Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Commencing this next installment in a franchise mired in controversy — so much, it should've ensured it stayed a one-infamous-season deal — thrilling guitar strings and drumbeats greeted viewers’ ears, accompanied with landscape panoramas.

Jaunty doves winging peacefully above foliage, headed towards mountainous terrain far away. Cut. Panning slowly across a low promontory. Cut. Zooming out from a wooden sign, supported by two rickety stilts.

Hopping into frame, a tanned lady pirouetted theatrically to front the lens. She donned a copper-hued button-up with white undersleeves — its lower half tied in a fashion that exposed her navel. Alongside a black skirt. An orange scrunchy held her inky-hair in a ponytail.

“Figured this show wouldn't return, did you?” She teased, pointing a finger forward, a palm planted on her hip. Actually conducting this opening deluged her with exhilaration. Her lips curled. “Don't blame you — everything nearly got ruined due to what a certain pair of imbeciles pulled. Don't worry, though. They're rotting in prison!”

Guffawing, she composed herself. An intro needed recording, after all. Upraising both arms, she beamed, perfectly aligned teeth gleaming under sunlight.

“I'm Kristal McLane! Your new — much better — host! Here to guide you through this exciting new romp! You'll get a front-row to fourteen spanking new contestants enduring a grueling bunch of weeks!”

Cut to Kristal, interposed between two differently colored mats, each with a pole bearing a banner. Grinning still, she proceeded.

“Divided into two teams, they'll compete for immunity in arduous challenges.” Next, she lingered behind a timber stand. “Each round, the losing side must vote off one of their own, in a climatic ceremony.” Finally, she lounged playfully on a stump that would soon bear a distraught camper. “Sounds simple?” She quizzed rhetorically, breaking into a light snicker. “Well, just you wait!”

___________

Tyres rolled over asphalt — belonging to a scarlet minibus, its side visors allowing all passengers a look into lush flora and crisp, unlittered aether. For those interested in admiring scenery, anyway. Such demographic would prove quite diminutive…

___________

Despite mustering as much self-restraint as possible, the skunk-haired twink loosened another chuckle. He couldn't help it — seeing his very dreams unfurl before him!

Reality television solaced him throughout the harshest years of his life. Following countless rejected applications and auditions, he finally struck lightning. Who cared about this show's shady past? Those deranged hosts were locked away, to be replaced by a surely saner person.

What mattered? Partaking in strategy, surviving as many rounds as possible. To be frank, he just aimed to persevere through the pre-merge phase, at least. You know, so as not to seem a fraud. Though, engagement would doubtless impel him to gun for that prize. He couldn't wait!

“Heh, you seem chipper…” A nasally, embarrassed chuckle snipped his rumination. Looking at the occupant beside him, a stubby, puffy-haired, spectacled man greeted him — donning a blue hoodie. Almost… familiar, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it.

“Oh… sorry there. This has just been a slight dream of mine. Getting to test my skills in a fashion such as this, I mean.” He stammered sheepishly. Wanting to avoid rousing too much suspicion, he plastered on a quizzical look. “Did you appear somewhere before? You look a bit familiar.”

“Did you watch last season?” Those puffy cheeks flushed. “I… may have tested some challenges as an intern. Really glad to be within the game, rather than around it, this time.” Shaking his noggin, he handwaved it. “By the way, name's Oliver!”

The dual-haired guy shrugged nonchalantly, humming. “I suppose I watched some promos.” He inclined his head. “My name's Aiden.” Thankfully, mister ex-intern didn't notice the strain on his smile.

—Confessional :Aiden—

“Damn it, Aiden!” The fanboy bonked his temple. Audiences would probably view that sequence less than five minutes in — did he really need to discredit himself that swiftly?!

Shoulders heaving, he poured out his pent-up devotee outrage.

“Lock in, this is the opportunity of a lifetime! How did you let a former staff member slip by like that?” Wrath melting to distress, he rubbed his head's sides. He drew a long intake. “Just be more attentive from now on. This is your dream. Don't screw it up…”

—End Confessional—

“Someone looks excited,” Rosa Maria — a latina, sporting an avocado crop-top, avocado jeans, and with a pendant — giggled, fingering her damson strands on the side.

Paralleling Aiden and Oliver's row, she observed their exchange fondly. Perceiving merriment, whether temporary or not, soothed her mind. She hoped some of this ostensible harmony would last, heading into this game.

“Both their auras ultimately lean toward the light side. Of course, not perfectly — that's simply not possible.” Another drawled beside her, raspiness apparent. Someone about as skinny as Aiden, though both his forest-green hair — tied into a tuft — and bluish-garments were quite scruffier. Cross-legged, he maintained a meditative carriage, eyes shut.

“Interesting…” Rosa mused, appraising him curiously. His shtick seemed a little… much, but she'd rather not judge. She fancied her horoscope-reading. As long as it didn't hurt anyone, she saw little issue. “I'm Rosa — what's your name?”

Unfastening his brown orbs, Kai beamed her way, his posture immaculate. “Call me Kai, please. Your nature is quite pure — admirable, really.” See? Approachable thus far.

“Thanks, I do try and treat others how I'd like them to treat me.” She nodded, before quirking an eyebrow. “By chance, do you have more reads on the others?” She queried.

Eyes shutting serenely, Kai commenced. “Matter of fact, I…”

“We sure we didn't mistakenly get cast onto a pilot?” Quibbled a grating, nagging voice farther down the aisle.

Early forties, mocha-toned and narrow-lidded, Karol thrust back into her seat — repulsion contorting her facial features. Eye twitching, she fanned away the air enfolding them. It was nearly unbreathable within this tumbledown tin-can! Acrimony surged instantly.

“Because, seriously, it shouldn't be this fetid here!” She spat, arms soaring upward. “This got renewed for another season — there should be money for an A/C!” Her upper-limbs shot back to her sides, fists curled. This rant engendered an eye-roll from her fellow row occupant.

“Jeez — menopause's hitting you that hard, girl?”

Inspecting his nails, korean young-adult — Yul — grew a cocksure smirk, his slitted right eyebrow raised an inch. Lashing flame designs emblazoned his midriff-top, earrings adorning his lobes. Coaxing his head her way, he eyed her desultorily.

“Why are you bitching, anyway?” He tutted. “I'm attractive as hell — and shouldn't be caught dead here. Do you see me cosplaying a banshee?” Flicking his bowl-styled hair, he sneered. “You're probably not even attractive enough for a mirror to tolerate. Trust me, riding this cesspool can't make those wrinkles any worse.”

Words failed Karol — so caught off-guard, her brain short-circuited. Gaze perusing this impudent douchebag, her eye twitched. As those mordant syllables registered, her teeth grinding together. Hands constricted tighter than ever. That damn-

“Goddamn!” Insufferable hooting split Karol's mounting spleen amongst two cynores, rendering acting upon them too complicated under current conditions. Nettled, her pupils scorched to bore into whoever barged in — repugnance suffusing her lour at the answer.

Phone angled with practiced precision, a twenty-something man let loose a galvanized laugh. A camera-ready grin graced his chiseled jaw. Discreetly gazing at his screen's corner, he kept track of his TikTok stats. Hadn't anticipated spats to break out immediately. However, James Costa didn't let an opportunity slip…

Oh… both spotted him. The grumpy lady scowled murderously, whereas that sort of attractive fellow arched a quizzical brow. Good call, not showing this live as he'd deliberated on. Editing covered almost anything, including him embarrassing himself.

Shame didn't cross James’ mind, as he shrugged.

“Pretend I'm not here.” He urged, keeping his device positioned and filming. Viewers’ short attention spans precluded them from pointing out sudden cuts, especially within juicy content. “My followers love heated cat-fights, and you're both devouring on that front.”

Was this brainrot influencer serious? Karol's palms ached, pleading to inflict grievous damage upon these ruffians. Her curbing such urges didn't stem from some moral high-ground — hell no!

Scouring their vicinity, she observed myriad eyes on them. Did she yearn to assert herself? Duh! But willing to erupt right then and there, in front of everyone, before even reaching those jerry-built campgrounds? Judgment may pile on relentlessly, stamping her atop people's immediate target list.

Conjuring tremendous self-control, Karol flounced afoot. Arms crossed, she stomped off in search of another spot, blanking those assholes, who shared smirks.

Passing a burgundy-shirted, tattooed male, Karol glared his way. Caught off-guard, he waved, feigning a self-assured grin. Sensing wealth wafting off him, she snarled. Under that loathing glower, his front crumbled, shades hanging precariously as his noggin drooped. Tsking, Karol stalked on.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Disrespectful twat, obnoxious influencer and haughty rich male.” She listed, hands slapping onto her knees. “Great! Three incredible types, converging onto this shitshow for my delight. Fantastic!” She snarked.

—Confessional :Connor—

“Guess she doesn't vibe with swag.” That fellow mused.

Strands overtaken with grey hues, he was indubitably the oldest amongst his fellow contenders. Beef and rather defined features kept him relatively delectable. Reclining, he waved that mishap off, chuckling.

“To be fair, she's probably been living a while, too. Figures; modern trends are not her thing. The rest will probably jive with it.”

—End Confessional—

“I… I think that was uncalled for — from both of you.” A timid German cadence interrupted both younger men, a pale countenance peeking beside James. Whiffing pervading air, she coughed, head jerking forth. “Her complaints weren't entirely unfounded.” Neither espied her fiddling with her blonde hair rather frantically for a split-second.

Squinting at Yul's eye-roll, James posited his mobile device — resuming filming in record time. More fuel to attract consumers.

“Oh!” Gasping with faux scandal, Yul smacked a palm onto his forehead with widened eyes. “Bootleg doll number 12918281 is offended?! Lord, may you forgive me — for I doubt I'll survive!” He exclaimed.

Enfolding silence lasted several moments. Blinking, he leaned closer to Lake, dropping the act.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He crooned. “I survived. Guess bullcrap basic-sweater-wearing, hair-flower girls spout isn't important. What a surprise… Not!” Flicking her nose, he cackled.

—Confessional :Lake—

Slumped into her seat, she whispered toward the lens.

“I… guess people here won't be as agreeable as I'd hoped.” Drawing a breath, she straightened her posture, regaining composure. “More incentive to play smart.” She stated.

—End Confessional—

Oversized fingers fidgeted, their owner restive. Clasping them together, she heaved a discontent puff. She lacked a seating partner — unsure whether her presence repelled others, or that location eluded them. Disgust or ignorance… Common ways peers regarded her.

Regret seeped through her promptly, sending jitters through her humongous stature. Good thing a ginger bang screened a watery eye. Slinging her lengthy braid over one shoulder, she suppressed bubbling desolation. Tears? Unneeded — not like she'd never faced loneliness beforehand.

—Confessional :Maggy—

Embracing herself, she expelled frazzled air, fingertips burrowing into her pink shirt in distress.

“I'm not sure what I was thinking…” She conceded, head lolling. “I auditioned mostly to try making friends, but… even I can already see that's unlikely.” She lamented. “Obviously, no one wanted a seat next to me. I… just hope they don't want me off the team entirely t-too soon…”

—End Confessional—

“What's the matter, daddy's girl?” Yul snickered. Gripping onto the headrest, he heaved his upper body over it, orbs trained onto an uncomfortable Lake, huddled on an edge. “Too sensitive for some smack-talk?” He egged on.

Quitting his recording app, James scooted away, unnerved. Not only did that border on harassment — Yul's approach grew mean-spirited, even to him. Others leveled discomforted gazes their way, prompting Yul to huff, sinking back to his slot.

“I was just mocking her. She's not pretty enough for me.” He remarked, presuming their thought-process without care to know her age. “If you thought otherwise, you're the perverts.”

“Excuse me?” Rosa challenged. Beside her, Kai unfastened an eye, which roved over that arrogant male, skepticism surging with each second. Standing off her seat, she accosted Yul. “You shouldn't be doing even that!” She asserted, index plunging into his pointy chin.

Everyone spectated their quarrel, including Maggy. Distance didn't diminish her engrossment, marveling at the intrepid woman's unwavering stance. A truly inspiring sight.

Remaining seated, Yul frowned. His pupils flitted up and down, taking her figure in. Who did this incontrovertible prostitute think she was? Trying to boss him — Yul Kim — around?! Fat chance!

“Oh, getting all high and mighty now, are we?” He derided, making her bunch both fists. Blowing flippant air, he averted his gaze. “You should pick up your phone — the brothel probably isn't letting you take weeks off to compete-”

Seamless as crashing into concrete, their minibus screeched to an unannounced halt. Whereas most clutched something on reflex, and Rosa thankfully managed to brace herself against another seat to avoid a tumble, inertia banged an unsuspecting piece of work onto the passenger seat ahead.

“Ow!” Shoving his face off that coarse material, Yul growled. “What the fuck was that?! Was your driver's license revoked a decade ago?!” He barked at the driver's compartment, as everyone swiveled its way.

Impervious to those gripes, their bus-driver — Marcus — got off the driver's chair, his lanky figure making a couple smaller contestants uneasy. Effusing an off-putting quality, he exacerbated that upon turning to greet them. Although his garments were ordinary, the way his sizable hat, blackout shades, mustache and beard concealed most facial features unsettled quite a few.

“Attention, everyone. Nina has something important to say.”

Elevating a hand, what it bore didn't help tensions. An extremely uncanny marionette stared into their souls, with its unblinking- Nevermind.

“Listen up, morons!” Shivers spread through that small crowd, as the doll spoke. Voicework and lip-synching were quite spectacular, though it merited more fright than applause currently. “The bus has ceased functioning, so you'll have to race the remainder of the way to camp. Your first challenge. Last two arrivals will be eliminated…” Its- Her orbs glowed red, a demonic hiss layering her voice. “Forever!”

“Y-Yeah, understood!” Aiden backed briskly toward the exit, a smile strained onto his face. Certainly not a flattering demonstration of his penchant for acting.

Could you fault him? What was up with that man and his… puppet? Animatronic? While the latter possibility might explicate its uncanny vitality, weren't those expensive? Why expend such resources on… that? Unless this Nina was meant to play a bigger role later on. Swallowing a lump within his throat, he prayed that wouldn't transpire-

Lacking attention, combined with his rush to leave, resulted in his foot overshooting at the exit — missing the step entirely. “Crap!” Aiden yelped, not coordinated enough to regain balance timely. Air swished against his cheeks. Eyes shutting, he braced himself for the fall…

“Woah there, buddy!” Two sturdy arms looped around Aiden's waist. This unexpected salvation jolted his head upward. His gaze met a smarmy smirk, augmented with suave, half-lidded eyes. One quirked, intrigued. “Say, didn't catch your name on the bus ride. Mine's James — wouldn't be surprised if you knew already, though.” James winked, flustering him.

Momentarily, words died on Aiden. Years diving into reality television fandoms, engrossed amongst leaks, debates and such — didn't help his real-life visibility much. Most fellows his age went to raves, or congregated with peers. He rooted for some cocksure asshole to get humbled on some D-grade slot filler.

Of course, it didn't bother him! He just… couldn't help but feel the occasional disconnect. Perhaps his fascinations had kept him from dabbling in relationships, crushes, or even superficial allure-

“Hello?” James teased. Wait, this guy hadn't released him yet?

Oh… fantastic. Reminds him of that fucking asshole he wanted clocked. As tempting as vicariously living out his fantasy of telling that disgrace to fuck off looked, Aiden abstained. Slagging people off before getting to camp wouldn't be a good first-impression. Getting booted first? Absolute humiliation. Who'd overplay so recklessly?

“Aiden.” Blurting that curtly, he wrenched off that influencer's grasp, dusting himself. “Thanks for the save.” He managed, catching himself before he got too impolite, too soon. An endeavor doubtless not assisted by the snicker meeting him, in turn.

“Well, Aiden.” Posing slightly — a palm on one hip — James emphasized that name, raising his cell-phone. “If you feel indebted, let me tell you how to repay me.” He chirped, missing the boy's frown. “Just follow me on my TikTok — JamesC-”

“You lovebirds did hear that creep’s threat, right?” That scowling, middle-aged lady — Karol, as Aiden recalled overhearing sometime on their way here — scoffed. Passing them, she kept glancing over her shoulder their way. “I can tell the phone-addict probably doesn't care. But you? Have some sense!” She refocused on her sprint.

Nasty and callous? Perhaps a little. But a needed reminder, nonetheless. To Aiden, anyway. His “new friend” tsked, folding his arms and louring at the older woman, as she evanesced down that rundown road.

“What does that out-of-touch Karen know?” James grunted, overlooking most of their castmates sweeping past. Getting a headstart on them. The E-boy's eye-roll eluded him, too.

