Ship: Aleheather
Takes place: All-stars Episode 3: 'Saving Private Leechball' (After Elimination Ceremony)
Moonlight skimmed the hazy green pane of the window, making it an effort to peer in. It didn't occur or matter to Heather that she might be seen as a creep - her reputation was already tarnished beyond repair. She had lost the million, and most importantly, she had lost the only person who she had truly connected with in her life.
Sure, he was still there. He was on this godforsaken island. He was still Alejandro. He schemed the same. He still had his absurd amount of talents. He still used that mesmerising gaze of his. But Heather noticed something was... off. She had tried to talk to Courtney about it, but it didn't seem she noticed anything odd with Alejandro's behaviour. No one did. Despite what anyone tried to tell her, he just wasn't her Alejandro.
But was he truly hers?
Perhaps they were meant to be perpendicular. To meet at one point and never again. Perhaps he was to hand her an epiphany, and they weren't meant to have anything substantial. It hadn't been lost on her how she was perceived as nicer after World Tour. Perhaps the whole thing was orchestrated by Chris and the producers. That was one of the most reasonable options, to the dismay of Heather. She had noticed the show had tended to place the 'it' couple of the season in the intro sequence. And the only relationship still lasting out of the 4 seasons was Mike and Zoey's. (But no one cared about those newbies.) Perhaps he was just a mirage. Maybe he wasn't all he seemed anyway. He definitely didn't feel real. It was like he was on another plane of the universe - intangible. His anatomy transcended any idea of what Heather thought was the epitome of 'perfect'. And he was an intellectual. Heather had overheard the many conversations Alejandro and Noah shared, about the likes of the latest scientific theories or Camus or some other things Heather would never be able to comprehend anyway. It was the first time she'd heard Noah be so open. Another thing about him was his way with words.
Of course Heather didn't understand what Alejandro meant by perpendicular. The only thing she knew about the term was that it was mentioned in her Geometry class, and she didn't want anything to do with it. She had overheard him guy-talking with Harold about Leshawna, and about honour and love and that she wants a strong man. Looking back on it, Leshawna probably just didn't know how to let Harold down. Then Alejandro started talking in some motivational speaker voice and likened Harold and Leshawna's relationship to something Harold could digest. And a nerd like Harold's fibre was Geometry. She briefly recalled him saying that they had their spark, and the embers fizzled out as the competition grew more intense with the opening of the second season. Then he went on to reassure Harold that they can rekindle again, yadayadaya. Heather found the conversation quite tedious, and she retreated to 1st class.
Propped up against the wall of the loser cabin, reiterations of the overheard conversation played in her head. They can rekindle again. They, being Alejandro and her, of course. (She couldn't care less about the romantic endeavours of former acquaintances.) Sure, lack of attraction is a whole ballpark under betraying someone, but who could do it other than Heather? She had so-called 'stole his heart' before, she'd be able to do it again. Hopefully.
Creak. That door totally needed oiling. "You're not being inconspic- inconspic- whatever stop spying on us." Scott leered from the door, leaned against the rickety frame as he took in Heather.
"Spying on you?" The scowl to Heather's voice deepened. Spittle escaped Scott's mouth to the likes of Beth before she got those rusty braces taken from her mouth. "Ugh- As if." Her primed brows wove together, vein in her jaw popping at the accusation, which was truthful but that didn't matter. Scott was a fusion of all the most disgusting people on Total Drama. He looked like a relative of Ezekiel, for starters. Crafty like Duncan. Produced more saliva than Beth with her rubber bands. And had the same colour hair as Jo. "Am I not allowed to stand outside my cabin?"
"Sure sure," That was Duncan, piping in as always. "Definitely not here to see your 'Hunny Bunny' Alejandro. Totally." The boys exploded into a fit of immature giggles and snickers, a prime display of juvenility bestowed before her. First of all, they couldn't even unite their shared brain cell and form their own insult- they just stole Lindsay's words and put a spin on it. And second of all, Scott had nothing on her.
Not bothering to wait for the strained howls to diffuse, Heather took a step forward. Her footfalls screamed wrath, spite and fury. "You know Courtney, Scott? The one you've been like, head over heels for?" The vaseline lacquering her pout gleamed eerily. The whites of her eyes twinkled as the dumbfounded expressions the pair wore deepened. "She was like, all over him last season. And so was he. If it hasn't dawned upon you yet, Courtney has standards. I don't think she would look in your way. Ever."
She didn't even have to put Duncan in his place before she departed from the porch of the cabin. It seemed he was captivated by what she said about Scott. Typical. "No way. Noo way, bro!" Duncan practically howled. Most would think he was taking this 'Lone Alpha Wolf' gimmick too seriously. "You like Courtney?! Crazy Courtney?!" Heather's sandalled footfalls were concealed by Duncan's gasps for air and exasperate pleads from Scott to 'Shut up' and some baseless threats.
