Chapter Text
True hunger changes a person. A deep gnawing feeling that bubbles up from the gut and infects the mind. Overflowing to a point where you are no longer in control but a shell of who you were to satisfy the insurmountable need. Hunger can exist beyond the physical kind: the lust for power, revenge, wealth, love, and on and on. For Max, he hungered for acceptance, and for his father he hungered for something that Max was pretty sure didn’t exist.
When he left the isle, able to return to a home he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, his belly was finally full. No longer having to eat scraps thrown out by so-called “heroes,” but still looked down upon, bearing the weight and full scrutiny that comes with having a villain for a father. They look at him and claim the same hunger that is in his eyes and claim it is the same as dear old dad. “Your father brought pain, destruction, chaos, some might even say madness, so you will too,” they whisper. You have lived with the consequences of what your father did, and you will keep living with it till you die. Father like son, one the same amount as mad as the other.
Max stabs at the steak on his plate, not looking to take a bite but to take out his present frustrations. At this point, it was the plate or the table. While the dark-haired man was used to being gawked at by the hero kids in the school, he didn’t really want to explain to the faculty why he cut chunks into the expensive mahogany like a feral cat clawing into flesh.
“Hey man, I think the cow is already dead...” came a familiar warm and slightly raspy voice.
His grip lessens a bit, but he doesn’t look up from his hunched-over position. He huffs a bit, feeling a bit of his irritation about the day dissipating, “Yeah no shit, Hazel.”
The pirate and one of his best friends since forever raises an eyebrow at that. She plops down next to him at the dining table but makes sure to bump his shoulder. Max turns to her with a squawk, which she then promptly flicks him in the forehead, making a small thunk.
With ease, Hazel cuts into her own steak with significantly less force than the other. “So…” she drawls, “is this funk you have been in now like a permanent thing? Or are you finally going to tell us why you are acting like someone destroyed your favorite hat… again? You have the Smees worried.” She gestures vaguely with her hook at the siblings who had sat down across from them, eyeing Max curiously
Max sighs, running a hand down his face. He didn’t want to talk about it, this embarrassing blight he was working through. This all-consuming problem that has been taking up his mind and soul for the last month. It's really all his fault, but sometimes it is not; it just depends on the day, and today it's not his fault, something he just now decides as he drops his hand from his face. The fault didn’t lie with him…no… no, it lay with a 6-foot-something strongman with an infuriating laugh, blinding smile, and beautiful brown eyes that always made him a blushing mess. Allegedly, at least. He was never going to admit to his friends that he was in a secret relationship that they obviously didn’t know he was in. A relationship that was beautiful but terrifying all at once. With the guy he had wished for, probably not the nicest things to happen to, especially from the guy who was trying to prove he was not his father.
“I already told you before it’s nothing, just still pissed off over the grade I got in chemistry.” he’s not technically lying, as he just failed the last exam.
“Yeah, that is such bullshit,” came the voice of Max’s friend, Felix, hands always busy shuffling intricate tarot cards, “I mean, what did Mr. Deley say again?”
Max snorts bitterly, “That Wonderlandian conversions are not an acceptable way to show work on written problems. It’s whatever, even though it was correct.”
Ah, another problem that came with living in Auradon was trying to adjust to the very different ways of life. This was beyond the differences between the Isle and Auradon. Max grew up learning Wonderlanian customs and culture. The importance of tea time and whatever. That did not translate well when the dark-haired boy started school at Auradon Prep. There was not much forgiveness and understanding for Isle kids, but certainly none for the likes of him. It is the Auradon way or the highway.
“I mean, I bet Princess over there did perfectly fine on her exam,” Hazel mutters between bites of food, looking across the dining hall to where a certain red-haired princess was sitting, whispering conspiratorially to a certain blue-haired princess.
Max was not close to the red-haired girl; the only thing they shared was having a similar heritage. Red got to grow up in Wonderland, and he got to grow up on the isle. When he was finally able to go to Auradon, he was not expecting them to be best friends, but maybe an understanding would surface.
