Work Text:
In and out. Scope out the area and leave. That’s all Chase needed to do to complete this first step in piecing back together his online presence.
As it turned out, most people on the internet weren’t too fond of him “endangering his girlfriend” and “liked her more than any of the guys on the channel, anyways”. Though he left out any mention of the fact during his audition tape and while on Total Drama, the subscriber count for Three Guys in a Beach House had fallen drastically following the whole car crash prank. Joining the show had been a last-ditch effort to regain the popularity he needed and deserved. And it worked! Not only did Chase win Emma back, but she also rejoined the channel and got their popularity to skyrocket higher than ever.
…Until the show aired and everything fell apart again. Emma not only left for good, but also made multiple videos calling out Chase and all his “atrocious behaviour”. His subscriber count crashed into new lows. No longer were his YouTube notifications filled new subs and compliments from adoring fans, but rather angry rants and tags on other YouTubers’ videos analyzing his rise and fall. “Nothing to worry about with the hatebase,” Chase had first insisted to Archie and Jacob, the other two channel guys. “They’re just the vocal minority.” But as they tried to resume their normal content outpour as though nothing happened at all, the abysmal statistics on each new video proved anything but.
Chase had become a fallen star.
He was more desperate than he had let on during the second season of Total Drama. Winning, or even just getting far, was vital to rekindling what he once had. He needed to force himself back into the spotlight and remind an even wider audience just how amazing he was. Forget Emma, forget the pranks, forget the channel. They needed to see him. Chase Ragasa, in his full glory. Chase Ragasa, stealing the show. Chase Ragasa, effortlessly sweeping away all the others while on his path to becoming the fan favorite—
And then he got eliminated second. Like a loser.
With his dreams of Total Drama success shattered, so too did the hope for an easy fresh start flee from his grasp. The channel didn’t last long after Chase returned home. He begged Archie and Jacob to stay, to try with him one last time, but they didn’t budge in their decision to leave. They claimed he was only going to soil their reputations further, and they needed to cut contact before he ruined their future prospects beyond repair. Neither so much as returned his texts anymore, not even to talk casually. They didn’t even give the decency of blocking him. They just ignored him.
Over the following months, Chase tried everything to frantically clean up the mess that they left him with. He tried multiple times to rebrand his image, from vlogging to gaming to media reviews. Each new attempt brought him minimal attention at best and vehement hate at worst. He reached out to multiple large (and even small, at points of weakness) channels to do any sort of collab, but nobody wanted him within a hundred-foot radius of their filming equipment. He even tried signing up for any other reality shows he met the requirements of, only to receive solely rejection letters in return.
The whole ordeal hurt his spirits more than he’d like to admit. He spent many a night in a cold, empty beach house with nothing but countless empty pizza boxes and his laptop to keep him company. He wasn’t sad, of course— people as awesome as him were above that sort of weakness— but his eyes may have… gotten a bit watery. On occasion. When he stayed up too late and all his thoughts got overwhelmingly convoluted, he even considered calling his parents for the first time in years. He retained enough restraint to keep from doing so, though. He wasn’t that desperate.
After a few weeks of moping due to his latest failed plan, Chase had enough of how quiet his life had grown. He spent months trying to start anew, and it was about time he tried a different approach: returning to his roots. And his roots were cool stunts guaranteed to hook the attention of anyone who so much as caught a glimpse of them. Sure, it would maybe be a bit more difficult to pull off at the same degree as before while alone, but he had always been the most talented one on the channel. If anyone could do it, it would be him. A few days of contemplating and planning led to where he was now: climbing to the top of a construction site in the middle of the night.
He wasn’t about to film and execute a stunt here and now, of course. He would need supplies for that. Cameras to catch every angle. A cooler outfit than his usual hoodie. Maybe a first aid kit, just in case. Tonight was just meant for checking out the site to better plan out what he would do.
Chase scrambled up through scaffolding and steel bars with ease as he made his way to the top of the skeleton of a building. He was even doing it one-handed, as his non-climbing hand held his phone with the camera rolling. Even if this wasn’t the official time for whatever stunt he decided to pull, he wanted everything recorded just in case something cool happened. He needed all the worthwhile film he could get for this to pay off.
