Chapter Text
November 13th, 2016
It was pouring rain - harsher than she's ever seen it. Gusts of wind swirled around in a frenzy, hissing dangerously in her ears. Leaves scrapped against one another as the branches of old oak cracked and bended in the forces of the wind, yet it could hardly be heard over the chaos that currently claimed dominion over the town.
A storm - a giant twisting nether of winds and lightning - was on the brink of destroying all that she loved in Arcadia Bay. Sweet Kate Marsh, who had the best taste in tea and offered an unlimited amount of kindness from the bottom of her heart. Then there was Warren, one of the first friends she’s ever made at Blackwell, who offered plenty of obscure movies and nerdy (yet endearing) knowledge of the world around them. Then there were also the people she met along the way who made the small fishing town that much more worth saving. Hell, even Victoria Chase was worth saving. Like everyone else, she was only insecure.
The amazing people of Arcadia Bay screamed in color with their eccentricities, and as she stood there on that cliff transfixed by the chaos, she realized then what she had to do.
It grabbed her heart and held it hostage in a cruel slant of choice.
Because that would mean Chloe -
And that was when she heard someone run up the cliff -
*******************************
Max woke up with a start to the sound of her alarm. Sweat coated her skin and bled into her clothes and onto her bedsheets. Panting heavily now, she rushed to turn it off and almost fell off the bed as a result. After a beat or two of attempting to calm her beating heart, she slowly gained the courage to sit up and rest her warm back against the chill of the cherry wood bed frame. It was then, as she absorbed her surroundings, did she realize that she was in the safety of her bedroom. It was dark in the early morning light, but it offered a blanket of comfort for the shivering girl. One more breath, and she noticed the time on her phone.
It was 7 am on a Saturday.
Normally, Max would’ve gladly turned off the alarm and slept till noon. Today though, Max had to go to work. In the past three years, Max has held a total of five jobs; one at McDonalds, one at Pizza Hut, one at Walgreens, one at Joan’s Fabric, and finally, one at a local art gallery in downtown Seattle. It wasn’t with her own art, however, she hasn’t even touched her camera since... well, since then. Couldn’t even take a simple selfie anymore, not even for her social media which she had already abandoned ages ago (what use was it, if she hardly talked to anyone anymore?). What once was her sole passion to take photos of the world around her, now was a gateway to the memories she had long since buried.
She still wanted to be around art, and work with it, she just didn’t want to be around her own art. It was much easier that way, to admire it from afar without the faint desire to change the past coursing through her veins.
When she was a senior at Blackwell Academy, she discovered she was able to rewind time by a few minutes, and then discovered later that she could "time hop" with a photograph, which made it increasingly difficult to take anymore photos of herself. She didn't want that temptation. Each time she altered the timeline, the oncoming storm gained more power, as it slowly encroached the Bay. She had caused an entire town to be swallowed by a chaos storm in a pocket dimension...because.
Because...
Gently pushing herself to get out of bed, she glanced at the picture frame on her nightstand. It was turned down, yet she could still see the image laid out clearly in her mind, each detail fine tuned and crisp. A picture of two young pirates, both unaware of what the future the universe would bring them.
A deep breath. Then another.
She sat with her legs dangling off the queen sized bed. Then, with trembling legs (from the cold and from the freight) she slipped on some socks, and softly walked downstairs to the quiet kitchen. Each cabinet offered its own treasures of precious breakfast food, but instead she grabbed a plain protein bar, which she then accompanied with a cold glass of milk. Little by little, she ate her breakfast, nervously thinking what the day might hold because whenever she dreamt of what happened, it gave her a sense of guilt and longing.
Guilt, for having sacrificed her safe haven. Longing, for a simpler time, back when her best friend was alive and breathing.
Stop. She wasn’t going to think of her today. Today was too important to have her head be somewhere else because later that afternoon, it would be the first day the gallery would be showing Giorgio Di Rossi - a famous oil painter. At eleven o’clock Max would be cleaning the floor area, preparing the seating, arranging caterers, and putting up the paintings onto the walls.
It would be a long arduous day, but Max didn’t mind. In fact, if she were to admit it, she was actually a little excited. She’d seen his paintings online and they carried so much emotion and weight, that she believed if she were to see them in person, it would be an experience.
