vote you off…” Hugging himself, his orbs watered lightly. “Not when you're only on the chopping block because you bothered to save me.” Diverting his eyes, he gulped down a sob. “But I told Fiore and Tom I would.” Regaining his bearing slightly, his head drooped.

Pitying him, Blake rubbed an elbow. “And betraying his trust would feel dirty, right?” He hypothesized softly. “You'd be voting off someone you care about.”

Shutting his eyes at those words, Will tensed with shame. Perhaps recent events had prompted his cowardice to resurface, or maybe it stemmed from this being the first time he really divulged his changed opinion directly to someone other than her. Likely, a combination. Nevertheless, he eventually unscrewed his eyes.

“I- It's not Tom I'm worried about upsetting,” he quavered. The need to amend his statement swept through him immediately. “Don't get me wrong. I don't dislike him or anything, but we haven't interacted much…”

The surfer didn't require further clarification. “Oh…” He let out, before picking up on Will's sheepish expression. “Nothing wrong with it — to be honest, seeing so many people hold grudges against a child, both in the finale of season one and during All-Stars, was a bit uncomfortable…” He shrugged. “Just didn't expect you both to let bygones be bygones, especially with you being apprehensive about working with her at the start.”

Expression scrunching up whilst he surveyed the grass below, the cowardly giant heaved a dejected breath. “I know I've been averse to her for years, but now? After finding out what she's been through, I feel like a complete asshole…” Realizing she probably wouldn't want her situation exposed, he facepalmed, cursing himself.

“I assume it's something that's better off not getting revealed right now.” Upon receiving a nod, Blake patted his shoulder. “No worries, I won't pry.”

Despite gratitude flashing across Will's face, it soon fell. “Though… I think she may just go back to hating me after tonight — and I won't be able to blame her…”

Taking a long breath, Blake clasped his wrists — orbs gleaming gravely upon locking onto the brickhouse's. “Look… I don't want you to do something you'll regret later…” He stated.

The bulkier man's eyes popped, disbelief flooding his features. He… He must have misheard, right? “W-WHAT-?!” He exclaimed, only for a hand to clamp over his mouth.

“Listen.” Blake regarded him earnestly, removing the hand and proceeding once the other nodded. “With all the crap I've put you through, I truly appreciate how you've even considered sparing me. Trust me, I do.” He assured. “But, and especially if you fear it may end that badly, I'd rather not force you to put your game — or bonds — at risk for my sake.”

“But… you would've gotten immunity, had you not gotten distracted by rescuing me,” Will whimpered, feeling an obligation to repay him.

Shaking his head, he chuckled. “The fact you've even forgiven me for deceiving you early on is already far beyond what I deserved for that so-called ‘sacrifice’ of mine.” He reassured. “Really, I'm fine with taking my chances with the tiebreaker. Understood?”

“Y-Yeah.” The brickhouse strained on a smile. “Thank you, really. I… wish you good luck tonight…” Despite his words, as soon as they parted ways, his orbs flitted to the side.

“I… still can't…” He uttered, defeated.

Although Blake was out of earshot, another party overheard it. Perking up, the model evanesced from the scene — the rattle of leaves too quiet for the brickhouse's heavy mind to make out — resuming his journey back to camp.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Will's clearly not following through with voting against Blake — that expression said it all.”

Tone evincing great relief, he raised a finger.

“Given this challenge shook most of us, and how he seemed more sad than angry yesterday, I doubt he'd manage to put on an act that convincing. That means four votes against Tom…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Flames lashed air ferociously, crackling a couple feet behind Brian Smith's back. Balling his fist, he narrowly held off a snarl.

It wasn't solely exasperation plaguing him, however. Under that nettled veil, anxiety simmered. It dawned on him just how much risk his extreme pettiness put him in. Of course, he didn't give a flying fuck from a moral standpoint. But this could ruin his career…

He could only hope an increased bribe would suffice to keep his editing crew acquiescent. Considering what he already got them to cover up — and how readily they'd been swayed — he logically had little to fuss over. However, acts of such magnitude always presented great danger, no matter how many precautions were taken…

Oh, right… He had a ceremony to host. Eyeing the final six, he frowned. That final five challenge really sucked… But whatever.

Clearing his throat, Brian Smith elevated his arms, grinning mirthlessly. “Well… well, here we have our final six.” He hummed. “Got to say, quite the unusual selection.”

Gesturing over Fiore and Tom, both exchanged raised brows. “We have some fan-favorites.” Then toward Alessandro and Blake, who seemed placid and determined, respectively. “Both our newbies…” Lastly, Will and Dan. “And those who are just now making names for themselves…” he snickered, “even if not for the best of reasons~”

Averting his gaze, Will shifted in his stump.

Crossing both arms, Dan stared daggers toward the host. That bastard had some nerve. “Oh, you're one to talk after that blunder today,” he spat.

Narrowing his orbs, Brian Smith seethed. “I'd watch it, if I were you.”

The nerd shrugged. “I've got immunity — no amount of vote rigging will get rid of me tonight,” he pointed out, disregarding his best buddy's concerned glance. Unseen by anyone else, Fiore smirked.

Rolling his eyes, the host waved dismissively. “Whatever, get voting!” His words were enough to dampen the nerd's mood.

___________

“Alright…” Brian Smith mumbled, counting the last vote. Despite his predicament, a smirk crossed his face. Oh, this was juicy. In fact, too stupendous not to dial up the drama… Good thing the chosen tiebreaker required all that equipment, he thought, turning toward a heap to his right — one shrouded by a blank sheet.

Shaking his head, he refocused on the contestants. Wouldn't want them to catch on.

“If any of you have any advantage you'd like to cash in tonight, this is your sole chance to do so.” He declared, grinning broadly, as he spotted Alessandro shifting slightly, before ultimately stilling again. “Okay then…”

Checking his nails, he trod casually to the draped mound. Sticking his hand in, he extricated a laptop. Humming, he unfolded it, hopping through folders — until, at last, he scrounged up the most recent set of video files.

By now, the final six had figured out the trick he was pulling. Half raised eyebrows, given this ceremony didn't seem the most propitious occasion — with only a pair being vulnerable, and all. The other, however, knew what their host sought to bring up. One smirked, another tensed and the last forced on a poker face.

Turning the display to face them, Brian Smith sniggered. “Here you go.” He clicked play.

___________

Tom scrawled the name down, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I guess it's better that we aren't spiteful over this whole thing.” He inserted it in the urn. “Even so, this is for you, Jake. I'll give it my all in the tiebreaker.”

Writing his vote, Blake deposited the ballot with a sigh. “Not really a hard choice, given there's no one else to vote for — not to mention all the baggage. But hey, I'm glad we've at least agreed not to take it too personally.”

Jotting down a surfer's name, Fiore sneered. “If any of you watching thought I lost my strategic ability after season one, this better make you eat those filthy words.” Losing her bravado to a degree, she turned her gaze away. “And, well, this is for Alec, too…”

Casting his vote against the officer, Alessandro dropped it in. “I'm really glad I heard what I heard. I do believe Blake can win against Tom, but not needing to take any chances is such a relief. After this, the three of us will regain the majority.”

Looking apprehensive, the brickhouse momentarily hesitated. However, his resolve ultimately triumphed. “I'm sorry, Tom. But I can't vote for Blake right after he lost immunity saving me.”

Scrunching up his countenance, Dan heaved a puff of air and let his ballot fall onto the urn. “I… apologize, Blake. But Fiore made a fair point — you're good at challenges, and a competent strategist. I just hope I can sway Tom to my side next round…” He quivered. “I… just hope Alessandro isn't too upset…”

___________

Blank.

The last confessional plunged a model's brain into that state. Gaping, wide-eyed shock. He blinked repeatedly, his cognition slogging through this betrayal. Beside him, came a sharp inhale, which led into quite the jittery expulsion of air.

Disregarding that, his orbs descended. Others figured he was merely contemplating his lap and hands absent-mindedly. However, in reality, he dwelled upon what he stashed away from view. The exact item that would have guaranteed their victory. One he hadn't used, because he thought another would flip.

Well… His assumptions were proven correct. What he didn't account for was someone supposedly on their side pulling the same stunt.

“Dan…” He failed to conjure up more than a feeble utterance. “Why…?” Tearing up, he finally cocked his head to face his best friend. “We… we were about to get the majority here. Us three, to the end…”

Strengthening his conviction, Dan balled his fists. “I… You saw my reasoning,” he settled on. Folding his arms, he snapped his head away so as to conceal the gathering tears. “B-Besides, how was I supposed to know Will would flip? W-Why did you and Blake not bother informing me of that?”

Flinching, Alessandro went to defend himself. “I-”

“You two, stop.”

Both heads whipped toward the source.

Although befuddled at first, Blake had composed himself, keeping a collected expression. “Alessandro, it's fine — backstabbing is just how the game goes… The votes tied at least,” he stated.

That reminder drew a groan from a much younger player. “This could have gone so smoothly…” Fiore grumbled, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Simmering down, she tilted her head to survey the one who messed her machination up. “Guess you didn't become as willing to play the game as I'd hoped…”

The brickhouse heaved a wretched breath. “I'm… sorry. I just couldn't vote for Blake, not after he lost immunity because he saved me…” Though remorseful, he stood by his choice — Tom rolled his eyes, but eschewed snide remarks.

Brian Smith clapped, regaining their attention, as he waltzed over to the veiled pile. “Now, now… Time for the tiebreaker!” He declared, drawing off the sheet of the very device that enabled that simulation they endured.

“You're… kidding, right?” Blake deadpanned. Sure, given their host's general demeanor, acting astounded would be disingenuous. But following that ‘heartfelt’ spiel? The nerve remained unbelievable. “After the disaster that happened today?”

“He's… He's right,” Tom concurred, pointing at the host. “That simulation you put us through today turned into a complete horror show. You're not expecting us to return there, are you?”

“Oh… I, well- It's gone back to normal. Don't worry,” Brian Smith dismissed. Setting up the program, he inwardly deprecated his lack of forethought.

Due to this distraction, he neglected to deactivate sound. Which turned apparent, as he clicked to reload the world. Many players nearly flopped off their seats — that hellish cacophony of broken, jumbled audio assaulting their hearing.

“What the hell?!” Fiore exclaimed, shielding her ears. She hadn't stayed in that virtual world long enough to see what transpired. However, this heaving racket sufficed for her to ascertain she was better off unaware.

“That's certainly not ‘fixed’!” Will cried out, fed up with this nonsense.

Brian Smith inhaled sharply, attempting not to blow up. “It's… just an auditory issue now,” he tried excusing, yet held the laptop closer to himself, concealing its display. Umbrage creeping up on him, as he examined their unconvinced faces, a scowl formed upon spotting a certain nerd beginning to walk off. “Hey! Where do you think you're going?!”

“You already stated we're doing a tiebreaker, not a revote…” Dan exhaled, masking his anxiety regarding the ramifications of his treachery with annoyance. “There's no reason for the four of us to stay here. And I'd rather not get my eardrums popped.” Quickening his pace, he struggled to brush off his guilt.

Brian Smith snarled, but didn't call for him. He was so fucking done, wanting to get this over with. Without bothering to turn off audio, he gesticulated for Tom and Blake to come, holding out two headsets.

Recalling the nightmare that realm had devolved into, they exchanged looks. Arriving to an agreement, both faced their host again.

“Nope!” Tom rebuffed, glowering at the man. “Have you forgotten the mess inside that thing? And you want us back there? Connect our brains to something that's on the fritz?” Crossing his arms, he pouted.

Oozing hatred, Brian Smith leered at the officer. “Oh, please — not like you have much of a mind to lose,” he chastised. When the cop didn't budge, he tsked. “Fine, dig your own grave.” He focused on the other. “Put this on for ten seconds, and you automatically win.”

Narrowing his eyes, Blake scoffed. “Didn't you explicitly state that glitch disabled the command used to manually get someone out? How will you even boot me from the simulation once time's up?” He quizzed.

Repudiated by the surfer, the host gritted his teeth. Were these assholes for real? So many affairs to attend to, and these two had the gall to waste his time? Countless bribes to offer his editing crew, and- Oh crap, he hadn't even instructed employees to prepare that generic final five challenge… And the second motel episode… Oh, why did he even squander a slot on that first one?!

Juddering with barely restrained wrath, he found resisting the urge to hurl all these gadgets on the ground increasingly difficult.

“Are you two serious? You've been feuding for so long!” His wild orbs darted almost desperately between the two. Receiving no answer, he resorted to blatant efforts to instigate conflict.

“Blake, that himbo was already gunning for you since day one!” He ranted. “I bet his and Jake's stans will harass you online till the end of time! You're really rejecting your shot to put that pig in his place?!”

Humphing, the surfer turned his head away, steadfast. Gripping the laptop so tight his hands reddened, Brian Smith appealed to the officer next.

“For fuck's sake, Tom! That bastard you're agreeing with cheated on your damn husband!” He hollered, stomping. “YOU'VE BEEN ITCHING FOR PAYBACK EVER SINCE HE ELIMINATED JAKE!”

Will and Alessandro traded uneasy looks over the host's mounting hysteria.

Hearing that frenzied reminder, Tom flinched and briefly entertained that case. Those misdeeds… they did hurt. A lot. But… he wasn't innocent either. Like Brian Smith had mentioned seconds prior, he antagonized the surfer from day one, too. His mind rewound to hours ago, recollecting their conversation while swimming.

“I may not like him, but there's no reason to keep this squabble going…” He glared. “Especially not for your ratings-hungry sake.”

“Can't you just use another tiebreaker?” Alessandro suggested, his tone forlorn, but desperate to give his surfer friend a chance to stay.

Brian Smith dumped everything onto the floor, kicking the heap down as well — scattering a multitude of costly machinery across dirt.

“You know what?! The final five challenge sucked ass, anyway!” He snapped, dumbfounding them. Enraged beyond the point of no return, his blazing orbs trained upon Tom and Blake. “I'm not wasting more time coming up with something, just because you two decided to bitch! Screw the tiebreaker! YOU'RE BOTH ELIMINATED!”

Gasps sounded all around.

“At least I'll get to be with Jake again…” Tom mused, hoping his performance made his husband proud. Standing off his stump, he started toward the bus-stop.

Blake sighed, eyes downcast. “Well… I suppose this wasn't too shabby for my first run,” he told himself.

Alessandro jolted afoot, reaching out an arm to halt this. “Wait! Just do the rock, paper, scissors tiebreaker! That doesn't require any planning!” He clamored. Even though it could backfire spectacularly, he cared not. With the surfer gone, would anyone be in his corner?

Impatient, Brian Smith snarled. That model was testing his temper further — and didn't even try offering him the slightest inducement. “I'm not wasting another second!” He banged the ground with his foot. “My decision is final!” Staring both Blake and Tom down, he motioned toward the bus-stop. “You two, leave!” His unfaltering decree rang across the zone.

Effusing disgruntlement, Alessandro shot back. “Tired of wasting your time- That's rich coming from the person who chose this tiebreaker!” Eyes gathering rageful tears, he carried on his diatribe. “You know, even if this spin-off gets greenlit for another season, I doubt you'll host again!” He struck where it hurt.

Momentarily gaping with offense, Brian Smith gnashed his teeth. This impudent pretty boy was lucky his ass turned him on. Otherwise, he definitely would've been inclined to disqualify him right then and there — ‘fairness’ be damned.

“What did you say to me, you brainless fapping material?!” The host hissed.

Stepping forth, Alessandro stood his ground. “Exactly what you heard! You're the worst host ever featured here. Worse than season 2 Kristal! Regardless of how much, at least she had improved to a degree by the end! YOU?! YOU'VE JUST GROWN INTO AN EVEN BIGGER PIECE OF-”

“Stop!” Another, much more concerned voice interjected, a pair of hands grasping the model's wrists and tugging them to turn him away from the host. Keeping a tight hold, Blake gave his friend an imploding look. “Please, don't risk your own chances for me…”

“But I… I could have…” Alessandro choked with sobs. Agitation clouded his judgment, leading to him nearly letting rather crucial information slip.

Although unaware of that, the surfer had one last moment to use his occasional perceptiveness this season. Picking up on the potential secret, he spoke firmly. “Alessandro, stop.”

Lowering his gaze, Alessandro reluctantly complied. But his salty rivulets didn't falter.

Rapping his foot, Brian Smith squinted. “Do I have to call security?” He threatened, fingering his walkie-talkie.

Letting go with a sigh, Blake shook his head. “I'm going.” Beginning to follow Tom's path, however, he was briefly intercepted.

“Wait, can I walk you out at least?” Alessandro begged. His heart ached from both loss and need to fess up.

Grinning gratefully, the surfer nodded.

___________

Drumming his fingers over the bench, Tom reclined into it. Sixth place — or fifth perhaps, depending on fan-opinion — was apparently his peak performance. Even so, contentment assuaged his slight dismay.

The mood was quite somber a couple yards away, however. Standing before his departing surfer buddy, the distraught beauty's tears increased.

“I… I'm so sorry…” He apologized profusely. “I… saw that exchange between you and Will, and I instantly thought you were safe. I didn't think Dan would flip. This… it's my fault, too.”

“It isn't,” Blake reiterated. “There's nothing you could have done.”

Unable to keep it to himself, Alessandro thrust a hand in his jeans. Before the surfer could inquire, he fished out his totem for him to behold. Guilt consumed him — as made blatant via his countenance.

“I was going to use this on you, but after Will claimed he wouldn't vote for you… I… I refrained from doing so.” He confessed. “I told myself it was better to save it, given you would be safe anyway. I… wanted to keep this safety net to myself, in case stuff went awry. Even though I'd persuaded you to spend your own idol on Dan… I'm… such a hypocrite …”

Setting a hand on his erratic shoulder, the surfer shook his head. “The only reason I even found that totem was because you deciphered that clue for me, remember? You didn't need aid to discover yours, yet you still considered losing it to ensure my safety tonight.”

“But I still jumped at the opportunity not to expend it…” Alessandro sniffled. “Like a complete idiot…”

“Your guess that Will wouldn't vote for me was right,” Blake pointed out, not wanting him to beat himself up over this. “And you couldn't have seen Dan's betrayal coming. From your perspective, you would be flushing your idol for nothing.”

Those assurances alleviated the model's guilt. However, he let out a heavy breath. “Still… I… I wish I could make it up to you…” He admitted.

Inhaling, Blake stared into his eyes. “You want to do something to make it up to me? Then promise me something…” Drawing the other's undivided attention, he proceeded. “If you don't win immunity next round, you'll use that totem on yourself — no matter what. I may respect Dan's move, but I don't want you to miss out on the finale, too…”

As the minibus neared, Alessandro drew in a charged intake of air. Solemnly, he responded with a nod as it pulled up.

___________

Both parties took their seats inside the vehicle. One looked forward to reuniting with his husband, whereas the other grew pensive. Ironically, their thoughts revolved around the same individual.

“Guess it's kind of fitting we got eliminated simultaneously, right?” Tom broke the silence at last. Receiving a quiet nod, even he could ascertain something filled the surfer's mind. “Is something bothering you?”

Slumping back into his backrest, Blake hesitated, but opened up. “I… wish this whole situation between you, me and Jake could get some closure. But I… don't know if seeking it would be right…”

Astounded, Tom took a few seconds to respond.

___________

Watching the vehicle shrink into the horizon, Alessandro stood there, desolate. That morning, he had two people in his corner…

Now? Did he still have one? Part of him grew inclined to disagree.

___________

Bullshit. It was all Brian Smith spewed, before sending Julia to retrieve those virtual reality gadgets and carry them to the ceremony zone.

She had accosted him, questioning where John was. She hadn't approached any other staff members — besides, she and John were the only interns, barring some workers occasionally brought to the site to help set up specific rounds, which had pretty much ceased occurring since the final eight.

“John? That friend of yours ruined the simulation, and just ditched the show a few hours earlier. A real pile of garbage, he turned out to be.” Had she not been tasked with harsh labor immediately, Julia might have spent hours dissecting Brian Smith's drivel.

Erroneous, every portion of that sentence. First-hand, she witnessed her fellow intern work tirelessly — exert himself to deliver the best result, in spite of that ludicrous deadline their boss imposed. If stuff went awry, responsibility lay solely on Brian Smith's egotistical, unrepenting self.

After lugging everything into place, she returned to the mess-hall. Thankfully, that bastard's whim hadn't been to force her stick around the campfire event. Though, if he'd dared to try, she wasn't sure she would've been able to refrain from strangling him.

Heading inside the structure, however, discomfort swiftly set in. Though this wasn't her first time frequenting the place alone, knowing she wouldn't get to converse with John here again made it seem all the colder. Despite the competition approaching its conclusion — just a few more days — it seemed a little too far away. Although she would have preferred to indulge in slumber, she knew her unscrupulous superior would order her to return supplies to their proper space once the elimination concluded.

I can't deal with this… She thought, opting to proceed into the less utilized section, where both VR challenges were held. Glad to have left the lights on, she moved further in.

Her gaze fell upon a desk. A heavy weight settling upon her heart, she inched over and plopped onto the chair, wincing as it creaked. But its stability presented no further issue.

She recalled watching John toil away at that damn virtual reality device, stirring nostalgia and sorrow over his exit. No doubt dwelled within her. He would never desert a friend in this manner, without notice. It didn't add up.

Eyes roving over the desk, they eventually halted upon noticing a red dot marking one of the drawers.

Blinking, Julia considered whether her exhaustion had begun inducing slight hallucinations. Craning her head closer and squinting, however, it remained there. Listening for any footsteps that might indicate Brian Smith's arrival, she heard none. Thus, she chose to satiate her curiosity, pulling it open.

Inside, she found a folded slip. Even before unfurling it, she deduced who had tucked it there. Once its handwriting confirmed her suspicions, however, she was already frozen by the content.

“This is certainly very stupid and risky, but I'm just too nervous to help myself. Though I doubt even he is deranged enough to go out of his way to harm me permanently, the fact I'll be forced into that simulation worries me. I just hope I did enough to keep it running smoothly.

With how Brian Smith acts, I doubt he'll notice this, and I don't think his editing crew will care enough to figure out what I'm up to, given they didn't snitch to him about the lie. Good thing I made sure there were no cameras around before sitting down to write this.

Julia, though you hopefully won't read this, I'm sorry. I just couldn't let you take the fall. Even so, if my choice backfires somehow, yet you still want to act, I should leave you some tips.”

The next few paragraphs outlined how to potentially expose the corruption transpiring around Tipiskaw; however, John noted multiple times how afraid he was of it all going haywire.

By the time she'd digested this intel fully, Julia's breath shook. The final paragraph felt like a final blow.

“That's all. I hope this doesn't end up in anyone else's hands. Once that challenge is done, I'll just fetch this note and rip it apart.”

What had that bastard of a host done to John? Although Julia prayed for her work companion's well-being, Brian Smith's plain attempt to cover up his whereabouts pointed to nothing good.

She gripped the margins tightly, a lone tear dribbling down her cheek. No matter what, she would uncover the truth…

…and ensure justice got served.

Chapter Text

Brian Smith stood before the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw, as always. He strained on his usual smarmy grin, though jitters ran through him. Everything should be according to plan, right? Even so, he couldn't escape this sinking feeling.

Recalling the rolling cameras, he cleared his throat, flinging both arms upward with faux merriment.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle!”

Footage from last episode started playing, as he recapped — the events of that morning came first.

“Following Grett's elimination, it was a scramble for dominance. Tom rejected Dan's brief attempt to sway him, and sided with Will and Fiore due to having no other options.”

Cut to clips from the challenge's first several minutes or so.

“Players were sent back to a virtual realm — this one more fantasy-oriented than horror…” He trailed off, before proceeding.

“Or, well, it would've been, if not for a certain intern's poor work. A glitch in the system messed things up big time…” Cut to that bug, which sent Fiore and Dan to victory simultaneously. A clip of the duo conversing followed. “Thus, while Fiore and Dan conferred over stuff, both with devious plans in mind…” Flickering footage of the all-consuming corruption flashed past. “...the rest were probably given a fear of glitchy software.” He repressed a snicker, deriving solace from recounting their misery.

Cut to the showdown between Blake, Tom and eventually Will — with the last one triumphing.

“In the end, Will won the last immunity, leaving only the two rivals up for elimination. And some betrayal from both sides caused a tie!”

Snippets from that ceremony came — edited so the host's freak out appeared much less severe than in reality.

“Due to their disrespect and inconsiderate attitude, I unfortunately, yet understandably, lost it and eliminated both — ending this season's biggest rivalry on quite the whimper, admittedly…”

Cut back to the current scene, with Brian Smith's arms elevated still.

“With that shocking double-elimination, four players are left! Which one will fall just short of making the finale? Find out, on Disventure Camp…

OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!”

___________

For what was doubtless an endeavor to cover up his tracks — sweep something unforgivably heinous under the rug — Brian Smith lacked caution. Striding down the dirtpath, he may have been checking over his shoulder every few minutes. However, he never bothered to survey either side.

Perhaps complacency as extreme as his just couldn't be disrupted — no matter how deep the hole he dug for himself ran. His innate smugness would forever make him certain he could surmount whatever came his way.

However, Julia couldn't complain. The man's unhurried amble made trailing after him — skirting along under the canopy, managing to see due to the flashlight he wielded — without accidentally producing noise much easier.

Few stars stippled the dark expanse overhead — the night as quiet as they came. She couldn't help but wonder whether that wretched host had gotten every critter within Tipiskaw exterminated. Considering his depravity, it wouldn't shock her.

___________

The absence of cameras around this particular zone was chiefly to save money — after all, no need to plant recorders across an area that's not intended for campers to waltz into. Sure, maybe it would compute to also implement a few measures to ensure said contestants couldn't approach it. But no such mishap had transpired either way, so why bother?

Regardless, Brian Smith found this rather liberating. Given the ruination his misdeeds would induce if exposed, the lack of lens surveying his every move was welcome.

Shining his flashlight ahead, it eventually revealed just what he'd been looking for — the tent housing his editing staff. A skeleton crew, comprising men just as demented- erm, driven as him.

Jackpot, rang through Brian Smith's mind, as he nearly smirked. However, drawing closer, his conceited self-assuredness faltered, as his nostrils caught an unbelievably foul whiff. Upon reaching the entrance, he couldn't handle advancing further, recoiling.

“Ugh, what the hell is that stench?” He gagged, trying to fan it away. Last time he headed here, following Ellie's medical evacuation, he'd noted an unpleasant odor accumulating. Yeah, he might have been partly to blame — he hadn't provided them any means of hygiene. But still, how did it worsen to this extent? Backing away, he watched three reeking men emerge.

One waddled, grappling with his own obesity — as further indicated via how little greasy skin that stained shirt covered. A gangling dweeb flanked him. The host immediately pictured them munching on cheap doritos endlessly and picking their nose, respectively.

Lastly, leading the pack, was a ripped, yet no less foul-smelling jackass. Though Brian Smith usually identified with smirks as assholish as his own, that stink prevented such from being the case here. He had standards, obviously.

Crossing his arms, the strapping man rolled his eyes. “Figured you'd come here,” he drawled. “The three of us viewed that cold-ass move of yours before taking a break.” He chortled. “Gotta say, you're one sick son of a bitch.”

Repressing the urge to retort, Brian Smith inhaled sharply. “Well, Peter, I'm sure you know why I've come here then. And I know what you want in return for what I'm asking you…” That malodor stung his nose still, making discussing affairs harder. “Can we… do so a bit away from this tent, please? It's like the smell is assaulting my brain.”

“Pussy, that stench's only formed because ya were stingy with toiletries,” Peter huffed, eliciting snickers from both his cronies. “But fine.” He concurred. “Don't expect this to be cheap, though. Boys, let's go — mister priss’ dainty nostrils will burst if he's forced to inhale anymore of this air.”

Disregarding Brian Smith's scowl, they laughed and nodded. Swallowing his contempt, the host stayed silent. The four headed off to talk.

___________

Of course, those three are nearly as vile as him. Julia sneered, eavesdropping on their exchange from behind a shrub. Only difference is that it shows on the outside, too.

Vowing to unmask their iniquitous deeds, she waited until the coast was clear. Once that quartet was off sight, she gingerly came out of hiding. Glancing from side to side, she exited the shade foliage supplied. Without dawdling, she covered the distance between her spot and that repugnant structure, rushing inside.

That stink Brian Smith had condemned hit Julia bluntly. Usual smells stemming from people who had gone weeks without washing themselves — while perspiring frequently — alongside a suspicious earthy tang. It evoked memories of a distant relative of hers. One eventually estranged from the rest of the family for their addiction to marijuana. Nausea seeped in. But unfortunate experiences — getting forced into cleaning duty, after another one of Brian Smith's abominable diarrheas — had caused her to grow a certain resilience when it came to such odors. Therefore, she could still function.

Traversing the stuffy area, she reached a desktop. Why was there only one, when the host hired three people? Who knew? Brian Smith had never been the most logical person, for as much as he touted himself as a great host. She couldn't dwell on it — there were more pressing matters on hand.

Another stroke of luck — or showcase of the staff's incompetence, probably both. Those three hadn't even turned off the device, which displayed a set of folders containing all recorded footage. Everything carelessly left there, vulnerable to any intruder who waltzed inside in their absence.

John had harbored such fear of these people?

She could only presume he hadn't known them well enough. It computed. Due to him never rebelling to this extent, he never saw their ineptitude. Had both gotten bolder sooner, maybe this whole thing could have ended on a much happier note. Her stomach churned, that fact merely serving to worsen her sorrow.

Shaking her head, she refocused on her task. She fished out a pendrive — one she'd managed to quickly fetch from the pile of gadgets on the mess-hall before rushing after the host. Linking it to the computer, she quickly copied the folders corresponding to the last week or so onto it. Once everything got transferred properly, she unplugged the flashdrive, pocketing it.

As an extra measure, she clicked on the most recent folder. Seeing the footage of her in the mess-hall a few hours ago, presumably — and thankfully — not viewed yet, she swiftly deleted it. As long as they didn't catch on to her knowing Brian Smith had done something to John, she doubted either party would risk attempting anything on her.

Making sure to return to the screen the device had been left on, Julia got up and departed the tent. Dashing back into the shade, she set off back where she came from — deeming it safer not to await their arrival.

___________

Once that minibus evanesced into the night wholly, Alessandro's shoulders slumped. Tears streaked his cheeks, a frigid wind making him shiver. Even so, he didn't feel capable of undertaking the journey back to camp right now. Or facing those there, for that matter.

Displacing some dirt with his shoe as he pondered, he eventually settled on resting upon the stumps. Embracing himself while retreating into the ceremony zone, he found himself much less certain regarding the bond between him and Dan.

___________

“I'm sorry I went behind your back tonight…” Will reiterated, shuffling into a corner, as both were sitting. “That whole ordeal just messed me up. Hanging from that cliff, that- I don't even know what to call it- getting closer and closer, and my hand slipping…” He shuddered with distress. “I felt like I was going to die…”

Their tent appeared so much more spacious now. Whether a good or bad thing, the brickhouse couldn't decide. On one hand, he had a lot of extra freedom to move now. However, it felt… so desolate.

“And Blake… he saved me, and it cost him immunity. After that, I simply couldn't vote for him tonight.” Although remorseful over betraying Fiore's trust, Will didn't exactly regret his choice. He went with what he believed was right.

Fiore's face scrunched up briefly. It soon loosened, though. Sighing, she waved a dismissive hand.

“Guess it's not too bad.” At the befuddlement crossing her alliancemates’ countenance, she shrugged. “I mean, after what went down, I suspect ensuring we get the upperhand will be much easier. With those two likely split up, we can send that model packing as long as he doesn't win immunity next round.”

Straining on a grateful grin, the brickhouse nodded. “Thanks for not being mad. And don't worry, I won't go behind your back again.” He swore, dissembling his apprehension.

Lying down, Fiore rolled over so her back faced him. “Good to know.” She yawned, starting to doze off. “Now let's go to sleep already. I'm tired as hell.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Sunlight showered over her — indication this was filmed the next morning. Tapping her stump with a hand, she sighed.

“I admit, for a moment, I was seething,” she conceded, then lifted one finger. “But… in hindsight? Tom was volatile. He could have been swayed by one of those two afterward.”

Folding her arms, she smirked.

“Now? Both him and Blake are gone, which speeds things along. And with Dan and Alessandro's friendship fractured, Will and I can dominate this round. Then? I can continue my plan, as intended.” She giggled.

—Confessional :Will—

Likewise, his confessional got recorded later.

Rubbing the back of his head, he shifted in his stump. Moments later, he exhaled sheepishly.

“I… was kind of hoping we'd target Dan next. He and Alessandro were so close. I can't conceive how dejected the latter must be right now…” He shook his head. “But I want to make it up to Fiore, so I'm not pestering her over it.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Hushed.

The entire tent was silent and vacant, barring one scrawny man. Huddling into a corner, he tucked his face into his drawn knees. A lot swirled within his mind — ruminations, regrets. No hints of sound outside. Nothing to divert his troubled thoughts.

Had his stunt truly been enough to put the model off? After everything they went through together? Was it that… hurtful?

Tilting his head back up, he observed the opening, hoping it would be zipped open soon. Disappointment was all that met him, however. Reposing, he grappled with the tears that threatened to spill.

—Confessional :Dan—

As with both prior confessionals, this one was done once the sun was up again.

Head lolling down, his lips ejected a sigh. “I… I feel like trash… Alessandro didn't return at all, not even by the time I woke up.” Clenching his fists, he struggled to regain confidence. “But I need to stay focused. I'm so close to getting to the end.”

Hugging himself, he looked aside.

“I just hope he comes around. Otherwise… I… just don't know what I'll do.” His face tightened. That was disingenuous. “Well… I do, but I'm not sure whether I can go through with it. I just hope Will doesn't win immunity today.”

—End Confessional—

___________

The spotless, azure tapestry hanging above belied whirling inner turmoil. Sunrays streamed warmly upon three heads — as two lounged together on one log, whereas the third moped on the other.

Contemplating the unlit firepit, Dan covered his face, unable to restrain a miserable sigh. Though that merely drew a wider smirk from Fiore, who casually took a bite off an apple, it poked a slight pit in one brickhouse's stomach.

“Did Alessandro not show up all night?” He inquired. Ensuing silence spoke volumes. Shooting a fleeting look to the dirtpath leading in and out of camp, Will sighed wearily. “Can't help but feel bad for him. Getting blindsided like that.” He mused, inadvertently exacerbating another's guilt.

“He's probably slept on the stumps, like Tom and Hunter did before,” Fiore interjected, nonchalantly pitching the fruit core a yard or so from their campsite. “Those two got over getting separated from their husband and sort of love interest number two, respectively, anyway. He'll be fine.” Nudging her ally, she brazenly stared at the nerd. “Though, I doubt he'll be thrilled to see a certain someone again.”

“Quit acting like you're not one of the most hated players ever seen on this show.” Springing off his seat, Dan curled his fists, orbs blazing. “Like, really, who's more hated than you? Beyond, say, Yul, Riya and Blake?” He challenged.

The brickhouse blenched — the wrath on display catching him off-guard. Looking between this irate nerd and unimpressed ten-year-old, he sensed trouble impending.

“Um… maybe we should all take a step back?” He suggested. “I know we're all vying for that prize, but it's the final four!” Standing up, he forced on a grin, trying to remain optimistic. “We should all be proud to have made it this far.”

Despite fauna seeming virtually non-existent, apart from some birds — that roosted upon a branch not too far away — metaphorical crickets chirped inside his mind. Quietness fraught with tension enfolded them — both clashing parties exchanged stares, one snide or exasperated remark away from breaking out into a shit-slinging contest. Between them, Will neared a cold sweat.

Just then, however, the loudspeakers burst into operation — scaring off the small creatures, as well as snipping that uneasy quiet.

“Brace yourselves for the semi-finals, final four!” Brian Smith's declaration blared across their campsite. “You all have thirty minutes to report to the clearing! Let's keep the ball rolling — chop, chop!”

All campers present exchanged arched eyebrows — with Fiore even scorching her head upward to ascertain the sun's position. Nevertheless, the trio seized that cue to promptly finish that conversation. Especially Dan, who crossed his arms and trod swiftly down the dirtpath. Two pairs of orbs gazed on as he evanesced into the distance — one unbothered, the other apprehensive.

“Don't you think he might turn on you for this?” The brickhouse questioned, lowering his gaze to contemplate his much younger ally, perturbed. “I mean… he's probably still on the fence about who to side with.”

Keeping her eyes on the scraggly, departing figure, Fiore cracked a wry smirk. “That nerd's clearly on his game-bot phase now. At least, he's trying to convince himself of that,” she tittered. “Besides, like I told you yesterday, his betrayal last night has definitely driven a wedge between him and mister model. We're at the final four — they'll have no time to repair it while still competing.”

“But still, don't you think they may target you for being a threat?” Will quizzed. “I mean, Dan did mention you in his voting confessional, so Alessandro will know what happened.” It remained surreal — going from fervent resentment, to caring dearly about her safety.

She rolled her eyes, rapping the log idly with a fist. “Maybe if we were still another round or two away from the finale. But now?” Folding her arms, she considered him confidently. “I mean, Dan loathed Ellie a whole lot more — yet, despite having the reins on who to target at final 10, he gunned for Tess instead for strategy…” Squinting with ponderation, she pointed to him. “If anything, you should be worrying more. You're definitely getting the most support in the finale, and with both me and Dan here, you don't have much competition, physically speaking, either.”

Although discomforting, her admonishment put things into perspective. Her case clicked for him. In fact, discomfiture welled within a bit, due to how obvious it became when stepping back and evaluating logic. For how shrewd a manipulator Fiore might be, she was still ten regardless. When it was all down to winning that last obstacle, the easiest opponent to beat would be her, unless whoever assisted her massively compensated.

“Oh… you're right…”

“I know.” She stood upright. “I'd advise you to try extra hard this round. But don't think I'll throw either. Now let's go.”

—Confessional :Will—

“I know Ashley said she'd be proud of me no matter how much farther I got, back at the final 8, but I'm so close to the end…” Balling both hands, he rose off his stump, strengthening his resolve. “Whether or not I fail, I'm giving it my all today!”

—End Confessional—

___________

Loitering on the clearing, Alessandro kept his gaze downcast and arms folded. Much weighed upon his mind, but he preferred to express nothing — not yet, at least. He necessitated time to reflect. Last night still stung.

It might have been preposterous. Double-crossing was an inherent facet of this vicious game, he knew. Rationally, he understood holding reservations against his sole possible ally would yield nothing good. His brain apprehended that.

But hearts didn't function on logic alone. And his? Ached with betrayal. Guilt, too. Was it his own fault, too? How many signs escaped him beforehand? He thought all three of them were decently close. Sure, Blake and Dan didn't interact nearly as much as either did with him. However, had the former's totem-play meant nothing?

Totem… Just mentioning it inwardly sent a wave of blame crashing down on him. Despite Blake's reassurances, the model couldn't help faulting himself there. Sure, his guess concerning Will hadn't failed. But had making that assumption been sound to begin with? When he'd been utterly rattled from that day's challenges? Playing it safe would have protected his surfer buddy. Even though Dan's flipping would always dishearten him, they could have worked through it — together, a trio.

Unfortunately, such events didn't come to fruition. Now? He grappled with emotions. What a rising star storyline…

Engrossed within his troubled notions, Alessandro almost didn't notice the next arrival. Emerging from that wooded sea, a familiar, skinny figure forged toward him — resolute, in spite of misdeeds that should have burdened them. Upon confirming their identity, however, he wished their presence had eluded him.

___________

Leaving that somewhat constricting path through dense vegetation, sunlight pricked Dan's orbs. Slinging an arm against his forehead to shield his vision, the nerd progressed farther into the open area.

For such a heavy situation, this lurid weather read like mockery. Although contrition threatened to rear its ugly head, he smothered it with determination. No use debating if he did the right thing or not. Whether or not his best friend forgave him yet, he prayed working together to survive today remained in the cards. Otherwise… he didn't even want to picture it.

This introspection didn't last too long — ceased once his orbs alighted upon the very man he sought. Hoping to break the ice wordlessly, Dan waved. The unequivocal lack of response didn't portend a positive start. Dull heart-pang aside, though, he steeled his resolve and approached nonetheless.

“Um…” Releasing an unsure intake of air, he narrowly articulated a sentence. “Look, I know what I did last night wasn't cool…” He trailed off, wincing over that understatement. “But can we please work together still? Otherwise, Fiore and Will hold all the power over who goes home tonight.”

Face tightening, Alessandro unfurled his arms to hold up a hand, halting whatever else he may have wanted to say. “Dan… I just… need some space, okay?” He sounded weary, reserved. Nowhere near as forthcoming as he usually appeared. “I have to gather my thoughts.” He confessed, hands falling limply against his sides.

A chill ran up the nerd's spine. This was exactly what he feared may pass. Not only strategically, but emotionally, too. Regret banged against his throbbing heart. He'd carried out the move he reckoned would most benefit his game. And yet? It looked to have backfired spectacularly. With Alessandro no longer backing him, the two were at the mercy of Will and Fiore. Even worse, strain grew palpable upon their bond.

Concerns eddied relentlessly within his mind, heightening his tribulation. Why couldn't Alessandro prioritize their survival this round? For both their sakes! Slight frustration commenced bubbling, but he stalled that.

Shaking his head, he ventured to prod further. “Alessandro, please. We need to stick together. Otherwise, we won't have that time to sort this out in-game,” he insisted, grasping his shoulder. “Remember what we've been hoping for? For both of us to reach the final 2?”

Shrugging off the other's hand, Alessandro stepped away. Both hands clenched at that attempt to appeal to their promise. Indignation seeped in.

“…Don't bring that up…” He admonished, miffed. “What about how you acted as though you were alright with taking Blake to the final 3, only to backstab him yesterday?” Whipping round to look the opposite way, he vented on. “It may not be fair to blame you for being strategic, but hearing you mention that promise — after what you did — is like a slap to the face.”

Reeling backward, Dan gawked toward the model. Perhaps he should've foreseen this outcome. To get so attached to someone, and aid them all throughout this competition, only for them to suddenly partake in another dear friend's elimination? It was bound to sting — it wouldn't be far-fetched to conjecture that getting approached by that very same traitor whilst processing it would feel like salt peppering that wound.

“I…” His befuddlement rendered him unable to form a proper response fast enough.

“Just… leave me alone.” Alessandro repeated firmly, arms crossed once more. Worrying his conviction might crumble if he stared at his buddy for too long, he remained with his back to him.

Although that demand clearly wasn't meant to persist on a permanent basis, it struck like a whack to the cheek. Though the model wasn't even able to see his reaction, Dan still deemed it imperative to spin round just in case.

Liquid accumulated on his orbs, but he furiously wiped them clean, biting down a plaintive gasp. He couldn't break down, not this close to the finale — balling his fists, he inwardly told himself that over and over. However, he concentrated so much on curbing his sorrow, bitterness went unchecked.

“This is so unfair…” The words slipped under his breath, his current state allowing them to bypass any sort of filter. “I bet you wouldn't be this mad at Blake, had the roles gotten switched… You've made that clear.”

Despite efforts to blank the nerd, Alessandro overheard that jab. Consternation careening across him, he glanced over his shoulder. Several moments went on soundlessly, those statements registering gradually. Upon fully taking them in, his heartache worsened.

“How… How could you say that?” Choking down tears himself, he pointed toward him. “We've been working together ever since the start. I opened up to you, and didn't question your loyalty for a second. Yet, you think I replaced you or something?!”

That tearful exclamation jolted Dan off his rancour-induced insensibility. Breath hitching and eyes dilating, the gravity of his nasty accusations dawned on him. Too late…

“I…” Tremors seized him. Stress and regret whirled within, muddling already jumbled thoughts. How could he even begin to apologize for that?

“Just… leave me alone,” Alessandro reasserted, each syllable now laced. With what? Rage? Sorrow? Both? Who knew…?

Seeing every push had just exacerbated matters, Dan complied. Hanging his head, he cursed himself for such callousness, averting his gaze as the model distanced himself further.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

The model enfolded himself in a meek embrace, downhearted.

“He… He really thinks so low of me?” Swallowing unshed tears, he quivered. “He really thinks all we went through meant nothing to me?” Inside his mind, myriad recollections flashed past — numerous times they'd relied on one another to triumph. All that, and Dan distrusted him… it mustn't have differed too drastically from a stab to the heart.

Requiring several moments so as to avoid bursting out crying, his orbs descended listlessly, fixating upon his jeans.