After striding away from her handiwork, Heather was left with the decision on where to look. Alejandro had most likely had mapped the innards of this island already, she presumed, catty gaze scanning the vicinity. Her first choice was the Dock of Shame, but the pungent scenery and smell put her off completely. She was 100% certain Chris used the massive toilet for 'waste disposal'- a final 'fuck you' from Chris to whoever got eliminated. Despite how much Alejandro had once told her of beaches with 'cerulean waters' and 'velvety sand', Wawanakwa was not that place.
Then, her charcoal-coloured irises fell onto the woods, the same moonlight illuminating the musty window pane highlighting something... A path into what would be an overgrown mess. A fitting place for somewhere to go and not be seen. Alejandro seemed like the type to be one with nature. He was probably into that gimmicky hippie crap and went to meditate. He was sure exceptional at it if he was able to keep his cool around everyone for that long. Even Owen didn't receive most of his wrath. She took eager steps forward, approaching the clearing. What even were the risks here? Izzy wasn't here to cosplay as a bear, and it seemed all the animals shared a single IQ point between them. This would be a cakewalk.
The clearing neared, shrubbery grazing at her slim ankles gingerly. Deciding it was best if she got further in before calling his name out into the night, her speed increased. Earthy scents arose the more her feet padded into the forest. As much as she was enamoured by the ethereal landscape before her, she had to keep wary for multiple things. For one, nettles. It was pretty stupid to go into the woods clothed in heeled sandals and cargo shorts, but she didn't think she'd end up trekking in the woods today. Still, the rosy blotching and unpleasant tingles kept her cautions up.
She shook her head. The most important thing she had to look out for was Alejandro. "Alejandro?" Her voice ricocheted off of the spindly bark, as she continued to navigate this labyrinth. "I know you're in here!" Her ankles had more than likely swollen to twice their size, and it felt like they were encased in lead. Her steps became more heavy and slow- this wasn't the cakewalk she thought it was.
Ultimately she made the decision to turn back. The camp began to refocus into her vision, hazed figures fusing to create the structure of the loser cabins and the outhouse. Twigs crackled under her sandals, a noise that seemed to perturb the birds. Then a twig snapped behind her, her instincts perking her head around, quickening her pace. She couldn't see anythi- thump.
She had tripped over, coated in a membrane of dusty, arid dirt. Heather thought herself lucky it was the height of summer, or she would've been a perfect fit for fossilisation. But that still didn't dismiss that she had fallen off path due to an overground root, into a 4.5ft ditch. "You've got to be kidding me!" She huffed, using all her upper body strength to pull her out of the death pit. Scrambling out at last, she trekked through a cluster of ferns, prickling against her skin as she finally left the forest. Then she took a few steps back to spit on the edge. Just to exhibit her disdain.
The change of lighting allowed her to examine her ankles, which were covered in numerous minor injuries. Stinging abrasions and bruising pecked up her lower leg, a perpetual discomfort for the next week and half. Not to mention that her skin was covered in this ghastly grey cast due to the mud, and some was collecting in her hair. Heather stomped forward, attempting to adjust her parting before she went into the cabin. She was in total need of a shower. The door opened with a shove, and Heather pulled the light on.
"You didn't need to announce your entrance, Heather," A groan sounded from Gwen's bed, and Courtney's comforter was rustling too. "We could smell you from outside." Courtney didn't bother to hide her snicker, despite the raging grudge she held against Gwen.
Heather scowled, hooded eyes narrowing venomously. Her hands grasped the blanket on top of Gwen, and ripped it off the goth's frame. "I think you'll find that horrific smell is Tomboy's gym bag," A slender, manicured finger pointed to the grey bag sat on top of the unmade bed. Heather's gaze returned to a spooked but disgruntled Gwen. "Oh, look! It seems like you've been going through Tomboy's dirty laundry!" Heather gestured to the baggy, creased t-shirt Gwen had on. She discarded the blanket to the oak floor, leaving Gwen to pick it up.
"Can you just go to sleep, Heather?!" Courtney yelled, not caring to turn to face her.
"Take your own advice." Heather replied swiftly, switching the light off again. The noises within the cabin dimmed with the light. As much as she wanted to continue on making Gwen suffer, it was only going to get darker. Squatting, she pulled her suitcase from beneath the bunk, fishing out her microfibre towels and toiletry bag. She could find Alejandro tomorrow, it wasn't like he was stuck in the robot anymore. The wall clock read 23:56, and Heather quickly wrapped the towel around her frame.
