Leave my room, put on the mask. Put on the mask before talking to my parents. Put on the mask before going to school. Wear it with friends. Wear it everywhere, everywhere outside my room. The mask helps everyone see I too am human, a person. Even my name is a mask: Max, never Maxine. Help people see me, but not see me. I'm just like everyone else, right?
In my room, in my safety, I can take off the mask and recognize the truth. Maxine Caulfield is not human. I don't know what I am. I do know that if anyone else sees the truth that will be the end, the end of feeling safe, feeling normal. I would be exposed, seen as the stranger among them. So I never take the mask off.
Only in my room, where I am safe, can I feel comfortable with myself. In my room can I be me, revel in my unreality.
I used to have another safety, a person. A person who helped me take off the mask, helped me feel comfortable with myself and just being. I didn't question my existence, my humanity with that person. Being with her, I had felt human, connected. Chloe Price had accepted me, Maxine Caulfield, for who I am, and helped me live in a way I never had before, or since. When I was with Chloe, I left the mask at home, even when around other people.
And then William Price died. And then my parents moved. The mask long unused was retrieved, dusted off, and worn again. More than once I started a letter to Chloe, or a text, or even had my finger over her number to call. Each time I felt that mask slip over. Distance, grief, change, all had a way to reinforce that disconnection, that need for the comfort of the mask. Eventually, I stopped trying. Comfort and routines of life made it easy, strengthening the hold of my mask.
My photography was the only part of me I exposed outside the mask. It was the only part of me that seemed connected to the world; it was my connection to the world.
Photography is what brought me back to Arcadia Bay. My first time living outside my home, far away from my parents. The mask by then was so much a part of me I forgot it was there. It stayed on in my room; it had become my comfort, my safety. I no longer felt safe without it.
Until she showed up and I gained the ability to rewind time. At first, I was amazed. It was awesome! Who wouldn't want the ability to rewind time and change events?!
Only after I managed to save that girl in the restroom did I realize what having this power meant. It was another thing that confirmed I was not human, not normal, not part of humanity. I didn't question why the ability was to me. It seemed natural, obvious that the non-human would have a strange talent. Something to reconfirm the truth of what I am.
Then the remarkable happened. In the parking lot, where I was supposed to return Warren's flash drive, I met up with the girl from the bathroom. Only it wasn't just any girl; it was my former safety, my best friend, Chloe Price. She was pissed at me, with every right. Pissed that I hadn't contacted her in five years. Pissed that I had been in Arcadia Bay for several weeks and hadn't reached out to her.
Despite all that, I felt something I had not felt in years. In Chloe's presence, I felt my mask loosening. Rather than filling me with fear, dread, or anxiety, I welcomed it. Chloe Price could still do to me, and for me, what no one else could: make me feel human, almost normal.
She was far from perfect of course. Grief, feelings of abandonment, and more had exaggerated parts of her personality and brought a kind of cynicism she hadn't had when we were younger. She was obsessed with finding her friend. An obsession that often led to ignoring me. I didn't like it, but could I fault her?
When she realized I was the one who saved her in the restroom from Nathan I saw again who she truly is, for she had built her own mask. A mask I succeeded in piercing. When I revealed to her that I had these weird abilities, and proved it, that spark of life she had, that enthusiasm for living and discovery and exploring, shone as strong as it had when we were kids.
At her junkyard hideout, I glimpsed more of the woman Chloe had become. Always strong-willed, now it was honed with focus and drive. She was going to find out what happened to her friend or die trying. When her drug dealer, Frank, showed up and I tried shooting him, my mask slipped further.
The remainder of that morning we spent reconnecting. The mask slipped off completely. For the first time in five years, I felt…safe, comfortable with myself. It didn't hurt that Chloe kept telling me how awesome I am. Although the mask was off, I couldn't yet show to her how much those words hurt. I was not ready to accept praise, acknowledgment, or reinforcement. My mask was off, but my heart was not prepared to hear and accept.
Those words. That confidence Chloe had in me did more to mold me in those few minutes than she'll likely know. One of the few people at Blackwell that I considered a friend, Kate Marsh, tried to kill herself. My rewind failed. But because Chloe had spoken so highly of me, because she believed in me, I didn't let that failure stop me. I tried harder than ever and managed to stop time completely!