As she ate the last bite of her protein bar, she looked outside her window. There was a doe standing in her backyard as she stared at Max. The deer regarded her in a determined yet soft way, before she heard something in the forest and walked back into the trees.
A strange feeling settled into Max’s half empty stomach.
Max threw out the wrapper for the protein bar then placed the empty mug into the sink to be washed later. Searching for her medicine in the stuffed cabinet, she thought of Kate Marsh, who at one point had been on her own antidepressants after her night at the hospital. Max missed her, because she always was so sweet, patient, and kind - she always checked in to make sure Max was doing okay.
Even if she hadn’t talked to her friends from Blackwell for a while, she had still looked at their socials to see how they’re doing. She hoped they were fine (they always seemed fine) but she always ended up wishing she was like them. Able to move on in life, meanwhile Max was stuck living, and re-living, the past.
Max hasn’t even tried to rewind, because she was both scared to find that she no longer could change the past, and while also hoping she still might have the chance to try and save everyone. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else anymore and besides - she was living such a monotonous and routine life now, what was there to rewind to?
Shaking her head, she popped two pills into her mouth, then slowly ambled up the creaky stairs to start getting ready for work.
The long hot shower was the perfect remedy to Max’s tiredness, and it almost immediately woke her up. Showers were often the best places for her to retreat into her subconscious. Just thinking things through, of incongruent and cohesive thoughts alike. And so, as warm water hit her pale thin back, she thought of maroon cashmere and white paint.
Victoria Chase.
To Max, she might as well have been called an enigma; full of opposing and conflicting personalities that converged into the queen bee of Blackwell Academy. Victoria was icy and vicious, often throwing spiteful words towards Max, but she was also caring (if you were close enough to her, which Max definitely wasn’t.) There was a timeline where her and Victoria were...maybe a little more than friends but still a little less than lovers. Even in the current timeline though, she could still be kind, like when she brought Taylor Christensen to see her mom who was in the hospital at the time, or when Max and her had shown each other’s vulnerabilities at the End of the World party.
After she had thoroughly scrubbed everything, while now smelling like fresh lavender, she quickly brushed her hair and put on her uniform. In a small duffle bag, she stuffed a fancy outfit for the event later that evening.
And not a moment later, she was on the road towards downtown Seattle.
*******************************
The hour ride wasn’t horrible at this time of day, it was not even eight am, so the roads were relatively alright considering she was driving into a city. Traffic was light, and Max was happy about that. It made the drive a breeze, which allowed her to actually admire the view around her. Seattle was a pretty place, it served her well in the past few years while she lived with her parents, but she really couldn’t imagine staying here for any longer. Maybe she could look at job openings in Portland, if not just to imagine what it would be like. Maybe.
Either way, while she pulled into the parking garage nearest to the art gallery, she noticed a woman who looked exactly like Rachel Amber, walking in front of her car. Heart beating, she looked harder and then noticed it wasn’t the brunette with a blue feather earring. Okay, Max thought, You seriously need to get a grip.
Shaking her head disdainfully at herself, she decided to actually get breakfast at the coffee shop in the building where the art gallery resided - after her morning of digging deep into her subconscious, she believed a nice cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant should make her feel more like herself.
Or so she thought.
The walk from the parking garage to the art gallery building was a relatively short one, and it even passed by a medium sized park, where families had picnics and people played frisbee with their friends. It was a really beautiful landscape, where there was even a pond where a large willow tree grew. Rose bushes, recently trimmed, decorated the path that ran down the middle of the park, and fields of fresh green grass hugged it.
Max’s usual walk to work often had her cut across Hedges Boyer Park, and in the fresh crisp morning, it offered peace and quiet. Now, however, as she moved down that stone path in the thick fog, she noticed a doe watching her.
And not just any doe. The doe.
Max held herself still in place, mid step. The spirit in front of her danced out of her peripheral vision and she was gone. The brunette told herself she was just seeing things; today had started pretty off. It was probably just another woodland creature. Yeah. Just another animal.
As much as she tried to tell herself that though, it hardly offered any comfort to her shivering body.
