Archive of Our Own

It’s been a week since filming for the Ridonculous Race ended, and while Noah knows the conversation he and Emma have planned is necessary, he’s dreading it. Because the only thing worse than lying to Owen is letting Owen know he’s been manipulating him this whole time. 

Noah vaguely wonders if they’ll still be able to do reality television together after this.

Next to him, Emma perches on the bed, clasping her hands tightly. “Guys… we have a bit of a confession to make.”

“Uh oh,” Kitty says, stretching out on the carpet of Emma’s dorm room. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually getting married this soon. That’d be kinda creepy, at this stage. Definitely unhealthy.”

“We’re not getting married!” Emma snaps.

Noah picks at the bedspread. “Kind of the opposite, actually.”

Owen, who had been spinning around in Emma’s desk chair, slams his foot down, bringing him to a halt. “You’re breaking up?!?”

“Calm down, big guy,” Noah says. He glances over at Emma, who gives him a look back. He sighs. “It’s more like… we were never together in the first place?”

Kitty and Owen stare at him with blank faces.

Owen blinks. “Uhh…”

“…What?” Kitty finishes. She shakes her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. What are you guys talking about? Is this a prank?”

“It’s not,” Emma confirms. “Our whole relationship was faked. From the beginning.”

Owen looks at her like she’s speaking gibberish. “I don’t… Wh—how? Because Noah was acting all goofy and then he broke and… what?”

“It was a strategy,” Noah says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really wanted to win, and straight couples tend to get pretty far on shows. So I figured I’d pretend to have a crush on a girl, explain my plan to her, and hope she’d go along with it.”

A look of understanding—and horror—dawns on Kitty’s face. “Wait, but—what about when you were nervous about doing air guitar in front of Emma?”

“That… wasn’t why I was nervous,” Noah grimaces. “Turns out, my stage fright is a lot worse than I thought.”

Kitty narrows her eyes. “Is that why Emma sabotaged Mickey instead of encouraging you?”

“I didn’t really know what else to do,” Emma admits, folding her arms. “Noah was freaking out, I thought the strategy had failed but I didn’t want him to leave. We may not be dating, but we are friends.”

“You guys are breaking my brain!” Owen cries, throwing his hands up. “What about the wanting to kiss thing, what about the breakup, what about the actual kiss?”

“Ew,” Noah shudders at the memory. “That was—”

“—a lot of improv,” Emma groans. “We figured that couples generally establish they want to kiss at a certain point, which, gross, but also—”

“—money,” Noah finishes. “The problem is, after they kiss, one of them tends to get eliminated. So we did the whole breakup thing to postpone the kiss, you know, stay longer on the show.”

Emma jabs a finger at Noah. “Now, I was fine to let this guy keep going in the race, because I knew winning meant a lot to him.”

“But then I found out somebody had to pay for law school.” Noah points back at her. “So I tried to throw the race by ‘breaking’—”

Owen falls off the chair. “That was on purpose?!?”

“And the rest of the race was sort of a competition to see who could let the other person keep going,” Emma explains, “because we had, unfortunately, become friends.”

Kitty, now standing, folds her arms. “And when you guys actually kissed? What was happening there?”

Emma and Noah glance at each other.

“Like I said, a lot of improv.”

“I’d just been buried by carpets—”

“—I was genuinely worried he was crushed—”

“—and it sort of ruined the strategy—”

“Are you kidding me?” Owen shrieks, jumping to his feet. “I was so happy for you guys! And you were just lying to us this whole time! So not cool!”

“Yeah!” Kitty snaps. “You could’ve at least told us!”

Emma shakes her head. “Kit, I love you, but you’re a terrible actor. Look, I’m sorry, but your natural reactions were exactly what we needed.”

“Owen…” Noah goes to say, but his friend sighs.

“Let me guess, you didn’t tell me because I’m really bad at keeping secrets and have ruined three surprise parties already?”

“…Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, I’m still mad!”

Kitty stomps her foot. “Me too!”

Noah can’t look at either of them, and from the way Emma’s head hangs, he’s guessing she feels the same way.

“How about this?” Emma offers. “Will you forgive us if you, I don’t know, give us some sort of dating punishment?”

Owen raises an eyebrow. “Dating… punishment?”

“I’m interested,” Kitty rubs her hands together. Noah doesn’t like her evil grin, or the gleam in her eyes that’s slowly growing in Owen’s as well. But he hates Owen’s angry-disappointment face even more.

Kitty drags Owen into the hall, pointedly calling over her shoulder about strategizing. The door slams shut.

“Well, that went great,” Emma says, flopping back on her bed.

“Perfectly,” Noah agrees. They’re being sarcastic, per usual. “Did you have to give them permission for whatever horrible idea they’re concocting out there?”

Emma kicks at his leg lightly. “Hey, we did lie to them. Better to take our just deserts and let them get it out of their systems. I’m surprised Kitty didn’t slap me.”

“Ugh, you’re right.”

“Besides, whatever they have planned for me, it’s not gonna change my nonexistent love life. I’m over that stuff. Thanks, Jake.”

“Mm. I’m with you there… except for the Jake part.”

Emma props herself up, looking at Noah curiously. “You know, I never did ask while we were doing the show, but have you actually dated anyone before?”

“Ah,” Noah is uncomfortably aware of how she’s two years older than him. “No.”

“Oh, okay— wait, please don’t tell me our kiss was your first—”

Noah’s face is burning. “Yep.”

“I am so sorry.”

Noah shrugs, still flushed. “Hey, with the strategy, it was kind of inevitable.”

“I guess… At least it’s a funny story.”

“True.”

“You are? You will?!?” they hear Owen shout from behind the door. Kitty’s peals of laughter accompany his next exclamation of, “That’s perfect!”

Noah groans, slumping over. “This cannot be good.”