But he didn’t get that; she never could meet his eye from across the halls and shared classes. Just silence. She kept with her group of perfect heroes, and that was that. Or it was until the beginning of the term when she locked eyes with him at the “Welcome Back Ceremony ", her gaze strong but face unreadable, looking for something he was quite sure was not there. But before he could decipher what it meant, she had turned away, sinking back into the safety of her perfect little Kingdom, a reminder that no matter how much he longed for acceptance, the shadows of his father loomed large, shaping how others saw him and how he saw himself.
Felix looks over his shoulder to where her gaze was, “She’s a hero kid; I’m sure she has a special tutor or something. Or they just don’t care for her.”
“Which is bullshit! Right, Smees,” the Pirate barks at the two siblings who were currently punching the other in the arm.
They both stop nodding with extreme vigor. Loyalty running strong with their captain. Max huffs a semblance of a laugh at that. Their antics were always a bit absurd, but Max was used to it to the point he would not have it any other way.
“Why do all these royals always get everything handed to them on a silver platter, huh? It's so annoying, man.” She goes to take another bite of her food, then stops. “Who am I kidding? It’s nepotism.”
“Welcome to Auradon,” Max raises his half-full water glass in a mock toast voice, posh immalting the royal voices he hears every day.
Hazel knocks her glass into his hard enough that some splashed out, landing on the cards spread across the table.
“Guys, not the cards, come on,” Felix whines, though his annoyance was justified as three decks have suffered not even by his hands in the last couple of months.
“Oh sorry,” Hazel apologises, though not looking very much sorry.
“If you are actually sorry, let me give you a reading,” the other presses, folding his hands pleading.
Hazel snorts, tapping her fork on her plate. “Nope,” she pops the p,” Last time you did, the next day the girl I was seeing broke up with me. Said I was too avoidant or whatever.” Her voice turns a bit sour at the end; she hits her plate harder.
“I told you before that a reading is not a certainty but a possibility. If you let me-” She interrupts him.
“No.”
Felix pouts but turns to Max. “Max, please, I haven't done a reading on you in months.”
Max flicks his eyes to him. “Fine, only because I still feel bad about disgrenting the last deck.”
“Those were my favorite.”
“You say that about every deck,” Max says, moving his half-eaten meal out of the way.
Felix tsk-tsks while stacking his plate on top, then pulling out a large handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket. He spreads it out on the table with care; the fabric was ivy green, thick and sturdy, embroidered with different shades of yellow. It was one of Felix’s prized possessions something simple, but it came from his dad. Max never saw him without it; he couldn’t relate to wanting to carry something around that reminded you of your parent, but he didn’t get along with his father, and Felix did. With nimble hands, Felix gathered the whole deck and placed it in the middle of the cloth. The atmosphere of the dining hall was loud, voices echoing off the tall, rounded ceiling of the building. Definitely not the ideal location for a tarot reading, but Felix didn’t seem to mind, so Max was not going to interrupt his blissful happiness of being able to practice. At least one of them was happy, Max thinks bitterly.
“Ok, close your eyes, block out all the noise, and focus on the one thing you want to know. You don’t have to tell me what it is,” hums the other boy, “Think long and hard about what you truly want.”
Max closes his eyes, shutting out all the commotion of the busy dining hall. He didn’t need to think about what he wanted really; he knew. For some, it was cringy or sappy bullshit, but the heart wants what the heart wants. True acceptance for who he was, not seen as some trash or some ticking time bomb about to explode like Father Dearest. Not allowing the shadow of his dad to infect everything he did or wanted for himself. A plague that seemed to destroy everything near him. With a shaky breath, he opens his eyes.
“Now shuffle the deck until you feel like stopping.” Felix hands him the deck.
Quickly and efficiently, the dark-haired man dovetail shuffles the deck, feeling each card hit his thumbs. He then just as quickly pushes the cards back into an organized stack, handing it back to the other. Hazel, by this point, had taken to leaning on his arm to watch. Felix sets the deck back in the middle of the handkerchief and pulls the top card. He looks at it first with raised eyebrows, then sets it on the table so both Max and Hazel can see. What stared back at them was two celestial figures, one bright shining gold, the other quieter glowing silver, both reaching for the other but not quite reaching. At the bottom of the card, in almost mocking letters, read..
“The Lovers.” Felix taps the card for emphasis
“Is that what it usually looks like?” he feels himself asking.
“Each deck is different, and since you destroyed my old deck, this one is a bit different. A different story and meaning. The sun is what you put out into the world, and the moon is what you hide underneath your fear, secrets, and vulnerability.
