Chapter Text
“So, what?” His voice is dry, and any moment now it is going to crack. “That's it? We're done?” His eyes are glaring at her in pointed frustration, but she doesn't know if its for her, or at himself.
Max could feel the tears about to fall. How dare he make her feel bad, though. How dare he actually try to guilt trip her over everything he's done to her! “I don't deserve any of this,” she sighs through rattled breath, and she looks up with an anger equal to his own.
For a moment, she sees a flash of pain flicker through his gaze, but it ends quickly, and he's back on the defense.
“You're right.” He grinds his teeth, “you don't.” He spits it out – like knives. She feels the pain surge through her and at her heart.
Her own anger is bubbling inside her as he says those final words, but before she has anything else to say, he steps on the gas, and his red truck is gone.
Max cursed him.
“What the hell...?” The brunette breathed in heavily as she fluttered her eyes open in confusion and annoyance.
What kind of dream was that? She groaned to herself as the last remaining bits played in her head, mocking her over and over again.
It's been three years, and this was just a sudden memory that came out of nowhere. The breakup with her longest relationship was something she really needed to forget, and how uncool was it to come back to her in a dream? She grimaced.
“No, Max Caulfield. You do not dream about exes, and you certainly do not dream about asshole exes.” She mumbled to herself in agitation, and stared at the ceiling, contemplating on the last time she had seen her ex-boyfriend of 5 years. It was just three years ago – on an August 15th to be exact, only three, but enough to let the feelings of hurt go.
It was August 27th now, and oh God, it was almost his birthday too. Max cringed at the thought of all these useless information coming onto her. Everything was just way too sudden.
She shook her head at even the thought of picturing what he was doing right now; a trip to memory lane was never a good trip unless she had acquired fame and could use the pain and agonizing experience for her own needs – that's what she thought, at least.
Max shut her eyes tightly at the new memories that were invading her thoughts. Grabbing a pillow she squeezed it hard, and pressed it against her face with a hope she'd at least squander something away. “Come on, go back to sleep.” She frowned with her voice muffled by the pillow in her grasp. “Go back to sleep.” She tried to force herself, but she could feel sleep slipping away from her. She groaned.
It was going to be a long night.
And a long night it was.
Max knew she was a goner the moment she pressed “snooze” on her alarm clock. She knew she had the bad habit of sleeping through the second ring, especially when it was a Saturday; when it was her time off – when all she wanted to do was sleep – especially after last night's rude nightmare.
But Fate was mean, and a week ago, Fate got her and her friend, Chloe, to schedule a movie date on this very Saturday, and God forbid not meeting up with Chloe. That was a law she couldn't ignore.
In fact, the moment her brain reminded her of their meet up– which she realized a good several minutes later – which was actually 30 minutes later – she stumbled out of bed, put on any clothes she could find laying around and dashed for it. Goodbye healthy brunch! Goodbye peaceful morning!
Hello mayhem.
Max groaned inwardly as she sloppily put makeup on while she rode the shaking bus to her destination. She looked like a zombie no matter how much foundation and concealer she applied – her dark circles only seemed to fade a fraction, and her lips were chapped – and of course her luck would coincidentally have her chap-stick missing from her bag. And no way was she going to put eyeliner. And, oh, God. She looked so horrible. She didn't even want to comment on her getup – a baggy sweater that smelled like her crummy apartment swallowed her entire frame, and a pretty wrinkly, pleated flannel skirt helped her look like a mess.
“Well, you kind of deserve this,” the brunette bit her lip and shoved her foundation back inside her purse. “Karma.” She sighed, and pulled out her cellphone – great, Chloe called about 3 times the last few minutes and the vibration on her phone was off.
“Girl, where the hell have you been?” Chloe's voice sounded agitated as soon as she called back, and she could practically envision her friend crossing her arms and tapping her foot the way she always gets when she feels let down. “I've been waiting here for, like, FOREVER.” Her voice was shaking – filled with hurt.
“I'm so, so sorry, Chloe.” Max let out a tired sigh. Even though she wasn't feeling it, she knew she had to apologize – it was her fault, and it was pretty lame of her to leave her friend alone. “I just...”
“Let me guess, you ignored your alarm.” Chloe knew her well. “It's almost 12, Max! I mean, I'd get it if it was like 8AM in the morning, but it's almost noon, and you know how I've been waiting for this day!”
Max had to roll her eyes on this one. Chloe was obviously exaggerating about this horror movie. She had counted down since the time the first commercials were released, and hadn't let Max off the hook about it for months!
What kind of horror movie was it for her best-friend to be so thrilled? If it wasn't a B-Movie it still couldn't be that good, could it? Max let out an inward groan as she thought of the plenty of films she watched before that left her rather disappointed. She rather make fun of dark themes then actually enjoy them...unlike some certain people.
“I'm almost there, I promise.” Max pursed her lips into a firm line and took out a brush. She hastily tried taking out all the midnight knots that formed in her hair and yanked a good amount while she struggled to do so. “Give me 5 more minutes.”
