ttwt episode 8
“Last time, on Total Takes World Tour: the teens competed in an all-out race from Wales- the place, not the animal, MAL- to England, where they were “rewarded” with a delicious helping of classic British cuisine. Sha-Mod came to terms with his face, and a 35,000 foot drop after he was unanimously eliminated- or was he? Haha. Mystery and drama make a great combination, and we’re serving them to you- right here, right now, on Total Takes: World Tour!”
Michela pokes at her gelatinous helping of eggs from the galley. She moves down the line, dumping a portion of furry oatmeal on her plate before giving up, dropping the whole thing in the garbage and sitting with a cup of warm water.
“Not hungry?” Albert asks, separating his own oatmeal into bite-size chunks.
“Not really. I feel really bad about what happened to Sha-Mod,” she sighs. “It had to be Patrick- he tampered with the votes. We all agreed to vote for him.”
Albert looks across the room to where Patrick is leaning against the wall, nodding his head along with whatever music is playing over his Walkman.
“I’m not mistrusting your judgment, but… him? He’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the bunch,”
“He has a track record,” she says, glaring at him. “And he knew we were going to vote for him.”
Albert shrugs. From across the room, Max squints.
---
MAX: “Everyone thinks he’s sooo great, Mr. “I put Chris in jail!”. Well, I’m not falling for that. There’s something off about him. I'm going to figure out what. This is possibly my greatest case yet,” he pulls out a deerstalker cap and puts it on confidently.
---
Bonnie nudges his shoulder. “Lay off, man. Try not to think about it so much,”
“It’s not that, it’s… never mind,” he sighs. “Let’s just focus on the challenge today. I’m sick of economy.”
The two turn back to their team, who are drifting around nervously. Staci looks exhausted, barely holding her head up over her bacon and eggs. Kelly is at her side, watching over her nervously, and Phillip is sitting under the table.
“Not looking too good,” Bonnie sighs. “I wish Caesar were here.”
Max shrugs and begins walking back to the group. “That makes one of us,”
---
BONNIE: “In a way, I really do appreciate Max’s complete apathy towards me and Caesar- sure, it’s rude, and he’s a little prick, but at least he’s not being borderline obsessive over us,”
---
Bonnie follows shortly after and takes a seat on Staci’s other side. She immediately turns to them. “Bonnie, can I ask for some advice?”
They grumble, and then sigh. “Fine,”
“Well… I’ve read all about leadership, communication, and effective group work, and I still can’t get anyone to listen. What should I do?”
“How should I know?” Bonnie asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I-I just mean… you seem so confident… I could’ve never done what you did. Confessing your feelings on national TV,”
“International!” Max corrects from across the table. Bonnie glares at him.
“It’s not like that. That wasn’t me being… brave, or whatever, I was forced to. I hated every second of it!”
“But you still did, and you made it look so cool…” Staci says nervously, twiddling their thumbs and looking down at their lap.
Bonnie sighs. “Okay, just… try not to think too hard about it. You can’t force yourself to be good at something, right?”
“Disagree,” Max says. Bonnie glares again.
“Ignore him. Just don’t expect reading to teach you everything,” they shrug, then get up and move to the other side of the table.
---
STACI: “Um, I mean, no offense, but reading is kind of my thing. Do you know how many kin guides I’ve written? Reading is a prerequisite to experience, not the other way around! But... if that's what it takes...”
---
First class is unusually tense this morning.
Ass and Courtney are both awake, but there’s no bickering, no disagreements, not even any snide comments- rather, they’re both focused on the blonde across the cabin.
Julia is pacing back and forth murmuring to herself.
---
JULIA: “Big surprise, Patrick tampered with the votes. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming,�� she pauses to sigh. “I guess if you want something done, you gotta do it yourself.”
---
Back in economy, Michela watches as the plane begins landing over a great expanse of green, her eyes wide. “This looks a lot like-”
“That’s right! Welcome to Quebec, Canada!” Chris’ voice blares over the intercom.
The rest of economy class crowd around Michela and oohs at the trees and rivers beneath them as the plane begins its descent.