The roar of crickets and frogs in the surrounding area caused Chase to pause in his ascent. He closed his eyes, imagining the sound as a cacophony of applause. The cold night air swept about him and helped to dry the sweat forming on the back of his neck. When he opened his eyes to the sky above, the stars shone down like a million little spotlights. If nature was cheering him on, he had to be doing something right.
He continued upward with renewed vigour. Each grab and pull of a bar above him was like a “take that!” to the faces of everyone and everything that had wronged him.
“Take that, Archie,” he began to mutter himself, his volume growing as he continued. “Take that, Jacob. Take that, hate comments. Take that, stupid callout videos. Take that, Total Drama! Take that, Em—”
Maybe the image of her face in his mind was what caused him to falter. Maybe remembering all the pain she’d caused distracted him. Maybe it was Emma’s way of screwing him over one last time. Either way, as Chase shouted out her name, his hand missed the next bar up. The disruption of momentum caused him to lose his balance. He frantically grabbed at it again, but missed it once more as the top half of his body fell backward. Though he managed to hook his legs onto a bar below, he had no time to take advantage of it before his head swung down and collided into metal with a loud clang.
Chase’s vision blurred as pain exploded in the back of his skull. He let out a startled cry and instinctively wrapped his arms around his head. He hissed air out between his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the disorientation to disperse before making any more movements. Any sense of coherency in his thoughts scattered.
He didn’t quite process the sound of metal creaking as it echoed in his ears. He barely registered the feeling of his legs slowly sliding. To his dazed mind, the loud crack and sudden lack of support under his legs came without warning. When he opened his eyes again out of surprise, the world already rushed into a messy blur of shapes and dull colours. He was falling. He had no time to react before something slammed into his torso with what felt like ten times as much force as the impact to the back of his head. And then that same force hit his left leg. And then his forehead. And then his ribs.
Even amidst the panic and sudden agony, he could hear the sickening crack that echoed through his body at each impact.
A broad surface slammed into Chase’s back, and finally, the movement stopped. The night fell eerily silent as his eyes stared blankly at the still-shining stars, glimmering in a lack of care towards the fiery suffering that lit through his system. After another moment of stillness, Chase finally managed to gasp for air. As his lungs filled, sharp pain exploded again in his chest. Each following breath, the feeling only intensified.
Time sludged by for a few minutes— or maybe it was only seconds? — as his mind slowly pieced itself back together. He continued to take rattling, agonizing breaths, having no other choice in the matter. Each elicited a strangled cry from him, which only caused the pain to grow. He was trapped into perpetuating his own anguish.
He was… on the ground. He could figure out that much. And more than just his chest hurt, unfortunately. There was a sharp sting coming from his forehead, from which he felt warm liquid dripping down. The rest of his body ached with differing levels of less intense but just as unwanted pain. Something had to be broken. Multiple things were, if he was being honest. Especially given how far he had fallen. High enough to kill someone, he thought with no small amount of alarm.
Of course that had to be the first full-sentence thought he could string together. But he wasn’t dead, that much he knew. Which meant he was fine, right? Or at least, he would be fine at some point in the future. He just needed to get up and get help. However, the moment he so much as shifted, his bones screamed at him to stop. His eyes watered profusely, and he had to swallow down a pathetic whimper that threatened to spill out from his mouth. No way would he let himself make that kind of noise with his camera rolling.
Wait. His phone. Was it even still intact? He couldn’t lift his arm to look, so instead he tilted his head to the side with much effort to look at his right arm sprawled out beside him. His phone was still in his hand, at least. When he tilted up his hand to look at the screen, his heart dropped at the cracks webbing across it— but then relief tore through the suffering clouding his mind as it still lit up at the movement. He could call emergency services and get help. He would bounce back. He would be okay.
However, as his thumb hovered over the lockscreen emergency contact button, he paused. He realized the implications of his location. He hadn’t exactly gotten permission to use the construction site at night. Or at all, really. This was private property, and though paramedics wouldn’t ask questions while rushing him to the hospital, the police certainly would after he recovered. He was used to dealing with authorities about trespassing, but that was always after the release of a successful video, when he had enough money and fame to deter their investigations. This time, he had nothing of the sort to back him up.