“I'll only give you 5 more, Max. After that, I'm headin' in!” Chloe half-threatened, but before she could say anything else the line went dead.
Max made another sigh. Sometimes, she wished Chloe wasn't an extrovert. She already wished she were in the warm confines of her bed. Sleeping in sounded so much better right now, especially when she looked like trash, and some of Chloe's antics always did get them in weird trouble.
“Just a few hours, and you can go home,” the girl fidgeted in her seat and watched the scenery pass by her.
A cluster of skyscrapers surrounded everything, and there were little to few trees that could be seen other than the planted dogwood. Living in Portland was very different than living back in Arcadia Bay where everything was swallowed by greenery. There were a ton more shops and a lot less open road, and the air was a little stuffier, but it was livelier, and she enjoyed it.
Living in Portland was a dream come true after she had graduated high school and gotten into a great photography program at her university. Her parents had helped her pack her bags and move into an apartment nearby, and she had since been mesmerized by the difference the city had over the small town.
Now three years later, the city was still as gorgeous to her as the day she had first set her eyes on it. “I'll never get tired of Portland, huh?” She let a small smile through, and Max watched the variety of colors whizz by her. She could tell her destination was nearing, and the ride was coming to an end.
Unsurprisingly, when her stop came a good 10 minutes later, Chloe was still hanging out at the cafe in front of it, waiting for her despite her threat to leave. She looked mellower and more content now that she had a coffee in her hands, and her smile seemed to grow when she saw Max step out of the bus.
“Fucking finally!” The woman smiled and stood up quickly, letting small splashes of coffee hit the pavement floor. “We have like 20 minutes left till it starts, I already bought the tickets!” She threw the brew away in the closest trash can she could find, and pushed Max to the booth that had already formed a line.
Jeez, is this movie that popular? Max rose her brow at the groups of people excitedly talking among one another while they waited. A lot of people were asking for tickets to see The Devil's House II, and a lot more were wearing some old paraphernalia.
Max smiled at the people geeking out, it kind of made her want to do the same, and the shirts were by far impressive, even though it could be kind of corny. Some people even wore red face paint – it was like entertainment of its own!
She scanned the people, interested to see if there was anything that beat the man with the full Satan get-up, complete with inflatable pitchfork. She could already tell this movie, if not scary, was going to be hilarious.
“See anything you like?” Chloe rolled her eyes as she let her friend observe the other fans that had met for the movie's opening.
“Well, I'd say I'd give Mr. Satan a 9.5 out of 10,” Max joked with her, and she could hear Chloe's “No way, seriously? Where – oh my fucking God, let me just take a picture, hold up,” far in the distance. She laughed at her friend's enthusiasm, but stopped halfway as more people came in, making the line even longer.
Great, I think I should find Chloe now...Max smiled. At least they had tickets on them, now.
“Aren't you at least excited about seeing this?” A girl's voice pierced through everyone else's conversations.
Max searched for Chloe; where was that Satan?
“Yeah, I am, I'm just not excited about the people,” another voice replied, and it was familiar, but strangely...soft.
The voice that had suddenly came out of nowhere from her nightmare, suddenly ripped into the present, and made Max halt in her attempt to find her friend.
She stood frozen at the voice that was the same, but different; the voice that used to talk to her in such a soothing way, and then in an angry accusatory one. It caused her to shiver – his voice always had that effect on her.
Immediately, and impulsively, Max searched for the owners of the voice – her curiosity got the best of her, and she needed to discover who it was, even if her mind was telling her not to go down that road – even if she already knew who it was, but hey, some people had the same voice-box, some people could easily sound like that jerk – that asshole, her ex-boyfriend. Chloe seemed to be busy talking to the man in Satan's costume, too busy to realize that her friend was looking pretty weird – her gaze going from left to right so quickly it could give anyone a headache.
“Oh come on, I bought the tickets for you!” The girl laughed.
And then, Max spotted her.
Her hair was sunshine, and her eyes glowed – they were mesmerizing – they were as blue as the clearest day, and they laughed loudly. Her actual laugh was pretty, too – it was a songbird's whistle and it chimed as sharp as a bell; it caught many peoples attention - and it brightened the day– she's beautiful. She's gorgeous, and for some reason, Max is terrified of her. To top her qualities off, she also had one of those smiles – the kind that was contagious – the bright, toothy type that stretched to her ears – she was a rarity – a diamond in the rough; a diamond in Portland.
And Max felt strange despair churn in her stomach.
But despite her radiance, she was not the person Max's eyes focused with full attention. Her voice wasn't the magnet to her ears, no, it was the man holding her that got her blood pumping and made her heart jump.
“And I'm grateful for that, Rach, I really am.” Nathan Prescott stood before Max, holding the woman gently, while pressing a kiss to her cheek, he had a small smile on his face – a lazy one, an unfamilarly kind one.