The pink-haired girl takes a seat and buckles in as the altitude decreases. “Hopefully this’ll be easy,”
“Easy?” Albert asks, fidgeting with his seatbelt.
“My family is French, most of us live in Quebec,” she shrugs. “In Island I was apparently the fan favorite from the province, so maybe Chris’ll throw us a bone.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, honey,” Patrick chuckles. He’s standing in front of the two, hands on his hips. “There are no free handouts in life, I- YEOWWWWWW!”
He screams as the plane nosedives and sends him flying around the cabin. Neither Michela nor Albert look very concerned with helping him.
Bonnie ducks as Patrick goes flying overhead, smacking against the walls like he’s stuck in a pinball machine. “Hey, watch it!”
“Can you guys PLEASE get him under control!” Staci shouts. Michela shrugs.
She scoffs and turns to her team. “Well, I’d never do that to you guys. Not even you, Phillip,”
He beams. “You… wouldn’t let me die?”
“Of course not! You’re a part of the team,”
Phillip grins and reaches under his seat for his notebook (just in time for Patrick to go flying over his spot). “I drew these for you,” he says, handing Staci a stack of crude crayon drawings. Most of them are of oddly shaped horses, but one is a self portrait.
“Aww, that’s so sweet!” they say, rifling through the pages. “And this is a great self-portrait. Is your real name Alejandro?”
He shrugs bashfully. “No, but I really see myself in Alejandro from the original show. He’s literally me,”
Staci’s eyes go wide. “Oh. My. Gosh! You’re a fellow kinnie!”
“A what?”
She squeals and claps her hands. Max looks suicidal.
“Do you have Tumblr? We should follow each other’s blogs. I’m a Staci kin, but since TTI I’ve also started kinning Topher, Gwen, Brick, Dawn…” she counts off the list on her fingers. “Basically, I’m expanding my kin horizons and I’ve never met a kinnie IRL!”
“This is torture. Kill me, please,” Max says to Bonnie.
They grunt, putting their hands over their ears. “Let’s make a pact,”
---
“Bienvenue and welcome to beautiful Quebec!” Chris says as the teens exit the plane.
Michela raises an eyebrow. “That was just “welcome” twice,”
“Whatever. Your challenge today is a simple two-parter- you’ll start here, in the rolling forests of beautiful Canada, with these,” he holds up three buckets, and three taps, tossing one of each to each team. “Fun fact: Quebec is the number one producer of maple syrup in the entire world. Today, you guys will be continuing that tradition!”
“You seriously expect us to get sap with these?” Courtney holds up the thin metal tap.
“Uh-huh, not to mention boiling it and filtering it to perfection to get that tasty syrup. Your results will be criticized by Judge Chef,” he jabs his thumb backwards, to where Chef is sitting at a table in the woods. “And then we’ll move on to your next challenge.”
Michela raises a hand. “But… it’s summer,”
“An excellent point from our resident North American Frenchie,” Chris says, pointing a finger in her direction. “Since trees are tapped in late winter, we’ve hidden some special, man-made trees ready for sapping around the woods. You gotta find ‘em.” he chuckles.
The teens groan. A warm breeze pushes through the trees, and a bird squawks overhead.
“Enough whining. Now get to it!”
After a beat, the teams start wandering off, walking alongside each other cautiously. Team Yaoi starts off in the lead, heading north. “So… does anyone have any idea how to tap a tree?” Courtney asks.
“Don’t you just ram it in there and the… stuff comes out?” Ass shrugs.
“Sap. And don’t make it sound so crude, there has to be some method to it,”
“Sure! It’s called taking the tap, and shoving it into the tree!”
“You are so insufferable!”
Ass and Courtney begin bickering uninterrupted while Julia murmurs to herself, walking ahead of them with Mal shortly behind. “We can’t lose, can’t lose again,”
“Sure thing. Now try telling those idiots that,” Mal says, snorting. “But Assney is trending again, so at least they’re doing something.”
“That means literally nothing to me,” Julia sighs.
---
The sun is bright and warm today, making the trek through the woods almost pleasant for Team Friendship- in fact, today is the first day in a long time where the air surrounding the group is actually friendly.