Clout-chaser, clearly. Inhaling sharply, Aiden curbed an urge to snap. Online forum tones didn't gel well with face-to-face interaction, he presumed. Blowing up on everyone day-one? Sure-fire way to meet an untimely boot. He surmised, in his jittery state — a dubious source, but…

“She has a point.” Aiden spoke, earning a pout. Seriously? Between frowns, glares and scowls — a pout, when they've just met? He should just leave him. Potential alliance, nagged his inner critic. “I mean…” His gaze trailed to that smartphone. “What do you think your fans will think, seeing you leaving before the season even starts?” He quizzed.

Blank blinking, then-

A sharp tug on his wrist drew a yelp. Well, at least something worked. He suspected his legs might ache until tomorrow once done running, and his stomach-contents may not stay down, but…

Yeah, this will be a long season…

—Confessional :Aiden—

“Okay, I got flustered for a second there, before James opened his mouth, anyway.” He conceded, foot tapping turf around his stump. Fervent denial would incite further speculation.

Shifting, he folded his upper limbs.

“But I'd rather not spurn him entirely right off the bat.” He added with a shrug. “Can't discard the possibility of working with him.”

—End Confessional—

___________

Flanking that path, woodland spanned beyond what vision could capture. Quaint and comfortable. Hundreds of miles apart from civilization, tranquility ruled — spared from suburban flurry. A natural haven, safe from overwhelming noise. Leaf-rustles, alongside light breeze, formed an ambience that staved off disconcerting hush. Redolent of neither the city nor home.

Relishing an indrawn breath, a relatively built male smiled. Jokesters would deem his simplistic enjoyment fitting, given his wear — either that, or they'd skip inventing connections and call him emo. Gray boots, shirt and– okay, inky-hued pants; however, those barely strayed from his other garments. Perhaps to compensate, he donned a skull-necklace, too. Edgy? Eh… Initially, he just found it cool. Over the years, however, he grew attached. Nothing too deep.

Humming, Hunter's eyes lingered over the treeline. Sunlight filtered through needles, producing patchy shadows. Rather cozy. Almost made him want to stop, sit down and take a break beneath that shade — fiddling with his rubix cube…

Oh, right, the puppet's warning! Last two arrivals were done. Better to concentrate now; otherwise, he may get kicked back into tumult immediately. Let's not forget everyone's principal incentive for coming, too. Regaining focus, he appraised the path ahead.

And thus, saw a figure.

Inky navy-hair — passing for undiluted black unless one squinted. Amidst that desultory jog, both that mane and an orange jacket wrapped around the woman's waist swayed lazily, lashing her white shirt and strap top gently. Her gait effused disinterest, yet such seemed lost on Hunter, who perked up.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Getting an opportunity to start interacting with someone one-on-one is very fortunate for me.” He tittered, tracing idle circles on the lateral side of his pants. Cheeks flushing, he faltered, recognizing implications. Averting his gaze, he puffed. “Fine, I'm not the best socially.” He allowed, before lifting a finger. “But I do know competitions like this can't be won, if you go in expecting to manage all on your own.”

—End Confessional—

“Looks as though there's a decent distance between us and the rest, huh?” Hastening, he ran abreast the aloof female. His optimism — or folly, to some — precluded ponderation over whether her misanthropic aura indicated anything. Besides, never judge appearances, right? “You're… Tess, wasn't it? My name's Hunter.”

“Not sure why you're hassled to remember it, but yes.” Her monotone cadence unraveled his confidence. Cocking her noggin his way, she sized him up with a desultory, arched eyebrow. Shaking her head with a sigh, she stared forth again. “And I prefer they keep away, anyway.” She added.

“Oh…” Escaped him. Crap — that wasn't meant to leave his mind! Did those words read as judgmental? Maybe those cards his mother's acquaintances suggested — derisive tones notwithstanding — could have come in handy- No, that'd be ludicrous and worsen affairs. Just… try salvaging this, yeah. “You know what they say; better alone than badly partnered.”

“Better alone than in bad company?” Tess corrected, sensing Hunter's intense flush without glancing. Outside his view, she smirked at his flub. However, she caught herself swiftly, indifference washing it away. “Agreed.”

Orbs flicking aside, Hunter cringed. Way to simultaneously botch a proverb and give an excuse to get ditched. Would sticking to basics have helped? He hadn't canvassed anything really personal, beyond the broadest of strokes. Was even that too much? Further simplifying probably meant sticking to only base-level introductions, which he doubted would fare much better…

Or now wasn't the time. Last two arrivals got booted, he recalled that admonition. Tess may just regard this seriously — no sense risking an early departure to converse a mere hour or so sooner, he supposed. Given her demeanor, Hunter doubted it, but who knew? Maybe she'd turn less taciturn at camp?

“Um, sorry for bothering you. I understand you might prefer to focus on getting there first. I should probably do the same…” Head pivoting her way, he found she'd absconded this exchange — sprinting a decent way ahead. Hanging his head, he refrained from picking his pace to catch up.

—Confessional :Hunter—

“Good job, Hunter. Guess I'm not as fortunate as I thought.” Facepalming, he puffed with embarrassment. “Should have anticipated this, given how little Tess spoke on the ride here.” He sighed.

Despite his embarrassing first impression, he really wanted to get acquainted with her more. Why? A couple reasons occurred to him, yet he couldn't pinpoint exact causes. Considering his social track record, he didn't feel inclined to conjecture.

“Maybe lying low is for the best?” He hypothesized, trying to perceive matters positively. “Makes others less likely to target me before I've gained footing. And who knows? Perhaps an opportunity will come to me.” He digressed.

—End Confessional—

Tuning out pants and footfalls around him, Kai let brushing leaves, eeping birds and chirping crickets soothe him as he forged on. A wondrous ambience. Drawing an intake of fresh, outdoor air, he grinned. His chakras had truly aligned to give him that sudden disposition to audition.

Tranquility didn't last, however. For his imperviousness solely extended to pointless emissions — not auras that might benefit from immediate consultation. Nearing that young, flower-haired blond, his face twitched with disturbance. Rather alarming. Usually, identifying turbulence necessitated at least a nugget of prior interaction.

Which compelled him to intervene even more.

“Lake, wasn't it?” He commenced without announcing his presence beforehand. Such formalities were fickle, after all. Speeding up, he raced beside the startled girl. “Excuse my intrusion, but I can't help but want to reach out to such a troubled soul.”

“Hello there. You're… Kai, right?” Lake answered, straining on a discomfitted smile back. His coming had blindsided her. His “greeting” — could it even be called that? — repelled her. Still, she gave him a brief chance. “I'm fine right now. I'm unsure what gave the impression I wasn't doing well.”

Eyes shutting, the hipster emanated a pondering hum. “Forgive me, but that doesn't sound right.” He mused, in hopes words lanced through her barriers. “Your soul, though ultimately well-intended in nature, is experiencing great pressure. An insidious force that may drive you to acts unlike yourself…”

Unfastening his eyes, he journeyed alone, the German girl darting far ahead. Sighing, he glanced over his shoulder. Scanning a sight transpiring not too far behind, he perked up — notice captured once more. He watched with wide, sympathetic eyes.

—Confessional :Kai—

Settled, cross-legged, on his stump, he meditated. This single jog had filled his mind with a lot to weigh. Good? Bad? The latter seemed more prominent, but who was he to emphatically judge the universe's manner of operation? He just… wanted to play his part in its hopefully more good-natured designs.

“I cannot meddle in Lake's personal affairs without her consent, of course.” He recognized. “I can only pray she doesn't topple down a spiraling abyss.”

—Confessional :Lake—

“I hope he didn't take my sudden exit to heart.” Her expression tightened shortly with a smidge of contrition. “That wasn't my intent.”

Legs tucked together, she didn't feel entitled to much space. Decorum? Shame? Perhaps a mix. One hand resting on her lap, the other fiddled with that flower fastened to her bright strands.

“It's just…” Her orbs drifted, as she pondered an appropriate description. “His mien is somewhat off-putting, for starters.” She grimaced at her own words. “His statements were a bigger concern, though. Not only did they give a certain… impression about his character. He got inquisitive way too swiftly for my liking…”

Despite her long-winded speech, she didn't look done. No matter what else she had in mind, however, she reconsidered.

—End Confessional—

Maggy squinted, endeavoring to see through one eye. Self-consciousness deterred her from brushing aside the bang obscuring half her vision. By cruel fate, one of her new peers might happen to rush past — determined not to lose this competition immediately. They may happen to skate too close, right as she elevates her freakish limb. And then… Past incidents inculcated a fear of her own strength. Better not to risk it.

She distinguished a couple figures up ahead. Another source of anxiety? However, she recollected lagging faces that hadn't come close to passing her. Though not leading, she wasn't dead last either. Good, she supposed. Her pre-existing worries hounded her enough.

“Going to show them all…” Muttering jolted her off rumination. Orbs flicking left, they alighted on that dumpy guy… Oliver, right? He seemed congenial enough- “They think I'll just wind up as fodder? They'll eat those words!”

Flummoxed, Maggy considered him apprehensively. What did he refer to? Should she ask? Trying to envision that prospect from his perspective, her countenance crumbled. Who would open up to an abnormal behemoth inquiring into their motivations? Not worth that risk… But perhaps greeting him normally would pan out decently? It sounded as though someone looked down on him, too. In turn, he might be less judging himself.

Please, don't go horribly… Inhaling profusely, she waved kindly to gain his attention.

“Hey there…” She commenced bashfully. Her social skills hadn't progressed a smidge these past few years. Despite that, she understood the basics. In general — which she felt obligated to adhere to — start with exchanging names. “I'm Maggy… Um…” She stumbled, unsure what to discuss.

“I've got my eye on you.” Oliver cut her off, startling her into slowing down. Eyes widening, she found her throat clogged. She hadn't expected this. Fear? Insults? She'd faced beforehand. But this… “You're clearly a threat. Any kind facade you try putting on won't fool me!” He proclaimed, putting his foot in the gas, leaving her in the dust.

Shock dissipated, giving way to dejection. Head drooping, Maggy barely managed to muster the will not to decelerate or outright halt. So much for harboring an inkling of hope… She gulped down a whimper, fearing it would disgust fellow contestants, coming from her.

—Confessional :Maggy—

Visible unease suffused her features, as she vainly adjusted in her stump. She failed to unearth a comfortable position. Upon nearly tumbling off her seat, she resigned herself to misfortune.

“I…” Gripping her elbow, she ejected a stung breath. “Guess being called a game-threat is better than getting labeled a freak… again…” Her paltry self-consolation did her no favors. “Why did I expect this place to be much different?”

—End Confessional—

“Fast-Forward one million followers later~” Chin elevated, Yul held that syllable a moment longer, boasting with slight musical flair. “Came the first of countless major brand deals!” He bragged, smug gaze flicking over to his audience.

“Ohhh, interesting.” James responded, tailing him. Inwardly, the influencer still preened. Despite starting in dead-last, he'd hustled himself and Aiden off that disadvantage. Goes to show you should never underestimate James Costa. Raising an eyebrow, he cracked a smirk. “Yet, your name's not ringing any bells.” He quipped.

The bowlhair's haughty countenance switched to annoyance. Gratification deluged the Brazilian social media presence. Viewers always loved a well-timed clap-back, and this man running before him? Odds were; he wouldn't quit making himself an ideal target anytime soon.

“Excuse me?” Yul bristled, interposing an extra few feet between them. That attention-seeker didn't deserve to stand so close anymore — not after that insolent remark. Gaze narrowing, he jabbed a finger to his face. “That's simply a culture deficit on your brainrotted part. Have you been to South Korea?”

“Oh, right.” James snorted back, enjoying getting under his skin a tad.

“Exactly. Keep to your lane.” Yul sniped, making the other's eye twitch. “In fact, if you have anything else to add regarding my career, keep it to yourself until you're at my level at least!” He decreed. Jerking his head forth again, he drew a sharp intake — regaining composure. “I came here to be a hot ‘normal guy’.”

“I see.” James mused, eyes roving across arrogance-laden figure. Quite exasperating, indeed. But celebrity status — even if from somewhere as distant as Korea — did affect how much he could argue with this brat. Getting too heated may jeopardize his own profession. “Guess you're not the worst actor I've seen.”

“Oh, that's not my job.” Yul grinned, pompous once more. “Not surprised I'm excelling at it, though. I always ace anything I do.” Every peasant here would do well to realize that, quickly — he didn't vocalize that last assertion, of course. “There's a reason I've gotten over a million people thirsting for me.”

“Fair point.” James snapped a thumb his way, pleased. Though slighted, preserving his public image mattered far more. Speaking of… “Don't get too comfortable with your spot, since I plan on joining you soon. By milking every moment here to expand my following.” Staring toward the lens, he beamed. “To those watching, follow me on my TikTok, @JamesCosta!”

“Riveting…” Aiden choked out between pants, fending off lassitude. Squinting, he spotted their goal ahead, thus allaying concerns about potentially running off gas before arrival. It frustrated him, nevertheless. Had James not sidetracked them initially — subsequently requiring added exertion to compensate — he wouldn't need to worry. The guy better not screw him over during challenges, should they share a team.

“Wow…” Riya inclined her head deferentially, plastering on a smile. “That's extremely impressive, from both of you. To connect with and be admired by so many.” She commended.

“Oh please! Who said anything about connections?” Yul interjected, hitching his jawline upward. “My fans just recognize my superiority, that's all there is to it. If anything, I should have more!” He bragged.

“My followers know they can always count on me to make them laugh, or pull off their craziest trend request.” James chimed in, winking. “If you'd like more information, maybe subscribe so you can study my content.” He crowed.

“Right…” Trailing off, she tittered sheepishly, dissembling tested patience. “I'll get back to you on that one.”

—Confessional :Riya—

“So much for hoping either of those two was gracious enough to potentially lend a hand later on…” She bemoaned. Arms folded, she slung a leg over the other.

Outfit? Nothing elaborate, but pleasing regardless. A short-sleeved, crimson jacket over a yellow dress. Hues complemented her moderate brown complexion and hair — the latter styled in a ponytail — alongside her similarly-tinged orbs.

“Even so, I suppose working on my social media handle wouldn't hurt. Given its prominence out here, I should probably focus on adapting, too.” She considered.

—End Confessional—

Quietness didn't set in, for a much larger source of awkwardness raced over, puffing with some strain, to join that line.

“Speaking of that, how about you guys follow me on MySpace?” Connor chirped, shades glinting atop his forehead. Surely, his vibe was on point now, right? No harm in ensuring it, though. “Much easier than going to actual space, right?” He quipped, chortling.

Cicadas chorused — all four heads turning to assess him. Both online presences traded deadpan looks, prior friction fully forgotten as their questions aligned — was this geezer serious? Averting her gaze, Riya caught their exchange, her own cringing expression mellowed with unexpressed sympathy. That man trailing after them, though odd, seemed to mean well. But…

Shooting the middle-aged, bulkier male an utterly perplexed look, Aiden blurted. “What the hell is MySpace?” Brain on the fritz, it pivoted toward raunchier propositions. His eyes narrowed. “Are you advertising some sort of OnlyFans knock-off?”

“What's that?” Connor questioned, perplexed. Though that response cleared his name, it flabbergasted the quartet. In turn, his own cheeks flushed. It sounded unsavory — and his unawareness appeared appalling to those four, too. “I was just-”

“Sir, no one's been using MySpace since ancient times. I know you must be from the medieval age, but come on.” James chided, shaking his head. Why did someone like this even come here? “You sure you signed onto the right show?”

“Yes…” Connor answered, brow furrowing. Where was he going with this? “Why do you ask-” Once again, not allowed the luxury to finish.

“I suggest you just let yourself get auto-eliminated.” Yul derided. “Last time I checked, there aren't any nurses amongst the staff, in case the dementia begins to take hold.” Those words stung, taking a toll upon the older man's pace. “Let's get going, before he forgets our names.” He cackled, speeding up.

“Good idea!” James stretched out an arm, clasping Aiden's wrist. “Come on, buddy!” They skedaddled, despite the e-boy's pleas not to put further stress on his feet. Leaving only two individuals.

“I…”

“I understand. Wouldn't want to cost you the game.” Connor mumbled, not meeting her gaze. Head lowered, his step had taken another hit. “I'll meet the rest of you there.”

“I'm sorry…” Riya mouthed, hastening so as to evade an instant exit. Strapped for time, she hoped she'd bond with some faces around here. Otherwise, her heavy heart may grapple with moving on from that innocuous man's seemingly inevitable boot.

At least some folks around her acted sort of nice. Connor took solace in that. Even so, pretty humiliating to fumble so hard, so soon. Perhaps some adjusting was in order? Maybe his lingo necessitated sprucing up, or he timed terms poorly. Maybe-

“Internet is a fucking cesspool in my eyes, but even I feel second-hand embarrassment from how out-of-touch you are.” A stentorian female voice scolded, as none other than Karol came.

