Chapter Text
Noah started to suspect his time on the Total Drama World Tour was over the second Owen dumped the bag containing the Ripper onto the floor in front of Chris. The Amazons hadn’t arrived, aside from Sierra and Cody, who were kinda twisted up in each other and looking for their companions. Alejandro was glaring at him with a look so cold it could’ve frozen hell over— Noah felt himself shudder involuntarily. There was no way he could’ve known about what Noah said, right…?
“Oh, good! You’re all okay!” Owen said with a doofy grin, looking at Tyler and Alejandro. Owen was as clueless as ever, smiling up at the furious Spaniard. “I was worried about you, Al! Since you got taken first, and everything.” Noah didn’t miss the way Alejandro’s eye twitched as Owen gave him the compliment.
“I’m glad some people care about their teammates!” Alejandro announced, and Noah knew he was done for. Had Alejandro somehow seen into the torture room? He should’ve been more careful— those goddamn cameras were everywhere!
“Did you… see everything?” Noah asked hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with the boy who burned like the sun. He toed the ground with his shoe, trying to figure out how Alejandro could’ve discovered the things he said about him. To distract his hands, he untied the bag the Ripper was in, revealing an old man in a costume. Noah kept the bag fastened around the old man’s shoulders, on the off-chance that he might run and try to ruin the challenge while they waited for the Amazons. When he looked up, Alejandro’s green eyes met his, and he shuddered again.
“Like an eel, dipped in grease ,” Alejandro hissed, repeating what Noah had said about him, and Noah internally began to pack his bags.
“Um…!” he sputtered, scrambling to think of an explanation. “It’s a… compliment where I come from! Haha… hah… tough neighborhood, you know,” he managed, and knew it was a bad excuse the second it came from his mouth. He prodded the serial killer in the bag with his toe— fuck, he was making such an ass of himself. At least he’d be able to wait out one elimination, surviving to the next challenge, considering the Amazons still weren’t back with their query, and Chris Hot x4 had the Ripper. Maybe if Team Chris kept winning, Noah might even be able to make merge, granted enough of the Amazons got voted off. Speaking of the devils, there they all came— holding a burlap sack over their shoulders.
Fuck.
Duncan was dumped onto the ground unceremoniously from the Amazon's bag, Courtney dusting off her hands with a scowl. “You asked us to bring back a criminal, didn’t you?” Duncan looked about as pleasant as a bulldog with rabies, the bag still fastened around his ankles. He brought out his knife to cut it open, and Noah took a step back out of instinct.
“I did…” Chris mulled, and Noah felt a surge of annoyance. His time as Chris’s assistant made him recognize that voice— he was seriously considering letting the Amazons have the win?! The goal of the challenge was to catch the Ripper!
“Well, if they caught the criminal, what’s the actor doing in our bag?” Noah asked, frustration dripping from his words. “If the goal of the challenge was to catch… Duncan,” he said, glancing at the knife in the aforementioned’s hand and deciding against calling him something much less polite than his name, “then why have an intern act as the Ripper and beat me up?”
“Actually,” Chris corrected, then promptly ripped their prisoner’s face off, “it isn’t an actor at all.”
Noah let out a rather girly scream, which promptly made him red in the face. With all the voice training in the world, he hadn’t been able to get a manlier scream. Underneath the prisoners face… mask…? Underneath it, more importantly, was Ezekiel. What the hell? He suddenly felt twice as embarrassed about his scream. But, out of everyone, if he didn’t know Chris was more than willing to rip off someone’s real face for the show, who did?
“Funny seeing me, ey?” Ezekiel asked, and the waiting group erupted into various protests. Ezekiel, without a doubt, had been voted off in the first episode. In the Egypt challenge, he was the first member of Team Victory to go, a terrible first domino in the stack. The start of an unstoppable toppling of the team with possibly the most ironic name of them all.
“Curious…” Alejandro mumbled behind Noah, and the hairs on the back of his neck raised. When did he get so close to Noah without him noticing?! How did he...?
“Yeah, sooo… because Duncan like, quit, in that episode... technically Ezekiel’s elimination didn’t count. The team who captured him was supposed to get him as a reward, but actually Duncan is a much cooler prize for the winners, which is… Team Amazon!” Chris said, picking at his nails as if the whole affair bored him. Noah knew he was probably screaming with glee in his head— putting Duncan on Team Amazon was, without a doubt, a way to secure more drama for the season. Courtney and Gwen already both looked horrified.
“Team Amazon?!” Owen protested, and Noah’s heart sank. They… lost. Which meant…
He turned on his heels to look slowly up at Alejandro. A self-satisfied smirk crept onto the tanned boy’s face, smug like the cat who caught the mouse. Noah, meanwhile, felt more cornered than he’d ever been in the game so far. He was going home tonight, he could feel it. There was no way Alejandro was letting him get past this point, not now that he revealed Alejandro’s true nature. Even if Tyler and Owen didn’t really believe him.