When she had finally arrived at the Renoir Building of Art and Design, she felt like she had already been rung through the ringer, and she wasn’t even on the clock yet. After scuffing her boots on the welcoming mat, she allowed herself to admire the lavish hallway. To the right, there was a gift shop that sold knick-knacks of famous artists in history, and depending on if there was an artist showcasing their work that month, they put up some of that particular artist's paintings for sale. And since this month was Georgio de Rossi, she sincerely doubted there would be a canvas that went unsold - even if the lowest price tag was one thousand dollars.
To Max’s left, a little ways away, was the rustic Café Laurent that offered the best coffee in all of Seattle, The sweet aroma of coffee beans and warmed pastries filled her senses, immediately improving her mood immensely. Walking past the gift shop, and the gallery entrance, she entered the café where it was mostly empty, save for the elderly couple sharing a seat nearest to the window in the back. Behind the counter which was adorned with casings of pastries, the barista greeted the brunette.
“Good morning, Max! The usual?” The small woman said as she smiled affectionately. For Max, the “usual” consisted of the delicious cinnamon latte which reminded her of the holidays (even when it was just before Halloween) and a freshly made chocolate croissant (which was very much her guilty pleasure.).
“Of course, ma’am. You know me so well.” Max answered cheekily with a lopsided smile as she handed the barista the money. The woman on the other side of the counter giggled, then started to make the specialty drink, and a few silent moments later, Max was finally able to take in that first sip of heaven.
Delicious.
Max took a seat nearest to the exit and admired the atmosphere around her. Soft jazz played in the background as light conversations lilted around her. She enjoyed her latte, and then when she started eating the pastry, she could practically feel herself melting in pure bliss.
And now, finally, it was time to work.
*******************************
By the time the clock struck three, Max was exhausted - kind of like she was run over. Repeatedly. Her and Helena, her coworker, spent nearly two hours cleaning every nook and cranny of the art space. Dusted the furniture, vacuumed and mopped the floor, and started to unload all the paintings and sculptures from the truck. All of the paintings were wrapped so it was hard to distinguish the designs, but the sculptures she could make out pretty well. There was one of a woman crying out in agony as the waves pulled her down to the depths. Another, where multiple hands encompassed a naked woman’s body.
Max was already enamored with his work.
And so the set up also took awhile to get just right. Apparently, Giorgio Di Rossi was much more involved than Max had originally thought. He didn’t bark out orders necessarily, but he was assertive and meant business. He knew exactly what he wanted, and how he wanted it done. Generally, it would only take around forty five minutes to get everything mounted and adjusted “just so” but today, it took a little over an hour. There were over twenty two paintings and four sculptures total. Giorgio may have been a strong presence, but he was also indecisive. The workers would constantly be switching artworks in different areas of the gallery so that Di Rossi could decipher which paintings would be better suited next to another canvas.
Max could appreciate the artwork, but as of right now, the artist was starting to piss her off. She already woke to an old memory she wanted dead and buried. She was so not in the mood for this. The reception was due to start in about twenty minutes and here they were - still setting up the space. It was so frustrating that Max barely had time to actually admire the designs.
A little before four, Di Rossi was finally satisfied. All of the staff went off in separate directions to quickly prepare for the grand opening. Helena went to the small kitchen area to prepare the charcuterie boards and set up the champagne glasses. Max went to the bathroom to change into something a little more “fancy” (her version of fancy involved slacks, a decent button up, and slightly slicked back hair.) Nonetheless though, everyone at the gallery was primed and proper by the time the gallery opened for the night.
Normally, Max would feel neutral throughout the night, just vaguely admiring the artwork while barely talking to the visitors.
But tonight...tonight was different. She had felt “off” all day and the fact that it only increased in intensity as time went on. It was a feeling that made her on edge - like she was being observed by the universe. Watching.
Two hours went by just attending to the patrons needs. Bringing them snacks, or champagne. Leading them to the nearest bathroom, or asking questions about the artist to which Max always responded with “I’m not sure, but you can ask him right there - he’s near the podium.”
The whites of the walls adorned with paintings, and the rich wooden flooring, and the overhead lights. Smells of sharp perfumes and strong colognes mixed in with deep conversations about life and art. The quiet hush of it all - like a library, everyone wanted to preserve the intimacy of it all. It reminded her of something that never happened. In another life or in another timeline, the Other Max visited San Francisco after she won the Everyday Heroes Contest. Flying to the city with her old photography teacher and a few other staff members and students, she visited a similar gallery. The smells, the atmosphere. Everything felt so similar then as it did now. How was it that when she was at the San Francisco gallery, it reminded her of this one.