Her confidence in me let me do something more remarkable than stopping time. I was able to talk Kate down. Me and words, expressing my thoughts and feelings, do not go together, mask or not. It was a struggle, getting the words out, telling Kate how much her friends and family love her. Telling Kate how much I'd miss her. When she stepped from the ledge into my arms, I almost cried, both for Kate and for the confidence Chloe had given me.
That night when Chloe and I broke into Blackwell I did something I hadn't done since leaving Arcadia Bay: I didn't put the mask on at all. Just like years ago, Chloe helped me live in a way like I never had before. It was when we were in the pool, splashing and talking, that I realized there was something special about Chloe Price. Despite all her flaws and some I didn't like, she still could do what no one else had ever done: make me comfortable with myself. Would I ever find someone else like Chloe Price?
Those thoughts were one of the reasons why the next morning when Chloe dared me to kiss her that I took that dare. I don't think she expected me to do it, because she pulled away acting embarrassed and awkward. It's probably silly, but I wanted her to know how special she was to me, even if she could only picture Rachel Amber in her future. Even if I could only picture Rachel Amber in her future, and…no one in mine.
Dressing in Rachel's clothes was like wearing a mask that everyone could see. At first glance, they'd joyfully call me "Rachel" then recoil as they realized their mistake. Even Joyce. I accepted their discomfort and dislike; it is part of being me.
When Frank's journal shattered Chloe's reality of Rachel, it was too much for me. While I will accept whatever shit the universe throws on me, I won't let that happen to Chloe. I'm not human so it doesn't matter how much shit comes my way, I deserve it. Chloe does not deserve it. I did the first thing that came to mind; I went back in time to save her dad. Instead, by trying to save William, I threw more shit on Chloe. Shit I had to remove. I couldn't even do right by Chloe. I didn't deserve her.
Visiting Kate in the hospital was…bittersweet. It did help me to question what I learned from trying to save William. I was capable of doing good, but only because of Chloe. She believed in me. I didn't believe in myself. Maybe that's why I failed in saving William? I had wanted to do something good for Chloe, but I didn't believe in myself the way she believed in me.
Finding the dark room, finding Rachel. More than ever I didn't believe Chloe deserved this. Was I a little jealous of Rachel? Yes. I wondered if Chloe had felt anything like this when I moved away. At that moment though I recognized something else about me. Chloe cared deeply about Rachel. I cared just as deeply about Chloe.
Without Chloe, I was a non-person masquerading a semblance of life. Sure I cared about people, like Kate and even Victoria, but they only saw the mask. A stranger even among friends. I was attempting to be human and failing.
With Chloe, I felt…human. My mask came off, even around other people. I felt…connected.
When Jefferson came for me, that is why I fought so hard, and hated him so much. He took Chloe from me. She couldn't die. She had to keep on living, even if I did not. She is worth so much more than I am. I jumped timelines so many times I got confused, barely able to remember what was happening. One truth stayed with me throughout, and one truth gave me focus: Chloe had to live.
By the lighthouse when I accepted the universe's shit when I took the blame for the storm, Chloe did what only Chloe does: she called me amazing. My mind cried out in defiance. It didn't want to accept praise and acknowledgment that I might be worth a damn. For once though, my heart let the words in - and believed in them.
And Chloe continued to be the amazing person I know her to be, the same fantastic person that pulled my mask away so many years ago. She offered herself willingly, to die so that others might live. When I revealed my selfishness, saying she was all that mattered to me, she didn't call me out, recoil in horror, or throw me away. Instead, she ignored it, focusing only on her selfishness and how much love and friendship I had shown her. How much she believed in me.
Without her by my side, if I stood on that hill alone with the same choice, the universe would have chosen for me. Selected through my inaction, inability to act. With her by my side. With her building up my confidence. With Chloe Price believing in me, I made the only choice I could.
She did not berate my choice. As her hand took mine, I resolved to throw the mask away, to stop listening to my demons. I may never feel fully human, but I can live like one. I may feel a stranger among humans, but I can let myself feel. Because Chloe Price believes in me, and at last I believe in me.