Chapter Text
The Jumbo Jet rattles as it lifts off, leaving world famous landmarks behind with every meter gained in altitude. Big Ben and the London Eye are a mere addition to the endless list of destinations that contestants won’t be able to visit on their world tour.
No longer fazed by the disappointment of their tourist destinations, Team Chris is Really, Really Hot eats in the cafeteria, served something for dinner that no country’s government would ever label as food.
Noah isn’t hungry tonight, instead opting to push around the pale, lukewarm mush on his plate with a fork. Alejandro doesn’t touch his meal either, but then again, he never eats unless he’s in first class.
Wordlessly, Noah pushes his plate toward Owen who takes it without hesitation.
As if it’s Alejandro’s move, he chooses to stand from their table and scrape his plate into the trash. He walks out of the cafeteria not sparing a glance for his team. Done with dinner, Noah follows.
Once in economy, Alejandro shifts on the bench, trying to make himself comfortable to no avail. Noah sits across from him.
“Not hungry tonight?” Noah taunts. Alejandro’s sharp eyes narrow at him. “Where’s the strategy in not conserving energy for the next challenge?”
“Better to starve than be sick,” Alejandro responds, voice lacking its artificially sweet tone.
The change in character doesn’t go unnoticed by Noah. He shrugs. “I guess.”
They sit in silence as the plane’s engine groans loudly throughout the cabin, the world’s least comforting white noise.
It’s painfully boring. Noah’s fingertips tap patterns into his crossed arms.
Alejandro catches the movement and smirks. “Are you scared for tonight’s elimination ceremony?” he asks.
“As if,” Noah scoffs. “The only thing that could affect me at this point is if Chris hands me a faulty parachute, and knowing this show, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Hey, at least we’re above the ocean. You might not die,” Alejandro reasons.
“Treading ocean water for hours. Yay!” Noah’s voice lacks enthusiasm. “Try not to get jealous.”
Alejandro chuckles, low and unguarded, no need to front for someone who’s already figured him out. “I’m sure someone from production will come by in a boat,” he says. “The fans would never allow one of us to die, even one so bland as yourself.”
The insult makes Noah smile. “I can’t believe you fooled me with the nice guy act for so long.”
“I am a nice guy,” Alejandro responds, “just not when a million dollars is at stake.”
“Sure, pal,” Noah says.
“I am. I volunteer. I donate to good causes.”
“Watch out, we’ve got a new patron saint on the rise.”
“Yeah, what about you, huh?” Alejandro counters.
“Oh, trust me, I’m leagues above you. Let’s see, what have I done recently?” Noah taps his finger to his chin in faux thought. “I rescued about thirty, give or take, animals out of a burning shelter, started a school for children in some third world country, and I created whichever foundation it was you donate to.” Noah lifts his hands as if to say, no big deal.
“A hero. Increíble,” Alejandro says, shaking his head in amusement. “Where is this school of yours? Maybe I can add a gym. Training the body is just as important as the mind.”
“Yeah, and while you do that, I’ll build a theater to support their creativity.”
“Perfect.” Alejandro leans back against the wall of the cabin. He sighs. “I’ll miss that humor of yours.”
Noah’s brow furrows. “You understand you don’t have to vote for me, right?”
Alejandro doesn’t immediately respond. “That’s true,” he agrees slowly, “but you understand why I will, yes?”
“I see the logic behind it obviously,” Noah says. “If I felt like it, I could turn people against you and ruin everything you’ve worked for. I would never actually do that, but I guess you don’t care about that.”
Alejandro shrugs. “You can never be too careful. For what it’s worth, it won’t be an elimination I enjoy. You’re not like the other contestants.”
“Uh-huh.” Noah’s voice is flat. “You don’t need to sweet talk me, Romeo. I’ve already accepted my fate.”
“I’m serious.” Alejandro’s eyes soften and he holds a hand to his chest in sincerity. “Perhaps in different circumstances, we could have been friends.”
Noah glances away and crosses his arms again. “Yeah, well, guess we’ll never know.”
“But we could know if-“
“Attention Team Chris is Really, Really Smokin Hot! It’s elimination time!” Chris’s voice echoes over the speakers, stretching out the words in a sadistically cheerful way. “Please make your way to the elimination room where, gasp, someone will be taking the drop of shame!” He laughs before ending the transmission.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Noah says, standing up.
Alejandro is quick to block the door with his body, not quite satisfied with how their conversation ended. Noah looks at him, eyebrow raised expectantly.
Alejandro opens his mouth and snaps it shut. Something imperceptible flashes across his eyes. His expression hardens. “Adios, my friend,” is all he says.
Noah scoffs. “Whatever.”