His sentiment is only increased when, five minutes later, Owen and Kitty burst into the room, giggling maniacally. 

“Okay, okay,” Kitty grins evilly. “We’ve come up with our dating punishments. The first, for my sister who hates romance—”

“Just get it over with, Kit.”

“We’re setting you up on a year of blind dates!” Owen blurts out. “Oops, sorry.”

And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell him about the fake relationship, Noah thinks to himself.

Emma’s eye twitches. “You’re what?"

“It’s one blind date a month, for a year,” Kitty explains. “That way it doesn’t interfere with your studies, but enough to really be a punishment. I’ll be choosing your dates.”

“You know what?” Emma sighs. “I’m actually impressed. I mean, I’m going to hate it, but it’s a smart plan. Good thinking, Kit.”

“Thank you!” Kitty claps her hands together. “As for Noah…”

Owen hardly looks like he can contain himself. “You know how they asked us to be on a second season of the Ridonculous Race?”

“Yes…?” Noah says, having no idea where this is going. They had gotten a call from Don something about them being fan favorites and the first season being a hit. It wasn’t due to start filming for a few weeks. 

“Well, I’m gonna be partners with Kitty this time,” Owen says, and Noah’s face droops in disappointment. He’d actually been looking forward to racing with Owen. “And your partner is gonna be… someone else they’ve asked to be on the show.”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Someone else?”

Owen giggles. “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna get far with them on your team. If you can convince them to race with you.”

“What? Who?”

“It’s a surprise,” Kitty says. “You’re meeting with them tomorrow—our own version of a blind date.”

Noah shakes his head. “Let me get this straight—”

Owen and Kitty burst out laughing at that.

“Well, now you know they’re setting you up with a guy,” Emma points out.

Noah purses his lips. He feels like he’s back in that London tower, staring at a riddle that he knows he should be able to solve, because he’s smart. The answer is right under his nose, and he’s just not seeing it.

Owen completes the picture by patting Noah on the shoulder and saying, “Trust me, buddy, you’ll be thanking me some day. As long as you don’t let this opportunity slip away.”

Owen giggles again, and Noah groans. He hates not getting it.

As much as he’s tempted to scour the cafe for potential racing partners, Noah shoves his face in a book instead. He has a sneaking suspicion that Kitty and Owen are watching him somehow. He doesn’t know where they would be hiding, as the cafe is pretty small, but still. Those two are sneakier than he gave them credit for. And while he did agree to this really weird punishment, he refuses to give them the satisfaction of him looking anything other than disinterested, because he’s a being run mostly on spite. 

That doesn’t mean he’s paying attention to his book, because the minute he hears footsteps nearing him, he glances up. His bored face quickly melts into one of shock and horror as his approacher slides into the seat across from him.

“Long time, no see,” Alejandro Burromuerto smiles snakily at him. “I take it you weren’t expecting me?”

Since when is Owen this crafty?! Noah wants to scream, but sets down his book. “Yeah, uh. I wasn’t really told who I’d be meeting with. This was all Owen’s idea, I can assure you.”

Alejandro’s eyebrow quirks at this. Though he hasn’t seen the guy in nearly three years, Noah can somehow still read him better than most people. Alejandro is genuinely curious as to what got him into this situation.

“So, are you still wanting to team up with me?” Alejandro asks, and Noah almost blurts out, “No way, José!” before he pauses. 

Alejandro is probably one of the most capable teammates he’s ever had on reality TV. And Noah did genuinely like him, even if he didn’t trust him due to his more slippery qualities. If he’s not racing with Owen, then he’s racing purely to win. And he likes his odds with Alejandro on his side.

“I am,” Noah decides, leaning back in his seat. “Are you in?”

Alejandro chuckles, but there’s something off about it. “Not yet. What exactly makes you want to work with an eel?”

“Oh, come on,” Noah complains, “that’s just fishing for compliments.”

Alejandro snorts at the pun. “Fair enough. I suppose the question I should be asking is— why should I want to work with you?”

“Because you’re not the only one who can be slippery when he wants to,” Noah says, smirking.

Alejandro cocks his head to the side. “Explain.”

And so Noah does. He details his meticulous watchings of past reality shows, how he’d noted couples always seem to make it further. How he’d chosen Emma due to her disinterest in relationships to prolong their getting together, and her competitive drive to take them even farther. How they worked together to get first and second in several challenges, utilized tropes, and improvised when things got crazy. 

“Emma and Kitty ended up getting fourth, and Owen and I got eighth, but only because I threw the game so the girls could get farther. While you had some people fooled for a good part of World Tour, Emma and I had everyone on the show convinced we were in love. I’m talking camera operators, the host, even our own teammates. Actually, as of now, Kitty and Owen—and you—are the only people who know it was faked, and that’s only because we told them.” Noah folds his arms. “That a good enough reason for you?”

Alejandro’s eyes, which had been growing wider and wider as Noah spoke, looked like they were going to bug out of his head. “I’m impressed. Using the staging against you… if only  I’d considered that in All-Stars…” He trails off, and Noah is left regretting not watching Total Drama’s fifth season. 

“How does the show work?” Alejandro asks. Noah launches into a basic explanation, but Alejandro cuts him off. “No, not the format, I’ve already heard about that. I mean the competitors—who got how far, and why? If we are to team up, we should use our dynamic to its fullest advantage.”

Noah nods. “Well, before you suggest it, we can’t be the bad guys.”

“I’ve had enough of villains, believe me.”

“The Surfer Dudes and the Police Cadets made it to the finale,” Noah recalls. Alejandro’s eyebrows raise at the titles, but he remains quiet. “The only reason the Surfer Dudes got there is because another team got put out of commission via injury, and—”

Alejandro winces. “Injury? How bad?”

