Chapter Text
All things considered, Gwen’s time on this island so far hasn't been… the absolute worst that it could've been.
Jumping into shark infested waters, staying awake for literal days on end, dodgeball, and now… a talent show.
Really?
Not that she was complaining. Quite the opposite in fact. Keep it up with these mellow challenges!
The only downside was that Heather had completely hijacked the whole thing by deciding who on their team got to perform, so Gwen couldn't even compete if she wanted to. But she didn't want to, and they were leading by eight points anyways, so hey, good job Heather. You did something right for once.
Sitting in the cruddy amphitheater seats watching Bridgette stagger off stage with DJ’s help after she threw up all over her own team (poor form Bridgette, poor form), Gwen found herself growing restless and a bit fidgety.
She'd left her diary back in the cabin, so she had nothing to occupy her hands with by doodling or writing. She would've fetched it if Heather and Lindsay hadn’t been so weird when she went to get it before promptly bailing.
Oh, Heather. Dear God, Heather.
Gwen didn't know what to make of her. Well, ok, that wasn't entirely true. Gwen had… thoughts about Heather. Conflicting, rambling, indecent, incoherent to anyone but the person who thought them thoughts. The kind of thoughts that weren’t to be shared out loud and were supposed to stay between a girl and her diary, thank you very much.
Either way, Heather’s act was next. Gwen’s choices were to either watch her do unnoteworthy ballet stuff or pick at the rotten wood seats that smelled of mold and mildew. Or do both. Or neither, and die of boredom. Such is the way of life.
Out of idleness waiting for the interns to finish cleaning up the vomit, Gwen's gaze wandered.
Sitting right next to Gwen were Izzy and Leshawna. Izzy was weird and… yeah, that's it, she's just a complete basket case. Leshawna, meanwhile, was the closest thing Gwen had to a friend here really. Sure, the Screaming Gophers respected her a great deal after the Awake-a-thon, but Gwen wasn't one to socialize. That and Leshawna was the kind of person who could befriend anybody. Well, almost anybody.
Behind them in the back row was Owen, Trent and Cody. Owen was a fun loving guy who could burp the alphabet. Pretty self-explanatory. Cody clearly had a thing for Gwen, a very UNWANTED and uncomfortable thing, while Trent… also seemed to be into her. Since day one. That or Gwen was a narcissist for thinking the song he performed before Bridgette went on was directed at herself.
Trent was cool. Gwen wasn’t into him, but he was cool.
After all the vomit had been cleaned up, Chris introduced Heather onto the stage. She took a seat on the stool, which isn't the kind of thing you do while doing ballet.
“Originally, I was going to dance for you. But instead, I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration.” As she spoke, Heather reached behind her back and displayed a book.
Several of the Gophers squinted at Heather and each other, not getting what she was doing other than it certainly not being ballet. Gwen’s eyes narrowed as well, before widening in realization. Oh no. “She wouldn't.”
Heather opened the book. Paper rustled as she quickly flipped through page after page before stopping on a section she must've settled on beforehand. She planned this. “Written by Gwen, performed by me, enjoy!”
Heather cleared her throat. “Ok, so I'm trying to ignore her, but she's just so hot-”
Several eyebrows went up just on that alone as Gwen immediately felt several more pairs of eyes on her.
“... She?” Cody muttered, more to himself but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.
“-If they custom ordered a girl to get in my brain and drive me crazy, it'd have to be McDiva. Sometimes I wonder what it’d feel like to run my fingers through that long, black hair of hers-”
Leshawna glanced back at her own hair before locking eyes with Gwen. She scooted a fair distance away from the goth. Gwen could feel everyone looking at her. She gripped her seat hard as her breathing intensified into deep, labored gasps of air.
“-She doesn't care what anyone says and she says whatever she wants. It's kind of annoying, but it also sends a shiver up my spine. She's so real for it. Also, I know it's a total cliché, but I love mean, tall… thin… girls.”
Heather seemed to be reading and comprehending that last sentence for the first time as she stumbled over herself, cogs turning in her brain. Her eyes trace over it once or twice more before she shuts the book definitively. She puts on a smile. “Thank you!”
