Chapter Text
Someone like me would never apply for a reality show. So… why did I do it?
Honestly, I never thought they would accept me. It wasn’t like I saw it as a personal challenge—it all started as a silly chat with my friends. We were joking about who would survive a reality show when we saw that auditions had opened for the new, “super promising” show.
“—A hundred thousand dollars?!” said Joey, one of my friends.
“Dude, for a hundred grand I’d do anything.”
“You’d do anything for five dollars, Joey,” Marissa said.
“Wouldn’t you?” he replied, confused.
“Realistically, even if I won, my parents would probably take all the money away from me to ‘save it’.”
“Wow, yeah, that could happen,” Joey said, scratching the back of his neck.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t blame them. Knowing you, you’d probably blow it all impulsively,” Marissa added, which made me laugh.
“Oh yeah? And you, Noah? What would you do?” Both of them looked at me with curiosity. What would I do with a hundred grand?
“I don’t know. Pay for college, I guess.” I replied uninterested
“I knew it would be something boring!” Joey laughed.
“It’s still more mature than whatever you’d do with that money,” Marissa said, raising an eyebrow.
Marissa and Joey always act like a married couple sometimes.
It’s not like I feel like the third wheel, but there’s always this little tension between them, like they’re this close to swapping spit.
They’re weird. I know they like each other, it’s painfully obvious. Why don’t they just admit it already?
We’ve gone to those typical high school parties where some random guy you’ve never spoken to invites you just so people will remember him for throwing a “great party.” They always end up being the same crap as any other party.
Anyway, I’m getting off track. At these parties, I’m usually the one stuck listening to either Joey or Marissa, drunk, confessing they’re attracted to each other. And every single time, I tell them, “Then just say it already!” But nope—there’s always some excuse.
It’s so annoying.
So, why don’t I do something about it?
First of all, it’s not my problem. It’s theirs. Sure, I can give my two cents—I always have something to say, hello?—but playing matchmaker is not in my job description.
If I got involved, I’d just end up being the messenger: ‘Tell her I said this,’ ‘Tell him I meant that’. Ugh… no, thanks. I’d rather watch them bicker about pointless stuff than get dragged into their unbearable romantic tension.
I never really understood why people make such a mess over feelings.
Maybe because I’ve never been in love.
...
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m gay.
But if I’ve never been in love, how do I know I’m gay? Well, first of all, you don’t need to fall in love to know. I’ve always been more attracted to guys than girls. I always felt it. And since I’m a reasonable person, I’ve accepted it and—surprise!—the world kept spinning and no one’s died because I’m a little gay. Or at least, not yet. I’d like to do the experiment with my homophobic aunts someday.
Anyway, yeah, never been in love, but I’m not some poor virgin either. Everything I’ve experienced has just been about quick attraction—nothing romantic.
My first kiss and all that? Honestly irrelevant. People act like it defines your entire love life. I think that’s stupid. It’s just a kiss.
Marissa once told me it’s because I “haven’t opened up to the right person yet.” And yeah, maybe she’s right. But I’m just broken. I’m just someone who enjoys wasting time with people and nothing more.
But hey, don’t pity me.
The point is, I don’t get why people lose their brains over romance.
So, after that talk, the three of us thought it’d be hilarious to audition for the show. Like we were important people at school or something.
I mean, like they’d ever choose any of us, right?
In my case, I didn’t try too hard. I bragged a little, said I had a “plan” and that I’d make it far. Joey helped by shouting in the background, pretending to be some stranger congratulating me for “being president again.” I went along with it. Somehow, it turned out decent.
I wasn’t really thinking straight, I just went with the flow.
The funny thing is, the producers of Total Drama Island must’ve gotten thousands of audition tapes. And in the middle of all that, there was ours. Who would waste their time watching us?
Let’s be real—they usually pick the “attractive but shallow” types.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.We were all speechless when I found out I had made it into the damn reality show.
Me.
I honestly had more faith in my friends than myself. But me? That left us stunned.
The next thing I thought was: How?
I don’t have any fucking idea.
It’s not that I think I’m ugly—I’m not—but I’m not Taylor Lautner. Maybe they wanted more variety or something.
Anyway… one hundred thousand dollars could be mine. Surreal.
After that, I told my parents. They were as shocked as I was, mostly because I actually bothered to send an audition tape. As a joke, people! They didn’t get the “joke” part. My siblings, though, were the most excited.
Being the youngest means I get spoiled more… and teased more. With them, it’s mostly the teasing.
