"Apple, take us somewhere there isn't a camera."

Apple stared at her, uncomprehending, as she swallowed a bite of egg. "What? Why?"

"We need to talk."

"What about? How awesome this quiche is?" Apple took a big bite of the pastry, filling her cheeks like a chipmunk. Her plate in front of her was way overfilled like her cheeks, relative to the plates that surrounded them in the hotel mess hall.

She never overfilled like that on Marsh's own food, so that made her all the more annoyed as she said "How about you guess again?"

"Is it the pancakes? Oh, is it the fact that that girl over there put marshmallows in her hot chocolate? I could fight her for you-"

"Try again."

"Oh. Wait... The interviews are today, right?"

Marsh could hear the sound of her own groan even over the din of other eating contestants around them. Hotel OJ's dining room was a lot more packed than Marsh ever remembered it being, but then again, there were a lot of new contestants from the second season to fill it.

"How on Earth do you forget the date? Interviews start in under an hour! You're first!"

"I am?"

"Your name starts with the letter A. They're doing it alphabetically."

"Oh. Well, sorry. Do they offer to-go boxes?" Marsh glared. "...Okay, fine. I'll take it rebel-style."

Apple carried her plate with her. Marsh followed, carrying only stress in her heart.

Interviews.

There would be over a million people watching them, and the obsessive fans would analyze her every word, movement, inflection. Anything that didn't fall in line with it was cause for death by paparazzi overexposure.

It wasn't such a big deal in between seasons, or when she was joining season one in the first place.

She hadn't been hiding anything then, after all.

'One more mess-up after yesterday's, and we're history. It's that simple.'

Apple opened a door and pushed Marsh in. It was super dark, and Marsh was crushed against what felt like a wall. Apple pushed in beside her and shut the door, then pulled a chain.

They were practically touching. A few brooms sat in one corner, hardly a foot away from Marsh.

"...A broom closet? Really?"

"It's not that small," Apple argued through a mouthful of pancake.

'It's not how small it is that bothers me,' Marsh thought, 'it's the fact that we're going to be caught on film heading into a tiny broom closet together. Then walking out together several minutes later.'

The closet was just big enough for personal space, but Apple still sat pressed flush against her side, a hand wrapping around her wrist. "What do you need?"

Marsh crossed her arms and got straight to the point: "You have to be careful about what you say on stage, because the guy who's asking you stuff gets paid more if he causes drama. That means not mentioning that we've kissed, or that we've shared a bed, or... well, anything too familiar."

"Oh. Okay."

"That also means not talking about me too much," Marsh continued, "or too familiarly. I mean... 'Marshmallow' and 'Marsh' are fine, but 'Marshy' is pushing it. And 'Marsh-Marsh' or anything along the line of 'sweet'? Unacceptable.'"

"Well, I like saying your full name so much that's hardly a concern."

"But if he asks you a question about me, don't dodge it unless you seriously can't answer without jeopardizing this whole plan. If you keep avoiding the subject, that'll make them suspicious."

"Wait, what's 'jeopardizing'?"

"Risking ruining it."

"Ahh. Right."

"And don't try to get my attention when I'm up."

"Yeah."

Marsh's eyes narrowed. "You're awful quiet. You aren't going to go out there and forget everything, are you?"

"I know this matters to you, even if I don't get why." Apple pecked her cheek. "Just worry about yourself; you got this!"

Marsh's heartbeat sped up. "Don't make me blush, the camera'll see if I look pink."

Secretly, though, okay, maybe it did make her smile in a way that was hard to resist. In a way that quelled her nerves and added to them in equal measure.

Then Apple got back to munching on food.

Marsh stood up with a sigh. "Anyway, I guess it's time for us to get out of here."

A swallow. "Everything'll be A-OK!"

Hesitating for just a second, Marsh got on her toes and pecked Apple's lips. It lasted hardly a second, but Apple's mouth remained an "o," for several seconds after, a blush visible on her cheeks.

Marsh looked away. "...For luck."

