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“Marry me,” Chloe said. Loudly.
All the gallery crowd that had been previously engrossed in the photo displays, falling face first into Max’s work, turned to look at the two of them. This hadn’t been on the program for tonight.
Max’s eyes widened with shock. The guests Max was talking to, a high roller power couple, stilled. Max’s art patron off at her side, Ms. Simpson, raised her white eyebrows with piercings shining through them at Chloe.
They could have laughed it off if Max and Chloe both hadn’t caught the seriousness in Chloe’s voice, the heavy weight in it, and if everyone else hadn’t noticed the sudden gravity in the way the two stared at each other. Ms. Simpson’s eyebrows raised further.
Max looked at Chloe confused, clearly chancing for an explanation. But Chloe was too busy staring at Max with a dull horror slacking her face, and a sort of dead terror in her eyes. She looked like she was having sleep paralysis. They stared at each other, and Max took Chloe’s face in. Chloe gulped, her throat moving heavily around empty air.
Then Max’s hands were moving before she knew it. The flash wasn’t needed, the gallery lights had been rewired for a natural effect, and she knew how to bring out a sunlight glow on Chloe’s face (she could shoot Chloe’s cheekbones in her sleep) in many lightings.
The camera clacked and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman raise a hand to her mouth, clearly expecting a scene. Max slowly lowered the camera, and both her and Chloe stared at each other, horrified.
Making it worse, the polaroid cheerfully whirred as it creeped out of her camera, and in a haze of muscle memory, Max’s hands flicked it out and shook it.
As the plastic flapped and wobbled, Max heard someone mutter a breathless What the Fuck? in the crowd.
“W-What was that?”, Chloe said, “That’s your response?”
She sounded irritated, but that’s what Chloe resorted to when she was scared and overwhelmed. Max knew that well but today she couldn’t help herself.
“What, me?” Max said, hand hesitating on where to put the polaroid in her fancy black dress, “Well, what was that, that’s your plan to propose?”
Oh my god, someone murmured.
“I-No it wasn’t my plan to propose! I’ve had this thing in my pocket for six months!” Chloe said, instinctively pulling out a thin leather photo binder from a suit pocket, and reaching out a hand for the photo.
“The photo binder?” Max said frowning, exchanging the photo for the mini binder, “You got me that last year.”
Max cracked the binder open, and took the photo from Chloe’s hand. She slid it in one of the plastic sleeves.
“Not the binder, fucks’ sake,” Chloe said, slipping the binder back into her jacket, and pulling out a film reel in it’s box and sheath. She put it back when Max shook her head. Ms. Simpson snorted into her champagne glass. Chuckles were heard here and there in the crowd.
“This,” Chloe said, and Max gasped at the silver ring. The crowd held its breath, and leaned forward.
She moves into Chloe’s arms, and they look at the ring together. A simple silver band, a groove circling through the centre. A quiet promise. Steady and unwavering
“Chloe, it’s beautiful…”
“It’s…it's my mom’s. My dad gave it to her when he proposed,” Chloe said.
Max inhaled sharply, and stopped moving.
“We might not talk much anymore, but she always liked you…” Chloe said, but Max didn’t even hear it.
“Mr. Price proposed with this ring?” Max said numbly, eyes tearing up.
Chloe swallowed heavily, eyes watery. She nodded.
“Yeah,” she sniffed, “He’d tease me about you, even back then. Said he couldn’t wait to stand next to me at the altar...”
“He’d be proud of you,” Chloe finished shakily.
“I love you,” Max said, voice cracking, hand covering her mouth.
“I love you so much, I,” Chloe said. She looked around. She straightened as she realised where they were. She pulled Max close to her, hunching under the gaze of the crowd.
“This isn’t how I planned it,” Chloe whispered.
“You planned it?” Max said, eyes twinkling.