“Cliff fall from an ostrich,” Noah says, which doesn’t make much sense without context, but he’s too busy wondering why Alejandro cares. “They were allowed to leave and bring in a previously eliminated team, so the Surfers got to come back in the race. They were eliminated originally for being too nice. They didn’t win the million.”

“Good. I get the feeling that neither of us would particularly enjoy filling that role.”

Noah nods. “Obviously. Then you have the Police Cadets, who weren’t exactly good cop, bad cop, more like… aggressive cop, sensible cop. From what I remember, they were always somewhat friendly, but they had trouble working together, and had to figure that out. They also might’ve been lesbians. I could never tell.”

Alejandro strokes his chin. “Civil, but not always gelling well together… I think that’s our best bet.”

“I’m with you there,” Noah says. “I don’t want to play the lazy card, because as much as I hate it, I will put in effort for money. But maybe you can be annoyed by my sarcasm?”

“That won’t be too hard. Won’t be too hard for you to be irritated by my flirting with competitors either.” Alejandro smiles slyly at him, and Noah suddenly realizes that this might actually be fun. “I think we might actually make a good team.”

Noah perks up at that. “So, you’re in?”

“On one condition,” Alejandro says. “You will never, ever call me Al.”

“Deal. As long as you aren’t horrible to Owen.”

Alejandro frowns. “He’s competing?”

“With Kitty.” At Alejandro’s confused look, Noah adds, “Emma’s—fake girlfriend’s—little sister. They get along surprisingly well.”

“Well, if you won’t throw the game for them, I suppose I can rein myself in,” Alejandro  says. He sticks a hand out from across the table. “Partners?”

“Partners.” Noah shakes it. “Hey, we need a team name.”

“How about The Frenemies?”

“Perfect.”

After exchanging phone numbers and co-composing a quick email to Don—no backing out now—Noah parts ways with Alejandro. He slides into his minivan, which is the best thing he’s ever won on a reality show, and shrieks when Owen and Kitty pop up from the backseat.

“How’d it go?” Owen asks, ignoring Noah’s exclamations. How the big guy managed to escape detection, Noah has no idea, but he’s too busy catching his breath to wonder.

Kitty steps over the center console and slides into the passenger seat. “Come on, we want to hear!”

“You people are insane,” Noah grumbles, something he says to Izzy and Eva on a weekly basis. “How did you even get in here?”

“I have a spare key,” Owen reminds him. Noah is slightly regretting that past decision.

Kitty shoves Noah’s shoulder lightly. “What happened?”

“Well, we’re officially racing together as The Frenemies,” Noah announces. “And I have no idea why you thought this would be some kind of romantic punishment.”

Owen snickers. “Because you’ve always had a crush on Al, silly.”

“Wh—I do not!” Noah protests. “You thought I had a crush on DJ! And Cody, of all people.”

“You kissed Cody’s ear.”

“I was asleep!”

“You told me you thought DJ had nice legs!”

“That didn’t mean I liked him!”

Owen shakes his head. “Okay, fine. But you did have a crush on Al.”

“I did not.” Noah insists, ears burning.

Owen gives him an unimpressed look. “Uh huh. I saw the way you looked at him back on the plane. I know you liked being his little porpoise.”

“Ughhh.” Noah slides down in his seat as Kitty laughs her ass off. The one real crush he’d thought he’d hidden, and of course Owen knew all about it. Whatever. It’s not like Noah liked him after realizing how evil Alejandro’s true intentions were. He definitely doesn’t still have a bit of a lingering crush on him, no matter how good he had looked in the cafe. His hair was long and silky, settling lightly on his shoulders, he was just as muscular as ever, and his cheekbones—

“You’re thinking about how hot he is, aren’t you?” Owen asks cheekily, and Noah twists around to glare at him. “Come on, you lied to me about dating Emma, I’m allowed to tease!”

“Fine,” Noah conceded. “Let it be known that I hate how you’re always smarter than I give you credit for.”

“I can live with that,” Owen beams at him. 

Kitty squeals. “It’s gonna be so fun racing together again!”

“We’re gonna destroy you,” Noah says. “Hey, is Emma gonna do the race, or…?”

“She was originally gonna just focus on law school, but Don set her up with some other aspiring lawyer, so she’s in it to win it.”

Noah turns to Owen. “Courtney?”

“Courtney.” 

“Wonderful,” Noah drawls. “Here’s hoping the rest of the love triangle doesn’t tag along.”

Owen taps his chin. “I don’t know what Duncan’s up to, but I read in Blaineley’s gossip magazine that Courtney and Gwen are actually dating.”

“Mmf—!” Noah can’t help but break down laughing at that. “I don’t know what’s funnier, that they’d print that, or that you’d believe it!”

“Who’s Courtney? Should I be worried for Emma?”

Noah pats Kitty’s shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I have a feeling they’ll get along better than a PB&J and a side of mac and cheese, with hot chocolate and marshmallows for dessert.”

“Stop trying to make me hungry,” Owen complains.

“You’re always hungry.”

In the weeks leading up to the new season, Noah doesn’t see Alejandro, but they do exchange plenty of texts about their strategy.

[Alejandro:] While I do think it’s necessary to flirt with competitors, in order to both play on the frenemies trope and endear ourselves to them, I’m not sure it would be wise to form any alliances.

[Noah:] whatever, we can play it by ear, if we do i think it should be with kitty&owen or maybe emma&courtney

[Alejandro:] Courtney will be competing as well? With your fake girlfriend?

[Noah:] ye

[Alejandro:] Interesting.

[Alejandro:] How are you two going to handle the fake relationship? For the cameras, I mean.

[Alejandro:] decided to say we broke up bc im gay which is technically true but its also part of why the relationship was fake in the first place so

[Alejandro:] Understood. Are you sure that’s wise, considering how you previously pretended to be straight in order to gain audience favor?