Despite her headstart over some assholes here, her age hindered her. Getting rammed into by a callous little shit mid-run — thanks, James — didn't help matters either. All that coalesced into worsening her normally less than stellar mood.

“Oh! Um…” Connor stuttered. What did his advisors call it… the fanbase! Getting roasted consecutively without clapping back was a surefire way to be its laughingstock. “W-What would you know? You… Karen!” He argued.

Simmering with contempt, Karol didn't dignify this bumbling buffoon with a response. Focusing on the trajectory before them, she exerted herself further. Damn you, James Costa! She wouldn't allow his bullshit to wipe her out!

On his own — and doubtless fallen behind everyone — Connor winced, stomach churning briefly.

___________

“Are you messing with me on purpose?” Kristal leered daggers into her phone screen. “Dad, I already told you I don't need your assistance!...” She hissed. Another counterargument. She slammed a palm on her bench's wooden surface. “Given your reputation, there's a reason I got recruited over you!” She barked.

Fist balling over insufferable blabbering, Kristal snarled at her father's response. Years elapsed with him failing to do the bare minimum, and now he waltzed in to proffer advice? Over her rotting carcass. Time for a taste of his own medicine. Spotting the first contestant approaching, she twirled a hair-lock.

“Oh, look at that. They're starting to arrive.” Evening her voice, she feigned casualness. That insouciant tone through which she'd been addressed, whenever she fruitlessly tried reaching out in her childhood and earlier adolescence. “Can't continue our conversation. Please, don't call me again.”

Hanging up, blowing off those frantic protests entirely, empowered her. Rising afoot, she plastered on a grin. The cutting room floor would deal with that exchange. She winked at the lens, gesturing in the direction their dear cast would hail from.

“Look at that, here's our first contestant.” She repressed a snicker upon seeing that stubby ex-intern. She doubted his longevity greatly, which rendered his light smugness all the funnier. Clearing her throat, she motioned to him. “Oliver!”

Predictably, said corpulent man pumped a fist, exuding jubilation. How much delusion does confidence require, when you're someone like him? A lot, probably. Nevertheless, he crossed his arms, adopting his best cool stance. The host snorted, dampening his optimism slightly, before she collected herself.

“Up next… wait, who's that again?” Kristal arched an eyebrow toward their next guest, whose lacking relevance would doubtless translate to one of the emptier edits this episode. Mulling over all fourteen selected applications, she snapped her fingers just as the brunette joined Oliver. “Oh, yeah! Ally!” She proclaimed, gaze drifting aside. “Almost thought someone had snuck in…”

“Almost as fast as Sonic The Hedgehog!” Ally celebrated, sending shivers down everyone else's spines. Her spectacled, emerald orbs glimmered under sunlight. Until she registered the shade thrown her way, of course. “Excuse me?” She questioned, folding her arms over the chibi pac-man pixel-art on her white shirt — worn with a teal, short-sleeved jacket over it.

“Just musing to myself.” Kristal dismissed, an insincere smirk forming. She leveled an index toward Oliver. “Go wait next to him.” Barring a skeptical sidelong glance, her order met no resistance. The way she liked it. With an amused hum, she awaited the others.

Should probably cut introductions down in post, speed this along. She figured. And so it went, as we breezed through ensuing entries.

“Tess!” The ravenhead moseyed over to the duo. Ally proffered her a high-five. Appraising her lively, overexcited self, she shook her head, looking away. Leaving the gamer-girl to awkwardly retract her hand.

“Hunter!” Rubbing an elbow awkwardly, he drew over to his peers. Waving to Tess meekly, he capitulated as soon as she shuffled a foot away, giving her space. His mood did rise again, as Ally dapped him up, both exchanging grins. Unbeknownst to either, Tess glanced over her shoulder, something flickering across her expression for a second.

“Lake!” The demure blond scanned those who'd reached the finish before her. Five of them. Hopefully a small enough number not to disappoint them, should they view this. Taking a deep breath, she marched to her spot, going unnoticed by the others for now.

“Maggy! Kai!” Their arrivals coincided. The hippy bowed his head, hands pressed together. The sizable girl power-walked to a corner, hoping to avoid judgment. Though, Oliver's lour remained perceptible, digging into her back. At that, Kai frowned toward the ex-intern, who arched an eyebrow back.

“Rosa!” The Hispanic, purple-haired lady came with a merry smile. Her eyes alighted upon Lake first — that bashful disposition appealing to motherly instincts she may have been too young to harbor. Nevertheless, she saluted her kindly, eliciting a warm smile from the German girl.

Inclining her noggin, Kristal expelled a theatrical breath. Feigning excitement while welcoming this rabble sapped quite a bit off her tank. Hopefully, putting them through challenges would replenish her inner supply. Stifling a chortle, she squinted, a faint smirk returning. A quartet — seems her wait would get cut.

“Next up!” Throwing both arms upward, she proclaimed, thrilled. “We have-”

“Oh, quit that fake enthusiasm, why won't you?” Yul quibbled, leading the pack. Seriously, dealing with thirteen losers would blow enough, he knew. He didn't need a trashy showman blaring near his eardrums 24/7! “Anyone foolish enough to buy your act would probably rather you just sell yourself out on OnlyFans- OW!” Right after crossing, a tan pump-sandal tripped him, sending careening a couple feet through dirt. “What the hell?!”

“Mouth off again, and you'll see what happens!” Kristal threatened, miming a neck-slash, freaking everyone out. Facing no pushback, she hmphed. “Next, we have James!” She announced, putting less effort into her tone.

“Hell yeah! That's how we do it!” James whooped, whipping out his phone to snap a selfie. Rethinking that, however, he lowered his device, gazing back. Might as well inaugurate his stay with his new buddy.

“Very nice…” Kristal snarked, eyes flicking to the trail. Almost done, almost getting her break. Sure enough, another entered her sights. “Eleventh to arrive — Riya!” She highlighted that poor performance for fun.

Arms looped round her torso, Riya ambled up to the others without issue. Once done finding a spot, however, she wheeled round to send a solemn gaze back. Already, she suspected she'd encounter trouble fitting in. Finding a clique.

No time to ponder — as another ran closer, panting. Notably, however, he wasn't the sole individual nearing them right then.

“Twelfth arrival — Aid-!” Kristal's proclamation cut off, as said E-Boy got unceremoniously shouldered aside, tumbling down. Horror flooded his countenance, as a familiar face rushed past him, crossing first. Gasps came. The host shrugged. “After that… unnecessary, but certainly tv-worthy shove, Karol is the twelfth to arrive! Aiden is the thirteenth!”

“Wait, I'm on a team?” Aiden quizzed, bemused relief washing away momentary despair. Trotting over, James clasped his arm, hoisting up in a single motion. “I thought being on the bottom two meant instant elimination.”

Palm on her side, Kristal surveyed her cast. Befuddlement had developed across all their visages, to varying degrees. Brow furrowing, she facepalmed, heaving a puff. Rather swiftly, they began feeling like a chore.

“Who provided that intel?” Kristal inquired, crossing her arms.

“The driver's puppet.” Ally responded, somewhat sheepish over how ludicrous that sounded aloud. “What special-effects budget did you give that guy, anyway? That marionette wouldn't look out of place in FNAF — with those changing eyes, and moving parts.” Of course, gaming-references as a personality. How charming.

“Oh, Nina? That's what Marcus — your bus-driver — calls her.” Kristal deadpanned, unsure whether or not to applaud his commitment to bringing her everywhere, whilst maintaining his secret. “As for what special-effects he uses, you'd have to ask him — he does that in his own time, without extra funding.” She dismissed.

Their exchange segwayed into the final camper emerging onto scene, adjusting the collar of his burgundy shirt. Oblivious, Connor addressed the host. “So… Um, do I have to go-”

“No. Whatever you heard about instant elimination for whoever came last was bull.” Kristal stated bluntly. How could people get so frustrating, so soon after meeting them? She jabbed a thumb at the remainder. “Go join them, so I can finally get started on this.”

“Oh!” Connor answered, realizing he'd been behind everyone else yet again. Trying not to dwell on it, he gave two thumbs-up. “Cool!” He marched onto the assigned area. Making eye-contact with Riya, she offered a small smile, which he reciprocated.

“Sorry about pushing you, I guess.” Karol spoke guardedly, directing a gaze toward Aiden, as both found their respective spots amongst the group. “Just figured it was either that, or getting thrown out first.” Despite her harsh tone, she earned a nod.

“I understand. It's the game.” Aiden assured. Out here, better to keep doors open. He'd never known Karol beforehand, let alone form an arrangement with her. No betrayal here. Beside him, though, James narrowed his gaze.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Good to know that bus creep's lie didn't make me shove someone who'd hold a massive grudge afterward.” Following this observation, she folded her arms, expression hardening. “Give some people an inch, and they'll pull the most diabolical crap, while pretending to still be righteous.”

—Confessional :James—

“I found the perfect person to have around out here, and that Karen-looking witch nearly ruined it right off the bat.” Slinging one leg over its fellow, he scoffed. “This game may have just started, but I already know someone I definitely don't vibe with.”

—End Confessional—

Clapping to draw everyone's notice, Kristal stood, arms akimbo. “Enough chit-chatting! Time to divide you into teams — Orange and Green.” She announced. “I'm sure some of you are already making reads on others. To those people…” She folded her arms with a sassy shrug. “You might as well pay attention. Figure out how many good and bad cards you're being dealt.”

Contestants exchanged looks, but didn't dare break the silence. This savory tension. This painstaking suspense. A grin crept onto the presenter's face.

“Starting with Orange Team…” Elevating an arm, she manufactured further anticipation. Holding it another several moments, before her limb descended. Her index glided through her new subjects, as she listed names. “Rosa, Aiden, James, Lake, Oliver, Karol and… Maggy! Better hope you can function together.”

“Look at that — we've gotten grouped together!” James guffawed, draping an arm over Aiden's shoulder. The scraggly boy chuckled sheepishly, before the influencer tugged him closer. “Selfie-time!” He photographed them together — himself grinning with shiny pearly-whites, whereas his partner looked perplexed.

“You better keep the social-media-addiction outside challenges.” Karol muttered, purposefully loud enough to overhear. She'd rather her team not sink due to a TikTok-brained bozo. Her admonition purged that grin effortlessly, reminding the influencer she was on their team, too.

“Oh, aren't you Ms Popular?” He snarked, eyes narrowed. Both leaned closer, confrontation brewing. Only for Aiden to pluck at his arm, shaking his head with a reproaching face. Confused, but getting the gist, James backed away, scoffing. “Whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, restrain your bitching a few minutes longer.” Kristal told them, increasingly impatient. “That leaves Green Team — Yul, Hunter, Tess, Ally, Riya, Connor and Kai!” She gestured their way.

“Oh…” Side-eyeing a certain junkie-looking greenhair, Yul's countenance contorted with repulsion. “Fucking fantastic.” He snarled, fists bunching, putting in some distance to evade what he deemed the stench of hallucinogens.

Disdain didn't faze Kai currently, for a much greater issue tugged at his heartstrings. Appraising their opposition — calling anyone on this gameshow an enemy didn't compute to him — his gaze interlocked with Maggy's. It saddened him. Being restricted from assisting this golden, yet disoriented, frightened spirit. He took solace in praying for her well-being and enlightenment.

Catching herself staring longingly, Maggy averted her orbs, downtrodden. So much for interacting with someone not too bothered by her abnormal self…

“With introductions off our backs!” Kristal's forced enthusiasm interrupted all rumination. She turned to either team as she instructed them. “Orange Team, head down the right path. Green Team, the left path. Better not take too long getting acquainted with your team cabin — you'll need a good night's sleep for your first challenge tomorrow!” At last, respite, here she came-

“Excuse me, Team Cabin. Not plural?” Karol griped, shattering her mood uptick, rendering her even more exasperated. “What happened to privacy?”

“Conditions are how they are, not changing a single thing. Take it, or forfeit.” Kristal rebuffed, advancing a step to match the middle-aged contender's temperament. “You want a million dollars, or not?”

Affronted, Karol readied a comeback. “Oh, you're one to-” Before she proceeded, someone tugged at her wrist. Yanking it away on reflex, she jerked her head to see Aiden. Slight bewilderment tinged her annoyance. “What?” She snarled.

“I beg of you — don't provoke her.” He whispered, agitated. “She might be in a bad enough mood to give our team a disadvantage.” He admonished.

“Got something to share with the class?” Kristal prompted, antsy. The E-Boy vehemently shook his head, tittering. “What about you?” She challenged the older competitor, face scrunching.

It grated on Karol's nerves. Needing to stand down and take bullcrap… again. She vowed to never allow others to walk all over her, like decades ago. The drive to adhere to that oath blazed within, and yet… As much as she itched to shout at this domineering presence… As much as not engaging aggravated her… She scanned her team's majorly grave faces.

Clenching her fists, Karol swiveled away with a scoff. But no more, appeasing their despotic superior.

“Good…” Smugness oozed from this mere word. “I'll see you all tomorrow.” Straightening, Kristal pottered off, leaving them to split into their respective factions. Curtly trading names, they set off for their newfound abodes.

—Confessional :Karol—

“Never thought I could find a fellow girl so insufferable, so quickly.” She seethed. Most men she crossed proved worthless and deplorable swiftly. Individuals from her demographic usually took a little longer to turn truly unbearable, at least. Not this time, though.

With a sharp intake, she composed herself.

“No way I'm getting booted first, though.”

—Confessional :Aiden—

“So, that's Kristal McLane, huh?” He mused, embracing himself, discomfitted. “Daughter of Kristoff McLane…” Rubbing the back of his head, he chuckled uncomfortably. “I did consider bringing that up. Glad I didn't, though.” He grimaced. “Doubt she would've taken it well, considering Karol's comments were enough to nearly set her off.”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Green Team Camp)

Roosting on a low bough, a dove chirped. Its head gave tiny twitches, as it pattered over wood — foliage supplying a backdrop.

Watching from a picnic table, Tess hummed. A potential sketch? Perhaps, but she'd already stashed her belongings underneath her bunk. To retrieve them, she'd need to stand, get through them, potentially endure conversation- Not worth it. The critter would probably be gone once she returned, anyway.

She merely observed, as always.

_____

“You've already gone on and on about being famous-” Riya saw him bridle, though his position never shifted — one leg pendulous off the edge — appalled over her bare description. Rolling her eyes, she yielded. “About being famous, rich and fabulous.” She stifled a yuck upon uttering that last term, finding him anything but. “But what do you do, exactly?”

She regretted not following Connor inside the cabin. The guy bumbled a little, but clearly meant well. And seemed to take to her presence. Here? Lounging on these timber steps with Hunter, Kai and Yul? Sinking these past several minutes into attempted conversation hadn't brought them any closer.

In fact — in regards to a certain someone — it rendered her more and more hesitant to pursue a bond. Wonder who that could be…

“Duh, isn't it obvious?” Yul grilled, vocal cords flicking in an impressively obnoxious fashion. Flinging his upper-half upright, he augmented his ensuing claims with flourishes. “Possess star-quality, swoon anyone with braincells with a single wink! Wow the masses-”

“Um… what?” Hunter remarked, fingers raking over dark strands, dumbfounded at this unprompted showboating.

“If you don't get it, don't sweat it.” Yul handwaved, stretching one arm casually. “Your ‘wonderful’ attempts at small-talk say a lot…” Seeing that pale guy flush, he smirked, finishing. “You're exactly the type not to see it.”

“Okay, we get it…” Riya interjected, endeavoring to get them back on track. “But what do you do, exactly?” She reiterated, emphatically. Once he unfastened those lips, she felt compelled to specify. “As in, your career.” That expunged that smartass grin right off his face.

“Fuck it, fine, you killjoy!” He spat, audacious enough to reckon his near-tantrum merited. “I dance! My parents hustled me into the scene, like, a decade ago. Been growing in fame and sponsorships since.” Prodding her cheek, he tsked. “Satisfied?”

“Actually, that makes me curious.” Hunter butted in, as the Korean-hoofer's hand got pried away. “What even sent you here? You're already set, have a fanbase back home — what are you after?” He queried.

“Oh, that?” Checking his nails, Yul reverted to nonchalance. Moments later, he shrugged. “My manager suggested it. Said footage featuring me hanging around common people — in this case, everyone here — may do some good. Let's call it…” A shit-eating grin germinated. “Damage control.”

Oh god… Chills rippled through all three around him. Trading unnerved glances, one resolved to push further.

“For what, exactly?” Riya probed, scooching a few inches away, in case her interviewee felt like re-enacting anything. That gleeful smile didn't assuage her concerns.

