title: hell is empty
summary: twenty three year old Chloe Price wished for death at nineteen. twenty two year old Victoria Chase is used to the monotonous introductions inside her AA meetings. chaseprice — oneshot
notes: this is messy, messy, messy. but shit, I wanted to dip my hand at chaseprice for a while, even though I prefer chasefield and amberprice. I'll write a pricefield one day. just not right now. also anyone else liked ep3 of lisbts? just me? whoops.
Arcadia Bay, OR; March 11th, 2017
Hell is fucking empty for Chloe Price, it always has, it always will be. Her time should've been done the minute that Prescott bastard shot her at the Blackhell bathroom, but magically, her life is saved and it's a flesh wound according to the doctors. She still feels a little twinge in her side every now and then, but it's nothing they say.
It should be something.
Twenty three year old Chloe Price wished for death at nineteen.
After finding out her ex-girlfriend Rachel died so long ago, she wanted to die. She wanted nothing more than death at that fucking moment. She wished for death. Kinda like, if she were to stand in front of a fucking truck, preferably the one who killed her daddy many years ago...or maybe a train, where she gets stuck on the train tracks and boom, she's dead with nothing left in her wake, she'd be hella thankful.
However, the universe gives her one more fucking chance to hopefully not screw it up.
Twenty three year old Chloe Price wanted nothing more than to screw it up. Alcohol is frowned upon because of her injury, but hell, she's been toying with death since birth. She gets a habit of drinking, almost like she was dependent on it like how Rachel and Sera were dependent on drugs. It ruins her liver, her relationship with her mom, and her head.
Well, her head was already messed up before that. She surely didn't give a fuck about her mother before that either.
Twenty three year old Chloe Price sits here, in the middle of a fucking bar on her twenty third birthday, wanting nothing more than a large gallon of vodka to drink and eventually die because she still has a bullet so near her appendix and she doesn't want to live anymore.
She resents Maxine Caulfield for saving her life that day. She never forgave Max, really. They don't talk. It breaks Max in two but Chloe doesn't give a shit. Chloe had five years of radio static and now Max saves her from a goddamn bullet she expected so long ago.
She's married and expecting a kid now...with that boy, Waldo or whatever his name is. Chloe couldn't give a shit even if she pretended to.
Twenty three year old Chloe Price hears the door open. She recognizes the look, the walk, the swagger. It makes her laugh. She gets up and approaches the person as if they're best friends, but really, Chloe hated this person with every fibre of her being. Like, if Chloe had to pick this person and the entirety of the Prescott family to hate more, she'd be married to Nathan by now...or maybe Kristine. She's the sane one in that family.
"Don't see you often here, Chase."
The person turns around, and it's exactly who Chloe wanted it to be. Victoria Chase: resident Queen Bee of Blackhell, the heiress of the Chase family, and the biggest bitch anyone would have the displeasure of meeting. She's an arrogant bully who has a mouth but nothing to back it up. "Chloe. We meet again."
"Wow, after many years you haven't screwed up my name."
Victoria rolls her eyes. "I always knew your name. I was just being an asshole."
"I knew it!" Chloe smirks, and walks around the younger girl. "You always we're trying to mess with people. You mess with them so much they fucking kill themselves by jumping off the roof of the Prescott Dorm! But that wasn't your fault, right?"
Victoria narrows her eyes. "Shut the fuck up."
"Oh, did I get under your skin? Hit a low blow?" Chloe chuckles mirthlessly. "You ain't shit, Chase."
"I don't give a shit, Price," Victoria retorts. "You talk shit about my misfortunes but here you are, with no high school diploma, no job, and no substance in your pathetic life. Heh, you are just as pathetic as me, Price. Maybe even more."
"Oh yeah?" Chloe gets dangerously close to Victoria, her eyes ablaze with fury.
"Yeah. We ain't kids anymore, Price. Whatever you say to me, sticks back to you because whatever you say to me to break me, you know you'll never be better than me, or anyone else for that matter." Victoria turns around towards the exit. "Oh, and happy birthday, bitch."
Arcadia Bay, OR; November 14th, 2017
"My name's Victoria Chase, and I'm an alcoholic."
Hell isn't empty for Victoria Chase. It's full of her deepest darkest secrets, fears, insecurities, and demons. It's a hell party in there. If she were to die, she'd die with every one of her demons going with her, and maybe if there's an afterlife, it would replay in her mind so many times, just like the monotonous replies of "Hi, Victoria."
However, twenty two Victoria Chase is used to the monotonous introductions inside her AA meetings. She's been sober since she saw Chloe at that bar. It made her realize that...if she wants to be better than local drug-adding dropout Chloe, she has to kick her own habit first.
Victoria didn't lie. She is doing a lot better than Chloe. She lives on her own, and yes, still in Arcadia Bay. She finished college in three years without the help of her friends Courtney and Taylor, because in order to do the work, you gotta do it in your own. No more crutches. She's hoping to acquire her parents' museum by next year, but she wants to be sober for at least a year before she heads far away from the Bay.
Twenty two year old Victoria Chase hates her alum mater.