Bonnie and Max are inadvertently leading the rest, making snide remarks about the other teams (particularly a certain ferocious blonde and an environmentalist). Close behind them, Staci and Phillip are discussing fandom politics.
Far behind the rest of the group, Kelly trudges along.
---
KELLY: “Did I do something wrong? Is there a reason why everyone’s moving on without me? I-I mean, in the literal sense. They’re walking fast. Nothing else!”
---
“Up there!” Bonnie says, pointing ahead. A large, obviously metallic tree is sticking out of the ground. A bird lands on one of its branches and gets electrocuted.
“I think we’re the first team to find ours- let’s hurry!” Staci says, running ahead. The team follows behind her as a familiar ding indicates everyone’s fears coming true- song time.
“We’re heading down to Quebec, those cold eastern woods!” Bonnie sings, tossing the tap to Max.
He catches it and sets down the bucket. “We’ll take the sap, make it sweet, and boil that syrup good!”
Across the woods, Courtney flicks their team’s tap. “I can’t get a drop to spare, so we better find a plan!”
Ass shoves them out of the way and bounces a rock in their palm. “It’s gotta be deeper, further, in that trunk, so move your little hands,” Courtney jumps out of the way as Ass starts pounding in the tap with a rock. “In! In! In!”
“It’s a sap shanty, and it’s darn catchy!” Julia sings along. “Come on, people, let’s win!”
Further in the woods, Albert screws their tap into a metal tree and a clear liquid begins to pour out of it. Patrick gives him a heavy punch on the shoulder. “Man, you’re a basket case, but you sure can tap a tree!”
Michela shoves a finger in Patrick’s face. “Watch it, man, I’m onto you, you’re not fooling me!”
He rolls his eyes.
Back across the woods, liquid finally begins pouring from the metal husk. Team Friendship cheers. “Winning to-day, teamies, first class here we come!”
Back over at Team Yaoi, Julia picks up. “Let’s win this thing, keep singing, I’ll trash that lying scum!”
Albert finishes filling their quota and pulls the tap from the tree, thanks it, then sings. “It’s a sap shanty, and it’s darn catchy!” Michela picks up Team Mojo’s bucketful of sap and begins running back to the plane. “C’est un chanson de sève, et c’est mag-ni-fique!”
All three teams stop at the plane at the same time, panting as the song ends. Michela stands first. “Alright, let’s go!”
The other groupings follow, finding their supplies already laid out for them and their instructions ready. Staci takes the sheet and squints. “Crap, this is in French,”
“Quebecois French,” Max corrects, setting down their bucket. He takes the pamphlet from them. “I took four years of European French. How much different could it be?”
Michela snorts at him from where Team Mojo is set up. He looks up at her with wide eyes and she salutes him with a smile. “Mets-en!”
Team Friendship turns to Max and he sighs. “Okay, maybe a little different. But this is an instruction manual, surely it's intelligable?”
“We’ll see,” Bonnie mumbles.
Julia blinks at her team's instructions. “Um… Mal, how long would it take to translate all this?”
“I could just image translate it,” she says, not bothering to look up from her phone. Julia opens her mouth. “-If my camera wasn’t shattered.”
She sighs. Courtney raises an eyebrow. “How do you break a phone camera?”
“Bonnie caught me taking pictures and smashed it with a hammer,” Mal sulks.
“Great! Just great! Dumb goth,” Julia murmurs. “Whatever, it’s fine. All we need are numbers, right? Temperatures and times or whatever?”
Ass and Courtney look between each other, and then shrug.
---
The table Chef is sitting at is far too fancy for the show- covered in a white table cloth, adorned with a porcelain vase full of lilies. Chris sits at the edge of the surface, whistling and picking at his nails.
“Sooo… you see that new show?” the host asks nonchalantly.
Chef shakes his head. “Not gonna, it seems confusing. What do you care?”
“Just making conversation, dude. Oh, here we go- Team Mojo!”
Michela, Albert, and Patrick run up with a small vial of warm brown liquid. The pink-haired girl sets it down on the table and then phews, wiping her forehead.
Chef uncorks the glass and dips his pinkie finger in it, giving it a light taste. The team watches in anticipation as he smacks the flavor around his mouth, then: gives a thumbs up. “10/10,”
Albert and Michela cheer, and even Patrick cracks a small smile.
