Chapter Text
Max loved pretending.
When he was ten he got to take the subject drama in class. When parent-teacher interviews came around, Max’s drama teacher was the only one to say anything actually nice about him.
Encouraged by the praise, the ten-year-old begun to work harder and harder on his acting. He spent hours with his twin sister running lines, practising in front of the mirror and reciting his scripts in the shower.
His work paid off when, two years later, he got the lead in the school musical. Max enjoyed ten weeks of rehearsals. His teachers had never seen him so well-behaved in class. Many assumed he was simply tired from all the practises. Little did they know that Max was finally receiving the attention most 12-year-olds were used to. The young actor was simply behaving how he thought appropriate with so many people noticing him.
No one at home ever noticed Max.
Which was why this play was so important to him. For ninety minutes, his entire family would come to see him, and only him on stage doing what he loved.
That was the first time Max saw his dad smile at him. The first time he could feel the pride swell in his chest, and not have it crushed by looking behind him and seeing his sister Pheobe, who was almost always the sole object of his parent’s affection.
Max went to bed that night with a smile on his face. There were voices in his head when he drifted to sleep, voices that sounded oddly like his parents.
He’s gotten too good at lying, Hank. You know how dangerous that can be with someone- well… someone like him.
What do we do then? Pull him from drama altogether?
I don’t feel safe when we can’t control him Hank.
Max was still coming down from his adrenaline high on Monday, his final show being the previous Saturday night. He was heading to drama, his first and favourite class of the day when a gentle hand around his upper arm stopped him. He turned to see Pheobe, a warm smile shining in her oblivious eyes. She told Max that he was taking history with her now instead of drama.
Max asked his parents why they had switched his subjects that night.
His parents told him to drop it,
So he did.
Max loved pretending, and he began to do it more and more after he was pulled out of drama. It was fun for him, seeing how far he could take a lie.
Yes, mum, I brushed my teeth.
No, dad, I didn't break Phoebe's hairbrush.
Yes, mum, I took out the trash.
No, dad, I didn't let Colosso out of his cage.
Yes, mum, I'll be back by ten.
No, dad, I wasn't with anyone else.
Yes, mum, I'll be more careful next time.
No, dad, I don't have a deathwish.
Max loved pretending.
Pretending that he had done his chores,
Pretending that he was being a good son,
Pretending that he was happy,
Pretending he was okay.
- x - x -
“Where are your pants?”
The door shut behind him with a soft click as Max entered the house, turning to face his thoroughly confused twin sister.
“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was up.”
Phoebe watched her bedraggled, pantsless brother amble past her into the kitchen. Despite his exhausted appearance, Max almost seemed to be floating with happiness.
Phoebe hated that this was a foreign side of Max. That she didn’t recognise this emotion right away as happy. Was Max ever happy around them?
“You apologised.”
Max paused, glass of water raised to his mouth.
“Huh?”
“You said sorry. You never say sorry.”
Phoebe’s brow furrowed even more as she watched Max put down his drink and let out a small laugh that, if she dared, could even be described as a giggle.
“Oh… sorry”
Only then did she notice the slight flush on his cheeks and the glint in his eyes.
He wasn’t just happy, she realised.
Phoebe’s twin brother was in love.
“Hey, Max?” Her eyes met his as he gave her an inquisitive look. “Remind me, where were you tonight?”
The short haired teen finished his glass of water and placed it inside the sink, giving Phoebe a lazy grin paired with a wink as he walked past her, exiting the kitchen. She could have sworn she heard another airy giggle, a whisper of laughter which pierced the silent rooms but held no echo.
Leaning against her kitchen table, Phoebe watched her brother disappear into his lair, a goofy smile present on his lips and a relaxed, gentle light in his eyes.
For once, Phoebe didn’t care about whatever stupid prank Max had pulled that night, it didn’t matter to her where he had been.
He was happy, and that was already more than Phoebe could have ever hoped for her brother.