“Oh, you know.” He waved flippantly, as though retailing an inconvenience. “It happened months ago, in a shopping mall. Everyone milling about, while I tried sifting through this pandemonium to get the expensive item I deserved. There I was, bag in hand, going for the exit…” In a flash, arrogance morphed into sheer odium. “When a wrinkled hag in front of me began retching like crazy, and stopped right at the top of the escalator I was going to take!”

“Was that poor soul alright?” Kai spoke up, eyebrows knitted. Prior context snuffed out most hope. Given the… wholly vile aura this man effused, he sadly expected this scenario to worsen.

“Who the hell cares?” Yul scoffed. “She began arching back and forth, like some stroke, and was searching through her purse. All while still crowding the entryway!” His focal points disturbed listeners further. It continued devolving, regardless. “So, like any rational person, I tried lightly shoving her aside, so I could proceed with my day. And she somehow pitched herself down it!” He knocked a step with his fist.

“You pushed her down an escalator!” Riya gasped, gobsmacked.

“I literally told you I didn't!” Yul whined, jerking his head away petulantly. “I shoved her aside, and she somehow flung herself off it. That's not my fucking fault!” He argued.

Inhaling raucously, Kai meditated to steady himself. Yul's presence evoked a never-ending, gloomy storm. Booming, stygian and soul-sucking. Even so, enlightenment taught never to peg someone beyond salvation without extending an olive branch first. Whether out of genuine hope — or mere obligation to get this over with — he plastered on a sage countenance.

“Some say; to cure the stain upon your soul, you must realize-” His lips were pinched shut. Disbelief overcame him, as that dancer disdainfully stared him down.

“Not interested.” Yul belittled, withdrawing his fingers. Sensing a reproving pair of brownish eyes bearing down upon him, he shot Riya a lour. “And what's up with you, huh?” Without allowing her to answer, he sneered. “Oh, I know! Worried about your future, aren't you? Fair enough. After all, you'll probably look like that shriveled prune in just a decade.” He cackled.

Expression tightening, Riya sprung afoot. “I'm checking on my baggage…” She evanesced into the entrance with a clipped step. Concurrently, Kai stood and departed, seeking tranquility amidst mother nature.

Twiddling his thumbs, Hunter averted his gaze — alone with the k-pop sensation.

—Confessional :Kai—

“As predicted…” He shifted in his stump. Vibrations were all off, even! “A corrosive, pitiless vortex — driven to scorch all in its wake!” He exclaimed. Shoulders slumping, he loosened a despondent breath. “I can only hope his stay isn't long enough to leave any lasting impact on anyone…”

—Confessional :Riya—

“Ugh, why did I even bother?” She lamented, stroking her temples. Stay calm, Riya. Stay calm. “Picking fights isn't a good idea still, but neither is trying to build any sort of bridge with that brat. For now, I'll just ignore Yul. Unless things go horribly, he shouldn't be too difficult to eliminate…

Right?”

She shuddered.

—Confessional :Yul—

Inspecting each feature of the confessional with contempt, he crossed his arms. Filthy ass production. No matter — he'd rake that tawdrily-dressed skank over the coals, right after he clinched that million!

“While interacting with these imbeciles has been an agonizing chore, my genius mind has gleaned some knowledge from it.” Contemplating his manicure, he mused. “Basically, that whore and drug-addict? Too pearl-clutching to be useful. The pallid loser, though, didn't step off line too much. And that slow, lonely chick? Probably doesn't care enough to object too much…”

He smirked.

—End Confessional—

___

Bed-frame creaked underneath, as Connor shuffled at the mattress’ edge. First impressions — they, well… He foundered. No way around that. Perhaps he came off too strong? Or maybe just needed to scour through his teammates? Try to engage with their interests? Surely, that would ingratiate him with some, right?

Upbeat tunes snipped his thought-process, guiding attention to its source. Near the opposite end of their cabin, lazing cross-legged on another bottom-bunk, Ally clutched a… Nintendo Switch? He scrounged up its name, just barely.

Features compressed lightly, she fixated upon that polycarbonate screen. Myriad hues — owing to currently running software — illuminated her mug, reflecting hazily over her glasses. Lids squinted, she operated with surgical concentration. But she looked to be having a good-time — if that smirk denoted anything.

The uncertain CEO's orbs trailed over, ascertaining no had entered. Starting off with a single person may pan out better, he conjectured. Mitts balling, he rose, hyping himself up. Prove you're keeping up with the times, Connor! You can do this!

“What's up, queen?” He greeted, arms folded as he neared her side coolly. Mask wavering slightly upon spotting her cringing, he carried on, quick to recover. “Just… chilling?”

Setting her game on pause-mode, Ally scorched her gaze up. Taking a second to gauge him, she let that embarrassing presentation slide. Shooing away a teammate on day one seemed imprudent, especially when she hadn't even sowed other connections yet. Besides, sharing her hobby was nice.

“Playing video-games.” She chirped, flipping her system to show him. “Always gets me in a competitive mood. Figured that may help for tomorrow's challenge.” She expounded, getting carried away. “Besides, they're great stress-relief. It sharpens my focus every time!”

Nodding, Connor quirked an eyebrow. “Never played videogames.” He blurted, eyes widening as it registered he outed himself. “But I've heard a lot about many.” He fruitlessly covered up. “Just never had the time because of… life, you know?”

“Well, if you heard of them a lot, you shouldn't struggle much with something generic.” Ally humored him, cautious amusement seeping in. Proffering her Nintendo Switch, she smirked. “Come on, let's see!” She urged.

“Um, sure…” Although anxious, Connor didn't want to get clocked as a liar. Or sound frightened. Imitating her grip on that device, he contemplated its screen, stumped. Nothing missing — avatar, terrain, bunch of icons that doubtless held greater meaning. Yet, no motion. “How do you make it…?” Trailing off, he shook his head. This must be base level-stuff. “Nevermind, my brain just flubbed for a second.” He forced a chuckle out.

Pressing a random input, a text-box graced the center. Delete save-file? Before he tried grasping implications, a sharp gasp rang beside him. The girl reached a hand for the console, startling him. Crap, must be something bad.

“Oh, I'm sorry! I'll exit!” He stammered, despite his lacking knowledge. Adrenaline, however, ruined his attempt to press that button again — in hopes that would eliminate that rectangle. Fidgety, his thumb skidded across the touchscreen, before he applied pressure to stabilize it. Misfortune struck, as that transpired right atop… Yes. Next moment, the title-screen came. “W-What happened?” He quizzed.

“You deleted my 98% complete save-file!” Ally bayed, dismayed. Mouth agape, she gripped her hair, eyes screwed shut. How could someone be so oblivious?! “You know how much grinding I had to do these past two months to reach that point?! You just wiped all hard-work out” Her shoulders heaved frantically.

“W-What?!” Connor blanched, ramifications dawning. Instead of faring better, his blunder escalated. He… He had to mend this! “Hold on, I'll fix it!” Overwhelmed with frantic agitation, he mindlessly began tugging at the device. Hoping to force it to yield its hostage — yeah, his tech-inept mind meshed horrendously with urgency. “Give it back!” He commanded the display.

Eyes snapping open, Ally gawked. “What are you doing?! Be careful!” She panicked, seizing a joy-con and tugging, giving him a scare.

Elements collided into calamity. Taken aback, the middle-aged male obliged her request without consideration. Unbeknownst to either, his earlier pulling had dislodged the very joy-con Ally clasped. Once he released his hold — gaze brimming with thinly-veiled shame — that scarlet component slid off its side, firmly on the gamer-girl's palm.

CRASH!

Starting, both stared down — minds blanking, lagging as they took stock of what transpired. Spinning mid-fall, the Switch had face-planted onto the floor. A harrowing crack vanquished optimism surrounding optimism. Observing her device's fate, the gamer's upper-limbs slackened against her sides.

Short nails nearly digging into his palms, Connor swallowed a sizable lump. “H-How bad is it?” He inquired, trembling — going unanswered for several moments…

Until a non-speaking Ally bent over, clutching its side. Drawing a weary intake, she rose upright, display turned to face her. Breath hitching, her silence lasted another moment, before dismay washed over her face.

“No…” She released.

Surrendering to curiosity, Connor rounded her to take a gander. His regret spiked instantly. Fissures overtook its surface, which transmitted nothing but a colorful jumble. Broken beyond repair, no doubt.

“I… How much money did it cost?” Connor fretfully quizzed. “I promise I'll reimburse the cost after the show. I'll even throw in some extra cash, if needed. Just… I'm so sorry about-”

“I need some time alone.” Her assertion came — quavering with unbridled anger, threatening to erupt upon him if he prolonged this exchange. Backing a couple steps, a chill ran down his spine at the glare that replaced her once somewhat friendly demeanor.

“Understood…” Embracing himself, he trod quickly to retake his previous seat. He demonstrated a ton, alright… How ridiculously moronic he was…

—Confessional :Ally—

Revealing a back-up, she exhaled, simmering down a notch. Still, it didn't erase tensions.

“Good thing I brought multiple of these, mostly because I hoped to find someone to play co-op with.” She elucidated, softening. Her face scrunched up again, though. “Doesn't mean I'm past what happened. Like, who tries retrieving data by pulling at a device!”

Recalling people would view this, she composed herself.

“I'll just try and keep my distance from him.” She settled on. “May sound petty, but I'd rather not risk getting too irritated by forcing myself to talk to him much.” She shrugged.

—Confessional :Connor—

“How do I keep screwing up so badly?” He wondered into his palms, unsure how to proceed. “At this rate, I'll alienate half my team before we reach our first challenge.”

—End Confessional—

Door groaning open, Riya stepped through — scanning a rather muted scene. An improvement over getting subjected to that bastard outside, for sure. But not as inviting as she'd anticipated; atmosphere-wise, specifically — its crummy constitution was nothing off the ordinary, given Kristal's earlier behavior.

Shuddering, the Indian actress prayed that wouldn't lend to any trials awaiting them. Brushing it off, her orbs roved over her dull vicinity. A tense geek hunkered beside a bunk, stuffing a holdall under the squeaking mattress. Riya recollected her seeming way more excited on their way here.

Another presence diverted her focus. Connor — except he looked even worse for wear, slouched atop bedding, chin propped meekly in one palm. Liveliness sucked right off him, his orbs mused pensively on those dubious floorboards. Sobering, indeed.

Heart twinging, she didn't hesitate — heels padding across less than pristine timber.

—Confessional :Riya—

“I just couldn't leave him there…” She confessed, brushing up a truant strand.

—End Confessional—

The mattress shook with shifting weight, alerting the older male. Taken aback, he tilted his head — that kind-looking woman's welcoming gaze greeting him. Despite feeling unworthy, his heart warmed still. Though, aching came whenever he let his gaze fleet to that now aloof gamer.

“Are you okay?” Riya's tender cadence riveted his cynosure. She traced his prior focus, before regarding him again. “Something happened, right?” She inferred.

“I… screwed up.” Connor admitted, digits drumming over fabric. “Broke her… um… Nintendo Switch.” Choking out an answer, he smacked his temple. “I've just been messing everything up since arriving. I… wouldn't be surprised if most here don't want much to do with me.” He sighed, frowning.

Leaning forth, she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don't be like that. From your tone, it was clearly an accident.” She guessed. Hand moving to hold his, she proceeded. “If you want, I can stay by your side. Not like I have much else to do.” She assured.

“Really?” Gratitude infused those aged orbs. “You don't have to. I'd hate to bother you-”

“Consider it compensation for ditching on the run here.” She insisted, wincing. “Sorry about that…”

“It's fine, really. Thank you so much — you slay.”

This elicited an awkward, yet fond giggle.

—Confessional :Riya—

Palms deposited on her lap, she gave a frazzled smile.

“My first attempt to interact with others on this team didn't pan out too well — mostly because of a certain someone being… a piece of work.” She hissed that last portion, before swinging her head to recompose herself. “So, it's nice to get along with someone. Talking to Connor, he's pretty nice. Wouldn't mind working with him, too.” Her tone grew slightly vulnerable. “If nothing else, knowing I'm not alone is nice…”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Orange Team Camp)

“Say, Aiden…” James commenced, lowering his mobile device. Elbows bracing against the deck table-top, his once chill — if somewhat conceited — mannerisms gave way to a sultry tint. “Who were the most popular contestants last season, if you're aware?”

Starting, Aiden rolled his eyes. Of course, the sleazy influencer gets all flirty like this. Tsk. He repressed a flush, successfully this time. Upon arrival, both had unpacked their belongings swiftly. Therefore, they'd exited their cabins to loll at the picnic-benches. A squirrel skittered across, munching on a nut.

“First, reel back, won't you?” He clapped a palm onto the other's face, cueing him to draw back. Nevertheless, the fandom connoisseur within stirred. “As for your question…” He snorted, not even a contest. “Tom and Jake surpassed everyone else — no question.”

Puckering with faux umbrage, James tapped his fingers. “Any particular reason behind that?” He inquired. “Some attractive features that appealed to fans. Perhaps a plot-line as iconic and old as time?” He smirked, surmising it.

“Why so interested?” Aiden folded his arms, arching an eyebrow. “You… don't seem the type to get invested in this sort of show.” He settled on. Deep down, he did appreciate getting to discuss this, even a little.

“Just curious on how I can overtake them.” James winked charismatically, leveling an index his way. “You seem quite savvy on this, though, huh?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, no!” Aiden dismissed, fist rapping the wooden plane. Clearing his throat, he dialed down intensity, shaking his head. “Just a casual fan. Only went out of my way to check one tweet about Jake. Twitter has never let that go. His and Tom's failed romance keeps cropping up on my feed.” He handwaved.

Hm, sounds plausible. Rang through the influencer, but James dissembled that opinion. Who cared about lies, anyway? Beaming, he reached over and rested an arm over the e-boy's shoulders.

“Imagine us surpassing them?” He guffawed, before lowering his tone. “Doesn't sound too hard~” He added, delighted to see him so flustered.

“W-What-?”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE STAINS?!” Blared from their habitation, taking both off this moment. Heads snapping toward it, their eyes dilated. What was going on there?

___

“Geez, calm down, Karol!” Oliver flung his hands upward, dissimulating his trepidation. Terror threatened to leak onto his visage, but tried holding fast. Viewers enjoyed decisive players, not whiners — unless attractive and dating (neither clause applied to him). “It's just one sheet — there are more bunk-beds than team members.” He mentioned. “Pick another-”

Marred linen flew onto his face, cutting him off. One sniff. Stiffening, he curtailed pushback. Tipiskaw's accommodations were never great, but their stench had grown vile, even by last season's standards. As though, between then and now, rats had colonized and used it for god-knew what — until it grew too filthy for even them. Prior experience sowed enough resistance within to keep him from hurting. Tossing it aside, he gagged.

“Oh, shit…” He panted between desperate gasps for fresher air. “Okay, that's horrid. I figured Ms Kristal would improve amenities here, at least a little…” He sighed. “Regardless, we need to focus on getting ready for-

“I can't deal with that smug ass’ bullcrap right now…” Karol snarled. She needed seclusion — peace, quiet and maybe some animals’ company. She preferred hanging around them for a reason, after all. “Don't come looking for me. I need to cool off!” Flouncing outside, she whammed the door behind her, jolting all occupants.

Folding her arms, Rosa arched a skeptical eyebrow at the exit. Seems people were quick to be themselves. Didn't bother her too much. From experience, she'd rather know someone's an asshole than… get blindsided. With a vehement headshake, she turned to Lake, who sat on her bunk, discomforted.

“Seems you've finished unpacking. Same here.” Rosa mentioned, drawing closer. “Would you like to go check out the mess-hall together? They must already have something prepared.” She proposed, extending a helpful hand.

Touched, Lake accepted it, reciprocating that cheery expression. Despite meeting some unsavory people here, she could tell Rosa differed from them. And she'd cherish that.

“Sure.” With that, they departed.

—Confessional :Rosa—

“Call me overly caring, but I can't bear to leave someone vulnerable.” She avowed. Orbs flicking aside, she gripped her forearm. “I've… been there myself.” She brushed it off with a forced huff. “Let's not discuss it.”

—End Confessional—

Following their departure, the door remained ajar. That petite gape allowed a sliver into their backs, as they ventured farther and farther outdoors. Plaintive orbs remained trained on their figures, until reduced to mere specks.

Slumped against a corner — afraid her weight exceeded the bunks’ capacity — Maggy released a despondent breath, gaze dipping to her lap. She'd found some semblance of opportunity within Kai, only for them to land on different teams. Now, she huddled alone. A shadow others either passed over, or didn't acknowledge. She tried unearthing an inkling of solace. Better ignored than denigrated, right?

Even keeping that in mind, her head drooped, downcast. Again, what did she think would… Her inner rhetoric cut off, as she noted a stare piercing into her.

Standing there, arms folded, Oliver regarded her with an unreadable expression — to Maggy's worn mind, anyway. That visage flickered with another sentiment. Uncertainty? Pity? By the time she squinted to try and ascertain it, his face had hardened again. Her mind playing tricks on her, she figured listlessly.