Panic rose up in Chase’s throat. If he called emergency services here, he could end up getting fined. Or maybe go to jail. He couldn’t afford either in his state. He’d be ruined. Any chance of rebuilding his image, of regaining his fame and popularity, gone. He’d be nothing but a note in Canada’s criminal records. He didn’t want to be that. Couldn’t be that. He needed another way to get help.
With a shaking hand, he tried dialling Jacob, and then Archie. Neither answered. Of course they didn’t. They probably wouldn’t even have a clue on what to do if they did. Chase scrolled down his contacts for anyone else worth calling. Sponsorships, old conversations with other content creators, the occasional acquaintance… No name stuck out to him as nearby and able to help. Why did he have so few friends who lived in the area? As his worry and frustration continued to build, an older contact caught his eye. Last message, one year ago. Emma.
He couldn’t… Could he? She didn’t want anything to do with him. She was a complete traitor, having been the reason he got eliminated in season 2 of Total Drama and contributing to the devastation of his online image. Still, even with the indignation that her name stirred up in his mind, his memory drifted farther back to when they were still together. When she was on the channel. Getting hurt during a stunt wasn’t a new experience to Chase. He had earned himself many a scrapped knee or gash in the arm. After each injury, he would sulk over to Emma and fix her with those puppy-dog eyes she could never resist. She would sigh and insist he needed more safety precautions so this didn’t keep happening, but would bandage up each and every wound anyways. Her warm assurances when he winced at the sting of the rubbing alcohol, the way she so gently wrapped the gauze around the injury and squeezed his hand when she was done… She could help with this, right? Even if she wanted him out of her life, even if she had directly harmed him in the past, she wouldn’t refuse to help when his injuries were potentially fatal. Right?
With a moment of deliberation, Chase pressed Emma’s contact and hit the call button. He turned it on speaker, since he still couldn’t bring his arm to his head. He waited with baited breath as the phone rung once. Twice. Thrice. As the sixth ring came, the light in his eyes dulled. She wasn’t going to answer, was she? And then he would be back to having nobody. Nothing. No way to make it out. To make another day.
But then her voice rang out from his phone’s speakers like an angel’s. An irritated, disgruntled angel, but still an angel. His saving grace.
“What do you want? It’s, like, one in the morning.”
“Emma,” Chase rasped, then winced at both the sound and the way that talking made it feel like his lungs were imploding.
“I— What’s with your voice? Wait, are you crying?”
Given any other circumstance, Chase would have vehemently denied such an accusation. But he couldn’t waste time for that. “I need help.”
He could hear her heaving a sigh over the line. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not coming back to the channel. I don’t care how many subscribers you’ve lost. For the last time, that’s what I wanted to happen.”
“It’s not— it’s not about the channel,” he choked out. “I messed up. I’m hurt. I need— need you to come get me.”
There was a pause. “…What did you do? And how hurt?”
“I-I fell. Really badly. I think I broke a lot— my arms, legs, ribs, maybe my back, I don’t know—” Even though every word pierced through his chest, once he started, he just couldn’t stop spilling it all out. “—and I might d— might die. I actually might die. I’m scared, Emma. I’m so, so scared. Please help me. Please.”
A sharp intake of breath and another pause. “Chase, I d—” Emma’s voice wavered and cut off. However, when she continued, the hardness of her tone stabbed into Chase’s heart like a dagger. “You can deal with whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself in. I’m not coming.”
“Wait, no!” His voice came out strangled and raw. “What, you— you’re gonna let me die just to… to prove a point?!”
“I’m not letting you die.”
But that made no sense. If she was refusing to help, then— Oh.
“You… don’t believe me…?” he croaked.
“Of course I don’t!” Emma spat. “I know how good of an actor you are. I’m not stupid, Chase. I’m not letting you trick me into meeting face-to-face just so you can pull another one of your pathetic wooing attempts on me. We’re done, and that’s that. Get that in your head already.”
Chase’s head spun. His vision grew splotchy— whether due to the emotional or physical damage he was experiencing, he had no idea. She wasn’t coming. She wasn’t coming. And if she didn’t come…
“Please! I’m sorry!” The shout tore from his mouth before he had a chance to think. “I’m sorry for everything! Just— Just believe me, please! You have to!”
