Chapter Text
Eventually, you're all told what your challenge will be today; jumping off a huge cliff and into a circle of buoys below. Everyone gets changed into swimsuits, yourself included. You have a black wetsuit on. Not revealing, but it fits you well, clinging to your hips.
"Any volunteers to go first?" Chris pipes up. You step forward.
"I wanna go ahead and get it over with."
Chris looks a little impressed, giving you a nod to go ahead. You lean into his ear. "I have blood pressure problems, so if I pass out midair don't freak out." You whisper.
"Got it." Chris replies, a little amused.
"Go in front of the crowd and jump, kay?"
"Yep." You go to the cliff, looking down. "Do I have to land in that circle of uh. Floatie things down there?" you ask.
"Yep!"
You jump off, falling through the air. You enjoy the rush of adrenaline as you fall. Your ears pop as you go faster and faster. Ah, shit. You forgot about how sensitive your ears are to elevation. It's why you never go on planes. Fuck, that shit hurts. Your ears feel like they have water in them and you haven’t even hit the water yet.
Oh, well. Luckily, you land in the circle, and you're still conscious. You sputter up to the surface, giving a thumbs up to the people on the cliff before swimming to shore. One by one, people chicken out or jump. And eventually, you move on to the next phase of the challenge.
The team that had the least amount of people miss the target or chicken out gets wheelbarrows to carry crates. The other team has to carry them themselves. You, unfortunately, are stuck on the team with no wheelbarrow. To everyone's surprise, despite the goth way you dress and the way you act so fruity, you're pretty strong. You pick up one of the crates easily.
You all carry the crates back to camp, and, even though your muscles aren't tired, you can feel your low blood pressure problems start to affect you. You feel like you're suffocating, and your face goes pale, but you push through it, continuing to carry your crate back to camp. You're on the screaming gophers' team, and the rest of them trail behind you, eventually catching up. You're shaking by the time you get back to camp, dropping your crate and taking out your water bottle, guzzling it.
"Shit, are you okay?" Leshawna asks. "You're pale."
"Yeah," you say. "Well, no. But I can deal with it." You do your best to get some rest before Chris comes by on his four wheeler again. You're told you'll be building a hot tub, and you're pretty good at building, so you do your best to coordinate with everyone. In the end, you have a pretty stable tub, but by the time Chris says you're both done, you haven't gotten the water heater hooked up properly yet. You fiddle with it for a few seconds more while he's still busy checking out the other team's hot tub. Heart hammering, your jimmy and screw the plastic hose into place, feeling the adrenaline course through you at how loud the tube is when you finally connect it. You fist pump after getting it connected, jumping back before Chris can see that you were tampering with the project past the allotted time.
Chris finally meanders over to your guys' tub to inspect it. He looks down into it and then gives you a thumbs up.
"Good job, guys!" The gophers all cheer as he takes his leave. He stands between the two. "Well, for the final part of the challenge, whoever built the best hot tub was going to get to keep it. Buttt.." He squints. "They look about the same! So, what I'm gunna do-" and, just as he's about to take out a coin to flip, the poorly secured hose on your hot tub comes loose, spraying boiling water at your leg.
"Fuck! Shit!" You rush backward, holding your leg without touching the burn "Fuck!"
Chris blinks. "Nevermind; Killer bass win." The other team cheers as your teammates rush to you, concerned. Your leg is bright red and it stings. You're definitely gonna have blisters.
"Make sure he gets medical attention after we're done." Chris says to Chef.
"You okay dawg?" Owen asks. You whimper.
"Not really, fuck, ow-"
"Just take a Tylenol and you'll be fine." Heather says. "Shut the fuck up." You snap at her.
"Jeez, someone's grumpy." She says. "What a baby."
"I didn't ask for your opinion, daddy's girl. Take your fake personality and fake tits and go be unpleasant somewhere else."
Heather's face twists up into rage as it heats up, looking the same color as your leg. Chris grins, eagerly leaning forward to observe the drama. You ask Owen to help you up. He does, and as soon as you're upright, you limp over to a stump: a far better place to sit than the grass. You avoid further conflict, ignoring her bitching in the background as you stare at the ground, holding your leg gingerly and looking at the damage. A large portion of the front of your shin is bright red, and several skin bubbles full of liquid have already started to develop. The burn stings, but it isn't unbearable. From experience, you know that popping them leaves you with a much easier-to-deal with scab, but you refrain at the moment.
Your hands and leg are dirty, you don't want an infection. For now, you just sit and wait for the teams to clear out. Chris and chef approach you.
"Sorry, man. That looks like it sucks. Also, you didn't get it from me, but-" he leans down into your ear. "Keep up the tension with Heather. I want to exploit that shit for views."
You roll your eyes. "Watch it," you say, jokingly. Chef tends to your leg, disinfecting it and spraying it with something soothing. You grab Chris by the collar, keeping him close. "I'll do as I damn well please, but.." You trail off, getting distracted by his lips and stubble. "But yeah, fine. Not like I was planning on making it up to her." You say, letting him go. You jokingly push him, and the taller man only laughs.
"I was hoping you'd see it my way." he says, grinning devilishly. You roll your eyes, hissing as Chef turns your leg to see if any other part of you is burned. Eventually, he decides he's satisfied and leaves you two. The camera crew follows to see people settling into their cabins, leaving you with a moment alone with Chris.
"So," he begins. "You're a podcast maker and YouTuber, right?" You slowly nod.
".. Why?"
"Oh, just thinking you could do me a favor and give the show a shoutout is all. Maybe do an ad."
"Oh," you say. "uh, sure! I mean, yeah definitely. My viewers need something while I'm away from my pc anyways," you say, trying to play it cool.
"Great," Chris smiles.
There's a small silence as you feel your face heat up. You two are awfully close. You look up at the older man, flustered. Your heart flutters at the idea of doing his show a favor. You try to keep your cool by making eye contact. "Well, uh. I'll just-" you stand. "I think it's about time I go to bed."
"Oh, sure. Yeah, you need your rest and all."
"Thanks for patching me up," you pat Chef's shoulder as you hobble your way to the cabin.
He waves, then calls back. "Anytime, kid."
You wave back, entering the cabin. You get unpacked before brushing your teeth and going to bed.