“I only have one thing left in this game…” He mumbled.

—Confessional :Dan—

“What's wrong with me…?”

Abject misery had numbed him, leaving an almost emotionless countenance. Behind that veneer, however, lay great despair.

“He's always had my back…”

Reaching up a hand, he took off his beanie. Glassy orbs mused upon the woolly article, a choked puff evading his lips.

“And I blew it…”

Wringing the fabric, he eventually perched it atop his head again. Resting both palms on his lap, he sighed dejectedly, hanging his head.

“Guess there might not be much hope anymore…”

—End Confessional—

This discussion had engrossed both parties so much, neither had noted their two fellow competitors catching up to them. Therefore, allotting the duo plenty of time to observe their dilemma.

“Seems they aren't collaborating any time soon,” Fiore giggled, quiet enough for just her alliancemate to hear. A smirk crossed her face.

Despite being nowhere near as into discord as her, Will strained on a sheepish grin, nodding. As both approached the other competitors, however, it swiftly dropped, concern leaking through.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“With that debacle between those fools, their partnership is basically over. Though… giving that another small push won't hurt…” Following a short snicker, she clenched her palms, orbs glinting fiercely. “Everything will go according to plan. If Alec's not proud of me after this, then he'll have gone completely crazy…”

Trailing off, she tensed up, realizing what she let slip. Momentarily, her pupils darted about, mind racing as she tried conjuring up a way to backtrack. However, simmering down, she scrunched up her face, before her posture loosened.

“Fine… no one's going to buy whatever bullshit I spout to cover this up at this point, anyway…” She groaned, crossing her arms. “I… just want to feel as though I'm worth something.” Averting her gaze, she sighed with resignation. “Getting along with someone who originally just saw me as some monster might have made me rethink stuff, I suppose…” She conceded.

—Confessional :Will—

Wincing, the brickhouse rubbed the back of his head, his free hand resting over his lap.

“Look, I'm not going to be ungrateful for getting a better chance at staying in the game…” Gathering enough willpower, he stared into the lens. “But seeing two people who had each other's backs throughout this whole game, and seemed to care for one another a lot, be split apart like this? It's… not a pretty sight…”

—End Confessional—

___________

“Have you ensured everything is set in order?” Brian Smith questioned, slight venom lacing his words. A hand-mirror in hand, he combed his hair thoroughly, as though intent on maintaining an immaculate appearance for these last few episodes. “You did go over it all twice like I instructed, right?”

Perceiving such animosity, Julia knew that reeking gaggle had apprised him of the truth surrounding that letter. Regardless, given what she had heard before they went off to confer in further detail, she could rest easy. They hadn't discovered her awareness of their schemes. Meaning, no setbacks would assail the next phase of her plan.

Suppressing a spiteful smirk, she feigned a gasp.

“Oh no… was it supposed to do that?” She inquired. Funnily enough, her superior truly hadn't mentioned that beforehand — not too out-of-character. “I figured you'd want it all done as fast as possible, so I rushed through it…” She feigned innocent misunderstanding, followed by a purposeful recoil once that mirror got flung down.

Incensed, the host swiveled around, pointing at her belligerently. Orbs blazed briskly — brimming with ire blatantly derived from more than just her purported oversight.

“Of course you were, you fucking bitch!” Brian Smith spat, stamping his foot. “It's bad enough that stupid moron messed everything up yesterday and ran off. I don't need more incompetence around here, got it?!”

Pretending intimidation, she nodded. “Yes, sir…” Her fists tightened somewhat, twitching when the bastard slandered her friend. Fortunately, this went overlooked.

“Once this challenge starts, you'll be going to each location, checking them like you should've done. Then, you'll return, make me some coffee, then also sweep the clutter you just caused.” Efficiency was doubtless not the aim here — he sought to make things as tiresome as possible for her, out of sheer pettiness. “Now, follow me.”

Voicing none of those observations, Julia merely concurred with a hum. Inwardly? She couldn't wait to see his face once his hubris backfired spectacularly. Brian Smith strode toward the door. From his cross gait, she could infer who else he was about to take his petulant umbrage out on.

Tailing him, Julia narrowed her gaze at his back.

___________

Creaking drew everyone's gaze over to the opening door — letting them watch as Brian Smith emerged, his remaining intern trailing behind him.

“Did you four have a pleasant night?” He sneered, hands on his hips. Tone oozing spite, he prodded them further. “After that latest elimination, I wager you've all just been the closest of friends.”

Despite not emoting much at that, a shiver wracked through Alessandro. Quelling hyperventilation, he averted his gaze, bottling up whatever that mockery roused. Though similarly silent as well, Dan's orbs didn't drift from their host. Instead, he glowered hatefully.

Discomfitted, Will idled there, rubbing his elbow. Gaze off to the side, he found himself lingering over his presence in the final four. This time? By now, he felt… exposed. Almost naked. He shuddered.

Deviating from the norm, Fiore shrugged, unbothered. True, Alec's early illumination smarted still, but nowhere near as badly as prior. Two weeks ago, had anyone claimed she would grow to tolerate — and even befriend — Will, of all people, their idiocy may have rendered her too stupefied to even mock them. Yet, here she was — with him as her number one ally. Combined with her successfully carried out vengeance — and just finally managing to take out a member of the once seemingly unbeatable trio, in general — pride swelled within.

For her response, however? She went with something more concise.

“I mean, you suck majorly, but that's to be expected.” Her jab visibly irked the man, prompting her to smirk as she went on. “Aside from that, though? I've got to say — things have certainly been looking up lately.” Another question came to mind, however. Arching an eyebrow, her grin receded. “I do have a new gripe, though.” She crossed her arms, unamused. “Why the fuck have you called us so early?”

Hands clasped together, Brian Smith chortled. Oh, these fools had no idea what they were in for. Yesterday may have been torturous, but today? No way was the drama going to lose steam. However, one step at a time.

“Simple,” he replied. “Tomorrow, all of you, minus whoever bites the dust this round, will duke out one last time – and one will emerge a million dollars richer.” The confirmation of a final 3 conclusion didn't subvert any expectations, but he couldn't care less. “However, given the momentous occasion, we intend to shoot an episode at the motel this afternoon. Because of that, today's ceremony shall be held at midday,” he clarified.

“Good to know…” Fiore mused, as one's glare faltered with worry.

—Confessional :Dan—

Shoulders slumped, he buried his face in his hands, somber.

“I know the chance of Alessandro getting enough time for himself to be willing to talk again before the ceremony was next to none already.” A wistful sigh wafted off his lips. “But did any shred of hope I had for that really need to be crushed?” Balling his fists, he swallowed tears.

—End Confessional—

Checking on the model, Dan wilted to a degree upon ascertaining his maintained desire for space. Folding his arms, he diverted his gaze again, sending Fiore a nasty glare once he caught her smirking, leading to Will tensing up slightly.

Letting this blatant friction soak in, Brian Smith grinned broadly. Nothing like discord amongst contestants to alleviate his rightful exasperation over his employee's ineptitude. Sure, it sucked that he couldn't punish her for interfering by delivering that letter — only he could indulge in meddling, after all — given how it would only draw suspicion, which he needed to avoid. However, watching this abject display of misery assuaged his indignation somewhat. But now wasn't the time to digress.

“Regardless, I bet you're all just itching to know the details of this last immunity challenge, aren't you?” Without allotting them time to supply input, he whipped out a remote that sported a single button. “Each of you will be given a slip indicating what location you must visit.” He idly tossed and caught the device while expositing. “There, a trial will await you. Completing it will award you one of these — and whoever presses the button first wins.”

“Interesting…” Fiore hummed, orbs glinting deviously. Though confident she'd survive this round, she doubted her chances at guaranteeing safety outright. But swooping in and sabotaging Alessandro at the last moment? Both ensuring his loss, as well as potentially clinching immunity via piggybacking off someone else's work? A smirk tugged at her lips-

“By the way…” The host added, lips curling with schadenfreude. “Given these are the semi-finals, I'd rather keep things fair. So, you can't win immunity through a remote other than your own.” He shot down her budding machinations, replacing her smirk with a pout.

—Confessional :Fiore—

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. “Oh, so now he cares about fairness?” She snarked. “Whatever. I may just hassle that model to ensure he doesn't win immunity still.” With a finger-snap, she huffed. “To be frank, it would be more fun to rile up the nerd more. But I suppose Will's right. I shouldn't provoke him… too much…”

—End Confessional—

Drawing closer, Brian Smith handed Dan and Alessandro their notes first. Both took them wordlessly, the former sneaking a glance toward the latter. The model blanked him still, leading him to hang his head, gulping down a sigh.

Smirking derisively over this rift, the host approached the remaining duo, proffering them both their sheets simultaneously. The brickhouse had no issue retrieving his. On the other hand…

“Hey, asshole!” Fiore snapped, jumping in a fruitless endeavor to grasp her clue. “Would you mind?”

Wanting to piss off this, in his viewpoint, impertinent brat, Brian Smith dangled the piece of paper teasingly. “Or what?” He taunted, snickering. However, his glee was cut short once another mitt snatched it off his hold. Seeing Will giving Fiore her slip, the host snarled. “Tsk, party-pooper,” he shaded, stepping back.

“Thanks for that,” Fiore told her alliancemate, who just smiled warmly.

With that, the final four unfurled their papers — each perusing their clue.

Bus-Stop, read the paper the youngest contestant received. Didn't give anything away. Humming indifferently, Fiore tilted her head toward the brickhouse, interested to gauge his reaction. A second later, she furrowed her brow.

“So? What's written in yours?” She pressed, noticing him frozen. Assessing his petrified countenance, concern seeped in. “Um… Will? Seriously, where do you need to go?”

Several moments later, he narrowly mustered the composure to respond. “I- um… The… beach…” He choked out, gulping. Though not the sharpest of the bunch, he instantly knew where this was headed. “I… I'm not sure I can…” He conceded sheepishly.

“Aw,” Brian Smith cooed satirically. Spiteful over his fun getting halted, he jumped at this chance for retribution. “Does the fragile — over six foot tall — manchild find his challenge too scary? How unfortunate.” Tutting, he wagged a finger, as though lecturing a little boy.

Chagrined, Will averted his gaze. A humiliated flush suffused his face. Embarrassment creeped up on him. Inwardly, he berated himself for seemingly starting to regress again. Yet, what could he utter in retaliation? Despite scouring his mind for something, he came short. He stalled these insecurities as well as he could, but snippets of Ashley's confidence in him beginning to dwindle reared their ugly heads nevertheless…

“Oh, you shouldn't be criticizing anyone,” Fiore retorted, taking the rest aback. Momentarily peering behind the host — toward Julia — she regarded the sardonic host once more, sneering. “You're such a petulant jerk, I bet the other guy working under you quit. And if he's the same one who failed to check that simulation enough? Can't blame him. Your whining must've made tinkering impossible.”

Clenching his fists, Brian Smith had half a mind to backhand her face. Scanning the attentive faces of both others competitors and even Julia, however, rationality swooped in. Doing such in broad daylight, with witnesses ringing them, would end his career, which already found itself on the line. Quelling his urges, he distanced himself from them.

“Stupid fucking brat…” He muttered under his breath. This wouldn't slide…

Processing the aid he'd just received, Will gazed down at the girl. “Thanks…” He mumbled, still ashamed over giving up so easily.

“It's nothing. But you're not reverting back to letting the past control you, you hear?” Fiore asserted, stamping her foot. Coming closer, she hissed lower so the other two wouldn't overhear. “Remember what I said about you being a likely target? We can't let Dan have the option to gun for you, if we want to induce him to side with us tonight via logic. Buckle up and kick that fear of yours in the face — keep moving forward.”

Though on the verge of balking for a moment, Will clenched the margins tighter. Her words? Harsh. Unlike that rant she'd unleashed on him during season one, however, her current shouts didn't exude malice. No-nonsense? Certainly. But not contemptuous.

In fact, it sparked a surge of recollections. Times Ashley had assisted him in overcoming other, smaller frights. Encouragement provided whenever he doubted his ability to surmount his weaknesses. And most of all…

___________

Two figures — one limber and outgoing, the other bulky and rather skittish — readied themselves for temporary separation, awaiting the latter's ride. Both loitered right outside the entrance to a farm in Texas. A cloudless sky hung over them — a merciless sun raising local temperatures to sweltering heights.

“I'll be rooting for you,” Ashley reassured, her lovely southern accent making her partner's heart flutter. Yet, it also saddened him, knowing he wouldn't get to hear it for who knew how long — on top of the constant stress he would face shortly.

“Um… Ashley, are you sure this is a good idea?” Will voiced concern, shifting slightly in place. “I'm not sure how I'll cope with everything without you there… Not to mention, last time I competed… went very badly…”

The cowgirl gripped his shoulder, putting on a jaunty grin. “Don't worry. The past is the past. I bet you'll shock everyone this time.” She assured. Caressing his cheek, her voice softened. “And even if you don't, I'll be proud of you either way. I promise…”

Eyes watering, the brickhouse wiped them with a mix of embarrassment and joy. “I really don't deserve someone as great as you.” His tone brimmed with gratitude.

Leaning in, they shared a long, tender kiss — and only broke it when the vehicle set to retrieve Will arrived.

___________

Nostalgia pooled within his heart, soon igniting. Of course, it didn't transmute him into an intrepid, olympic-level swimmer. However, this nudge sufficed in getting him to at least give it his best shot.

“You're right…” Will concurred, evoking a smirk from the girl.

Viewing their exchange, Dan frowned. Their words were too quiet for him to make out. However, visual intel got the gears in his head turning. Whatever they conferred over, it didn't bode well, he knew. He took a gander over his own note — Mess-Hall. Though it failed to set off any alarms, he recognized how treacherous these vague hints could-

“What… what is this?” Alessandro objected, orbs dilated and trained upon his slip. Utter bewilderment surged throughout him, briefly muddling his thoughts. This… It couldn't be for real, right? How… How could their host be so sick?

Perceiving his discomfort, Dan quirked an eyebrow, puzzled. Somewhat concerned, too. In hopes that lending a hand would expedite reparations between them, he inched closer.

“Is something wrong?” He quizzed cautiously. Tact wasn't his strong suit, honestly. But he endeavored to exercise it as well as possible. Following that earlier blunder, it was imperative. “What did it say?”

Before Alessandro could even attempt to articulate an answer, Brian Smith wiggled his eyebrows at him. Despite prior ordeals painting him thoroughly as a scumbag, this demeanor rang as particularly vile — viscerally repulsive, evoking unpleasant memories.

“Come on~” The host drawled salaciously. “I'm being so generous, giving you such a simple task to fulfill. Considering your spot, you should be jumping at this opportunity, anyway.” Drawing closer, he ogled the model. “Don't keep me waiting…” He reached a hand toward him.

Reflexes kicking in, Alessandro rammed both hands against the other. This unannounced, frantic blow downed the host, who groaned while supine on the grass. Screwing his accursed slip up, Alessandro bolted down the dirtpath leading to camp.

The remaining three exchanged stupefied countenances. Especially Dan, whose heart wrenched at seeing his best friend's shaken mind further agitated. Yet, reminding himself of that request for space — and looking to reinforce his position with immunity — he stayed rooted there.

“Ugh… fucking drama queen. Hope he enjoys losing out on immunity,” Brian Smith snarled, regaining attention as he hauled himself afoot. Swiping soil off his khakis, he glowered at Julia. “And why the fuck did you just stand there like some lazy bitch?” He spat.

Shrugging, she barely managed to bite down a sardonic grin — maintaining her level expression. “You didn't ask for help, and I wouldn't dare presume what you wanted,” she reasoned, taking slight satisfaction.

Baring his teeth, the host scoffed. “Oh, you're lucky the show is so close to the end, or you'd be fired, bitch — now get to work inspecting all that shit.” Head snapping toward the three competitors, he scoffed. “You three? Head to your assigned locations.” With that, he whirled round, retiring inside.

Upon receiving a nod from Fiore, Will set off.

Eyes briefly fixating upon the trail Alessandro stormed down, Dan bit back a distraught breath. It drilled that unfortunate truth deeper into his mind. Any semblance of stability he'd possessed prior to last night? Gone. And what was he left with? It took him back to the beginning of this journey. Riding that bus, lacking a seating partner. Resolved to stick it to those assholes online, yet unsure how to proceed when everyone else seemed buddy-buddy with each other.

He'd gone back to square one…

Alone…

Catching himself tearing up, Dan shook his head vigorously. Letting guilt hamper his chances of victory would render it all pointless. His bed made, he swore to strive for triumph. To trounce his detractors? To get his hands on that prize? Previously, those were his biggest motivators. But now? He just… desperately prayed this sorrow would serve a purpose.

Drawing a long intake, Dan started toward the entrance to the mess-hall. But he wasn't even allowed five steps.

“Wait,” Fiore urged. Dashing over to block his path, she wound up kicking that ball of creased paper a few feet away. Paying that no mind, she regarded him austerely — shrewdness curbing smugness, even as it threatened to curl her lips. “We need a moment to talk.”

Considering her with distrust, Dan folded his arms. Was this girl merely stalling so her ally could win? Displeasure coursed through him, but he restrained his countenance, despite how much its muscles itched to scowl. Even without getting held back, immunity wasn't guaranteed. With their bond on the rocks, the nerd felt unable to rely on a tiebreaker. Thus, he begrudgingly stopped and listened — preferring not to risk unknowingly motivating her to gun for him.

“What is it?” He groaned, fidgeting.

“Relax,” Fiore scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “With Alessandro forfeiting immediately, you're at no risk of being the target tonight. I noticed you trying to strike up conversation with that model. So, I may as well enlighten you on what's your best bet.” She didn't bother masking her intentions.

Without delay, implications registered. The dweeb's orbs widened behind his glasses, brimming with bewilderment. Was this girl serious right now?

“Why the hell would I vote Alessandro off? He's my friend!” He snapped, stomping one foot. First, this brat condescended to him this morning. And now, she believed she could convince him to eliminate his friend. “Besides, why would I shoot myself in the foot and give you two the majority?”

Rolling her eyes, Fiore snapped her fingers — hoping to instigate functionality inside that nerd's noggin. “Did you forget the finale is coming soon?” She pointed out. “This is the last ceremony, genius. Numbers are irrelevant afterward.”

Words clicking with him, Dan's protests died in his throat. Simmering down, he pondered her case. Indeed, this noon would be their last opportunity to cast votes this season. Tomorrow, their fates revolved entirely around their performance. Being frank? He didn't fancy his odds there.

“Oh, and that's not all you should be worrying about…” Fiore interjected, unable to restrain a smug smirk, as her efforts went swimmingly thus far. “Burning and pissing off so many people is bound to backfire, you know?” Whipping around, she glanced over her shoulder, continuing. “Remember what I told you yesterday? That you shouldn't expect anyone to be jumping to your corner?”

Stumped, Dan stared, mouth hanging open. Despite showing up amongst the repertoire of arguments Fiore leveraged to sway him last round, that factor had slipped his mind entirely amidst all this chaos.

Deeming his silence confirmation, Fiore faced him once more. She advanced toward him, her grin stretching wide. In spite of her diminutive stature, she emanated a sinister aura. Perhaps Dan's piling anxieties had enfeebled his confidence to a significant degree, leaving him vulnerable. Who knew?

Nevertheless, her subsequent elaboration didn't ease matters.

“Now that Blake's gone, everyone just has even more reason not to support you.” She asserted, circling him methodically — her pace even, calculated to intimidate him. “Regardless of how low general opinion on that surfer is, it's clear he's the sole reason you survived that final 8 vote. And you betrayed him. Not out of selfless heroism, but self-interest dosed with petty jealousy…”

“I…” He trailed off, unsure how to refute her claim. For he couldn't ascertain whether it even constituted falsehood.

“Face it, you're about as screwed as me, if not more,” Fiore stated mercilessly. “And I assure you Alessandro won't uphold your pact to reach the final 2 together. If anything, whoever volunteers to aid him might encourage him to ensure you have no shot getting there…”

Shoulders sagging, Dan clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, defeated. He yearned to dispute those statements. But paranoia set in. Assessing facts painted a rather bleak picture. Conferring over non-personal matters breached Alessandro's boundaries now. So, what hope was there for their personal ties to recuperate?

“What's the point, anyway?” Dan muttered, averting his gaze. “Even if you were correct, what good would siding with you this round do me?”

Fiore guffawed. “Simple. Both of us are unlikely to get too much support, and are the weakest here. It's in our best interest that we face off in the final 2.” She expounded.

Scrunching up his face, Dan hummed. “Aren't you and Will friends now?” He called out. “Besides, why should he be taken to the finale over Alessandro?”

Losing her malice to an extent, Fiore shrugged with a collected expression.

“I'm not suggesting we torment him, or anything. I'm proposing a team-up, because we both know we wouldn't manage to defeat him one-on-one. There's outright cruelty, like what I did to him in season one, and there's simple gameplay,” she explained. Folding her arms, she frowned. “As for your second question… well, Alessandro seems way more likely to anticipate you pulling this on him, given you betrayed him once already.”

Eyes shifting downward, Dan rubbed his elbow. It pained him to admit, but this opportunity could be indispensable. But committing to it felt so… dirty.

“I… need time to decide,” he settled on. “Let's see who wins immunity first, okay?” He requested.

Heaving a sigh, Fiore nodded. “Alright, but keep my warning in mind.” She admonished, departing.

Alone, Dan stood before the door, hand hovering over the handle — his mind heavy with a flurry of emotion.

—Confessional :Dan—

“She makes a fair point… but can I trust her?” He stammered, blatantly attempting to avoid mentioning the real issue at play. But he speedily realized the futility of such efforts. Shoulders sinking, he slouched.

“Fine… I really, really don't want to backstab Alessandro.” Despite this confession, his orbs soon drifted down. “But… if I want to have a chance, do I really have a choice?”

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Like, I said — I'm making sure I have two options at the final three, to optimize my shot at success.” She clarified. Pondering a bit, she felt it necessary to elaborate. “Don't mistake this for me going back to not giving a single fuck again. I'm doing it because it's necessary to increase my chances.”

Hands on her lap, she hung her head, sighing.

“I can't be a disappointment again…”

—End Confessional—

Taking several moments to pull himself together, Dan drew as steady an intake as possible. Brushing aside the clear jitter riddling his breath, he shambled through that doorway, shutting the door behind him.

Rather than following him inside, or switching to another scene, the shot lingered.

Ensuring the absence of potential witnesses, Julia proceeded with a brisk step, bending over and plucking that crumpled slip off the dirt. Sure, those three assholes she spied upon last night might eventually catch this footage. But given their sleazy nature and lacking work ethic, she knew whatever warnings they sent Brian Smith wouldn't arrive in time to thwart her.

Unfurling the paper, she glanced over it, lips curling with revulsion. Although technically unneeded, taking into account prior atrocities from this wretched host, an obligation to expose this horrid urge as well prompted her to pocket it.

“You'll get yours…” She swore beneath her breath, then wandered off to procure another ingredient for her scheme.

___________

“Come on, don't keep me waiting…” Brian Smith called out, leading the nerd's gaze over. He gestured to the stool across him — visibly cheap compared to the high-backed, padded seat he occupied. Impatience shone within his orbs, yet a smirk evinced smugness. Not a propitious mixture. “The others may need time to reach the site of their assignment… but your task may be on the lengthier side…”

Embracing himself, Dan complied. On his way, those frugal, subpar floorboards groaned upon every step. Rendered jumpy thanks to earlier interactions, his muscles contracted from the noise. Spotting how the host's smirk grew slightly, he did his best to shove down his unease. He'd rather deny that bastard whatever satisfaction he sought in this.

Scraping back that backless chair, he suppressed a wince, and plopped on.

Disquieting stillness pervaded their surroundings. Was he meant to start? Or wait for the host to commence? Unsure, Dan observed everything atop that wooden surface before them. A couple lined sheets. A pencil. An eraser. Nothing else.

“So… what exactly is my task?” He finally ventured to inquire, conjecturing Brian Smith might drag this discomfort on longer if permitted.

Clicking his tongue, Brian Smith tapped his finger. Purposefully drawing this out just a tad farther — savoring the resulting unease within Dan. Once fulfilled, he straightened up. Rather than direct exposition, however, he inserted a question of his own.

“Tell me, how much did the… ‘feedback’ you received, following your previous participation in this franchise, affect you mentally?” The host quizzed. Both his tone and malicious glint indicated awareness regarding the answer. He wanted to tug unsavory recollection to the forefront. And succeeded.

Tensing up, Dan's clenched hands quivered. Flashes assailed his brain — memories he abhorred, yet couldn't expunge. Coming out of that show, the first month had been hell. Many fans failed to retain his existence. Cast-related commentary reflected this. Getting nicknames tacked onto him across vain youtubers’ uploads wasn't even the most humiliating experience he faced, however.

Haters took the crown…

Catching himself, Dan bit his bottom lip — bundling those fragments into the background again. Wispy crimson dribbled down his chin. Wiping it with his sleeve, he heaved a sigh.

“I don't want to go into detail about that. But bottomline? It was overwhelming, in an awful way,” Dan clarified. A sinking feeling set in.

“I see. I'm afraid your mission may trigger sour feelings, then…”

Clasping both hands together, Brian Smith reclined into his comfortable chair. Oozing mischief, he lazily pointed to the writing material set between them.

“I'm looking for entertainment. At your expense, to be more precise…” He stifled a snicker. He pressed a finger to the edge of one sheet. “Replicate the kind of comment your detractors would send — make the most scathing, humiliating passage you could imagine getting directed at you. Then, read it aloud. I want a full page, at least.”

“W-what?” Dan quivered, breath hitching.

“I'll judge your performance based on how amusing I find it,” Brian Smith concluded. “Just be warned, my sense of humor is very extreme.” Seconds later, he added. “I'd advise you to start soon. Unless you'd rather instantly accept being vulnerable once more before the finale…”

Despite mounting perturbation, Dan grasped the pencil. Semi-finals were never a good time to reckon oneself secure. In season one, Alec paid dearly for that. The librarian had a sizable fanbase, though. Dan? Not so much. He feared losing now, especially over growing complacent, might rouse further mockery.

Swallowing dismay, he began scribbling.

___________

For how much roaming dark woods used to frighten Will, they now seemed somewhat soothing. In fact, their inevitable end, as he emerged into Tipiskaw's beach, left him nervous.

Gallons of sunlight bathed him, yet did little to sweeten his predicament. Scanning those sandy grounds, he spotted a plastic table. A stone topped it, pinning down a sheet to prevent occasional wind from propelling it away.

Though his trial's certerpiece was apparent, Will edged toward the extremely out-of-place structure with dread. Sliding the stone off that paper, he gingerly picked it up, reading its content.

‘About 25-feet into this lake — assuming you walk straight into it from where you've found this note — you'll see a single buoy. A metal receptacle is fastened to its bottom. Your remote is inside.

Good luck, ;)’

Fears confirmed, the brickhouse had no choice but to turn his focus onto the watery expanse ahead. Eyeing said marker, he gripped those margins tighter.

For a split-second, he saw himself drowning again. He cut that off with a harsh headshake. Knowing he was in for a rough time, he braced himself.

___________

Uneventfully trekking down a cruddy trail for a half-hour bored Fiore. Despite this purportedly high-stakes situation — these were the semi-finals, people — whatever frenzy Brian Smith hoped to instill didn't rouse within her.

Immunity was a nice safety-blanket, sure. But she wasn't desperate for it. Last time she craved it, she just wanted to stick it to Hunter. In fact, presuming Dan stuck to his ostensible strategic mindset, Will clinching this round could benefit her further. Even so, Fiore refused to chicken out. She couldn't risk Dan potentially gaining immunity, alongside a confidence boost. Otherwise, it might nullify her work on getting him to vote off Alessandro.

Once Fiore reached that oh-so-familiar bus-top, however, everything drained off her mind. Two figures of opposing genders loitered near that shameful bench. Upon noticing the girl, both pairs of eyes trained upon her, effusing contempt.

“W-what the hell…?” Fiore blurted, stupefied. Backing several steps, she gaped, orbs as wide as saucers. Disbelieving what — or rather, who — greeted her, she shut and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps her journey had furtively taken a massive toll somehow, addling her. Dehydration? That worked. She did sometimes arrive drinking that river water. Maybe the scorching sun had affected her…

“Do not get your hopes up,” Fiore's mother- no, not anymore- Sabine stated coldly. Even there, countless miles from civilization, the auburnhead donned her labcoat. Last time someone — a coworker — accidentally stained that garment, she had framed them for fraud, getting the poor bastard fired and disgraced.

Said memory fleeted past Fiore's mind. Had bewilderment not obliterated her nonchalance, she would've scoffed over how hypocritical it all was. Instead, she trembled. She hadn't anticipated their presence. She wouldn't have bothered attempting her challenge if aware.

Leo — Sabine's husband (Fiore refused to regard either via familial terminology, even mentally) — flanked his spouse, arms folded across his chest. The dark-brown-haired man fixed his disowned daughter with just as disdainful a stare. Humphing, he fished a note off his pocket.

“I fail to see any point in even giving you this. You stand no chance. But I suppose watching you blunder as usual may give us a good laugh,” he sneered, hurling it smack dab in her face.

Snapping off her befuddled stupor, Fiore swallowed her anxiety. Hardening her expression to the best of her ability, she removed the sheet from her face, scanning its content.

‘Happy to see them again? No? Too bad.

To win your remote, you must elicit a strong enough emotion (other than mockery) from them.

Good luck, :>’

Registering her task, Fiore looked up at the couple. Just as she unfastened her mouth, Sabine interjected scornfully.

“You shouldn't be wasting even more oxygen by talking. I already rue the day Leo and I thought going at it once without contraception wouldn't go wrong.”

—Confessional :Fiore—

Renting that note to shreds, she compacted them into an orb. Then, tossed it down.

“You absolute son of a fucking bitch!” She hollered, stomping on those tatters repeatedly. “Screw you, screw you, screw you!” She ranted, eyes brimming.

—End Confessional—

___________

“Those mushrooms that sexist pig from season two wanted to poison someone else with would be too conspicuous…” Julia mused to herself, bummed. Passing beside a cluster of red-headed mushrooms — white dots riddling their tops — she sighed.

Very unfortunate, indeed. For Brian Smith doubtless deserved it. However, her chief goal wasn't just to poison him. She needed to keep her priorities straight. Otherwise, she'd blow her shot to deliver justice.

Turning, she strayed from the trail. Amidst the several pointless errands the bastard had assigned her — clearly, just to isolate John — she had come across something useful. Luckily, she had memorized the location.

Another minute, and she encountered the exact requisite for her plot. Several orange fungi littered a rotting stump, their visual similarities to an edible species belying their toxicity. Though, these were nowhere as hazardous as other kinds, including the sort involved in that aforementioned second season's medical evacuation.

“Guess jack-o-lantern's are useful for more than just adorning doorsteps — even if these aren't the type I'd use for Halloween decoration,” Julia snorted, producing plastic gloves from her pocket. Slipping those on and fishing out a zip-lock bag, she squinted toward the canopy screening the sky.

A camera could catch her in the act. However, she didn't worry too much about getting busted. For one, contestants were assigned rather specific spots this round. Given the lacking professionalism that ‘editing crew’ exuded, she seriously questioned their drive to even check those three camera feeds, let alone flip through the rest. Speaking of, considering that stench and their demeanor, they seemed the type to spend working hours high off their minds.

Extracting fine strips off a mushroom, she gingerly stored them inside that plastic bag, which she pocketed. With that done, she discarded her gloves and set off back where she came from, keeping her place slow so she'd take long enough for her cover story to look believable.

___________

“Should have aborted her,” Leo snarled, receiving a nod from his wife. Both stared their former daughter down callously.

Fiore sprung back, trembling. Despite her tough facade and claims not to care, she… did. Obviously, she harbored zero love toward these hypocritical assholes fronting her. However, their abandonment stung regardless — the fact they dropped her somewhere so merciless and cruel compounded her dismay.

Even so, she crumpled and pocketed that note, trying to steel her resolve. She wouldn't let them victimize her. She couldn't. Not again.

“Zip it!” She hissed, tone quavering — her unbothered mask starting to crumble mere moments after she conjured it up again. “You don't get to insult me after everything, you pieces of-!”

SLAP

Fiore thudded down with a yelp. Instinctively, her hand jerked onto her throbbing cheek. That would leave a mark. Tears flowed. Eyes scorching upward, they met that witch she once called her mother. A remorseless glower greeted her, alongside a still raised hand, as though she were ready to strike again.

“You don't get to talk,” Sabine snarled. “You have no shot at winning — either immunity, or this show. You're going to sit there, and we'll beat you over the head with the truth.” Those words shed light over the full scope of their intentions. Not only had they abandoned Fiore… they wished to take everything out on her, too.

Grappling with this sorrowful epiphany, Fiore remained prone over dirt, quivering. She yearned to swallow her tears, and regain that nonchalant front, so badly. No matter how hard she tried, however, it seemed impossible now. She felt powerless. Just as she had all those years ago.

“That orphanage is exactly where you should rot,” Sabine proceeded, sprinkling salt over that emotional wound. “Hellspawn like you don't deserve sympathy.” She sneered. She kicked a clump of soil onto the poor girl's face, as though those statements weren't harsh enough.

Leo nodded. “As soon as we saw how they treated those under their custody, we knew that place was where you deserved to be,” he concurred. “The staff treats you as they should — like a demon to be punished.”

Fruitlessly screening her ears, Fiore failed to choke back a sob.

___________

“How the fuck did it take you so long to check two challenge areas?” Brian Smith chastised, head snapping toward the creaking door. Had he not derived such mirth, courtesy of Dan's current distress, he would blow up on her.

Folding her arms, Julia resisted an urge to facepalm. Perhaps she should've accounted for how unreasonable her superior was. Nothing to fret over, though.

“Both sites are rather distant from one another, sir,” she reasoned.

“Quit talking back. I've got better things to deal with than your insolence. Go fetch me a cup of coffee, now.” He commanded, jabbing a finger toward the kitchen sector.

Despite getting degraded, Julia restrained her indignation and bowed her head affirmatively, her compacted fists going unnoticed. Inwardly, she reassured herself. Let him think he's got it all figured out. It would only make his undoing all the richer. Looping those notions mentally, she padded the way he pointed, evanescing from view.

Meanwhile, Dan jittered. His right hand had whitened at its knuckles — stemming from pressure applied to keep steady, so as not to risk utterly botching penmanship. The prospect of needing to redo it all filled him with dread.

Jotting down degrading notes targeting himself once stung immensely. It evoked recollections he'd wanted to stave off.

How mockery flooded his email and socials throughout those initial months. All over his gameplay. Yet, Ellie never got anything beyond anger from TomJake stans — with even that receding once they made up. Not to mention how Gabby — who he got tons of flak over allegedly mistreating — never received similar backlash over her wrath against Tess’ understandable move.

It was so unfair…

Wrapping up the composition with a dot, he looked up at Brian Smith.

“It…” Dan gulped down a snivel. “I-It's done…”

Cracking a smirk, the host crossed his arms. “Then recite it,” he decreed.

“A-Aren't you going to check it out f-first? You know… to ensure the word count matches parameters-”

“Now,” Brian Smith reiterated. Leaning forth, he set both elbows upon that tabletop.

Realizing the host was adamant on denying him even a minute-long reprieve, Dan's dwindling confidence plummeted further. Taking a gander over his text, he trembled, grimacing. From past experiences, however, he tagged the host as short-fused. And he preferred to dodge getting screeched at.

With much reluctance, Dan picked up his paper, rising off his stool. Needing some moments to even stomach initiation.

“Pam… or is it Ham? Whatever, counting sand grains on a beach is less of a waste than spending time recalling his name.” He commenced, cheeks flushing over his own insults. Shame suffused him, yet this was an indispensable aspect, frequently surfacing amongst that hateful sea online. Thus, he couldn't omit it.

Forcing down the lump in his throat, he proceeded.

“He's such a nothing-burger — they might as well have just called thirteen players to compete in season one. All he did was be boring, a traitor to poor Gabby — who totally wasn't hypocritical herself — and whiny. The only good moment involving him was when Gabby idoled his ass out. That's what you get for messing with girl-bossing, slaytastic Ellie, who is such an angel really.”

Fine. Perhaps Dan had subconsciously taken the liberty to weave some satire into his text. However, he wouldn't have been able to endure this, if he tried playing it fully straight. Even with this imparted irony, this recital stirred memories of being put down constantly, his voice cracking as he resumed.

Busy straining to proceed, he didn't bother checking Brian Smith's expression.

“Regardless of what people may say about casting Connor and Yul over Rosa Maria and Karol, the Disventure Camp crew was absolutely right to pass over that purple dud in favor of Ashley. Her two-year strong grudge against that child is so much more engaging than what tuque-head would have provided — nothing.

I never want him to compete again… And if he must make even a cameo, it better be to get whopped, apologize to the divas profusely, and admit he's a failure…”

Reaching the conclusion, Dan gripped those margins while awaiting the host's verdict. He narrowly held down the urge to tear this piece to ribbons. No amount of injected sarcasm could alleviate his chagrin. It better have been worth it…

Tutting snuffed out any optimism within Dan.

“I don't even need time to digest it — a definite failure,” Brian Smith vetoed, checking his nails just to smear salt over the wound. His lips curled derisively. “First, don't think I missed how short that was for a full page. Clearly, you tried skating through with large lettering or something.”

Face scrunching, Dan gritted his teeth, his annoyance slipping through his efforts to maintain a polite tone. “You did not state anything pertaining to word count, only that it needed to fill a page,” he pointed out, eliciting nothing beyond one handwave. The host resumed dissecting his performance.

“Second, I clearly meant for you exclusively to get singled out for humiliation.” Propping his chin in entwined fingers, he eyed the contestant condescendingly. “You were supposed to play it straight here. To show you're willing to subject yourself to embarrassment for victory. But you bailed, resorting to parody to ease your frankly pathetic turmoil.”

Repressing a huff, Dan averted his gaze, swallowing tears. All that effort. For nothing?

Pressing a finger on the wooden surface, Brian Smith shrugged. “Needless to say, you'll have to try harder, if you want to win. Assuming you even have time, that is.”

The subsequent snicker drove Dan over the edge. Foregoing a verbal response, he crumpled the sheet in a flash. Pelting the bastard with the resulting ball, he stormed out the door, letting tears flow freely once outside and away from others’ sight.

—Confessional :Dan—

Huddling on his stump, he tightened his expression. Unfortunately, despite his endeavor, floodgates had burst open.

“That bastard…” He muttered, fruitlessly hoping to fixate on indignation. Regardless, his orbs continued leaking. “That… was a low blow…”

Recognizing deflection was futile, he tucked his face against his drawn knees, sniffling. Moments later, he meekly spoke again.

“Even with how far I've come… I feel worse than ever…”

Although the scene promptly cut away, he lingered there for several minutes. Just letting his grief out. He couldn't express it with any of his fellow contenders around. Not anymore. The shot at that prize was his last possession here. To squander it would render all he did — good and, for the most part, bad — worthless.

—End Confessional—

“What a drama queen,” Brian Smith scorned, watching the door sway. That dweeb hadn't even shut it adequately.

Swatting that crumpled material off his face, it plopped down before him. Grabbing it, he stood up, about to consign it to a trash-can. Ruminating on the indubitable strife last night generated between Dan and Alessandro, however, a dastardly ploy made him retake his seat.

Footfalls neared. Glee prevented Brian Smith from griping over Julia keeping him waiting as he normally would — tipping her off that he had something in mind. Nevertheless, focused on her own machinations, she didn't pry, merely proffering his cup, praying he wouldn't question the nature of those visible particles sloshing with the liquid.

“Here is your coffee, sir.”

Taking it, Brian Smith cracked a smirk.

“Could you go fetch me something quickly?”

___________

Splash

Splash

Water sloshed on his skin, sending jolts of apprehension across him. Steeling himself, Will mustered further courage to forge on.

Flashes plagued his mind, however.

Constant pressure over his restrained lower-leg, as it stayed sandwiched between rock. How each feeble attempt to extricate it himself led to scraping.

Will's waist was immersed. Increasing wetness correlated to escalating agitation. Fragments pelted his headspace unremittingly.

Endless thrashing, panic soaring as rationality plummeted each second his lungs failed to draw oxygen. Death seemed more and more certain, no matter how much he struggled. Regrets, fears and deprivation-induced cerebral sputtering ricocheted rapidly — eventually turning into utter gibberish. Consciousness started receding…

“I… I can't!” Will cried, just as he reached the cusp of needing to swim, swiveling round and retreating frantically.

—Confessional :Will—

Rubbing his forearm remorsefully, he heaved an exhausted breath.

“I… panicked…” He justified, feeling like crap.

—End Confessional—

Reaching dry land, he flumped onto warm sand. Sunlight glared down, sweltering. Perspiration beaded his brow, as he panted, chest heaving. A minute fleeted, whilst he collected himself.

Cognition resurfaced. Mortification accompanied. Even with pep-talk from Ashley at the final eight, and Fiore's aggressive, but oddly well-intended spiel, he demurred again over facing inner demons.

“What is wrong with me?” He huffed dejectedly. Ashley's assurance that she'd be proud regardless rang through his mind. Yet, his discontent didn't abate. Briefly, he failed to apprehend why. But soon, it slotted into place…

His current shame? It didn't originate from dreading abandonment. Perhaps managing to befriend Fiore — in spite of hostility from both within DC1 and the start of this season — contributed? Their connection had nothing beyond hostility beforehand — yet bridges were mended. Following that, picturing Ashley — someone who stuck by him unwaveringly ever since that first season — ditching him grew all the more ludicrous.

This nagging sensation… it emanated from within. Gathering himself, he rose to his feet again, pondering over this epiphany. Although the exact time-frame pertaining to this shift eluded him, he perceived what truly nagged him now. Bunching his hands tightly, determination permeated his expression.

He refused to capitulate to fright. But not out of trepidation over what failure would entail regarding his bonds. Such motivation just led back to another fear. No. He yearned to accomplish this for himself…

Inhaling sharply, he charged forth.

___________

A leaf swished past that sign — Camp Tipiskaw — disappearing placidly into foliage shortly. This tranquil motion contrasted what transpired below.

“Wouldn't shock me if this is the last reprieve you'll get from what you deserve,” Sabine sneered — despite her and Leo dunking on their former daughter for ten minutes straight as of now, neither showed any fatigue — hands pressed to her hips.

Leo bobbed his head concurrently. “It's already preposterous how you've been invited back twice. But surely, whatever entertainment value you lent must have dried out by this point.”

Eyes bloodshot, Fiore loitered before them, head drooped. Tears ceased, solely due to orbs drying up. Slightly hiccups escaped her every now and then, though. A nightmare. Exactly what she perceived.

However, Sabine took a step too far.

“That scruffy librarian must be deranged to hang out with you so much…”

Fiore stiffened. Something else peeking through her distress. No way was she going there… Her fists tightened, yet went overlooked. Therefore, further fuel got fed to the fire.

“Even so, I wager even he shall eventually see what a massive mistake getting close to you was…”

Fists shaking, rage began pouring into her mind. The gall of that witch, both of them. Their cruel words eddied across her mind, alongside their nonchalance whilst disowning her. All this, and they had the nerve to taunt her over the only person she's ever seen as family since?

Fiore adjusted her stance, expression darkening. Her orbs blazed. Despite her throbbing heart, she drew a line.

“Too bad he will have already squandered time and money in adop-”

“You know?” Fiore cut her off, arms folded and eyes squinting. Though agitation was far from gone — that invective stung, after all — spite prevailed. “It's so ironic. Both of you keep calling me a disappointment. You disowned me so you wouldn't have to deal with me. Yet, you remained hung up enough to come here.”

Sabine sprung back a step over this allegation. Stupefaction deluged her. What had this petulant child just claimed? She was supposed to remain quiet and take it, like she deserved. This jarring boldness robbed the labcoat-wearing woman of her voice momentarily.

Although struck silent as well, Leo recovered quicker, astonishment giving way to indignation. Fists clenched, he stomped closer, glaring daggers toward the young girl.

“Who gave you permission to talk?! Learn some respect you-”

“I'm just saying,” Fiore interrupted, masking her apprehension over his demeanor. Courtesy of that slap minutes prior, she knew this duo wasn't above getting physical.

Ire overshadowed trepidation, though. Her past claims not to care about her parents’ resentment and mistreatment of her were bullshit, sure. It hounded her — and maybe it always would, to an extent. However, in spite of what she once believed… others were invested in her well-being.