Day by day, it reminds her of what she did to Kate. What happened to Chloe in that bathroom. What happened to Nathan and Jefferson. What happened to Rachel. It makes her believe that the school is cursed forever. The school is closed down now, but it makes her wonder what would happen if it were still standing in 2017, and many years to come.
Twenty two year old Victoria Chase watches Chloe Price enter the same AA meeting. It is definitely Chloe's first rodeo.
"Let me be your sponsor," she offers, as a peace offering.
"No."
Victoria almost laughs at that, but she expected nothing else. It wasn't the best to approach someone anyway. "Listen, you don't know anyone else in here except for me. I been sober for a while. Let's just—"
"Didya not hear me the first time, bitch? I said no," Chloe sneers. "And if you must know, I know at least one person in here. She's over there."
Victoria turns her head and gets pushed head first onto the snack table. She gets up and is drenched in punch and stale cookies, while hearing the crackle of Chloe Price right behind her. Victoria grows angry and has half a mind to rip all the blue follicles from Chloe's head off but the security guard already beats her to the punch. "Happy birthday to me."
Seattle, WA; March 11th, 2018
Hell is empty for Chloe Price, but it involves Rachel, her dad, and a bottle of smooth ass cognac.
Like now.
Twenty fucking four year old Chloe Price downs the last drop of Hennessy cognac as if it's a cooling beverage of lemonade. She laughs at her failed attempts of getting sober, when her mom kicks her out leaving her in the cold air of Arcadia Bay until she hitchhiked to Seattle, home of Maxine fucking Caulfield fucking Graham.
She lives here now, with her newborn baby and Waldo. She still takes pictures and has an exhibit shared at the Chase Space. Chloe is even surprised that Maxine pushed aside her animosity with Victoria to even get that chance, but who cares.
Max is a way better photographer than Mark Jefferson, who was executed just last month for his crimes. Took them long enough.
She stands right in front of the museum where the Chase Space stands. She walks right in, sneaks away from security and gets there. Her artwork is superb. Chloe Price wants to cry. She does, a little. It gets the attention of a long haired adult, that is recognizable to Chloe but she's sobbing too hard to care.
"It's that beautiful huh?" Victoria smiles.
"Leave me alone, Chase," Chloe growls.
Victoria grimaces. "I would, but then I have no control over the security guards escorting a grown ass drunkie out of my parents' museum." She looks at Chloe up and down. "You look like you need a bath."
"Kill yourself, Chase," Chloe sneers.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Chloe. When will you let someone in?" Victoria snaps. For the first time, twenty four year old Chloe Price never seen Victoria look so concerned, not even last year when she offered to be Chloe's sponsor when she was forced by David to attend an AA meeting. "You're wasting your goddamn life away and for what? Because Rachel died? Because of your dad? Because Max couldn't keep her end of the deal when she moved here as a kid? You're 24 years old, Price. Stop acting like a fucking child and grow the fuck up."
Chloe grabs Victoria's neck, and expects to see fear, but Chloe sees nothing but determination, like she's awaiting Chloe to choke the fuck out of her until she's dead. "Do it, Chloe. Hit me. Kill me. Do whatever the fuck you wanna do to me. It still doesn't change that you are no better than me. We both have demons. I killed Kate Marsh. I drank my life away and almost flunked outta law school. My parents still look at me with disappointment even though I own this fucking museum with the palm of my own hand. I trusted two sociopaths. So go ahead, kill me. I don't deserve to live as much as you do."
Chloe stares at Victoria. "What the fuck do you know about me? That I deserve to live this fucking long?"
"I know you're a good person who's been through bad shit," Victoria replies softly. "I know you pretend you don't give a shit but you do, and it eats you up inside. I know you're still affected by the death and abandonment in your life, but you're still here. You're still fucking here, Chloe Elizabeth Price. Isn't that worth celebrating?"
"No. I'm a piece of shit, Victoria Chase. You know that."
"We are both pieces of shit. But at least we're here."
Chloe finally lets go of Victoria.. "Where's your nearest shower?"
Seattle, WA; November 14th, 2018
"Happy birthday, Victoria!"
Hell doesn't exist.
Twenty three year old Victoria Chase laughs at Chloe popping out of a fake birthday cake box, in the most burlesque outfit known to her. She can't help laughing at how ridiculous her girlfriend is. "I hope you enjoy your birthday, Chase, because the last one was shitty."
"Yeah, you pushed me into a table full of cookies and Kool-Aid," Victoria smiles, reminiscing on Chloe's totally sober virgin AA meeting on Victoria's birthday. Ever since the beginning of the year, Chloe has drastically cleaned up her act and is now seven months sober. It makes her feel good. "But, all is forgiven, asshole."
"Love you, bitch," Chloe replies, giving Victoria a kiss. "Max called earlier and said happy birthday. She was kinda miffed that I picked up but...I don't care. She has to get used to our life together."
"She is. You're just an asshole," Victoria retorts. She manages to lift Chloe up and out of the birthday cake box. "Now, was that my birthday gift?"
Chloe rolls her eyes. "You know damn well I'm not done with you, Chase."
Victoria laughs all the way to their bedroom. "Good, Price."