Hazel interrupts, “I thought this was about romance or whatever?”
Felix drums his hand on the table, “I mean it can...” he trails, “but this isn’t about finding someone, specifically this type of card; it's about,” he gestures with his hands, “accepting yourself before you try to love someone else. We know better than anyone that no one is going to be accepted by everyone. Some hate the sun and yearn for the dark, and some bask in the sun while dreading what comes later. Neither sun nor moon change their nature for the acceptance of man. This shows the reality that if you remain true to yourself, then the person you are supposed to be will look at you and all the parts that you feel make you impossible to love, the good and bad, and not try to make you shine any less.” Felix rubs the back of his head bashfully,” Hopefully that makes sense. I am still working on this one. It’s a bit… sappy, but the cards don’t lie.”
“I mean, that was better than the one you did for me.” Hazel huffs, slapping her hand on the dark-haired man, “Right, Max?”
They both look at him, expecting him to chime in. “Yeah, I don’t really understand how this applies to me. I know and accept all parts of myself; it’s everyone else who can’t. I know who I am,” he says, voice steely.
“Hey man,” Felix raises his hand in a lazy surrender, “I’ve told you before that these don’t always fit every aspect of what you want.”
Max was already tuning out, feeling himself getting mad; he could feel a scowl overtaking his face. He hated how this was hitting him and making him feel. Vulnerability was not something he could deal with. He didn’t do it as a child; why would he do it now? Masking the pain and the hurt was the only way to get through life. Looking closer at the celestial figure representing the Sun made something tug at his heart. When he had something like that, but that was ruined like everything else in his life, extinguished. He felt their eyes burning into him, peeling parts away with just a gaze, but he couldn’t be sure what parts they were seeing were the same as the way he saw himself.
“I’m going to bed,” he bit out, standing.
Both Hazel and Felix shared a confused look. “Wait, what do you mean? I thought we were going out later?” Felix let out an unsure laugh.
“No, just go without me. I’m not feeling well.” He picks at his gloves, not wanting to look at two of his closet friends.
He walks out, not wanting to keep being stared at; it was what he most hated. He is barely out of the door into early November night when a hand hits his back.
“Dude, what the hell was that?”
He turns, not really excited to be chewed out.
“Hazel…” he sighs, taking off his hat and running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He feels his walls slightly crack before quickly patching those up.
She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest, “Look, you are going through something fine; you do not have to tell me everything, but it is obviously more than some stupid chem exam. We don’t do the mushy shit, whatever, but that doesn't mean you can’t tell us stuff or tell me stuff.” She insists, voice full of concern. She lightly punches his chest, not able to be serious for long. “So don't be an asshole.”
Max sighs deeply, fiddling with his hat, letting it spin in his hand. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready, ok, I just-” he takes a moment searching for the right words without giving too much away. “Am trying to work through it by myself first. Just a bit more time.”He hopes that would be enough for now.
Hazel nods, her face softening. “Ok, well, hurry up dickwad. I miss broody, but not this broody Max. If not for me, do it for the Smees,” she adds, a glint in her eyes. “Don’t make me get my brother; he will knock some sense into you.
He exhales, his lips twitching into a faint smile at her to lessen the tension.
“Alright, alright, go have fun; don’t let me ruin the night, ok. I’m fine,” he insists, though his words feel a bit unconvincing.
She gives him one last look, her hair swishing, making a light clinking sound as the metal pieces in her hair hit one another. The light from the courtyard illuminates her figure as she walks back into the dining hall. Max makes his way back to his dorm, the outside courtyard deserted, which, thank gods not wanting to see anyone else. Ok, he might not be totally fine; he wasn’t dumb, but he was working on it. He’ll forget and move on, right? But it is never quite that simple.
As he walked, the full moon hung overhead; no clouds were out to dim the soft silver glow that lit his path to his dorm. The sky was the typically dark deep blue, a certainty each night, unlike back home where the color of the sky could be bright primary colors and sometimes the moon never came, and the bright sun kept shining on. Max stops walking and looks up, hat in hand. The same silver that came from the moon was the same from that stupid card. He rolls his eyes at it all. Completely over it and definitely not blaming the large hunk of space matter for all of his problems.