I glance at Yumi, who is taking a break to look absolutely distraught. She rests her forearm on the fence, and her forehead on her forearm. She needs this to be over, and so do I.
In Season 13, the oft-mockedCelebrity Adventureverse, the contestants were regularly recognized during challenges. One of the teams, a pair of twins who were DJs, used that to their advantage. They befriended a local seeking an autograph and turnedhim into a tour guide and challenge assistant. While not technically illegal, it did piss the superfans off to see already rich and famous people use their fame to get even more rich. But I’m not rich or famous, I am just a poor girl suffering in the rain. So, hopefully the fans will not judge me too harshly.
Yumi calls after me as I walk away, but I just wave her off.
“Take your pictures,” the man proclaims. “Show your friends and family how incredible the French are at using construction vehicles!”
The tourists laugh but wander off to take pictures anyway, and I take this opportunity to sidle up to the man. He looks down at me as I step under his umbrella, amused but watchful.
“If you’re a pickpocket, you’re not a very good one,” he says quietly. It’s easier to hear, shielded from the rain. His Southern accent disappears as he notices Bo and Petter following me at a distance. “What’s this about?”
“I’m in a competition for a million dollars?” I respond, posing the classicAdventureversedog whistle like a riddle he might know the answer to.
His eyes light up. “For TV?”
I nod.
“Oh, sick. Is it that show?Adventure Worldor something?”
“Or something,” I say. “How would your tourists like to help with a special, unique Parisian activity?” I feel like a used car salesman, half-skeevy, half-genius.
His eyes flick to the other teams. “You’re competing with them?”
I glance at Bo, who I know can hear our mics in his ear. He nods. “We are,” I confirm.
“Are you winning?”
I purse my lips. “We aren’t.”
“Perfect!” He pushes his hood back, revealing a head of curly brown hair. “Love an underdog. Tourists live for this sort of thing. Huge tip potential. Can we keep the locks?”
“I have to double-check with the production team, but that’s fine with me.”
He extends a hand. “I’m Shea. Ignore the Southern accent. They love it,” he whispers. “Friends!” He theatrically (and Southernly) intones into his megaphone, summoning the group taking pictures of the same scaffolding we have in the US. “Wonderful news! My colleague here has offered us the opportunity to help with a unique Parisian experience, free of charge!”
I lead them back to Yumi, who watches me with undisguised awe. “Good, right?” I ask, bumping a hip into hers. It’s not exactly contact, given the several layers of thick, waterproof fabric between us, but it’s something.
With the rain finally slowing enough to hear over, she’s able to answer me without screaming. “Better than good.” She shakes her head. “Incredible, Noe. Thank you.”
I flush, ducking my head. “It had to be done. I was on the verge of jumping off the bridge.”
“Hey, that’s cheating,” Clyde of Team Ball-and-Chain complains, rapping his bolt cutters against the balustrades of the bridge until a producer finally pays attention to him.
“No, it isn’t. Please don’t attack the bridge,” Aliona pipes up from the safety of the production tent, but it does nothing to stop the man’s tirade.
“You’re telling me we can just make other people do it for us? Well, what the hell? Why have I been doing it myself this whole time?”
His wife stays surprisingly silent, considering she’s been the one operating the bolt cutters while Clyde supervises hatefully. He attempts to coerce passersby, shaking his bolt cutters at them menacingly as they speed-walk out of his vicinity.
In complete contrast, Shea is doing his best carnival barker impression, inviting people from his group to step right up. He tells them to choose their lock carefully, stressing that this is an unmissable opportunity to cut ties with a toxic ex or send a sign to the universe that your buddy’s girlfriend is “horrible and wrong for him,Isabella.” He says this last part directly into the camera, and I know theAdventureverseproduction team is already in love with this guy. If they don’t offer him a spot next season, I’ll be shocked.
“Think of it,” he says in his terrible fake Southern accent, “as a souvenir.”
With each lock removed, Shea plucks it from the tourist’s hand and announces, “Rip to K.B. and S.P.! Another gift for the garbage gods!” before handing the lock back. One by one, members of his group take their turn, all of them grinning through sweat as metal finally slices metal. Each one of them radiates with pride as they hang busted locks off fanny packs and belt loops.
As the last lock falls away, Shea raises his arms triumphantly, declaring, “And just like that, love is dead!”
We’re already geared up to go, but Yumi takes an extra secondwith Shea. “Thank you.” Yumi grabs his hand in both of hers and squeezes. “Really, thank you.”