Besides Alec, Will also demonstrated overt concern for her. Even someone she literally framed as crazy at one point eventually forgave her. Yet both people responsible for conceiving her — and who failed to raise her into someone deemed moral — never could.

They lost any right to blame her long ago.

All this passed Fiore's mind in mere moments, before she resumed speaking.

“Didn't you two disown me so you wouldn't have to deal with me?” She scoffed, gesturing over both. “To get me out of your hair?” Embittered, she snarled. “And yet, who decided to accept some shady host's invitation to make a cameo on this trashy show? And for what? To bully a child you disowned?”

Breaking off her baffled stillness, Sabine advanced past her husband, raising a hand. “Listen here-” But her swing missed, as the youth — learning from last time — jerked aside.

“You're pathetic, both of you,” Fiore spat. To reduce their height-based sense of superiority, she hopped onto the bench. Staring fiercely, she narrowed her eyes. “If I'm the spawn of Satan, guess what? It was your job to prevent that! But instead, you're worse!”

Leo flared up. “How dare you-?!”

“Oh, don't even try denying it!” She hollered, thrusting a finger his way. “I may have been only five or six, but you were terrible at hiding the stench of alcohol! I saw you getting questioned by that officer. When they mentioned two men getting run over, I sure as hell caught that wad of cash you handed them.”

Eyes dilating, Leo flinched back, flustered.

“And you…” Fiore hissed, flaming orbs flicking to her once so-called mother. “You ruined another person's entire career — might have sent their whole family into ruin — over a fucking labcoat!” She barked.

Hatred overtook Sabine's countenance. How dare this insolent wretch talk back? What did she even know? She was a mere ten years of age. A ten year-old, despicable waste.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” She shrilled loud enough to jolt both other parties — though, her partner seemed more affected than the girl. “YOU CAN SPOUT WHATEVER BULLSHIT YOU WANT, YOU'RE STILL A FAILURE, YOU HEAR?! AND YOU'LL ALWAYS FAIL AT EVERYTHING!”

Right as Fiore readied a counter, she recalled something. Thus, she fished out that slip and unfurled it. Casting it a cursory look, she grinned with realization.

“Oh, really?” She snarked, turning the sheet to show those two. “Because, under the conditions set here, you're the failure here.”

Blanching, Sabine reeled back, her anger sapped. “W-what?” She exclaimed, wide-eyed — her husband wordlessly replicating her reaction.

Extending a hand, Fiore's eyes glinted smugly. “Don't be a sore loser now, hand that remote over.” Given their garb, it was clear Sabine would be the one guarding the device.

___________

In and out. In and out.

Perhaps abruptly stopping in his tracks appeared anticlimactic. However, flashes of the past had gotten too painful yet again. This time, though, Will exercised enough willpower to eschew dashing back ashore. Instead, he stayed around the farthest point wherein his foot contacted the sea-floor.

Inwardly, that encounter with death reared its ugly head incessantly. It grasped at his psyche. Wanting him to remain shackled to his trauma — as he had all these years. It conjured every ghastly sensation.

Even so, Will held on. Ripples sent shivers down his spine, yet he didn't retreat. Every compulsion, he repelled via reassertions of his longing for liberation. Myriad experiences involved uncertainty. And yet, what worthy life could one lead without taking at least some risks? For so long, horror weighed him down.

Enough was enough…

Inhaling deeply, he dove forth.

___________

Over at Tipiskaw's bus-stop, several tense moments elapsed. An emboldened Fiore hadn't come off the bench, holding out a hand still. She wouldn't tolerate any nonsense.

Leo and Sabine exchanged flummoxed looks. They grappled with comprehending how, indeed, this impertinent brat bested them. In their desire to humiliate her, they wound up getting outplayed instead. This was… inconceivable.

However, their incredulity soon morphed into contempt. Sabine's orbs flicked down to her labcoat pocket — validating the girl's suspicions. Snarling, she crossed her arms, hmphing.

“A brat like you doesn't deserve immunity.” She hissed, her husband concurring. Trial was unneeded to recognize neither would ever budge. Likewise, given their ensuing mocking faces, both seemed assured this ruling couldn't be bypassed.

Fiore's hand curled into a fist. Aggravation had fully eclipsed her self-doubt. She sure as hell wasn't going to stand for their bullshit.

On the edge of her peripheral vision, she zeroed in upon a branch's loose extremity. Leaves tipped that twig, somehow not having sunk it yet. How? She didn't care to speculate.

___________

Flashes assailed Will's brain relentlessly. Desperate, futile struggles. Despair heralding imminent, inescapable doom. They clashed and meshed into a hellish mental cacophony, clamoring for his surrender.

Despite this inner scuffle, he braved the lake farther and farther. Of course, his swimming skills were rather shabby — he hadn't truly engaged in the practice since childhood. But his head persisted above water. Thus, it sufficed.

With clumsy, yet spirited strokes, he pushed on toward that buoy.

___________

Whatever taunts Sabine and Leo intended to hurl toward their former daughter got abruptly interrupted — as a twig, and the bundle of foliage attached to it, flew into the former's face.

Sabine sprung back, appalled. The impact itself obviously didn't hurt, but revulsion welled within her. Swatting off impurities potentially clinging to her face and hair, she glowered toward the unrepenting brat.

“How DARE YOU?!” She exploded, her partner getting off his shock to join her in staring daggers at their renounced offspring.

Fiore mimed flapping lips with one hand, before answering. “Oh, fuck off already. You failed, act like a sore loser toward a fucking ten-year-old, and still expect respect? Get yourself checked into a self-awareness course, you stupid bitch.” She spat.

Orbs igniting, Sabine commanded her husband to retaliate with an erratic nod of her head. Enraged himself, he didn't need instruction.

“Don't you dare address her that way!” Leo roared. He charged on, arms outstretched to seize and punish the girl in whatever disproportionate fashion the indignant couple saw fit.

Fiore had braced herself for such escalation, however. Darting onto one end of the bench, she evaded his grasp. Not wasting a second, she leapt forth, gripping onto his shoulder. His surprise allowed her just enough time to move onto his back to attain a better hold.

“Or what? You'll get drunk and run me over with a car?!” She inflamed, ramming a knee into his back for good measure. She clung on, as he lunched and fruitlessly tugged at her — failing to obtain a sufficient hold to throw her off. He bumbled in desperate aimlessness, not watching his direction.

“Unhand him, you demon-child!” Sabine screeched, rushing her. Her failure to maintain an element of surprise landed her a punt up the chin, sending her reeling. Tripping upon a slight, unseen dip, she crashed backward.

___________

Exhaustion threatened to set in. Thankfully, the brickhouse reached his destination at last, planting both palms upon the upper base of that buoy.

Get out.

Your foot will get stuck.

No one will save you this time.

You will drown.

Panting through gritted teeth, he shoved those voices down. Taking multiple moments to recuperate, he braced himself, inhaled profusely…

And plunged himself underwater. Propelling himself downward with a few hesitant strokes, he cracked his eyes open just a smidge so as not to let too much fluid sting them. With effort, he discerned that shimmering container — rather diminutive, meaning it fortunately shouldn't be too heavy — suspended via rope.

Rounding it slightly, he saw another item taped on laterally. Sensing his lungs running out of air, he jerked a hand forth, tearing it off. Then, he scrambled upward, emerging with a sharp gasp for air.

Clasping his arms round that marker once more, he inspected his finding. A switch-blade. Inner gears turned.

___________

“Get off, you bitch!” Leo barked, thrashing wildly with no regard for where he went. He tugged at Fiore's hair, but she retaliated by scratching at the back of his neck.

“Try me!” She hollered, kneeing his back again, impelling him forth. With him not watching his path, she knew exactly how to take him out of commission. It would go off without a hitch.

“Just wait until-” Running into one of the wooden poles comprising the entrance to Camp Tipiskaw, he bashed his head there unwittingly. Concussed, he crumbled down, his former daughter hopping off at the last second to avoid getting injured herself.

An appalled gasp drew Fiore's attention back to Sabine, who'd just hauled herself back afoot.

“You wretched brat!”

“Oh, quit it!” Fiore barked back, advancing toward her. “You both ruined lives and didn't give a flying fuck either. If anything, I'm surprised your families didn't disown you like you did to me!” She shouted, partly in earnest, but also to trigger her. “YOU TWO CERTAINLY SEEM THE KIND WHO'D DESERVE IT MORE THAN EVEN ME!”

___________

Leave while you still can!
You will just get yourself killed!
You will-

Snap

Successfully severing one length, Will emerged with, drawing large intakes of air.

“Go away,” he hissed to those inner doubts, standing his ground and refusing to allow them to control him. With that, he soon dove again to get started on the remaining rope.

___________

Screeching wrathfully, Sabine lunged at Fiore.

“I'll beat you up, you shameless waste!”

Sidestepping her, Fiore swiped a stone off the soil. And flung it squarely into the still lurching woman's temple, knocking her on the ground ahead. Rushing over, Fiore fumbled in her labcoat pocket.

___________

Snap

Once the rope gave in, Will jerked his arms forth — right on time to seize that loot before it sunk into the depths. Hastening upward, he plonked it onto the overlying side of the buoy's base, which rocked the marker momentarily.

Noticing tape holding it shut, he took a couple moments to garner his strength.

___________

“Hah!” Fiore let out, whipping out that remote. Before she could press the button, however, Sabine's hand seized and yanked it back, slamming it across her face.

“You're not winning, you disgusting-!”

Utterly fed up, Fiore shrilled. Before the older female could even sit up, she rammed her tiny fist smack dab in the scientist's nose over and over.

“YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS AWAY FROM ME!” Fiore screamed, headbutting her. The impact neutralized Sabine's grip on the device, which clattered down. Ramming the wicked lady's face against soil, she retrieved the remote.

Scurrying away to insert distance between them, Fiore clutched it close to herself, shoulders heaving. Moments later, she simmered down. Leveling a frigid glare toward the hypocrite she once called her mother, she spoke quietly.

“Others I've wronged may judge me, but you two sure as hell don't have any right to do so…”

Unfortunately, the moment she went to press that button, Brian Smith's voice blared out loudspeakers.

“Will has successfully activated his remote, securing himself a spot in the finale! The rest of you? I'd advise you to make the most out of the following two hours, and prepare for the season's last ceremony!”

Upper limbs slackening against her sides, she dropped her now useless remote. Shoulders sagging, she sighed. Missing out on immunity — following this madness — was unfortunate, sure…

Feet away, Sabine raised her head.

“Guess who was right?” She sneered. “You truly are an utter failure.” Moments went without a response, briefly leading her to reckon herself victorious.

Folding her arms, however, Fiore shook her head, grinning.

“You two had to cheat in order to make me lose by a mere second.” Wagging a finger, she tutted, considering the other's downed figure. “Besides, I'm the only one still standing here. The guy over there is knocked out, and you just got a mouthful of dirt. I'd advise you not to call anyone a loser until you fix that.”

Savoring Sabine's indignant snarl, Fiore turned and set off back to camp — leaving the despicable couple to stew in their well-deserved comeuppance.

—Confessional :Fiore—

Exhaling, she rolled her eyes.

“With Will immune, Dan has less reason not to side with us — regarding strategy. But still, it kind of stung. Not the loss itself, but doing so after the crap thrown my way. I would've handily won, if not for a certain duo's pettiness…”

Despite her following sigh, she found sufficient solace to smile.

“But it wasn't all bad. Finally humiliating their asses felt so gratifying. I'm not sure how much of the footage will make the final cut. However, the prospect of the broadcast showing enough for others to see them for what they are is rather comforting…”

Setting both hands on her lap, she kept her head up.

“Alec, if you're watching this, I… hope you're proud…” She admitted.

—Confessional :Will—

Rubbing the back of his head, he beamed sheepishly.

“I never thought I'd actually get myself an individual immunity. Sure, last round happened, but two-thirds of the cast were immune. Besides, Blake only lost because he paused to save me…”

Catching this onset of self-deprecation, the brickhouse shook his head. Knowing others wouldn't want him doubting himself again, he refocused on what mattered currently.

“Actually clinching immunity? Guaranteeing myself a spot in the finale, no less? I… Coming here, I honestly thought I'd get booted early again.” Moving past that admission, he formed a heart with his fingers. “Ashley, thanks for pushing me to prove myself here.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Sunlight oversaw Camp Tipiskaw. It dappled turf all across its wooded expanse, while illuminating and warming up trails. A doubtless pleasant atmosphere…

Dan might have shared this sentiment under alternate circumstances. Sadly, diverse issues hounded him, rendering him unable to appreciate this tranquil weather. That declaration of Will's secured safety hadn't aided matters.

Fiore's proposal echoed through his mind. Shaking his head, he left it on the backburner. Stooping to stabbing Alessandro in the back seemed… unsavory.

Perhaps it sounded hypocritical. The bookworm had gone and turned on Blake last round. At that, Dan inwardly insisted both cases differed. He and Alessandro had stuck together from the outset — that surfer merely received an invitation to their group later…

Such debates fizzled out once the dirtpath ended, giving way to camp. Scanning that campsite, Dan's orbs alighted upon that very model — fleeting paralysis overtaking him.

—Confessional :Dan—

Smacking a hand onto his forehead, he let loose a weary breath, cringing.

“I… was hoping Will wouldn't win immunity. He's the dumbest of us four; however, I wager most eliminated players will flock to his aid, given he fits the ‘hero’ role the most…”

Attempting not to dwell upon who most would pronounce this season's villain, he averted his gaze.

“I just hope Alessandro is more open to listening now…” He trailed off.

—End Confessional—

Plopping onto the other log, Dan enfolded himself awkwardly. A light breeze passed between them, as neither uttered a syllable for moments on end. Both minds were too burdened to wish to broach anything themselves.

Eventually, however, the bookworm heaved a sigh. Scratching his beanie, he regarded the model apologetically.

“Look, before we talk about today's ceremony, can we quickly discuss the whole… dilemma that started last night?” He requested, too unsure to commence unprompted. Clasping his hands together, he sent an imploring look.

Peeking at that, Alessandro's face tightened. Inwardly, part of him yearned to cave in. To snappily restore their rocky bond. Dan had been the first to appreciate Alessandro beyond a superficial level in quite some time. And both stuck together throughout this entire competition. Why stop now?

That side almost triumphed. Almost…

Last night's cruel whiplash struck his ponderations. Whether or not those lingering emotions would persist long-term, it felt at least a tad too early to forgive and forget. Recalling a promise he made, his heart clenched. He… wasn't sure he'd manage to uphold his vow if they reconciled right now…

Ultimately, he shook his head.

“I'd rather discuss personal affairs after the vote…” Alessandro confessed, palms resting on his lap. “Speaking of, given Will's immune, the only option we have — assuming we stick together — is booting Fiore.”

“Y-yeah, right. I… understand…” Dan assured. Swallowing tears before they could prick at the rim of his orbs, he got up. Choosing to depart off his own volition would sting less than getting told to. “I'll… get going early, so you can have time alone…” He darted back the way he hailed from.

Eyeing his retreating back, Alessandro winced.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Massaging his temples, he sighed.

“No matter the outcome… at least things might be clearer after this ceremony…” He mentioned. Was that truly a positive, though?

—End Confessional—

___________

“Um… how did you get so messed up?” Will quizzed, inspecting Fiore's dirty clothing and tousled hair. Both bugged him since they regrouped twenty-minutes ago, setting off to find Dan.

Barring footfalls, their interaction lapsed into nothingness. They merely forged down that dirtpath like many times before, figuring the nerd probably headed there.

The brickhouse wondered if he overstepped, guilt seeping in. Taking into account what Brian Smith assigned him — as well as particular prior rounds — it might very well be a sore spot.

“I… I'm sorry…” He apologized. “I shouldn't have asked-”

“Nah, it's fine,” Fiore ultimately elected to respond. Pensively surveying the soil beneath them, she heaved a frazzled puff. “A duo of assholes I once had to call parents came to mock me. And even once I fulfilled my task, they withheld the remote. So, I got into a scuffle with them.”

“What?!”

Eyes dilating, Will stopped in his tracks. Crouching down, he squinted — discerning the bruise forming on Fiore's cheek. He berated himself over not noticing sooner. It baffled him, too. How could those two not only abandon their own daughter, but also come back just to ridicule and even physically assault her? It was…

“Those pieces of garbage…” He hissed, bewilderment giving way to unprecedented rage. “They're not gonna be allowed to get away with that, are they?!”

Springing back, Fiore took in his fierce expression, perplexed. Perhaps she wouldn't be befuddled if it came from Alec, but Will? Of course, she didn't anticipate him being thrilled. However, this confirmation that more people could care this much about her was… surprising.

“Geez, relax now.” She held up her hands to placate him. “I managed to kick their asses regardless,” she assured, a smirk passing her lips. However, her countenance crumpled a bit, pupils drifting aside. “Besides, I… don't think much more can be done, either way. Not like the staff at the orphanage will let me speak out against them, given their status. There's no point getting riled up over it.”

The currently not-so-gentle giant didn't let up, however, shaking his head vigorously. No way in hell were those monsters getting off scot-free. If anything, he now found himself shocked Fiore's prior mean-streak hadn't been even worse — with this revealed context.

“We can't just let it be swept under the rug,” Will asserted. “Look, if there's no other good option for you, I'll see about getting you off that place myself, okay?”

She snorted, embittered. “You think Ashley would approve?”

Inhaling profusely, the brickhouse simmered down. Even so, his face evinced conviction.

“Look… I won't pretend she has fully let go of her grudge,” he conceded, knowing twisting facts would only worsen affairs. Nevertheless, he proceeded. “But the stuff you've been going through at that place? She wouldn't want you to suffer longer, just because of pettiness.”

Quietening, Fiore deliberated over those words. Despite getting Alec as her pseudo-father, she… figured she'd languish in that accursed institution until she became of age — after which, she projected further hardship. Being offered a safety-net — from someone she never expected to get along with starting this season, no less — nearly left her speechless.

Several seconds passed, yet resolve never waned from the brickhouse's orbs. This wasn't a mere spur-of-the-moment statement that he immediately regretted. His stance remained firm. And he sought an answer.

Eventually, Fiore sighed.

“Can we discuss that after the game ends?” She requested. “I… need time to reflect.” A half-truth. She'd grown to appreciate Will over the course of this season. And gratitude rang within her at his offer. But… she still hoped a certain someone would take her in, instead…

Seeming to recognize that, Will nodded, standing upright. “Okay then… but know I'll be there for you, if needed.” He asserted.

“I… appreciate that,” Fiore thanked. However, she swiftly waved casually. “But let's not get too sappy now,” she teased, lightening the mood a smidge. “We're currently staying at Disventure Camp, not Therapy Camp.”

Footsteps interrupted their brightening exchange. Gazing ahead, they saw Dan approach, though he didn't seem thrilled to encounter them. In fact, his face tightened with sulkiness. Sparing not even a single word, he began bypassing them.

But Fiore seized her shot nonetheless, putting up a hand and calling out.

“Can we talk?”

Despite taking a couple more steps, Dan soon ceased walking. Fists clenched, he let out a deep exhale, turning around to face them.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I… didn't want to blow up on Alessandro, of course.” He commenced sincerely. “But to be frank… beyond just feeling like garbage, I've also been… so…”

He balled his fists, momentarily unable to articulate an answer.

“Frustrated with everything…” He blurted out. “At this point, I can't tell if I'm more unlucky or just constantly digging myself a deeper grave — or both. First, there was Ellie hounding me through the first half of this season. Then, Grett's attempted revenge arc…”

He gulped back a snarl.

“And then, when I make a move…” A nagging thought accused him of falsehood on his reasoning. “...I wreck things between Alessandro and I…” He averted his gaze. “I'm not in the mood to deal with the other two right now…”

—End Confessional—

“What?”

“Have you thought about my proposal?” Fiore questioned. “You know there's no way your friendship with Alessandro will recover before the finale, so why keep a massive threat around?”

“Fine, just quit bugging me,” Dan barked, startling both. He stalked off, evanescing into the distance.

“I… don't think he's being truthful…” Will conceded, stroking his forearm with a wince. “I think we just made him madder… What if this ends in a tiebreaker?”

Observing the placid canopy as she pondered, Fiore furrowed her brow. Though the point was well-intended, it did dampen her confidence somewhat.

With Will immune, she was their only available target. That nerd's morose demeanor meant he might have approached the model. Even with their bond tested, a truce exclusively to benefit their games wasn't far-fetched…

“Do you think targeting Dan may be worth it, in the event of a tiebreaker?” Will vocalized.

Debating the perks and drawbacks of such a plan, Fiore was split for a second. However, she shook her head, electing to take a gamble.

“So far, All-Stars has been the only season with a physical tiebreaker.” She reminded. “Our first time had nothing. In season two, it was entirely luck-based. Lastly, we had that trivia-oriented tiebreaker this season,” she listed.

“So, another tiebreaker is more likely to center around intelligence or knowledge,” Will followed along. In turn, Fiore snapped her fingers affirmatively.

“Precisely. Given Dan, despite seeming ready to lose it completely now, still seems more invested in the game than Alessandro — he could be more driven to win a tiebreaker,” Fiore rationalized. “So, that possibility alone makes allowing that model into the finale not worth it.”

Despite an odd urge to protest this, Will acquiesced. He went behind her back last round. Now more than ever, he wanted to prove she could count on him. It wasn't his place to dictate this.

“Fine…” He sighed.

Noticing his uncertainty, Fiore arched an eyebrow.

“You don't have to worry about me, you know?” Squinting ahead, she spotted a figure — doubtless Alessandro. Quickly, she whispered to Will. “Besides, we can always try splitting votes…” She backed away several steps, in hopes of preventing that approaching model from growing suspicious.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“The best part about getting in Alessandro's ear?” Setting her hands on her lap, she giggled. “We didn't need to lie. Just omit context.” Embracing herself, her face fell into something more serious. “If it works out, there will be no tiebreaker this noon. If not… well, I already managed to face two grown pieces of garbage today, so bring it on!”

—End Confessional—

___________

Sunlight glared down upon them. Combined with those flames lashing behind Brian Smith and Julia, it generated slightly uncomfortable heat. Both fronted the final four — the former grinning toward them, whereas the latter kept her eyes trained on him, suppressing a devious smirk.

Overlooking that, the host chortled, folding his arms. “This morning has certainly been a roller-coaster for you all, huh?” He prodded. “Especially coming off what happened last night…” He trained his orbs on a particular nerd.

Shuffling on his stump, Dan cocked his head to check on Alessandro — unable to stop himself from seeking solace from him. Yet, all that got him was a discomforted glance, before the model turned his head away. Wilting, he lowered his gaze.

Monitoring that exchange, Fiore smirked to her ally. Although he reciprocated, Will failed to stave off that pit in his stomach.

“Without further preamble, get voting!”

___________

Fingers drumming over a wooden surface, Alessandro pondered what to do.

“As if getting targeted by that creepy host today wasn't enough, now…” He trailed off, restraining himself so as not to break into tears. “I suppose I'll figure stuff out after this… but… who do I trust?”

Several moments elapsed.

“Hey, pretty boy!” Brian Smith called off-frame. “We don't have all day, and others still have to cast their vote.”

Clenching his quill, Alessandro tightened his expression, then went with his gut feeling.

___________

“Alright then…” Brian Smith smirked predatorily. Never a good sign. “I've counted the votes. For one of you, your fate has been sealed. Let's find out who that is-”

“Wait!” Alessandro interjected, jolting his three fellow campers. Attention converged upon him, as he sprung off his stump and unveiled his totem. “I want to play this…” Following a sharp inhale, he concluded, “...on myself.”

“Oh crap…” Will blurted, covering his face.

Folding her arms, Fiore narrowed her gaze, then addressed Dan. “Don't get too cocky,” she advised. “We may or may not have snitched to your ‘friend’ about you agreeing to vote against him.”

Paling, Dan whipped round to inspect Alessandro. The latter, however, remained quiet and didn't face the others — providing no hint as to what the outcome would be. Overhearing another giggle, the nerd snarled at the girl.

“I was stressed and didn't want you bastards bothering me! Go fuck yourselves, the both of you!” He glowered toward Fiore and Will, before zeroing in upon the former. “Even if I got a vote, it will tie. And I'll send you packing, you have my word!”

“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, buddy…” The host snickered, holding three parchments. “After all, from what I counted, there were… three votes against Alessandro — all nullified by his idol, of course.”

Before Dan could even process that declaration, Alessandro had already left his seat and set off back to camp.

“W-WHAT?!” He shouted when it registered. “How? I voted for Fiore!” He stamped his foot, enraged and desperate. “You made a mistake!”

Yawning, Brian Smith tossed those votes in the fire, impeding deeper inspection, shrugging. “Don't know what to tell you. Maybe you should just quit lying to yourself,” he mocked. “Better hope Alessandro made the mistake of keeping you in yet again~”

Flumping back onto his stump, Dan hyperventilated. How had everything spiraled so out of control? Yesterday morning, Alessandro was in his corner. They had defeated Grett. But now? Their friendship seemed as good as dead. And he might be going home…

What would he retain, if he departed now? The fandom would lambast him to new heights. It wouldn't astonish him if his performance here repelled those within his diminutive inner circle outside this show, too. He would be left with nothing.

Tears ran down his face, nails digging into timber.

Eventually, his agitation disturbed even Fiore, whose face fell. She… hadn't expected him to get this rattled. It was… unsettling almost. Maybe because she herself had snapped today, too. She exchanged uneasy looks with Will. Still, she looked forth, knowing it was either her or the nerd going this round…

Letting tension sink in, Brian Smith grinned. Though… he was starting to get a little nauseous. Shaking his head, he whipped out the sole surviving vote.

“The final person voted out of Disventure Camp:Old Scores To Settle is…”

He turned the parchment.

“Fiore! With a single vote!”

Once danger passed, Dan's self-restraint shattered. Burying his face in his hands, he bawled. Each wail bore erupting emotion he had bottled up. Reality — or his new perception of it, at least — crashed down upon him in one fell swoop. And his vision appeared too cloudy to distinguish any end to this dark, gloomy tunnel.

“Drama queen much?” Brian Smith tsked, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, will be fun seeing you get clowned on-” His stomach rumbled raucously. Immediately, fluid surged up his throat. Before his reflexes could deter it, vomit projected across the ground right before him.

Fiore and Will shrunk away, revolted.

Crossing her arms, Julia walked over.

“You should probably head back to the mess-hall to get that checked. You definitely won't be able to handle hosting the motel episode in that state.” Veiling her repugnance, she patted his shoulder. “Don't worry, though. I can fill in for you.”

Amidst his current predicament, exacerbated with Dan's incessant crying, Brian Smith lacked enough cognition to suspect anything.

“Funny, accompany Fiore on the bus of losers.” Barf jetted off his mouth again. Clutching his belly, the host staggered off.

“I… I'm so sorry…” Will sniffled, casting a sorrowful gaze down to Fiore. “You should've won immunity instead of me…”

Fiore exhaled.

“Don't be. That's the game.” A mirthless chuckle escaped her. “Guess this is what I get for even considering turning on you in the finale…” She confessed. Turning her head away, her orbs grew downcast. “I haven't really changed that much, have I?”

The brickhouse shook his head vehemently.

“Who cares about that?” He sniped that self-doubt. “I went behind your back, too. It'd be hypocritical of me to hold that against you. No matter what, we're friends now.” Pausing, he regarded her curiously. “Right?”

Struggling to keep her eyes from watering herself, Fiore nodded. “You're still a wimp, though,” she quipped, tone devoid of malice.

Their farewell drew to a close once Julia ambled over.

“I'm… sorry to interrupt, but we need to go,” she informed.

“Make sure you win!” Fiore entreated, eliciting a resolute nod. Inhaling sharply, she addressed the intern in a more hostile fashion. “Fine, we can go now.” Even so, she waved one last time, before the two evanesced from sight.

Standing there, Will's orbs drifted back to Dan, unsure whether intervening would improve or worsen his headspace.

___________

The minibus pulled up.

As both boarded it, Julia folded her arms. This was it. The opportunity to out her wretched superior in a manner he wouldn't manage to sweep under the rug. She glanced at the former contestant.

“This show was quite the experience, wasn't it?” Some bitterness slipped through her voice, yet her fellow passenger's mind was too preoccupied to dissect those undertones.

“For sure…” Fiore balled a fist against her heart, slight anxiety creeping in, despite — or maybe due to — everything. As the vehicle resumed motion, she prayed she hadn't disappointed a certain librarian too much…

Chapter Text

Diverging from tradition, this episode opened with Julia on the minibus. Impatience tinged her expression. Showmanship had never been her forte — nor did she even feel a penchant for it.

Without much else to occupy her, however, she went for it. Perhaps she would perform better than Brian Smith — sticking it to him on that level, too, would be cathartic.

“Last time, on Disventure Camp: Old Scores To Settle…”

Transitioning into footage from last episode, a noticeable shift from prior recaps emerged. In stark contrast to her shoddy set-up, the editing style on display exuded a much higher degree of professionalism.

“The final four were tasked with facing…” She coughed, sounding deadpan. “...what our ‘dear’ host insists were just intense trials.” Snippets lingering upon the blatant cruelty within each test flashed past.

Finally, it settled a previously unseen clip of Will throwing the metal lid open, and whipping out his remote to press its button.

“In the end, our resident hulk with a heart of gold won the challenge. Glad to see him overcoming that trauma.” A weary sigh followed this statement. “Even though it's kind of unfortunate Fiore didn't get it… given what she went through…” A faint hum came.

Multiple scenes surrounding other aspects passed.

“In terms of player dynamics, Alessandro was understandably miffed with Dan, following Blake's eviction. And Dan didn't help his own case, to be frank. Meanwhile, Fiore and Will's bond came full-circle — from holding grudges, to becoming good friends…”

A snapshot into that ceremony capped off this montage.

“In the end, Alessandro saved himself with a totem. With all three other votes purportedly stacked against him, the single vote cast by the model sent Fiore packing!” We returned to the minibus.

“No need to remind me.” The girl muttered, gazing out the window. This attracted the intern's attention and concern. In turn, she rolled her eyes, dismissing it with a handwave. “Just do your job…”

Reluctantly, Julia refocused on that, straining on a grin.

“With that, thirteen out of sixteen players have fallen. We are down to the final three — the end of the line.” She declared, restraining snide remarks regarding this show's host. She'd rather maintain a cool head until everything was set in order. “Before that grand finale, however, we're taking another detour to the motel.”

Arising, she set her hands on her hips.

“Interested in what those unable to reach the podium are up to? Find out here, on…”

Suppressing an eye-roll, she elevated both arms theatrically.

“DISVENTURE CAMP: OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!”

___________

Tyres rolled over asphalt. Since catching this ride half an hour ago, forestation had cluttered the view on either side. Nothing too stimulating, as expected. Without means of distraction, introspection grew inevitable.

Even so, Fiore observed the scenery for a while. A futile endeavor to evade ruminating over incoming reception once she stepped foot on that repository for non-finalists. Well… she worried about one man's perception, anyway.

Despite her increased confidence post-challenge, apprehension continued wracking her to a degree. Logic assured she didn't need to fret. However, emotions didn't obey rationale.

“How are you holding up?” Julia broke this admittedly uncomfortable silence. The intern had elected to remain afoot, braced against the side of one of the seats. Regardless, it didn't stir an inclination to talk.

“I got eliminated right before the finale.” She retorted curtly. “What do you think it's like?” Snark was her go-to method to veneer insecurities whenever those emerged. Would that require addressing later? Who knew? For now, she didn't care.

Tactful enough not to shake her head, Julia directed her gaze elsewhere. “Fair enough,” she grunted, grateful this drive neared its conclusion.

___________

Once doors slid open, mellow illumination streamed inside. This atmosphere would likely appear rather cozy, compared to the night hours marking other arrivals. To Fiore? It didn't change her failure.

Alighting from their transport, Fiore coaxed up her chin to survey the gateway into her temporary abode. In contrast to All-Stars, her stay here this season would be short — a mere night, instead of multiple weeks. Yet, seeing this place denoted her loss once more.

An indrawn breath was interrupted, as the intern deboarded behind her. Folding her arms, Fiore surmised she might as well get chores over with quickly. Thus, she wheeled around.

“This is the part where you must interview me, isn't it?” She groused. “Well… let's just get this over with.”

To her befuddlement, however, Julia tittered. Something about her tone rang fishy. A quality Fiore exuded often early into season one, as she plotted whilst maintaining an innocent facade.

“What's so funny?”

“Nothing…” The grown woman cleared her throat, handwaving whatever she harbored. “Don't worry about needing to answer anything, though. I have other matters to attend to. Can you handle yourself alone from here?”

Although weirded out, Fiore tsked at her ability to fend for herself getting questioned. Had this intern not paid a smidge of attention?

“Of course, I can, genius.” She scoffed, pointing to herself. “You think I would've survived this long otherwise? Please…” That despair-filled plea she gave Alec on his elimination looped inwardly. Her countenance tightened, yet she avoided further comment.

“Fair, it was stupid of me to ask,” Julia conceded, stooping to consider her with an oddly empathetic gaze. She released a remorseful puff. “Before I go, though… I'm sorry for how I addressed you after you woke up back in that horror challenge. Brian Smith is as vile a boss as he is a host, but I shouldn't have lashed out at you over that.”

Taken aback, Fiore blinked. “Um… apology accepted, I suppose.” She didn't possess the spite or pettiness to stay mad. That remark hadn't even crossed her mind, to be candid. After all, whatever the worker told her hadn't been harsh enough to stick. Though, inquisitiveness tinged her expression. “What exactly are you up to, though?”

“Can't elaborate. Just don't put too huge a spotlight on this.” Julia stated, straightening up. Noting a wary gleam within those youthful orbs, however, she folded her arms. “Let's just say…” She tacked on lowly, folding her arms. “If you dislike ‘dear’ Brian Smith, I think you'll get behind what's on my mind.” Watching the other's suspicion give way to intrigue, alongside light eagerness, her lips curved upward.

With that, they parted ways.

___________

Where do I even start? Fiore pondered, skirting down the main structure's side.

A cursory inspection of the front yard had yielded no sightings. A bummer. Finding someone instantly may have removed much awkwardness from this equation. Needing to scout for directions would give her anxiety time to build. Hopefully, something would take her mind off it somewhat here and there, though she doubted it.

Stepping into the rear side of the premises, however, she immediately got taken off her ruminations. Of course, not courtesy of some heartfelt welcome. Rather, a sharp collision stole her footing, and she thumped down over concrete with a pained yelp.

“What the hell?!” She groaned, head scorching upward. Her irked eyes caught none other than that affluent snob, who neither slowed down nor gave an apology. “Watch where you're going, you jackass!” She shouted, only to hear another rapid series of steps.

“Trust me…” Another familiar voice growled. Passing Fiore, Karol chased Nick, gaining on him with every second. “I'LL MAKE SURE TO GIVE THAT BITCH HIS JUST DESSERTS! THAT FUCKER'S MONEY WON'T SAVE HIM AFTER HIS REMARK!”

Sweat pooled across Nick's forehead, despite him repeatedly dabbing it with his handkerchief as he raced.

“Y-You bloodywanker, I-I didn't even lie.” He foolishly doubled down, even with fear screaming at him not to. “Your family must have been so poor — your parents refrained from using the name Karen, despite it fitting you so much, out of fear of copyright infringement. Also, vegan diets are trash, too-”

Unhinged screeching resounded across the area. Without missing a beat, Karol lunged forth, tackling him off his feet. Momentum sent both down, rolling together for a couple feet. Once done, she sat atop him, a hand on his throat, wielding a tofu-burger with the other.

“Y-You wouldn't dare!” Nick choked out, remaining haughty. “I… I have way more money than you, so you get your hands off me!” He ordered, failing to articulate an actual threat. Unfortunately for him, that had been his last chance. For the next several minutes, only muffled gagging came from him.

Struck immobile and speechless, Fiore watched, greatly unnerved.

—Confessional :Fiore—

She gurgled, repulsed.

“Okay… I must've missed a lot here.” She cringed. “What happened to encourage that middle-aged lady to develop a tendency to punish assholes by force-feeding…” Eyes widening upon lingering over that scene, she shook her head. “You know what? I'd rather not.”

—Confessional :Nick—

Hurling onto a bucket, he stared to the lens, barfing still dripping off his mouth. Presumably aware this was both unnecessary and revolting, he narrowed his eyes.

“Hey, you're the one who had that wretched excuse for a burger stuffed into your mouth! If I have to suffer, so do all of you!” He whined, throwing up his hand. “It's so fucking unfair. All I did was state what must have dwelled upon everyone else's mind, when combining Karol's name and attitude.”

Indignant, he carelessly flung that pail aside.

“And don't get me started on how repugnant-”

bang

“Ow!” Howled the very individual he bitched about. “WHO THE HELL THREW THAT?!”

Pigmentation seemed to vanish off his visage. Footfalls approached swiftly.

“Wait, Karol. T-that was an a-accident-!”

Just as another figure zoomed into frame, static overtook it.

—Confessional :Karol—

Five minutes passed since that previous confessional. Concluding Nick's last swirly, she tugged his head off the flushed toilet for good this time. Momentarily, his gasps and sobs served as music to her ears… until she got tired of them.

“Quit flapping your lips and fuck off, before I decide to continue,” she hissed, hurling him aside. The manchild, reduced to shivering like a reprimanded brat, scampered off-screen. “He butts into my business to diss my food, name, family and attitude, then has the gall to act like a victim. Pompous bastard…” She grumbled, holding a glare toward his fleeing back a while longer.

Simmering down at last, she turned to the camera. Lowering her gaze and evaluating her performance, she adopted a pensive expression.

“Assuming another shred of decency ever crosses those producers’ hearts, leading to me getting a well-deserved third chance…” She heaved a weary expulsion. “I… suppose it might be worth considering a slightly different approach…”

Catching herself, she frowned.

“Don't misinterpret my words — I won't let assholes walk all over me…” Trailing off, her countenance softened. “But I admit constantly riling others up didn't aid my game.” Pupils flicking in the direction Nick had booked it, however, she sneered. “That rich twat better not return, though, let alone be on the same team as me.”

—End Confessional—

Whipping her head away from that nonsense, Fiore faced a proffered hand. Filled with hope — blinding her to the specific hue of that extremity — she scorched her gaze up.

“Oh… it's you…” She mumbled. Disillusionment swept away the glimpse of optimism. What greeted her wasn't the librarian she simultaneously dreaded, yet longed to face.

“I'm guessing you hoped a certain other man was standing here instead, right?” That californian twang rang through her ears, reinforcing reality.

Nettled, Fiore huffed with an eye-roll. Even through her discontent, though, she almost let out a bitter giggle. Mistaking that surfer who spearheaded Alec's eviction for the librarian himself? Ironic to its core… She nearly considered smacking herself across her forehead.

“Perceptive as always, aren't we, surfer guy? Though, not enough to save you from heading home before me, huh?” Fiore snarked, her unannounced hostility taking him aback. She swatted his hand aside. “I don't need your help.”

“Geez… point taken…” Blake stood upright, backing away. Clearly, she demanded a decent berth. Beyond that, something doubtless bothered her. Though not his business, he couldn't resist attempting to prod further. “So… I'm guessing that ceremony stung?” He quizzed, wincing once he processed his own phrasing.

“It's not even that…” Fiore admitted, too agitated to rebuff his inquiry.

Glimpsing the intrigued glint in those prying eyes, she seethed. Did this asshole view her as some spectacle?! Hauling herself off the ground, she clenched her fists. Endeavoring to regain a cool front, she resorted to a classic technique — putting others down.

“Actually…” Despite quickly discovering turmoil had sapped even her delight in dishing out mockery, she proceeded with a forced sneer. “Dan, despite surviving elimination, was the one throwing a massive fit.” She revealed.

“Wait… he threw a what?” Blake quirked an eyebrow, astonished over her claim. Shortly, he squinted. “Are you trying to improve your mood by pulling my leg to worsen mine?” He figured her out.

Shoulders sagging, Fiore knew the jig was up.

“Fine… I was trying to divert from what's bothering me.” She hissed. “Though… I didn't exactly lie either.” Her defeated tone seemed believable enough to him, but he opted to focus on her issues first.

Crouching down so their gazes were level, Blake regarded her earnestly.

“While your actions never got anywhere near as reprehensible as what I did, take it from someone who avoided facing reality for a long, long time…” He heaved a remorseful sigh. “Keeping all that baggage within? It seems easier at the moment. But it keeps mounting every second. And eventually? You're holding it in, not for convenience, but because it's grown so much… you think releasing it will wreck your whole world…”

Expression increasingly scrunched, Fiore looked on the verge of snapping. However, adjourning her answer, she allowed her current state to sink in. Exhaustion. Not just physical. She flagged over years of rarely expressed emotion — aside from spite and malice, of course.

How many people did she open up to? Alec, and now Will? Perhaps one or two more, if stretching the definition. While she wisely refused to trust everyone else, she wondered. Would eschewing that misfortune-colored perception ease her stress?

Fatigued, she caved.

“I…” Articulation took a bit to come together. “Even though I know I shouldn't worry. Even though I should be sure Alec will accept me. What if… somehow, no matter how improbable, things go wrong?” She inquired. “What if I am too messed up?”

Sympathy tinting his facial features, Blake hummed. Too messed up. Too irredeemable. It evoked memories between him and Alessandro — their exchange at that beach, surveying placid waters as they rippled.

“Well, if Alec — for whatever reason — doesn't respond well to you, it wouldn't automatically mean you're hopeless,” Blake asserted. His divergence from attempting to dispel her concerns piqued Fiore's interest, leading to her listening intently. “Besides, Alec isn't the only person you've grown a bond with, is he?” He pointed out.

Oddly, him refraining from just passing over how that worst-case scenario would transpire improved Fiore's mood, to an extent. Of course, she prayed this outcome wouldn't come true. However, delving into it actually cushioned its bleakness — reminded her this hypothetical rejection no longer meant absolute loneliness.

“I guess you're right.” Despite concurring, she furrowed her eyebrow. “Why are you even trying to help, though? Didn't think you'd be all that friendly, given I made Dan turn on you and all.”

Averting his gaze, the surfer heaved a contrite breath, reflecting.

“It's how this game goes. Even though it shocked… in hindsight, I probably should have made more of an effort to interact with Dan. To him, it must've looked like I stole his brah, or something.”

Folding her arms, Fiore watched. Previously, she would let him wallow in self-blame. It wasn't her business, and their strife lingered within her. However, his words did uplift her…

“You shouldn't fault yourself over that too much. Either Dan just did it for strategy, or he was paranoid — maybe a mix.” She stated, fixing him with a firm gaze. “If he felt insecure regarding his bond with Alessandro, he should've sorted that out verbally. Maybe then, their friendship wouldn't have gone up in flames.”

Their friendship? In flames? Blake grimaced, displeased with how that sounded. Sure, he admonished Alessandro to refrain from risking his chance at success over those complicated feelings. But he never anticipated things spiraling even further. Despite swelling apprehension, he needed to uncover finer details.

“Could you elaborate? What happened after I left?” He inquired, sending her a pleading look.

Ejecting a profuse sigh, Fiore relented with a pointed nod.

“Alright… Here's the cliffsnotes version of what happened…”

Drawing a sharp intake to ready herself, she dumped all exposition at once.

“After you went, Alessandro wanted some time away from Dan, who got increasingly worried and paranoid. Meanwhile, I worked to get the latter to vote against Alessandro. I pointed out how they wouldn't have time to unpack, let alone solve, their issues before the finale, arguing the model's the biggest remaining threat — all that jazz.

Before the ceremony, I asked him about it again, and he blurted out a yes. Of course, Will and I figured it might be fake, so we told Alessandro about his friend agreeing to vote him off in hopes of splitting the votes, just in case. Come the ceremony, there were three votes against Alessandro — despite Dan insisting and wailing that he voted against me — but the guy had played an idol, sending me packing…”

As she panted from reciting everything in one go, Blake stared, wide-eyed. That… was a lot.

—Confessional :Blake—

Embracing himself, he hung his head in rumination.

“While I'm glad Alessandro kept his promise, hearing how strained his and Dan's friendship has grown…” Trailing off, he rubbed his elbow with a desolate puff. Soon, though, he scrunched up his face.

“Why would he vote against Alessandro, then burst into tears and claim he didn't? He can be ruthless, sure. But to that extent, and to someone he was close to? And the host isn't exactly the most honest…”

—End Confessional—

The surfer shook his head, addressing Fiore.