“Now, back on the plane! Oh, Ezekiel, join Team Chris as a consolation prize. I’m sure they’re thrilled to have you!” Chris said, gesturing everyone back onto the metal death-trap he called a plane. Alejandro’s cold expression smoothed over, and his natural smirk made its way back onto his face.
“Hola, amigo. Lovely to have a leg up on the opposition, even if they got Duncan. I believe we will make a great team!” Alejandro purred, extending his warm hands for a handshake. His stupid warm hands! Noah had noted how unreasonably warm they were when Alejandro pulled him up onto the boat in Newfoundland. He saw the same stupid sparkles in Ezekiel’s eyes as he probably had in Newfoundland, too. Stupid… stupid–! Charming, squirmy, eel! Noah hated him! Though, if Noah was correct, he single-handedly decided who would get voted off. He, no doubt, had Tyler and probably Ezekiel’s votes secured already, especially with this show of winning the pasty Canadian over. Double-especially because Alejandro didn’t know anything about how unpopular Ezekiel was with the other contestants, so his fresh treatment of him was likely twice as effective to the battered, bullied Ezekiel. Noah personally thought he deserved it, but what could you do?
“H-Hah, hah… yeah! Uh, we will!” Ezekiel sputtered, and Noah marked him off on the list of potential allies. Ezekiel had 100% fallen for Alejandro’s stupid, blinding smile, and his stupid, perfected charms. Fuck. Noah was so screwed.
Then… he remembered something. A section of the cargo hold… with no cameras. He had a faint idea of a plan, but it would definitely have to be down there. He couldn’t let it air.
He trudged back onto the plane, accidentally catching Alejandro’s eyes again when he tripped over his own feet going up the stairs. Urgh. He hated being looked at so closely by the eel, like he was being scrutinized for everything. He felt self-conscious of even just his breathing, feeling his heart fight pathetically against his ribcage like it was trying to escape. He tugged on his collar, which suddenly felt way too small. How did Alejandro manage to make him feel so small?
Then, when they got onto the plane, the girls made their way into first class. Skipping dinner entirely— no doubt to make good on the snacks and better food first class provided. Instead, the boys, now including Ezekiel, made their way to the dining hall.
Ezekiel must’ve ate his weight in Chef’s slop. Alejandro and Noah both watched him, interest on the formers face and concern on the latters. Had he not eaten at all in the cargo hold? Owen, too, had rather a lot to eat, and Tyler barely touched his. In his own words earlier in the season, it wasn’t “protein dense” enough to be worth eating. Noah was surprised he hadn’t passed out from malnutrition yet. He poked at his own food with his fork, but something about it seemed off, so he decided against eating it. “To economy we go,” Alejandro remarked ruefully as Ezekiel and Owen finished their food, standing without touching his own plate, either. Those two, Alejandro and Tyler, only ate when they won first class, which might’ve been the source of Alejandro’s discontent. With that, he shot another glance at Noah, eyebrows furrowing together as if Noah was the reason they lost the challenge. Alejandro had gotten captured first! It was his fault! Hey, there was an upside, though. With all these cold glances, he may solve climate change, in Noah’s opinion.
Noah settled into the bench of the economy class easily. Owen curled up on the seat, looking unusually tired. “Wake me up before the elimination, little buddy…” he wheezed, eyes closing. Owen could sleep anywhere, but Noah hadn’t ever seen Tyler curl up as peacefully as he did then, too. Just as he was starting to suspect foul play, Ezekiel slid down the wall from sitting to lying as he fell unconscious. He looked up at Alejandro in a panic— only to see the Spaniard’s calm face smiling at him.
It was decidedly worse than the glares.
“Well? You have anything to say for yourself, cerebrito?” Alejandro asked with a curl of his lips.
“No, not here,” Noah quickly says back, glancing at his fallen teammates. “I don’t know what you put them out with, which, just saying…? Psychotic. Not helping your case. Point being, I wanna do this elsewhere. I have a place, uh…” Noah suddenly realized how at Alejandro’s mercy he was. His original plan relied on catching Alejandro by surprise and dragging him to the cargo hold, not asking him to come willingly…! How did he keep throwing Noah off guard like that?
“The confessional…?” Alejandro offered, sounding almost… bored. Like that’s what he’d been expecting and he only drugged the others to scare Noah, or for fun, or something. What the hell was wrong with this guy?
“No, what, do you think I’m stupid? Besides, the lock’s broken…” Noah offered in return, watching Alejandro’s eyebrows hike up his face. “There’s a spot in the cargo hold with no cameras. That’ll do.”