It was times like these where Max felt time was incongruous. Where everything that will happen, has happened, and vise versa. Time was never linear. It was only sculpted into a line because our brains couldn’t process anything else.
It was the only way for Max to comprehend her rewind powers - back when she actually used them, that is.
Then Max saw a tall, blonde woman walk through the double doors. With every move she made, it was with a purpose that demanded attention. Instantly, when those doors closed shut, Max knew she was looking at a whole different kind of storm.
Victoria.
She couldn’t tell if she was necessarily happy to see her old bully from school, but damn was she hot in that low scoop blood red dress that had a slit on either side of her legs. Max hasn’t seen her in years which made it seem like she was merely a ghost from her past, but nope. There she was, the enigma and the devil herself - Victoria fucking Chase.
Max’s mouth went dry, then suddenly it was harder to breathe. Because right then and there, Victoria was right in front of her, and together they made direct eye contact. The small brunette suddenly wished she’d dressed a little better that night. And that she was a little taller.
Her blue eyes washed over the blonde’s legs, which were long, slender, and muscular. Impossible not to admire, and Victoria being Victoria, caught Max staring. Her red lips curled into a smirk.
“It’s been awhile, Smallfield. I see that you work here, are you like, a janitor or something?” Victoria placed most of her weight onto her left leg while she crossed her arms and offered a little head tilt which, unfortunately, Max found sort of endearing. Given the circumstances.
“First of all, I’m not a janitor. I’m part of the staff here who puts things together and sets things up. And serve drinks, occasionally.” It was Max’s turn to cross her arms as a slight scowl frowned upon her face.
“So...a janitor.”
“Hah, no.” The brunette replied with a short, humorless laugh. “What’re you even doing here, anyway, Victoria? Last I heard you went to UCLA.”
The blonde blushed a slight rouge, but quickly recovered by clearing her throat.
Interesting.
"Not that I owe anything to you, hipster, but yeah. I did. I'm only here on Chase family business." Her voice was clipped. Strained. Wait…
She 'did' go to UCLA. Doesn't that mean she doesn’t anymore?
“Victoria what do you - “ before Max could even finish her sentence, the blonde twisted her beautiful face into a harsh glare. Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. Got it. Victoria placed her left palm above her right collarbone, slightly caressing the area. In doing so though, the silky red fabric on her chest gave way just a tiny bit. Just enough to expose a dash of black ink. It seemed like such a natural response that Max didn’t even think Victoria noticed she was doing it. I guess she’s not the only one who’s changed, then.
“I’m taking a gap year. The professors there were holding me back, so I’m here making connections in the art world. I’ll return when I’m rea - when I want to.” A slight pink danced across Victoria’s face and Max pretended not to hear the implications.
Hmm.
“Well, uh. That’s good I guess.”
“Duh, of course it is.” She spat as she gave Max an intense eyeroll. “You wouldn’t understand since you’ve been in literal hibernation for three years. Seriously, what the hell happened to you?” Max knew Victoria intended to have more bite in her words (she always did) but her voice was a little softer than what she was expecting.
The small brunette shrugged. “Depends,” she said with a sense of blasé, “What happened to you ?”
“What do you mean?” Green eyes narrowed into slits.
“You know what I mean.” Max shot back in challenge. If this was the Max who still attended Blackwell, she would’ve turned the other way as soon as she caught sight of the blonde hair. At 21 though, she had gone through way too much shit to be intimidated by Victoria Chase; an insecure girl at the end of the day. Just like everyone else. She could handle her.
“Touché.” the blonde responded, with the corner of her mouth slightly turned up in a smirk. Victoria’s green eyes sparkled in amusement and at the sight, Max couldn’t help but to smile.
Max liked this weird banter going on - both of them had matured enough that both could be equals. The animosity from Blackwell still lingered in the air though, almost like a bittersweet aftertaste.
“ Max! ” Helena whisper-yelled into the brunette’s ear and she jumped in surprise. Where the hell did she come from?? Even Victoria was taken aback, although she tried to hide it by reaching into her hand purse.