“Thanks for the update.” Humming, he scanned their surroundings. “As for Alec's whereabouts, to be honest, I'm not sure. I only approached him once upon arriving to apologize for getting so personal. We don't really interact much. But…” He pointed toward that outdoor flight of stairs leading to the second-floor balcony. “I know Grett usually hangs out with some friends around the stairs. She probably knows where he is.”

“Got it.” Before heading off, she couldn't curb a quip. “Hope sharing space with a certain couple again hasn't been too difficult.” She skipped off.

“Trust me, it's been chill,” Blake guffawed, waving. Although he proved no elaboration, whichever entity later edited this episode saw it to splice in footage from last night.

___________

Tranquil waters gleamed with moonlight. As had become habit over these past couple days, Jake remained on his sunchair a while longer. He listened to chirping crickets — that distinct lack of non-avian fauna not extending beyond Camp Tipiskaw itself, it seemed.

Late hours allotted him privacy to reminisce. About countless joys shared with Tom. Every time, however, his mind inevitably drifted to earlier, darker matters at some point.

How his and Blake's relationship unraveled all those years prior. And his response, following its bitter conclusion. He loathed that surfer. Either that or — throughout those months of extreme depression, whilst Tom ghosted him, leading into him almost… — he flip-flopped between harboring such spite toward Blake and himself. He'd mostly wiped that guy from memory after All-Stars, but sure as hell didn't wish to see him again. Throughout his run this season, his malice seemed warranted.

But upon getting to view rough cuts of some episodes? Those feelings had gradually shifted with each. That horror episode — just… what the hell was wrong with it, in general — had dredged up rather unpleasant recollections.

Jake knew not to get torn up over dismissing those incidents for years. In the end, both were blinded to the other's perspective. The more unfinished episodes came and went, the clearer it became. Perpetuating this resentment was… pointless. On both ends.

“I wonder if Tom's doing okay…” Jake mumbled, aware today's result would only be revealed tomorrow morning at the earliest. Just then, however, a pair of figures entered the pool area.

“Hey, babe.” The twink's heart nearly leapt off his chest as his dear husband's deep, goofy — yet no less sexy — tone caressed his ears. Indeed, none other than Tom himself trotted over, greeting him with outstretched arms and a broad, though sheepish grin. “Sorry I didn't manage to win…”

“Who cares about that? I'm just glad to see you again!”

Springing off his lounger, Jake dove into his spouse's embrace, throwing his own arms around him. Caught off-guard, Tom stumbled and yelped, but quickly recovered balance. Beaming, the himbo officer tightened his hold amorously, both nuzzling away — every unrelated matter sidelined from their cognition.

Deeming it best not to interrupt their merriment, Blake awkwardly stood a decent distance away. Orbs alighting on the building, an urge impelled him to head there. To avoid interaction entirely. However, he silenced that voice. Time to try and bury the hatchet, no backing out. No matter the result, it would serve as closure.

Recalling the surfer's presence, Tom patted his partner's shoulder, bringing their cuddle-fest to a close.

“Um… babe? There's someone else who got eliminated as well.” He apprised, directing his slim companion's focus toward that third party. “He has something he'd like to tell you.” Eyes constricting, he addressed the beach bum sternly. “Don't you?”

Flustered, Blake took some time to articulate his response. This looked so daunting, but he predicted that. Willing himself to tackle the elephant in the room, he folded his arms.

“I… I'm sorry about how things went down all those years ago…” He apologized.

“For?” Jake prodded, unable to go without ascertaining his ex-boyfriend's legitimacy.

Blake grappled with keeping his sight trained on his former lover. For so long, he equated admission to accepting sole blame for all that transpired. Tagging his own anguish as insignificant. Although he'd realized either assumption was unfounded, instinct stayed somewhat difficult to breach.

In spite of lingering tension, however, he steeled his conviction. He wanted to see this through. Swallowing that lump in his throat, he relented.

“For cheating on you, instead of breaking things off normally. I thought my own misery justified me hurting you, but it was horrible of me to do…” Eyes switching between the couple, he continued. “I'm glad you found someone who you're happy with, and wish you both well. I… just needed to get that off my chest, I suppose.”

Quiet enfolded them — several painful moments elapsing. Anxiety seeped into Blake. Had he made a grave mistake? Given someone with sufficient reason never to pardon his deeds ample ammunition to put him down with? Feet rooted in place, he awaited vitriol — relentless condemnation for what he did.

“I… Actually, I want to apologize as well…” Jake's voice snipped the surfer's nightmarish stupor, befuddling him. “Don't get me wrong. No way in hell was what you did right…” He clarified, to which an ashamed Blake nodded, scratching the back of his hair. Jake sighed, gaze downcast. “But I also caused you just as much torment, from your father…”

“Jake…” Blake let out softly, tearing up. But a hand was held to hush him.

“Neither of us wanted to admit we wronged the other, for so long. We just… well, doubled down. Didn't we?” Upon receiving a remorseful nod, Jake resumed. “Holding onto all this bitterness for so long was tiring, wasn't it?”

“It was…” Blake's heart clenched. Dozens of times, he'd second-guessed his mistakes, yet shoved those qualms aside due to a compulsion to view himself as right. “Every time my mind wandered into trying to picture your perspective, I… I forced myself to ignore it. Because I was afraid…” His breathing came out ragged. “Afraid that recognizing your point of view would-”

“Mean having to invalidate your own side of the story…” Jake finished, all too familiar with that mindset. “That's how I felt often, I admit.” He stretched a hand out. “Time to end that?”

Taking a second to inspect it, Blake grinned gratefully.

“Certainly. We may have never been fit for each other,” he mentioned, nodding to Tom. As though vanquishing an invisible encumbrance, he felt lighter now. “I understand we may never be able to be friends either. But I'm glad we can move on with our lives.”

Reciprocating that expression, Jake chuckled. “Same, farewell.”

“Likewise.”

Hands parting, Blake turned around and began heading out the pool zone. Reaching the steps leading off that area, he glanced over back one final time. Seeing those two carry on their lovefest, he smiled and looked ahead once more. Proceeding with his night, he never looked back.

Following so much hardship, neither party could complain about settling these scores peacefully.

___________

Knowing none of that, however, Fiore gagged upon coincidentally catching sight of that lovey-dovey duo together on a sun bed… wiggling eyebrows at one another. Deciding her mind had enough scars for a lifetime, she turned around so as not to see anything.

“I feel sorry for whoever walks in on them…” She muttered, stomach churning. Without dawdling, she rushed off to avoid overhearing any noise.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“A room…” She blurted, deadpan, shuddering over what those two were definitely doing right now — in broad daylight. “It's where people go when they wish to cosplay feral animals.”

—End Confessional—

About a minute following her departure, Nick jogged in. Jumpy and occasionally coughing whenever the term tofu-burger resurfaced, he checked over his shoulder, watching for that middle-aged hag.

“Phew, thank goodness…” He breathed out upon ascertaining she had desisted from pursuing him. Hearing others within the area, he turned to address them. “That lady was crazy, lads. I tell you-” The site facing him struck him quiet, cheeks flushing.

Tom and Jake, too entranced with each other, mindlessly partook in their mutual pleasure.

Despite Nick's posh nature urging him to wheel away from that scene with revulsion… he couldn't help but continue staring, slightly curious about the sensation.

—Confessional :Nick—

Clearing his throat, he lifted a finger.

“For the record, I was not deriving enjoyment from watching those peasants’ performance.” He asserted emphatically. “I was merely stupefied that they would stoop to engaging in such acts in public.”

Noticing his face flushing, he smacked himself.

—End Confessional—

___________

“Oh… great…” Fiore let out, scanning that flight of stairs. Indeed, Grett lounged there with some friends — acquaintances? Their identities? Ally, Tess and… Hunter.

Perhaps she should have expected that. Following Ellie's freak accident, she would definitely require a long stay at the hospital. Without many connections to fellow contestants, Grett would naturally gravitate to Ellie's friend — Tess. Which came with the artist's closest connections — Ally and Hunter.

Clenching her fists, Fiore breathed in and out.

“Let's hope he doesn't feel like getting petty again…” She mused, before approaching.

Guess who spotted her first?

“Eh, guess you've joined the fourth-placer club now, huh?” Hunter observed, quirking an eyebrow. “And you're the fourth one to do it, too! …Or would you be the fifth one…” He pondered, as there was no way of knowing how far along Carnival of Chaos was right now.

Rolling her eyes, Fiore pumped a fist, whooping sarcastically. “How delightful. Especially since I got idoled out, too.” She scoffed. “Look, if you're going to try and insult me over it, can you save it for later?”

Realizing she misconstrued his banter as derision, Hunter held up both hands. “Wow, wow, I'm not trying to ridicule you,” he chuckled apologetically. “Really, I was being immature throughout this season. Good job on making it so far.”

Ally nudged his arm. “Guess I no longer need to worry about your attitude getting conspiracy-theorists everywhere to claim my livestreams promote child-abuse.” She teased.

“Um… dear…” Tess’ voice chimed in, soft but amused. “Didn't you make children cry over using hacks years ago?” Her girlfriend blushed, flustered. “Given how insane people online can be, I fear that's already enough fuel for them to point fingers forever…”

“Damn it…” The gamer-girl scoffed, as both her partners chuckled. A fond smile crept onto her lips, nonetheless. Through it all, Grett sat farther from them — the clear odd-one-out.

Seizing her chance, Fiore traipsed up to her, arching an eyebrow. Despite wanting to just conclude her pursuit, she felt obligated to briefly inquire into her situation.

“So… I presume Ellie isn't doing the best still, right?” She broached that topic, evoking a wince from the romper-dress-wearing woman.

“From what Gabby told me over the phone, Ellie's condition has stabilized, but it will take her some time to recover…” Burying her face in her hands, she heaved a miserable breath. “Watching that rough cut of the episode… I… I can tell Dan was really just looking out for himself when he ran without warning her.”

Letting her hands drop to her lap, she clenched them. Her expression darkened with rancor.

“But still, the fact he barely shows remorse over that… it's unforgivable. Gabby is so devastated, and angry, too…”

Lowering her gaze, Fiore stayed silent, feeling it would be impudent to question her about Alec's whereabouts now. Fortunately, Grett seemed to pick up on what she had come for.

“If you're wondering where Alec is, he's probably sitting with Connor at one of the outdoor tables…” Following brief ponderation, she elected to keep details vague. “They're taking care of stuff, but are available if you wish to talk to them.”

“Thanks.” Fiore nodded. Bracing herself for what she had fidgeted over since boarding that minibus, she strode off.

Watching her go, Grett propped her chin in her head, gaze dropping as Ellie's state clung to her thoughts. She could practically feel Gabby hunching over the fashion-designer's bedside, distress suffusing her face. Even without being privy to doctor analysis, it was clear she would bear some cicatrices for the remainder of her life.

Noting this tribulation, Tess clasped her shoulder empathetically. Despite attempts to stave off such concerns, she worried for Ellie, too. Words weren't exchanged. Even so, Grett appreciated the petite gesture.

___________

Finally sighting that librarian again was surreal. For several moments, she watched him discuss matters she couldn't quite discern with Connor at that long wooden table, an open laptop fronting them. Briefly, she questioned her perception of reality.

Those nerdish glasses gleamed unmistakably, however.

Collecting herself, Fiore sidled over, crossing her arms and feigning nonchalance. Cracks cropped up without either even speaking, but she did her best to brush it off.

“Well… I fell short… again…” She huffed, trying to mask her self-doubt with annoyance.

Startled out of whatever he'd been invested in, Alec's eyes dilated as he saw her. He looked away, worrying her further. Though, truthfully, his own figure brimmed with apprehension — not too much unlike her own. Figuring they may require time alone, Connor grabbed the device and sauntered off.

“Don't undervalue yourself,” Alec stated, orbs returning to her once he gathered much needed courage. “You made it to the final four, and only lost because of an idol-play you couldn't have predicted.”

Soon, Fiore could maintain her facade.

“Still… I can't help but feel I disappointed you…”

Springing off the bench, Alec stooped down and gripped her shoulders — hold tight, yet mindful not to hurt her.

“If one of us has been a disappointment to the other… it's me…” The librarian asserted. “I… was a terrible, negligent father to Daniel, I admit. And that bridge has long since been burnt. But still… knowing what you're going through at that orphanage, I couldn't stand by and let it happen.”

Astonishment filled her.

“Did you…?”

He nodded, smiling humbly. “Connor has been assisting me through the adoption process since I have arrived. So… I can legally gain custody of you.” Slowing down, he regarded her with some anxiety. “As long as that's what you want.”

She didn't need a second.

“Of course, you dumbass!” Fiore yelled, embracing her newfound father, letting her emotions run rampant. Elated tears cascaded down her face.

The librarian wrapped his arms around her gently, reciprocating the gesture. His eyes watered as well. Although neither had found joy within their respective original families, both knew they had discovered what they missed for so long.

___________

Viewing this moment from afar, Connor beamed — glad his advice paid off.

“Can I request a favor?” A female sounded from behind him. Nearly dropping the laptop, the CEO whipped round, getting greeted by Julia.

“Um… sure. What do you need?” He quizzed, willing to assist, despite being weirded out.

Fingering the flashdrive within her pocket, Julia smirked. Determined to see her scheme through, she began elaborating.

___________

(Episode 13 — Extra Scene)

Counting the votes away from the final four, Brian Smith saw an even split between Alessandro and Fiore. Not for long…

“I tried giving that eye-candy an easy immunity win. If he misuses his totem and falls, that's his fault." He scoffed, crumpling one of the votes against Fiore into a ball and tossing it away.

Disregarding his slowly worsening nausea, he inserted a forged vote for Alessandro in its place, snickering.

Chapter Text

Leaves blustered against bark in the background. A rather fitting — calm before the storm — extra shot. This didn't last long.

Cutting to Tipiskaw's entrance, Brian Smith sprung up. Whatever food-poisoning he'd gotten had faded swiftly. Arms folded, he cracked a smirk. The last introduction segment for the season. To him, however, it just seemed like the cusp of his career. Sure, mistakes were made. But which sucker would out him? No one.

Nothing could dampen his mood. Even Julia's failure to return didn't faze him. He already planned on exploiting it to deprive that skank of payment, and hopefully send her onto the streets. A chortle nearly escaped him at the thought. However, focusing on the lens, he cleared his throat.

Although Julia's absence meant a lack of footage and information regarding the motel episode, Brian Smith didn't fret. As the finale, this episode deserved something to differentiate it.

“Around two weeks ago, we returned here, to Camp Tipiskaw, bringing sixteen players…”

Cut to footage from the premiere — showing both buses, each carrying one team of eight.

“Drama simmered — and, in some cases, boiled over — from the start.” Snippets of both Ellie teasing Dan, as well as Jake shouting and pointing aggressively to Blake, came. “And we watched it to escalate, develop and wrap up.”

Various momentous scenes and eliminations played. Finally, all sixteen names appeared on a list, before all but Dan, Alessandro and Will's got crossed out.

“Of those thirteen, we're now left with only our lucky — or unlucky, depending on how you interpret their stories — finalists. This is the finale, folks!” Brian Smith declared, the section switching back to him.

“Who will win? Watch, and find out, in the final episode of…”

Grinning wide, the host flung both arms upward, booming out.

“Disventure Camp…

OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!”

___________

Sniffling pervaded the campfire zone. Those flames faltered, almost extinguished. Mirroring Dan's energy. In spite of the sorrow within his heart, his lassitude disabled his tears.

A mere half hour passed since the ceremony. Both fellow finalists were long gone, leaving him to mope. Clutching his chest, he winced — heart throbbing so much, it looked ready to burst any moment now. His other hand clung to his temple. Another pang lashed his head, drawing a whimper. It ached so much.

Yet… deep down, he couldn't dispute how he had this coming, to a degree. Had he not exhausted all vigour within his system, he would've broken into another bout of unbridled wails. It anguished him to concede. But denial was futile.

How could he so brazenly disregard signs? He'd fragmented Alessandro's trust in him. And now, when he truly didn't backstab him, the model understandably perceived no reason to believe him. No use dwelling upon spilled milk…

With a snuffle, Dan picked himself up, swaying on his feet as he faced those dying flames.

“A-At least… I made it to the final three… I did it…” He self-soothed, endeavoring to scavenge a silver lining. Passing a hand across his cheeks, he found they had dried, their surface rather salty. The lump weighing on his throat stayed as heavy as prior, though.

Adjusting his beanie and smoothing his apparel as best he could, he drew in a charged, solemn intake. Pivoting around, he took in that trail he'd embarked upon each round. It marked both dread — when approaching this location — and relief — once time came to retread it, following successful survival.

Until last night, however, he'd never undertaken that journey alone this season — at least, as far as memory was concerned. He had… allies — a friend — by his side. Not anymore. He'd disposed of one ally — that, in hindsight, could have developed into another good buddy. Maybe divested himself of his existing — and best — friend, too.

Although sunlight showered the landscape, it felt darker than ever.

Whereas shame and unwillingness to face mistakes had induced his previous solitary stroll, he possessed no other option now. These were ramifications — consequences stemming from his misdeeds.

Taking one more deep breath, he willed himself to trek down the dirtpath. Face what he sowed.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I… messed up… royally…” He lamented again, only to realize his own repetition.

Countenance tightening, frustration flurried through him. Smacking a hand onto his forehead, he clenched the other.

“Ugh… why do I keep going in circles?” He snarled, gritting his teeth. “Almost every single time, I was troubled over something — moped or seethed over it.” Hand dropping off his face, he clasped both together, trembling with a jittery breath. “Then, whenever I dealt with a current issue… my methods created another.”

Lowering his head, introspection threatened to encroach. Tears rimmed his spectacled orbs. Catching himself, he wiped them away, shaking his head ardently.

“Can't take back what I did now…” He concluded, scratching the side of his toque. Still, something nagged him. Aware letting it pile on could prove detrimental tomorrow, he heaved a flagging puff. “For peace of mind, though… I've got to try talking one more time before the finale…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Rays shafted over camp lavishly, gleaming across verdant grass and barren soil. A cloudless tapestry overlooked this site. As was custom by now, however, this pleasant appearance belied our contestants’ headspace.

Mentioning them, neither had elected to depart or retire into a tent. Perhaps loneliness seemed even more unbearable than present discomfort. Who knew? No matter the reason, they lounged opposite one another — dwindled numbers affording each an entire log.

Commodities such as extra room, however, did nothing to inspire optimism within a certain model. Greyish-green orbs musing on cinders, Alessandro heaved an impoverished sigh. His looks? As gorgeous as always. Yet, his heart contracted agonizingly now and again.

Should he have forgiven Dan already? His emotional side screamed with affirmation. But that betrayal gnawed at him, too. At this point, allocating Dan instant absolution felt similar to invalidating his own distress. This duality waged conflict across his head, exacerbating his agitation.

Drumming his fingers over wood in a fruitless effort to cool down, he jittered…

Although not privy to the model's innermost entropy, a brickhouse eyed his quaking figure with consternation.

—Confessional :Will—

“Fiore's departure is a bummer, especially right before the finale…” Shaking his head, a fond chuckle escaped him. Connections could doubtless shift drastically — in ways sometimes deemed ludicrous. And he harbored no complaints for this particular case. “But I'm not backing down. I already wanted to give it my all for Ashley. But now? I'm looking to uphold that promise I made, too.”

Joyous rumination washed away, however, as topical subjects surfaced.

“Still…” His expression turned slightly grim. “It wouldn't feel right to just leave Alessandro on his own.” He folded his arms. “He may be silent, but what happened and his posture tell me all I need to know…”

—End Confessional—

Pondering how to commence, Will eventually settled on simplicity. There wasn't much to work off — they barely interacted throughout the season — but he hoped showcasing an inclination to listen would prompt Alessandro to open up.

“So… how are you holding up?” The brickhouse inquired.

Fingers slowing, Alessandro blinked. Amidst his wretched spell, he hadn't expected someone to reach out. Therefore, he failed to conjure a timely response. He tapped his index on the log, torn on whether or not to even bother.

How many conversations did they hold prior? Despite belonging on the same alliance for the first couple merge rounds, he couldn't recollect any one-on-one canvasses. To be frank, he barely remembered even interacting with him while amongst others. This close to the end, should he really open up? Smack-dab in the middle of his dilemma regarding Dan, no less?

Seeming to apprehend his thought-process to a degree, Will's expression softened further.

“I understand, if you feel uncomfortable sharing it with me.” Elevating himself from his log, he maintained a tender tone as neared the model. Searching his face for consent — which eventually arrived through a nod — he clasped his shoulder. “But… as someone who felt completely out of my field when first returning here, I know feeling alone is awful. Though I may not know how you feel, I… want to leave the door open, in case you need someone to hear you out.”

Despite aforementioned reservations, Alessandro appreciated this gesture. Adding to that, Blake had grown to value Will by the end of his run — the model recalled. Combined, these factors made him just comfortable enough to take this offer.

Drawing a deep breath as the brickhouse took a seat beside him, Alessandro observed his lap, dwelling on recent happenings. Where to even start? But, as he reflected, it turned out rather obvious. Perhaps this preconceived messiness was but a illusory roadblock, imposed to dissuade him from digging deeper.

Whatever the case, he commenced.

“I've… always had a problem finding people genuinely interested in me…” He breathed out, staring ahead through lidded eyes. “I can get a decent amount to flock my way, if I want…” Enfolding himself, he bowed his head. “But… those crowds don't care what's within, only for my body…”

Commiserating with him, Will draped an apologetic arm over his shoulder, comforting him without words.

“Dan… and, eventually, Blake…” The model resumed speaking. “They are the first people I have gotten close to in a while, who truly appreciate me for me, you know?” A bashful flush permeated his cheeks. “For a while, I… even developed feelings for Dan…”

The brickhouse's mouth opened lightly with befuddlement. He hadn't anticipated him to be that attached. That confession of romantic feelings disconcerted him slightly.

“Um…” Will stammered. “Isn't Dan… you know?”

Chagrin tinged Alessandro's expression, as he nodded in turn. Averting his gaze, he sighed.

“Yeah, I… wasn't thinking right…” He admitted. Looking back to the gentle giant, he smiled sheepishly. “But, I've gotten over those emotions. I mean, Dan is still important to me, but I think I fell in love more with the idea of having someone who enjoys my company beyond my looks…”

“What is he to you, then?” Will queried.

Eyes scorching up to the sky, Alessandro clamped both hands over his heart.

“My best friend…” He confessed. Moments later, his head lolled down. Affirming that exacerbated his shame over finding himself unable to resume usual interaction. But he couldn't help it. He wanted his feelings to be valid. Was that self-serving? “Am I… selfish for needing time to get my thoughts in order before I can face him properly?”

The brickhouse's mouth fell open, struck silent over that question. It hadn't crossed his mind that Alessandro might fault himself to any capacity. Well… he may have been an enabler, to a degree. However, him seemingly feeling obligated to forgive Dan so effortlessly would feed into that.

Assumptions bubbled within the model through this hushed interim.

“I really am an asshole, right?” He deprecated, stroking his temples. Abject guilt swirled through him, as he reflected. “I approached him first…” He reminisced. “I sought an alliance, and eventual friendship, with him. Once that Ellie fiasco happened, I assured him it wasn't his fault. And yet…” Inspecting his palms, he curled them with a burdened mind. “When he went behind my back to take out Blake, someone I got close to, I… just couldn't handle it. Then, the voting situation this last round…”

“It's not wrong for you to feel wronged…” Will insisted, gears turning. Diverting his orbs, he bit his bottom lip. Should he apprise him of Dan's emotional feedback? Those waterfalls he shed? Extra ponderation led him to refrain from such. He deemed it judicious not to fuel that remorse further.

“But… am I not being self-centered? Only taking issue once it hurts me personally?” Alessandro expressed, arching over. “I mean, I stood by him all this time, after all.” Blinking at the ashes, he sighed despondently. “I… do want to stay friends with him,” he concluded. “But I just…” Trailing off, he grappled with articulating those discombobulated particles floating inside his head.

“You can't put it exactly into words, can you?” Will inferred, evoking a nod. “Please, don't take this as me claiming I know what's best, but if you'd like some advice, I think you shouldn't feel pressured to rush reconciliation.”

Processing those words, Alessandro hung his head. Looking aside, he winced, indrawn.

“Even if you have a point… I can't help it.” Uttering that admission, his heart clenched tighter. “I can't stop thinking about how Dan might feel. Would it be fair to later reach out after avoiding him?”

Hauling himself off that billet, Will turned and extended a helping hand to the model. He plastered on a serene smile to comfort him.

“You can let Dan know you need space, but want to hang out again down the line.” He proposed. “That way, you get the time you need, without leaving him in the dark.”

Assessing that suggestion, Alessandro eventually grinned back slightly. That… seemed a fitting solution. It would allot him that brief period of distance he honestly required, whilst averting that dread he so feared.

Taking said hand, he let the brickhouse pull him onto his feet.

“That sounds like a good idea, honestly….” He murmured, indebted. Sizing him up, he sighed with contrition. “Even if we didn't interact much throughout the season, thanks for being here for me. Blake's lucky to have befriended you.”

Though engaged and never wavering in his loyalty to Ashley, crimson spread across Will's cheeks at that compliment. He never nursed attraction toward fellow men beforehand. Regardless, he couldn't pretend the obviously delectable model wasn't, well, hot.

Raking his fingers through the back of his hair with a flustered chuckle, he handwaved the praise.

“Oh… it's nothing, man.” He assured, before light agitation settled and he folded his arms. Regaining composure, he proceeded. “I've just been blessed with help from many others since joining this show — both off it, like after moving in with Ashley, and even from friends I've made this very season. I feel like it's only right that I repay the good fortune somehow, you know?”

A velvety titter rang over this campsite, as both parties retook their seats, sharing one log, despite another's presence.

“I would say you have reimbursed it all, and then some.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Despite an encumbered headspace, he managed a petite smile.

“I… kind of wish Blake, Dan and I put more effort into making Will feel included in our alliance before he and Fiore defected. Not just for the game. With how tied up in my own conflict I got, I probably wouldn't have reached a resolution on my own…”

Moving onto peculiar affairs, his face fell, yet remained hopeful.

“I'll follow those tips concerning Dan. I… need space, but I do want us to continue being friends once all's said and done.” He drew in a sharp intake. “Let's hope I convey that well enough…”

—End Confessional—

Shortly following their exchange, footfalls wafted off that woodland encompassing them.

Knowing whose arrival those heralded, Alessandro pressed a palm to his chest. Even with every assurance, it disquieted him. Maybe this sensation appeared preposterous. After all, he'd vocalized a desire for space a couple times before. What distinguished this upcoming instance from those? He couldn't seize an explanation, but he felt it nonetheless.

Almost descending into those qualms, a hand patted his shoulder, extricating him from that spiral. Orbs drawn sideways, an inspirational gaze greeted them, alongside an encouraging smile. Though the brickhouse didn't speak, he doubtless mouthed, “You can do this.”

Soothed, Alessandro motioned toward that dirtpath with his head, transmitting his want to handle this alone. Not just for the sake of who neared their location, but his own, too. He'd rather not risk developing reliance on others… presuming that hadn't transpired already.

Understanding his intent, Will nodded, motivating one final time with a thumbs-up. That done, the brickhouse trotted off, passing a dour figure as he crossed into that trail.

Inhaling and exhaling profusely, Alessandro steeled his resolve. Tilting his head up, his gaze interlocked with his best friend's.

—Confessional :Dan—

“This was it…” He mumbled, discomfitted.

Shifting in that stump, he propped his head in his palm, letting loose a resigned breath.

“I just need to make sure my head's in the game going into the finale. It took a lot to get here. And I can't do it while holding lingering doubts. So…” He swallowed. “I'll have to accept his verdict, no matter what that is…”

—End Confessional—

Drawing a hand across his luscious hair, Alessandro maintained composure as they engaged — opting to initiate discussion.

“Is this about the vote?” He conjectured, keeping his tone level.

Curling his fists, Dan deliberated on that. Ultimately, though, he refrained from pleading vote rigging. At this point, what good would that do? Even if he was being truthful, proof eluded him. Insistence would just repel the model further.

“No… it's not like you'd believe me, even if I told the truth…” He muttered, astonishing him. Catching himself, he ran a hand down his face, sighing. “I'm sorry. Just… haven't been coping too well.”

“Right.” Alessandro's voice came out unsure. Their connection had been plunged into such tumult, ascertaining what to make of the geek's words looked hardly possible. “I suppose, after what's happened, I'd rather not focus too much on that now, either…”

Both eyed that vast, cloudless expanse overhead — a whole minute zooming past. Two friends, once preferring to hang out with just one another, now lingered there — unable to partake in banter.

Finally, Dan exhaled.

“Alessandro…” Following momentary hesitation, he went on. “Where do we stand currently?”

Stares intertwined, Alessandro mustered the will to articulate himself somewhat.

“Like I said prior, I need a bit more time. I mean that.” He stated, before growing a heartfelt gleam across his orbs. “But… that will end soon, okay?”

By then, Dan's eyes had glazed over, lost in surmise. Resurfacing off his stupor, he bobbed his head emphatically, feigning acceptance. Behind his back, both fists clenched, as he repressed tremors.

“I… understand.” Averting his gaze, he strained his expression into stillness. Any motion beyond mouth-movement risked inducing an unbridled breakdown. Needing to check potential tears troubled him enough as was. “After what I did, it's only fair. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts before the finale starts, though. I… will quit bothering you now. See you tomorrow.”

Overlooking Alessandro's concerned mug, Dan turned tail, padding the way he hailed.

—Confessional :Dan—

Screening his face, he grappled with gathering himself. Perhaps his perception had gotten warped and misconstrued innocuous denotation, or — he feared — he hypothesized that to avoid facing that devastating eventuality…

Was their friendship splintered past salvation?

Flumping his arms down, Dan sucked in a sharp intake. Quelling those merciless pangs assailing his heart, he exhaled. Donning a grave expression, he adjusted his glasses.

“Well… I'm not backpedaling on what I said earlier. I've got my answer — no matter what it may mean. From this moment on, until the game is over, I'll focus on it entirely.” He vowed.

—End Confessional—

Evanescing from Alessandro's line of sight, Dan's trot morphed into a stomp.

Shoes scuffed against ground, radiating unexpressed entropy. A flurrying mesh of regrets and pointless grudges toward long gone competitors, topped with countless amorphous wisps. They buffeted his mind relentlessly.

Hands balling tighter, both soon grew sore. Unfortunately, uncoiling them even an inch wasn't viable. How else would he evade that crashout threatening to overtake him? Why did these feelings cling to him, anyway? His actions led to this.

Just focus on what you can salvage from this yet. Dan berated himself, endeavoring to fixate on the prize. What purpose did he wish to apportion that cash toward? He couldn't recall — assuming he ever had one to start with. Yet, netting that million-dollar cheque meant not departing empty-handed.

Imagine letting virulence spoil even this potential silver lining? It would not only devastate him, but leave him defenseless with his newfound infamy. Those initial, vitriolic waves he faced following season one? He shuddered, anticipating much worse to bombard his socials.

“I can't let it all be for nothing…” He muttered, hastening. Amidst his rambling and rapid steps, he didn't notice someone trailing him. Halting, he hyperventilated. “All the bullshit I'll have to deal with — i-it… can't be all for nothing!”

“Dan?”

Starting upon getting tugged into reality, Dan whirled round. In his muddled headspace, he'd forgotten contestants other than Alessandro existed. Self-preservation instincts prompted him to back away, as cognition lagged in registering information captured via sight.

“I saw you begin to… freak out…” The figure, which the bookworm soon verified was a particular brickhouse, drew nearer — a hand resting against the rear of his skull. “I don't want to come off as nosy, but it's too much for me to continue staying silent.”

Shrugging off mental cobwebs, Dan blankly stared at him. Inwardly, he subjected those claims to scrutiny. Since when did Will — who defected alongside Fiore, and even went along with Grett's scheme to exaggerate his culpability regarding that Ellie incident — give him the time of day?

Presumptions skittered throughout his biased mind. Arms crossed, Dan squinted. This coward doubtless attained a few deceitful tendencies. Hanging out with Fiore provided a plethora to assimilate. Well, the steroid-satured behemoth fumbled upon choosing to target him.

“I'd advise you not to bother using that faux concern on me.” He hissed through gritted teeth, startling Will. That reaction elicited an eye-roll. Would he just drop that facade already? “You thought, just because I feel like shit, I wouldn't sniff out what you're trying to pull? Well, you made a mistake, buddy.”

“What do you even mean?” Will let out, flabbergasted. Personal interaction revealed such animosity, so soon, it nearly struck him speechless. And bewildered. Hadn't Alessandro made his stance clear. “I'm just worried. I… know I didn't mention it for a long while. But these past few days, you've gotten more and more-”

“More what?!” Dan barked, stamping a foot to intimidate him.

Though taken aback, Will's developing courage allowed him to stand his ground. Clenching his fists, he plastered on a firm, yet well-intended face.

“Erratic. Unstable. Just… generally miserable, too…” The brickhouse argued. With how far this escalated, he found bluntness necessary. “What's going on with you?”

“Oh, I'm doing great!” He snapped, splaying both arms. Expression contorting with unrelenting ire — how much wasn't secretly self-aimed, though? — he grinned sardonically. “Why wouldn't I? I've had the pleasure of playing with ‘wonderful’ people such as Ellie and Grett! What to gripe about there?!”

Flinching, Will gauged him, wide-eyed. His demeanor had degenerated at an appalling rate. A… growing pattern. Although such moral decay wasn't new to this show, witnessing it first-hand added to its disturbing factor. Not just that, though. On a personal level, beholding this shift discomforted the brickhouse.

Why? They hadn't interacted too much. Their main — potentially single — one-on-one exchange occurred right after that virtual horror-fest… the first one. Nothing too touching, anyway. Just Dan vanquishing his qualms concerning the vote…

Oh…

Blinking, Will recollected the last point of that pitch. Piecing it all together, the picture came clear.

“What has gotten you so silent now?” Dan pressed, even that derisive facsimile of a smile proving too difficult to maintain. “Finally realizing I have no reason to trust you?” Averting his gaze, he huffed. “What could even make you genuinely care, at all?”

Ejecting a slow current, Will regarded him somberly.

“Remember our conversation, back when I showed hesitation at your plan to target Tess?” He reminded earnestly. Once greeted with a furrowed brow, he raised a finger and elaborated. “Before you left, you claimed we both had something in common. How we failed our first time, and this was our chance to prove ourselves…”

Springing backward, Dan shook his head, almost paralyzed with shock. He… hadn't expected anyone to dredge that up. Scrambling for counters, he retook that frigid posture, though plainly shaken.

“You are desperate, aren't you?” He chastised, projecting onto him. “Despite recalling that, you forget how, at the final seven, I literally confirmed all I told you about Hunter and Tess was to ensure you'd vote the latter off-”

“You didn't leave it at that, though,” Will interrupted, recalling an ancillary remark. “You insisted you believed those claims, anyway. But the device detected no lies.”

Depleting all excuses, Dan clammed up, fists compacting. Every argument he posited got dissected. Amidst his present mental trouble, he came up with nothing more — if such might have existed. Instead, he trembled, eyes narrowed, refusing to demonstrate vulnerability.

Regardless, the brickhouse endeavored to break through to him.

“Since those opinions were honest, I'm not buying that the comparison between us wasn't.” He approached, starting to pour his own feelings out. “To be frank, that's one reason I care so much...” Ceasing movement with a mere foot between them, a pregnant pause enveloped both.

Though rattled over those appeals, Dan coiled his upper limbs tighter around himself. He messed up enough. No more lapses. However tough it may be, others wouldn't fool him again. With a humph, he jerked his head away, lips sealed.

Recognizing his stance, disappointment infused Will's gaze. He… had hoped they could commiserate. Deep down, intuition asserted Dan dealt with hurdles similar to those assailing him initially — out of his depth, insecure. Probably to an even greater degree, if mannerisms indicated anything.

Undeterred with this lack of discernible progress, Will tried relating to the twiggy geek again.

“I got booted first last time, remember?” He mentioned, no longer ashamed to bring it up. “Hell, unlike you, I wasn't even meant to be here. Only got the spot due to Ashley getting to pick a replacement. I've been where you've been, but this?”

Emphasizing those last words, he gestured over Dan's withdrawn, unstrusting form. Disregarding the subsequent scowl, he went on.

“It's not healthy. I… Maybe I'm acting hypocritical, in some way. But it's just how I see it. And… you don't even look to be getting anything good from it…” Will confessed, before innocuously moving to grasp his shoulder.

Smack

Retracting his swatted hand, Will winced. It barely hurt, but marked his foundering. Focusing on his fellow contestant, a taut sneer faced him. Though, he didn't miss its occasional twitching. Nor the droplets rimming those sockets.

“We are not alike…” Dan hissed, his cracking voice aggravating him further. Jabbing a finger forth to punctuate each statement, his stature heaved uncontrollably. “You crashed and burned, even got manhandled by a six-year-old, in episode two.”

Arching an eyebrow, Will attempted to placate, “I'm not denying that-”

“Let me finish!” Dan cut off, eyes wild and erratic. As though seconds away from breaking. Into a rampage? Into tears? Both appeared equally plausible. “You fared worse than me in every conceivable way, yet don't get nearly as much shit as I do!” He raved, spurting spittle.

Unmoving, Will spectated, perturbation welling within. Given this current display, however, it was obvious arguing would rile him up even more. Folding both arms, he stared back, awaiting an end to this rant.

It arrived sooner than expected. Though no less enraged, the spectacled competitor suddenly clenched his teeth, fists curling. Processing his own outburst, he whipped around.

“You know what? I'm not giving you more ammunition to mess with me.” Without dawdling, he flounced along the beaten path — that declaration ringing in his wake.

Watching that figure grow blurrier down the trail, myriad thoughts gusted across Will's mind. Many less than stellar. Desolation slotted into place, prompting him to sigh. Exhausting all reasonable options, he gave up, turning to return to camp.

—Confessional :Will—

Defeated, he exhaled, palms on his cargo shorts.

“I… did all I could…” He concluded. “This is out of my hands now. I'm not sure what's gotten Dan to this point. I just hope he doesn't let it ruin him completely…”

—Confessional :Dan—

Taking off his toque, he crumpled it to blow steam. A snarl etched into his face. Yet, tears threatened to spill any second now.

“What does that brute know?” He grumbled. “His debut was a thousand times more pathetic than mine. But he never got labeled a nothing-burger, or a waste of oxygen for ‘discriminating against the yuri’ — whatever the hell that meant!”

Tossing his garment off-camera, what hint of logic clung on berated him over behaving so petulantly. No matter how hard he tried, however, self-control seemed impossible to regain. Itching to empty his lungs on someone, yet equally as disposed to bawl himself dry, he lost it.

Plonking his face onto his hands, he screeched as static washed over.

—End Confessional—

___________

Stepping into camp grounds, Will surveyed his fellow contender, torn. How much should he reveal? Should he even speak up? Mind made up, he traipsed over.

Overhearing his footfalls, Alessandro cocked his head toward him. Despite a worrying conclusion to his and Dan's exchange, he teemed with gratitude. Noticing that somber countenance, however, his own fell.

“What's wrong?”

Collecting himself with a deep breath, Will stroked his temple.

“Well, as Dan left, I checked on him. And…”

—Confessional :Will—

“I couldn't keep him completely in the dark. But… I didn't want to risk him rushing to talk to Dan.”

Crossing his arms, he regarded the lens sternly. Would this garner criticism? Perhaps. However, he'd sooner plunge his reputation under slight fire than consciously allow things to deteriorate.

“Call it selfish, if you want. Given Dan's response earlier, he can't handle interaction right now. Imagine how disastrous him exploding on Alessandro would be.” Shaking that vision off his mind, he resumed. “So, I omitted Dan's outburst, just said he didn't want to talk, and might have misinterpreted some stuff…”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Shuffling within his stump, he lowered his gaze, crestfallen. Following this whole heartache, he'd looked forward to a break…

“Dan's really hurting more than he let on…” He sighed, pupils drifting aside. “Hopefully, he's not too upset…”

—End Confessional—

Zooming toward that expanse overhead, a timelapse flashed past. Crisp azure morphed into warm orange, over which purple encroached — as that fiery sphere sank delicately beneath the horizon.

___________

“Um… Will?” Alessandro interjected, both observing the crackling flames they ignited minutes prior. Fingers drummed across coarse wood, eyes surveying a certain trail.

Sensing important affairs from that tone, Will quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

Gazing aside in ponderation, he massaged his elbow. Just entertaining this concept seemed silly. But… following today's tumultuous barrage, he needed company.

“Can we sleep inside the same tent tonight?” He requested. “I don't think I'll manage to sleep soundly on my own as of now…” Another ashamed air ejection succeeded this avowal. “I'm sorry. It probably sounds stupid…”

Rising off his billet, Will rounded their healthy firepit. Clasping the model's shoulder, he provided an assuring expression to mollify him.

“No worries, I'll stay with you.” He obliged.

Beaming with appreciation, Alessandro's eyes twinkled. It didn't last, though. As though compelled via a gravitational center, they glided to their prior cynosure. Memories deluged him anew. Wistfulness brushed his facial features, muting brief contentment.

Beholding this shift, Will's own expression fell — sympathy swamping him. Remorse mounted, especially knowing he downplayed Dan's agitation. Shaking his head, he focused on the man before him.

“I… guess Dan's still cooling off, huh?” The brickhouse remarked, proffering an opportunity for discourse.

“Can… we leave the tent open?” Alessandro entreated, eyes wide with imploration. “Given what you said, I don't want him to feel more alienated…” He conceded.

Scanning that vehement expression, the brickhouse granted this entreaty without second-guessing.

___________

Stars hung overhead — redolent of fizzling beacons stranded across a murk-coated ocean. Of course, hiking down woodland, foliage nearly obstructed this entire view. And yet, what sliver peeked through stayed no less enthralling.

Unlike most, however, Dan found it extremely discomforting. Like extra baggage heaping atop his laden mind. Those twinkles resembled joyous moments. Unfortunately, another commonality was their insignificance. Mere shimmers, floating fruitlessly in a barren, hopeless sea — that unavoidable, lonely bed he'd installed for himself.

Sluggish and barely running. Spending hours on his own, lashing out, his reserves dried wholly. It took tremendous effort not to yield and collapse with each step. Emotionally, it felt like a walk of shame.

Deserved? Perhaps. Nonetheless, he mourned wholesome times his foolishness — or selfishness — cost him.

Wanting to avoid dwelling upon it, he went to tug his beanie over his vision. Lamentably, his hands solely gripped naked strands. Stopping momentarily, he pawed at his scalp. Where did he…

Oh…

Upper limbs falling slack against his sides, his head drooped. The fact had eluded him briefly. After hurling that toque away in a rageful fit, all searching drew a blank.

—Confessional :Dan—

Contrasting that previous rant, he slouched miserably. His face looked… hollow. He'd exhausted himself, for today at least. What would he gain, getting mad? With nothing to channel that into, the answer rang clear — nothing.

“I almost chose to sleep outside.” Raking a hand through his tousled hair, he expelled worn air. “But tomorrow isn't a normal round. It's the finale. I'll already be disadvantaged, provided anything too physical crops up.”

Staring into space, reality — or his distorted version, anyway — echoed within. Either he pulled this off, or all would indubitably have served no purpose.

“I… I can't stop lingering on what-ifs, but I must. Once the sun rises, I need to be ready to give it my all, and more. Otherwise, I… really just… accomplished nothing…”

—End Confessional—

Crossing into camp, frigid wind belted his face. As though he didn't already feel like an interloper. A self-pitying breath escaped him.

Eyeing that gradually ebbing campfire, his orbs slunk to the tent he, Alessandro and Blake shared since the merge commenced. Nostalgia welled inwardly, pounding harder once he noted it was left open. Just dozing near the model wouldn't hurt, right?

Edging over, he crouched and peeped inside, only to rue his decision. Watching that brickhouse slumber near the best friend he ever had… it dashed all hope. So much so, he missed how his own sleeping bag had gotten tidied up.

Too frazzled to emote, he zipped it shut. Standing upright, he reeled to the unoccupied tent to rest. Fruitlessly praying to forget what he uncovered.

___________

“Rise and shine, final three!” Loudspeakers emitted throughout their campsite, disrupting slumber. A basket loaded with sandwiches and varied fruit rested on each downed bole — sunlight refracting off rinds, peels and zip-bags. “To reward your resilience, we've supplied some proper breakfast…”

Though unnecessary, Brian Smith dropped this brief facade, snickering.