“My, my… if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were propositioning me. Or, planning my murder,” Alejandro said with a wry grin, and Noah shook his head vehemently. Now, he could admit that Alejandro was hot. Capital “H” hot, without a doubt, but the suggestion was so indecent, Noah doubted they’d even be able air the footage. No, seriously, what the hell was wrong with this guy?
“Hey, could be both,” Noah mumbled under his breath as he stood and walked towards the door to the cargo hold. He heard Alejandro’s footsteps falter, but didn’t look back to see if he had heard Noah’s quip. Down into the dark hold Noah went, trekking down a few stairs into the area filled with boxes. It did feel a little indecent, being down here with another person. Usually, Noah just hung out down here alone, reading whatever books he could filch from Chris’s room.
Alejandro settled on a box after Noah indicated the area the cameras couldn’t pick up, making him even taller than Noah. It was dark in the cargo hold, and Noah suddenly felt antsy about being so isolated with this snake. Who knows what Alejandro could do to him down here? Alejandro crossed his arms smugly, looking down at Noah with a condescending air. “So? Any defense, cerebrito? It’s not every day I get called an eel, you know. And I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out who’s going home tonight, no? Yet... I keep catching you looking at me… like you want to tell me something. Am I correct?”
Noah was… mildly impressed with Alejandro’s deductions. He had, indeed, wanted to talk to the man. Were these the ideal circumstances for his plan? Far from it!! Though, he couldn’t help but think… he wasn’t ready to go home. He wanted to keep playing. He didn’t want to go to the Playa de Losers, get called a lazy, useless team member again. He didn’t want a repeat of dodgeball, all because he’d gotten careless with his words. “Alejandro,” he started, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. The name tasted foreign on his tongue. “Why did you keep me on the team for so long?” he asked, and it was obvious Alejandro wasn’t expecting this question.
“Si, that is the question, isn’t it? Seems it was a bad choice, but… you’re smart. You were smart, anyways. Seems you got sloppy, no? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about you?” Alejandro asked, but Noah ignored his ribbing and focused on the middle. Alejandro thought he was… smart. He could work with that.
Firmly not acknowledging the question, Noah looked up at Alejandro. The boxes around him almost resembled a throne, as silly and flimsy as Alejandro’s hold on this reality show. Everyone wanted to be a millionaire— it was a matter of if Alejandro had the strength to do it. “Owen and Tyler didn’t believe me,” Noah said, letting out a huff of air with the statements. He didn’t breathe back in, and continued speaking in a rush, tripping over his words. “I’m not ready to go home yet, and we have weaker teammates than me. I know I’m a wild card to you right now, but I promise I’ll be your vote if you let me stay. There’s someone else who’s vote you can’t control, who’s a weaker competitor than me. If you vote them off instead, I’ll– I’ll be your loyal dog, okay?”
Sorry, Owen.
In his head, Noah profusely apologized to his friend. It was the only way he could think of to stay in the game, and Owen already had his taste of winning. His taste that he had wasted. It was Noah’s turn, it was finally Noah’s turn to use his IQ, strategize, not waste his time. He hated doing work, but this was the only way he’d ever be something. Just being smart wasn’t enough, not for his school, not for his parents, not for this game. He would win. Even if it cost Owen’s second chance.
The gears turned in Alejandro’s head. It was like Noah could see them working, each tooth meticulously shifting in place until the whole machine began to whir. Alejandro had processed what Noah was asking from him, and a sick grin spread across his face. “Now, that’s unexpected. What brought this on, mi querida? You know exactly what kind of a person I am. What benefit serves you, being my dog? You know I’ll just use you to get to victory, and then toss you aside?”
This was exactly the line of questioning Noah was afraid of. If Alejandro prodded too much, he’d discover Noah’s true motivation. Keep your friends close… but your enemies closer. If Owen was off the plane, there was no way Alejandro could doubt Noah’s loyalty to him. Then, when Noah stabbed him in the back at the last second, he’d be none the wiser.
“I want to get farther this time,” Noah managed, swallowing back sticky-sweet saliva. “I need to make it to merge, at least. If Tyler makes it further than me, I’m gonna be angry. I gotta prove… prove myself. To my family,” he said, and Alejandro’s expression tensed, so Noah quickly switched subject, “to my friends, and… to myself. I want to prove I can try to do things, that I can put in effort to things.” It was a half-lie, a half-truth. He was sure allying with Alejandro would get him to merge, but then after that… Alejandro was going down.
“So… do we have a deal?” Noah offered, extending his hand with a rightfully abashed expression. As rotten as it felt, he’d be safe to try his best to win another day… and Owen would be none the wiser. There was no footage to prove their misdeeds.
“Deal,” Alejandro nodded, then clasped Noah’s hand in his, warmth sealing this contract to change the game forever.