Shit. She was still at work. Right.
“Uhm, what are you doing, talking? We need help serving drinks. Now, come on,” Helena said as she grabbed hold of Max’s left bicep before she started leading her into the kitchens. “Sorry blondie, I need Max here for awhile!”
From the corner of her eye, Max could see Victoria fluster for a moment as she turned a slight shade of pink. Okay, now that was kind of cute, she thought and then promptly chastised herself for thinking that. No, bad Max .
Regardless of her little chat with an old classmate and the desire to continue it, she had work to do - unfortunately - but it would be a good distraction. How mindless it is, to fill champagne glasses with aged fine wine and deliver them to their guests. It was mostly a solitary thing, just walking around, asking if anyone wants refreshments. The reason she liked it was that no one wants to talk to the waitress in an art gallery. And that’s exactly how she liked it. It was one of those nights where she didn’t particularly feel like talking to anyone, and yet, she did. Just one person.
Helena was not that person.
“Who was that ?” Helene had asked the moment they walked through the doors to the kitchens. Max could even hear the smile in her voice.
Max just shrugged in response. Only slightly annoyed at her for interrupting her conversation, but only slightly. “No one,” she mumbled in response as she assembled the drinks onto the platter, “she’s just someone I knew from school.” Another shrug.
“Didn’t seem like it,” the older woman cocked her head slightly while she tied on a black apron around her waist. Her left eyebrow arched. “Y’all were talking for quite some time. If we weren’t so dang busy tonight I'd have let you off a little longer. Lord knows you need it.”
Her face was suddenly a little warm and she pursed her lips in response. “She’s not anybody, trust me. We barely knew each other.” The small brunette, suddenly seeming much smaller than before, placed the last glass onto the platter, clinking slightly with the glass beside it. “It was just nice to see a familiar face is all.”
Her coworker regarded her thoughtfully.
“Hmm.” was all she responded with before she hustled Max out onto the floor. The brunette sighed as she surveyed the sea of people there tonight. It was more than the crew were expecting, it had to be at least a hundred people, and the space wasn’t even that big either. It was cramped, and frankly, very dry. It was mostly adults above the age of 30 who admired the paintings on the wall, all whispering in hushed voices. It was a reverend silence, accompanied with faint mumbling of people. There was light jazz playing in the background, which was nice.
Over the course of the night, Max only caught sight of Victoria only three more times.
The first was when she was handing an older man a glass of wine and she had seen the blonde walking behind him. Max was going to say something to her before she was lost to the crowd.
The second time was around six o’clock. It was sunset, and the orange sunlight started to bathe the space in a faint golden light. It was Max’s break time, so instead of trying yet again to find the elusive blonde, she opted to rest out by the balcony. The air was crisp and the wind slightly icy, but it was her favorite type of weather - that transition from fall into the winter chill.
Below the metal railing stood Seattle, all bright lights and energetic signs. She could see the traffic inching by in the crowded streets as muffled car horns sounded every few seconds. The gentle brush of the breeze comforted her in her sense of quiet loneliness.
Max rested her arms over the railing before her head fell into the crook of her elbow. In a quiet hushed voice, she whispered to herself. “Would you have liked Seattle, Chloe?” A moment passed before a soft barely-there laugh escaped her lungs. “What am I saying,” Max mumbled as her blue eyes prickled, “of course you wouldn’t. Not really your scene, huh.”
A slight sniffle, a sharp shake of her head, and a light dab at her eyes. She was ready for work again. As she turned to enter back into the building, there she was - Victoria in all of her beautiful, smug, glory. She was also on the balcony, but on the very opposite end. Her body was almost curled into herself, her arms wrapped around her. Even from where Max stood, she could see the slight shivers she tried so hard to suppress. She leant against her left side and just saw the city below her, but Max doubted Victoria even knew what she was looking at.
Max didn’t know what Victoria had been through these last three years, but it was enough to have left only a shell of who she once was. Victoria and Nathan Prescott were really close friends, so when he was finally arrested for his crime, Max knew it ate at Victoria’s mind. Everyone of his friends knew he needed help, they just didn’t know how much. To have known a best friend was struggling and to not have done something...the guilt must’ve festered in the blonde’s lungs, growing in size as each year went by.