“Mojos, you may move on to the next part of the challenge,” Chris says. “If you’ll continue left, you’ll find a stage waiting for you.”
They high five and run off. Team Friendship runs up next, their syrup more apple juice-like in color and consistency.
Chef gives the team an odd look, but tastes it anyway. He shrugs. “Edible. 6/10. Move on!”
Team Friendship huffs and keeps running. “Good work, Max!” Staci says. He rolls his eyes and catches up to Bonnie.
“Is it just me, or is Staci totally kissing my ass today?”
Bonnie shrugs. “She’s looking for guidance. You’re kind of a natural leader,”
“Don’t flatter me,”
“I’m being serious. I couldn’t do half the stuff you do,” they say. “I wish people would go to you instead of me.”
He rolls his eyes. “You know, at some point you’re going to have to accept that people actually like you now,”
They scoff. “Oh, whatever,”
“Look at them,” he whispers harshly. They turn back to the group behind them. “They worship the ground you walk on.”
Bonnie gives him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Pachmann,”
“Your last name is Pachmann?” Phillip asks from ahead of them. “Like the video game guy?”
“Yes! Shut up!” Max shouts, then turns to Bonnie. “I told you that in confidence! How would you feel if I started going around reminding everyone Bonnie is short for-”
Bonnie puts their hands up. “Alright! Point taken! Let's just drop this, okay?” and they speed up.
---
Last to arrive at the judgment table is Team Yaoi, who are looking exhausted and frazzled. Julia drags Mal behind her, who has a glass vial of something solid stuck to her right shoulder.
“And if you had been watching the pan, it wouldn’t have over-boiled!” Courtney shouts, pointing in Ass’ face.
They scoff. “And if you had stopped nitpicking, I could’ve actually paid attention! Backseat driver much?”
Courtney gasps in offense and the two keep bickering. Julia picks up Mal by the scruff and sets her on the table. “Bon. Appetit,” she huffs, stepping back.
Chef raises an eyebrow, staring at the sticky mess on Mal’s arm, then the crystalized syrup. He shakes his head. “Inedible. 0/10!”
“You guys are lucky we’re on a schedule,” Chris says, tapping his watch. “I was really looking forward to sending you back to the woods for another try. You got lucky- onto the next part of the challenge!”
Julia groans in exasperation and picks Mal up again, dragging her off.
---
“Another vibrant part of Quebecois life are the arts- particularly the dance,” Chris explains, pacing a hastily-constructed stage. “Today, you’ll be dancing La Bastringue- a traditional folk dance that you’ll need to work together for- Team Yaoi!”
Julia rolls her eyes. Chris goes on: “This is both a group and a duo project- which means you’ll be sorting yourselves into pairs,”
Staci raises a hand. “Um, we have an uneven number of players,”
“So do we,” Michela says, crossing her arms.
“I know,” The host chuckles. “Odd ones out on Team Friendship and Team Mojo will get each other. Good luck, and happy pickings!”
Albert sighs. “So, I guess we’ll-”
“I call the pink one,” Patrick says, grabbing Michela’s arm.
She scoffs. “As if I’d ever want to-”
“I’m not dancing with him. That's gay,” he stops, pointing towards Albert. “Or any of them. That's even gayer.” he gestures to Team Friendship. “And if you know what’s good for this team, you’ll agree!”
Michela growls, and Albert sighs. “Fine! You win, Patrick,”
Patrick grins widely, and Michela turns to Albert with a mystified expression. He shrugs.
---
ALBERT: “Patrick thinks he’s smart. It’s pathetic. But I can’t let him know that he’s not a threat, otherwise he might get worried and do something irrational, like an animal backed into a corner,” he smiles slowly. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”
---
Bonnie and Max reluctantly link arms. Kelly turns to Staci. “So, partners?”
“Oh, um, sorry, but I already promised Phillip I’d team with him. We’re having a really fun discussion about kin drama,” Staci giggles. “I’ll get you next time, though!”