The force of the volume led to his whole body seizing up due to the unbearable agony it caused. Searing pain bloomed within his ribcage— That was such a pretty word for such an awful experience, wasn’t it? Bloom. If pain were blooming flowers, his lungs were filled with bouquets. He tried to breathe in, but the air caught on its way down. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t inhale. He tried to exhale instead, which let to a fit of violent coughing wracking his body. A metallic taste filled his mouth, and finally he could draw in a gasping, desperate breath.
Emma remained silent the whole ordeal. When the sound of Chase’s rattling breathing returned, she spoke up again. “Are you actually…?” She trailed off. “No. No, no, I’m not falling for this. Drop the act. I’m not coming to see you, and that’s final.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. But you’re my only hope, he wanted to say. I need you. I really do. More than I ever have. But no sound came out. He could only wheeze out. Gasp for the next breath. Wheeze out. Gasp.
Finally, something resembling words managed to escape him, though barely audible. “…I love you.”
Silence. Maybe she was contemplating that. Maybe it was the missing piece he needed to save his life. Maybe—
“No,” she murmured, a forlorn tone seeping into her voice. “You don’t. You never did. You loved everything I did for you. You loved how much attention I brought to the channel. You loved the fact that someone loved you. You loved a lot of things, but you never loved me.” She fell silent for a moment. “Goodbye, Chase.”
So. That was that. “…Bye, Ems.”
The line went dead.
Chase stared blankly at his phone screen. There went his last chance to get out of this. Maybe he should just call an ambulance and deal with prison. Then he’d at least live, even if it was without the attention he thrived off of.
But… even though it took more and more effort to suck in each breath, the pain was starting to fade. That was good, right? Maybe his body was fixing itself on its own. It was fine. He would be fine.
Chase aimlessly scrolled back up his contact list as the edges of his vision blurred and darkened. He needed someone else to talk to. He needed to get Emma’s voice out of his head. He stopped at a name towards the top. Zee. The only friend who still bothered to talk to him after… everything. Zee lived too far away to ever possibly help, that much he knew, but he wasn’t looking for that anymore.
It only took two rings for Zee to pick up. “Heyyy, dude, what’re you doing up so late…?” His voice was quiet, like he was trying to avoid disturbing something nearby. “I’m staying at Damien’s place tonight, so I probably can’t be on long, but…”
“I just… need someone to talk to…” Chase whispered hoarsely.
“Whoa, dude, are you crying?”
Chase almost wanted to laugh at that. “S…Something like that.”
“That isn’t good. What’s wrong?”
Chase stopped to think for a few moments. Zee couldn’t do anything, so what point was there in explaining how pathetic of a situation he had gotten himself in? It was better to stay vague. “I, uh… You know how you once told me that I… that I need to start… letting go…?”
“Of Emma? Yeah, man, chasing after her is, like… tearing you apart.”
A bit more specific than Chase was talking about, but alright. “…I think I’m ready to… to do that. To let go.”
The way the words fell from his lips, breathless and light, felt… right. The panic in his mind ebbed away, and so did the last whispers of aching in his body. It was fine. He was fine.
“Oh, dude, that’s great!” Zee said. “But it’s probably hard going, huh? How’re you feeling?”
“I’m… fine. I think I just… I just need to hear someone talk. To help me… sleep.”
“Of course, yeah, total sense. I can do that. Whaddya want me to talk about?”
“H…How was your day…?”
“It was great! A while back, me and Damien were talking ‘bout friend experiences and stuff, and he mentioned not ever having a sleepover before. So I was like, ‘Dude, you have to try it sometime,’ and then I realized we both live pretty close, so—”
Zee’s voice melted into a pleasant drone, drifting in one ear and out the other. Chase lifted his gaze to the spotlights in the sky, watching as they each blinked out one by one while the darkness poured into his vision. A soft smile drifted across his face as warm fuzziness spread through his body, beckoning him into unconsciousness. He closed his eyes with a fluttering sigh.
He was fine.
—
Zee stayed on the line for half an hour after Chase stopped responding. He knew his words weren’t being heard, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be there for his friend, even if said friend was asleep.
Finally, his rambling drew to a close. He fell silent for a few moments, enjoying the peacefulness of the quiet over the line. “Night, Chase,” he murmured gently. “Sleep well.”
He paused.
“And I’m glad you’re moving on. Things are only gonna get better for you. I know it.”