Without bidding goodbye, the ex-intern whipped round and slunk outside. Leaving the meek behemoth alone, forlorn and uneasy.

—Confessional :Maggy—

“With Kai on another team, the only kind of regard I've gotten is from Oliver…” She elucidated, hugging herself. “And he doesn't seem to like me being here. At all.”

Shuffling in her stump, she heaved a weary breath.

“I wish I could hang out with those other two — Rosa and Lake. They seem nice.” She conceded. “But I doubt they'd remain that way, if I nagged them about it. I… don't want to bother anyone.” She averted her eyes.

—Confessional :Oliver—

“To everyone watching and thinking; wow, he's stumpy and a jerk. Well, um…” He grappled with conjuring a comeback for a second, flushing. Eventually, he pushed through. “Just you wait! This is my shot to prove every jerk around wrong. Don't believe me?”

Springing forth, his mug overtook the frame. In his mind, an intimidating move. To viewers, distinguishing his zits and hearing his heavy puffs between lines exacerbated second-hand chagrin.

“That massive physical threat, Maggy? I'll make sure she's gone at the first ceremony we attend!”

—End Confessional—

___________

A time-lapse allotting an overhead view over Camp Tipiskaw breezed by — orange and purple hues darkening to thick murk, before dawn brought vibrant azure.

___________

“So, how did you sleep?” Kristal stood on a dock, smirking at both teams, each grouped over a mat matching their designated color. They idled in varying manners; stretching, exchanging glances with others and — most satisfying — shooting crotchety glares about. “Better hope you replenished all the energy needed for today's challenge, after all.”

“How did I sleep?” Karol repeated, gnashing her teeth. “Did you even glance at those cabins? Mildew-infested sheets would look relatively benign by comparison…” She grouched.

Oh… this Karen enjoyed playing with fire. Wouldn't it be thrilling to see her get burned?

“What's that?” Kristal prodded, cupping a hand around her earlobe. “Does someone want to earn their team a disadvantage right before their first challenge?” At Karol's tautening posture, her gaze sharpened, merciless. “Quite bold, considering you nearly gave your team a disadvantage yesterday already. Want that to happen for real?”

Nettled, Karol's fists curled, shaking. Even so, she merely scorched her gaze away with a tsk. It's not worth it — she reminded herself — not worth risking getting booted first over. A subsequent snicker complicated her endeavor to stifle her fury.

Amidst this spat, others missed a certain Korean-dancer sizing up the opposing faction. His orbs alighted on a bulky stature, developing a revolted, indignant scowl. Their bitch of a host couldn't be serious!

“That's better-”

“Question!” Yul blared obnoxiously, arm rearing high. Disregarding the unamused stare the Hispanic host shot him, he proceeded. “What did WE do to merit getting put at a disadvantage?” He interrogated.

“What do you mean?” Kristal's eyebrow hitched up, lip curling with exasperation.

“Are you in need of glasses?!” Yul shaded, jabbing a thumb toward Maggy. “That rabble has an ogre on their team! It should be balanced out, somehow!” He barked, stamping a foot.

O-Ogre? Maggy flinched, retreating a step with a snuffle. Averting her gaze, she did her best to stem welling tears. Sobbing might vex those around, attracting more mockery. Making her feel worse, rendering her sorrow more insufferable. Viciously cycling and exacerbating. Until everyone loathed her-

“Her name is Maggy.” Kai asserted, lacking a degree of that customary tranquility. His orbs seemed to try and bore a hole through the unsavory male's forehead. His intervention cut off Maggy's spiraling, as she watched, touched. So much so, she didn't notice a few of her own teammates glowering at Yul, too. “You know, putting down others to prop yourself up does nothing for you, or your fanbase.”

Head cocking over at that spiel, Yul snarled. Insolent green-haired twat!

“Of course, your drugged mind didn't pay attention to anything I said back at the cabins.” He denigrated, checking his nails. “Besides, even without the cultural barrier, I doubt my fans would have any interest in this low-tier-fest, unless they already knew I'd be-”

“Enough!” Kristal hollered, massaging her temple to soothe a near-headache. These pedestrians really needed to learn to zip it. “Tangent time is over — let's get on with the challenge!” Leers and grumbles went around, mostly from or pertaining to Yul. But all fell silent, otherwise. Placated, she beckoned campers to take in the harbor, allowing them to notice a motorboat moored on either side.

“Teams are to separate into a trio, duo and two solo-players. Once that's decided, and people have taken their assigned positions, you shall compete in a relay race…”

—

The episode cut to a viewer-exclusive demonstration — her ongoing explanation proceeding as narration.

“The first three will sail through the lake!” She revved up the engine. Rock jutted up ahead. Due to her taking time to wink and smirk for the lens, she noticed it very late. Steering hard, she successfully avoided it, but almost tumbled overboard with inertia. Steadying herself, she tried upholding that smooth posture.

Cut.

“The duo will ride a motorbike!” She flashed the camera smirk, a branch peeking through the frame's edge. A jarring jump to presumably a few minutes later gave dubious vibes.

Cut.

“The penultimate camper shall ride a bicycle!” She showboated without mishap. More observant watchers would notice that green scenery behind her looking out of synch with her apparent speed. Odd.

Cut.

“Finally, your team's success will rest upon your last participant's running abilities!” This front-view of Kristal's sprint was the only fully clean sequence here, alongside what followed — her standing at the finish-line. “Whoever crosses the finish first wins their team invincibility for today!”

__

“The losers? Needless to say, one of them will have the dishonor of going home first tonight.” Kristal concluded, pleased to see tension rippling through many. She inspected her wrist-watch. “I'll give you five minutes to delegate roles. Get started!”

Both teams congregated into clusters.

“I'll take the bike.” Karol pointed to herself imperiously. “I've used it a lot over the years. I guarantee none of you can outperform me.” She vowed, receiving side-eye from Rosa and especially James.

“You sure? Age might be catching up.” The influencer interjected, eliciting a scowl. “Besides, not sure whether you're aware, but with both you and your opponent cycling, I doubt tackling them would work here.” He jabbed.

“Excuse me?!” Karol gritted her teeth. “We should be more concerned about your phone addiction costing us this challenge, that's what.” She bit back, striking a chord.

Flaring up, James pointed her away, snarling. “Oh, I'll have you know-”

“Guys, stop!” Aiden shouted, wedging himself between them. “We shouldn't start coming at each other the very first challenge. All it's doing is wasting time. If we're not smart about this, we'lll lose.” Lecturing them, their glowered stayed locked on each other. Huffing, he curbed an urge to facepalm.

—Confessional :Aiden—

“While Karol might be bossy, I'm honestly miffed with James.” He crossed his arms. “He didn't need to bring that incident up when objecting. I know he's probably my best bet for an immediate ally, but that won't help much if he turns too many people against him.” He groaned.

—End Confessional—

“We should give Karol a chance.” Oliver opined, clapping his hands together. “Even with James’ concerns, she can probably compensate, as long as her technique really is that good.” Vouching for a teammate? Check — hopefully, this favor would benefit him later.

“Glad someone's got something resembling a brain.” Karol muttered, not acknowledging him. Too fixated on her indignation. Blowing up would trash her repute, she reiterated inwardly.

“I… don't seem too big an issue either,” Lake chipped in. Disposed toward neither side, she chose based on her perceived fastest path to resolution. “I'm not sure anyone else here has biking as a skill, regardless.” Her two cents attained Rosa's tenuous agreement, conveyed with a nod.

“You know what? I agree.” Aiden simpered toward Karol, shooting James a pointed stare to quell incoming protests. Once she inclined her head, appeased, relief washed over. “Alright, what about the rest?” He prompted.

Checking on his target, Oliver steeled his resolve, face tightening with conviction.

—Confessional :Oliver—

“This might backfire and complicate my mission, but it shouldn't negatively affect me either way. I'll just need to wait a little longer for an opening.” He elucidated. “If it pays off, though? My start in this game will rival Fiore's!” He hyped himself up.

—End Confessional—

“I'd assign Maggy to the last section.”

Hearing this, pigment drained from the girl's visage. Her? Thrust onto the spotlight? And responsibility behind their team's first success, or loss? Breathing quickening, dread welled. Mortifying premonitions flashed — her flubbing, incurring their ire and scorn. Envisioning herself getting ousted first, slumping away without receiving a single farewell, she shivered — frigid air perceptible enough to affect her.

“I…” She swallowed, trying to muster courage to articulate those simple words that could save her. “I'm not-” Her volume never rose enough for Aiden, James or Karol to hear.

“She made it to camp very early.” Oliver cited, positioning himself farther from Maggy. That way, the trio wouldn't pick up on her fretting mannerisms.

“That is true…” Aiden conceded, less picky with time counting down. Not too keen on discussing this — especially after failing to oppose Karol, who now shrugged — James gave a desultory nod.

Screwing her eyes shut, Maggy gulped down a whimper. She dreaded that arrangement, yet couldn't find it within herself to speak up. Anxiety, fright and bashfulness meshed into an invisible, yet insurmountable adhesive, which held her mouth air-tight. She loathed it. In turn, detesting herself for permitting this-

“Wait a second. Aren't you forgetting something, Oliver?” Another party cut their exchange off, sidling near Maggy, who snapped off her turmoil to glance. Flanking her, Rosa directed the ex-intern a stern stare.

Caught off-guard at gales interrupting smooth sailing, Oliver scratched his temple. “Um… what do you mean?” He questioned, puzzled. “I already made my case. Maggy's fast, so she's the best fit-”

“That's not your call to make.” Rosa cut off. Maggy shrank away, as she pointed her way. “Maggy's clearly uncomfortable. You shouldn't be pushing her like this.”

“I…” Trailing off, Oliver grimaced. He hadn't anticipated vehement objections, much less from a third-party. Endeavoring to usher circumstances to his preference still, his gaze flicked to a certain someone. Willing as forceful a glint as possible, he strained on a grin. “You don't mind, right?” He insisted.

Quaking, Maggy narrowly swallowed through whatever clogged her trachea. “I…” Voice wavering, her gaze flitted to her unexpected savior. Receiving an assuring look, she garnered sufficient willpower to fess up. “I wouldn't handle the pressure well.” She sputtered out.

“You can come with Lake and I on the motorboat.” Rosa suggested, gracing her with a tender, uplifting smile. Soothing to her troubled spirit, which felt even more included as Lake stepped forth with a concurring nod. Something occurred to the German girl, drawing her eyes to Oliver.

“On the matter of speed, you should actually fill the runner role.” Lake called out, eyebrow quirked. She'd gotten an odd vibe from this stubby man. Remaining vigilant seemed prudent. “I came before Maggy, and you were already there before anyone else.” She reminded.

“That's true.” Aiden mused. “James and I can ride the motorbike.” Looking up from scrolling through TikTok, James smirked, orbs glinting. Beside him, Karol rolled her eyes, but nodded to avoid squandering time without purpose.

“I…” Oliver gulped, processing how majorly he botched this. Six pairs of eyes fixated on him now, expectant. Given his earlier push, declining would make him look shady. “Fine, I'll do it.” He grumbled.

—Confessional :Oliver—

“Shit!” He cussed, fist pounding the side of his stump. “Getting Maggy isolated would be good to preclude her from forming bonds and potential alliances early. You know, so booting her is easier? Was also banking on her getting heat if we lose, but now it's on my shoulders…”

Quivering, his eyes dilated and he shook his head frantically.

“No, I'm no longer working for you. You can't hurt me!”

—End Confessional—

“So, any suggestions-?” Connor commenced, before getting thrust aside. Starting, he glanced at the Korean-dancer, who didn't spare him another look.

“I'm not tiring myself out right off the bat.” Yul thundered, arms akimbo. “I'm going on the powerboat, no question.” Asserting his spot, he scanned his teammates. His genius mind recognized a shot to not only evade manual labor, but ensconce himself in this rabble. “In fact… Tess, Hunter? You're coming with me.”

Connor supplied a doubtful gaze. “And who gave you the right to decide for them, exactly?” He questioned, drawing an unamused stare. “Shouldn't they get to-”

“Fine with me.” Tess shrugged, indifferent either way. The boat did hold more company — a drawback. However, it would keep her off the spotlight — a major plus. Her response evoked a haughty smirk from the Korean-dancer, who regarded his other nominee next.

“Same here!” Hunter chirped with an awkward grin, giving thumbs-up. Partnering with Yul, following his anecdote? Sort of discomforting. But he'd failed to make meaningful connections thus far, so getting picked wasn't something he'd disregard.

“Glad we're in agreement…” Yul drawled, squinting toward the middle-aged male. “Anyone else has a suggestion?” He added nonchalantly, ready to meddle again if he saw fit.

“I want the bicycle!” Ally beamed, stretching her arms. Surely, a killer performance would beef up her edit this episode, right? “I'll slay, trust me.” She pumped fist, shooting a fierce glower toward their adversaries to sway her teammates.

“Committing manslaughter?” Yul misread her words and vibe. It didn't faze, though. Quite a few of their opponents acted scandalized enough to warrant death, to be frank. “As long as it doesn't connect back to me, if you're caught, go wild.” He allowed, perturbing everyone else. Taken aback, the gamer-girl was too late to correct him, as he sneered toward their resident green-haired hippy. “Oh, I just know you're going on the motorbike, though. Those drugs have definitely ruined your stamina. And I'm not letting you cost us the challenge.”

“Disparaging others’ abilities won't better your own.” Kai imparted, despite knowing he may as well be conversing with a door- scratch that, those would show more respect. Of course, his statement slighted their callous receiver.

“Want to repeat that-”

“Guys, we have the challenge to worry about!” Riya snipped their squabble, gaze switching between them with urgency. She found Kai hard to fault, given Yul's horrid demeanor. But taking sides may complicate matters, which they couldn't afford. “If we go in disorganized, we're done for.” She emphasized, getting the nature-lover's understanding. The Korean-dancer scowled, her butting in irking him.

“I can run!” Connor offered, hoping to lift her spirits. “These legs may be older than most around here, but they still know how to face a good couple miles.” He assured.

“Thanks, Connor-”

“Slow the fuck down!” Yul spat, lips curling with repulsion as he regarded their elder. These two had to be pulling their legs — no pun intended. “No way in hell I'm trusting this fossil to cover that distance timely. He might be even worse than Kai!” He shaded.

Knitting her brow, Riya grappled with containing her exasperation. “Are you serious right now?” The gall to assign himself to the least strenuous position, then complain about every other selection… It grated on her nerves, despite her efforts to mask it.

“To be fair…” All eyes went to this suddenly barging party — Ally. She granted their oldest male a mistrustful frown. “Connor did arrive at camp dead last.” Disregarding Yul's shit-eating grin, Connor's downcast expression and Riya's side-eye, she carried on. “Making him run again doesn't sound like a good idea. And before you ask, I'm cycling and that's also physical, so don't tell me to fill in then.”

“Thank you, odd gamer-girl.” Yul half-complimented, half-dissed. “Anyway, that leaves you as the better option.” He pointed toward the actress.

“Ugh… fine.” Riya conceded, crossing her arms and gazing aside to escape that insufferably triumphant smirk.

—Confessional :Riya—

“Great.” She snarked, balling her fists, frustrated at her predicament. “Not only did Yul ultimately get to decide most of that, I'm in the prime spot to be blamed for a potential loss.”

Running either palm down her countenance, she jettisoned a stressed puff.

“Wish I could argue more. But with Tess and Hunter passively following along, and Ally actively agreeing with him on something, I… didn't want to risk upsetting them too much right away.” Utterly powerless. “I'll just have to pray that either we win today or Yul's attitude gets him booted.”

—Confessional :Yul—

Lounging with a shank draped over the other, he preened. Despite setbacks, he corralled everything to go his way. Shocker.

“Good thing these fools seem easy to impose on, barring a couple ants.” He snickered. Afterward, a devious glint adorned his orbs. “I'll be sure to take advantage of this arrangement, too. To ensure they're squashed the moment we lose.” Without straightening upright, he leveled an index to the camera.

“Mark my words, Yul Kim is here to reign over this game. Everyone else? Mere fodder for my greatness.”

—End Confessional—

Skipping to half an hour later, water washed against the underside of now occupied vessels. Barring the trio each motorboat housed, all contestants had departed the wharf.

“Hope you're all secure… or not.” Kristal snorted. “Tumbling overboard would compromise your team's chances, but make for great ratings. So, it's your call.” She jested, keeping an eye on the time — a minute left.

“Wonderful…” Tess deadpanned, leaning against the gunwale. Eyes musing on her wavering likeness, she sighed. How poetic.