[Alejandro:] sierras been texting me nonstop ever since the first rr season aired ab how all the fans are upset bc they thought i was gay so i think itll actually work in my favor

[Noah:] no fucking clue how she got my number

[Alejandro:] Beside the fact that she’s Sierra?

[Noah:] true

[Alejandro:] I know she comes across as even worse than before in All Stars, but she really has been doing better. That season was horribly scripted, nothing was as it seemed.

[Noah:] never watched it

[Alejandro:] I would highly recommend you DON’T.

[Alejandro:] It was absolute garbage.

[Alejandro:] When I say “scripted”, I mean it literally. Chris wrote a whole script for us.

[Noah:] ok now im even more intrigued

[Noah:] but considering its chris i will continue to stay away

[Alejandro:] Good. I’d say prison made that man absolutely insane, but he was always utterly demented.

[Noah:] prison?

[Alejandro:] I believe it had something to do with dumping toxic waste? I was rather distracted that year.

[Alejandro:] Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Do you know of any other teams that will be competing?

[Noah:] reached out to some ppl, izzy&eva will be a team which will be hilarious or terrifying

[Noah:] probably both

[Alejandro:] Who’s Eva?

[Noah:] shes like tyler if tyler was actually good at sports and had anger issues

[Alejandro:] Ah. Do you think they’ll get far?

[Noah:] no clue

[Noah:] team escope is unpredictable af

[Noah:] throwing fish guts at pretty boys since 2007

[Alejandro:] …Is that a threat?

[Noah:] only if youre the anti me

[Noah:] curse you justin

[Alejandro:] I feel like this is raising more questions than it’s answering.

[Noah:] just dont flirt with either of them and you’ll be fine

[Noah:] maybe

Noah, Owen, and the sisters end up taking a train to Vancouver, where the race will begin. They meet up with Alejandro, Courtney, and a production crew in a parking lot, as Don wants each team to arrive on their own bus. Something about cameras and drama. Alejandro is quietly reluctant to part with his luggage, but does so without complaint when Kitty reassures him that the crew takes good care of it.

“Did he really have eighteen buses chartered just for our entrances?” Noah asks dryly, as Emma and Courtney are driven away. “Seems a bit excessive.”

“Ten buses, actually. We’re having less teams this year.” As Owen and Kitty depart, the production manager turns to Noah and Alejandro. “Same number of episodes, just less eliminations. We’ve been consulting that one super fan—Sierra?—for the season, she kept talking about it being hard to get attached to all the teams. Decided to go with her judgement, considering she pitched the whole concept of the Ridonculous Race to us, and that went well.”

Noah doesn’t have time to process the fact that Sierra, of all people, came up with the show, before the manager is ushering them toward their bus. “You two will be the fourth team to arrive, The Girlfriends got there first.”

“Who are The Girlfriends?” Alejandro asks.

“Izzy and Eva. Don wanted some familiar yet exciting faces to start us off.” Okay, Noah really has to talk to the two about how that happened. Eva’s been pining for ages, something he dearly loves teasing her about, but he thought he’d at least get a text when she finally asked Izzy out. Noah and Alejandro sit in the first row of the empty bus, as instructed. Noah frowns as the manager tells them to switch sides. He doesn’t particularly care about being more visible to the camera—he wants the window seat.

A cameraman takes the seat opposite them and begins filming. The manager hurries outside, and the bus takes off.

Noah raises an eyebrow at the cameraman. “You need a confessional from us, or…?”

“Just footage for the introductions,” the man says. “Pretend I’m not here.”

Noah faces forward, and after a few minutes, the man lowers his camera. “Don should be happy with that.”

“That reminds me,” Alejandro turns to Noah, “I never asked you what this Don was like.”

“Sooo much better than Chris, it’s insane,” Noah drawls. “The man gives us coats and stuff for cold challenges. It’s incredible.”

“Really?”

Noah chuckles at Alejandro’s incredulous expression. “According to Emma, he actually pulled out a rulebook once.”

“¡No me digas!— there are actual rules?”

The cameraman shakes his head. “I forgot you poor kids have mostly worked with Chris. That guy’s the absolute scum of hosting in the industry. I mean, he was infamous before, but he got blacklisted from just about every studio after the interns came forward about the robot suit and the self destructing—hold on.”

While the man talks into his earpiece, Noah turns to Alejandro. He’s gone surprisingly still. “Do you know what that was about?”

“I have no idea,” Alejandro says tightly.

Noah knows he’s lying.

They arrive on a blocked off street and make their way toward The Lawyers (Emma and Courtney technically haven’t passed the bar yet, but despite its name, reality TV isn’t exactly realistic), The Optimists (Owen and Kitty had complained about not being able to find a better name, but Noah thought it suited them fine), and The Girlfriends (Eva and Izzy would have to catch him up on how they got together immediately). The eight of them are instructed to stand and wait quietly until the other twelve teams arrive.

“Pay attention,” Alejandro murmurs close enough to Noah’s ear to send shivers down his spine. “We need to get a good read on them.”

“I know that,” Noah snaps back quietly. It’s more out of frustration for whatever Alejandro’s doing to his stomach.

The Surfer Dudes arrive next, bouncing up to the group and giving fist bumps and hugs all around. 

“Noah! Good to see you, my man!” Geoff bounces over and reaches out for a fist bump, but freezes when he sees Alejandro. “Whoa. What are you doing here?”

“Just here to race with Noah, mi amigo. Surely you can let old bygones be bygones?”

Geoff scowls uncertainly at him. “Okay, well… If I see you flirting with any taken ladies, we’re gonna have an issue, dude!”

“Oh, if you’re jealous, all you have to do is say so,” Alejandro winks at him. “I have plenty of attention for you as well.”

Noah’s jaw drops. Since when does Alejandro flirt with boys?

