The *Total Drama Aftermath* studio lights were dimmed low, casting a warm, amber glow over the couch. It was a rare night. For the first time since the show began, Ezekiel and Gwen were not sitting behind the main desk.
On the couch sat Noah, looking as bored as ever, a thick hardcover book balanced on his knee. Beside him sat Eva, cracking her knuckles rhythmically, her eyes scanning the audience like a hawk searching for weakness. And between them, seated in a specially built miniature chair, was Mr. Coconut. He wore a tiny headset and a bowtie. He said nothing. He didn't need to.
"Welcome to the Aftermath," Noah drawled, not looking up from his page. "I'm Noah. This is Eva. And this is… a fruit. Try not to ask him too many questions. He's unionized."
Eva leaned into the mic. "If anyone bores me, I'm throwing them into the pool. Let's get started."
Mr. Coconut nodded solemnly.
The audience cheered. It was a different energy without Ezekiel's warm "eh"s and Gwen's dry wit. But backstage, in the quiet corridors of the soundstage, that absence was being felt for a very specific reason.
Ezekiel leaned against the concrete wall of the hallway, checking his watch. He wasn't wearing his host vest tonight. Just a simple green hoodie and jeans. He looked less like a TV personality and more like the farm boy he used to be.
"You ready?" Gwen's voice came from the shadows.
She stepped into the light. She wasn't wearing her goth makeup tonight. No heavy eyeliner, no dark lipstick. Just her natural face, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She looked tired, but relaxed. She was wearing a oversized grey sweater that swallowed her hands.
"Ready as I'll ever be, eh," Ezekiel said, pushing off the wall. "Noah said he'd cover for us. Said something about… 'finally getting some peace without the lovebirds distracting the demographic'."
Gwen snorted, a small laugh escaping her. "That sounds like Noah. Did Eva agree?"
"Eva said if we're not back in an hour, she'll hunt us down. So… we have exactly fifty-eight minutes."
Gwen stepped closer, slipping her hand into his. Her fingers were cold, but his were warm. "Then let's not waste it."
They slipped out the back exit of the studio, into the cool Toronto night. The city hummed in the distance, a low vibration of traffic and life that felt worlds away from the artificial drama of the show. There were no cameras here. No boom mics dipping into the frame. No Chris McLean waiting to twist their words into a headline.
They walked in silence for a while, just enjoying the absence of noise. They ended up on a small grassy hill behind the studio lot, overlooking the skyline. It wasn't much, just a patch of weeds and forgotten space, but it was theirs.
Ezekiel shrugged off his hoodie and spread it on the ground for them to sit on. Gwen sat down, pulling her knees to her chest. Ezekiel sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"It's weird," Gwen said softly, looking out at the city lights. "Not having to perform. I forgot what it feels like to just… exist."
Ezekiel nodded, watching her profile instead of the view. "Yeah. Back on the farm, silence wasn't empty. It was… full. You could hear the wind, the crops growing, the animals. Here, silence feels like waiting for something to explode."
Gwen turned to look at him. Her eyes searched his face. "Do you regret it? Coming back to host? Being in the spotlight again?"
Ezekiel paused. He thought about the timeline. He thought about the future he remembered, the mistakes he made, the monster he became in another life. He thought about Izzy being taken by government agents just yesterday. The world was changing faster than he anticipated.
"No," Ezekiel said honestly. "Not if it means I'm here. With you."
Gwen's breath hitched slightly. She looked down at her hands, tucked into the sleeves of her sweater. "You say things like that so easily. Like it's just… fact."
"Because it is, eh."
Gwen shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're impossible, Zeke. You know that?"
"I've been told."
They sat in comfortable silence again. The wind picked up, rustling the tall grass around them. Gwen shivered slightly. Ezekiel didn't hesitate. He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him immediately, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much," she murmured.
"Gwen?"
"Yeah?"
Ezekiel hesitated. He wasn't good with words sometimes. He was better with actions. Fixing fences, hauling hay, jumping in front of sharks. But this… this was different. This was vulnerable.
"In the other… you know… the timeline I came from," Ezekiel started, his voice low. "We didn't end up like this. We drifted. Life got in the way. The show ended, and we went back to being… strangers."
Gwen lifted her head to look at him. "But you changed it. You came back."
"I came back to fix things. To be better. But… I didn't know if fixing the game meant fixing… us." Ezekiel took a deep breath. "I was scared. If I pushed too hard, if I said too much… would it break everything? Would you look at me and just see the weird farm kid again?"