As much as Max wanted to hate Victoria, for who she was and what her friend was capable of, she couldn’t. Max knew Chloe was hurting, and yet Max didn’t reach out to help her either. Which was why, when she had failed her best friend again that final year at Blackwell...she had never hated herself and the universe more. How cruel it must be to have the powers to rewind time, have the power to save people and create memories with the one she loved most, only to be forced to rewind back to the start.
She hated ironies, and this one was the most bitter of them all.
Max waited for a moment as she regarded the other woman, in her own little corner on the balcony. Her mouth almost opened to say something to Victoria, yet nothing came out. Maybe she should just go back to work. After a long look at the blonde, she took in a breath, then walked back inside.
Victoria didn’t come back in until thirty minutes later.
The third and final time Max saw Victoria that night was after everyone had left.
It was quiet as each of the patrons traipsed through the doors, some with expensive paintings in hand that some of the staff helped place in their cars. A slight hum of rain sounded through the halls accompanied by hushed conversations. Max helped Helena wash and store everything in their proper places, then helped to tidy up the place. By now, it was around seven o'clock which, if Max wasn’t working today, she would have plenty of energy. Today though, the brunette was so fucking exhausted - show days were always like this. Her bones felt like they were melting from her flesh and her muscles almost screamed in protest with every step she took.
As soon as she got home, she was going to pull a bath and go straight to bed because good lord did her legs hurt. Although, even if she was extremely tired, she also was extremely hungry. She had completely forgotten that she skipped lunch. She didn’t mean to, it was just the set up was still in full swing so she felt she could eat later...then later came and she didn’t. There were some days she felt she wasn’t deserving to eat, like she wasn’t worthy enough to eat because she was alive and Chloe wasn’t.
Maybe it was progress that she was craving dinner right now, even if it was just a salad she wanted.
So after her and Helena cleaned the floor, Max started to leave for the night. She said goodbye to her coworkers, retrieved her duffel bag, locked her stuff, and started to make way to her car. On her way out the doors, she noticed Victoria was still here - she was all business though as she talked with a famous photographer alongside her father. Her green eyes were hard-set and focused on the other man’s own, while Max was watching how her left index finger played circles around her right collarbone - where the slight sliver of ink was.
She always wanted to hate Victoria - she really did, with how much shit she always gave to the brunette at any given time - but it never reached past a slight annoyance. Max never wanted to admit it to herself, but she actually kind of admired her. Sure, she was rich as hell and her sock was probably worth more than Max’s entire bank account, but she had a good eye. A really good eye.
But then Nathan happened, and all Max ever knew was thrown out the window. During her one precious week with her best friend in those pocket dimensions, she uncovered more sides to Victoria than she ever cared to know purely on accident. Sometimes she wondered if the unwanted attraction she felt towards Victoria was her own feelings, or the emotions of that Other Max who was in the Vortex Club. Where...where her and Victoria were -
Well, it didn’t matter what they were there because that wasn’t here.
Of course, that was when the infamous blonde woman made eye contact with the brunette for the fourth time that night. Victoria, now suddenly pale, seemed to have been saying something to the business man before she excused herself to walk in the direction of where Max currently was. Shit. Fuck. Shitfuckshitfuckshi -
“Max!” Victoria smiled ecstatically at her right as she pulled the small woman into a tight hug. Max, completely confused out of her mind, still (tentatively) managed to wrap her arms around Victoria.. “ Please just fucking play along ,” The blonde hissed in her ears before pulling away abruptly.
Max nodded in agreement and pretended to take a good look at Victoria.
“Uh, wow! You’ve changed so much after all these years. I-it’s really nice to see you again.” She replied, a crooked smile adorning her face.
“Right! It has been awhile huh?” Victoria giggled with an effortlessly sly smile and carefree attitude. Her eyes, however, were so out of focus and wild - it was all a stark difference to their interaction earlier that night.
What the hell was going on? She’s never even seen her act this way, with a ghost like complexion and a shaky voice.
The brunette offered a weak laugh in response. Max took a moment to brush her hair behind her ears to give her a few more seconds to think. “Yeah, it definitely has been.” Max teased, with a slight dash of amusement at the current situation coursing through her eyes.