Geoff just blinks, stammers for a moment, and backs away, loudly whispering to Brody, “Dude, I totally get why Bridgette kissed that guy. That was like magic or something wild!”

“Duuuuuude,” Noah hears Brody respond, before they’re out of earshot. He turns to Alejandro. “What was that about?”

His tone is harsher than he intends, but Alejandro shoots him a charming smile nonetheless. “Come now, Noah, if you’re jealous—”

“Oh, shut up,” Noah snaps.

When the camera crew filming them turns to The Goths, who are back and edgy as ever, Alejandro leans in and murmurs, “That was good for the ‘annoyed at my flirting’ strategy, keep it up.”

Noah nods. In all honestly, he’d completely forgotten about that bit until Alejandro reminded him.

“Compliment their clothes,” Noah whispers when The Fashion Bloggers enter. Tom and Jen are more than happy to launch into detailed explanations of each garments’ origins. Noah tunes them out as much as possible, but Alejandro actually seems to be enjoying himself. 

At one point, he even slings an arm around Noah and smiles at The Fashion Bloggers conspiratorially. “Maybe you can convince Noah here to dress decently, for once in his life.”

“Oh, I have so many nerd chic ideas for you,” Jen begins, as Noah glares at Alejandro. The bastard just wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. Noah shoves his arm off.

“—total power couple move with the reds,” Noah hears Jen say, before Tom starts squealing, and Jen joins in, and then they’re being shooed away by a camerawoman. She’s trying to get a good angle of the next team, which appears to be Gwen and who Noah assumes is the little brother she’s mentioned a few times.

“Did not expect to see you back here,” she says to Alejandro when she walks past. “After last time—”

“I could say the same to you,” Alejandro interrupts quickly. “And bringing your little brother on with you—you must really hate him.”

Noah wants to snap that this is the opposite of the flirting tactic, but Gwen’s brother just laughs. “Hey, I dared her to audition for the island show, she dared me to do this race thing with her. Seemed fair enough.”

“I thought you’d be racing with Owen,” Gwen nods at Noah. “How did you two…?”

“Met by chance in a cafe and found out we were both doing the show. Owen wanted to mix it up, so we decided to partner up.” Noah’s not exactly lying, but he’s definitely not about to bust out the obfuscating truth.

“I assume your team is called The Siblings,” Alejandro says, but Gwen shakes her head.

“Nah, that name was taken, so we opted for The Troublemakers. It was Flynn’s idea.”

“Gwen!” Courtney calls, waving, and Gwen is shooting a hasty goodbye to The Frenemies before dragging Flynn over to her friend and/or sworn enemy. Noah still doesn’t know.

“That’s odd,” Alejandro says, and Noah looks up to see The Ice Dancers doing tricks on the street. “What should we—”

“Just stay away from them. They’re competitive, obsessive, and just plain weird. Don’t make us a target.”

Alejandro nods, and begins counting the teams on the curb. “Dos, cuartro, seis, ocho… I think we’re missing a team. It must be the other pair of siblings.”

The final bus screeches to a halt, and off steps the last team. They look to be in their early twenties, both Latine, with similar enough features that Noah wouldn’t need a preface to know that they’re siblings. The woman is tall and lean, with long, glossy black hair, and dressed sharply in yellow, whereas the man has lighter brown hair and a blue shirt. He looks like Alejandro from another dimension.

Noah turns to his teammate to make that comment, but stops at the look of horror spreading across Alejandro’s face. Suddenly, he understands.

“They’re your siblings?!”

Alejandro looks like he’s about to fall over. “I didn’t know they would be here—I haven’t spoken to them in six months! Why are they—no, no, no…”

The woman is scanning the other teams, her look one of shock when she lands upon Alejandro. She quickly morphs it into something calmer, and turns to whisper to her brother. They’re quickly shooed into the crowd, in the opposite direction of Alejandro, who’s still muttering incomprehensibly to himself.

“Look,” Noah reaches out and steadies one of Alejandro’s shaking hands. “I don’t really know what’s going on, but Don is about to tell us where to go. The race is starting, and I need your game face on.”

Alejandro squeezes Noah’s hand and takes a deep breath. “You’re right. We can’t get off to a bad start or José and Inés—” he cuts himself off. “Not thinking about them. Let’s do this.”

Don gives a brief explanation of how the teams will race to the Capilano River, where they will receive their first Travel Tip, and then they’re off. To his surprise, Noah is actually able to keep up with Alejandro, who let go of his hand when they began running. It must be due to how often he had to run on his first racing season. Whatever the case, they’re solidly in the front-middle of the pack.

“There it is!” Noah cries, darting past Gwen and Flynn, and slapping his hand on the big red button. He snatches up the tip and leads Alejandro away from the increasingly crowded Don Box as he reads. “It’s an Either/Or. Teams can either kayak down the river and run to Grouse Mountain, or take taxis and walk across the suspension bridge—we’re doing the bridge. Come on!”

Alejandro follows him to the curb as Noah hails a taxi, another skill the race has improved. “Wait, shouldn’t we talk about—”

“No time!” Noah yanks Alejandro into the cab after him, and calls, “Capilano Suspension Bridge!”

They’re already speeding through the streets North Vancouver when Alejandro notices the cameraman in the passenger seat. “Are these taxis specifically for the show?”

“Don rents a company for each location,” the man says. “But don’t talk to me. Talk to each other.”

Alejandro nods and turns to Noah, crossing his arms. “Are you going to explain why you made the executive decision? We are a team, you know.”

“I know. You’re not exactly forgettable,” Noah says. He’s getting a weird read off of Alejandro, who he thought was playing up the offense for the camera. Something genuine flashes across his teammate’s face when Noah responds, though, and it’s throwing Noah off. Whatever. “Look, a big part of this race is stamina. We kayak across a river, we lose energy we might need to beat another team to the finish line. Both of us have spent enough time in Chris’ flying deathtrap that a suspension bridge is nothing in comparison. Kayaking is for muscular people or anyone who has a major fear of heights, and while you fall into the first category, I fit neither. Get it, now?”