Apple blinked a few times, stunned. Then she looked down, chuckling shyly. "Yeah. Luck..."

XXX

Apple's audition had gone, somehow, swimmingly. The glossy guy interviewing her, a yellow tabloid magazine, didn't seem to ask too many invasive questions. Just stuff like...

'What are your thoughts on the rumors that you murdered Marshmallow at the mansion?'

'Have you dated anyone since leaving the show?'

'How did you feel that night Marshmallow came out of nowhere and took you to the mansion?'

Stuff about Marsh that Apple could've fallen for if she hadn't been briefed on it. It wasn't an awe-inspiring performance, but Marsh couldn't help but feel a bit proud.

And then she counted her lucky stars, because it was downhill fast. Tabloid was brutal.

Balloon was grilled over how he treated his obsessive fans, and rumors that he and Suitcase were an item. Balloon handled them with shouting and surprising stride.

Cheesy was chastised for his attempts at humor with a huge demo reel of all his failed comedy routines.

Knife wound up walking offstage he was so frustrated with Tabloid's persistent pries into his personal life.

Lightbulb was unphased by questions about her and Paintbrush's home life as roommates even as Paintbrush groaned and irately asked, "Seriously?!" at every other question.

Lightbulb was one of the only contestants to walk out of it smiling. L was followed by M in the alphabet... particularly M-A-R-

"Next up is... Marshmallow!"

There was thunderous applause almost unprecedented. Marsh stared at the huge crowd as she stepped out into the spotlight; unsure as to how to react, she waved awkwardly, smile plainly giving away her nerves.

'At least five thousand people. No... correction. Five thousand plus however many thousand people are watching live at home... and all the ones who are recording this. Plus the ones who'll hear from word of mouth There could be a million people listening live alone.'

One red form, perched in between the sleeping form of MePhone4 and the slouching, pouty form of Balloon in the front row of seats, stood out to her. She gave a tiny wave, giving one of those smiles Marsh liked so much.

It hardly quelled her nerves.

She climbed up the stool and sat, crossing her arms. Her heart raced on overdrive, nerves making her mouth dry. Tabloid gave her a distinctly sleazy grin.

'Can't mess this up. I have to get this right.'

"So, Marshmallow, I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't really looking forward to seeing you."

He was even more horrible up close, with that sickly yellow cover and shiny pages. Marsh replied, "Whatever."

"Where to even start with you? You have an extraordinary story. That contributes to your fan favorite status. Apple said earlier that things were normal at the mansion... What went through your head when you took Apple there? Did you honestly expect her to forgive you?"

"I didn't expect it," Marsh replied tersely. "You don't just expect someone to forgive you after all that. But what's important is that you try, and she had a forgiving enough heart to try with me."

There were a few cheers in the crowd. Tabloid clapped his hands lightly.

'So far so good.'

"The footage we've gotten of you two in the past few days shows you care about her a lot. Tell us, how close are you two these days?"

"We're like best friends," Marsh replied quickly.

Perhaps too quickly.

Tabloid smiled, his hands coming to his heart. "How nice. But I'm fairly sure that isn't the truth."

'There it is.'

Marsh cleared her throat. "Excuse me? She's my best friend, along with Bow."

Tabloid raised both eyebrows, giving an "are you serious?" smirk. "Oh my... Well, I question your definition of best friend, then. We have some... choice footage of you two."

Her stomach dropped.

'Crap.'

She took a deep breath and said, in her most sickly sweet tone, "How silly. You're saying you have something that doesn't exist."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"You're catering to the lowest common denominator for a quick buck. I wouldn't trust your judgement."

His smile remained, like the slimy residue left from cleaning a table. "You're insulting the man who holds your secrets in one hand and several million people's perceptions of you in the other. I'd be careful, if I were you."

Sweat beaded at Marsh's brow.

'He's trying to psyche you out. There's no way he knows anything.'