Kelly smiles softly. “That’s alright. So I’m with…”
“Me,” Albert says, suddenly appearing right behind them. They jump slightly. “Not a team favorite, huh?”
“Well… I just got unlucky. What about you?” they ask.
“I volunteered. I’m doing those two a favor, really,” he sighs, jabbing his thumb behind him. “And there's no such thing as luck, by the way.”
Kelly raises an eyebrow, but shakes off the odd remark and returns to the task at hand as Chris calls everyone over. Neither Ass, nor Courtney, wanted to work with Mal, leaving them with each other.
Chef stands on the stage with a barrage of crude, faceless cardboard cutouts of past players. “The dance is pretty simple. You start off together, holding hands,” Chris says in a scary voice, wiggling his fingers. “Then you break off into your duos, do the usual ballroom dancing nonsense, blah, blah, blah..” he goes on as Chef demonstrates on stage. “Get up here!”
The teens stand in a circle on stage, holding hands and looking at each other uneasily. “How do we win?” Courtney asks, glaring at Ass.
“Last man standing,”
“In a dance competition?” Patrick scoffs. “Are we going to finger-paint and read bedtime stories after?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you,” Chris chuckles. “Ready? Set? Dance!”
Every competitor, united by their hands, spins in an uneasy circle around the stage. They raise their wrists up, pulling their hands to the sky and move in and out of the circle in a flowery, delicate movement.
Michela has to practically yank Patrick along as he stands as stiff as a board. The duos begin to splinter off, hands intertwined and placed firmly on hips and shoulders. They awkwardly spin around each other.
“Ow! You just stepped on my foot!” Courtney hisses.
Ass scoffs. “I’m not a dancer, sue me!”
“As if I’d give you the time of the day!”
“Guys, keep it together,” Julia says, passing them by while Mal hums to herself merrily. Courtney and Ass roll their eyes in sync.
“Is it just me, or lately has she had a massive stick up her a-”
“Ass!” Courtney chides. “Be civil. She’s trying her best.”
“She’s been really riding on us for not winning, though. What’s her deal?”
Courtney looks both ways as they spin around the circle and leans in. “I heard her in the confessional this morning. Apparently, she tried to get Patrick off Team Mojo, but he messed with the votes and Sha-Mod got kicked off instead. She’s majorly pissed about it,”
“I would be too,” Ass murmurs, looking across the stage to where Michela is dragging Patrick around like his feet are encased in concrete. “Dude’s a total airhead”
“I know. So let’s take it easy on her, okay?”
Ass sighs. “Fine. Whatever you say, Strawberry Shortcake,”
Courtney smiles and squeezes their shoulder, prompting Ass to turn away and look back into the crowd.
One of the tiles on the wooden floor shoots a burst of electricity up, frying off Mal’s eyebrows. Julia gasps and takes a step back. “Out!” Chris yells. She groans.
Max and Bonnie move across the floor stiffly and awkwardly, walking more so than dancing. Both shuffle their feet to avoid stepping on each other, and both are looking in different directions. Max is fixed on Michela and Patrick, Bonnie is watching Albert and Kelly cautiously.
The latter two are moving with some ease, not held back by reluctant partners or bickering like most of the other pairings. Still, though, there’s some sense of discomfort in the air.
Kelly gazes off towards the rest of their team, watching longingly.
“I see you still haven’t taken my advice,” Albert says. “Still happy-go-lucky over nothing, right?”
“There’s nothing wrong with positivity,” they respond automatically, as if they’d rehearsed the defense a thousand times.
“But there is, isn’t there?”
Kelly turns back towards Albert and looks at him. His gaze is somewhat lowered, but very fixed on them.
“Getting your hopes up over nothing. The universe doesn’t work like that. I would know,”
“What do you mean?” They ask, half-intrigued and half-uneasy.
He starts speaking, but pauses once the two are forced to rejoin the group for more hand-holding and circle time. Once they split off again, he clears his throat.
“Okay, think about it this way: the universe is infinite. Correct?”
They shrug, then nod.
“And we’re one tiny speck, completely alone- and don’t argue with me on this- there’s been no evidence of advanced civilization outside our rock,”
“I guess so,”
“Only 5% of the cosmos contain the necessary ingredients to sustain life. And even then, there are millions of other factors. You’re not religious, are you?”