Dead silence.
Everyone was staring at Gwen. The Killer Bass in the pavilions, her own team, even the Bass waiting behind the stage curtains scrambling to get their third act together peeked their heads out to see what was happening.
“Wow. Didn’t expect that.” Bridgette said from behind the curtain, sounding surprised but not disgusted by the reveal.
Courtney, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. “Oh please, just look at her. Of course she’s gay.” She said, rolling her eyes.
Some of the contestants stared blankly at Gwen. Others just seemed curious or confused about the whole ordeal. Yet more looked disgusted by what they’d heard and by Gwen’s mere existence. Trent was certainly among some of the latter.
It wasn't just her castmates. This was all being recorded. People, potentially millions of them from all around the globe, were going to see this. They were all going to know.
Gwen could feel her breathing spiraling out of control. She’d just been outed. On international TV. By the very girl she had these confusing, conflicting feelings for.
Gasping for air, Gwen stood up as she stumbled over herself before running away.
“I-I…” Gwen sat in the confessional, eyes blown wide as her pupils practically trembled with anxiety.
What could she possibly say after that? The world wouldn’t care. It hated and judged her for being goth, and now, it’d hate and judge her for being a gay goth.
Gwen retreated to the Bass’ cabin for the rest of the day. Away from the cameras, away from everyone who was judging even more than before, away from Heather.
The goth sat curled on her bed, hugging her legs close to her chest as she cried. She’d tried her best to hold it in until she wasn’t being followed by cameras anymore. Not like that’d save her image in the eyes of the public.
Without anyone else in the room to bother her or being woken up by Chris over the intercom, the cabin seemed almost homely. It would’ve done well in housing actual campers, and not a bunch of teenagers who’ve been roped into a gameshow that’ll probably ruin their lives forever. Gwen was still waiting for the verdict on hers.
Gwen didn’t leave the cabin for the rest of the day. The challenge was most certainly over by now. If they somehow lost, Gwen would be going home for sure. She was conflicted on if she’d prefer that at this point.
Exhaustion and stress ate away at Gwen. But just as she was about to fall asleep, the cabin door slammed open as a loud pair of heels clicked towards her.
“Urgh… if you’re here to make fun of me then just-” Gwen turned over, the words dying on her lips when she looked to see who it was.
With a soft kick, the cabin door closed, not quite slammed, firmly. Heather all but strutted to the center of the room, hands comfortably behind her back.
“Gwen. There you are.” Heather’s tone was difficult to read. She was clearly ticked off, obvious, but her faux placidness made it hard to tell how mad she truly was and how much she was holding back. It was anyone's guess really.
“You were looking for me?” Gwen asked.
“We lost.” Blunt and to the point, a bit more like Heather’s usual harshness. Also, she was avoiding the question.
Gwen sat up, using her elbows to prop herself up while she made no move to get out of bed.
“Have fun voting me off then.” Gwen said apathetically. She laid back down and turned to face the wall again, pulling her legs close to her chest.
Something about the goth's response prompted Heather storm over to her bedside.
"Whatever happened to you playing to win?” Heather snapped. She reached down, pulling on the goth girl’s hair.
Gwen swatted the queen bee’s hand away, looking up in shock. “How did you know-” The fire in her eyes died when she looked to see what Heather was holding behind her back. “Right. You read my diary.”
Heather rolled her eyes before haphazardly tossing the book on the bed next to Gwen.
“That I did. And I just so happened to learn some very interesting things about you.” Heather said with a smirk.
The diary laid there on the bed defiantly, almost mocking Gwen. She could tear it to pieces or toss it in the campfire at the elimination ceremony, but nothing would be able to undo what had already happened.
Luckily for the diary, its potential destruction was postponed as Heather pushed it to the side, sitting down on the bed where the diary had once been.
A thousand thoughts rushed through Gwen's head due to Heather’s close proximity. Taking a deep breath, the goth spoke tersely. “What do you want?”
“I was looking to make an…” Heather reached out, holding Gwen’s chin as she caressed her cheek. “... arrangement.”