At the helm, Hunter responded to her apathy with a disconcerted glance. Despite them not even spending two whole days at camp yet, he worried. It may seem confusing. Their sole interaction ended with her ditching him prematurely, sure. However, he couldn't help his own emotions. He didn't want to write her off as plain rude…

“Erm, hello?” Yul's sole knocked on the back of his head, startling him off rumination. “Quit gazing into the distance like an idiot. The challenge's starting any moment now. And you better not drop that flag!” He demanded, ankles poised on the headrest.

Hanging his head, Hunter obliged, bummed not to reach out.

“That's better…” Gaze tracing over to their competition, the Korean-dancer's orbs narrowed at that pink-shirted freak. Wow. He knew their opposition couldn't compare, but they'd stooped lower than predicted. Letting her partake in anything other than that on-foot section? Too preposterous not to rag on. “Hey, ogre-girl! Maybe try and shuffle closer to the middle, so your boat has a 1% survival chance at least!”

On Orange Team's deck, Maggy clammed up as his mockery careened around her noggin. Embracing herself, she tautened. Sitting there, feeling exposed and unwieldy. Her cheeks glowed an ashamed crimson. She didn't shift, afraid to verify how clunky her size rendered movement. A hand clasped her shoulder tightly.

Standing by the gingerhead's side, Rosa Maria shot daggers toward that parallel hull. Men such as that one frayed her kind heart's temper. They thrived off putting gentler folk down, to exalt themselves. In their vile minds, anything went, as long as it contributed to their delight, casualties be damned. Veritably sickening.

Handling their steering-wheel, Lake expressed her displeasure first. “The structure is holding up fine.” She affirmed, though uneasiness — owing to her experience with him yesterday — tinged her tone. “And you shouldn't talk about others that way.”

“Pft, sure, sure, PSA-reject.” Yul emitted a faux yawn, rolling his eyes. Might as well mess with these imbeciles a tad. “If you two want to blind yourselves to the burden you're lugging around, be my guest.” Cocking his head upward — and, therefore, losing sight of them, as Rosa handed Maggy the flag and hopping onto the dock — he sneered. “Makes things easier for-”

SPLASH

“Gah!” He eeped upon getting shoved unceremoniously onto the lake. “What the fuck?!” He barked. Rosa retreated into Orange Team's vehicle — arms folded and an accomplished smirk plastered on her countenance. Eyes widening with fury, his head snapped toward an entertained Kristal. “Why are you standing there?! Penalize her! She pushed me!”

“Hmm… nah. Squabbles, this early? Too golden to shut down. Besides, it's not like she did it mid-challenge.” Kristal dismissed, for once benefitting decent fellows. Though, ratings still clearly dictated her mindset here. “Just be glad I'm giving you an extra minute to retake your spot. Better take it.”

Oh, these fucking bitches… Barely keeping those words from leaving his throat, Yul returned to the pier with a series of strokes. Hauling himself onto the wooden floor, he reared afoot and stormed to his boat. Disregarding Tess’ smirk, he plonked onto his seat, flipping off their rivals.

“Ready? Set? Go!” Kristal blared, prompting either powerboat to blast forth. Unprepared, Yul fell supine on the deck.

—Confessional :Maggy—

“It's rare for anyone to step up for me like Lake and Rosa did.” She mused, faith passing her features. “Maybe I really could…” Her expression fell, self-doubt knocking on her door.

—Confessional :Yul—

Fingers combing his damp hair, he gritted his teeth. He strained to keep still, even as his sopping clothes — never the most warm even beforehand — lowered body-temperature.

“I can't believe that hideous heap actually found not one, but two supporters.” He snarled. “To be frank, that purple-haired chick might just get higher on my hit-list. They're all going down!” He exhaled through flared nostrils. “For now, though, I'll focus on securing myself.”

—End Confessional—

“Could you hold this for me?” Hunter requested, proffering the flag. With a nonchalant nod, Tess took it, staring ahead once more. Itching for small-talk too much to ignore, he took a profuse indrawn breath, focus wavering from manning the helm. “Say… have you ever-”

The hull's bottom grazed an unseen pebble aggregation, rocking the whole vessel as it crossed. A particularly incongruous bump sent a yelping Tess hurtling forward. Releasing the wheel with a jerky motion, Hunter's hand shot out, seizing her wrist to tug her back. Their transport zig-zagged from his hasty stunt, allotting their competition a sizable lead.

“Sorry about that…” Hunter mumbled sheepishly, gripping the helm and regaining control over their trajectory. A certain callous male’s leer penetrated his skull from behind.

“Do us all a favor, and focus on driving.” Tess remarked, miffed. Her heart palpitated from that close-call. And maybe slightly from- Nah, just a close-call. That's all. For sure.

“I agree.” The Koren-dancer harrumphed, narrowing his stare. While less defiant, this loser was certainly asking for it with his incompetence. He should give him an earful- Dots connected within his mind. What better opportunity to produce his offer? Shoving down his petulant rage, he feigned equanimity. “I mean… at this rate, you may get booted first. You'd hate that, wouldn't you?”

Tensing, Hunter had to restrain himself to merely glancing over his shoulder, rather than fully turning round. Better not court another incident. “W-What are you talking about?” He quizzed. Although not blind to his current lack of bonds, he surmised that wasn't uncommon so early on. What could possibly doom him immediately?

“Come on, you can't see how bad you might look, should we lose?” Yul tutted, Drawing back his legs, he craned his head forward. “We're not even doing anything physical here. If we lose this challenge, Riya may get the most immediate heat, given she's the runner. However, once she gets desperate to save herself, who do you think she'd be better off targeting?” He prodded the man's temple.

“Um… I…” Overwhelmed, rationality slipped a smidge, leaving Hunter susceptible.

“Exactly. The guy who nearly sent everyone on-board into the water. You can never count yourself safe.” Yul supplied a conclusion swiftly, fear-mongering. Amidst their exchange, Tess had begun observing Hunter's increasing consternation, a flicker of something fleeting her eyes again. Before either spoke, however, the foul schemer carried on. “Fortunately for you, I have a suggestion to ensure we outlast our so-called teammates.”

Perking up, Hunter sent him an almost pleading gaze. “Please, go on.” That cowed tone was music to Yul's ears.

“It's why I told both of you to accompany me here, actually.” Eyes settled on his nails, Yul expounded casually. “There's seven within each team, total. And three of us, right here — pretty sizable alliance, don't you think? As long as we survive two ceremonies, or recruit another teammate, we'll control who goes whenever we lose.” He flashed both prospective lackeys- ‘allies’ a grin. “What do you say?”

“Y-Yes!” Hunter blurted frantically, before catching himself. “I mean, sure. Glad you chose us for this.” He smiled, embarrassed.

“Might as well.” Tess inclined her head, lacking incentive to hesitate.

“Wonderful…”

—Confessional :Yul—

“Ha! What is it they say around here? Hook, line and sinker!” He preened.

—Confessional :Tess—

Palms resting on opposite edges of her stump, she maintained her indifferent countenance.

“Don't get it twisted. Yul? Even I can tell you he sucks from a glance.” She shrugged. “But he won't try interacting with me, unless it's for strategy. Purely transactional. For me? Easiest way to stay in the game.”

—Confessional :Hunter—

Scratching his raven strands, he gave a conflicted expression. A mixed-bag. Insecurity shone through, even as endeavored to zoom in on the bright side.

“Guess banking on simply being a reliable teammate, in case I failed to form many connections, might not be as sound a last resort as I figured…” He folded his arms. Maybe he'd already known that, deep down.

Shaking his head, he plastered on a grin, lifting an index.

“But hey, at least I've got something going now. Sure, Yul is… unpleasant…” He grimaced over the understatement, before brushing it off. “But that keeps the target off my back, too. And who knows…” His smile turned more genuine, if flustered. “Tess might start opening up a little, as we work together.”

—End Confessional—

“I wonder what happened to Green Team's boat back there…” Lake remarked, though she concentrated on piloting their own motorboat. In comparison, their voyage was progressing smoothly. She intended to keep it that way, maintaining their newfound advantage.

“If they lose, I hope they vote off Yul. From the looks of things, he's a real piece of work.” Having retrieved their flag, Rosa crossed her arms. “Speaking of him…” Her stern gaze softened, as she turned to address the shy ginger sitting behind them, eyes downcast. Her motherly instincts flared. “Are you okay?” She asked, hands settling on either shoulder to gain her attention.

“I… Thank you for standing up for me.” Maggy met her gaze reluctantly. She guessed this answer would suffice, but those invested orbs showed otherwise. Gathering what flimsy courage she harbored, she opened up. “I just can't shake off what Yul's been saying. What if he's right? I mean, though not as mean, Oliver doesn't seem to like me being here. And there must be a reason I don't have friends-”

“Nonsense! Don't listen to a single lie that comes out of that asshole's mouth!” Rosa hollered, getting too close for comfort. Seeing the other recoil, she caught herself, withdrawing apologetically. “Oh, sorry about that.” She winced, tone far more tender to put her at ease. “I just… can't bear to see you let someone like him get in your head.”

“I understand.” Doubt clung to Maggy's voice. “But… it's just harder to believe he's wrong, when all I've known is that something about me repels everyone.” She fessed up.

Resolve welled within Rosa, whose orbs squinted with fierce compassion.

“Well, that ends today. Count both of us as your friends. Right?” She cocked her head toward Lake, who nodded with a smile. Once her friend turned away, however, her countenance scrunched up pensively.

“Really?” Maggy let out, tearing up with gratitude. Upon receiving a beam, she pulled Rosa into a bone-crushing hug, before snapping out of it. “Oh, goodness, I'm sorry!” She apologized, but her worries ebbed, as a pair of arms wrapped around her in return.

“Um… Maggy?” Lake called out, arching an eyebrow toward the duo. “Could you tell us what exactly Oliver's been saying about you? Given how pushy he seemed with attempting to have you race, I think it may put things into perspective.” She explained.

Balking momentarily, a reassuring shoulder-pat from Rosa willed Maggy to comply. Inhaling deeply, she filled them in.

—Confessional :Lake—

“A threat, huh?” She mused, arms folded. “It seems someone on our team is already playing hard.”

—End Confessional—

“Doesn't matter whether it's Oliver or Yul…” Rosa asserted, heart beating stronger with conviction once that tale wrapped up. She gave an earnest look. “If either tries anything against you, they'll have to deal with me.”

“Thank you so much.” Maggy couldn't help but repeat, allowing herself to smile. It filled a void within her — to find people willing to care for her. Even though this wouldn't end the strife that pursued her wherever she went, that didn't matter. She would treasure them.

“You know…” Lake chimed in, gripping the wheel tighter. “Since some people are playing their hand this early, we should look out for each other — beyond a personal level, I mean.” Gaze flicking between Rosa and Maggy, she made her proposal. “Friendship alliance?”

“I… I love that idea.” The bang-haired behemoth inclined her head, a bashful smile gracing her. Today had taken quite the turn for the better. One she remained convinced she didn't deserve, yet wouldn't dare argue against.

“Same here.” Rosa stood between them, a vibrant smile on her face. Recollecting something, she sighed wistfully. “I just know my daughter would have loved to meet you both.” Unbeknownst to her, they exchanged bewildered glances.

—Confessional :Maggy—

“D-Daughter?” She blurted, incredulous…

Wasn't Rosa only a couple years their elder?

—End Confessional—

___

“Are you seriously still on that?” Aiden grumbled, gaze narrowing toward his companion. Influencer or not, they're in the middle of a challenge! Their turn would come any moment now! Curbing his temper and keeping all that within, he reminded himself not to strain relations too much.

“Awww, Aiden~” James drawled, angling his device just immaculately for another pic. This scenery would probably entrance some nature-loving suckers, somehow. Eh, viewership remained viewership — no matter the audience. “It's just a couple selfies, or maybe a video.”

Following his antics with a frown, the e-boy took his gaze off the dock. Crossing his arms, he squinted, foot tapping.

“Sunshine, wipe that scowl off your face. A pretty mug like yours should be appreciated, you know?” James winked, leading to him averting his gaze with a stammer, flustered. He smirked. “Besides, I doubt the others are coming anytime soon-”

“Aiden, James!” Rosa rushed toward them, flag in hand. She reckoned they'd be more prepared by now. Regardless, she handed it to Aiden. “Here, mount your motorbike!” She urged, glancing over her shoulder to see their competition reach the harbor while the duo complied.

“Sorry about costing us time!” Aiden frantically apologized to her, reluctantly wrapping his arms around James' torso to hold on. Unapologetic, the influencer slammed his foot in the gas, and they were off.

Nonchalantly, Tess sprinted over to Kai and Connor — both already on their vehicle. Indifferent, she proffered their mini-flagpole, which the hippy accepted. As he did, however, he took a gander over her aura's surface. His eyebrows hitched up with concern, mouth unfastening to query her…

Until his older partner cranked up the engine, forcing Kai to hold on, as they zoomed off after their adversaries. The green-haired, eccentric believer heaved a sigh, processing some matters.

“Don't be down, kiddo!” Connor boomed, misconstruing what distressed him. “We'll eat those two up, leave no crumbs! Let's slay the house, boots down!” He hollered.

Masking unbridled disruption over that indecipherable piece of communication, Kai prudently hummed. “Endeavoring to conceal your age will only render you discombobulated…” He refrained from elaborating.

Guess he means I should shut up… Connor hung his noggin, finding nothing more he could glean. Was that sage advice? Perhaps he just hadn't found the right crowd yet… though he'd interacted with much of his team already. Hitting a bump, both jerked, yet thankfully didn't tumble. I'll just focus for now…

—Confessional :Connor—

“No, um…” Trailing off, it took him several moments to remember the lingo. “Oh, yeah. No shade to Kai, but…” He crossed his arms, chagrin pooling within. “Him calling me out — I think, at least — made me realize I may have hit some low right there…” He pondered.

—End Confessional—

“Aiden, can you see my phone?” James questioned, clutching the handlebar.

Since taking off, his peripheral view had registered potential for him to appear epic! Driving a two-wheeled transport, woods fleeting past at vast speeds. Aiden? Total twink material. His fans would eat it up. Possibility rang through his mind — and, well, James Costa wasn't one to miss out.

“Fine…” Gaze flicking down, the e-boy spotted it sticking out James’ trouser pocket. “Yeah, it's one bump away from flying off.” He observed, to his companion's slight discomfiture — that part wasn't intentional, but the influencer rolled with it. “Want me to push it down, or keep it with me until we make it?” Aiden inquired, misinterpreting — or maybe retaining foolish hope in — his goal here.

“Oh, I certainly wouldn't mind.” James responded, steadying himself again. “But first… could you use it to record our ride? Pretty please~” His vain attempt to sway him with flirtation didn't pan out.

“Excuse me?” Aiden scoffed, disbelieving. His ears deceived him, right? Everything prior notwithstanding, this man had to be kidding. Seconds swept past without punchline, before reality dawned on him. “You cannot be serious… In the middle of a challenge!” He exclaimed.

“Come on, Aiden. I promise it's a one-time thing. This moment is just too perfect not to share with my followers. And I'm sure they'd love you, too!” James pestered, deadset on getting this. In turn, came unamused silence.

Up ahead, that grumpy Karen mounted her bicycle. Someone her age would identify with outdated articles, he supposed. His condescension gave way to slight panic, as the sight registered. Nearly out of time! Typical nagging hadn't affected Aiden, so what would… Conjuring an idea, he slowed down to allow them more time.

“What are you-?”

“How about a deal?” James snipped that complaint, smirking. “You do this for me, and you have yourself an alliance. You both ensure there's one less potential vote against you, and get yourself an ally. Sounds fair?” He canvassed, piquing the guy's intrigue.

—Confessional :Aiden—

“James is insufferable…” He aired out, pouting. Annoyance soon receded to a degree, however. “But securing his loyalty would be a plus, as long as this doesn't make either of us go — and between us, he'd probably catch all the heat.”

—End Confessional—

Swallowing his vexation — and dignity — Aiden fished that cell-phone, hastily hopping onto TikTok. “This better be worth it…” He muttered under his breath. Forced to press farther into James’ back, he positioned that screen before them, pressing record.

“Hey, my amazing fans!” James proclaimed, withdrawing a hand from the grip to flash his trademark sign. Peeking from his side, his buddy's terrified visage contrasted with his own exhilaration-infused grin. He guffawed. Many stunts ceased to intimidate, when you performed countless out-of-pocket dares online daily. “Here's an update. First challenge, and it's already a daring race!”

Suppressing a distraught whimper, Aiden's gaze scorched aside — right on time to catch Green Team's much smoother ride overtake them. He noticed both briefly cocking their heads, keeping track of their display a moment longer. Which he deemed worse than merely getting outstripped.

Last straw came directly ahead, where he discerned Karol's gobsmacked countenance. Their opponents halted to relay their flag to Ally, who began pedaling confidently. Processing her incoming uphill battle, a nasty glower replaced shock. Potentially making an enemy so soon? Awful.