“Not particularly,”
“I’m not, either. So, how is it that we can live in a world with trees and fish and reality TV and radioactive poison? Why is it just us?” he says, pausing to spin them around. “It’s random. Like a slot machine. There’s no luck, no fate, no higher order that plans these things out. The universe is chaotic and empty, and we just happen to be the poor bastards living in it.”
Kelly shakes their head. “I don’t agree with that. It isn’t meaningless,”
“Did I say it was meaningless?” he says, lowering his eyes again. “No, there’s meaning. Everyone has a purpose. I said it’s chaotic. You might have a meaning, and then a cruel twist of events can take that away from you.” he pauses to gesture towards Staci. Kelly follows his fingers.
“So, what’s the point of it all to you?” they ask. “We just shouldn’t try to make the world a better place?”
He sighs a little. “You really are a blonde, aren’t you? No. I don’t think we should just give up and lie around eating ice cream all day, but we also shouldn’t waste our time ‘manifesting’ anything. If you want something done,” he says, twirling them around again to face their team. “You have to do it yourself.”
A burst of flames shoots out of the floor and singes Phillip, turning his entire body a sooty black. Kelly raises an eyebrow and turns back to Albert.
“See? Random,”
Staci helps him off the floor just as everyone’s attention is diverted to Michela, who’s shouting loudly at Patrick now. The two have stopped moving to yell at each other, forcing Chef to grab both of them and toss them off the platform.
The distraction pulls Kelly and Albert's eyes off the floor just long enough for it to open under them- both falling through a trapdoor and onto the earth below them.
“Well, there’s my cue,” Albert says, letting go of Kelly’s clammy hands. “Just think about what I said, alright? There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”
And with that, he walks off.
---
ALBERT: “I guess I just felt bad for them, if anything. They remind me a lot of my younger self: clueless,”
---
Courtney and Ass, and Bonnie and Max, remain the only players left on the platform. Neither of them are dancing very well, and both are watching the floor nervously for any surprises.
Bonnie manages to grab Max and pull him out of the way as another section of the floor disappears beneath his feet. “Ew, your hands are all sweaty,”
“Cool, next time I’ll let you fall!” Bonnie says in a cheerily-sarcastic tone. Max rolls his eyes.
“One, two, one, two,” Courtney murmurs, guiding their feet around Ass’.
They wrinkle their nose. “You’re breathing in my face,”
“Sorry, I’m trying to focus,” they say. “Julia staring is making me really nervous.”
Ass looks over to the ground below the platform, where Jules is glaring at the both of them, hands on her hips. They roll their eyes.
“Just ignore her. She’s gone boy-crazy,” they murmur. “Except instead of kissing boys she wants to kill them.”
“Hah, makes two of us,” Courtney grins. Ass laughs back. There’s a long pause. “What’s your real name, again? I keep forgetting.”
“Natalie,” they shrug. “What’s yours?”
“Hm?”
“Courtney isn’t your real name,” they grin. “Can’t be. So what’re you hiding?”
“Oh, nothing, I just… I use my online persona as my name because it’s easier,” Courtney shrugs. “Plus, Mal… I mean, she does too, but I’d hate for her to find any more personal information about me. She’s a little dox-crazy.”
“Every new piece of information I learn about that twit,” Ass sighs, rolling their eyes. “Can’t believe I ever saw anything in her.”
“Me either…” Courtney trails off. “You and her were never…. Right?”
“Oh, God, no. I mean, I guess it might’ve gone in that direction if we’d stayed friends, but that’d have made the reveal even worse,” they say sharply, avoiding eye contact. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s… not important,”
Ass’ eyes widen. “No. Really?”
“It was a phase! Well, that’s what she thinks of it,” Courtney says. “It was my first real relationship, even if it was online, and it… well… never mind, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Whatever,” Ass mumbles. “But I get it. Kind of. I can’t believe she managed to fool me into thinking she was someone I could trust.”
“I get the feeling,”
The two smile at each other for a moment before Max’s screams in the background pull their attention back to behind them. Bonnie shouts “STOP DROP AND ROLL!” while trying to smother the flame on his blazer.