"I have nothing to be careful of." She glanced at Apple, who gave a little thumbs-up, then added, "I thought I was a fan favorite. If the only dirt you have on me is what you think Apple and I's relationship is, y-you must be even worse at this than I thought."

Tabloid snapped his fingers.

The telescreen turned into a hot pink screen, with hearts all over it. At the center were Apple and Marshmallow inside of a white heart.

"Marshple" was written across the bottom in ornate white text outlined in red.

All that Marsh could think was, 'Not this crap.'

"Is time for a segment: 'Marshple: Is Anything on this Show Real?'"

'You have to be kidding. They title it that.'

On the upper corners of the screens, live feeds of the two of them appeared. Apple looked slightly startled.

'Depending on what footage they have, this could be it.'

"You're second-rate and everyone knows it. Nothing you say will affect me at all b-because these rumors have been around for years, okay? They aren't true. Y-you'll make a fool of yourself if you roll the clips... Because they won't prove anything."

Tabloid's smirk was nothing if not dastardly.

"Roll them."

The clips rolled quick, an awful, cheesy, romantic saxophone tune blasting from the speakers all the while. Apple's smooth transition into the slow dance, and the momentarily awestruck expression Marsh had. Apple and Marsh sitting way too close while drawing. Apple talking to Soap about her: "Marsh is so cool, she's the best contestant ever."

"Marshmallow! I knew you couldn't stay away!" From the night they arrived at the reunion.

Marsh's stomach dropped.

The snapshot Fan took.

Them linking arms at the party.

The two of them emerging from that broom closet, Marsh blushing slightly and Apple grinning dopily.

Then it ended off on a grainy photo of what looked to be them holding hands at Walmart. The only thing that remained of the previous shot was the live feeds of the two of them.

"Tell me, Marshmallow... Did you two look like friends in those?"

Silence engulfed the audience. Marsh's heart raced, panic tying her tongue. Her eyes darted around: the crowd, Tabloid, the telescreen, Apple's guilty-looking grin from the front row.

"You're looking too deeply into it. Friends hang out all the time," Marsh eventually got out.

It was a weak response when a million people knew you walked out of a literal closet with your best friend just that morning. Oh Marsh, why did she have to kiss her?

"Really," Tabloid said dryly, then put up his hand as if to snap. "We have more clips to air if you don't produce an actual explanation soon."

'The stage would swallow me up and give me a tail right now in a perfect world.'

The crowd never seemed so big. Not during the season, not during the reunion. A stone was practically lodged in her throat. She opened her mouth, perhaps to try and speak, but a different voice spoke:

"You got us."

All eyes shifted to Apple, who was suddenly on her feet. She marched over to the stage, then climbed up. She snatched the microphone from Marsh and cleared her throat.

"But all I can say is, what'd you expect? I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with the cutest girl I've ever seen. How could I resist myself?"

There was pure silence for a moment. Then there were a few cheers.

"So many great things to talk about. Where do I even begin.

Marsh's jaw dropped as Apple stepped between her and the crowd. "Anyway, not much goes on at the mansion, really. But if you have any questions, find me and I shall answer them! And I can answer some here!"

"Things are super cool! Marsh makes some great cookies, and she taught me a lot of new words, too." She twirled the microphone's cord in her fingers and added shyly, "And... She's amazing."

A huge cheer from the crowd.

"'Just come form a line and I'll answer your questions!"

A couple of brave, yet hesitant audience members approached the stage. Tabloid looked utterly cowed.

Apple turned to Marsh and gave her a determined look that seemed to say, 'I'll take this from here. We'll talk later.'

Marsh couldn't help but stare, mouth hanging open, for just a second. Some kind of strange, warm feeling came over her - admiration? Gratefulness? Something different?

Then she skedaddled.

XXX

The roof of Hotel OJ was flat, with a few pieces of furniture built into it and nothing but a short wall separating Marsh from falling five stories down.

'How'd she even do that?'