“James! They're getting a massive lead on us!” Aiden hissed through gritted teeth, barely fettering an urge to hurl that damn smartphone away.

Flinching, James focused on the path. Quickly verifying that claim, he winced for a split-second. Plastering on his cheeky persona, he smirked. “Stay tuned for more moments!” He signed out, letting Aiden stop filming. “Guess I got too carried away.” He admitted, as they made it.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Karol vented, glare fixed on James, as Aiden hopped off with the loot. “This is a challenge, not another lot for your Z-tier content farm- scratch that, landfill!” She roasted. Needing to restrain herself when dealing with Kristal, she felt vindicated in erupting at this dumbass.

“Take a chill-pill — it's called having a career to attend to outside this game.” James scoffed, getting defensive in a snap. He wasn't taking more shit from her. “You can still catch up, anyway — focus on that. If they win while your turn's not done, you'll look just as bad.” He affirmed, slighting her further.

“Oh, you little-!” Before Karol's outburst could commence, Aiden thrust their flag against her, agitated. Tangible panic shone through his features, appealing to her nuggets of sympathy (and perhaps slightest remorse over pulling an unnecessary fast-one on Aiden yesterday). “Watch your back…” She warned the influencer, before taking off.

Of course, can't go forty-eight hours without delivering an angry threat. An eye-roll later, James skipped off his motorbike, folding his arms as both traced her evanescing figure. “Geez, can she get more dramatic?” He nudged his scrawnier newfound ally's shoulder. “First target material, am I right?”

Shifting his shoulder away, Aiden furrowed his brow. “We're in an alliance, so don't start rushing…” He reminded, miffed and pensive.

—Confessional :James—

“Barring Karol's presence — why is Aiden not immediately on-board with booting her, again? — my first round's been going nice thus far.” He smirked. “I lost our lead, sure, but who cares? Most heat probably falls on whoever goes last, I think.” Shrugging, he held up two fingers. “Not only did I capture some killer footage, my alliance with Aiden's become official… speaking of…”

Alighting on her smartphone, his orbs glinted ambitiously. Though not game-related, his cards were slotting perfectly into place. It left him nearly giddy.

“That's not only a plus for my game, but I can derive something even more valuable from it~” Capping this cryptic musing off with a chuckle, he hummed — developing a light, amused blush. “Who knows? I may get two things, even…”

—End Confessional—

Exerting herself, Karol cursed that pierced-nosed asshole. Setting eyes on him upon deboarding that pathetic excuse of a minibus, she'd know he'd get on her nerves. Her sole error was lowballing her predictions so much. His gall to provoke her… Teeth gnashing, she disregarded growing ache to gyrate her feet faster.

Eventually, Karol's drive truncated their distance enough to clearly distinguish that brunette, waist-length mane. That sight incited her determination, willing her to push harder and harder. She would stick it to her, to James, to all assholes venturing to censure her.

Two-thirds through, Karol emitted a strained growl. She now pedaled side-by-side with her enemy. Her reserves… she just needed to find more fuel to surpass-

“Oh, I don't think so!” Ally contested, resolve flashing across her much less tired expression. Nowhere near as worn as her competitor, she had no issue quickening her pace. She started re-opening that gap Karol fought so valiantly to conquer, much to the latter's rage and dismay. “See you at the finish-line!” She boasted, not privy to any of that. “I'm coming for that chicken dinner, Victory Royale!” She dropped a gaming-reference.

Flagging, Karol barely pushed through her lassitude to both forge on and devise a counter. Adrenaline, however, gave her that critical shot she needed. She squinted, lacing as much mockery between pants as possible.

“Chicken Dinner, Victory Royale? Really? Who the hell says that, girl?” She scrutinized. “Are you one of those pathetic, disgusting lol-cows that younglings diss every now and then?” Her accusations flabbergasted her competition. She smirked, as that moron glancing over her shoulder to gawk.

“What?! Of course not!” She snapped, rather sensitive — owing to months of unearned hate-comments not too different from these condemnations. “Why would you even think that?!” Her orbs fastened onto Karol, who went to keep it that way.

“Like, how would you live with yourself after pulling shit like that?” She gagged, acting as though she'd missed that response. “Recording yourself doing unspeakable things to merchandise. Is it a total lack of shame, or…”

Flaring up, Ally flung her hands. “I've said I'M NOT LIKE THAT-” Distracted, she hadn't kept an eye on her trajectory — resulting in her tilting the handlebar wrong without catching on, straying from the relatively uncluttered path and toward denser woods. Her blunder's logical conclusion came — bike crashing into an oak, felling both it and her.

“So long!” Karol muttered. Summoning dregs of strength, she conquered her last minute or so of pedaling.

—Confessional :Ally—

“Telling that to someone who's got to deal with vitriol online isn't cool!” She griped, crossing her arms. Simmering down a notch, she heaved a breath. “I know she was probably just hurling crap at the wall, and didn't actually know what's going on with me. But still, it can sting sometimes, even with positivity outweighing negativity.”

—Confessional :Karol—

“As soon as she started gloating, I had a feeling I could strike a chord.” She tapped her temple. “Her lacking the awareness to stay focused on the path ahead? An educated guess.”

—End Confessional—

Legs about to give out, Karol reached that stumpy ex-intern. The man looked resolute, fists balled. Good, he better. She hadn't strained her limbs for nothing. Hopping off her bike, she let it topple aside, handing him the flag.

“Hey, Karol, about tonight's vote-” Was this asshole serious?!

“GO!” She screeched, pointing as she leaned against a trunk for support. Given her wobbling lower limbs, she'd probably collapse otherwise. Despite her fatigue, her volume browbeat Oliver into compliance just fine. He booked it off sight. “Finally…” She rasped.

Lassitude won out, at last. Sliding until she sat on turf, Karol breathed heavily. Her teammates better respect the hustle, needing to compensate for James’ bullcrap. Shutting her eyes, she rested without sleeping. Even so, she didn't take notice of who watched her.

Loitering there, awaiting a certain gamer-girl, Riya's worry gradually neared panic. What happened? She observed her opponent's increasing headstart, her distress skyrocketing as he vanished amidst vegetation.

—Confessional :Riya—

“Seriously, what did Ally get up to back there?!” She aired out her exasperation. “Because of her, I'll be heading into this with a massive disadvantage. Worst of all, I doubt she'll get blamed much, if we lose. Always easier to blame the one who failed to cross that goal…” She lamented.

Steeling her resolve, she balled her fists.

—End Confessional—

“Sorry about that.” Ally emerged, banged up — hair disheveled and matted with leaves, humus dirtying her clothes. Screeching to a halt, a wheel sprang off its slot. It crashed down. Thudding down, she grunted. “Ow, must have dislodged something when I-”

Snatching the flag, Riya burst into a desperate sprint. Heart palpitating with dread, she propelled herself as briskly as she could. She needed to do this. She… She could, right. Right? In spite of emphatic affirmations, a nagging whisper disagreed. Breath quickening, she hastened.

She just couldn't give up. Not so soon. Even as logic dictated Oliver shouldn't struggle to finish before she was halfway through.

___

Yes, I'm doing this — piece of cake! Trumpeted across Oliver's mind, invigorating him, impelling him onward. His endeavor to push Maggy onto this position — thus setting her up to take the fall, should they lose — had backfired, but nothing he couldn't recover from. By proving himself here, he'd gain more respect amongst his comrades. Who knows? Maybe he'd leverage it to facilitate orchestrating her exit later.

What mattered was nothing could go wrong! Fast and with a sizable headstart, no way his competition caught up in time. Their victory was guaranteed. In fact, he could soon discern the finish line. Kristal stood there, watching with a bemused smirk.

Recalling her father, a shiver shot up Oliver's spine. Countless hours moping deplorable lavatories, testing vile challenges and getting treated worse than dirt looped through his mind. No! The past should stay behind him! His tenure as that bastard's slave ended. He couldn't mistreat him anymore, nor was he anywhere in sight-

“Or am I?” A bone-chilling, smug echo petrified him in his tracks.

___

Desperate crunches accompanied each frantic step, as Riya skedaddled. Disregarding the pressure on her legs, she pushed further and further. Her increasingly strained puffs sounded between trunks, stoking her paranoia. Which spiked whenever she caught glimpses of loudspeakers.

Each breath, she dreaded them blasting into activity — blaring out Orange Team's triumph. Adrenaline surged, propelling her pace. She feared getting booted first — that would jeopardize her chances outside this game, not help. Though she prayed Yul's virulence drew more heat, or that pointing out the horrible disadvantage she got from the get-go would put eyes on Ally, crippling doubt asserted they'd go with the simplest option.

What would Eesha think? Seeing her own big sister, who departed due to aspiring for success, crash and burn on episode one? Getting known as nothing but a flop?

Shoulders heaving, she accelerated. Whether from exertion, adrenaline, dismay, or a combination, her vision hazed. Yet, she went on, writing that stumpy figure — located before a tree — off as a strange-looking shrub, which quickly vanished from her thoughts. ‘Its’ words blurred together for her, anyway.

“Please… I… Bathroom… Not… Possible… You…” Brushing that background noise aside, she gritted her teeth and forged on. More recognizable shapes right ahead cleared her awareness. Kristal grinned her way, struggling to stifle a cackle- Wait, Kristal?! Sight regaining focus, she verified that and spotted the finish line. Disbelief crossed her features, her throbbing shanks suddenly much heavier.

“Wait… Huh?” That ex-intern's voice sounded a couple yards behind her, snapping her off this second of confusion. Dots connected in her mind, as her rival's eyes widened. “Wait- NO!” That yell pumped adrenaline back through the actress, who pushed through her tiredness to make one last mad dash for the goal.

10 feet…

5 feet…

3 feet…

Sensing Oliver already on her tail, about to overtake her, Riya leapt across with a ferocious yell. Rolling through turf a foot, she glanced over to check. But her opponent had also crossed in the time she took to cease motion, seeming just as lost as her.

Without another option, both heads cocked toward their host. Hands behind her back, Kristal appraised them smugly. She dragged out their suspense several moments longer. Close-calls within a premiere were rare, and this deserved a sprinkle of gravitas. Both contestants tensed, prompting her to begin.

“That was certainly a close one. Almost would have had to rewind footage to check which of you won. Almost…” She smirked, delighted by their mounting unease. Letting them exchange worried gazes, she cleared her throat to regain their focus. “First to cross was…” She raised a hand, doubtless readying to point toward said individual.

A second later, she went through with it.

“Riya!”

Both sides presented flashy reactions.

—Confessional :Oliver—

“Damn it! Damn it!” Facade crumbling, he hyperventilated, clutching tufts of puffy hair. “I almost had it! I would've had it! I just saw Mister McLane there — and he appeared so real! And I panicked! How was I meant to know he wasn't?! I-”

Out of defenses, he buried his face in his palms.

—Confessional :Riya—

“Thank goodness. I would've been in a ton of danger, had we lost.” She clutched her chest, relieved. Rumination dampened her repose, however, as she set both palms on her lap. “Though, knowing I would've lost, if not for Oliver's sudden breakdown, isn't the best feeling…”

—End Confessional—

Minutes elapsed — sufficient time for the other twelve to arrive, apprised of the results, courtesy of the intercom system.

“Victory Royale!” Ally exulted, doubtless hoping her prior blunder wouldn't be spread around, ever. Enthused by her, Hunter nudged Tess’ shoulder gently, offering a smile. The latter averted her gaze, rendering things awkward.

Riya grinned toward her teammates, glad not to wreck her standing, though inwardly dwelling on what-ifs a little. Eyes roosting on Connor, her smile grew more legitimate. Their gazes intertwined — a quiet moment amidst all the noise… Which a certain someone had to snip.

“Yay, congrats on not losing to a mentally-ill dwarf, girl!” Yul gushed sarcastically, clapping. “You're on actual fire right now! It's not like losing to someone so pathetic would've made you an utter waste of space and oxygen!”

“No need to sour our team's fortune, dude.” Kai countered, hands pressed together.

“Ugh, talk to me once you've gone a week without drugs, okay?” Yul sassed, shooing him away. “Besides, I'm just ensuring extra over here doesn't grow big-headed.” He scoffed, either oblivious or not caring for how hypocritical he sounded.

“Don't listen to him. Be proud of yourself.” Connor approached Riya, a bright smile on his face. “You slayed and left no crumbs.” He cheered, earning odd looks from many.

Though weirded out herself, Riya appreciated his support. She found his optimism contagious.

Predictably, sailing wasn't as smooth amongst Orange Team.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Karol blared, throwing both hands upward. Her short rest seemed sufficient for rage to push through lingering exhaustion. “I pedal my ass off and get us an advantage, and you just throw it all away like that?!” She stalked toward the ex-intern, who recoiled.

“I-I… didn't mean to! It's- It's just…” Oliver blubbered, his cool front dissipating. It took him tons of restraint not to sob. Their team viewed this display. Maggy and Lake traded uncomfortable looks, whereas Rosa seemed more torn. The guy did ostensibly target one of her newfound protégés.

Watching as well, Aiden looked mixed on it. In-team fighting, especially this early, never heralded great things. Dysfunction might jeopardize their winning capabilities. On the other hand, this drew eyes away from their — or rather, James’ — own blunder, helping their safety tonight. Too convenient to whisper about.

“You are so unbelievably lucky right now, you know that…” Turning to regard that influencer, Aiden trailed off upon discovering his current activity. Smartphone on hand, James busied himself with uploading their motorbike clip onto TikTok, keeping tabs on its performance. Right now, of all times. Incredulity flooded in, his tone growing a bit too loud. “James, what are you doing?!” He hissed, getting his attention. “Put that away before others notice-”

“What?!”

Aiden's spine went rigid. He stepped away from James, as Karol swiveled to check what they were up to. Her narrowed eyes immediately trained onto that accursed device. In a second, their fire roared even louder. Forgetting her tirade against Oliver, whose expression switched to relief, she glowered toward James furiously.

“You are on your fucking phone… again?” She snarled, fists quavering with rage. “Right after we've just lost? After also costing us our lead earlier?!” She ranted.

“Look, Karol.” Aiden stammered, attempting to mediate. “I'm sorry about his behavior. Please, calm down-”

“Oh, don't try reasoning with her.” James interjected, worsening matters. Despite the e-boy's glare, he addressed Karol himself. “Look, Karen — apparently, it was super close. So, really, it was your fault. Had you gotten the guy a few more extra seconds, we wouldn't be here. Don't blame me.” He ironically spouted that.

“Oh, a few seconds?” Karol snarked. “Well, maybe those seconds could have come from you not slowing down to create more damn brainrot!” She barked.

“Oh, spicy!” Kristal tittered, relishing this unfolding spectacle. “Green Team, you're all safe from potentially suffering the disgrace of getting booted first. Orange Team? With the result of Oliver's little hallucination fit, I'd advise each of you to safe-guard your position for tonight, or just start praying. Either makes for fun television, I'm sure.”

While Aiden desperately tried breaking their squabble, Oliver recovered from getting shouted at fully. Cocking his head toward Maggy, he squinted. The ex-worker wasn't as sly as he thought, not even catching onto Rosa side-eyeing him.

—Confessional :Oliver—

Harrumphing, he recovered composure — plastering on that collected persona, as though it hadn't crumbled entirely for everyone to behold.

“Losing this challenge? Definitely a knock against my game. One I could've taken better, I won't lie.” He downplayed his breakdown, adjusting his posture. “But don't even consider counting me out!” He crossed his arms. “Despite everything, I can still execute my game-move!”

—End Confessional—

___________

(Orange Team Camp)

Dealing with James that afternoon — as both occupied the picnic benches outside their cabin, their teammates not within sight — honestly made Aiden more sympathetic to Karol's plight. Drumming his fingers on timber, he wondered which roast would shake the influencer most — calling him cringe, or a broken-record from the 50s.

Oh wait, doubt he'd even understand the latter insult. Occurred to him. Orange hues had long overtaken the tapestry overhead. And increasingly inky-black purple had begun eagerly munching it up.

“Come on, Aiden.” James pleaded, clasping his hands together. Tough deciding which was worse — the prior flirty demeanor, or this petulant nagging. “Isn't getting Karol out good for our games? Like, to go undetected, or something? We clearly can't do that, as long as Karol's here, targeting me over petty stuff. You saw her outburst back there!”

“For the love of…” Aiden groaned, curbing an exasperated fit. Was he seriously playing innocent? “I won't deny she's probably more prone to raging than most. But don't act as though it wasn't warranted. You cost us our initial lead for a clip-”

“But you agreed to it.” James pointed out.