Gwen reached up, her hand cupping his cheek. Her thumb brushed over his skin, warm and gentle. "Zeke. Look at me."
He turned his head to meet her gaze.
"You're not that kid anymore. You haven't been for a long time. You're… you're the guy who stayed up all night helping me rehearse for the Aftermath. You're the guy who remembers how I take my coffee. You're the guy who held my hand when the cameras weren't rolling." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're the only real thing in this whole fake city."
Ezekiel felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He covered her hand with his, holding it against his face. "Then let's keep it real. Just for tonight. No Chris. No show. No timeline."
"Just us," Gwen agreed.
She leaned in. Ezekiel met her halfway.
The kiss wasn't like the ones on camera. It wasn't staged for a close-up. It wasn't timed for a commercial break. It was slow, tentative at first, then deeper as the tension of the past few weeks melted away. It tasted like mint and cold air and honesty.
For a moment, the weight of the future lifted. The secret agent Izzy, the angry Heather, the crumbling teams… none of it mattered. There was just the warmth of Gwen's hand in his, the softness of her hair against his neck, the steady rhythm of her breathing.
When they pulled apart, neither of them moved away. They stayed forehead-to-forehead, breathing the same air.
"Wow," Gwen whispered, a genuine laugh in her voice. "Okay. That… that was worth the wait."
Ezekiel grinned, a wide, goofy smile that he usually tried to hide. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."
"Don't get used to it," Gwen teased, though she didn't pull away. "We still have a show to host tomorrow. Noah's probably already burning the set down."
"Probably," Ezekiel agreed. "Eva might have thrown someone into the pool by now."
"Mr. Coconut is likely running the show better than both of them combined."
They laughed together, the sound echoing softly in the empty space. Ezekiel checked his watch. "We got ten minutes before Eva sends out a search party."
"Ten minutes is enough," Gwen said. She stood up, brushing the grass off her jeans. Ezekiel stood with her, folding up his hoodie.
As they walked back toward the studio, the dynamic had shifted. It wasn't a secret anymore, not really. But it wasn't public property either. It belonged to them. A quiet understanding in a loud world.
When they slipped back into the hallway, the sounds of the Aftermath show were wrapping up. They could hear Noah's voice drifting through the door.
"…and that's our show. Remember, if you see Izzy, don't approach her. She's technically a federal agent now. Or something. Whatever. Goodnight."
Ezekiel and Gwen exchanged a look. They waited in the shadows until the audience applause faded and the "Cut!" command was heard.
They entered the studio just as the lights were coming up. Noah was closing his book. Eva was stretching. Mr. Coconut was being wheeled off by an intern.
"You're late," Noah said without looking up. "Eva was about to bench press the security guard."
"I would have," Eva confirmed, nodding seriously.
"Sorry, eh," Ezekiel said, trying to keep the grin off his face. "Got held up."
Gwen nudged him. "Traffic."
Noah finally looked up. He saw the way Gwen's hair was slightly messy. He saw the way Ezekiel's hoodie was folded neatly over Gwen's arm instead of his own. He saw the look in their eyes.
He sighed, closing his book with a snap. "You know, for people who claim to be hiding it, you two are terrible at subtlety."
Gwen's cheeks flushed, but she didn't deny it. "Is that a problem?"
"Not for me," Noah shrugged. "Less work for me to pretend I don't see it. Just keep it out of the highlight reel. Chris will try to monetize it."
"We know," Ezekiel said.
Mr. Coconut, from his wheelchair, gave a single, slow nod. It felt like a blessing.
"Next week," Eva said, standing up and cracking her neck. "Back to normal hosting. You two ready?"
Gwen looked at Ezekiel. He looked back at her. There was a new strength there. A solidity.
"Ready," Gwen said.
"Ready, eh," Ezekiel confirmed.
As they walked off the set together, hand in hand this time, no longer hiding in the shadows of the hallway, Ezekiel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in either timeline. The game was still crazy. The challenges were getting harder. The world was changing in ways he couldn't predict.
But he wasn't facing it alone.
"Hey, Zeke?" Gwen asked as they reached the exit.
"Yeah?"
"Next time we sneak out… let's bring food. I'm starving."
Ezekiel laughed. "Deal. I know a place. Best poutine in the city. No cameras."
"Perfect," Gwen said.
They stepped out into the night, leaving the studio lights behind. Inside, Noah watched them go, a rare, small smile touching his lips.
"Disgusting," he muttered to Mr. Coconut.
Mr. Coconut nodded.
"Exactly," Noah said.