“Absolutely,” Alejandro says. He smiles at Noah. “You keep surprising me, you know that?”

Noah doesn’t know how to respond.

They’re inching down the middle of the suspension bridge when Noah finally thinks to ask, “So what’s the deal with your siblings?”

“I’m not having this conversation now,” Alejandro says from in front of him, “not unless you want me toppling over the side.”

“Point taken, drama queen.”

Below them gushes the river, where faint cries of “Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!” can be heard. Emma and Courtney, Noah guesses, because while he could look down to confirm, he’s not making a rookie mistake.

“Hiii guys!” Kitty calls from the starting side of the bridge. “This is so cool!”

Noah glances over to see her tottering onto the planks of wood. Behind her, Owen nods. “A lot better than that skywalk!”

And because he’s so used to spending time around the guy, Noah knows that Owen’s weight will turn his and Alejandro’s mostly flat walk into an uphill trudge. Noah braces himself, ready for the bridge to slant, but Alejandro doesn’t.

“Alejandro—” Noah begins to call, and the man turns around, but Owen is stepping on before Noah can finish his warning. Alejandro yelps, and topples directly into Noah, pinning him to the floor.

“Oof!” Noah huffs, knocking against the wood. Thankfully, the chain link railing is secure on either side of him, so there’s no danger of rolling off the side. A rarity in Total Drama. Alejandro is pressed up against him, and while their situation is equal amounts awkward, painful, and terrifying, a little part of Noah’s brain is enjoying this way too much. Those thoughts go unnoticed when the bridge begins to sway.

“Sorry,” Alejandro mutters, extracting himself and shakily standing up. “You alright?”

Noah nods, and uses the offered hand to pull himself up. “Trust me, doesn’t even make the top twenty worst experiences I’ve had on TV. We’re okay!” That last bit he calls to Owen and Kitty, who were voicing their concern from across the bridge.

Alejandro begins making his way to the end of the bridge. “That big oaf…”

“You said you wouldn’t be mean to him,” Noah says.

“I’m not being mean to him. He can’t hear me.”

“Yeah, and I agreed not to call you Al, but there are a myriad of other names I could come up with.”

“Point taken, pesado.”

They finish crossing the bridge without further excitement, and run into The Goths when hailing a cab.

“Don’t bother,” Noah says, when Alejandro turns to them. “They’re pretty unresponsive. And hardcore. Not where you want to put in the effort of trying to make an alliance, as they’re loners, though they are a strong team.”

“Thanks,” Ennui says, “you’re not too bad yourself. Air guitar, and all.”

It’s probably the longest sentence Noah’s ever heard the guy say. He doesn’t know how to respond other than a hesitant, “Thanks?”

The arrival of two cabs effectively ends their conversation.

“Air guitar?” Alejandro asks as they drive to Grouse Mountain. 

Noah just sighs. “I hate Finland.”

From the expression on Alejandro’s face, this is just raising more questions.

They arrive at the same time as The Goths, who are polite enough to let them take the first gondola up the side of the mountain. As amazing of a view it is, Noah is already anxious to be on solid ground. 

“I’m glad Don didn’t make us hike up the mountain,” Noah says as they slowly rise. “A few of my sisters tried it a year ago, and it was completely exhausting. And they’re the athletic ones.”

“You have sisters?”

Oh, so you’re allowed to ask me about my family? Noah wants to say, but he bites it back. “Yeah, eight.”

“Eight?!” Alejandro blinks at him owlishly. “Ay Dios mío, I can’t imagine…”

Noah can’t help but chuckle at his expression. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m the youngest. Only boy. And the only one who does reality television instead of going to college on a sports scholarship, to Leah’s annoyance.”

“Leah?”

“Oldest sister. More like a second mom, to be honest. Phoebe and Ruth are old enough to be kinda distant, Sapphira, Claudia, and Drusilla are alright, but Mara and Tabitha are too close to my own age to be any fun.”

Alejandro just shakes his head. “That’s… a lot.” 

“Tell me about it.” Noah goes to lean against the gondola wall, but thinks better about it. “What’s your deal?”

Alejandro’s face goes stony. “I said—”

“You don’t want to talk about it, I know, but they’ll drag it out of you during the confessional. They’re different in this show than on Total Drama. You might as well just get it out when there’s not a chance other teams might overhear you.” The last part is total bull—the confessionals are filmed privately—but Noah’s sick of not knowing the dynamics at play. 

“Carlos is my oldest brother,” Alejandro says, crossing his arm. “He’s eleven years older, I was never really close to him. But Inés is one year older than me, and José is two…” He clenches his fist. “And they’re the worst, which is why I haven’t spoken to them in months. I don’t know why they’re here, but they won’t lose without a good fight, and an attempt to utterly humiliate me. I really didn’t want to ever see them again, but now…”

“We have to beat them.”

“¿Perdón?”

“Well, we obviously have to beat everyone, if we’re gunning for the million. But they seem to automatically be our antagonists. Last season, The Ice Dancers were our main villains, and they’re crazy enough to become this season’s as well, but…” Noah snaps his fingers. “Got it. We pit your siblings against The Ice Dancers, and rise through the ranks unnoticed while the two evils tear each other apart. Direct their fire elsewhere.”

Alejandro stares at him for a moment, before laughing quietly and shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were so cunning? We could’ve been amazing in the world tour!”

“You were too busy flirting with the enemy,” Noah grumbles, as their gondola screeches to a halt. “Come on!”

The next Travel Tip introduces them to their first Botch or Watch, where it’s quickly decided that Alejandro will be the one throwing axes at a wooden bear. Noah observes the  other teams—it’s the most he’s seen of them since the beginning of the race. 