He drops off the platform, into a pile of wet grass and groans. Bonnie winces.
“Youuuuu’re out!” Chris shouts. “Once again, Team Yaoi have won the challenge!”
Julia sighs, relieved, and Courtney and Ass high-five.
“It’s about TIME you two started getting along,” the blonde snaps as they step off the platform. Ass rolls their eyes.
“Team Mojo, since all of your players were out first, you’ll be going back to the elimination hall-”
“WOOOOO!” Julia shouts, pumping her fists.
“-Is what I would say if this wasn’t a reward challenge!”
Patrick smirks and the smile drops off her face. “Say what now?”
Chris gestures behind him and Chef rolls a large dolly carrying a massive container of maple syrup. “Your winnings for today are this ginormous, 2 meter tall syrup… to share,” he smiles. “Enjoy first class!”
---
The sky outside is dark and full of stars, the mood inside the plane is cozy and warm, but Julia isn’t enjoying any amenities or beauties from today.
She sulks in one of the plush first class seats, leaning back as low as she can and kicking her feet up on the chair across from her. Mal is sitting at the mocktail bar, enjoying what she calls a “Mal Special” (one cup of ginger ale and one cup of milk mixed together) while scrolling through her phone, and Ass and Courtney are having a catered dinner together at the fancy first-class dining table.
---
JULIA: “One thing- all I ask for- just ONE thing, and that lousy, ungrateful, self-obsessed princess is still sitting on this plane!”
---
Economy is a little more cheerful tonight. Patrick had gone to sleep at his usual 8 PM sharp (to avoid morning puffiness and dark circles), Albert is reading, and Phillip and Staci have been swapping fanfiction and poetry for the past few hours.
Michela and Max have cozied themselves up in one corner of the plane, and are currently chatting quietly about the day’s events.
“He’s such a pain,” she sighs, resting her arm on Max’s shoulder. “I already miss Sha-Mod. I mean, no one even got lost today! I didn’t have a single side quest to complete!”
“And you still lost,” Max shakes his head. Michela shoves him and he falls off the bench, laughing.
“We both lost, you jerk,” she says, offering him a hand. He takes it and she pulls him back up on the bench with ease. “It was a group effort.”
“At least you tried,” he says, eyes drifting back to his team. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with these people, really. They’re hopeless.”
“Aw, you miss me,” she goes to elbow him and his arm parries hers with expert precision. He elbows her back.
“Sure, whatever. Maybe I do,”
“Well, I maybe-miss you too,”
Down the bench, Albert rolls his eyes and buries himself deeper in his book. A round of giggles from Phillip and Staci take over the air in the space, but no one besides Kelly pays them much attention.
They stand and sit next to Bonnie, who stifles a groan. “What now?”
“I just… um, I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Kelly says, almost nervously.
“Fine. Tired. What’s wrong?”
They shake their head. “Nothing! I just saw you alone tonight and figured you might need some company,”
Bonnie pauses for a good, long moment, then sighs. “Alright. What did you want to talk about?”
Kelly claps their hands and takes a deep breath. “We can talk about anything- have you been keeping up with the Celebrity Manhunt drama? Or- ooh, what’s your sign? What’s your favorite color? Can I paint your nails?”
“Um…” Bonnie thinks for a moment. “No, I don’t know, purple, and… fine, I guess.”
---
BONNIE: “I guess Max was a little right- people do want to be my friend now. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. I mean, I went from having no friends to having one friend, and that was weird enough- now everyone and their grandma wants to get coffee together and gab about the latest gossip? How do I go from 0 to 100 like that!”
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KELLY: “See? Albert was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being a positive, nice person,” they smile, then sigh. “For an environmentalist, you’d think he’d be a little more optimistic. But never mind that- plum is so Bonnie’s color!”
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Economy becomes silent again as Max and Michela fall asleep, Staci returns to reading some impossibly heavy book, Phillip goes back to standing in the window to “absorb the moon’s power”, and Bonnie and Kelly talk quietly while the latter paints their nails a warm shade of purple.
Albert looks up from his book for a moment, then rolls his eyes.
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