“Trust me, you guys will need it… You have forty-five minutes to get ready and report to the clearing one last time!” Noise bursting through afterward, connection cut.

___________

Fluttering, eyelids parted to unveil greyish-green orbs. Muted illumination made shaking off those cobwebs a slight chore. Upon accomplishing it, he processed that detail.

Paying more mind to his surroundings, he arched an eyebrow. Why wasn't vibrant light streaming inside? His gaze rocketed to the zipper. Drawn up. It bemused him further.

A yawn snipped Alessandro's bewilderment, drawing his focus to Will. Sitting up, he noted the model's ado.

“Um… what's wrong?” He queried, kneading his bleary eyes. Like his sleeping buddy, lower than expected light levels protracted this procedure somewhat. Gaining full awareness, he looked at the entry. “Did you or Dan shut it during the night?”

Dan… That mention prompted Alessandro to comb the interior with studious orbs, longing to alight upon his best friend, even with their distance. His optimism plummeted, though, as this swift expedition showed that empty sleeping bag hadn't moved an inch from where they'd set it. Seems his hopes were in vain, after all.

Redirecting a now discontent gaze toward his fellow finalist, the scrumptious man shook his head.

“I slept through the night, like you.” He asserted somberly. “And Dan…” Trailing off, he hung his head, disheartened. “I… guess he's the only person who could have done it.” He conceded. “I just wish he'd headed inside, too…” He leveled a finger to his finding to illustrate his point.

Assessing these factors, Will winced with sympathy. Reaching over, he patted his shoulder.

“It's going to be okay.” He reassured. “Though Dan's probably unapproachable right now, I'm sure you two can patch things up once the game's over. No matter who wins.” Receiving a nod, he switched subjects. “Speaking of, we should go get breakfast.”

“You're… you're right…”

___________

Though never a huge eater, Dan found it particularly difficult to will himself to consume some of the offered goods. It didn't relate to their quality. Considering how unhinged their host turned out to be, these tasted surprisingly good.

General disinclination for nearly everything just afflicted him. At this point, were this not the final, he wondered whether he would've bothered getting up. Nevertheless, he'd made it. Grueling rivalries, close-calls, challenges and developments — all led to what would transpire soon.

He set countless doors ablaze — many purely from rash judgment. Blowing this meant leaving with nothing under his belt, beyond infamy and burnt bridges. That prize had to fall on his hands — it was the last silver lining left.

Zip

Attention snapping to that noise's source, Dan spotted Alessandro climbing out of that tent. Despite recent efforts, eye-contact revealed how unprepared he remained. Though all nibbles taken were far too minute for him to choke over, a lump clogged his alimentary tract nonetheless.

Tearing his gaze away, he zeroed in on cinders from last night's campfire. Staring too long might drive him further off-kilter. His condition appeared more egregious than expected, somehow. Why else would he feel Alessandro's eyes lingering on him for so long?

“Your toque…” That velvety sound came, light and quiet. Probably stunned into such a state over how horribly he'd degenerated. “What happened?” That question caught him off-guard. Should he answer, or ignore? Eventually, he concluded — or excused — that withholding information may lead to continued prodding.

“I lost it…” He divulged, failing to stop himself from looking up. Punishment responded eagerly — greeting him with the sight of Will, who had just wormed his way out that tent, loitering near the model.

Freezing, Dan narrowly avoided gawking. Beyond that, his functions betrayed him — shock overruling any instinct to avert his gaze. He didn't view himself as possessive. But it stung, watching that moralizing hypocrite wheedle his way into Alessandro's affections. So effortlessly, too. All while he remained powerless to halt it, getting a front-row seat.

Perhaps ruminating on their encounter, the brickhouse waved sheepishly to him, gauging his scruffy self. Tension brewed, distracting Dan from Alessandro's exponentially worried countenance.

Right as the model unfastened his mouth to speak, Dan garnered a banana and sandwich. He couldn't stay there. Prickling verged on nightmarish by now. It… struck too many chords. He needed privacy to compose himself for their final trial.

“I already snacked on a decent amount.” He lied, springing off his billet. “You should help yourselves to the rest. Since I'm slower than you two, I better get going right away.” Allotting them zero chance to reply, he power-walked off camp.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I can't let myself be bogged down…” Arms looped round his diminutive, careworn frame, he heaved a mournful breath. “Otherwise, I'll ruin whatever chance I have of getting anything, aside from further hatred, out of this…”

—End Confessional—

As the scrawny figure shrank into the distance, Alessandro's heart ached. Why did Dan act as though their friendship had vanished outright? Slouching, he addressed a certain gentle giant.

“It… certainly seems way worse than you made it sound like…” He mumbled plaintively, lowering his gaze.

Letting this soak in, Will bunched his shoulders and cringed. Drawing in a profuse breath, he retrieved a basket so both could replenish vitality.

—Confessional :Will—

Embracing himself, he frowned.

“Minimizing how far Dan spiraled down may not have spared Alessandro from as much distress as I'd hoped…” Allowing that, he smacked himself in the forehead. “But is springing all this on Alessandro now, as we're getting started on the finale, really a good idea? For either of them?”

—End Confessional—

___________

Arms folded, Dan forged on, apportioning all his effort to keeping his resolve steeled. He'd spent half an hour trekking by now.

Floral clutter boxed him into that straight tract. Nothing unusual. Ironically enough, however, despite being cognizant of this being his last commute, constriction rang more apparent than ever. Oh yeah… because he was most certainly condemned to much loneliness from thereon… And vitriol…

Head swinging vigorously for a second, he took a deep breath. Focus. With all that incoming hardship, he needed to try his hardest to score that million dollars.

Amidst those profound ruminations, awareness of his surroundings dimmed. Even as that tree-lined, natural corridor opened up to that all too familiar clearing. Verdant blades grazed his once pure white, now rather mucky pants.

So engrossed, he ventured further into his destination without processing his arrival.

At least, until an irascible shout — laced with a polish accent — snapped him off his stupor.

“YOU ABSOLUTE PSYCHO!”

Locking up, he stared ahead. Installed near the mess-hall were three bleachers. One housed way more individuals than the other two. Amongst them, a rather familiar visage fixated on him, features contorted with odium. She thrashed against the grasp of her fellows, though most appeared displeased to see him, too.

“LET ME AT HIM! HE'S GOT TO PAY FOR WHAT HE DID TO MY ELLIE!”

___________

Transitioning into a skyview to denote time passing, we descended into current action.

Smack dab in the middle of that forest-enclosed grassland, Dan remained petrified at the sight of her. He… He was seeing things, right? But such notions were dispelled, as more tried soothing that red sweater-donning lady into simmering down.

Several minutes elapsed, enough for his fellow finalists to emerge from vegetation.

“Um… Dan? What's going…” Alessandro commenced, jolting that scrawny guy off his trepidation-induced paralysis. Orbs flicking to the source of those incessant screeches, he trailed off, as it clicked. “Oh no…” He let out, too quiet for his concern to be overheard.

Though bothered by his opponents’ discomfort — alongside the aggressive newcomer's demeanor — Will reacted less negatively. In fact, quite a few faces gladdened him, especially as they waved welcomingly.

Exiting the singular building, Brian Smith slicked his hair back. Emerald orbs sweeping across that trio, they settled on Dan, glinting mischievously. Grinning devilishly, the host whipped out a loudhailer.

“Did you truly think we'd only feature the three of you? In a finale?” Following that jeer with a cackle, he gestured toward those seat rows. “Nope! As with prior seasons, we've gotten the losers here. They'll be spectating your performance today!”

Zeroing in on the nerdy finalist, the host's grin widened. “Oh, and since Ellie is still recuperating, we have her girlfriend filling in…” He chuckled. Though restrained, Gabby snarled toward that geek, stirring his anxiety.

“Now, come forth and greet those not fortunate enough to make it as far as you have!” He urged, tone peremptory.

Gradually, all sank in for Dan. Apprehension welled within. Their former castmates’ judgment? His mind couldn't even attempt to indulge in delusion — reality fronted them too blatantly. Each second, his brain processed another recollection that exacerbated how dire this plight was.

Right off the bat, leaving Ellie as easy pickings for that beast repelled quite a few. Tess, which guaranteed neither Ally nor Hunter would consider supporting him. Grett. Jake, meaning Tom was off the question, too.

Tremors rippled through him, thoughts carrying on.

Knowing Nick, he no doubt resented getting booted first over him. Alec would follow Fiore's lead, and Connor had little reason to stray. Blake… well, it wasn't worth pondering. That left just Karol, he surmised. Had they ever chatted?

“Dan… are you okay?” Alessandro inquired, sidling to his side, rocking him off his introspection.

“I'm… I'm fine…” He stammered, pushing past his crippling dread to rush forward. Allowing this polite gesture to sow hope would distract him — he conjectured. Not to mention, set him up for extra heartbreak.

Heaving a despondent breath, Alessandro received a consoling pat to the shoulder, courtesy of Will. Both tailed their scrawnier fellow competitor.

—Confessional :Will—

His lips curved into a smile

“It's really nice seeing some people again.” Rubbing the back of his head, he tittered fondly. “Even more so knowing so many are rooting for me. I'll try my best to win, for sure…”

Expression crumbling to a degree, he averted his gaze.

“Though… it's hard not to brood over how less fortunate some of the competition is…”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I know now should be time to lock in…” Trailing off, he ran a hand down his attractive face with a conflicted puff. “But it's hard. I… guess I can take solace in knowing some are in my corner, though…”

—Confessional :Dan—

Miserable, he drew a weary intake.

“This was to be expected…” He insisted, evening his tone and checking his emotions as best he could. Focusing on the present to stave off self-deprecation, he averted his gaze. “I… just hope they won't play too huge a role in influencing our chances in the challenge…”

—End Confessional—

“As for our thirteen non-finalists…” Moving forth with a snicker upon compliance, he swiveled round to behold rows full of players with varying dispositions. “How about you voice your thoughts on the trio behind me, as they take in whose support each is getting?”

“I made my stance clear before I left.” Despite her refusal to elaborate, Fiore smirked toward Will. An unwavering supporter of his, she'd inevitably drawn Alec along, too. Beside them, dwelled Connor, who flashed a thumbs-up.

“Even though we mostly opposed each other, you're the most deserving winner here.” Hunter concurred, evoking a grateful grin. “So, don't falter now!” He pumped a fist — this bravado prompting Tess and Ally to blush.

“You… are the only person here I would be happy to see win.” Jake confessed, twiddling his thumbs. Flanking him, Tom clasped his shoulder reassuringly, supporting his husband's choice wholeheartedly.

Witnessing so many cheering him on warmed Will's heart. A year ago, had someone claimed he — Disventure Camp's inaugurating boot — would eventually maneuver his way into a finale, let alone garner this much acclaim…

Well, he would likely lack enough courage to vocalize it. But he'd deem them off their rocker.

Yet, here he was…

“You were an alright ally, even though we didn't manage to scheme much.” Grett shrugged, before her expression darkened. “But even if you'd refused, I'd pick you for being neither a certain geek nor his enabler…” She hissed, eyes narrowing toward both aforementioned contestants.

“Yeah! Give those assholes what they deserve!” Gabby hollered, despite thankfully ceasing her efforts to lunge and dole out her own brand of justice. Locking onto Dan, her orbs blazed. “Especially that traitor! He's got to pay for what happened to Ellie!”

Under their glower, Alessandro winced. Of course, he didn't regret being there when others scorned Dan, even now. But he recognized voicing it might trigger former contenders.

Meanwhile, Dan himself? It… actually made focusing easier. Whereas beforehand guilt threatened to drown him constantly, without distraction to avert this, now? Indignation surged with a vengeance.

“You two would know a lot about enablement, wouldn't you?” He retorted. Gasps rang out, as both women grew more irate.

Regarding those bewildered stares, he shrugged. Drive swelled within, and though aware it wouldn't last, he leaned into it. Hopefully, it could carry him through this last obstacle.

“What? Someone had to say it.” Crossing his arms, he countered Grett's glare with one of his own. “Beyond potential damage it could do to their gameplay, did Grett really care about Yul's treatment of others before she received it, too?”

Visage contorting with loathing, Gabby screamed again.

“DON'T YOU DARE TALK AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ELLIE!”

Head snapping toward her, Dan returned an expression nearly hateful. Stunning almost everyone, in fact. He didn't care, though. The last person he'd tolerate judging him was that hypocrite.

“Oh, of course.” He snarked. “I forgot that when Ellie acts like a complete piece of garbage for weeks, it's a-okay. But when someone has enough of her, suddenly they're an asshole.” He retorted, disregarding Alessandro's concerned gaze.

Though enraged, Gabby gaped at the sheer vitriol within that sentence.

“How… don't you feel even an OUNCE OF REMORSE?!” She barked. Slight desperation peeked through her wrath. Given the silence befalling Grett, alongside everyone else, this sentiment afflicted them all.

Keeping both arms folded, Dan bridled.

“Even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't let you, of all people, take advantage of that.” He asserted.

Exchanging a glance with Grett, Gabby sat down beside her. However, both maintained their glares.

Enraptured over this discord, Brian Smith's grin stretched wider. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat to regain attention.

“Though Will has garnered almost all support, it's only fair to allow dissenters an opportunity to let their voices be heard~” He declared, cocking his head toward both much emptier bleachers. Settling on the model's, he smirked. “Alright, you two, why are you there?”

Habitually, Nick didn't check whether the surfer seated near him wished to answer first. Tipping his fedora, he hummed boredly.

“Well, despite my elimination happening due to that model wanting to save his ‘friend’, the guy's hot. What more can I say?” Winking to Alessandro, who looked away with discomfort, he proceeded. “Besides, it's not as though either alternative is any good. So, allure is enough to convince me.”

Hearing this, Fiore scoffed with disbelief.

“How noble and loyal.” She snarked, craning her neck to shoot him a scathing gaze. “I thought you had made up with him, Lill and Ashley. Did you exhaust them with your bullshit again?” Despite standing up for Will, the brickhouse tensed as she brought that up.

“There's no need to mention-” His attempted interjection bombed, getting slashed off.

“That's none of your concern, got it?!” Nick snapped, springing off his seat with unprecedented rage. So vehement, in fact, lours from Alec and Connor didn't deter him. “He knows very well what happened!” He stated, a finger leveled toward the discomfitted behemoth.

“Ashley didn't mean those remarks about your attitude toward your family…” Will mumbled, distraught. Given Nick and Lill's bond had survived that disaster, he'd hoped the guy could move past it. Then again, neither side budge on the issue. “She was stressed about crops, and got triggered when you continued on and on about…”

“Whatever you're murmuring over there, quit it…” Nick hissed, unable to overhear, but managing to guess. Plonking back down, he folded his arms. “I don't want to hear it. My support goes to Alessandro. End of story.”

Awkward hushedness enfolded everyone momentarily. Optimism dampened, Will almost lowered his gaze. Just before he could, however, he noticed Fiore miming Nick's high-and-mighty mannerisms mockingly.

Despite unrevealed baggage, the brickhouse's lips curved into a smile.

Checking his wrist-watch, Brian Smith cleared his throat. “Moving on,” he urged, prompting a surfer to say his piece.

“Quite honestly, I'm not exactly against any of the final three winning.” Blake's admission drew raised eyebrows, as some continued side-eyeing a particular dweeb, who merely averted his gaze. This assurance did enthuse Will, however. “But I owe Alessandro a lot. It wouldn't feel right not to side with him.”

That heartfelt statement alleviated Alessandro's current turmoil, conjuring a smile onto his countenance. Further words weren't necessary — meaningful gazes conveyed it all.

Several moments passed, before the host moved things along.

“Alright then…” Tilting his head toward the last bleachers, he shuddered upon establishing eye-contact with that — in his eyes, anyway — tremendously vile wretch. “Lastly… Um… Karol, how come you've decided to support Dan?”

The man's obvious trepidation around her evoked a smirk, as she folded her arms.

“To be frank? The whining is already insufferable enough from here. I'd go crazy if forced to be near the sources.” A sidelong glance toward Nick and Gabby gave away details — and her callousness to the latter stirred disgruntlement.

Dismissing those couple unpleasant stares — largely stemming from Grett, alongside a particular poly-trio — her eyes alighted upon the geek she advocated out of convenience. She hummed with rumination.

“Apart from that, however…” She commenced again, sizing him up. “I'd be lying if I said I can't somewhat relate to him.”

Those stares intensified at her confession, many orbs gleaming with criticism. However, she remained as impervious as before, expounding her point.

“Aiden and James apologized a while after the show ended, but getting medically evacuated one round after returning sucked.” Dwelling over how that progressed, she frowned. “You know what made it worse, though? Spotting so many people online — or even personally, a few times — not just siding with them one-hundred percent, but claiming I deserved worse.” She snarled, embittered.

Those words attracted Dan's eyes to her — a pang of commiseration hitting him. Their differing circumstances didn't make it any less easy to identify with her. The same person that threw a shoe in his face early on, no less. How desolatingly ironic… As his brief resolve began cracking, however, Karol carried on.

“That's why, despite barely sparing him a thought at first, I think he deserves to win.” She reclined into her seat. “He's not only survived others’ attempts to take him down, but their bullshit, too. That, I can respect.”

“How can you give what he did to Ellie a pass?!” Gabby snapped, almost standing again. How could someone who abandoned her lover to get mauled attain anyone's approbation?! To her, it seemed unthinkable.

Arching an eyebrow as though addressing a fussy brat, Karol rolled her eyes.

“I suppose you didn't get to see early footage, but he did clarify his thought process in confessional shortly after.” Recollecting that rough cut, she went on. “He figured warning Ellie would lead to him getting caught and mauled, as she was faster. And he's not wrong there. Wouldn't surprise me if he's right about how she wouldn't have felt too bad, either.”

Gratitude welled within Dan, as someone pointed that out. This implicit reproach of Ellie's character, however, infuriated Gabby.

“Ellie's a way better person than you or that traitor could ever dream of being!” She avowed, her almost desperately manic tone drawing sympathetic looks from Tom, Tess and Grett especially.

Hands on her hips, Karol returned the stare. “So, you can confidently say she wouldn't choose self-preservation as well?” She challenged.

Taken off-guard, Gabby shook her head. “Wanting to live wouldn't make her a bad person…” She asserted, baffled.

“Really? Because you sure seem eager to crucify someone for just that-”

“That's a false equivalency!” With that, the tree-lover crossed her arms and whipped her head away.

“And you have no room to talk…” Grett muttered under her breath, glowering toward Karol. Neither the latter nor Dan listened to them anymore, though.

Spectating this exchange, amusement surged inside Brian Smith. These deranged ladies were good for something, at least. A snort threatened to escape him over his own quip. Seemingly sensing his bullshit, Karol squinted his way. Those unforgiving orbs swiftly withered the host, who feared for his nether region's wellbeing. Clearing his throat, he brought his megaphone up again.

“Let's get started with the actual competition, shall we?”

—Confessional :Dan—

Fists curled, he stared on with resolve.

“Initially, the sight of Gabby terrified me to the point I couldn't move. Literally…” Shame trickled in, but he shook his head. No questioning himself. Otherwise, he'd waver. “But then, hearing her accusations…. pissed me off so much!” Pounding a fist onto his palm, he narrowed his eyes.

Whether fully genuine or not, he'd found new drive within himself. He could only hope it would last.

—End Confessional—

Brian Smith's gleeful mood receded. Manual labor wasn't conducive to it. He'd much rather force others into it. Unfortunately, there was only one cameraman — his own operating skills too absent. His editors? Coercing them into setting up the second challenge last night was strenuous enough. No shot they'd agree to providing assistance again.

Sensing quirked eyebrows on him, his frown deepened. Those peasants probably reckoned this warranted for all he put them through. Who cared, anyway? They were but cogs in his entertainment system — nothing more, nothing less. Producers would doubtless appreciate his marvelous work, incident aside. And whichever of these losers happened to return? They'd receive no choice other than resigning to his whim once more.

Momentarily, that prospect cheered him up.

“Quit being a sloth, and get on with it!” Karol barked, stamping a foot with impatience. “You aren't paying us to be here, so don't waste our damn time!” In spite of others’ judgment for both her stance and earlier commentary, they shared this sentiment.

Too afraid to assert himself against her, Brian Smith seethed, bundling that hefty table before the final three.

“Julia is so fucking dead…” He muttered under his breath, cursing his deserting intern. Initially, this sudden disobedience delighted him – a perfect opportunity to deprive that bitch of payment right at the end. But now? Spite spurred him on. Once done with this season, he'd not only ensure she didn't see a cent, but look into getting her ass blacklisted, too. That would show her.

Panting as he finished pushing the structure in place, he slapped three buzzers onto that tabletop. Each in front of one finalist.

Inspecting his device, Dan instinctively jerked his head toward a certain brickhouse. The latter gulped, as the geek narrowed his eyes, distrusting him. Whilst this transpired, Alessandro watched his troubled best friend, perturbed.

—Confessional :Will—

A profuse wince painted his features.

“Yeah… I really, really should have been honest back then.” Rubbing the back of his head, he scrunched his face with rumination. “But I doubt revealing the truth while Dan's right there is a good idea.” He sighed wretchedly into his palms.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“I wish I could talk to Dan… but with him so focused right now, wouldn't that be inconsiderate?” He questioned, looking aside with turmoil.

—Confessional :Dan—

“Good thing I managed to stick myself between them.” Folding his arms, he leered. “No way in hell am I giving Will the opportunity to pull something under my nose.”

—End Confessional—

Once done setting it all up, Brian Smith braced himself against the table. Despite his traditionally good-looks, his display oozed physical ineptitude — as he necessitated several extra moments to steady his breath.

Thrusting himself upright, he marched over, halting before the trio.

“Today's round shall be divided into three segments.” He commenced presenting, a finger raised. “The failure crowd won't play a role here.” Lifting another, he continued. “They will, however, contribute significantly to the second section, where one of you will fall in third place.”

Those words rang through Dan's ears, his diminutive self tensing. Fists curling, he strained to cling onto that conviction. More than ever, he couldn't let it fizzle out.

“So… if you feel as though you're not well-liked, I'd suggest exercising twice the caution…” The host sneered, derision combating a wilted mood, fixating on him.

Most potential helpers — or tormentors — perked up over this explanation. Especially Gabby. A somewhat unhinged grin stretched across her mug, prompting some fellow Will supporters to scoot away. Her gleaming orbs bored into Dan, as she mimed a raw, painstaking throat-slit with a finger.

Dismay tinted Alessandro's countenance, as his buddy was threatened so bluntly. But the dweeb inhaled and exhaled sharply, not dignifying the hippy-girl with an answer right now.

Chortling, Brian Smith held three fingers, finally. “And to cap this whole journey off, our final two will duke it out, once again without interference from the gallery.” He exposited.

“I know who I don't want to see make it there.” Grett interjected. Thankfully, she didn't match her best friend's slightly deranged aura. However, her avowal sparked implicit, if not quite as ardent, agreement amongst many — as Dan amassed displeased stares, testing his patience.

“Can you explain this challenge?” Dan snarled to their host, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with those bleachers.

“Someone's getting testy here, eh?” Brian Smith snickered. In turn, a pair of hands banged the tabletop. Rolling his eyes, he acquiesced. “Fine, be a killjoy, why won't you? I'll lay it out quickly. All three of you, look at the buzzer in front of you.”

As compliance greeted him, the host proceeded.

“To start this finale, we'll hold a short quiz. I'll ask you a variety of questions. Each round, whoever presses their buzzer first is who gets to respond.” Wagging a finger, he smirked. “Be warned, though, that you must answer within five seconds of that. Answer wrong, and you can't try again that round — and the second fastest to press their buzzer gets a chance. A correct answer grants you a point, and this will end once someone successfully garners two. Any questions?”

Spotting a raised hand, his gaze turned to an inquisitive brickhouse.

“Since third-place will be determined in the next portion, what exactly is the reward for succeeding here?” Will queried. “Some advantage?”

Tsking, Brian Smith waved dismissively. “Don't be stupid, as if there'd be challenges within a finale that are strictly for a reward.” Overlooking his error, he clapped. “Whoever wins this gets to relax a while longer, as others vie for that last spot in the final two. And…” He smirked mischievously. “They'll also influence the next section, by giving their fellow final three members an advantage and disadvantage — within reason.”

Pressure bore down upon our final three. But neither Alessandro nor Will could fathom how their fellow finalist felt, under that increasingly unstable mask.

“Without further ado… let's begin!” Brian Smith exclaimed, fishing out a paper slip.

—Confessional :Dan—

“Gabby wants my head on a platter. Grett, too.” Listing those two off, he engaged in brief estimates, his grim expression worsening over his odds. “Given the looks many others are sending me… they'll clearly strive to ensure my loss in the next section…”

His resolve trembled momentarily — hopelessness threatening to break in. But he banged the side of his stump with vigor.

“I cannot give them that chance!”

—End Confessional—

“What was the season's first ever alliance?”

Knowing speed was crucial, Dan didn't hesitate. Smacking his buzzer, he pitched his answer.

“The alliance between…” Almost trailing with wistful nostalgia, he shrugged it off to articulate his sentence. “Alessandro and I!” He asserted.

“And your answer issssss….” Drawing the geek's anxiety out, Brian Smith crushed the slip, alongside his hope. “Dead wrong!” He announced, prompting a distraught gasp. “Seems you've lost your chance this round! Anyone else want to try-?”

Buzz

Deriving information from his competitor's failure, Will shot the host a resolute gaze.

“Blake formed an alliance with Fiore and Alec. I remember he told me about it!” He conjectured, getting somewhat competitive himself.

“That's right!” The host confirmed, snapping fingers toward them. “One point for Will. Answer correctly again, and you'll guarantee yourself a spot in the final two!” He commended.

Preening over doing this well right away, the brickhouse whooped, pumping a fist. Many advocates applauded him, finding his exultation contagious. From the opposite side of that table, the model allotted him a cordial nod.

Eyes narrowing, Dan's posture grew rigid. Of course, it couldn't even be Alessandro who triumphed instead. Nope. That self-righteous coward had to snatch this point — as though he didn't already possess a crowd on his side. Whatever… Throwing his chin up, he tried dismissing this, awaiting their next question.

Yet, a certain sweater-donning animal-lover noted his mannerisms. Eager to provoke him, amidst his clearly less prepared state, she didn't hesitate.

“Aw… I thought trivia quizzes were your thing.” Gabby crooned, her previously irate manner simmered down into smug derision. “I mean, you'd think you'd be good at least one thing. Guess not.” Despite the amount of people occupying those bleachers, no one objected.

Losing it, Dan banged a fist onto the wooden plane, scowling toward her.

“You know, Gabby?” He sneered. “A thought just occurred to me. It's quite ironic how you, of all people, are complaining about me taking the safer option for myself, just because it happened to cost your girlfriend! You know why?!” Jabbing a finger her way, he lashed out without thinking. “BECAUSE I BET YOUR VENGEFUL ASS WOULD HAVE THROWN SOMEONE TO THE WOLVES IF PISSED OFF ENOUGH!”

Grinning as those avowals reverberated through a gasping audience, Brian Smith pulled a fast one — resuming the challenge as everyone grappled with processing what just came off that spiraling nerd's mouth.

“When did the first proper Savage Raccoons blindside happen?”

That inquiry shattered Dan's bravado, his rattled mind reeling as his struggle to regain a grip over his emotions prevented basic assessment. Cognizant that Will could score victory right there, panic eddied inwardly, exacerbating matters.

Reproving stares bore down, judging him over that statement he fired at Gabby — and countless decisions he made throughout this competition. Like her and Grett — he figured — they watched pending their shot to oust him from the running. He really was alone, wasn't he?

Buzz

Fissuring his will, that noise dinned like an inferno within his eardrums. He didn't bother checking. Probably that goody-two-shoes again… Keeping his gaze low so as to screen encroaching tears, he readied himself for the inevitable humiliation tour.

“Second elimination ceremony attended by the team — Connor's boot!” That response came from a familiar, velvety voice. The dweeb raised his head, only to realize Alessandro — not Will — had pressed his buzzer.

“Point for Alessandro! Meaning, him and Will are tied with a point each…” Brian Smith announced, smirking — lingering on the trembling, scraggly figure. “Unless Dan starts winning immediately, the next question may settle this!”

“You're a dead man…” Grett snarled, an arm coiled comfortingly over her best friend's shoulder. Revolted over her former buddy's accusation, Gabby couldn't even delight in him failing once more. She just stared with utter detestation.

Averting his gaze, Dan missed Alessandro's worry again. Breathing heavily, he did his best to regain his bearing. Amidst it all, remorse pooled within Will.

—Confessional :Dan—

“Damn, that was close. I let Gabby's taunting get to me, and…” Hand brushing disarrayed strands, his misery increased a smidge. Yeah, even his toque went away. “If not for… Alessandro swooping in before Will, I'd be toast already.”

Cracks kept cropping across his resolve, but his hands balled — expression hardening, devising a scheme on the fly.

“Time to lock in!”

—End Confessional—

Gaze flicking between both opponents, he ensured neither had their attention on him. Fortunately, they stared ahead. Soon enough, so did he.

Pay distractions no mind… He ordered himself, tuning out potential endeavors from those spectating to break his focus. Letting his mind slip would jeopardize all he worked for-

“Who won this season's first individual immunity-?”

“CONNOR BLAKE!” Dan blurted out. Gobsmacked over this absurdity — claiming the third-boot had won the first merge round — his fellow finalists swiveled, considering him with stupefied countenances. Neither registered the lack of a-

Buzz

“Getting devious now, aren't we?” Brian Smith snickered. Relishing the sight of this trickery dawning on everyone, he inspected the hand that just impacted that buzzer. “So, is Connor Blake your actual guess?”

Fastening his gaze forth — afraid his foul play had degraded Alessandro's view of him farther — Dan shook his head.

“My actual answer is Blake — the surfer, I mean.” He stated, fixing the host with an intense stare. Despite being so basic, part of him still dreaded somehow bungling it. A mistake pretty much constituted signing his own death warrant.

“And your answer is…” Doubtless observing this apprehension, Brian Smith savored each prolonged moment. Once fully sated with the guy's trepidation, he finally went on. “Correct, of course. You'd have to be very stupid not to know.”

Tremendous relief washed over Dan, whose figure almost slackened in turn. Taking a cursory look over some displeased faces, he quickly shrugged off that momentary relaxation.

“With that, we've got a 1-1-1 tie!” The host chortled. “No matter the result, we'll be wrapping things up with this next query. I suggest you buckle up, now more than ever!”

—Confessional :Dan—

“Call it impetuous, but it's not as though I'm outright cheating. Besides…” A dour sigh escaped him. Retracting both legs, he propped his chin in his knees. “It's not as though refraining from such tactics would lead to people no longer disliking me.”

—End Confessional—

“At the final four, who fulfilled their task first?” Brian Smith inquired, puzzling two finalists. Although last question had been ridiculously straightforward, it pertained to events that had transpired a while ago. The semi-finals occurred yesterday.

Predicting a catch — or perhaps still uncomfortable sending a peculiar geek to certain doom — Alessandro abstained from voting. Tapping the wooden tabletop, he waited.

Suspicious, Dan's eyes scorched over to Will. He squinted, spotting him exchanging a tiny grin with a certain brat. That sight triggered a hazy fragment, one his bawling at yesterday's ceremony drowned out almost entirely. The brickhouse reached an arm forth.

Smack

Despite hardly stinging, the guy withdrew his struck hand, jolted. Buzzing cut through ensuing gasps. An extremity jittered, yet remained firmly atop its owner's buzzer. Taking a gander over it, Brian Smith clapped with a chuckle.

“Getting daring now, aren't we?” He quizzed, as Dan restrained himself from glimpsing others’ reactions. The dweeb wagered their disapproval might derail him from an accurate response. “Do tell. What's your guess?”

Inhaling sharply, he went with his deduction. “I think… Fiore fulfilled her task first, even if Will somehow won immunity instead.” He inferred, gut churning. Would this bet pay off? Or would his intuition misfire, making him even more of a laughingstock? Quivering from uncertainty, he awaited a verdict.

Wind blew past them, as Brian Smith intentionally withheld judgment a bit longer than prior. Eventually, however, he gradually raised an arm, hand curled tightly.

“And the answer… is…” He dragged out, enjoying how that grimace deepened each second. At last, he splayed his hand. “Correct! You've scored yet again!” He declared, much to the aforementioned nerd's elation. “Quit the comeback, I must say. From initially missing your shot twice, you've now clinched your second point — guaranteeing yourself a spot in the final two!”

“Hah!” Jubilation unfettering his impulses, Dan jerked his head toward a particular duo amongst his opponent's crowded bleachers. “In your face…” Myriad umbrage-infused expressions confronted him, snipping his gloating wordlessly.

Oh yeah… virtually no one rooted for him. Apart from Karol. Seeming proud, she inclined her head with a slight smirk, side-eyeing a certain duo.

It… still bummed him out. However, he couldn't let his fragile drive waver again. Steeling himself, he tore his gaze off them, folding both arms.

Mere feet away, indelible worry gnawed at a certain model. Deeming discussion imperative, he edged closer and clasped the geek's shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Alessandro requested, finally getting their gazes to entwine. “Despite what I said about waiting until the game ends, I don't want there to be a misunderstanding between us.” He elaborated, hoping for his consent.

Puzzlement gleamed across Dan's orbs. A misunderstanding? About what? He wasn't foolish enough not to recognize how he'd trashed their friendship. Soaking in that warm regard, it stirred an inkling of… hope?

Gaze drifting amidst this stupor, he noticed Gabby and Grett's leers. That germinating emotion swiftly departed, replaced with apprehension. Those two… oh no. An unfortunate truth dawned on him. With him safe from their clutches, they might take their grievances out on…

Exerting too much force, Dan wrenched his shoulder free. Eyes downcast to evade the dejected look he induced, he stayed guarded.

“Don't worry about whatever that is.” He asserted, mustering as harsh a tone as possible. Even so, his cadence cracked as he proceeded. “I… don't want this costing either of us this game…”

“Dan…” This soft call burrowed that dagger deeper into his heart, rendering his inner disarray messier to wrestle with. Mercifully, Brian Smith abruptly interposed himself between them, shoving them apart.

“Dan, since you get to skip this next segment, start heading to the Savage Raccoons’ camp. It will probably take a couple hours for you to know who's joining you in the final showdown.” The host instructed, pointing to that trail, which had gone unused since merge. “But first, your reward…” He motioned for the geek to come over.

Desperate to escape a model's longing gaze, Dan complied. They began a whispery back and forth, which spanned nearly a minute. It took some concessions, but their canvass eventually concluded. And they parted.

Sensing daggers radiating from the bleachers, Dan wasted no time trotting into woodland as assigned. Embracing himself tightly, he tried to ignore his own heartache.

Despondent, Alessandro's head lolled down, dismaying the brickhouse viewing this exchange.

—Confessional :Will—

“Crap…” He rubbed his temples, guilt assailing him even harder.

—Confessional :Dan—

Embracing himself, his face scrunched up with ponderation.

“I couldn't risk getting derailed from my focus.” He heaved a weary expulsion. “Even on the slim chance I'm not just deluding myself into having hope… I…”

At a loss for words — maybe no longer capable of rationalizing his own decisions himself — he fell quiet, averting his gaze.

How could he explain further? When his goals felt so hollow now?

—End Confessional—

Chapter Text

Eyes trained in the direction the geek had gone, Alessandro heaved a wretched puff. He could only watch, as the figure shrank into the distance — reduced to a speck, before evanescing from sight entirely.

It stung indelibly — missing out on his last shot to properly communicate with Dan. His own compulsion grew each second. That wasn't the worst of it, though. What he gleaned from Dan's demeanor throughout this ordeal cemented this necessity as mutual — perhaps even stronger on the other's end, despite efforts to veneer it.

Mulling over that exacerbated Alessandro's self-shame.

“That scoundrel can't run away forever.” Gabby muttered, cracking her knuckles. Her altercation with that scrawny bastard had solidified her stance — ultimately pushing past Karol's pathetic attempt to destabilize her resolve. Just desserts would crush him soon. “The fact he's gotten to do so right now, though…” She snarled, itching to deliver punishment.

A supportive palm squeezed her shoulder. In turn, her head tilted to her smirking best friend.

“Don't worry. He may have escaped facing consequences directly a little longer; however, there's a clear way we can still hurt him…” Grett whispered, snapping a finger to the model. She clicked her tongue to imitate a trigger-pull, perking her buddy right up.

“That's right…”

Despite not discerning exact statements, their ignited stares caught Alessandro's notice. Their vindictive glints, redolent of those they'd relentlessly leveled to Dan before his departure- Oh…

A shiver shot up the delectable man's spine — comprehension barging into his already troubled mind, nearly inciting a crippling cacophony. Apprehending what tribulation potentially impended for him, his repertoire as a model and aspiring model was all keeping him from violently trembling.

Even then, a certain brickhouse stood close enough to note him seizing up slightly.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

His eyes flicked from side to side. The in-person glimpse into Gabby's personality — as well as knowledge regarding this show — sufficed to get him paranoid over her crossing lines at some point.

Following several moments, he stopped, sighing.

“I know my chances aren't looking good right now.” He conceded, palm ghosting across his forehead to ensure no perspiration accumulated. “Aside from hoping Dan's reward helps out, though, there's not much I can do about that. I'll just have to roll with the punches… Gabby's the one I'm most afraid might do something really bad, though…”

Mentioning her name, another subject crossed his mind.

“Even so…” His face scrunched with skepticism. “Was Gabby's taunting really all it took to trigger Dan for a moment again?” He wondered. “And why did he seem so… apprehensive about talking to me today, even before this last attempt?”

Gaze fleeting aside, he scoured that morning to pinpoint further oddities. Going over that short exchange at camp, discomfort seeped into his face. A detail preceding Dan's hasty exit surfaced.

—End Confessional—

So much for keeping peace between them… Will berated himself, observing his newfound buddy's unfavorable predicament. Good intentions didn't mean much, when his decision had proven itself a net-negative.

Tracing Alessandro's unsettled look to that grudge-loaded duo, he flinched. Even in Dan's absence, they effused unimaginable odium through mere glares. Despite presumably getting them in his corner, the brickhouse echoed his competitor's trepidation. He'd avoid working with them, if possible.

Orbs returning to the aforementioned model, another penitent pang struck. He should… No. The man would have enough trouble competing, as was. Knocking him off-kilter would be unfair… Better to just try and solace him.

Too nervous over potentially slipping whilst speaking, he gripped his shoulder reassuringly. The model gave him what looked to be a grateful nod, which just worsened the brickhouse's guilt.

—Confessional :Will—

Mitts cupping his knees, he slouched, expelling a torn puff. Not a good mindset to harbor at such a pivotal stage. Part of him deprecated this as ingratitude, to be frank.

What right did he possess to pity himself? The majority backed him up. Neither vengeance-seeker had him in their sights. Yet, he'd almost begun sulking already. How…

Shaking his head, he recalled words of encouragement provided by various parties throughout his run. Even though he fucked up, sliding into a slump was unacceptable. If not for others, for himself.

“I want to confess… so bad.” He conceded, fisting his cargo shorts. “But I'm not sure how he'd react. Especially now. I shouldn't have downplayed anything in the first place, nor should have I kept it up this long.”

Head drooping, he ejected a pregnant intake.

“But now? Revealing it may just leave Alessandro worse off than before. Not to mention, doing it in front of so many — Gabby and Grett especially.” He grimaced. “It wouldn't end well…”

—End Confessional—

Checking his wrist-watch, Brian Smith rolled his eyes over this wordless solidarity. This wasn't a place for mushy sentiments. Finale time, people. He hadn't courted disfigurement swaying Gabby into coming, just for both these bozos to squander potential drama!

Clutching his loudhailer, his disdain morphed back into arrogance. Despite not needing to, he raised it to his mouth. Let him adjust the atmosphere real quick…

“Alright!” Unleashing a faux cheer, he smirked as the duo recoiled over his blaring interruption. Serves them right. “Enough waiting around! Time to explain the challenge!”

Everyone hushed up — both contenders trading discomfitted glances. Neither appeared eager. The model's motives behind his apprehension didn't need explanation. The brickhouse? Brian Smith couldn't tell what precluded that crybaby from rejoicing over his ostensible advantage. Perhaps remorse? Utterly ignominious.

Then again, more tension heaping on for viewers back home. Nothing to gripe over.

Gesturing toward woodland, he rued freeing that wolf. Such a spectacle would augment today's contest greatly. Not to mention, he might have managed to frame Julia over it. Well, no use bitching over spilled milk. Catching himself digressing, he commenced.

“Stamped onto trunks across these woods are pamphlets.” Fishing an example off his pocket, he dangled the sheet for all present to observe. Before carrying on, he recalled his current staff deficit. Countenance losing its lustre, he huffed. “Just a moment…”

Swiveling round, he stalked into the mess-hall. However, a certain tree-hugger's vindictive snicker didn't escape him. Face tightening out of everyone else's view, he deliberated over a couple jabs to take at her in the future.

Regardless, he soon emerged into sunlight — gripping two pails, before letting go. Both clattered onto the turf before his feet — each had a finalist's name scribbled on in sharpie. Dusting his hands, he cleared his throat and continued.

“Upon starting, you'll be allotted ninety-minutes to deposit as many as you can scrounge up onto your respective container. Once time is up, contents will be tallied. Outdo your competitor, and you advance to the final two!” The host declared, throwing both arms upward.

That spiel blurred within Gabby's mind. Each second, words jumbled further and further. To her, sounding like nothing but vexing gibberish. Patting her lap, antsy, she narrowed her orbs the longer that fraud prolonged matters. Just get on with it already! She had a treacherous weasel to scalp!

Finally, she interjected.

“Cut to the chase!” She hissed, banging on the side of her seat with her fist. “Where do we come in?” Grett's concurrent nod allayed her fury lightly. Ever since All-Stars, both women knew they could always rely on one another.

“I'm getting to that.” Brian Smith chastised, irking her again.

Gabby scowled. What right did he have to get pissed with her? Even though that nerdy bastard got Ellie mauled, his careless oversight contributed, too! However, a reassuring grip over her shoulder — courtesy of Grett — grounded her. Thus, she curbed her indignation temporarily, lest it screw her over.

Surveying them, Brian Smith's lips curled. Thank goodness that banshee didn't launch a tirade. Headaches were the last thing he wanted at the end of this gig.

“Despite the rude interruption, Gabby's comment gives a nice segway to Dan's other reward…” He mentioned, spotting a certain model perking up.

Those greyish-emerald orbs glinted so scrumptiously with faith — quite a sight for sore eyes… Which made said insolent ingrate refusing the host all the more nettling. Regardless, he proceeded, wagging a finger and straining on that smarmy grin.

“Trust me, our whispering session may have been short, but that dweeb's insistence was staggering!” He snarked, earning himself a glower from Alessandro. In turn, a snarl nearly crossed his own face — given rejection remained in the mind. Why did the guy even care so much for that unstable nerd? “Obviously, I culled many suggestions — couldn't let his influence be completely overpowered. But he made sure our compromise still pushed it as much as allowed…”

“Of course, he did.” Grett groused, rubbing her friend's back soothingly. Perceiving context clues, she ventured to inquire. “So, what conditions wound up coming from him, exactly?”

There — much more pleasant to work around.

“Glad you asked.” The host chuckled. “Let's see…” He mused over how to commence, before a nice-sounding order assembled in his head. He pointed to the brickhouse first. “Will, if you're somehow guilty over having such a tremendous leg over your adversary in support, then worry not. Dan was quite adamant on limiting you as much as possible.”

“Well… it makes sense for him not to disadvantage his friend.” The gentle behemoth responded, scratching his hair. Being candid, he surmised direct aversion played a role as well; however, alluding to that would rouse suspicion.

“Like he didn't try voting him off…” Gabby tsked, aware of yesterday thanks to gossip quickly reaching her. Honestly, such information rendered that model's obvious desire to patch things up with that weasel all the more infuriating.

Brian Smith's grin stretched as wide as humanly possible. Sustaining palpable tempers was always a delight. Maintaining that streak within the finale was majestic. The model averting his gaze upon overhearing that aside — chef's kiss. So much so, he chortled.

From Alessandro's bleachers, Blake caught that. The surfer narrowed his eyes, but kept silent.

Realizing how much things were getting derailed, Brian Smith coughed and composed himself. He could cackle over exploiting those suckers after wrapping production up.