Her entrance to the cabin was as abrupt as her exit, dropping her items a number of 2 times in her efforts of departure. She had a mild gratitude towards the summer humidity, as she wasn't inconvenienced by the breeze as she ambled to the shower block in a towel. It grew closer, and Heather could already feel herself melting into the scorching waters. Just how she liked it.
Toiletry pouch held firmly under her armpit, she pushed the door open with a click. Cheap disinfectant wafted into her nose as the door pulled back. And... gourmand? Heather's features scrunched up at the potency of the perfume. She was always a mild, floral perfume type of girl. She hoped to God that she wouldn't bump into Chris here, as he was the only one she knew to wear such brazen scents. She braced herself.
Stepping in, she set her toiletries down, immediately noticing how quiet it was. Maybe she didn't have to brace herself in case she saw Chris. Heather felt the humidity of the room soak into her pores, her skin glimmering with perspiration and water vapour. Perfect for a face mask, she thought to herself.
Before starting her skincare, Heather propped a mop under the door handle. And placed a trash can in front of the door- for good measure. She tore the purple towel off of her skinny frame, discarding it for now. It wasn't like she was naked: her bra and pajama shorts did give her the semblance of being clothed.
Strolling over to the sinks, with various bottles of serums, cleansers and lotions in hand, Heather embraced the warmth of the room.
Her pupils cast to in front of her, and they fell upon broad shoulders, a honeyish shade. The skin tone was uneven, darkening around the shoulder blades. The charcoals of her eyes flitted up to the nape, the skin sharing the same uneven tone. You couldn't mistake it for anything else other than a burn scar. Her stomach dropped.
Slightly overgrown but not long hair sat nicely above the nape, damp with water, which trickled down the toned back of the person. Between the venus dimples was a scar, and Heather estimated the length was around 5 inches. She couldn't help but let her gaze rake down the person, noticing the black towel wrapped around their waist hung to their knees. From all the leg she could see, Heather noticed they were painted with scars too.
"...Heather?" The person punctuated with surprise in their tone, drawing Heather's eyes up and into the mirror. Two green eyes stared back at her.
Alejandro.
She was going to puke.
Alejandro turned around from the sink, which exposed the front of his torso to her. Her thoughts were frenzied, and she wasn't sure on how to act. Her eyes darted from one part of Alejandro to the next, the guilt she felt clawing at her skin. The burns were bad. It was like Alejandro had been broken, and they used spare parts to build him back again. Despite the humidity of the room, Heather could feel herself shrivelling up the more Alejandro kept his gaze on her.
"Nice to see what you think of my burns," The disdain he held towards Heather was palpable, seeping from his expression and tone like an oil spill. "You've gone a little green."
He tossed her a towel, and Heather realised how scantily clad she was. Avoiding eye contact with Alejandro as if it were the plague, she wrapped the towel around her figure. It made her look boxy, due to the sheer size of the towel. "Thanks..."
Alejandro picked up on her avoidant demeanour instantly, which wasn't new to her. "People see scars and don't know how to act." A dry laugh escaped his lips, before fizzling out. He returned to shaving his face.
"I-I..." Heather swallowed the bile that arose in her throat. She had not felt this vulnerable in years. "I didn't... didn't know-"
Alejandro scoffed, and dropped his razor into the sink. Heather could see how his brows knitted together in boiling frustration. "Of course you know what burns look like, Heather. You're an intelligent girl."
Heather's hearing was overtaken by a deep, throbbing ringing. Alejandro hadn't turned to face her, and the dreadful anticipation that bubbled in her guts was digesting her from the inside.
"I didn't know that it would cause this!" She blurted out, her breathing audible as she fought to hold back tears. Her attempt was unsuccessful, and Alejandro could practically smell the salt that dripped from her eyes.
"Didn't know?" Alejandro gripped the sides of the sink with aggression. His biceps tensed as he funnelled all of his pent up anger into holding the counter. "Or didn't care?"
Heather couldn't take it. This whole situation was agonising. Not having an easy read on him was killing her. She didn't understand why he wasn't screaming at her right now. It wasn't like there were any cameras. Heather knew he was angry. Absolutely furious. His bottom lip quivered as he held some sort of restraint on himself. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't gather a coherent reply.
Heather swivelled around, getting ready to ditch her plans for a shower and run back to the cabins. She was forcibly halted when a large hand tightened around her wrist.
"You don't get to run away," Alejandro used Heather as a crutch to get up from the sink. "Sit your ass down."
A/N: I went and edited this because I re-read it and I was appalled 🥰 Anyway I hope you enjoy the new version! If I get around to writing a second half it will be in Alejandro's POV.
If you enjoyed please favourite and comment!! ❤️❤️❤️