Ennui hits the bear’s face on his first try. “Cool.”

“Let’s go,” Crimson says, trudging over to the zipline, where the next tip waits.

Courtney is an axe-throwing menace, but always a few inches off. Gwen shouts something to her—encouraging or taunting, Noah can’t make out—while Flynn takes shots of his own. Jacques does some kind of flip before nailing the target.

“Bravo, bravo!” Josee shouts. “Onward, to the gold!”

Alejandro pauses his throwing. “Good luck! I’m pretty sure I saw The Siblings already get their next tip, you should hurry if you want to beat them!”

“Nice one,” Noah says, as Josee screeches at Jacques. “Did you actually see them leave?”

Alejandro shakes his head, readying his next axe. “No, but knowing them, they’ve already taken first.” His voice is steely, but quickly brightens when he hits the bear right in the nose. “Got it—let’s go!”

The zipline screams as they race down in a tandem harness. Noah reaches out for a tip, but Alejandro’s longer arms get to it first.

As soon as they’ve landed and get unbuckled, Alejandro reads out the tip. “Race down the mountain to the Chill Zone—let’s go!”

Then they’re sprinting down the mountain, because there are at least three teams ahead of them, and Noah can hear Emma and Courtney several meters behind them. Alejandro yelps, tripping over a rock, and falls down the trail. Before Noah can call to him, he’s popped up, and running down the mountain—but on his hands.

“What the fuck?” Noah yells to him as he catches up. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“My legs get numb if I’m too high up! They’ve been falling asleep all day. This will be faster, trust me!”

Noah doesn’t have time to respond, because the Chill Zone is coming into sight, and he can hear Courtney and Emma shouting something behind him. Noah dives for the carpet, tackling Alejandro in the process, and the two tumble into the Chill Zone.

“Fifth place!” Don announces. “And right on their heels—or should I say, wrists—are The Lawyers in sixth!”

Courtney cheers as Emma helps Noah up. “You okay?”

“Not the first time we’ve crashed into each other today,” Noah says. 

Alejandro picks himself up. “You took me down with you, this time.”

“Off the carpet, kids, we’ve got four more teams headed this way,” Don says, and the group obliges, Courtney muttering about how none of them are under the age of nineteen and shouldn’t be called kids, thank you very much.

Noah glances at the high ranking teams. The Ice Dancers scowl, and The Siblings smirk, probably meaning that Alejandro’s prediction of José and Inés taking first was correct. The Goths stand expressionless as always, and next to them—

“Since when are you two dating?” Noah demands, marching over to The Girlfriends. He glares at Eva, though there’s nothing beyond mild annoyance behind it. “I’ve had to deal with your pining for Izzy for years, and then you never even tell me you two are together, what—”

Eva slaps a hand over his mouth. “We’re not dating!”

“What?” Noah says, peeling her hand off. “And, ow. But what?”

“We’re not dating,” Eva repeats. She sounds harsh, but Noah knows her well enough to recognize her tone as one of embarrassment. “It’s Girlfriends as in the platonic sense. Best Friends was taken last season, apparently.”

“It doesn’t have to be platonic,” Izzy says, propping up her elbow on Noah’s shoulder. 

Eva turns bright red. “Um, what?”

“I’ll let you two discuss that,” Noah says. He slips away to Emma, who’s intently watching the mountain.

“Looking for Kit,” she explains.

Noah pats her arm. “She’ll be fine. Might end up beating us to the million, eventually.”

Emma scoffs at that, and as much as Noah likes her, he hopes Kitty stays in the race long enough to outrank her. It’s younger sibling solidarity. And speaking of younger siblings…

Alejandro slides up next to Noah. “Do we just wait until the last teams arrive?”

“We don’t have to,” Noah says, as Owen and Kitty jog onto the Carpet of Completion. He gives them both a quick high five. “Anyone you care about at risk for getting eliminated?”

“No,” Alejandro immediately responds.

“Cool. I’ll talk to Don.”

Thirty seconds later, and Noah taps on Alejandro’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re good to go. Have to stop by the confessional trailer first, but then we’re free to crash at the hotel.”

“Hotel?” Alejandro asks, following him to the parking lot. “We get to stay at a hotel?”

“Yeah. It’s a far cry from economy class, that’s for sure. Oh, that’s another thing I guess you’re not used to—no military jets. Just normal planes.”

Alejandro looks like he’s just stepped into a warm bath. “I think I might actually cry.”

“I’d only roll my eyes a little bit if you did.” Noah steps up to the trailer, and as the recording light isn’t on, knocks. A camerawoman that Noah vaguely recognizes ushers them inside.

“Noah! Good to see you again. And you must be Alejandro—take a seat.” She nods at the stools in front of the Ridonculous Race’s typical map backdrop. The guys do as they’re told. “I gotta say, did not expect to get called out on this job so soon, but hey, fun times!”

Alejandro raises a hand. “I’m afraid I’m rather unused to these kinds of confessionals. How do they work?”

“The rest of the team has sent in prompts based on what they’ve seen of you two in the race so far, it’s your job to talk to the audience—not me, the audience—or discuss the topics amongst yourself. Sound good?”

 “Perfect,” Alejandro says. The camera operator flips through her clipboard.

“Let’s see, you’ve already talked about your siblings, we’ve gotten good Frenemies content already—oh! Noah, can you talk about your relationship with Emma? How’s that been going?”

“Emma and I aren’t dating,” Noah says, making eye contact with the camera. “She’s been too busy with law school to have a relationship, and as it turns out, I’m gay. Which the entire world seemed to figure out before me.” That last bit isn’t true, but he figures giving the fans an opportunity to pat themselves on the backs might help prolong his stay in the race. “We’re still good friends though.”