All they told me was basically: “Don’t screw this up. Don’t say or do anything embarrassing. Or gay.” That part stuck with me.
Damn. Are they even gay-friendly?
Thinking back, my audition was super gay. They must already know. You don’t need a genius IQ to notice.
And so… weeks later, I was on a plane heading to Muskoka. The day before, Marissa and Joey had said their goodbyes.
I told them both I wanted to see them holding hands when I got back. It was the least I could do.
At the airport, only my parents came with me. They weren’t too convinced, but the thought of all that prize money made them give in.
The flight was normal. A couple of kids my age were on the same plane. Maybe they were also going to Total Drama.
I hoped not.
According to the brochure, they promised us luxury: beaches, jacuzzis, all that too-good-to-be-true stuff. Probably wasn’t true. But fine—I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.
Yeah…sometimes I hate being right.
It clearly wasn’t some luxury beach. Everything looked run-down, the cabins seemed abandoned for years, and I could already tell the food would be the kind of stuff you just reheat in a microwave. Could’ve been worse, I guess.
With a sigh, I arrived.
“—Is this where we’re staying?”
“No, it’s your mom’s house, and we’re throwing a party,” said a guy with green hair.
Great. Someone who thinks he’s funnier than me.
“Hilarious. Nice piercings—did you do them yourself?”
“Yeah. Want one?” he said, grabbing my lower lip. Nice. I’d already earned myself a semi-enemy the moment I set foot on this island.
Kinda gay that he touched my lip though. Even for him, that was low. After that little interaction with the resident punk, I saw more people arriving.
Looks like they really did watch every audition. A little bit of everything showed up. And me? I figured I was picked to be the “funny gay guy,” like Damian from Mean Girls.
I expected everyone to be hot model-types, but no—they definitely wanted variety. We had goths, punks, nerds, weirdos, queen bees, psychos—you name it. No idea how this was supposed to work, but the producers seemed excited about it.
Chris, the host, gave us his dramatic introduction. He’s the one assigning the stupid challenges and splitting us into teams. I ended up a Screaming Gopher or whatever.
Ugh, why didn’t I read what we’d actually have to do here? I thought this would be like Jersey Shore or one of those shows my sisters and I—secretly—binge. But physical labor? I was already starting to regret this.
After the long, boring intro, people started chatting. Apparently, there’s one cabin for the guys and one for the girls. Great. Now I had even more reason not to act gay.
Before I could worry about my gay attitude, a big blonde guy named Owen that started making accidental gay commentaries. I caught a few glances from the guitarist guy as a response to that—his name is Trent, I think. I’ll admit, he’s cute, but he already had his eyes on the goth girl. Of course.
There was also one “pretty boy” type—the kind of contestant I expected them to pick. Only one, though. And honestly? He looked gayer than me.
The food? Don’t even get me started. It was trash. Pretty sure the chef was an ex-con. Couldn’t eat it. I passed mine to my new “gay friend,” Owen. Okay, he’s not my friend, but he’s the only one I’ve exchanged more than two sentences with. He’s perfect as backup in case anything gay happens.
Then came our first challenge. Climbing a cliff. Kill me now.
I’m not built for physical activity. I always had the perfect excuse in gym class—“doctor’s note,” “parents’ concern.” But here? No excuses. At least Owen helped me halfway up. Surprise! We had to jump off that cliff too. And build a jacuzzi. At least that part was promised in the brochure. But building it? Seriously? It’s not like I’m scared of heights, but damn. Jumping from that high? My whole body froze.
“—Pretty tall, huh? Hehe,” said a guy next to me. He was a bit shorter than me, with brown hair. And like Trent, he was drooling over the goth girl. What was his name again? I think someone called him “Codester.”
“Just a little,” I said sarcastically, which made him chuckle nervously.
He looked more nervous than me, so I guess my little joke helped.
Technically, we weren’t forced to jump… well, kind of. If you didn’t, you had to wear a chicken hat and drag your team down. No way was I putting that on. Guess I’d jump.
“Come on, man,” I said, because I couldn’t remember his name and I felt a little bad for him. “Don’t be a chicken. That wouldn’t look too attractive.” I tilted my head toward the goth girl—Miss “mysterious face.”
Ugh.
At least that motivated him. His chest puffed out with confidence. I’ll take the credit.
