"And remember, guys- any songs you'd like me to cover, just say it in the comments! Max out." A smile, along with very nearly fumbling a guitar to the ground, and the video was over, aside from the boring business of balancing the audio and exporting it. After a year and a half of working on her covers, Max had gotten fairly proficient at it, along with the occasional aid of a friend, and didn't stress out about it as much as she did when she started out on Youtube.

Of course, there wasn't much to worry about in all honesty. When put in comparison to the tens of thousands of Youtube channels offering acoustic covers, Max was a fair bit ahead of the competition, from a mixture of editing to keep the audio crisp and with over a decade of guitar playing. Was she the best? Of course not, and most likely never would be. Was she bothered by that fact? No moreso than the usual person was.

As she stood up to place her guitar back in the corner of her room, Max couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh. She wasn't making the videos for anything except for her own pleasure, but the recent dip in views was rather disheartening. She couldn't even pinpoint the reason, either- unaware if her playing had become worse, or if people were simply tired of acoustic covers. It wasn't something she could easily find out, much to her sadness.

She couldn't let the thoughts plague her, not at that time. The channel, despite how much effort she put into it, was a hobby. A hobby that generated a miniscule profit, but a hobby nevertheless. She had more important things to worry about, things to prioritize ahead of her music. After all, the autumn term was ending in a matter of weeks. There were sure to be exams and quizzes that, whilst ultimately being unimportant, would nevertheless result in teachers pressuring them to study for. She certainly knew that her photography professor was still hounding her about the "Everyday Heroes" contest, the deadline for which was approaching even quicker than end of term, and she only had two photos she'd even consider submitting to it.

Before she could wallow in her sadness and doubt for too much longer, her phone chirped out, a tuneless little ditty ripped from her own friends channel. She scrambled to the bedside table of her room and picked it up, cursing herself for not bothering to see who was calling. If she'd answered a spam caller once more, she'd be roped into the conversation on buying useless insurance for at least half an hour, unsure of how to exit the conversation without feeling like a bigger jackass than the winner of the "Tennessee State Fair Mule Competition."

"Hey, Slam-Max!" Vaguely whiny male voice that somehow managed to be endearing, a cheerfulness in it that was rarely-if-ever shaken off, cheesy nickname… There was only one person that could ever be. Taking a seat on her bed, leaning against the wall, Max replied as best as she could.

"Hey, Warren Peace… How's things?" Of course, if he was going to stick to the cheesy nicknames, then so would she. After knowing one another for over two years they'd inevitably repeated them countless times, but that didn't matter, did it? Not between friends. "And before you ask, no, I haven't shown Mister Jefferson that selfie you took next to the lighthouse."

"What? I'm telling you, Max. That'd win your contest. It takes a hero to take a selfie on a cliff, especially at night time. Anyone else would be too scared!" His voice had taken on that offended tone it only ever did when they were alone together, small digs between friends that ultimately never mattered. "Anyway, anyway… I know you're still too much of a hipster to get on Twitter-" "Guilty as charged, captain."

"But one miss Pricey Encounter, AKA Chloe Price, AKA the girl you'll never stop crushing on till the day you either die or court one of Blackwells many skater boys…. Is currently down at the Two Whales, and will be for a while." Max let out a tiny giggle after a self-indignant huff, pouting as if she were the biggest diva to ever grace Blackwell. "Now, I've missed out on going for a meal with Stella whilst waiting for you to finish your latest revolutionary video. Will you do me the honors of a meal at the Two Whales?"

"Well, I was going to do something important, like finishing the chocolates my mom mailed me, but…" Max let out an exasperated sigh and moved from her sitting position to grab her bag, double checking that her purse was still inside of it. "You just try to not crash on the drive there, okay? I'm too cute to meet the Reaper."

"Sure thing. Meet you in the parking lot, Maximum Cauliflower." Head shaking from Warren's punderful existence, Max hurried down to meet Warren at his battered car, the dorms surprisingly quiet minus the odd giggling from Dana's room. She didn't feel as if the two were on good enough terms for her to ask exactly what the girl was up to, and was in too much of a rush to actually care.

Thankfully, none of the campuses incredibly annoying security guards saw fit to annoy Max and she was sitting on Warren's passenger seat before even ten minutes had passed. He gave her a small smile before pulling out and taking to the road, the radio set to one of the local broadcasting stations- mindless pop for a mindless drive. "So… When you said that Chloe is down at the Whales, did you mean she posted it on her own twitter, or the one for her channel?"

Silence was the truth and revealed Warren's answer, Max sighing. "I swear. You are gonna get your ass kicked one day, Warren."

"Maybe, but if it's from a pretty girl I won't complain too much, you know?" His hands flew up in a pacifying gesture as they stopped at a red light, wincing at Max's near murderous look. "Heyhey. Joking. I'm not gonna go antagonizing your crush, promise. I mean, intentionally. You know I've got issues with people liking me." Which was true, but more thanks to Warren having the type of personality she'd class as "sweet yet annoying little brother" rather than anything actually frustrating. He was much more endearing once you got to know him, but many were unwilling to get past that first teen boy height hurdle.

"Good. I'll keep being on Stella's good side again. Unless she ask-"

"Asks you to play Wonderwall, again. Max, I never knew someone who likes Oasis could be so… Aggressive towards one of their songs. I mean, you know I love cheesy, terrible movies. I love Ed Wood! but you won't see me blowing up when someone mentions Glen or Glend-" He sighed, only just catching Max's irked expression. "Rambling again. Sorry, sorry. I just think you get irrational about them."

"And I think that you're in love with a bunch of movie dudes who died back when you weren't even born. Let's agree to disagree." She shrugged and glanced out the window, surprised to find them pulling up to the diner's parking lot already. Much as they could annoy each other as friends do at times, it certainly did help them in passing the time. The diminutive girl hopped out of the car and motioned for Warren to follow quickly, going over things in her head once more. She needed, beyond anything else, to not appear like she was a rambling fan once more.

She and Chloe had met before- thankfully when Max was in her "let's dye my hair the colours of the rainbow!" phase, unrecognizable in comparison to the present- and she wished to avoid appearing like an utter fool again to someone she looked up to/crushed on/was very possibly jealous in a tiny way about the amount of views she averaged with every video. She needed, above anything- above everything- else to appear like a normal person, going out for dinner with her equally dorky friend, happening to meet a cute girl she occasionally watched on youtube.

She could do that. She wasn't just anyone. She was Maxine Caulfield, guitar playing genius and champion-level flirter. She'd knock Chloe off her feet. She'd dazzle her. She'd make the girl regret living in Arcadia Bay without knowing Max beforehand. She'd-

Get knocked onto her ass thanks to the diner's door opening into her face.