“Back on topic, Will.” The host called for the brickhouse's attention. “Though I stopped Dan from hindering as much as he'd hoped, he's still restricted the amount of help you'll receive. Rather than an entire crowd, you'll be left with only four of them.”

BANG

“This is bullcrap!” Gabby barked — self-aware enough to recognize her chances of getting picked were near non-existent. “Why does that glasses-wearing brat get to add conditions here? He's not even competing!”

Folding her arms, Grett wordlessly shared that sentiment. Both pointedly evinced more displeasure than the one with something at stake here.

“Because I say so.” Brian Smith deadpanned toward Gabby. “Listen, love the vitriol you're adding and all, but you really shouldn't be pointing fingers my way. If you're so upset over what happened, and about Dan getting so far, maybe you should've thought twice before declining your invite.” He wrote off.

Gabby's snarl deepened.

Dismissing her, Brian Smith motioned to the eye-candy next. The model already looked somewhat relieved, as the brickhouse idling nearby sent him a reassuring glance.

“With Will receiving the disadvantage, it goes without saying Dan has chosen to help out Alessandro.” The host confirmed. “Again, he was quite insistent. Of course, especially with how much the disadvantage I agreed to give Will pushed it already, I needed to veto a lot. Even so, you'll not only be assisted by both your helpers — Blake and Nick — but also his sole advocate…”

Trailing off, somewhat expecting the middle-aged hag to lash out at him over this, Brian Smith steeled his resolve before gesturing toward her.

“Karol!”

“You know what?” Said woman huffed, standing upright. Fists curled, she shot an exasperated look toward the rather filled bleachers opposing where she sat. “Fine — at least it will dial down the amount of whining I'll have to suffer through mid-challenge.”

Relocating to Alessandro's bleachers, Karol plonked down on the same bench as Blake. Despite this, Nick felt the need to scooch to the end of his row. Given her aversion to that spoiled brat, she didn't mind.

Eyes flicking between this disorderly duo, Blake bit down a sigh. Frankly, he didn't hold much hope for Nick's ability to pull his weight. Therefore, he figured he may as well try and motivate Karol. Leaning over, he whispered to her.

“Will's probably picking at least one of Hunter or Tess — wouldn't be surprised if Alec wound up volunteering in Fiore's place, due to recently adopting her.” He reminded. “If you're still somewhat miffed with any of them, this might be your shot to retaliate.”

“I saw raw footage back at the motel. You set me up to get targeted by Alec over Connor's boot.” Karol observed, folding her arms. The surfer winced, yet nodded apologetically. She hmphed. At least, he didn't spout excuses. “But, I suppose, you weren't insufferable to share space with. Unlike certain people…” Her glare drifted from many of their potential future opponents, to Nick, who bridled haughtily.

“Glad to hear,” Blake responded, shaking hands.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Before any viewers whine, I remember what I said back in the motel.” She asserted with an eye-roll. “My attitude didn't help my game. But that's something to keep in mind if I ever get another chance to compete. Right now, though?” She smirked. “No better consolation prize than to put two losers in their place.”

—End Confessional—

Retaining a daub of wariness — even with assurance washing over — Alessandro cocked his head toward his fellow contest. Despite just receiving a reassuring look, he preferred verifying it. Giving a discreet nod toward a peculiar, he conveyed his question.

“It's fine.” Will assured, resting a palm on his shoulder. “To be frank, Gabby's scaring me, too…” He whispered — both because it was true, and in a failed endeavor to ward off that sticky regret.

“Thanks.” Alessandro smiled, though that feeling something was off grew stronger in the recesses of his mind.

Spying their exchange, the host stifled a snort.

—Confessional :Brian Smith—

“Of course, giving Will full control over his picks would be a fucking terrible idea.” Checking his nails, he scoffed with scorn. “He probably wants to keep the peace…” Tutting, he wiggled an index, smirking. “Well, not on my watch…”

—End Confessional—

“Get a move on!” Brian Smith commanded, snapping a finger at the brickhouse's bleachers, jolting the duo off their pleasant moment.

Stepping forward, Will contemplated his options. Two snarling women were already scratched off the chart, but it didn't facilitate selection too much. Though, names did come on his radar. Even so, he mulled over them.

“Um, hello?” A tiny hand poked through that small crowd, waving rambunctiously. “Your noggin's not about to slow down now, is it? Last time I checked, only one option here has made the final four twice.” Fiore sassed.

Shoulders bunching, uncertainty swirled within him. Due to that unexpected fellowship they forged across this season, he felt partly inclined to honor that request — demand? But his orbs kept flitting to their host, filling him with misgivings regarding it. Recalling Fiore's account of how the semi-finals went on her side, he balked further.

“I… don't know…” He admitted, scritching his hair.

Springing upright, Fiore protested. “Oh, come on. I can handle myself.” She leveled a finger toward Alessandro. “Don't forget — if not for that model happening to have an idol, I'd be the one still in the running. So-”

“Even if Will picked you, I wouldn't allow it.” The librarian seated beside her chimed in, arms crossed. Upon receiving a grumpy pout, he shook his head and elaborated, side-eyeing their host. “I hate to get strict so early, Fiore, but given how the merge has gone? I'm not leaving you vulnerable to any ‘ratings-boosting’ ideas Brian may get on a whim.”

Slumping down, Fiore averted her gaze. “Fine…” She muttered. Her grouchiness did recede somewhat, however, as he patted her shoulder apologetically. “Stop that!” Despite shrugging it off, her tone lightened significantly.

Grinning upon that wholesome scene, Will couldn't resist speaking her language. “Besides, we already teamed up throughout the later stages of the game. Taking all the screen-time in the finale might be too far.” He jested, evoking a giggle.

“Fair enough.” Fiore smirked, before feigning a judgmental stare. “Make sure not to flop immediately after my exit, though.” She warned, getting a silent nod.

“How sweet…” Brian Smith drawled, rolling his eyes. “What part of be quick eluded you?”

Another arm ascended amongst the brickhouse's advocates. Aged, muscled and tattooed. Dark-gray hair swaying with a breeze, the man beamed — golden tooth glinting with sunlight.

Noggin turning to regard him uncertainly, Alec arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure volunteering for this is a good idea?” He queried. Tipping up his glasses, he motioned to the older male's ankle. “Given that incident during the second challenge, that could cause you issues again.”

Waving off those concerns, Connor winked. “It's all good — trust me.” He insisted. Refocusing on Will, he pointed finger-guns toward him. “Come on, kiddo. I swear I won't slack off on you.”

Sympathy welled within the brickhouse. Eyes flitting across other advocates, he deduced it wouldn't hurt. “Okay then — glad to have you on my side, Connor.” He concurred.

“Boo-Yah!” The CEO enthused, pumping a fist. Gabby's scowl deepened over this cheer, knowing she definitely wasn't getting a chance to exact even indirect revenge herself. Despite ghosting soothing circles on her back with her palm, Grett nursed similar — if slightly tamer — bitterness, leering toward that geezer for his accidental insensitivity.

“Alright, we get it!” Brian Smith interrupted brusquely, quietening him with a glower. Gaze darting to the brickhouse, his orbs constricted. “Exercise more caution with your next pick.” He advised, barely curbing a knowing sneer.

Despite that foreboding admonition, successfully passing that first-pick hurdle awarded the brickhouse some confidence. His eyes flew over his assisting group.

Fiore was a no-go, so the same went for Alec. Grett and Gabby… no comment required. Despite Ashley's friendship with Jake, Will wasn't well-acquainted with either him or Tom — and didn't feel risking things between them and Blake getting awkward was worth it.

Fittingly, that left only three options — it had been a bumpy ride, but he trusted them to lend a hand.

“Hunter.” The brickhouse commenced, beaming once the guy elevated off his seat with a cocksure nod.

“Good choice.” Hunter quipped, with a finger-snap. Soon, though, his glint turned expectant. “I assume you'd like to have trio synergy working in your favor here, too, right?”

Leaning forth, Ally looked forward to showcasing her skills again, considering her disappointing run this season. In contrast, Tess folded her arms, shaking her head fondly over her boyfriend and girlfriend's respective displays.

“Was that obvious?” Will chuckled. Amidst their chummy exchange, he missed the host's sudden approach. “But yes, I'd also like to pick-” A shove cut him off. Stumbling back a couple steps, he blinked, puzzled.

“Sorry, but with your final picks made, the ruse is up.” Brian Smith stated, a devious smirk painting his face. “Given I allowed Dan to influence matters, I concluded I might as well join the fun.”

Letting widened eyes fasten onto him, he preened. Yet again, sublime intuition on his end — screening his little trick would amp up drama. Slicking his jet-black strands backward, he envisaged himself hosting countless future seasons.

“What?” Hunter blurted. “But you said Will would get four helpers!”

“He was bullshitting, clearly. It's on brand for him.” Grett exhaled, eyes scorching off her hippy buddy to stare at their host. “So… what's on your mind today?” She inquired, unamused.

Brian Smith hmphed over her reproaching tone. Oh… this insolent, low-grade influencer had some nerve — faulting him. This season — whenever it gets publicly released — better dent her reputation with that final seven, mid-challenge tantrum. Picturing that, he swallowed his snark, wanting to keep her and Gabby fixated on their anti-Dan crusade.

“First, I said Will would be left with four of you helping him. Never confirmed he'd get full freedom in creating that quartet.” Even with those aforementioned concerns, his cadence came out patronizing. “I omitted details to push assumptions, sure; however, I did no such thing as bullshitting.”

“Sure…” Fiore scoffed.

Ignoring the brat, Brian Smith went, approaching Grett and Gabby's seats. Each step, his smirk stretched. Stopping before them, he was grinning menacingly.

“Besides… you and your friend should be the last ones to complain, this time.” He declared, stirring intrigue.

Arching an eyebrow, Grett's mouth parted to pry. However, Gabby perked up and beat her to it — head snapping to make eye-contact with the man.

“What do you mean?” She demanded — equal parts optimistic and baleful. Though vague, those words sparked hope within her. On the other hand, despite barely interacting with this guy, she already pegged him as untrustworthy. Wouldn't put it past him to hype her up, only to yank the rug off her feet. “You better not be pulling a trick.”

Under different circumstances, that threat might have rattled Brian Smith. Right now, though? He knew things would go his way.

“Fair enough. Let me cut to the chase, then.” Bringing his loudhailer to his mouth with a hand, he flung the other upward. “To keep things from getting chummy on mister coward's side, I'm handpicking Gabby and Grett as his final helpers. No take-backs!” He blared out.

Bewilderment struck both finalists speechless — processing this revelation. Both had sought to maintain amicable competition, given how tense these last couple days grew. Only for Brian Smith to foist this disaster-waiting-to-happen onto them.

The brickhouse's shock dissipated first. “That's…” Trailing off, he sighed. Couldn't really deem it beyond their host's usual callous behavior. But allowing it to pass without criticism seemed wrong. Not to mention, very irritating. Crossing his arms, he shook his head. “Did you really need to get nasty, even on the last day?”

“Oh, don't be such a baby.” Brian Smith blew him off. Palms on his hips, he smirked. “What? Think women are too weak to help you out?” He goaded.

“I was literally calling for Ally and Tess, before you cut me off to spring your twist on me-” The brickhouse commenced.

BANG

Everyone started — the brief spat getting unceremoniously snipped. Eyes flicked to Gabby, her hands planted firmly on her seat. Factoring in her prior demeanor, most steeled themselves for a rageful outburst on pure instinct.

In lieu of the anticipated snarl, however, she bore a shit-eating grin. Her previous irritation evaporated into glee, which increased as a certain model shuddered. He should be frightened.

Turning to Grett, she held out a hand. “Let's show them what we're made of!”

“Certainly.” Grett high-fived her, smirking. As she reflected, however, it fell. Concern tinted her countenance. She felt obligated to look out for her platonic companion. As focus dispersed into several hushed discussions, she lowered her voice. “Just… make sure not to do anything that may get you in trouble, okay?”

Buffled, Gabby furrowed her brow, evoking a forbearing exhale from her yellow-donning fellow.

“Trust me, I'm pissed about what happened to Ellie.” Grett gripped the crimson, coarse fabric over her shoulder firmly. “But I know, for a fact, that she doesn't want you getting into a mess for her sake.” She rationalized.

Ruminating on her argument, Gabby leaned closer to whisper. “Fine, I guess there's not much point in getting physical, since Dan's not available to target.” She conceded. “I'll try and avoid getting into major conflict…” Her lips curled impishly. “Others don't need to know about that restraint, though…”

Coming to agreement, they leered toward the uneasy pretty-boy. Balling a fist against his chest, he drew a sharp intake. Beside him, the brickhouse supplied a plaintive gaze.

—Confessional :Will—

“Fuck…” Groaning into his mitts, he ran them down his face. “I couldn't even keep those two from getting to compete. One small thing I could've done for Alessandro — and it's out of my control…”

Lowering his head, he ejected air miserably.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Fingers digging into his styled hair, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Equanimity was pivotal. Of course, endeavors to maintain it kept falling through.

“Should have anticipated this…” His hand brushed down, pressing into his forehead with consternation. “That bastard wouldn't let the chance for more potential drama pass…” Dabbling in slight recollection, his expression tightened. “Maybe it's also his way of punishing me for not going along with…”

Eyes darting to the lens, he did a vehement headshake, before resuming.

“It could be worse, I guess. Still have a fighting chance at least, thanks to Dan…” Trailing off, he cringed with longing.

—End Confessional—

Savoring the tension his twist produced, Brian Smith clapped with a broad grin. “Now… the seven of you, please stand next to your respective finalists, so I can state a few more stipulations.”

“You're going down, shallow enabler!” Gabby hollered, drawing a giggle and nod from Grett, as both led the quartet. Loitering next to the brickhouse — whose gaze remained on the men he'd gotten to choose himself — the vengeful duo trained their baleful orbs onto their adversary.

Folding his sculpted upper limbs, Alessandro tore his gaze off them. Lingering would stoke apprehension — something detrimental to his chances. Not to mention, he'd rather they don't pick up on his slight offense over that ‘shallow’ jab.

Refusing to let his friend get overwhelmed, Blake reared up and beckoned the rest to follow. Vacating that model's bleachers, the trio came to Alessandro's side.

“Don't worry, we're here for you.” The surfer assured, patting his shoulder. Noticing Gabby and Grett glaring still, he glowered right back. “You two better not try anything…”

“Or what?” Gabby scoffed, advancing a step. Though upholding her secret pact with Grett to not get herself into trouble, she didn't feel like taking that admonition. Who did that beach bum think he was, anyway?

“Why should I tell you?” Blake crossed his arms.

“Appreciate the energy, you two.” Brian Smith chortled, giddy. The speed they spiraled in delighted him. “But we've got a challenge to proceed with, so quiet down.”

Exchanging contentious stares, both begrudgingly obliged. Stalking back to their respective groups, one frown loosened, whereas another stayed unwavering for the moment.

—Confessional :Blake—

“I really don't want to continuously squabble with others again. It especially sucks due to Gabby being Tom's best friend…” Shaking his head, he rubbed his temples. “I'd rather not risk causing us to regress…”

Crossing his arms, he jettisoned a disgruntled puff.

“But, I'm not letting Alessandro get walked all over by her.”

—End Confessional—

Pacing before them jauntily, Brian Smith elucidated further.

“As for extra caveats.” He commenced, raising a finger for each point he itemized. “You're not allowed to tear pamphlets, obviously. Second, snatching pamphlets off your competition is allowed… but only within woodland.” Stamping a foot, he halted and theatrically whirled with his arms outstretched. “Within this glade? No grappling allowed.”

Arms crossed, Karol scoffed. “So what? If someone has tons of pamphlets — perhaps some stolen from me — and steps foot into this place before I can catch their ass, I'm meant to just watch them waddle to deposit it all?”

Given your oversized hips, you shouldn't waste that time. However, Brian Smith enjoyed keeping his lower region intact, so he forewent snide commentary.

“Of course, even though this should go without saying, you can't remove anything from either pail. Once it's there, it's there…”

As those seven quickly digested those guidelines, Fiore's eyes mused on the scene, before drifting somewhere else. Hatching something, a smirk tugged at her lips.

“Without further ado!” Brian Smith proclaimed, cutting their yabbering off. “Ready! Set! Go!” Without delay, he blew his whistle.

Light indecision settled over most. Orbs awkwardly flitted across. Unlike many other final three challenges, they lacked a goal-point to run toward. Both Alessandro and Will grappled somewhat with organizing their respective helpers — trading unsure ganders.

Inevitably, someone's patience frayed.

“Why are we standing like idiots?” Gabby blurted, flinging her arms up. She flailed them wildly, facing the brickhouse and her fellow assistants. “Let's go! We've got to crush that model. He'd probably share some prize money with that spectacled scoundrel!” She stamped a foot. “WE CAN'T HAVE THAT!”

Without pause, she bolted into vegetation. For several moments, most gazed in the direction she'd gone. Her erratic behavior jolted everyone still…

Aside from Grett, of course. Used to her friend's antics — and aligning with her on this crusade — she turned her head away, a fond titter escaping her. By a stroke of luck, her orbs happened to alight upon the brickhouse's bleachers — a singular opportunity.

Eyes flicking aside, Fiore ascertained other occupants’ attention stayed on that exaggerated exit. Thus, she seized the opening. Locking eyes with Grett, she poked her temple, then pointed behind the bench-structure.

Slight puzzlement crossed Grett's face, but she masked it. Knowing Fiore, however, she reckoned it worth the time of day. Thus, she nodded. As others began refocusing on how to proceed, she returned her attention to that.

—Confessional :Fiore—

Shrugging, she propped her chin in her palm.

“Just because I wasn't allowed to be a helper, didn't mean I'd have to be an onlooker. It simply meant I needed to get creative in assisting, even if indirectly...” With a smirk, she prodded her noggin. “And if something should be etched into your moronic minds by now, it's me housing more grey mass than many adults on this show.”

—End Confessional—

Releasing a discomfitted breath, Alessandro clutched an elbow. “I… don't really want to go off on my own…” He conceded, gaze lowering shortly. “With Gabby running around, on a war-path, I don't think I'd manage to focus, knowing I might run into her…”

Truthfully, not his whole reason. Another major concern? Focus wavering. Amidst this maelstrom of misunderstandings and emotions, he handily viewed himself getting too immersed inwardly — losing track of time, maybe location, too. He didn't feel comfortable admitting that, though — not under these circumstances, at least.

“Lucky you, mate!” A posh, british accent severed those ruminations. The model's greyish-green orbs scorched up, right as Nick swaggered over. Pathetic as usual, the brit came way too close for comfort. “Let's partner up!”

Stumbling backward, Alessandro looped both arms around himself. “I…” That affluent man’s eyebrows wiggled his way. He winced. “I appreciate the consideration — really…” He grappled with breaking it to him in a well-mannered fashion.

“It's probably better for me to accompany Alessandro instead.” Blake interposed himself between them.

“Thank you.” Alessandro regarded the surfer appreciatively.

Blowing air indignantly, Nick predictably objected. “Oh, come on! What's the difference?” He insisted.

Drawing his modelesque buddy closer with one arm, Blake's eyes narrowed. Nick's reasoning for even advocating for Alessandro spelled out his intent. A scumbag requiring a reality-check. However, a tug on his sleeve prompted him to glance at his Italian friend, who shook his head.

Simmering down, Blake remembered they had a challenge to attend to. For its sake, he gulped down tirades, keeping it concise.

“We've interacted a lot through the season.” Blake pointed out. “Sorry, but I'm pretty sure I'm closer to him than you.” In turn, Alessandro merely nodded, uncomfortable with Nick's presence.

“I bet you aren't even a good-” Nick began retorting.

“We can't waste more time arguing. Time is ticking down.” Blake shut down, done with his nonsense. Dawdling no further, the pair set off.

“I'll be off, too.” Grett excused herself, whilst others spectated that spat. She purposefully skated past the brickhouse's bleachers. Wouldn't you know — Fiore managed to whisper another instruction while she passed. Pretending nothing went on, she forged into wilderness. At least, as far as others could discern.

—Confessional :Grett—

“As unfortunate as being unable to maybe team up with Gabby is, I know Fiore can be trusted here.” She mused.

—End Confessional—

“Maybe learn to recognize hints when they all but smack you across the face.” Karol shaded the blond brat. Dismissing his grouses, she moderated her nerves a smidge longer to cock her head aside. Though she'd set off by herself early, she considered possible intel opposition could let slip.

Tuning Nick out, she missed him quietening by himself. Both observed the remaining trio's exchange.

“As you peeps would say, time to put our foot in the gas.” Connor jested. He nudged Will's shoulder. “Let's get you to the final two, kiddo!” He started toward woodland.

“Wait…” Hunter called out, gaze momentarily flicking to a librarian's uncertain visage amongst bleachers. “Are you sure you can handle yourself alone?” His inquiry roused the brickhouse's compunction.

“Now that Hunter's mentioned it, that's a valid concern.” He concurred, proffering an accommodating palm. “Don't feel bad about getting one of us to accompany you.”

Glancing over his shoulder, the perfume-CEO waved off their fuss. “Truly, it's fine. Let's not complicate things. Don't want to fall behind now, do we?” Hastening, he evanesced into that wooded sea before either party could intervene.

—Confessional :Connor—

Inching onto his stump’s edge, he slung a leg atop it. That which endured the brunt of his final five All-Stars incident, to be exact. The present recorder appeared to elude cognition. Loosely clasping that ankle, he took an indrawn breath.

Though he'd rather not confess it aloud, the businessman regretted not letting that ambulance carry him off. Thankfully, he'd ceased dwelling on what-ifs as months elapsed. But an inner whisper still nagged him from time to time — how accepting defeat sooner, rather than trudge on another round, may have tipped fate against Riya, like he wanted.

Recollecting failures, both hands clenched into fists — too tight. A painful jolt punished that lower extremity, making him retract his hand.

He grimaced. Oh yeah. Undeniably, his fiasco with Riya was his flashiest blunder. However, the embarrassment that secretly inundated him over it engendered another mistake. Battling insecurity, he'd elected to ditch his ankle-cast after the motel episode — in spite of its prescription getting slated to last a while longer. The result? Complications, which he… again… wanted to hide…

Head snapping toward the lens — whatever he'd intended to say originally slipping away — he tensed.

“I can handle myself, really.” Cold perspiration accompanied this lame assertion.

—End Confessional—

“I hope he'll be okay…” Will remarked, rubbing the back of his head. Otherwise? Way to compound already existing guilt… Of course, that following observation stayed private. “Don't want him hurting himself, just because I selected him.”

Galvanizing him off contemplation with a hearty smack to the back, Hunter regarded him fiercely. “Hey, you made it this far for a reason — no getting downtrodden right at the final stretch.” He decreed. “I'll try and cover the area Connor's headed into, while you can go in the opposite direction. So, if anything happens, I'll be able to find him while garnering pamphlets. And you won't need to fret over that. Sound good?”

“Yeah…” Relieved — on that front, at least — the gentle giant offered an indebted smile. “Thanks, Hunter.”

“Anytime, man.”

Fist-bumping, the duo parted — jogging into that arboreal expanse on their scavenger hunt.

“Guess age has begun catching up stamina-wise.” Nick broke ensuing hushness swiftly. Taking a tentative step closer, he smirked haughtily. “I suppose it's long overdue, given your appearance and all.”

Head tilting his way, Karol sized him up. Really? Had this brat gotten that desperate for attention? Mere seconds later, she shook it. An exasperated breath left her — this time, sounding more as though an insignificant inconvenience faced her.

“You want to be useless one last time? Be my guest.” She rebuffed bluntly. “Maybe there'll be some pitiful niche circle to appreciate your consistency someday.” On that derisive note, she set off.

“Excuse me, old hag?!” He barked out, yet didn't stir even her usually short temper.

Nick looked at the bleachers. Non-participating former contestants regarded him with second-hand embarrassment, or schadenfreude. Chest twinging with an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint, he folded his arms, bridling.

“Ugh, whatever.” He disregarded, tone overly forceful. “As if I care… I don't!” With that, he stormed into the woods, just barely managing to recall what he intended to do. Who cared if that plot probably didn't make sense? Or wasn't worth the time-investment? He needed to blow steam!

Ensuring others were distracted in interactions, Fiore elbowed her newfound father. “Psh… Pass me a paper and pen, or something. I have stuff to jot down.” She whispered, before taking a gander over their fellow Will advocates. “Also, can you please keep others from seeing what I'm doing?” She added.

Arching an eyebrow, Alec hummed. Her conspiratorial cadence, coupled with that glint, said it all. She had some machination up her sleeve. The librarian folded his arms.

“You're not putting yourself at risk, right?” The librarian questioned. The whole reason he forbade her from volunteering was to keep her away from their host's potentially disastrous whims.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “I'm not, trust me. Not doing any work myself…” She assured. Without giving time to ponder, she clasped her hands together. “Come on, please?”

“No need to pretend around me.” Alec jested, releasing a weary, but fond sigh. Fumbling in his pocket, he fished both a pencil and a couple slips. Growing more cautious, he lowered his voice further. “Though, try and pretend you're doodling, if possible.”

Returning a mere nod, Fiore began on her note. In the interim, Alec crossed his arms casually. As requested, he kept a discreet eye on the rest.

___________

Leaves crunched under two pairs of feet. Their choice not to utilize a beaten path, though risky in regards to potential time wastage later on, did seem to benefit privacy — thus far, at least. Roaming about, one eventually halted their stroll.

“I see another one.” Blake notified. Ensuring the loot he'd garnered since they departed several minutes prior remained secure under one arm, he rushed a trunk — to which an adhesive band kept a pamphlet attached. Dislodging an edge, he swiped that strip off, just narrowly seizing its sheet, tucking it with the rest. He turned around, smiling encouragingly. “Let's keep the streak up!”

“Uh?” Alessandro emitted, starting. Awareness returned a split-second after. He'd zoned out… again. He'd been doing that quite a bit — as evident, considering his much thinner pamphlet bundle. Berating himself inwardly, he plastered on a smile in return. “Yeah, for sure. Thanks for helping out so much.”

Catching uncertainty within that reply, Blake's excitement dulled. Something gnawed at the model, he could tell. It didn't take much to infer what. Not wanting to get too pushy, the surfer had hoped the matter would arise naturally. By now, though…

“Before we move on, actually…” He commenced. Aiming to ease the other into canvass, he opted to apprise him of what he knew first. “At the motel, Fiore told me about what happened between my exit and hers.”

“Oh…” Alessandro's falsely brightened countenance faded. In spite of apprehension, he knew beating around the bush was pointless. Taking a cursory look across their surroundings to verify solitude, he heaved a tense puff. At least no one would eavesdrop, hopefully. “What exactly did she say?” He inquired.

“She told me about the rift between you and Dan, and getting you two to split votes — as well as Dan, in her words, ‘wailing that he had voted her’ once votes were announced…” Blake summarized, discomfort lacing the latter half of his explanation.

“He… did that?” Alessandro murmured, blinking with befuddlement. Due to his knee-jerk reaction to attaining three votes, he missed that display. “Hearing I received three votes yesterday… I didn't want to deal with the sting with everyone else around, so I started back to camp immediately…” He conceded.

Given his absence amidst that breakdown, the possibility of Dan farming sympathy — which he couldn't help but already doubt, regardless — went down significantly. So, why exactly did he…

“This may just be a hunch, for now, but…” Blake interjected, regaining the model's attention. “I think a certain someone might have rigged the votes.”

Dots connecting — more than his surfer buddy would be privy to, currently — mortification assailed Alessandro's mind.

“You're probably right…” It dawned on him, head drooping. “And I let that host potentially ruin our friendship…” His eyes watered. How could he mess up so horribly? “I'm such an idiot-”

“You're not.” Accompanying this assertion, Blake's unconstrained arm coiled round his waist, drawing him close. “What happened yesterday may be a misunderstanding, but Dan's prior actions? Though in the spirit of this game, they damaged your trust in him then. Going behind our backs doesn't make Dan bad. But it's not your fault you didn't trust his word over the vote count, either.” He assured.

Moments later, Alessandro finally parted from his grasp. “Thanks, Blake…” Sighing, his gaze drifted aside. “Still, do you think things between me and Dan are fixable? He seemed… distant, when I tried conversing a few times today. He said he doesn't want us getting distracted mid-game, but… I'm worried it's more than that.” He admitted.

“Do you want to reconcile?” Blake questioned. Although he could guess the answer, he'd rather hear it directly.

Without missing a beat, Alessandro nodded.

“Even with all the new baggage, I do.” He avowed. Heart clenching, he jerked his head back to stare into the surfer's orbs. “But what if it's too late?”

“If you don't try, it won't matter whether or not it's too late, will it?” Blake reminded, planting a palm on his shoulder. His assuring countenance grew rather sheepish. “And while it may not be much, you can count on me sticking by you — it's… the least I can do.”

Rubbing away tears — and reposing his few sheets on a nearby stump — Alessandro embraced the surfer. For several moments, he soaked in the promised support, allaying his concerns greatly. Filling him with conviction. Then? He withdrew at last.

“We should continue searching — I want to obtain some more pamphlets myself, before we return and deposit them.” He admitted, retrieving and tucking his limited loot under his arm again.

Pleased with that reignited drive, Blake responded with a thumbs-up, smirking. Way behind the model, however, he spotted a trunk he'd once recklessly unloaded his rage upon. Forging on alongside his friend, even without calling attention to it, he found himself somewhat emotional over that sight.

—Confessional :Blake—

“Might be odd of me to say, with my surfer shtick and all. But it's kind of… I don't know, fitting? That we returned there, just us both again.” Did it sound stupid? Perhaps. Did he care? Not really.

Crossing his arms, his face fell momentarily.

“Sometimes, I do wonder what would have happened, had Alessandro not approached me at that moment. We probably would still become allies. And I prefer thinking we would eventually grow close, nonetheless, but…” Trailing off, he shook his head.

“Glad things went how they did. And I hope Alessandro and Dan can say the same, once this is all over.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Rip Rip Rip

Hunter almost bristled at how thoroughly he found himself acing this challenge. Its gathering portion, anyway. Inspired by Ally's strategy games, he channeled his inner tactician; pinpointing a trail, and not straying too far off it. Despite preventing deeper expedition into vegetation, it kept him from wandering in circles — thus, perks outweighed drawbacks.

It wasn't as though he struggled to discover pamphlets. Maybe he'd just gotten lucky with the zone? Not complaining.

Perhaps in a silly display, this fortune bummed him out slightly. Why wasn't this used earlier? Preferably, with him still in the running. However, it soon dawned on him how, unless it took the final eight round's place precisely, would results really change that much?

“At least Tess, Ally and I spent proper time together at the motel this season.” He mused, shrugging off those pointless what-ifs. Who knew? Had he gotten further, hardship could have struck again, negatively affecting how he handled their relationship. Their newfound arrangement fulfilled him so much, that prospect drowned out gripes regarding his in-game misfortune.

Motions verging on the automatic, Hunter barely registered footfalls. However, the unannounced thud that capped them seized his cynosure — halting him in his tracks.

Overhearing groaning nearby, his eyes widened. That depth and slight raspiness — of all fellows scattered about woodland, it fit a single individual. Inwardly, his last exchange with a certain brickhouse looped once. Scanning his vicinity, Hunter hurried deeper into uncharted territory — hastily taking note of his path, so as not to lose sight of the trail.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Sounds as though letting Connor go off alone really was a bad idea.” He presumed, tapping a foot idly. Shaking his head, he kept a resolute expression. “Made a promise, though — and I won't break it. I'll just have to compensate for whatever's up with him.”

—End Confessional—

Gritting his teeth, Connor suppressed another groan. Leaves prickled his forearms and legs, not alleviating his smarting ankle — that which his extant stubbornness impeded the healing of about a year ago. Fortunately, it hadn't refractured. Unfortunately, spraining wasn't off the table yet.

In his disorderly endeavor to scrounge coveted leaflets, absent caution allowed an exposed root to cost him his footing. With his compromised ankle facing some of the subsequent impact.

“Come on, Connor — don't become a liability.” He berated himself, bunching a fist with a scowl.

He could just imagine Riya- No, not relapsing into that mindset. Pivoting to a desire to make Anya proud, he simmered down slightly. Letting adrenaline pilot him could complicate simple greatly. Planting a palm against the trunk beside him, he elevated himself afoot, grunting.

“Connor, are you okay?” The sudden interjection jolted the CEO, nearly making him trip on the stone. Fortunately, however, Hunter rushed into his line of sight, grabbing his arm to steady him.

Bewilderment receded swiftly, as Connor tested his lower extremity, which ceased to ache. Relieved not to feel much beyond the ordinary, he plastered on a congenial grin — inwardly, hoping it sufficed to allay concerns right off the bat.

“Oh, just a little slip-up and tumble.” He soft-pedaled.

Bending over, Connor gathered what loot had scattered upon his fall. Arising to address Hunter — who briefly could have sworn he heard rustling nearby — his orbs roved over that considerable stack tucked under his paler, yet nevertheless sturdy arm. Comparing that to his own measly results, inadequacy inevitably welled within. Regardless, he tried maintaining good vibes.

“Seems someone's been quite successful.”

Chalking that faint noise up to imagination, Hunter chuckled. “Thanks, man.”

“Don't sweat it. I'm just pointing it out, no need to thank me.” Connor praised. Guiding their exchange to a hopefully adequate ending point, he went to seize it. “I should be off now. Don't want to slow down. And I'd hate to break your streak, too. Good luck.” Once he turned tail, though, his wrist got clasped.

“Wait!” Hunter switched tunes. “Will was pretty worried about you, actually. And I assured him I'd look out for you, in case anything happened.” He confessed.

“What?” Connor whipped around to consider him with baffled eyes, freeing his wrist with a flick — given the other had already loosened his hold over it. “Why?” Shaking his head, agitation surfaced to a degree. “I told you both not to worry!”

Hunter flinched. Since All-Stars, Connor hadn't really gotten heated. Those amongst both casts who saw him as a mentor figure? They did so for a reason. Beholding him so quickly drop his cool — without genuine provocation, mind you — staggered Hunter a bit.

Hunter held up both hands.

“Trust me, I remember — and Will certainly does, too. Settle down, dude.” He insisted, prompting the other to process his attitude and relax lightly. Seeing the CEO placated, he proceeded. “But… um… you seemed quite a bit adamant then — even more so, just now.” He pointed out. “It's… concerning…”

“I…” Connor faltered, unable to argue back. Yet again, something he'd overlooked in the moment seemed blatant in hindsight — this time, within the span of less than an hour. Hesitation shone through, impossible to miss.

“Is something going on?” Hunter queried, arching an eyebrow. Neither distinguished sounds from nearby bramble, too engrossed. Facing fraught silence, he prodded further. “Is it… related to… needing to stick it to Riya?” He conjectured. Despite the actress getting nothing beyond a cameo — coinciding with Hunter's own elimination episode, funnily enough — this guess was as good as any.

Eyes widening, Connor vehemently wriggled his head. “God, no!” He blurted, startling him. Taking a deep breath, he recuperated some composure. Mulling over, he grimaced. “I mean… perhaps, to an extent?” At the subsequent look he received, he rushed to elaborate. “Don't worry, I've moved on from her entirely — Anya…” Fond recollections provided him momentary respite. “Is an amazing partner. I'd never choose Riya over her.”

“Then…” Hunter trailed off, flummoxed.

Heaving a charged puff, Connor grappled with articulating his thought process.

“It's just… I wanted my last outing on this show — no matter how small — to be something I could take pride in.” He avowed, hand raking across his greyish hair. “I've gotten past Riya herself… but not the fact I indirectly enabled her to win, to an extent…”

Tears rimming his sockets, he futilely brushed at them. Tried restraining them. No dice. Too late to jerk his head away — Hunter already got more than enough time to contemplate those watery orbs. Just like that, his resolve crumbled.

“Damn it…” Connor lamented, despondent. How stupid was he? Believing this would lead to anything beyond further embarrassment? “When Will was checking for volunteers, I jumped at the chance. Somehow, I thought I'd manage to leave a good impression in the finale… I'm just making a fool of myself, aren't I?” Sullenness pervaded his tone.

Inspecting what little fruit his labor yielded, Connor let loose a wretched breath. Refocusing on Hunter, he thrust them into his chest.

“Here… I don't trust myself not to lose them on the way back.” Connor mumbled, shoulders slumped. Rubbing his elbow, he regarded the male apologetically. “If you stumble into Will before me, please, tell him I'm sorry for wasting a slot…” Beginning to walk past, however, he was detained again.

“You don't need to give up!” Hunter exclaimed, gripping his shoulder. “Just because you can't do as well, doesn't mean you're useless. And I wouldn't want to make you quit, especially if you'd feel like you failed while doing so.”

The CEO quirked a brow, confounded. “But… didn't you approach me because you and Will were concerned about me participating?” He mentioned, lightly shrugging the palm off.

True… Hunter conceded inwardly, adding the extra supply onto his own. Both did raise issues with him roaming these woods on his own. To be frank, it wouldn't seem out of left-field, if Will would rather see Connor retreat — though, more from personal responsibility than judgment. Even so, assessing the older man's disposition, it didn't sit right with Hunter.

Humming, a compromise suddenly struck him.

“Actually, how about we pair up?” Hunter concluded. “I can still carry quite a few more of these before I need to go deposit it all, so we may as well keep searching.” He canvassed.

Processing that suggestion, Connor squinted, unsure. “Um… why?” He questioned, folding his arms. “I'd probably only slow you down-”

Smacking the man's chest, Hunter butted in. “Nonsense. It's not a race, going too fast just causes you to miss stuff, anyway.” He countered. “Besides, I have a plan. While I collect pamphlets, you could keep watch. That way, no one with funny ideas sneaks up on us.”

Deliberating over that proposition, Connor perked up.

“What do you say?” Hunter proffered a hand, beaming.

Eyeballing it, Connor eventually took a deep breath and clasped it. “Alright!” He concurred, confidence seeping back, despite uncertainty clinging on. No matter — he'd endured that disheartening spell. Hunter didn't distrust his ability to fan that spark back into crackling flames.

“That's the spirit!”

—Confessional :Connor—

“Still a bit unsure now, but…” Clenching his fists, drive peeked through slightly. “I don't want to fully throw the towel yet.”

—End Confessional—

Shortly after both resumed their expedition, a nearby thorny shrub rattled more violently. Exasperated grumbles followed, their volume kept low only because of the threat of detection.

Moments later, Karol crawled out at last, hair matted. Gashes riddled her attire, thanks to how often fabric snagged — throughout her grueling struggle to escape that bush, which she'd attempted to screen herself with. The things she endured for her plots.

Speaking of…

Scuttling behind a trunk, she spied on that newly-minted duo. Evaluating this development, umbrage bubbled. Gnashing her teeth, she narrowly curbed an infuriated screech.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Of all people — it just had to be that crippled geezer. That-”

Gulping down a vitriolic tsunami, she snarled, compacting her hands. Despite bordering on another ebullition, she successfully staved it off. Letting free a prolonged exhale, she rolled her eyes.

“I was following that air-brained emo in hopes of snatching the loot off him right before he could reach the glade. Kill two birds with one stone — clinch points for my side, while stifling the other's progress.” She delineated. “But with that embarrassing man traveling alongside him…”

Plonking both fists onto her lap, her gaze flamed with conviction.

“You know what? Screw it — I've sunk too much time into this. I'll find an opening, and make those two eat dirt at some point!”

—End Confessional—

___________

Zooming back into uncluttered terrain, Gabby cackled. Nearly relinquishing her grasp upon the pamphlet-jumble hugged against her torso, she stabilized. Nevertheless, a grin stretched across her face, as she rushed further in.

“Look at that, first deposit. And seems Gabby here got lucky, wherever she went.” Brian Smith's smarmy cadence dampened her mood significantly. Her beloved partner nearly perished within his show, after all.

Dumping that heap she amassed onto the brickhouse's pail, however, sent another surge of dopamine through her. She couldn't wait to see Dan's reaction, once his model buddy was toast. Furthermore, she couldn't wait to rub in that scoundrel's inevitable loss.

That weasel would reap what he sowed, she guaranteed…

Over at the bleachers, the youngest contestant observed with intrigue. Clutching a completed slip tighter, it soon gave way to a scheming smirk.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“To be honest, I'm not fully sure the host will care that much, even if he caught us right now.” She stated, before folding her arms with a shrug. “For the sake of precaution, though, I think I know a perfect distraction.”

—End Confessional—

“Come on, Gabby!” Fiore gave a faux cheer, earning a stifled chuckle from her adoptive father. “I'm sure that, if Will wins, he'll help you sue that ugly host for what happened to Ellie, too!”

“What?!” Halting, Gabby sent a mortified gaze, disbelieving her audacity to broach that sensitive subject yet again. “Why would you-”

“Who the hell are you calling ugly, you brat?!” Brian Smith hollered, louring. “Your biological parents disowned you for a reason, clearly!”

Tugging at Alec's wrist to curb his expected defensive response, Fiore sneered — keeping down a giggle, as Gabby stayed rooted in place. “At least I have a functioning mind.” She goaded, sneered at the host. “Have fun dealing with litigation, because your laziness got someone mauled.”

“As if!” Brian Smith flared up, none-the-wiser. Forgetting a certain tree-lover's presence, he doubled down. “You think I neglected the fine-print? Please! She'll be laughed off court, and told to return to the homeless community-”

CRACK

Something rammed into his face, nose crooking off its typical position, spurting crimson. Stumbling backward — with only the mess-hall wall saving him from falling — his cognition lagged briefly.

“W-What?” He churned out, reeling. Once pain registered, he gasped, covering his broken snoot. Amidst his dizziness, he didn't overhear nearing footfalls. “The fuck-?” A slap tossed his head right, cutting him off.

Expression contorted with unadulterated odium, Gabby seized his collar — hateful eyes locking onto his.

“Say that again, I fucking dare you!” She hissed.

“You…” He stammered, eyes flitting across the spectating crowd. None showed inclination to interfere. Regardless, he tried reasserting authority. “Y-You… I can charge you for assault!” He threatened.

“Are you serious?” Tess butted into their exchange, standing from her seat — her disgusted eyes fixed onto the host. “After your negligence nearly cost Ellie her life? And you were just rubbing it in?!” Her rising volume shocked many.

“Tess…” Ally commenced, somewhat unneeded.

“Sorry, but this is ridiculous. And Ellie is my friend. I'm not backing down.” Tess told her girlfriend, before glaring back at the host. “You think we can't do anything to you? How about we call you out for the monster you are?!”

“You have no leverage to make people turn on me-”

“You've been constantly insulting some of us.” Ally suddenly hopped to her girlfriend's defense. “I'm assuming you'd edit that out later, but trust me. Just the stuff featured on that early cut we occasionally got to see at the motel? Just the nasty ways you've occasionally referred to Alessandro lately would get others outraged.”

“That-”

“You basically revoking my and Will's chance at immunity within the final eight, because the stage collapsed due to your incompetence and cheapness.” Fiore inputted, preferring not to dwell on what he subjected her to last round.

“Shut your mouth, you-”

“How about the simulation you subjected the final ten to?” Alec retorted, not about to tolerate this skeevy presenter belittling his newfound daughter further. “You had each scenario designed to put them through hell, didn't you?”

“That's not-”

“I got chased, my mouth sewn shut, and stuck into a guillotine!” Fiore spat.

“You-”

“Thinking about it again, how terrible do you have to be?” With his husband's adoring arms wrapped round his waist for comfort, Tom stared the host down. “You purposefully dropped each of us somewhere created solely to torment us, personally.” He jabbed a finger toward him. “You think it was funny?! Believing everyone saw me as a freak, due to my scars.”

“And that's not even mentioning how he messed with your and Hunter's mind.” Jake suddenly reminded him. Shooting daggers at the vile, broken-nosed individual, he addressed him directly.

By now, Brian Smith's head lolled. Clinging onto stubbornness, but unable to refute their points, he resorted to petulant silence. This obstinance nettled Gabby, and she wound her fist once more.

However, Tess raised an arm. Leveling an earnest gaze her way, she got her to reconsider yet again. Not for Brian Smith's sake. Hell no. She just didn't want Gabby potentially screwing her own life up — that degenerate host certainly wasn't worth.

Apart from that, she also knew what would put him firmly in his place.