“Hey,” Victoria offered. “How about we talk things out over dinner? My treat.” Her hand rested upon Max’s shoulder, just slightly squeezing a little more than necessary.
“O-of course! I would love to - “
Victoria’s face relaxed, her strained smile morphing into something more natural. In her glee, Victoria reached forward to clasp her hand onto Max’s unoccupied hand. “Perfect! I know just the place.” And without even waiting for Max’s reply, she began to lead them both out of the building. All the while, much to Max’s delight, Victoria ignored all the calls her father made as they bolted out the door with the brunette’s duffel bag hitting against her leg with each step.
“Hey uh, Vic - “
“ Shhh, not now. But, random question, did you drive here?”
“I did, but i don’t know how that - “
Victoria gleamed, with a newfound twinkle in her eyes. “So you can drive us to the restaurant. Good thing you’re part of the middle class, because our chauffeur drove us here, and I could really use a getaway car right about now.”
“ Excuse me?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Whether intentionally or not, Max led them to her sedan and they stood for a moment while Max’s inner struggle to comprehend what the fuck was going on raged inside her. Her kidnapper for the night, however, was getting impatient. “Well, aren’t you going to open the door?” Victoria chided, just slightly lifting her eyebrow, with a well manicured hand on her hip.
Max gave her a long look, not moving. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to boss me around.”
Victoria sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “Just open the fucking door.” Her slender shoulders slumped, her eyes turning soft and glassy. In a hollow voice heavy with exhaustion, she whispered “please....”
The car clicked open immediately and they both slipped in. Max’s duffel bag was thrown to the backseat as they both fastened their seatbelts. Max was about to ask where she was going, but she stopped as she realized her passenger didn’t care where they went, so long as it wasn’t here . Pursing her lips, she watched as Victoria frantically dug through her hand purse to find sunglasses that she practically threw onto her face. Even through the dark shades, Max could feel the intense stare of her green eyes. “Okay, okay. Let’s go,”
After they pulled out from the parking spot, the passenger side visor was pulled down to further hide the blonde from view. She tried to refrain to look at Victoria, who tried her best to seem bothered by the turn of events, and was shivering slightly. Seeing her like this...it was such a contrast to the old Victoria who could handle anything. Max should have known better than to judge - everyone has their own demons to face.
From the corner of her eye, Max could see a silhouette of a well dressed man walking towards them.
Victoria stilled.
Max flattened the gas pedal.
*******************************
Minutes later, they still drove through the bustling streets of Seattle. Both women were quiet, with only the gentle hum of the engine and the slow streaks of the windshield wipers keeping them company. Reflections of street lights painted the roads like a dazzling mosaic, the only source of light during the darkened silence. In her rearview mirror, she could see Victoria curled into the passenger door blindly observing the city from her window. The sunglasses were off now, currently held tightly onto her lap. Faint wisps of shallow breath brushed against the window. Max sighed.
“So...where am I going?”
Victoria turned to her swiftly, almost as if she forgot where she was and who she was with. She straightened, brushing her hair down with slender fingers.
“There’s a nice vegan restaurant a few minutes out of the city.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were vegan.”
The blonde scoffed, “I’m not.” A quick glance at the window, then she added, “I just want to get out of here.”
Max nodded, a slight hum vibrating from her throat.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened there? Because, uh that was kinda crazy.”
Her passenger dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders slightly slumped. “Ugh, of all the people that could’ve been there, it just had to be you…” She started to massage the bridge of her nose.
“I don’t think I’m that bad. Plus,” Max pulled a lopsided smile. “I did save your ass back there. But hey, what do I know?” She looked over at Victoria with a teasing glint in her eyes.
The corner of Victoria’s mouth turned up for a fraction of a second before she flattened it again. “Full offense here, Caulfield, but I really don’t like you.”
The brunette started laughing. “Is that why you called me by my actual last name instead of Lamefield? If anything, I think that’s progress.”
“When did you become such a smartass?” Victoria teased with a slight lilt to her voice.
“Since I grew a spine and stopped caring what others think.” The brunette rested her elbow against the driver’s side door, relaxing her head into her palm with a small smile. Her passenger seemed pointedly staring ahead - definitely not glancing at her get-away driver for the night. Definitely not.