“And why are you racing with Alejandro instead of Owen?” The camera operator glances at her papers. “I’m getting some notes about a past rivalry…”

“I’ll admit, I definitely didn’t expect to be doing this race with Alejandro given our history,” Noah says.

Alejandro snorts. “Is that what you’d call ‘insulting your teammate who hadn’t done anything to you’?”

“You’re the reason I got forced out of a plane!”

“Because you called me an eel.”

“Well, you were playing everyone harder than a pianist doing their first concert at Juilliard, I think it was justified!”

Alejandro scoffs. “I wasn’t doing anything to you. Anyway, we ran into each other recently, and found out we were both doing the show. Noah was down a partner—”

“—Owen wanted to race with Kitty,” Noah explains.

“Right, and after a brief discussion, we figured we could work well together. Ah… well enough, I  should say.”

Noah rolls his eyes at that. He’s playing it up a bit, for the cameras, but they’re bouncing  off of one another easily enough for it to be almost natural. 

“Okay, that’s great,” the camera operator—Noah finally remembers that her name is Rosario—says. “I’ve just got… well, you already talked about your siblings earlier today, so I think we can lay off that. Stretch it out, keep the audience guessing. If you want to mention your experience on Total Drama All Stars—”

“I do not,” Alejandro snaps. It’s not the venomous sting that sometimes leaks into his words when his nice-guy facade is slipping. Alejandro’s voice is brittle, in a way Noah’s never heard before.

“What even happened in season five?” he finds himself blurting out. 

Alejandro’s scowl deepens, and he crosses his arms. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to,” Rosario says quietly. Noah doesn’t remember her looking this concerned during any of the Reality TV Pros’ confessionals. “One last thing—I know the fans are wondering about your relationship with Heather, if I could get a quick statement…”

“Heather and I broke up months ago. We still text, but that’s it.”

Rosario nods, and hits a button on the camera. “That’s all I need. Thanks, guys, you’re free to head out.”

Noah’s adrenaline from racing is beginning to wear off. Alejandro looks equally exhausted, so the cab ride to their hotel is blessedly quiet. They navigate from the lobby to their room quietly. Alejandro makes a pleased comment when he sees their suitcases at the foot of their beds. Noah is too zoned out to tell whether his teammate speaks in Spanish or English. He collapses onto a bed and groans.

“Well, we’ve made it through the first day,” Alejandro says. Noah can hear him sliding off his boots. “One down—how many episodes are there?”

Noah furrows his brow. “I think the production manager said the same as last season, so that’d be… twenty six?”

“Ah. We’d better get our rest for tomorrow, then.”

Noah hums in agreement. It’s too early to go to bed, so he reluctantly gets up and searches his suitcase for one of the books he packed. Alejandro says something about taking a bath and disappears into the bathroom. 

To stop his brain from wandering onto subjects of The Siblings, hand-walking, and whatever the hell happened in season five, Noah resolutely sticks his nose in his book. It’s  good enough to get him lost in a world of royalty and magic for the two hours Alejandro hogs the bathroom. His teammate finally emerges, steam seeping into the bedroom. Noah glances up and raises an eyebrow.

“I forgot my pajamas,” Alejandro says, clad in only a towel. He bends over to rummage through his suitcase. Noah tears his eyes back to his book. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Alejandro scantily clad before—the guy has a fondness for ripping off his shirt, and his speedo does not leave much to the imagination. But whatever intimacy comes from Alejandro sharing a room with him makes the whole deal too strange for Noah to think about, and instead he focuses on the pages in front of him.

A few minutes later, Alejandro comes out of the bathroom again, this time wearing a black tank top and silky red pajama pants. He sits on the edge of Noah’s bed and peers at his book. “What are you reading?”

Noah would normally just point at the title, or give a short, snappish response, but he’s too  tired to be aggravating. And besides, Alejandro sounds genuinely interested.

“The Mists of Avalon,” Noah says, setting the book aside. He’ll remember his page number. He always does. “It’s Arthurian legend told through the perspective of the female characters.”

Alejandro cocks his head to the side. His hair is in a low ponytail, with chunks escaped from his hair tie framing his face. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s really interesting. Definitely not a viewpoint most novels choose to explore, though it is long. And pretty depressing.”

Noah fights back a yawn, and Alejandro takes that as his cue to stand up and slip under to covers of his own bed. Noah sighs, very reluctantly sits up, and grabs pajamas to change into in the bathroom. He emerges in a blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants and climbs into bed. He should probably feel frumpy, compared to Alejandro’s elegance even in sleepwear, but he’s too cold to care. 

Noah’s about to turn off his bedside lamp when he asks, “Who else were you gonna race with?”

“Mmm?” Alejandro turns onto his chest to face him. It’s one of the only times Noah has seen his hair messed up. “What do you mean?”

“You had decided on doing this show before we met up, and you wanted convincing for us to be partners. Were you planning to race with someone else beforehand?”

“No,” Alejandro admits, shifting onto his back and gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully. Noah gets the sense that he’s trying to avoid eye contact. “I didn’t have anyone in mind. I don’t hate them, but I doubt I could spend as much time as I would have to with anyone from the cast without being driven up the wall. And I burned a lot of bridges after World Tour, anyway.”

Interesting. Noah twists onto his side to face Alejandro, and props his chin up on his hand. “Then why are you doing this with me?”

“You had a clever strategy.”

“If you wanted someone with strategy, you could’ve asked Courtney. Or Heather. Heck, even Duncan.”

“That’s true. But I don’t have to act as charming to balance your temperament out. It gets exhausting.”

“Fair enough,” Noah says. He’s too tired to parse the meaning of Alejandro’s statement, so he just flips the bedside lamp’s switch. The room plunges into darkness.

“Buenas noches.”

“Mmf. G’night.”