“Do you know how horrible depression is?” She inquired, lowering her voice. Disdain laced every syllable, though. “How broken a person can become due to it? How many lives it… snuffs out?” Flumping back onto her seat, she carried on. “Before meeting Hunter, Ally… before getting a support system, I longed for- for it all to end…”

Heart wrenching, Ally planted a palm on her shoulder. “Tess…”

Cynosure locked onto that wretched man, the artist took a deep breath before resuming. “And, purely for the sake of ratings, you forced me to experience them all turning against me…” She condemned quietly. “Did you ever consider what you were doing? Using the faces of those close to me to affirm every fear I used to have?”

No response.

“...As expected — you don't care.” Tess called out. Balling her fists, she narrowed her gaze. “But I know many who watch will.”

Brian Smith groaned, his inability to merely evade consequences through influence this time inescapable. Relenting chagrined him profusely, but he bit down his disgruntlement, convincing himself those future jobs were worth it.

“F-Fine, w-whatever…” His captor rammed him into that coarse surface behind him. The message rang clear — he'd need a little more than that to cut it. Swallowing his pride for a moment, he strained out a better response. “I'm… ugh… sorry for bringing what happened up, and getting so disrespectful. It… won't repeat, I swear.”

After debating whether or not to accept that plainly forced apology, Gabby begrudgingly released him — taking multiple steps back, as he flopped onto the ground.

“Watch yourself…” She admonished, before departing to continue foraging for pamphlets.

Hauling his trembling self afoot, Brian Smith panted. His heart palpitated from the ordeal. That… damn psycho! Gliding a thumb right under his skewed nostrils, he hissed. He couldn't present this programme — especially its very finale — looking like this! Hopefully, his make-up would suffice to cover it up.

Scanning those countless uncaring — perhaps even satisfied — eyes, he grimaced. Ingrates, all of them.

“I'll be back soon. All rules still apply. Do not leave your seats.” He instructed, scampering inside the building without checking their response.

With him off sight, the spectators broke into multiple small groups — each engaged in their own discussion, or reflection, over what transpired. This focused whispering and intrapersonal contemplation captured most attention.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“Didn't expect things to escalate that much.” She confessed. Nevertheless, her lips soon curled. “Though, I'd wager I'm far from the only one satisfied to see that asshole put in his place, for once. Him clearly being offended no one stood up for him, too. That audacity…”

She shook her head, focusing.

“It had the intended effect regardless, I guess.”

—End Confessional—

During that controlled commotion, a romper-dress-wearing figure exited the shade. Creeping up from behind the bleachers, she snuck to Fiore's end of the structure.

Without dawdling, the young girl fished a slip off her pocket, letting it fall onto the woman's open palm. Giving a nod, the other retreated into wooded cover.

—Confessional :Grett—

“Overhearing that whole ordeal… it was hard to not leap out and clock that dumbass excuse of a host.” A smirk swiftly broke her dour countenance. “But, seeing him get humbled hard is enough to mostly satisfy me.”

She sighed. “Still wish I could give him a piece of my mind for what the bullshit he spouted, but what can you do?” She dangled the note she just received. “Just hope this is worth it.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Flicking a plastic bottle — retrieved from a small cooler sitting on the wooden barrier delineating a makeshift arena — the water within sloshed, gleaming with sun-rays. Despite stilling shortly, it lamentably seemed to hold more life than its watcher.

“Almost there…” Dan mused, absent-mindedly observing that liquid's placid state. He lounged on turf — its sun-induced coziness doing nothing to cheer him up. Lips jettisoning a miserable expulsion, he shook his head.

Why even hope it would, anyway? Such notions weren't just ludicrous, but arguably conceited. As much as he fought for his own stance, he'd screwed up incessantly, hadn't he? Alessandro reached out to him at the start, stuck by his side throughout this whole journey… And he went behind his back to dispose of Blake — for what? He'd convinced himself it was for strategy, but really… jealousy played such a significant role. In hindsight, though he hadn't viewed it that way, Dan realized he'd tried hoarding Alessandro's friendship…

Hugging himself, Dan's expression grew grimmer. Recollecting their situation, he looked more and more bullheaded. A mere two ceremonies preceding his betrayal, Blake played his totem on him. Back then, he perceived Alessandro and Blake growing closer as a duo, stirring concern. Now? He feared he could have gotten two friends, yet misconception led him to throwing it all away…

A tear trickled down his cheek.

Why didn't he try harder to communicate with either? To get to the bottom of this, before paranoia enabled recklessness? Gaze lowering, he whimpered. Why would Alessandro forgive him after that?

Expelling a shaky intake, he took another sip off his bottle. With that, he curbed those tears before he broke down. Nothing he could feasibly do now, except hope for the win, and refuse to let others make this pain worse. Even so…

Tilting his head to contemplate the trail he'd hailed from, he still hoped a certain Italian would emerge. Even with their baggage, seemingly eviscerated fellowship, and possible heartache taking him on might entail, Dan prayed to see Alessandro advance onto the final stage alongside him.

Please…

___________

Curse this wretched flora!

Nick Milton gritted his teeth, pulling at his tuxedo. A low branch snagged its hem. Must have been around the tenth time such occurred. Ratty ‘natural’ growths — if such nuisances were intended as part of existence, then thank goodness he was born in modern society — hounded his garb every minute.

Mustering what strength he had, he tugged sharply.

“Come on, you bloody-” The article came free suddenly, propelling him backward. Hitting the prickly ground, he growled. Pulling himself afoot, a gander at his suit worsened his mood. On top of accumulated filth, an abhorrent gash now marred the cashmere. “Damn it…”

Loathing this challenge, Nick snarled and forged on. That model better appreciate his assistance once all was said and done! Otherwise- actually, no. Though he saw no worth without incentive, he wouldn't advocate for that cowardly brickhouse. Actually, he'd side with most people against Will.

Why? To guarantee his girlfriend never saw a single penny. Who did she think she was — lecturing him over matters she didn't understand?! What right did she have to dissect his family life, as though she knew him thoroughly?! Spoiler-alert; she knew squat.

“So… how have things been going between you, Ally and Tess?”

Snapping off rancorous rumination, Nick did a double-take. Though faint, he'd clearly heard that voice. Its tone didn't help his mood. Once the speaker proceeded, he apprehended why.

“I was… busy helping Alec with stuff regarding Fiore and all, you know? So, I never took the time to look into you three.” That awkward, boomer chuckle grated on his nerves. Just now noticing the beaten path up ahead, he scuttled behind a trunk — not pressing against its bark, in a vain attempt to keep his sullied garb from deteriorating further.

Trees, shrubbery and undergrowth intervened between his location and that trail, obfuscating a large chunk. Squinting, however, he discerned two figures entering the scene. As suspected, that ancient CEO was one of them, chatting away with that pale guy — Hunter, was it? — who strayed to retrieve something.

Inferring they were collecting pamphlets as a duo, Nick's goal occurred to him again. Exasperation receding for now, he cracked a smirk — ears not catching faint rustling that approached.

—Confessional :Nick—

“Though this trek has been much filthier than I'd expected…” He muttered. He'd forgotten how much he loathed Tipiskaw at times — whatever. A dastardly grin broke his scowl. “My ingenious plot shall proceed without a hitch.”

Folding his arms, he oozed self-satisfaction — as though about to pioneer strategy with what he disclosed next.

“Why fetch anything like a dog, when I can just confiscate those imbeciles’ findings?” He snickered. “That way, I shall not only score, but punish that insolent geezer, too. I just need to go and…”

Trailing off, his hand fell onto his stump's side. Face scrunching, his pupils darted about, avoiding the lens. Emitting indistinct grumbles, his expression grew more troubled each moment. His fingers drummed on wood — their speed picking up in tandem with his annoyance and agitation.

Shaking his head, he waved it off with a scoff.

“Why ruin the surprise for you, plebeians?” He strained on a self-assured grin. “Just watch…”

—End Confessional—

One step.

A hand seized his wrist, preventing him from moving farther. Without allowing him the slightest chance to break free, the unannounced third-party pulled him back into cover, forcing him onto his knees.

Instinct unfastened his mouth, a protest careening… not fast enough. A palm clamped over it, hushing his indignation.

“I'm not letting your stupidity ruin my chances, too.” Another recognizable voice hissed lowly, its owner staring daggers into his eyes, which widened. Adrenaline and shade blurred that visage temporarily, but he'd identify those middle-aged, irritable features and haircut from a mile away. “Now… quit struggling.” Karol admonished.

Despite scorning her presence, yesterday's fracas wracked his memory. Shivering upon recollecting how far she could stoop when feeling wronged, attempting to retaliate appeared preposterous — even to him.

Ashamedly, he complied with her demand, stilling.

“Now…” She proceeded, glower unwavering. “I'm going to take my hand off. Try anything, or speak too loud, and you're dead, got it?” She instructed. Her cadence showcased no hesitation, no leniency.

Swallowing an urge to yell at her, Nick inclined his head. Sure enough, she retracted her hand.

“Did you need to yank me without warning?” He grumbled. “Roaming this filthy place isn't great already, you know?” He jabbed a finger toward that dirtpath, wherein both figures lingered, collecting more pamphlets. “Besides, I'm trying to ambush those morons, so-”

She held up a hand, interrupting him with an eye-roll. “If you haven't noticed, it seems we had similar ideas.” Sizing him up, she frowned. “Except you don't seem to know a thing about caution.” She chastised.

Nostrils flaring, Nick glared. Who did this wrinkly witch think she was?! To diss him, Nick Milton?! He wouldn't stand this! He opened his mouth, ready to holler.

“Remember my warning,” Karol hissed through gritted teeth. She couldn't believe she needed to squander time on this buffoon.

Folding his arms, Nick jerked his head away. Her being correct pissed him off further. She was such a nuisance, yet he couldn't properly vent his umbrage. Then again, he remembered, in a scenario with nothing constraining him, she would doubtless make him regret it.

Frustration accumulating, his gaze flicked down to inspect himself again. His grimace deepened over how much the environment had tarnished his opulent wear — impudent wooden juts leaving notches, and grime clinging onto some edges. Revolting.

Recollecting his brief exchange with Alessandro — before Blake butted in to pair up with that model — exacerbated his mood. As much as his arrogance didn't want him to admit defeat, the Italian clearly wasn't interested. So…

“You know what? Fine, those two are all years to deal with.” Nick groaned, fed up. At her quizzical stare, he rolled his eyes. “I'm done. Anything I try doing around this filthy place fails — I'm sick and tired. I should've stayed home, instead of coming here, trying to prove something-” Before he could rise to set off back to the glade — assuming he recalled the way there — his wrist got captured once more.

“You're not going anywhere.” Karol upbraided, keeping him from standing upright. Gears had begun turning within her head, and she wouldn't allow the chance to slip away.

Oblivious to any of that, Nick gnashed his teeth.

“Oh, give me a break, mate.” He snapped lowly. “I know you don't give a single damn about me. In fact, shouldn't you be happy not to need to deal with me any longer? Why would you suddenly begin caring?”

—Confessional :Karol—

Straddling her stump — a hand on either hip — she groaned, vexed. Why did fate deal her that insufferable, incompetent elitist? Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. She'd have to make it work.

“For once, that spoiled-rotten noggin of his deduced something correctly.” She scoffed. “His presence irks me to no end. No matter how many times it blows up in his face, he keeps thinking he can get away with shit-talking people like…”

Swallowing her invective before she spiraled into a full-blown rant, she smacked a hand onto her forehead, elbow propped on her leg.

“Regardless, I need some assistance here.” She relented, ticked off by her own admission. “The longer I watch the other two idiots, the clearer it becomes that whatever opening I'm hoping for won't come. Trying to steal from both on my own won't work…”

—End Confessional—

Orbs flicking to that dirtpath, Karol squinted to watch both unaware figures forge on. Once sure they were off earshot, she cuffed Nick across the cheek. Even then, she exercised much restraint, relative to how much his whining grated on her nerves.

“Ow-” He winced, barely managing to keep his volume down. Running his fingers over the slightly reddened patch, he scowled. “What the hell was that for?” He hissed.

“To make you snap off your bullshit.” Karol asserted bluntly. Seizing his collar, she tugged him so close, their noses nearly touched. Her smoldering glare bore into him, daunting his own. “Listen here, I don't give a crap about you. But you've butted in here, so you don't get to waltz off now. Not when, after being a nuisance repeatedly, this is the one time you might be useful…”

Her diatribe sent tremors across Nick's figure. Despite enduring her ire countless times within that motel — practically all incurred by his own demeanor, though he refused to concede such — it never failed to render him aghast. Terrified as he was, however, he wouldn't stand down and take her attitude.

“O-Oh… shall you give me a lecture about how I apparently don't have problems, just because my family is rich?” He accused, eliciting a quirked eyebrow from her. “If so, save it. Someone else harangued me about that months ago…” Bitterness seeped into that last sentence.

In turn, Karol deadpanned. “Good news for you, then.” She snarked, increasing the distance between them. “I won't presume crap about that. You know why?” Without awaiting response, she went on, outspoken. “Because I don't care enough to speculate.”

At those words, Nick stared indecisively. On one hand, such nonchalance and disregard for his personal affairs should have affronted him. On the other? Indifference did beat whatever the hell that cow-girl went for. However, she snipped his ponderations short.

“So, will you finally get over yourself and cooperate?” She snarled.

“A-Again…” Nick commenced, even less certain now. “What's the point?” He challenged. Feeling her grip tighten, he screwed his eyes shut, bracing for further squawking — or perhaps another, harsher hit.

“Hmph!”

To Nick's bewilderment, Karol released him. Didn't throw him down, or slam him. No. The haughty male merely felt her relinquish her hold. Unfastening his eyes, he took in her countenance, as she folded her arms. Contempt permeated her features, but not that typical, loud sort she exuded. It vibed disappointment more than direct rage.

“Guess you've really yielded, huh?” She observed, shaking her head. “Now, of all times.” Allowing him no chance to chime in, she added. “Guess Connor really is getting one over you… again.”

“Huh…” Nick stammered, grappling with a sudden mixture of shock and umbrage. “Excuse me? What did you say?” He prodded.

Quirking an eyebrow, Karol held back a smirk. “You heard me.” She stated. “Even though they're not in sight anymore, I've caught onto their pattern. They're sticking to that trail nearby.” She elucidated, before motioning to him censoriously. “If we're smart about this, we could teach their asses a lesson.”

Averting her gaze, she waved a dismissive hand.

“But if you want to let Connor's decrepit ass win again, be my guest.” She goaded.

Nick Milton's eye twitched, fists curling. He recalled that insolent CEO constantly defying him through his single-day-long stay. Even worse, intimidating him into not even venting his outrage at getting booted first that wretched nightfall.

His brief defeatist spell dissipated. He might have loathed previous interactions with the middle-aged hag before him; however, that resentment paled in comparison to his rage upon envisioning that shades-donning fossil triumphing again. Thus, he shot a resolute glare at the woman.

“Fine.” He spat, prompting her to refocus on him. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

A wicked grin stretched across Karol's visage.

___________

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

How unlucky must one be? To select such a poor starting point? Not a single pamphlet breached his field of view. As frantically as he scoured the land. And he did put in effort! Really!

Slowing to a halt by an oak, Will heaved an enervated puff. Leaning into it, his shoulders slumped solemnly. Roaming this sprawling, natural maze alone gave him time to ruminate. Too much time, he'd say.

Despite his best endeavors, he couldn't brush off that compunction. Its razor-sharp claws dug into his psyche, unwilling to let go or even loosen. Ridiculous? Perhaps. Yet, he couldn't elude it. Theorizing further, he conjectured magnitude played a huge role in compounding his contrition.

Dwelling over how… erratic a peculiar spectacled geek wound up, his fists tightened — a lump congealing in his throat. Should he return to the clearing to try and group with Hunter? Sighing, he shook his head. He'd likely need to wait a while, and wasting so much time was ludicrous.

Composing himself as best he could, he pushed himself back upright trudged on.

—Confessional :Will—

Looping his arms round himself, he slouched, consternation permeating his expression.

“Despite trying to stay motivated, I can't get it off my head.” He confessed, restless and bewildered. “Why did I ever think keeping Dan's outburst under wraps was a good idea? Ugh…” Palms smacking onto his lap, he released a flagging expulsion. “I wish I could just fess up… now…” He admitted.

—End Confessional—

Rip

Hearing tape tear, Will stopped in his tracks. Although he didn't quite vibe with the notion of getting into physical altercations with others for their loot — whether stemming from friendship or discomfort — he pegged it best to remain aware. Even without pamphlets of his own yet, he figured remaining in the dark was foolish.

Steeling his resolve, he followed the noise of rustling and chatting. Voices growing clearer as he drew closer, he noted how familiar they sounded. However, he didn't risk assuming. Scruples might be inducing his ears to trick him, he reasoned. Nearing the source, he edged toward dense bushes, wanting to glimpse the unknown parties from there.

Between contrition and unrest, Will's vigilance waned. Combined with a mixture of fallen foliage and underbrush, which smothered the potentially treacherous terrain? A mere foot from his intended hiding place, his sneaker struck something mid-traipse. Too embroiled in turmoil, reflexes failed him and he crashed onto it.

“Crap!” Fraught adrenaline overrode desires for covertness — which likely would've foundered, even without him shouting, given his loud tumble — as he found himself briefly enmeshed in that thicket. Predictably approaching footsteps stoked his agitation to a point verging on panic. Threshing about a moment, he finally disentangled himself from the shrub, thudding backward onto his bum — clothes banged up a decent bit.

“Will?” That surfer cadence confirmed suspicions the brickhouse had dismissed as wishful thinking seconds prior. “Are you doing okay?” Caution tinged his tone — given the current challenge, such was expected — but concern prevailed.

Head tilting in the direction sound hailed from, Will saw Blake and Alessandro come over — both carrying a good amount of those coveted sheets, the former especially. Their eyes roved over his downed figure, gauging his condition. It prompted him to follow suit, cheeks flushing at how he must've looked.

“Yeah, I'm fine…” Hauling himself afoot, yet keeping distance, he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Heard sound around here, and didn't know it was you guys. I was trying to hide to get a look… sorry about that.” Hard as he tried, he kept sneaking glances toward the model standing behind the Hawaiian-shirted man.

These minute gestures didn't go unnoticed, as Blake quirked an eyebrow. Perceiving something off, he shot his partner a quizzical look, allotting authority on what they should do.

Unbeknownst to either him or the brickhouse, the delectable male harbored questions himself. Emboldened through his earlier heart-to-heart with his wave-loving buddy, Alessandro took a deep breath, holding out his share of pamphlets toward Blake.

“Could you go deposit it all?” He requested. “I… think Will and I have some stuff to discuss.” The brickhouse, who had been awkwardly shuffling before them briefly, seized up hearing that.

Though intrigued, Blake didn't press for specifics. Whatever matters lurked between those two, they doubtless necessitated privacy to properly sort it out. Besides, with how enlivened his Italian friend seemed following their discussion, he wholeheartedly trusted him to handle this.

“Alright.” Blake concurred, accepting the cargo. Given how many sheets he'd need to carry, he ditched tucking them underarm. Instead, he hugged the loot against his torso. “Should we regroup later?” He queried.

With a quiet hum, Alessandro shook his head. “No need. I think I'll try collecting alone for however long is left…” Trailing off, he smiled gratefully. “Thanks for accompanying me until now, Blake.”

Grinning back proudly, the surfer gave a thumbs-up. “Again, I'm the one indebted to you.” He assured. “Good luck.” Bidding him a temporary farewell, he set off.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Upper limbs coiled around himself, he considered the lens staunchly.

“I was… wondering if something was up with Will…” Shifting within his stump, he produced a sigh. “With the information Blake gave me concerning the stuff I missed last ceremony… I'm starting to suspect he didn't tell me everything…”

—End Confessional—

Turning around, Alessandro regarded the brickhouse with a less lax countenance.

Surveying those facial features, Will knew dissembling wouldn't function anymore. Then again… the truth had morphed into a burden, one he yearned to rid himself of. Although struggling to fess up, the thought of freedom from such encumbrance impelled him.

With a charged sigh, his orbs locked onto the model's.

“I guess you realized something's up, huh?” He started off guarded, arms folded. Chagrin welled within — those hours he'd spent nursing this secret appearing more and more perilous each second. Even so, he braced himself for fallout. “I shouldn't have kept it from you. I…”

Expression softening, Alessandro held up a hand. “Slow down, take a deep breath.” Last thing either wanted was this spiraling out of control. The brickhouse's downtrodden cadence evinced plain regret, after all. “First, tell me what happened.” He urged.

Inhaling and exhaling, Will composed himself.

“I… didn't tell you the whole truth about how things went between Dan and I yesterday.” Averting his gaze, he continued with a profuse grimace. “When we crossed paths after your talk with him… His reaction was way worse than I made it seem…”

Ambling over, the model clasped those jittery mitts. The nervous behemoth clearly required something to anchor him. “How so?” He prompted.

“He… blew up on me completely.” Will confessed — floodgates bursting apart, giving way to cascading ignominy. Why did he ever reckon it best to cover this up? He felt unfathomably simple-minded. “Ranted about what went on…”

Tugging his hands free, he screened his eyes. Guilt pooled within them, flowing. What else did he suppose would happen, keeping this under wraps?

“Will…” Alessandro's dourness dissipated fully, empathy painting his features. He recognized that sensation. As though you'd bungled everything. Like a turbid ocean — he nearly drowned within it last afternoon.

“I… tried comparing our experiences.” He elucidated, chagrin imbuing every word. “His… unfortunate status in the fandom with my getting eliminated last time we played.” Fingers raking across his hair, he drew a raucous intake. “He didn't take it well… at all. Said I never had to face what he did…” A self-deprecating puff left him. “I… think he was right?”

“Why…” Alessandro commenced, adjourning momentarily at a resulting wince. “Why didn't you tell me that?” He inquired, tone even. Those greyish-green orbs bored expectantly into the brickhouse.

“I…” Swallowing a heavy nothingness clogging his throat, Will tentatively returned that gaze. However, that growth he'd experienced rang through his mind. Was he about to defect back to cowardice this handily? Fists clenching, he mustered the strength for sincerity. “I didn't want to ruin things completely for you. And I was afraid you'd go see Dan while he was riled up, and he'd snap at you. And I-”

Averting his gaze, he clasped himself in his arms, face tightening with dismay.

“I shouldn't have presumed what was best. Not when it came to that.” He conceded, releasing a quavering breath. “I'm so sorry…” Listening to the handsome man's advance, he braced himself for an unforgiving rebuke.

“It's okay.” Those velvety words washed his anxiety away — a tranquil breeze, following a maelstrom. Cocking his head back to its prior position, Alessandro's tender visage greeted him, assuaging his turmoil. The model heaved a charged exhale. “I wish you had just told me the whole story right away, obviously… But I can understand why you hesitated.”

“You're not mad?” Will perked up, hope twinkling in those big orbs.

“I'm not...” Alessandro smiled, before faltering. Despite absolving the man, the news complicated affairs. His best friend really was suffering. “I'm just worried about Dan…” His voice cracked. With a profuse methodic intake, he considered him earnestly. “I need to reach out to him next time we meet.”

Quietness enfolded them for several moments. Eventually, the gentle giant found it within him to breach it.

“What now?” He requested. Skedaddling without notice seemed inconceivable.

The striking male willed a good-natured grin across his face — styled hair swaying gently in the submissive wind. Pressing as their situation appeared, he'd rather they don't take shots at each other.

“How about we go in opposite directions?” He proffered. “That way, we don't risk souring things between one another in the slightest. Even if our helpers pull something extreme, we'll have an easier time separating their actions from ours.”

Trading daps, they set off — leaf-crunches and shuffling turf sounding feebly, as they parted ways.

—Confessional :Will—

Lounging on his stump, repose he'd been sorely missing for a while graced him again. Though not naive enough to reckon it would last, given this ongoing ordeal, he rejoiced over this respite.

“I finally fessed up.” His gaze flicked down, as though about to wilt for a second. “I should have done it sooner, but…” Lips curving upward with relief, he looked back up. “I'm glad I got that off my chest, either way.”

With a deep breath, he leveled an index to the lens.

“Ashley, I'll give it my all today. You've got my word.”

—Confessional :Alessandro—

“Well… that confirms my suspicions that something was up.” Shifting in his seat, he ran a palm down his forehead. “Man, how I wish I'd been clearer when talking to Dan…”

Folding his arms, he shook his head.

“Nothing I can do now, except wait for the chance to sort through it with him…” Eyes glinted with determination. “I may as well try and join him at the final two.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Evergreens reared tall on either side, hemming in that dirtpath. An uncluttered line, contrasting against the mountains of botanic species. Boxing occupants into a claustrophobic corridor.

Pleasant discussion facilitated tolerating this cramped trek, however. Depending on one's character, you'd be shocked at how easily time fleeted — nearly enough to efface awareness pertaining to the competitive scene they currently partook in.

“So, you reckon you three wanted to pursue a relationship together for a long while now?” Connor reiterated provided intel, inclining his head while assessing it. Vision cursorily sweeping across their sides and the way ahead, he settled on his companion again. “Would you say as far back as season two?”

Hunter fiddled with the thick pamphlet stack he'd accumulated, securing it underarm — unknowingly letting sheets fall off would be absolutely humiliating. Putting an index to his chin, rumination didn't last.

“Close, but I wouldn't stretch it to that extent.” He rebutted. “Unsure if you ever rewatched season two after the fact, but Tess did make it clear to Ally she needed to prioritize herself for a while. She wasn't ready for that kind of relationship yet. By All-Stars, though? I can see it.”

Snapping fingers, Connor cracked a sheepish grin. “Oh, fair enough. Guess that makes sense. And yeah, haven't watched season two.” He conceded. As motives looped through his mind, his expression fell. “Before All-Stars, I refrained from it because I wanted to brush Riya's ‘off-stint’ aside. Since my second time competing, I just don't want to dwell on ‘us’ in general…”

“There's nothing wrong with that.” Hunter reassured, booting a pebble ahead. “I know Miriam told you not to blame yourself over Riya, and she's right. But you've got to remind yourself not to allow what mistakes you did make to drag you down. Learn, yes, but don't let what can't change burden you.” He counseled — that alliance catastrophe briefly peeking into his musing, only to fizzle out. Leveling a finger toward the CEO — gesture impregnated with conviction — their gazes interlocked. “Most of all, hold the good parts of those experiences closest.”

“I see…” Connor murmured. Focus on the positive bits, not unchangeable misfortunes. “Guess I can do that.”

Hunter beamed, giving a thumbs-up. “That's the spirit.” Eyes flicking forth, he squinted. “Almost there. I can see the clearing up ahead.”

—Confessional :Connor—

“I thought I'd be embarrassed, needing to receive advice still — after everything.” Brushing his gray strands, he shrugged. “But I'm not, I really needed that.”

—End Confessional—

Between them and their destination, however, another threat camped — camouflaged amidst shrubbery lining that pathway's last stretch. Two fiends, actually — a very dysfunctional ‘duo’.

One of whom narrowed her orbs, peering down that dappled trail, as their targets neared.

“How much longer will we need to lie in this filth?” Her ‘partner in crime’ — more like, pathetic nuisance whose assistance she happened to require — whined. “My threads are ruined beyond repair — and I want to dust myself off already.”

Muscles contracting, Karol braced herself for their cover to get blown, hand itching to strike that haughty, fedora-donning aristocrat. Once quietness prevailed, she curbed that urge.

“Don't worry, I see them coming now.” She hissed, taking all her self-control to maintain a low volume. “So, until I give you the signal, zip your mouth while we wait. Otherwise, you'll have gotten yourself dirty for nothing.” Regardless, her salt had to peek through somewhere. “And hospitalized, too.”

Bridling over this middle-aged hag's affront, Nick had half a mind to contravene her instructions. How dare that wretch upbraid him?! Despite a roaring spleen, though, two deterrents dissuaded him. First, a disinclination to incurring further injury to his person. Second… well, merely envisioning that grizzly geezer's disapproving mug and grating lecture exasperated him more than needing to bite his tongue right now.

Swallowing his umbrage, Nick remained in ambush.

Tilting her head back toward the trail, Karol spied on the approaching duo. They must time this right…

—Confessional :Karol—

“Did I trust him not to trip on thin air and ruin everything?” She quizzed rhetorically, waving a hand with a tsk. “Certainly not — I'd be more inclined to believe Ally has a life, and have you heard that insufferable girl?”

Folding her arms, she slung her shank over the knee.

“But again, no options.” Snarling, she pointed to the lens. “Just know that brat might not survive to see tomorrow if he screws this up.”

—Confessional :Nick—

“Did I trust Karol not to keel over from exhaustion, age and too much fat on her hips?” He randomly blurted, putting on an intrepid front in an attempt to seem badass. “Of course not, you bloody wankers!”

Let's say the results were up to personal interpretation, to be kind.

“If she messes up, I'll…” Trailing off with a shudder, he settled for, “sue her, yeah.”

—End Confessional—

As this oblivious pair neared the end of their seemingly troubleless joint expedition, Connor cocked his head toward his companion. Gratitude welled within.

“Thanks for the help.” A content grin graced his lips, as they forged onward. Of course, words couldn't erase nagging memories. But that reminder not to permit them to consume him did wonders. “Under normal circumstances, I doubt I'd have confided in anyone. Probably would've bottled it up.”

Unveiling these immature facets — those many viewers, apart from haters, likely reckoned he'd grown out of since his first two seasons — should have chagrined him. Truly? It felt liberating. As much as he'd slotted into providing wisdom for a few others, no one ever ceased learning.

By now, they were a mere dozen feet from that glad.

Finding that elation contagious, Hunter guffawed. “No problem, man.” He pumped his free fist, jaunty. “If you're feeling indebted, just think of this as your help getting repaid!”

Arms crossing, Connor shook his head. “Haven't done anything that merits it, though.” This half-hearted denial belied his curving lips. Absorbed in conversation, they overlooked the low vegetation nearby, which began rustling.

Slowing down a tad, Hunter nudged the hoary fellow. “Come on, don't sell yourself short. Ally certainly wouldn't want you to. That talk you gave her at the final four in All-Stars? She told me how much it helped put things into perspective-”

A silhouette leapt out — lunging toward Hunter with a holler, arms outstretched and ready to snatch those pamphlets-

“AH!” A posh voice cried out, tone fretful and petulant. “YOU BLOODY WANKER!”

In the nick of time, Connor had skidded before the younger male — disregarding his unwell ankle's dull protests. Without as much as a gander over their assailant, he'd pounced onto the figure, felling both of them. Rolling across turf briefly, the CEO's age ultimately didn't hamper him enough to tip things in the attacker’s favor.

Restraining that indignant individual's wrists against the back, Connor faced none other than Nick Milton's snarling visage. The opulent whippersnapper thrashed in a hapless endeavor to extricate himself, to no avail.

“Trying to steal, huh?” Connor narrowed his eyes, his calloused mitts coiling around the wrists. Shifting his position so his weight pressed further down upon the wannabe-thief, he hmphed. “On your own, without a plan? Yeah, not going to work.” He chastised.

“Leap off a headland, you wanker-” Nick's invective halted, his mug unceremoniously shoved onto soil. Deadened expletives came and went, to no effect.

“Thanks for the save, Connor.” Hunter cracked a smirk, bursting into snickers over Nick's fruitless umbrage. “Maybe eating literal dirt will finally humble him?”

Snorting, Connor nearly let his grasp slip. But Nick wasn't sufficiently coordinated to seize that short window, and the CEO regained steadiness swiftly. It was rather thrilling, frankly. So much so, their current mission almost slipped his mind. Almost…

“Doubt it.” He chuckled, nodding toward the clearing. “Go ahead and cross — I'll keep him down.” Those words prompted Hunter to swivel round, neither aware of the other player here.

“On it- OW!” Agony reverberated through his nether region — a pair of smug, ruthless orbs meeting his dilated ones. The merciless knee that had struck his groin retracted. Instinct overriding good sense, both hands shot to cradle his throbbing zone — releasing that hard-earned pamphlet stock, for the middle-aged woman's arms to clasp around.

“So long, loser!” Karol cackled, turning tail and bolting toward the verge.

“Hunter!” Connor exclaimed, letting his captive free, about to spring afoot. “Hold on! I'll try and stop her- Gah!” A clumsy, yet nonetheless effective hook to the face made him sprawl on the dirt. Taking his orbs off his adversary was a mistake.

“Think again, wretch!” Nick jeered, exhilarated over exacting vengeance. “How's that for ‘lacking a plan’, huh?!” Staggering upward, he pointed down toward the perfume-company owner — grinning sardonically.

“Oh, don't act like I didn't draw it all up myself!” Karol called out, breaching into the open clearing — cozy sunlight bathing her skin. Despite her admonition, she couldn't help but smirk. “Now, garner whatever scraps fell and come help me take this shit to the pail!”

Drawing up his chin, Nick tsked as he bent over, gathering sheets as Connor prioritized checking up on Hunter. “Fine, fine — settle down before you rupture your vocal cords.” He dissed, without real venom, as he passed that verge, too.

—Confessional :Nick—

Sputtering out humus, which had entered his mouth when Connor thrust his head onto turf earlier, he frantically swiped at his tongue with a napkin. For a second, he looked to choke, before composing himself.

“Ugh, damn geezer.” He retched out, fruitlessly brushing at his grimy, gashed garb. Eventually, he desisted, arms slackening at his sides. “Good thing his ass got humiliated back there.”

Adjusting his posture, his lips curled upward with malicious accomplishment, however. Sure, his garments were marred past repair — he would definitely replace those immediately once this wrapped up. Putting that trashy CEO in his place, though? Worth it. Another thought tempered this schadenfreude, yet mellowed him somewhat, too.

Hands folding, he gave an eye-roll.

“I guess Karol was right about collaboration being the best idea.” He conceded, before pouting. “Still won't make me fully forget that tofu.”

—Confessional :Karol—

Hands on her hips, she sported an overly satisfied grin. Two insufferable buffoons, ambushed and ridiculed in one swoop. It went swimmingly.

“Wish embarrassment123 had been there to spectate, to see her fuck-buddy get put in his place.” She mused smugly. “Oh, well, she'll get the gist once they're unable to go at it for months.”

As that high wore off slightly, she shrugged, hmphing.

“Don't get me wrong — that blond brat still hasn't broken into mixed feelings.” She assured audiences. “But I suppose calling him completely useless would be disingenuous now. Probably still 90% that, though.”

—End Confessional—

Dumping the load onto Alessandro's pail, Blake dusted his palms. Their lower numbers — even with a mere one-helper difference — had him concerned. To his relief, things seemed rather even thus far.

Obviously, he didn't root for Will's downfall. That other unexpected bond also mattered to him. Though perhaps understandable, a certain someone's vendetta did magnify his urge to push the model into victory.

“What are the rest doing?!” A polish-accented grouse snapped him off rumination. Speaking off… None other than Gabby rushed into the open, depositing her findings onto Will's bucket. “Am I the only one finding stuff?”

“Quit your whining, why won't you?” Another female voice neared, accompanied by a british cackle. Both already present individuals turned their heads, spotting Nick and Karol arriving with quite the impressive cargo.

Loading his consignment onto the model's pail, Nick swiveled to regard the tree-lover.

“Besides, it's not as though your side hasn't been discovering anything, mate.” He snickered, jabbing a finger toward the trail they'd hailed from.

Both bested men lingered there. Slouching, Connor's gaze lowered, before Hunter's solacing hand gripped his shoulder.

“You didn't screw it up.” Hunter whispered. “Nick would've knocked me down, if not for you. Had I been faster, I would've gotten us the win here.” He asserted. “So, don't beat yourself up over it.”

Perking up, Connor greeted this reassurance with wordless appreciation.

“Seriously?!” Gabby's outburst snapped them back to reality. Fists balled, her glower switched between her adversaries and ostensible allies.

Dispersing back into the woods again, they knew higher alertness was pivotal. With that initial theft carried out, the spotlight now beamed firmly upon those tactics. This wouldn't stay a one-time occurrence…

—Confessional :Gabby—

“Where is Grett?” She griped. Perceptible desperation laced her question. Although she didn't bother articulating her frustration beyond that, her mind raced.

That damn model might join that scoundrel in the final two. If that transpired — and assuming they rekindled their friendship, which wouldn't befuddle her — Dan may not even require victory for access to the prize.

Her fists curled. That bastard wouldn't be rewarded, not after what befell her beloved Ellie. No way in hell.

—End Confessional—

___________

Come on, come on… Brian Smith prayed applying layers upon layers of foundation could salvage his nose's appearance — enough for a presentable look, at least. As soon as filming concluded, he'd schedule a plastic surgery.

“Pay better increase when I host the following seasons…” He grumbled. Whether this tenure would last never crossed his mind. He deemed success guaranteed. Withstanding so much insolence and trouble merited great recompense, surely.

Fiddling with cosmetic products, another concern cropped up. His eyes narrowed.

“You three better cut this out.” Warning his editing team, who'd presumably view this soon, he stayed focused on tidying his visage. “Show the challenge in a montage, or something, until I return outside.” Of his instructions, those later assigned to handle this footage would heed only the latter.

___________

An overhead shot of Tipiskaw's woods swept through, their conjoined, leafy crowns redolent of a fluffy, verdant ocean from that angle. Lighting appeared rather muted here, indicating, even without directly showing, an overcast sky. This implied some time passing between principal photography and this shot's capture.

Seconds later, a proper collage of incidents played.

___________

The lens followed Hunter and Connor, as they strode down the trail. Although they'd been mugged last time, Hunter's tactic had gotten them quite the stack beforehand. Indubitably, this would prove true still, right?

Several minutes elapsed without mark. At last, Hunter noticed tape — barely visible amongst countless leaves strewing a trunk's bottom. Trading looks with Connor, he began perusing other oaks and pines. Sure enough, every five or so inspections, that sturdy adhesive band greeted him. Piecing reality together, dismay flooded him.

Coincidentally or purposefully — the area abutting that dirtpath got picked clean of sheets.

___________

Next, came the culprits.

Despite prior grievances over needing to forage, Nick and Karol motivated each other on. Not through encouragement, or pleasantries, of course. By exasperating one another into wanting to show their companion up. Again, without fervent vitriol such ruckus would have entailed a mere day ago.

A crimson-wearing tree-lover butted into their excursion, however. Due to proximity, Gabby targeted the affluent male — kneeing his jewels…

___________

Traversing the woods a mile away, Blake started upon hearing the ensuing screech, nearly dropping his pamphlets.

___________

Snatching that hard-earned load from Nick, Gabby dashed for a smooth escape.

But Karol wouldn't allow her to slip by.

Thrusting her own loot onto the now kneeling man's chest, she fetched a stone. Squinting, she flung it squarely into Gabby's back, shaking coordination enough for an exposed root to trip that polish woman.

As Karol and a recuperating Nick retrieved the latter's stock, Gabby stirred. Rolling her eyes, Karol gave Nick everything and barked for him to book his ass to the glade. He bolted away, whereas Karol and Gabby tussled stubbornly.

___________

Alessandro and Will happened to reach the clearing concurrently, depositing their respective findings. They exchanged good wishes.

Parting ways, they capped off this rapid-fire scene showcase.

___________

“Attention, campers! Only ten minutes remain!” Brian Smith's voice blared out numerous loudspeakers perched on boughs. Despite severe distress over his ‘grievous disfigurement’, he strove to maintain supremacy. “Better start booking it back — wouldn't want to waste all that effort, just because you weren't fast enough to redeem points, right?”

The bleachers stirred with activity — everyone's cynosure jerking back to the fray at hand.

“Come on, you ugly bastard. Your face was already a mess before receiving a hook.” Fiore muttered under her breath, eyeing the doorway with vexation.

Would that trashy host only exit once time ran out? Damn it. If such transpired, her plan might backfire — Grett could have made great contributions to Will's chances. Although they couldn't glimpse the pail's contents from their seating, calculating the number of deposits made on both sides painted a bleak picture.

Gleaning his adoptive daughter's turmoil — Fiore's strained on composure not fooling him — Alec clasped her shoulder consolingly. He didn't venture to chime in. Drawing others’ notice certainly wouldn't improve her mood. But showed support, nonetheless.

Fiore inclined her noggin appreciatively, yet no less hounded.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“I swear, if that asshole host's routine causes my scheme to blow up in my face, not even ten plastic surgeries will fix it.” She seethed, dissembling her harrowed feelings. Crossing her arms, she lowered her gaze, hissing. “Not like that guy hasn't had a beating coming for a while, anyway.”

—End Confessional—

Screened amidst bordering layers of vegetation, Grett's tension climbed up as well. Her squinted orbs surveyed that clearing, each passing moment feeling like more and more of a waste. Despite refusal to dwell on possibly costing her side victory with her absence, that outcome grew less possible to disregard.

Grett trusted Fiore's judgment enough. Their season one collusion — short-lived as it was — proved the girl had a good head on her shoulders. Apart from that, unlike her and Gabby's purely vengeance-fueled motivation, Fiore's unexpected amity with Will rendered her genuinely invested in that brickhouse's success. At least, it ensured she didn't deliberately throw a spanner in the works.

As minutes ticked down, however, that fact quit assuaging her restlessness. Not to mention, the threat of detection harried her thoughts…

“Ugh… finally fixed myself up enough.” A punchable grouse narrowly tickled her ears, jolting her off ponderation. Gripping bark tightly, repressing sudden movement so as not to blow her cover, she craned her head forth to check.

Sure enough, sound didn't deceive her. That conceited man stalked outdoors, appraising bleachers.

“Are you sure about that?” Fiore's voice came, goading. Grett tuned out the ensuing spat, recognizing this opening.

Without much time remaining, Grett began moving. Concealed amidst underbrush, she rounded that glade until she faced the mess-hall's backside. Frenetic eyes roving across wall, they zeroed in on a back-door — one their amateur presenter neglected to lock, as it stood ajar. Shedding her cover at last, she dashed for it — praying Fiore kept her squabble fervent enough to distract Brian Smith.

Thankfully, whatever jabs that child dished out got that man squawking like a hound. So loud, it drowned out subsequent roasts, and probably Alec jumping to Fiore's defense, too.

Adrenaline drove her to swing that door open. Her foot lashed out to halt its motion, before it could slam into the wall. Yet, she knew some might have overheard. More incentive to hasten.

Face scrunching with resolve, she slipped indoors.

—Confessional :Grett—

“I was cutting it close, to put it mildly.” She observed, fixing up her hair. “It better be worth it.” She warned with crossed upper limbs.

—End Confessional—

___________

Three minutes from the end, active players commenced their last arrival — footfalls clashing and meshing into a mimicry of a stampede. Timing and decision-making aligned — perfectly or calamitously, depending on your perspective — for them to hurtle down that same dirtpath, gunning for that glade.

Gabby didn't settle for merely racing. Existing grudge aside, certain antics she'd experienced this past hour had sown a general dislike toward all her opponents. In a flash, she charged Nick, who yelped and legged it faster — afraid of further damage.

This attempt spurred Karol to ram into that nature-lover — mostly not to get upstaged, and slight respect she'd never admit to developing for that blond brat. Their ensuing grapple indubitably doomed their chances of making their deposits before time ran out.

Racing abreast, Alessandro and Will refrained from interfering with each other. In fact, they exchanged nods — whatever happened, happened.

Barring Gabby and Karol, everyone made it onto the clearing — starting a beeline toward the pails.

—Confessional :Alessandro—

Raking a hand through luscious strands, he inhaled deeply.

“This was it.” Arms folded, he leveled a pointed look to the lens. “Time was running out — we were just rushing to redeem what we had on hand before time ran out. After that, it was a matter of finding out the winner…” He trailed off, sighing.

—Confessional :Will—

The brickhouse rubbed his head on its back. Despite his talk with Alessandro quelling contrition, awkwardness tinged his expression. Not exactly harboring much more to share, he shifted in his stump.

Still, letting this climax pass without remark seemed unfitting.

“Going from first overall boot to first… finale boot? Would be something.” Crickets chirped. “Hoping it won't happen, though.”

—End Confessional—

Stamped front and center onto that cloudless tapestry overhead, the sun beamed down upon sprinting figures. A bright sphere, illuminating that clearing thoroughly, exuding heat.

Lassitude had begun borrowing its way through their frames, to varying degrees. Yet, all pushed on — impending conclusion impelling them to exert themselves just a little longer. Who knew? A mere second could influence how everything panned out.

Except none of them would determine this outcome. Who would, then? Once Alessandro and Will, who led their respective packs by now, were halfway through the glade… Grett bolted out the mess-hall's main entrance.