“Hmm…that’s fair I guess.” the passenger responded as she nodded her head slowly.
Traffic was almost at a standstill, but as soon as the light turned green, it was their turn to leave the suffocating city. The silence was palpable, though it wasn’t quite awkward as Max thought it would be. Victoria started to fiddle with the radio until she settled on a low, indie melody that sounded eerily familiar, yet not familiar enough to place the name.
A minute passed. Then another. And another.
As the song came to a close, the light flashed green and the cascade of cars inched across the border of the city, and it finally started to gain traction. Flying down the highway, the blonde gave directions to the restaurant, though as time went on, Max realized she had a horrible sense of direction.
“I think we just passed that house like, three times already - ”
“Would you just give me a second!? Just let me think...it’s gotta be around here somewhere…” the blonde hedged as she inched forward in her seat, squinted eyes trying to acquaint her surroundings in the dark night.
“Can’t you just pull out your phone for the directions? I’m tired, Victoria!” The brunette's eyes glanced at the clock for only a second.
Max wasn’t looking at her, but she could definitely feel Victoria rolling her eyes at her. Nonetheless, Victoria pulled out her phone, pressing the power button and...nothing but a black screen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Are you a grandma, is that it? Are you cranky because it’s past your bedtime?” the blonde snapped with a furrowed brow and shoved her dead phone back in her purse, until her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh wait!! Here! Turn left at the stop sign!” she all but yelled as she pointed at the next turn.
They pulled up to the sign, and to the left, the wide streets gave way to a small two way country road. It was pitch black under the covers of the large trees, almost as if the stiff darkness ate all the light that reached it. “Um, are you sure? It seems really out of the way.”
“I’m sure enough.”
“Is that a lot to go on?”
“Definitely. What, you don’t trust a Chase?”
“No, not really - “
“Oh for fucksake, Max, just drive !”
The brunette grumbled, then jolted the car towards the dark street.
“Finally!” Victoria sighed, leaning back into her seat with a contented smile gracing her features. “We should be there in about, say, ten minutes. Tops.”
So they drove in silence after the debacle, for almost eight minutes it was only trees on either side until they managed to leave the thicket and enter the borders of a farm. It was much more open with the only surroundings being open fields of growing corn sprouting from the soil. However, even though it was more open, the sky got more and more sinister. By the point they reached the farm, the heavy clouds above loomed over them angrily.
A deep rumble sounded and shook the car.
It was pouring rain now, visibility worsened, and Max began to panic internally. So far, Victoria seemed okay, slightly more aware but that was it. Max slowed the car to almost a crawl, though it was much more comfortable with the rain. White knuckled on the steering wheel, Max took a steady breath of air. The rain, the lightning, the thunder. It reminded her too well of the storm in the other timeline.
She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
Deep breaths . You really want to show your weakness to Victoria? Suck it up.
Mentally pushing away the memories of the past, she focused on the present, which included carefully driving on a small road, late at night, with minimal light and heavy rain. Max could feel her passenger’s eyes boring into the side of her head.
“We’re almost there.” Victoria offered, a little more gently than normal.
“Mhm.”
A minute more of the twisting and winding road, they began to see the bright lights of the bougie vegan restaurant called Green Earth and Max barely contained the urge to roll her eyes at the lame title. “Oh, it looks really pretty.”
“Did you expect anything less, Smallfield?”
“Honestly I wasn't expecting much.”
On the drivers side, there was a large lake that lingered a few feet below the guardrail. From what the brunette could see, it was mostly still despite the downpour -
BOOM!
Thunder clapped the air, and both passenger’s heard the snap of a tree before they saw it. It came crashing down above them. Max swerved the car to the left but miscalculated the speed she was going, and the car spun out of control as it hydroplaned through the rail.
A horrific tear of metal sounded around them. They thought the rail was enough to hold, but it split under the pressure, sending the front of the vehicle down the slope. Screams erupted from both of their lungs as they flew down, down, and Max was unable to press down the brake with the speed they were going and the slippery traction of the mud below.
We're gonna die, we're GONNA DIE, WE'RE GONNA FUCKIN -
They crashed into the still water, the lake swallowing the car whole.
There was a flash of light, a reverberation -
And then there was nothing.