Meanwhile, the queen bee was already fighting with Leshawna—the only name I actually remembered, since she’d been yelling it since she arrived. Honestly, it was the best part of the day. Watching two girls fight over nothing? Always entertaining. At school, those catfights are the highlight of my week. Way better than actual physical fights. Couldn’t hide my smile.
Codester came closer to watch, looking more worried than me. And when Leshawna actually shoved the Asian girl, I couldn’t help laughing. I didn’t expect that. Maybe this team would be interesting. If we were gonna get fights like this? Perfect.
Anyway, we finished the challenge and even won. As long as the team’s functional and full of drama, I’m good.
The other team, though, had to vote someone off. From what I saw at dinner, it was probably gonna be that homeschool kid spouting sexist crap. And since I’m a nosy bastard, of course I got involved.
Weirdly enough, so did Codester. That’s when I learned his real name: Cody. Turns out he’s a gossip too. Probably the only one from my team who joined me in eavesdropping.
Later, some went to the jacuzzi. I let my inner gay out a little and danced with Leshawna. After a while, I grabbed one of my books—I brought a whole pile, because I knew I’d need entertainment. Inside the cabin, I noticed a couple of guys hanging out. Honestly, they were the most attractive ones. But I wasn’t gonna stay. I wanted to be alone. So I wandered around, looking for a quiet spot. Everyone else was scattered around, refusing to sleep. Or maybe they were still recording.
I had to remind myself—this is a reality show. The last thing I should do is embarrass myself. But damn, almost every place was taken.
That’s when I saw Cody trying to talk to the goth girl—Gwen. I’d only known Cody a day, and he was already pretending to be someone else around Gwen. His attempts were so forced. He was trying to act like Trent. Even lowering his voice to sound more “manly.” It was so pathetic I had to laugh to myself.
Poor guy. At least now there’s someone else to laugh at. Better him than me.
I walked past them and sat at the dock. Finally, no one around. Pulled out my book. But of course, my peace didn’t last. I heard footsteps approaching. I sighed loudly, cursing under my breath.
Does no one here like being alone?
“—Hey!”
Ugh. That voice…
“Hi,” I said without looking at Cody, keeping my eyes on the book.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
“Trying to read.”
“Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”
“Yes. A little.”
“Sheesh,” he muttered. Guess that stung. Still didn’t get the hint, though—he sat down beside me.
“Who do you think is getting voted out?”
“The homeschool kid. Obviously.” I sighed.
“Yeah. I think Ezekiel’s the one they booted.”
How did he already learn their names? I was barely learning my own team’s.
Not that I couldn’t memorize them—I am the smartest one here—it’s just not worth my interest. But I couldn’t help asking:
“You already know the other team’s names?”
“You don’t?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not really. I’m still working on ours.”
“Dude, if we want to fit in here, we need to know people’s names. That way, we gain their trust and can start building a strategy, and—”
We.
Excuse me? Who’s “we”? He thinks I’m some kind of loser like him?
He must think I’m a social outcast too. Probably why he’s not even trying to act “cool” with me.
Does he expect me to do that? Sure, my three layers of clothing don’t scream “popular guy,” but still—that was insulting. Offensively funny.
I laughed dryly.
“Noah? Did I lose you?”
“‘We’?” I scoffed. “Buddy, I think we’re not on the same page.” My laugh was sharp, covering my annoyance.
“Huh?”
“I don’t care about fitting in with these people.”
“Why not?” he asked, surprised. “Noah, if we get along with them, they’ll trust us more. And we won’t risk being voted off so soon.”
Okay. He had a point. But no way was I giving him that satisfaction.
“Oh yeah? And how’s that working for you?” I tilted my head toward Gwen and Trent. Gwen was smiling at him, probably swooning over whatever sweet nothings he was whispering.
Cody looked over, deflated. But then he forced a smile.
“Hey, it’s only the first day. She’s still getting to know people. I think you should open up more too—like Gwen.”
I just nodded. After that, we talked a bit more until Cody started yawning. He was tired, and it rubbed off on me. We headed back to the cabin together. For some reason, he picked the bunk above mine. He fell asleep instantly, like the rest of the campers.
I stayed awake, thinking about what he said.
That idiot, the one who thinks I’m a social outcast like him, actually got me thinking.
But more than that—why did he attach himself to me so quickly? Maybe he sees me as someone like him. Maybe it makes him feel comfortable.
It’s only been one day, and I feel like I already figured him out. He’s an open book. Honestly, everyone here is. They’re easy to read.
Anyway…
Maybe I should try to adapt. If I want to win this.