“Grett?” Will blurted with bewilderment. Truthfully, given she'd neither shown herself nor been mentioned since this started, her presence had slipped his mind. Amidst his confusion, the brickhouse's foot caught on a camouflaged dip. He crashed down, pamphlets scattering across turf.

Wincing over that accident, Alessandro forged onward — puzzled, but not letting himself blunder. At the bleachers, many gasped over the sudden arrival. Fiore? She wore a devious grin, winking to Alec, who ruffled her hair fondly.

“Alessandro, faster!” Blake called out, mere feet behind him and keeping up. Watching her approach not the brickhouse's bucket, but Alessandro's, he'd noticed something harrowing. “She's holding a jug!” He warned. Hastening, he overtook his model buddy.

However, it was too late.

Closing the distance between herself and that vulnerable metal container, Grett upturned a full pitcher over it. A half-gallon of water poured down, soaking Alessandro and his helper's already deposited loot.

“What the fuck?!” Blake barked at the culprit, accosting her. Once she responded with a sassy smirk, his head snapped toward a startled Brian Smith. “That's clearly against the rules!” He protested. “You made it a rule that we couldn't even steal each others’ stuff within this clearing! Let alone destroy them!”

Overwhelmed, Brian Smith stepped back. To situate himself amongst this disorder, he checked his wrist-watch. Yep, time was up. Taking a deep breath, he clapped.

“Alright, alright! First, challenge's over — everyone, settle down!” He demanded, dreading another headache, or worse. Turning back to the surfer, he suppressed a frustrated groan. “Give me a second to check.”

“Go right ahead.” Grett beckoned, motioning lazily to her handiwork. Backing away, she folded her arms and sent Alessandro a sneer. Though tempted to lash out at her, Blake devoted his attention to consoling his baffled pal.

Trailing over, Will stared with dilated eyes. What just occurred? Why did it even happen? Dirty tricks weren't something he wished to stoop to. Momentarily, he deliberated over whether or not to direct an apology. With suspense simmering, however, he surmised interjecting right away might add agitation.

Hovering over that filled pail, Brian Smith cringed. Just surveying its interior gave him a slight migraine — counting them seemed a nightmare come true. Those soggy, increasingly amorphous articles, which stewed in liquid. In fact, bile snaked up his throat, with him narrowly gulping it down.

“Damn it… counting them will be such a headache, if even possible.” He groused, wrist ghosting across his forehead. Couldn't let perspiration accumulate and smudge his foundation.

Purposeful coughing came from the seat-rows, getting more emphatic until everyone directed their focus to its source — Fiore. With all eyes on her, she lifted an index.

“If I may interject…” She commenced, straining on a polite tone, so as to better her odds. “I'd say that's unnecessary. Unless your wording was off, this stunt technically didn't break any stipulations you provided.” Her avowal raised eyebrows.

“Elaborate.” The host snipped ensuing quietness, precluding potential objections from others present. Feuds notwithstanding, an opportunity to evade labor piqued his interest. With a cracked nose, his rush to wrap things up mounted every moment.

“It's simple, really.” Fiore reclined with a complacent smirk. “You gave them three precise restrictions.” Fingers came up in tandem with the subsequent enumeration. “First, you told them tearing pamphlets wasn't allowed — you didn't say messing with them in general. Second, no snatching them from opponents within this clearing. And third, as more of an extension of these two, no removing pamphlets from either pail.”

Exchanging glances, Alessandro and Blake realized where Fiore's case headed. The former's gaze turned downcast, leading to the latter gripping his shoulder. A triumphant snicker from nearby prompted the surfer stare daggers toward Grett.

Much less privy to this underlying direction, Nick tapped a foot, arms akimbo. “Why are you even regurgitating that? Grett literally stormed in and sabotaged our stuff. That steroid-abusing bloodywanker should clearly get disqualified!” He pressed, rattling said brickhouse.

“H-Hey… Hey!” Will stuttered, adjourning for a moment to assemble composure. Bearing slander wasn't on his list. “I had no idea Grett would do this!” He defended, before flushing and stroking the back of his head. “I didn't even see her during the challenge!”

Bridling, Nick's sprung a finger toward the main duo present. “Tell that to them!” He mocked, though neither the model nor surfer really paid his insistence much mind. Before the brat could prod further, the host kneed his jewels to hush him.

“Go on…” Brian Smith urged Fiore, who shook concern that welled within for the brickhouse over his and Nick's altercation.

“Just analyze what Grett did, juxtaposed with those guidelines.” She instructed, plastering that smug grin back on. “She poured water onto Alessandro's bucket, that's it.” Once that quizzical stare persisted, she scoffed. “Last time I checked, that's not the same as ripping any pamphlets — she didn't even lay a finger on them directly. She didn't remove anything from that bucket either.”

Murmuring rippled across the connected benches — as Connor, Hunter and a grimacing Nick retook their seats. Fiore's argument lay bare for all to comprehend. Perhaps this incident itself wasn't too novel. Across three seasons, every finale had some dubious element or play. To be candid, many still reeled over her actively contributing to the brickhouse's success — even some who got to follow their whole journey somewhat.

“Exactly.” Grett concurred, sashaying closer to the still standing trio again. “My stunt went against none of what you stipulated. And — barring creativity, obviously — there was nothing stopping others from doing something similar.” She handwaved the surfer's glower. “So, I fail to see unfairness here.”

As this spiel concluded, so did Gabby and Karol's scuffle. Both had missed those messy happenings, of course. They knew time was definitely up by now — nothing more. Once again, timing coincided with ludicrous accuracy — with both emerging from woodland, abreast and trading vehement scowls, right as Brian Smith brought up his loudhailer to declare his verdict.

“With that compelling argument in place, I see no foul-play here. Will has won himself the last spot at the final two!” Gazing toward Alessandro, whose orbs drifted aside with disappointment, Brian Smith brazenly ventured to twist that dagger. “Our resident male snack just couldn't replicate this show's last aspiring celebrity's performance. I doubt he'll match her success outside the game, too.”

Breath hitching with chagrin, Alessandro turned and power-walked away. Tears didn't leak. He showed no outright heartbreak, despite exuding undeniable despondency as he evanesced into woodland. He just needed a few minutes alone.

Without warning, Gabby zoomed over, glomping Grett. Bulging orbs twinkled with manic exhilaration, her embrace tightening a tad too far. A quick succession of shoulder-pats did cue her to loosen lightly. Nevertheless, her elation persisted, unabated.

“Don't know where you were, or what you did, but yes!” She cheered, hopping as her best friend tittered over her enthusiasm. “With that guy gone, it's only a matter of time before the traitor loses, too!”

Even so, Brian Smith's disinterested yawn prompted Grett to gently pry her off. Given his pettiness, she wouldn't put it past him to reconsider just to piss them off.

“Let's save the celebration for after Dan's iced, too.” Grett suggested, receiving a pout. To galvanize the hippy, she teased her. “Come on, you know gloating with him present and defeated will be more fun.” Worked like a charm.

Incandescent, dark-brown orbs bored into their deceptively carefree canvass. Despite getting disregarded by that duo, the surfer's spite drew a brickhouse's notice.

“I'm sorry. I promise I didn't know what they were up to-” A palm fronted Will's visage, halting his frantic apology. Once the mitt lowered, a grim, yet understanding gaze greeted him.

“Don't worry, I trust you.” Blake confirmed. Gaze gliding in the direction Alessandro had bolted, he rubbed a temple, groaning. “I just feel shitty for not managing to help him. You're not to blame.” He clasped the man's shoulder. “While I hope Dan does well, I don't want you letting guilt hold you down. Give that final challenge — whatever it is — your all.”

Heart swelling with gratitude, Will bunched his fists and nodded.

“Very nice…” Brian Smith drawled. Realizing that delectable third-placer probably wouldn't return by himself, he facepalmed. “Also, can someone go ahead and fetch that sl- Alessandro? All other finales had the cast spectating the final showdown.”

“I'll go!” Blake volunteered, shooting the host and two preening women side-eye once more, before sprinting off.

“Hey, Will! Make sure you pay back the favor, and kick that purple scoundrel's ass!” Gabby hollered gleefully. In turn, the brickhouse pretended not to hear, disconcertedly convening with the rest as they rose from their seats.

At his demeanor, Fiore frowned.

—Confessional :Will—

“Don't misjudge me. Getting to advance is nice.” He clarified, arms folded. “But the method used to achieve that… even if I had no involvement? Sours it quite a bit.”

Expelling a bummed puff, he shrunk away slightly.

“I hope Dan doesn't take it horribly. Despite everything, part of me still feels guilty.” With a deep breath, he composed himself. “I may try talking one last time, but… I know Ashley and her family would love to renovate the farm.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Pitching his now empty plastic bottle forth, Dan watched momentum hustle it off sight. Once flora shrouded it wholly, his head drooped. His ears captured natural sounds — rasping leaves, perhaps grass shuffling whenever he adjusted his position a bit.

Incapable of willing himself to go and retrieve more water, he dealt with non-existent stimulation. Sure, examining a liquid's motion barely counted; however, it still beat nothing. Without even that, his mind slumped deeper onto introspection.

Expression tightening, he huddled. He didn't approve of what he visualized inside. Not a smidge. His respiratory cycle quickened, as his endeavor to cease brooding foundered. Hands veiling his face, he heaved with aggravation — unsure which shame currently assailed him.

“Wouldn't recommend letting yourself get dehydrated, Dan!” His spine went rigid, as that deplorable host's voice greeted him. Steeling his nerves, he gazed down the sole dirtpath leading in and out the sector. Indeed, that presenter herded the others in.

Eyes roving across that small throng, the geek's stomach churned.

To start, that brickhouse tailed the host — an elbow clutched, gaze drifting right. As though the dweeb would ever buy that blatant facade. Once his orbs alighted upon a certain devious duo, however, his indignation gave way to disquiet. Grett and Gabby sported grins — the former's merely smug, whereas her tree-loving buddy verged on downright sadistic.

“So, how do you like it?” Wasting zero moments, Gabby accosted him with velocity. “You might have weaseled your way into the final two, but you're all out of allies — and we know you're not winning shit yourself.” She jabbed.

Scanning the crowd behind her, Dan's chest throbbed with non-physical, yet no less searing agony. Alessandro was nowhere to be found — neither was Blake, though Dan's current state prevented him from noting that.

“How does it feel, huh?” Gabby jabbed a finger harshly on his shoulder. “For all the shit you pulled to finally come back to bite you?” Crossing her upper limbs, she stared him down judgmentally. “To think I considered you a friend back at the start of season one.” She scoffed, embittered. “You're nothing but a self-serving coward, who's only grown worse and worse.”

Shudders wracked that nerd's scraggly frame. He couldn't deny that assertion. His deportment truly led him here. Faced with a crowd, where not even a soul stood in his corner. Considering the upcoming showdown's blatant physical nature, odds stacked against him more and more.

Bunching either fist, Dan shut his eyes, swallowing down tears. Crumbling again meant relinquishing whatever ounce of dignity he retained… By that point, he appeared devoid of anything more to his name.

“Just…” Catching his cracking tone, Dan drew a discordant intake. Shaking his head, he loured at her. “Zip it, Gabby! At least I did change, unlike you!” He snapped.

Gasps came, as Gabby's eyes dilated with umbrage. “Excuse me?!” She gawked.

Done with her bullcrap, Dan flung his arms upward and blasted her with pent-up ire.

“You fucking know it's true!” He barked. “Like, come on, tell me what you've been doing since my first elimination! Actually, no need — I'll manage that for you.” Overlooking countless bewildered eyes, he swung both limbs back down, kickstarting his list. “You've enabled Ellie, and 90% of the time, gotten pissed with others just because they voted for you or her! Playing support character to Grett doesn't change shit!”

“By the way, Dan and Will both get a fifteen minute break to rest prior to the trial.” Brian Smith chimed in, ruining Gabby's resulting endeavor to conceive a comeback.

“Face it — this is between me and… Will now.” Rancor tainted his cadence, as he forced on anger to stave off despair. “So… take your fucking ‘revenge’ and shove it! Because I'm sick of your yammering!” Shoulders heaving, Dan stormed into woodland to stew before the duel.

“That piece of shit…” Gabby gnashed her teeth, observing him disappearing into forestation. Whereas most were either too nonplussed or frightened to vocalize reactions, Grett didn't hesitate to cheer on her chum. In contrast, Will heaved a weary breath, starting in the opposite direction.

Spying on his departure, Fiore turned to her adoptive father. “I'll return soon. I need to do something.” She apprised.

The librarian arched an eyebrow, yet relented upon sensing how much she needed this. “Very well. Just return soon, or I'll go look for you.” He admonished, eliciting a nod.

—Confessional :Will—

“Gabby continuing to rub it in Dan's face makes me feel even crappier. Great…” He bemoaned, clutching his cargo short's hem.

—Confessional :Dan—

“I hate Gabby…” Silence succeeded this declaration over several seconds. “I hate her so much, almost as much as I hated Ellie throughout her run here.” He asserted harder. By now, it seemed impossible to ascertain whether this was pure hatred, or a mix with deflection. Not even he could determine that himself anymore.

—Confessional :Fiore—

“I guess Will isn't too thrilled with Grett and Gabby.” She deduced, twiddling her thumbs ponderingly. Tsking, she shrugged. “Don't feel any remorse about getting the former to sabotage Alessandro. Not like Nick and Karol didn't do the same. Our method just took an unorthodox direction…”

Shoes dangling against her stump's lateral facet, contrition washed over her visage.

“But… he's obviously the one I want to win. Nothing about that's changed.” She conceded. “So, I don't want that hampering him too much right at the end, so checking on him doesn't hurt.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Settling on the turf, Will reclined into a bole. Unlike his soon-to-be final opposition, he wasn't violently torn up within. Winning would aid affairs back on the ranch immensely, he reminded himself again.

Just allotting Gabby another chance to ridicule Dan imparted an unpleasant edge to that prospect, however. Despite the scraggly recluse's recent belligerence, he betrayed plain inner suffering. Will prayed Alessandro and Blake would stick by him, no matter how their duel panned out…

“Good thing you didn't wander too far.” That familiar, once always snark-laden tone suspended his reflection. Turning his head, the brickhouse saw Fiore amble over, hands tucked casually behind her back. Stopping before him, she crossed her arms. “Being genuine here, why do you look so bothered? You're a finalist — and your competition's probably toast in a physical challenge.”

Emitting discomfitted hums, he shifted a bit, averting his gaze. Getting debriefed over this exacerbated that lump clogging his throat. In spite of that, though, he eventually met her stare. This whole Dan debacle had taught him yet again not to permit such matters to gnaw at him. Best method to achieve that? Honesty.

“I know that. I'm just… Can I be honest?” His question evoked a quizzical nod. Scanning their vicinity to verify no outside party's presence, he swallowed dryly. “I… talked it out with Alessandro during the challenge. But last night, I tried reaching out to Dan. And he blew up on me. For a while, I downplayed it to Alessandro. That… worsened things. And seeing Gabby trying to rub it in Dan's face really struck a chord…”

Heaving as though liberated from an indescribable burden, Will smacked his own forehead.

“I know it probably sounds stupid-”

“It sounds messy as hell.” Fiore deadpanned. Emotion returned at the subsequent wince. “You're probably the least at fault there, mind you.” She appended, skipping over and plopping down beside him. Compressing a clump of grass, she ruminated over her words, before resuming. “According to you, Dan unloaded on you. With Alessandro likely not too stable either, assuming confrontation was a recipe for disaster isn't unwarranted.” She assured.

“Still, I wish I'd fessed up immediately… but I guess rueing won't fix anything.” Will conceded, getting shown a satisfied smirk in response. “Not the biggest fan of Gabby and Grett, though. Grett's trick — and especially Gabby rubbing that in afterward…” He noticed Fiore's countenance falling. Thus, he arched an eyebrow. “Fiore?”

“About the scheme Grett pulled…” Trailing off, she scooched away slightly. Damn it, though nowhere near as hard as opening up about personal issues, a smidge of shame painted her expression nonetheless. “I'll be honest with you… I actually came up with that idea on the fly, and got her on board to carry it out.”

What? Momentarily stumped over that revelation, the brickhouse blinked toward her. Perhaps entropy rendered him slow, but he didn't anticipate Fiore to scheme- okay, getting gobsmacked over her plotting remained moronic, even in his state. But… he hadn't envisaged her actively seeking to help him out?

“I… just didn't want you to lose, not immediately after me at least.” Fiore couldn't help erecting a light wall, crossing her arms. “You know how embarrassing our alliance perishing back-to-back would look?” This mask crumbled swiftly, however. “Still… point is, I meant to help you — not make you feel like an asshole. So, feelings on Dan notwithstanding, I'm… sorry.”

Those words didn't alter his reservations against Grett and Gabby; however, they alleviated his self-deprecation greatly. To know this dubious stunt didn't wholly derive from vengeance against another, but frank longing to watch him succeed.

“Hey, it's fine.” The brickhouse stretched out a mitt to cup her shoulder. “At least you were just looking out for me — not merely rooting for me in hopes of exacting revenge…” His lips curved upward tenderly, soon eliciting a similar expression from her.

___________

Huddling against a lofty pine, only rustling kept Dan company. Occasionally joined by shifting emerald blades, whenever he adjusted his position. The aether beamed down, spotless and azure. Repose incarnate…

Such tranquility belied insurmountable turmoil raging on within. A cacophony of odium, compunction and despair — eddying unremittingly through his fraying mind.

Alessandro hadn't approached him. Of course, why would he? That hope he'd briefly nursed for reconciliation was preposterous. He didn't merit the Italian's forgiveness, didn't even come close to it. Time to resign himself to that… Once more, his only potential solace was that prize.

Failure would render everything pointless — his journey would conclude in solely shame, heartbreak and mockery from those looking down upon him…

Like a pendulum clock heralding midnight, loudspeakers blared a fateful announcement.

“Final 2, report back to the stadium! Time for your last showdown. Less than half an hour from now, one you will net a million dollars. The other?” That cadence oozed derision. “Probably frustration and depression!”

No stalling.

Mustering every ounce of gumption lingering within, Dan braced a forearm onto the trunk. As though his loaded mind had transmuted into literal weight, hauling himself afoot proved somewhat harder than predicted. Regardless, he powered through, hand pressing onto bark as short wobbles threatened to down him momentarily.

Non-existent nails practically burrowing into his palms, he trudged on. Ignoring protests. That nagging, inward insistence to merely desist. What recompense could hail from this? None. With his misdeeds, karma likely awaited him. Nevertheless, he weaved between seemingly endless trunks, toiling across hindering undergrowth and shrubbery.

Drive to salvage this ordeal to even the tiniest extent? Sunk-cost fallacy? Pure madness? Whatever impelled him, he couldn't refute it. Just face the music.

___________

“Calm down, you might trip!” Blake tailed his modelesque buddy. Despite matching his pace, he failed to shorten their distance. That headstart derived from that sudden set-off taking the surfer off-guard.

This admonition produced no feedback — and they carried on, shooting down that narrow dirtpath. Their velocity likely exceeded what they showed during their tenure within this competition — owing to desperation excelling as fuel.

Understandably so, Blake surmised. Even with his buddy not vocalizing it, he discerned the model slipping back into self-blame to an extent. It bummed him. Upon tracking Alessandro down, matters had seemed much less grave. The model readily confessed to merely wishing some time without potential vitriol getting slung his way, even allowing Blake to stick around without issue.

Amidst their exchange — wherein they canvassed how Alessandro should handle his and Dan's complicated standing — however, they'd lost sight of time. Neither even registered it, leading to both getting floored once speakers came on amongst canopy.

In his gut, Blake apprehended the futility of their sprint. No way they'd arrive in a timely manner, especially given the geek's likely staunch walls. Unsure whether voicing it would improve or worsen things, he'd held his tongue.

As their claustrophobic surroundings gave way to that uncluttered circle, Blake's suspicions would be vindicated.

Their fellow booted contestants congregated along a makeshift arena — its barrier consisting of many wooden furnishings, lacking any sort of polish.

Will stood within — a backpack strapped on, three balloons fastened to it and suspended over his head. Seemingly arriving a bit later, and therefore not yet done putting on his own gear, Dan occupied the area's opposite half.

“Just in the nick of time, I see.” Brian Smith snorted, starting to deem that defiant model's detour advantageous. After all, how lame would him talking things through with the dweeb be?

Many heads turned toward the racing duo, displaying varying emotions. The brickhouse's orbs flitted between the duo and his opponent, simultaneously hopeful and anxious concerning what could ensue. Upon spotting his dashing best friend, Dan… shook his head, then averted his gaze.

Heart smarting, Alessandro slowed to a stop, pain reuniting with his countenance. Halting as well, Blake winced.

“Sorry, but if you wanted to chat, you two came too late.” Brian Smith asserted preemptively. “There's been enough delays as is. So, join your fellow losers.” He pointed toward the crowd.

Curbing an urge to sock the bastard, Blake ushered his despondent companion over to the masses.

Following them through his peripheral vision, Dan's heart clenched. Had they actually hoped to…? No! Quit dwelling on that! He… He didn't reckon himself capable of enduring more what-ifs. He couldn't crumble right now…

Clapping, Brian Smith commenced elucidating, sauntering toward a lone crate as he did.

“Your final challenge is quite simple. In fact, I'm sure you've figured it out.” Letting silence enfold them, the host smirked. Suspense and drama always deterred basic deduction from most. Upon predictably receiving no answer, he gave a taunting eye-roll. “Well, guess DC2's memorability remained as poor as its representation's performance.”

Grinning over the muttering that drew, he proceeded.

“Basically, we've repurposed the balloon aspect from its semi-final. To differentiate this and give it a more climatic flair, however, we're ditching dart-guns…” Hunkering down by that container, he pretended to rummage through to build anticipation. “Say hello to… these!”

Springing upright, he flourished a wooden sword in each hand. Without delay, he hurled both inside that enclosed space.

“Really?” Dan muttered under his breath, swiping his weapon off dirt fast enough to make his adversary flinch.

Talk about unfair… Dan mused bitterly, before noting the soft behemoth's shock. Watching that guy take another dozen seconds to retrieve his instrument, his eyes squinted. Maybe his physical inferiority wouldn't sink his game… As long as Will's inner weakness caught up to him first.

“Give that scoundrel his just desserts!” Gabby hollered — drawing side-eye from Fiore — her intensity discomforting the green-shirted male further. In turn, Dan's hands tightened around his hilt.

“Don't think I need to clarify, but whoever loses all their balloons first loses their shot as well.” Brian Smith made sure to elevate tensions, clasping both palms together. “And the other shall get a million dollars! Now…”

Flinging his arms outwardly, he boomed with a deranged grin.

“BEGIN!”

___________

Chilling quietness befell that scene, as two pairs of eyes interlocked. Both cognizant one move could suffice for all to spiral into pandemonium. Similarities in deportment ended at this mutual awareness, however…

Tremors pecked at Will's shanks — forehead permeated with cold sweat stemming from a continuous, unsuccessful bid to devise how to proceed. Should he shorten the distance between them? Wait, that'd definitely trigger the other's fight mode immediately. Maybe talking from his current spot would pan out better.

In spite of his scragglier frame, Dan's stance appeared much sounder. Feet planted with a balanced interval between them, he trained his gaze upon his bulkier adversary. He seemed to study him. Perhaps waiting for an opportune opening? Certainly not too shabby at feigning composure, at least for now…

Appraising those flaming orbs, trepidation shot up the brickhouse's spine. Several moments elapsed, neither daring to take initiative first — whether off anxiety, or waiting for a slip-up to exploit. Eventually, though, he steeled himself. Before undertaking a move, he needed to attempt something one last time…

—Confessional :Will—

“I couldn't just attack without reaching out again first. It… wouldn't feel right to me.” He conceded somberly. “May sound moronic, but holding something in did me no favors. I don't want to repeat that mistake.”

—End Confessional—

“So, this is it, huh? Just you and me left.” He awkwardly commenced, unable to help but inch sideways — fruitlessly trying to evade those eyes, which narrowed with growing fervor.

“Beat his ass already, Will!” Gabby screeched from the sidelines, piling on pressure, which earned a sidelong glare from Fiore. Those demands ticked something within the purple-wearing dweeb off further.

Disregarding her, Will swallowed apprehension and tried de-escalating matters.

“Look, Dan.” Neither side had performed moves, yet adrenaline already seeped into his being. “I know you've been through a lot, and I shouldn't have tried comparing our experiences. I don't want there to be bad blood between us, no matter who wins… But you can't keep doing this to yourself-”

Yet another spiel — can't he learn to quit those?! Raged through Dan's mind. Loosening nothing other than a harsh scream, he rushed the brickhouse, preparing his implement.

“Zip it!” He barked. Ready to plug his ears to his incessant appeals and ensuing yelp! To show them all-

POP

On reflex, a frantic Will hitched his sword upward. Its tip contacted one of Dan's balloons, which burst into shreds of rubber.

There came a pause — no longer than a second or two. The swarthy man winced at his own, self-defense-driven move, whereas Dan's orbs scorched up to verify the damage. Some of those spectating them, however, couldn't keep their mouths fastened.

“Yeah! End him!” Gabby roared, pumping a fist, as Grett chuckled fondly. Blake glared their way, whilst Alessandro looked on with consternation. Too late, though — her remark spurred the dweeb into action.

“Screw you!” Dan snapped at god-knew-who. Without giving Will a moment to reason or react, his knee soared squarely into the brickhouse's unprotected groin. Breath hitching, the taller contestant's knees buckled, his own weapon clattering down. “You're not taking this from me, too!” He cried out, his timber blade in position.

“Watch out!” Hunter exclaimed, narrowly jolting Will off that pain-induced stupor… Not fast enough. Dan swiped at the guy's three balloons, intent on taking them out in one swoop. Pained eyes dilated with adrenaline.

POP POP-

Will ducked right — managing to retain a single balloon. Overhearing a snarl, he rolled off another strike's way, hand seizing his own weapon's hilt, as though by miracle. With a panicked yell, he blindly whacked back at his unhinged opponent. This coerced Dan into backing off temporarily, allowing him to haul himself afoot and somewhat recover from that nut-shot, panting.

“Is this really how you want to win?! By inflicting as much pain as others did onto you?!” Will pleaded desperately. In that short intermission, however, he fully assessed the geek's state. Those disheveled strands, scruffy garments… Most of all, those flaming orbs, which looked one second away from turning watery. It sank in — currently, this individual couldn't be reasoned with.

Through his peripheral vision, he caught a brief glimpse of the sidelines. Namely, Alessandro and Blake. While the former appeared more distraught than ever, the latter gave a solemn nod, seemingly directed to the brickhouse.

Focus training onto his enraged opponent, Will conjured the farm to his mind. What he fought for… And locked in… right on time.

“Quit talking about crap you don't understand!” Dan bristled, charging forth, sword poised over his shoulder for another slash. Despite how unfortunate stooping to such seemed, this fury didn't go unexploited.

“Sorry…” The brickhouse replied, swinging swiftly the moment Dan got within range. His sudden initiative took the geek off-guard…

POP

Dan dipped his head in time to save one balloon. His astonishment soon evaporated into ire, or maybe slight vindication? His assumptions were right, weren't they? They had to be. He sneered.

“At least you're more tolerable.” He derided, scrambling a couple feet away to spring back up. “Now that you've dropped the preachy bullshit.”

That statement… irked Will.

“It's not bullshit!” He snapped, his own temper taking him aback. Regardless, he proceeded, even as his adversary flared up again. “How many times do I need to repeat myself?! You're not the only person on this show hurting, you know?!” Lassitude had weakened his filter.

Unfortunately, ranting distracted him just long enough, as an irate Dan suddenly rushed him. Even with the crowd's loud warnings jolting him, whiplash prevented him from escaping fast enough. Instead of a blade meeting his remaining balloon, however, the bottom of its hilt bashed squarely into his face, knocking him backward.

“Dan!” Alessandro's disbelieving cry nearly brought the attacker to his senses. Shutting his eyes, though, he bit his bottom lip hard, and slammed his instrument onto the brickhouse's hand, knocking the latter's own weapon away.

Tuning out the masses’ reaction — as well as Brian Smith's laughter — Dan unfastened his orbs, louring his felled opponent down. Losing control completely, streamed down his cheeks, as he snarled.

“YOU THINK I DON'T FUCKING KNOW I'M A PIECE OF GARBAGE?! TRUST ME, THERE'S NO SHORTAGE OF PEOPLE WHO'VE DRILLED THAT FACT INTO MY SKULL!” He blurted, with an erratic headshake. Underneath him, the brickhouse gawked, utterly petrified. “BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?!”

Paralysis nearly rooted Will in place; however, in the corner of his peripheral vision, he discerned Fiore gesticulating frantically from the sidelines. Urging him to act. Not let all he… they endured be in vain. But how? His implement was too far away. Any endeavor to reach it would surely snap Dan off his diatribe…

“I'M SICK OF IT! SICK OF GETTING FLAMED ONLINE, WHEN ASSHOLES LIKE YOU BASICALLY THREW RIGHT AWAY!” He jabbed a finger down. “I… I BET YOU HAVE A FANBASE WHO THINKS YOU'RE COOL JUST BECAUSE OF YOUR FRAME, ANYWAY! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, BEING EITHER COMPLETELY DISREGARDED OR LOATHED!”

Oh… Maybe he didn't need it. Even so, as tears cascaded down the unstable man's face, he almost lost the courage for it. Still, another glance from Fiore and solemn nod from Blake spurred him.

“I'M FED UP WITH GETTING JUDGED, WHEN OTHERS HAVE BEEN GIVEN A PASS OR OUTRIGHT PRAISED OUTSIDE THIS GAME FOR THEIR BULLCRAP!” Dan barked, finally readying his sword. “THIS… IS… IT-”

Too late, for the brickhouse had recuperated enough. Once the dweeb's blade soared down, he rolled away, jerking afoot. Rather than fleeing — like a frustrated Dan predicted — he bulldozed his unprepared opponent, hand reaching out.

“Ow!” Dan yelped, losing his balance. “Get the fuck off-”

POP

The noise from above his head, where his adversary's fist had curled tightly, struck him quiet — bewilderment paralyzing him, his brain malfunctioning as it failed to register implications. Every soul there had followed suit in hushing up. Even as he saw his opponent's last balloon floating, denial clung on…

Until the host raced between them, pushing Dan aside. With a smarmy grin, Brian Smith tore away his ability to remain blind to reality.

“And we have our winner!”

NO, NO, NO! THIS COULDN'T BE!

“In a climatic final stand, Will managed to come out on top.” Despite raising the brickhouse's mitt by its wrist, the host's attention stayed on Dan. His delighted grin grew, as his declaration dawned on the… runner-up. “Will is the winner of DISVENTURE CAMP: OLD SCORES TO SETTLE!”

“R-Really?” Following all that strife, the brickhouse almost reckoned this all a dream. “I… won?” His shallow pants nearly stopped with bafflement.

“You better believe it!” Fiore shouted, hurdling the barrier to dash over, her adoptive father in tow. “I knew you could do it!” She cheered, her enthusiasm spreading to him, evoking a grin, as joyful tears trickled down his cheeks.

Many others followed the girl's lead — racing in to acclaim the original first-boot over his newfound success. Amidst them, Blake, despite nodding and straining on a smile, had a noticeably subdued response — his mind burdened with something. Alessandro was among those who didn't bother to approach.

N-No. P-Please- Amidst Dan's silent heartbreak, a certain polish woman accosted him with an unforgiving grin. Without hesitation, she shoved him, making him tumble onto turf.

“How do you like it, huh?” Gabby mocked, hands on her hips — Grett loitering beside her, arms crossed, smirking, too. “Finally got what you deserved — nothing, but getting called out for the piece of shit you are.”

Overwhelmed with despair, Dan found breathing difficult — spit, hiccups and snivels clashing into an incongruous, ugly din. His eyes leaked, robbing him of even the slightest shred of dignity, augmenting his shame.

“S-Shut up-” He choked out.

She laughed. “Oh, come on! Accept it already! You have no one to blame but yourself!” She accused, her voice fading into an indistinct mess within his ears — his vision blurring — as she stepped closer. Therefore, Dan failed to distinguish or hear Alessandro, as he strode into that scene, getting into a vehement argument with those two. Neither did he notice celebrations dying down, as others paid mind to this conflict.

All he saw? An opening, which he seized, staggering upward and bolting off into woodland, miraculously not crashing down.

___________

“Dan, wait!” Alessandro called, yet his disheartened, scrawny buddy had already evanesced into vegetation. Crap, crap. Given his display throughout that confrontation, Dan definitely wasn't faring well.

“Seriously?” Grett butted in. Begrudgingly, she held her best friend back so she'd neither escalate her quarrel with the model nor give that newly-minted loser chase. “You're still enabling that brat? After all he's done?” She complained.

“Mind your own business!” Blake interjected, joining the scene. Disregarding resulting glowers from both women, he approached his friend with concern. “Go check on him — we'll make sure neither of these two meddle.” Worried, Will headed over and nodded.

“Don't ruin a perfect ending.” Brian Smith rolled his eyes, but went unneeded.

“Thank you.” With that, Alessandro set off to pursue his distressed friend.

___________

Failure — no other way to put it. Empty-handed was too huge an understatement…

Time had slowed to a crawl. As though he'd legged it for hours on end, discarding any orientation as he delved farther into that botanic ocean. Enough for these past weeks — littered with his mistakes, which now popped with malicious flashiness — to rebound across the confines of his mind. Looking down upon him, condemning him…

In actuality, his sprint lasted less than five minutes. Enervated and emotionally-drained, his legs soon gave out, sending him flumping into a heap. Impact vanquished what restraint lingered. Failing to even heave his upper-body off soil, Dan bawled — floodgates bursting to make way for pent-up desolation.

He couldn't do even one thing right. Instead of that prize, he'd gained a mouthful of dirt and a tsunami of incoming hatred. So many needlessly burned connections… for nothing. What awaited him outside this hellish competition? Online scrutiny, harassment and threats. He doubted even his family would want much to do with him, once he returned.

But the worst part… he couldn't repudiate the fact all was on him. At so many points, if he'd just… not been so — what could you even call it? — things wouldn't have spiraled this far. His bed made, he'd need to lie on it — on his own. The prospect of Alessandro replacing him with Blake, Will, or anyone really, ceased to upset Dan… He'd brought it on himself. Alessandro deserved better than him…

“Dan?” A velvety tone wafted over amongst his self-deprecation. Initially, the marred runner-up ignored it, chalking that voice up to auditory hallucination. A meaty, familiar palm soon clasped his shoulder, though, disproving such notions. A shiver surged up his spine, as that warm cadence returned. “Please, talk to me.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Dan's breath hitched.

“Y-You…” Grappling to articulate a response, he snuffled. “Y-You shouldn't w-waste your time on m-me.” He chugged out. “I… don't deserve it. I'm sorry for everything.” His eyes brimmed again. “You gave me so much support, and I… couldn't even trust you in spite of that. I know I don't have the right to another request, b-but… please… go back to the others, leave me be…” He lowered his head again. “Don't make this harder than it needs to-”

Dan's plea went unfinished, as Alessandro's beefy arms looped around him — the model hefting him off the turf. Staying quiet, the scrumptious male merely hugged his broken friend. Though said individual couldn't fathom receiving another chance — not with all that baggage — he eventually melted into that embrace.

“I… I don't understand…” Dan eventually stammered. “I-I… was so horrible. To you, to Blake, even to… Will” Tremors kept racking his frame. “How can you accept me after all that?” He whimpered.

“Because you're my friend. I can't bear to see you suffer.” Alessandro answered, devoid of second-thoughts. “You made mistakes — even big ones — sure. But you were hurting, and… I know you can see you took things too far now. Right?” Receiving a meek nod, he coaxed the scraggly boy's chin up, their gazes meeting. “You'll always be my best friend.”

“I…” In spite of the vitriol awaiting him from the fandom, Dan's lips curled into a smile infused with humongous gratitude. “Thank you, Alessandro.” Eyes drifting aside, shame dampened that slight merriment. “Still… it doesn't feel right… I… need to apologize to Blake and Will, too, at least. But… I don't know how I'll face them, or the others…” He sighed.

“I promise I'll keep anyone in that clearing from targeting you.” Alessandro vowed, patting his hair. Setting Dan down, but keeping hold until the weary nerd steadied himself, he proffered a hand. “So, will you come with me?”

Inhaling deeply, Dan inclined his head.

___________

Once that duo emerged from those woods, querulous commentary soared their way. Unexpectedly, neither Gabby nor Grett got to dish it out, for Brian Smith beat them to it, airing out his rather differing grievances.

“Seriously?!” He scoffed. “Your slutty ass’ really just going to lend that twink a hand like that?!” Even some of Dan's detractors gave revolted looks at those remarks. Seems their ‘dear’ host either didn't know Dan's sexuality, forgot, or didn't care — perhaps a combination of the latter two.

Averting his gaze, a flustered Dan's still fragile resolve wilted. Which a certain surface took notice of, accosting Brian Smith.

“Newsflash, wannabe hotshot.” Blake spat, snapping fingers inches from the man's face. “Your little season's already ended. No reason for anyone to tolerate your shit. So, zip it for good, why won't you?”

Brian Smith's temper flared. “How dare you-?!”

“Trust me — very soon, that clap-back will be the last thing on your mind.”

All heads turned, beholding none other than Julia exiting the forest. Drawing closer to the group, she crossed her arms. Those brown orbs bored deep into her so-called boss, far exceeding his indignation. Said man's umbrage soon yielded to shock, as a petite officer-troop followed into view.

“Lucia?” Tom spoke up, recognizing his workplace buddy. “What's going on? Why are you here?” He quizzed, something their host — or rather, just Brian now — appeared too stunned to do.

“May fill you in later.” She reassured. “For now, though…” Cocking her head, she narrowed her eyes toward that despicable male, whose mind had begun putting pieces together, terror escalating. “You and all the contestants will have to leave right away.” She decreed.

“Don't worry — the winner will still receive their prize in a few days.” Julia assuaged potential concerns. Leveling a sidelong gander toward her ex-superior, she couldn't resist adding, “Rest assured, however, it won't come from this monster's hands.”

“F-Fuck you!” Brian snarled — pathetic bid to retain some semblance of authority. It swiftly fell apart, as a deputy strode over to handcuff him. At Lucia's instructions, the contestants began departing — a particular trio trailing behind, due to a member's reservations about mingling with others. “You have no right to do this!”

“Oh, please. You cannot be saying that, when trying to extort sex out of a contestant — and proceeding to rig votes that day to split him and his friend apart once denied — isn't even the most deplorable shit you've pulled.” Julia purposefully elucidated, right before those three went too far out of earshot.

“I knew something was up…” Blake muttered under his breath as they forged on. Though perturbed as well, Alessandro and Dan also felt relief wash over as the truth regarding that purported betrayal came out.

___________

Less than forty-five minutes later, they were taking a ride back to civilization — on a single-decker lengthier than the pair that brought them to Tipiskaw.

Gabby propped an elbow near her window, absent-mindedly watching the passing landscape. Contrasting her prior drive, longing permeated those reflected orbs. Despite Grett's assurances and reminders that doctors had ascertained Ellie wouldn't leave her, her heart throbbed whenever she recalled her beloved's compromised state.

Chin resting atop his seat's headrest, Dan observed their exchange. She didn't conduct herself like the woman yearning to see him lose, who shoved and mocked him upon succeeding…

But rather, a dismayed soul, aching over her lover's misfortune. Misfortune that — whether intentionally or not — he'd contributed to. Sound reasoning wouldn't alter how callously he lashed out, when she reproached him over that. Apologies couldn't fix this. They'd lead to her reprimanding him, he'd get defensive, and subsequently worsen matters for either party…

Keeping his distance was for the best.

Slumping down to a sitting posture, he sighed, both hands settling on his lap. A hand gripped his drooping shoulder, prompting him to cock his noggin to meet Alessandro's good-natured look. That gentle countenance soothed his spirit greatly.

“Remember; just because certain bridges are burnt permanently, doesn't mean every single one is.” Alessandro assured.

“And new bonds can always come along, too.” Blake inputted, drawing the geek's attention.

Oh yeah… he had another affair to attend to — it was overdue.

“Blake? I… I'm sorry about how everything went down.” Dan heaved a contrite breath. “Getting jealous of how close you and Alessandro were getting…” Doing some introspection, he resumed. “I was afraid I'd be left with no one…” His memories rewound to his original elimination. “And I may have thought history would repeat itself, in some way.” Embarrassed with himself, he shook his head. “It was ridiculous of me, I know.”

Guffawing, Blake gave a handwave. “Hey, don't sweat it, dude. Not like I was squeaky-clean, morality-wise.” Quieting down, he grinned. “We're alright.”

“I'm also glad to see you're okay, Dan.” Another interjected — cueing the trio to tilt their heads to spot Will, who'd left his seat to come and talk. “I know we didn't really spend much time together, but I hope everything goes well for you, even though you didn't win.”

“Oh…” Dan chuckled sheepishly, narrowly managing to push past mounting regret. Looking back with a clear mind, he couldn't believe how aggressive he'd gotten with Will mere hours ago. “I admit, I'll probably get some therapy. My run here's shown I might need some guidance — I'm not trying to deal with alone hate on my own again.” He conceded. “Regardless, not winding up alone is already more than I should ask for.” Wincing, he rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry for everything, by the way.”

“It's fine, truly.” Will reassured. Exchanging one last look with the other two, he walked away.

Will retook his spot a couple rows down that aisle — with Fiore, Alec and Connor. Succeeding that tension assailing everyone less than two hours ago, this placid ride shone all the brighter. As Fiore made a quip about him freeing Ashley from her parents’ disappointment regarding her past party-related antics, he stifled a giggle. When Alec playfully set his newfound daughter on his lap, as though she were five, he chuckled at her mild pout.

Across that vehicle, many other groups stayed within their own little worlds. Tom and Jake snoozed against one another. Hunter, Ally and Tess conferred over the soonest opportunity for the latter to move in with her newfound partners. Nick and Karol, though initially trying to upstage one another in terms of how “robbed” they were, eventually shook hands on allying, should they ever get another chance to compete.

Letting issues temporarily slip off his mind, Will reclined into the backrest — savoring this simple mirth, and with new confidence in himself…

___________

Jolting upright with a start, ragged breaths echoed through a cramped, poorly-maintained apartment. Another nightmare about that godforsaken season… Of course, it just kept cropping up as the month neared its end. Why should Julia get tranquility before she gets evicted, right?

“Damn it…” She muttered, clenching that unwashed duvet — her impending homelessness nagging her mind.

Since that horrid spin-off wrapped up, she'd tried to shove down her grief, to seek employment elsewhere. Yet, controversy seemed to compromise even innocent parties… Or maybe trauma affected her performance more than she could admit. Eventually, she'd resigned herself to incoming destitution. Apparently, she was just too broken to ever function again…

Upon successfully bringing that deplorable bastard to justice, her drive had given way to… hollowness. John was gone. She almost wished she hadn't been present when police disinterred his carcass. That burnt visage irreversibly tainted his memory.

Summoning Brian's remorseless expression to her mind, Julia gnashed her teeth, itching to pummel him all over again. That bastard didn't have the decency to stay quiet — no, he made a snide comment, then spat on the corpse. She loathed him. For killing her friend. For ruining her. Her only solace was knowing he'd rot in jail, never to host again.

Even then, that consolation soured, given this behind-the-scenes tragedy allegedly paled in comparison to the onscreen ‘travesty’ that was DC4 — according to Disventure Camp's possibly disturbed fanbase. Recollecting the announcement that an Old Scores To Settle sequel might come, as DC5 went into hiatus, Julia shuddered.

Julia's shitty smartphone bleeped. Turning toward the nightstand, where it lay, she huffed. Probably just a scam not worth humoring. Her heart beat quickly, still. Then again, no way she'd fall asleep once more tonight.

Well, no harm in checking it out, I suppose. She figured, grabbing the device. Turning it on, her eyes flicked onto the WhatsApp notification. Alright, let's see what a sleazy vendor wants to advertise today- Tapping on the pop-up to hop on the app and read, her bemused face fell.

A hoax… I-It had to be- Copy-pasting the address onto Google, however, revealed it was the real deal. Bewildered, yet engrossed now, she returned to WhatsApp, orbs scanning the text.

“As someone very attached to this show, and who's decided to return following both DC4's failure and… the ordeal that OSTS entailed, I would deeply appreciate your support in continuing the latter, in return for a much fairer offer than what you were dealt the first time.

— Kristal McLane”