“Of course I planned it!” Chloe said, “I was gonna take you on-anyways-I’m not, I mean-”
“I wanted to do it right, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I kind of did, I’m sorry, I fucked up b-” Chloe said, tugging on the collar of her tie and squeezing it in her fist.
“No, no, no, I’ll wait, I’ll wait! You know my answer,” Max said, straightening Chloe’s tie, running her hands up and down her arms.
Chloe sighed. “Don’t ruin the suspense,” she murmured, looking away but Max caught the relieved smile.
“But why now,” Max said, giggling, “Why so abruptly, why tonight?”
Chloe opened her mouth, and then shut it. She turned to glare at the crowd. The crowd was unmoved. She somehow noticed more cameras than people. Ms. Simpson had a cheshire smile and her arm around a young blonde caterer, who was dutifully holding out her champagne platter.
She sighed and wiped her hand down her face.
“Fucking LA…”
“It’s good publici-,” Max simpered.
“Shut up,” Chloe muttered, fighting off a smile.
“I just…I’d never seen you like that, I guess.” Chloe said quietly.
“You were laughing and talking to like three different people, and four years ago Warren practically had to use a crowbar to get you to talk to him,” Chloe said.
“Granted, it was Warren and he’s not me and-” Chloe added, shrugging and smirking.
“Focus,” Max whispered, laughing.
Chloe said, “Even when we got here, even after getting big, you always wimped out at galleries, Ms. Simpson had to drag you out everytime.”
“But tonight?” Chloe shrugged. She looked to the side. “You were amazing. Everyone was thinking it.”
She turned to eye the crowd. A good number of them nodded vigorously. Max hunched into her shoulders, making Chloe snort.
“When you were gone, it felt like I just stopped,” Chloe said, “Yeah, there was more to it, but when you came back, it felt like I could finally move on. Go somewhere else, be more. And we did that. And tonight I was standing there, and I realised maybe I did that for you too. Just like you did for me.”
Chloe slipped the ring back into its box and put it in her jacket.
“And I want to see you be more, I want to be part of the reason you push yourself like you do,” Chloe said, “I guess I’m greedy but…”
She swallowed, and brought her hand up cupped Max’s cheek. “I just…I missed five years already, I didn’t want to miss anything else.”
The crowd sighed as Max pulled her in for a kiss.
“You’re really gonna have to one up this when you do propose,” she murmured into the kiss.
The crowd started clapping. Chloe winced, and flipped them off. Ms. Simpson barked a laugh, and pulled her caterer closer.
Chloe stalked off to the coat room, resignedly accepting the cameras trying to make out with her and the back slaps and handshakes forced on her.
Max slipped over to her patron.
“I can…retire for tonight, right?” Max said.
Ms. Simpson smirked.
“You can retire for three months, kid, after tonight I don’t need you for a long while,” she said.
Max squinted.
“Four?” she said.
Ms. Simpson simply raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, Janie, let the girl go,” the blonde caterer murmured.
Ms. Simpson sighed.
“The things I do for love,” Ms. Simpson said, ignoring the caterer’s eye roll, “Four.”
She handed Max her half drunk champagne flute, and walked off hand in hand with her girlfriend.
“You never propose to me like that anymore…,” Max heard the caterer whisper as they walked off.
Max glanced down at the photo she’d taken out of instinct. Chloe’s shoulders were stiff, and her hands were tight against her sides. She looked like a soldier. Stand at attention. Something spiteful curled in Max’s chest against David.
There was so much fear in Chloe’s eyes, more than nervousness.
Max turned to look at Chloe, in the dead, dust filled, yellow lit air of the gallery coat room, tugging their coats off and draping them on her arm. She was so tall, towering over the room.
But she’d kept Max’s on a lower hook incase Max needed hers while she wasn’t there to get it.
Chloe turned to Max, hand resting on top of the coats.
A quiet smile bloomed on Chloe’s face as she walked towards Max, ignoring congratulations and pats on the back with a love sick haze. As she did, she caught the light of a gallery spotlight.
Max Caulfield raised her camera.