The shiver that ran up Gwen’s spine was absolutely criminal. She shouldn't be enjoying this. This girl read her diary on TV, she shouldn't- she… God, she was still so hot.
Heather must've sensed Gwen’s internal struggle. Her devious smile widened as she continued.
Despite not going to the communal bathroom to spruce herself up all day, Gwen’s hair was still as eye-catching as ever. Heather couldn't help herself from running her digits through the black and teal hair. “For a goth chick, you're not too bad. At least, as far as looks are concerned. So I’m willing to give you a chance.”
“A chance at… what?” Gwen asked hesitantly. She knew she was taking the bait, and she felt like a tiny fish swimming into the maw of a great big shark.
The answer came a second later, short and simple. “Going out with me. Duh.”
Gwen’s eyes widened at the prospect. She opened her mouth, but when she tried to speak, she found her voice failing her.
"If you wanna make that happen, both of us need to stay in the game.” Heather leaned in even closer, whispering directly into Gwen’s ear despite the cabin being empty save for the both of them. “Vote for Justin. I'll handle the rest.”
Gwen watched, her usually pale face a bright pink, as Heather got up, winked, and started to leave, only to stop while she was halfway out the door.
“By the way. If I'm gonna let you be my 'girlfriend’, we’re gonna need to keep this all under wraps. You can't seriously expect me to ruin my reputation all for you.” Heather looked back at the girl huddled up on her bed. She seemed so small like this. It was almost cute. “Hope you don't mind being my little secret~!”
With that, Heather closed the cabin door behind her.
“The votes are gonna be split between me and Gwen after what I pulled.” Heather explains in the confessional. “Of course, I had a plan going into this. All I need are four votes.
“Lindsay and Beth are easy, Izzy’s just crazy, and Gwen…” Heather hesitates, the corner of her self assured smile twitching for just a moment. “I'll do whatever it takes to keep me in the game. If it means playing into that gothball’s gross feelings, so be it.”
"I'm voting for Heather. Obviously.” Leshawna states plainly in the confessional. “Readin’ someone’s diary for everyone to hear is all kinds of messed up! Still, I’m not big about sleeping in the same cabin as Gwen after what we all learned about her today.”
Leshawna scratches her hair down to her scalp. She knows Gwen wasn't writing about her, but still. “... Should I cut it short, or…”
Trent sits in the confessional staring at the floor.
“... Gwen.” He says after some time. “After our talk during the Awake-a-thon, I thought we really had something special.”
Trent sighs. “Good thing Heather did what she did before I found out about Gwen the hard way. I still can't believe they’d let people like that on this show.”
“Justin!” Izzy says a sharp, toothy grin. “Sorry pretty-boy, but I know you wouldn't wanna get in the way of true love, HA HA!”
“Hope you all are enjoying your marshmallows!” Chris says to all the Gophers sitting around the campfire. Some are lightly toasting their marshmallows, while others (Owen) have already eating theirs up.
“As you can see, there are still three campers, but only two marshmallows.” Chris says, holding the plate high. “And the next marshmallow goes to…”
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“Gwen.”
Gwen sighs with relief as she grabs the marshmallow thrown towards her. Despite that, the goth doesn't move to join her team around the fire, instead remaining in her seat as she fidgets with the marshmallow in her hands.
Chris continues, addressing the two remaining contestants. “Justin. You are one hot piece of work. Real good for ratings. And Heather. You read a girl’s diary on live TV. Not. Cool. Still, I gotta go with what the votes say.”
With a sigh, Chris picks up the one marshmallow left. “And the final marshmallow, with much reluctance, goes to…”
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“Ugh... Heather.” Chris tosses the marshmallow with little gusto or enthusiasm. “Sorry Justin, it's your time to go.”
Justin hangs his head as he makes his way to the Boat of Losers. He brushes past the campfire where everyone is having a stare down with everybody else trying to decipher who even voted for him, let alone how he got the most votes out of everyone.
While observing her team’s silent game of Mafia just across the way, something, or rather someone, taps Gwen’s shoulder.
“Remember.” Heather whispers, placing a hand on the goth’s arm. “Stick with me. And keep a low profile.”
Gwen nods, already regretting what she's gotten herself into.