Marsh was standing on one of the cement chairs and resting her arms on the flat top of the wall, eyes scanning over... well, everything. The way the wind made the grass billow like a green sea, the sound of leaves hitting one another in the orange trees beside the hotel, the fact that the sky was blue and the clouds were white and moving...

None of that ever happened at Purgatory Mansion.

'I can't believe I let everything get out like that.'

'I can't believe everyone knows. Marsh, that's embarrassing.'

'I can't believe I left Apple to finish my interview. That was pathetic.'

There were no cameras on that section of roof; Marsh had irrationally found herself checking when she picked a place. It was all she could do to think.

'I bungled that up. And yet I was the one being strict to Apple about not revealing it...'

'Apple handled that so well.'

There was the sound of a door sliding open. Marsh glanced up to see the Apple walk out. She scanned the area before approaching Marsh.

She hesitated for a second before wrapping her arms around Marsh from behind.

"...Marsh, I know what you're thinking. And we'll get to it. But first... Are you okay?"

There was a little silence. "...I've never been put on the spot like that before. But surprisingly... even though my nerves are shot, I'm okay."

"Oh. ...Still, I'm real sorry, Marsh. I should've kept my big mouth shut."

"It was all my fault. I caved so fast, and left you to put up with it. Speaking off..." Marsh twisted in her arms to meet her gaze. "How is it in there?"

"Everyone's real accepting. They're saying, what's the word, congrats."

"Really? Nobody's mean at all?"

"Not a single body," Apple affirmed. "The other contestants are all real chill about it, for the most part. The reporters are excited, but Paintbrush is distracting them for now."

"Paintbrush... How did Paintbrush react?"

"We didn't really talk. Said it'd be a talking point the week that you two visit at the mansion, whatever that means ...On that note, maybe it's best if you hang up here 'till they all calm down a bit."

"...Right. T-thanks for checking on me."

Apple gave her a reassuring squeeze. "No problem. I... wanted to make sure you didn't hate me for what I did earlier."

"Hate?!"

"Well, I did do the opposite of what you told me to. I didn't think you would hate me, but you were angry at me yesterday, with how I handled Fan's picture. And I did take you into that broom closet-"

"I don't hate you," Marsh interrupted. "Why would we have a truce if it got broken that easily?"

'If anything, it's starting to be the opposite of hate.'

The thought startled Marsh. Her hand hesitantly rose to one of Apple's hands, holding her down with no force.

"I-I'm not even mad, just stressed. If anything, you should be mad at me for chickening out while you do your best." Marsh averted her gaze. "I'm so sorry I've been so weird and mean lately."

"It's okay." Apple flashed a grin. "You do your best."

"But you were clearly unhappy. As uncomfy as it made me, I should've let you reveal us sooner."

Apple picked her up in a hug. "There's nothing to be sorry about. You were looking out for us. And now it's my turn to look out for us. I'll handle the reporters from now on."

"Really?"

"I like feeling like a fan favorite, and I know you don't like reporters. Why should I make you do it?"

Marsh couldn't help the smile that came to her face, the first un-nervous one in days. "Gee, Apple... this reunion you've really thrown me for a loop."

"How?"

Marsh made Apple put her down and gesticulated. "How haven't you? You're doing it right now! How are you never embarrassed by anything? How are you able to talk to a million people without clamming up?!"

"It's nothing special, Marsh. Just being shameless." Apple snickered. "If someone hates me for it, so what? Lots of people hate me!"

"...I'm impressed. I could never say that so calmly."

Apple blushed vividly and hid her face away, her smile huge.

"You... me?" A voice crack. "Golly Marshmallow, it's not like it was anything special! Just speakin' off the cuff... You could do better... I-I..."

Marsh barely suppressed a giggle. "I compliment you for being smooth and you instantly become a blushy mess? You're strange."

'Our whole relationship is strange.'

"But... I wouldn't have it any other way."

It was a mere few minutes of calm in a day of discord before Apple had to dive back into the reporters, but it did offer a toasty feeling. Not anything painful like being blackened and made into a s'more, but just enough warmth to leave an impression.

'Thank you.'