“Yeah, after you promised your allegiance in return.” Aiden emphasized with an eye-roll. “There's a reason I didn't just accept right off the bat.” Electing not to halt there, he went on. “Karol clearly drained herself, compensating for that, only for Oliver to lose it for the team, anyway. Then, she sees you on your phone.”

James’ eyes darted from side to side, an inkling of comprehension seeping in. However, he stayed stubborn. “It wasn't that bad…”

“When I tried de-escalating the situation, you cut me off and tried blaming her for our loss.”

“Well, still…”

Inhaling sharply, Aiden opted for an alternate approach. If getting him to fully acknowledge his mistakes was off the table, maybe simple logic could knock sense in? He hoped so.

“Okay, at least think rationally.” He urged. “Who else is on our team?” Fingers came up, as enumerated team members. “Lake, Rosa and Maggy all seem like just generally decent people — even with their varying personalities. Oliver is… honestly, unsure about him. And I'd like to think I don't draw too much negative attention onto myself.”

“Your point?” James arched an eyebrow, puzzled.

“You and Karol have been the most vocal on our team. Especially with your latest argument.” Aiden mentioned, holding an index on each hand to mime them. “So, tell me? If the others agree on taking one pot-stirrer off, why would they stop there? Why not boot both?”

Gaining a better understanding, James hummed. As much as he concealed his discomfort, that premise seemed sound. “That's… definitely something to keep in mind.” Letting Karol's attitude slide remained ludicrous to him, but right now, he glimpsed just a little beyond his annoyance.

“Exactly.” Aiden inclined his head, reckoning he was finally getting through to him. “So long as Karol doesn't gain total control over this team, keeping her around benefits you most, really.”

“Well… who should we target, then?” James groaned, rather bummed to expend such time and energy on this. “There's only four other options.”

Before Aiden could ponder, footfalls diverted their attention. They turned their heads, spotting Oliver marching over — fists balled and face taut with conviction. Both an intriguing… and frankly hilarious sight. Neither could tell whether he was earnest or faking it, yet either possibility amused them. Did the guy actually believe himself to look intimidating right now? Nevertheless, they wondered what brought him there, and thus stifled chuckles.

“I was about to head to the mess-hall, see if they handed out snacks, and overheard you discussing the vote.” Oliver commenced. “I'd like to suggest someone.” He overlooked the duo's shared glance.

He… did realize his trajectory made that unlikely, right? Their cabin stood around the glade's center — and that single dirtpath leading in and out to the side opposite where they dwelled. Both called bullcrap swiftly, but James shrugged toward his buddy. Might as well play along, right? For once, Aiden concurred.

“Okay…” Aiden replied cautiously. “Who, exactly?” He quizzed.

“Maggy.”

“Um, who?” James genuinely forgot her name momentarily. He received an elbow to his side, grunting. “Oh, yeah, Maggy. She's so quiet, she honestly slipped my mind for a moment there.”

“Is there any particular reason to vote her off?” Aiden pried further. The more detailed a picture he gleaned, the better. A pout greeted him.

“Um… no offense, but have you seen her?” Oliver questioned rhetorically. “Don't let her seeming shy fool you. Someone that size can't be a cinnamon-roll. She's a clear threat, and we should take this opportunity to boot her before she gains traction!” He asserted, smacking a fist onto his unfolded palm.

Leaves blew past them, carried by light breeze.

“Her likely physical prowess does warrant concern…” Aiden conceded, scrunching his fast. “However, I'm not sure booting her first is a good idea. After four or five eliminations, as we're on the verge of merging? I'll probably be down for it. But if there's a strength-based team-phase challenge? I'd rather she stick around until then.” He reasoned, seemingly ticking that ex-intern.

“She refused to properly participate today!” Oliver argued, blatantly twisting what transpired. “We're not even sure she'll be willing to actually contribute to the team. Besides, I'm sure we'll handle ourselves just fine.” His dedication and obstinance would impress the e-boy — if inherent audacity didn't hog the spotlight.

“Whatever, might as well.” James shrugged, just tired of this squeaking. “Since voting off a certain someone is allegedly stupid.” He muttered, clearly sinking back into letting emotion guide him, as his alliancemate gawked.

“That's great! I'm going to approach Karol about voting with us. Four votes is all we need for a majority, after all!” Oliver divulged. “See you all tonight!” Without further ado, he booked it into the woods.

“Well, at least we'll see how much anger guides Karol's judgment, eh?” James quipped, fishing out his phone. “Could we go for a strategy-time TikTok, before we need to get going?”

“I… need to prepare for the ceremony. Wouldn't want to start hyperventilating over nothing in episode one.” Aiden excused. Ignoring the discontent countenance meeting his response, he rose afoot and started toward their cabin, ruminating.

Seated alone, James returned to his scrolling. Though, it seemed a smidge less enthralling than usual now.

—Confessional :Aiden—

“Oliver's offer isn't too shabby, I suppose. And would ensure neither James nor Karol go.” He conceded. “Before you ask, I just don't see booting Karol as either fair or beneficial. For all I know, enabling James may encourage him to be worse.” He shrugged.

“Back to Oliver, however, I… didn't like his delivery. Kind of similar to James in hypocrisy, but frankly maybe worse, personally.” He went on to enumerate points against the ex-intern. “He cost us the challenge by having… what? A mental breakdown?” He shook his head, bewildered over what information he'd gotten. “And he tested challenges during season one. Wouldn't surprise me if he tested stuff that went unused, stuff that might come up this season.”

Crossing his arms, he grimaced.

“By the time he gets over that baggage — if he does — cooperation probably won't be a thing anymore. Hopefully, this doesn't come off too mean, but…”

—End Confessional—

Surmounting the stoop, Aiden strolled toward the door. But then, it opened — and he found himself face to face with Lake.

“Oh… hi there.” The German girl greeted, awkwardness pervading their interaction from the get-go. Nothing too uncomfortable — not as though team members were all acquainted yet, beyond knowing names. But… odd foot to start things on, especially with an impending ceremony on their minds. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, I guess.” He handwaved, though unable to brush off a prospect entirely. “Just… um… thinking about the vote a lot, that's all.” His evasive eyes conveyed miles more than any competent actor would allow in this situation.

Studious, these details roused Lake's suspicion. Perhaps relying on a gamble — no matter how small — could backfire. Despite hesitating, however, that didn't sway her from helping a friend in a jeopardy. Steeling her resolve, she lowered her voice.

“I… I'm nervous about getting in trouble, but I really don't want to keep this to myself.” Lake whispered. “Before leaving the cabin, Oliver whispered to me about voting off Maggy. He got quite insistent, saying she's a threat, and all that. In the end, he just figured I agreed, and said he'd secure more votes.”

“Wait… he did?” Aiden questioned. Hadn't Oliver just mentioned getting Karol to vote with them? Four votes, he said. This purported truth stoked doubt that already simmered through him. Thus, he dropped pretences. “He told James and I to vote for Maggy, but only mentioned getting Karol's support, too. Four votes.”

“Well, he didn't tell me about whose votes he planned to secure…” Lake responded, suppressing slight guilt. It wasn't as though Oliver hadn't fired first. “Do you think he might be preparing to play multiple sides?” She inquired, sowing that possibility.

“Hm, given his not so subtle attempts at pressuring people, doesn't sound far-fetched.” Aiden concurred, eyes flicking up. Murk neared fast — not much time for thorough discussion, or analysis. “So, about the vote…”

—Confessional :Lake—

“Lying to Aiden on her first one-to-one talk felt wrong.” She confessed, rubbing her forearm. “But I never had much of an opportunity to make friends beforehand. And the moment I've made two, one of them is on the chopping block…

I hope Aiden isn't too upset, though…”

—End Confessional—

___________

Pitch-darkness hung overhead — broken solely by tiki torches, staked haphazardly across the elimination zone. Illuminating Orange Team members, all seated across rows of tree-stumps. Looks went about, each either certain or hoping themselves or their clique wouldn't fall.

Inevitably, however, one's wordless pleas would pass unanswered. Even to those confident, such reality dawned as Kristal stood before them. Savoring their apprehension, her gaze swept through them.

“I bet you're excited to be here. Wait, no? Oh, yeah — to you, sitting here means being at risk of losing your shot at the million. Oops.” She smirked. “Watching you squirm is so fun, I forget it's bad being on your end. Though, I don't really care either way.” She snickered.

Eyes trained on her palm, upon which her shaky hands lay, Maggy swallowed a whimper. Her stomach churned, painfully aware of the target on her. Part of her felt bad, fretting so much. Rosa had spent the whole afternoon assuaging her worries, with Lake joining in through most of it. Yet, her fear didn't waver.

Discerning Oliver staring her down on the edge of her peripheral vision, it surged with a vengeance. He'd apparently labeled her a threat. But she wondered if he merely loathed her on sight. It… wouldn't be unusual, unfortunately. She quaked with fright.

A stump away, Rosa's heart wrenched over that tangible distress. Longing to reach out, comfort her in even the smallest of ways. A pale finger tapped her shoulder, drawing her attention to Lake shaking her head. Giving others reason to suspect an alliance wouldn't aid Maggy — in fact, it would exacerbate their trouble.

Reluctantly, the purple-haired woman withdrew her hand, balling it against her side. She wasn't sure she'd manage to restrain herself the whole way through, though…

Grinning menacingly, Kristal elevated both arms. “Alright, campers. Get voting!”

___

“That's one massive threat sent packing instantly!” Oliver preened, jotting down Maggy's name. His forehead twinged, wiping that smug grin away momentarily. “Took getting a boot thrown in my face for scaring off an injured raccoon Karol was tending to, but I'm sure I swayed her.” He chuckled sheepishly.

Penning a name hastily, James used most of his screentime here to smirk and wink for the audience.

“Got two nuisances, and an alleged threat- actually, at this point, screw it.” Karol vented, writing a name down. She deserved a bit of catharsis, no matter how small.

Rosa inserted her ballot with a stern expression.

“I'm sorry, but you did start trying to eliminate me first.” Maggy stammered, placing hers in, too.

“This can't always be a squeaky-clean game…” Lake sighed, penciling her vote.

Lastly, Aiden put a finger to his chin. Was this a good idea? Maybe he should've tried researching some- From off-frame, Kristal demanded he worry up. Heaving a sigh, he settled this dilemma on a whim.

___

Cut back to everyone retaking their stumps, as Kristal finished tallying their votes. Bobbing her head, she regarded them with a smirk.

“Once votes are read, the decision is final…”

Daring to look over, Maggy trembled with trepidation. The moment of truth. Would getting booted first from a reality television show get heaped onto the pile of negatives that rendered her a pariah?

“First vote… Maggy!”

Previous assurances faded from memory — all she took notice of was the ominous stare Oliver sent her. Even with his diminutive stature, she nearly sobbed at his lour. She perceived malice behind those glasses. Like a spider advancing on a fly stuck in its web.

Near her, Rosa clenched and unfurled her hands. Keeping herself from intervening grew harder, particularly the longer that cruel guy glared. Noting this, Lake watched with concern, beginning to mouth something-

“Second vote… Maggy!”

Shrinking into herself, the ginger remembered how impossible appearing smaller was, at her size. To her great dismay, given her desire to be invisible. Especially as Oliver developed a self-assured grin, folding his arms.

Whatever restraint Rosa retained shattered once he unfastened that face-hole.

“Sorry there, but our cabin will be much more spacious now.” His thoughtless attempt to sound badass crossed a line too many. Even as Lake gestured frantically for Rosa to simmer down, for their sake.

“You know what?! You need to shut up, Oliver!” Rosa spat, rearing up. “All day, you've just been trying to set Maggy up to fail, and acting all smug when you can.” She pointed toward him. “I'm bursting your bubble here — most people watching this won't find you cool, just a complete bully! One Karol, James and Aiden might just tolerate for an extra vote, at most!” She barked, accidentally outing their knowledge.

Oliver's eyes went as wide as saucers. “W-What… How did you-?”

Timing an interruption immaculately, Kristal turned the next ballot. “Third vote… Oliver!”

Calming down — and perhaps realizing her blunder — Rosa scanned her teammates, unsure what to say. Ultimately, her need to comfort Maggy's terrified self won out, and she came over and embraced her.

“It will be okay…” She promised, sending a remorseful look over her shoulder. Not holding it against her, Lake nodded with understanding, before wincing as Aiden shot her a quizzical look — putting two and two together.

“Fourth vote… Oliver!”

Gripping the rim of his stump, Oliver chortled nervously. “Y-You… You don't have the majority. It's three against four…” He seemed to try convincing himself, most of all. Overlooking strange looks from his alleged allies, he pumped his chest. “Maggy is still going-”

“Fifth vote… James!”

“What?” James scoffed, before clocking it instantly. His head whipped round to shoot the culprit a glower. “Of course, you'd gun for me the first chance you get.” He gritted his teeth — what hint of progress Aiden made on him that afternoon evaporating.

Rolling her eyes, Karol bridled. “You hurt our chances this challenge, then tried deflecting blame onto me while checking your phone right after we lost. Is being a smug dumbass glorified on TikTok, or is that just your brand?” She jabbed.

Sweating, Aiden suddenly felt as though halting their squabbles would become more pivotal from now on. Getting up, he plopped onto a stump between them to mediate. “Can we not fight right now-”

“Fifth vote… Oliver!”

Fingers raking through his scalp, the ex-intern's pupils had reduced to pinpricks. His orbs glided over to Maggy. Between someone soothing her and her name no longer being mentioned the most, her agitation had abated. Weariness appeared to seep in, though she quivered still.

“First person voted out of Disventure Camp…” Kristal protracted their panic, picturing those sky-high ratings.

“Y-You…” Oliver stammered, nearly zipping it as Rosa shot him a glare. Nevertheless, he leveled a finger toward Maggy. “Don't think you're safe yet!” By now, all menace had given way to desperate denial. This wasn't the end. He could come back from this. “You may be stronger, but I'll still find a way to win the tiebreaker-”

“Oliver! That's four votes! Time to get going!” The host proclaimed.

“W-What?!” Oliver exclaimed, shooting off his stump. Fists curled, he regarded James and Aiden. “Which of you flipped?!” The latter raised a hand, wincing. “WHY?!”

“Just… didn't figure it would work out.” Aiden gave a non-answer, narrowing his gaze at Lake.

“That's what you get for getting so aggressive on someone, on day one no less.” Rosa scolded, glaring over Maggy's shoulder. That scathing remark shattered his composure, and he… collapsed onto his knees.

“Um…” Kristal was at a loss for words. “Oliver, you kind of need to get going.” Her words went in one ear and out the other.

“All my life… I've been looked down upon…” Oliver lamented, looking up miserably. “Given swirlies and robbed of lunch money in high-school.” Tears cascaded down his cheeks. “In adulthood, barely anything changed. The only job I managed to get paid pennies — and imposed days upon days of humiliating work, harsh demands and a horrible boss, who was the most wretched man on Earth!” He sobbed.

Eyes bulging, his former teammates watched, speechless.

“That does sound like dad…” Kristal shrugged, uncomfortable.

“And now, now was my only chance to prove myself! Prove I can be something! Anything other than trash!” Unable to take it, he started bawling. “And here's the result! Booted first, to go back to nothing! What will I even do-”

“Okay, okay! I have a solution, just shut up before you make me permanently deaf!” Kristal interrupted, clutching her eardrums, which genuinely hurt from his screeching. “Instead of — I don't know — heading to the streets, you could become an intern here. We are somewhat understaffed.” She downplayed their near-absence of manpower.

“Really?” Oliver perked up, teary eyes twinkling at her ‘mercy’. Before she knew it, he embraced her. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you!” He cried.

“No hugs!” Kristal pushed him away, motioning for him to stand a couple feet to her side. She regarded the remaining six. “The rest of you are free to return to your cabins. I'd advise you to prepare. Wouldn't want to return here too soon, would you?”

___________

—Confessional :Maggy—

Sympathy and gratitude swirled within her.

“I didn't think Oliver could've gone through something so horrible… I'm glad he's still got a job, at least.” Despite her somber tone, a smile came shortly. “Still, I can't believe I actually made it through. I… can't thank Lake and Rosa enough.”

—Confessional :James—

“I know Aiden thinks keeping Karol around is good, but it's not.” He argued. “What good is a meatshield, if they annoy you too much to properly use your brain?” He pointed to the lens. “I want her gone next.”

—Confessional :Lake—

“Thankfully, my lie worked tonight.” Her glimmer of positivity faded pretty quick. “Unfortunately, the others are likely to catch on…” She took a deep breath. “Hopefully, James and Karol's feud keeps those three from working together.

—Confessional :Aiden—

“Voting Oliver off was a hasty move. Clearly, my judgment was way off the mark.” He rubbed his temple, frustrated. “Now, my only hope might be…” Without even uttering it aloud, he processed the uphill battle ahead of him. His shoulders slumped.

“This is going to be rough, isn't it?”

—End Confessional—