Author's note: I couldn't stop thinking about "What if Max knew the information the players knew?" Especially regarding the videos. I also wondered how Max would react to Mr. Jefferson being a strong suspect. So I wrote this to get it off of my mind. I hope other people do this kind of prompt too cause my writing skills are average. I mainly went off of memory, so I apologize if some of the quotes aren't exactly right.
It had been the craziest Monday ever. The tornado vision. The shooting. Becoming Nathan Prescott's enemy. Reuniting with Chloe. Oh yeah, and being a fucking time machine.
But there's no rest for the weary, Max reminded herself as she unceremoniously dropped the books she picked up from the library onto the couch. Everything is ready on my end. Time to see what info Warren was able to dig up.
Once at the computer, she had no problem getting to her inbox. The problem was that she had two new e-mails, one from Warren and one from...findherfindher . Could it be referring to Rachel?
Wowser. The day I learn about Rachel, I get a mysterious message. Chloe was right. This isn't your normal missing girl fiasco. Hesitating for only a second, Max opened it.
That was the first video.
Red binders with girls' names. The last one (latest one?) said Rachel, which implied Rachel Amber. There hadn't been any clues to the video's location. Nothing special about a black shelf.
What is this? She quickly typed a reply asking just that along with the obvious "who are you?" question.
Next she texted Chloe. She might know something, or at the very least they could bounce ideas off each other. As she waited for a reply, Max turned her attention to her original plan for the night, time travel research. Before she knew it, morning arrived.
The Two Whales Diner smelled as welcoming as ever, and the booth Chloe asked her to grab had some rad scribbles; yet, that couldn't dissipate the ominous thoughts on Max's mind.
Max shuddered as she thought about Kate's account of what happened at that Vortex Club party. Drugged and taken to some strange white room. Is it the same room as the video? It had a black shelf, but that doesn't mean the room couldn't have white walls? It was a stretch, but there weren't many other clues to work on so...
"What up, Max."
While she had been busy pondering, Chloe had slid into the seat opposite of her. Max was certain that if the two of them put their heads together, they could solve this mystery.
"Did you get my text?"
Chloe's face hardened. "Yeah. I did." She took a deep breath before continuing. "When you were in David's garage did you see anything like those binders in the video?"
Max briefly thought back to her escapade in the garage. It was when she discovered that David had surveillance cameras all over Chloe's house...That's it! Next to the TV!
"I saw a red binder next to that surveillance TV in the garage, but it didn't have a label."
"I knew my step-fucker was up to no good. He's a paranoid ass, and he made it clear that he didn't like Rachel hanging out with me." Chloe seethed.
"Hey, we don't know for sure. He's a surveillance freak, but when I found some files he made in the garage, they were in a plain manilla folder, not a binder. I never saw a bookshelf full of binders anywhere. Unless you know a place." Max countered, trying to diffuse Chloe's anger.
Chloe huffed and crossed her arms, "I still think he's involved with this." Suddenly, her face brightened and her lips curved into an eager grin. "I almost forgot." She shifted her weight so that she was leaning forward, her eyes intently watching Max. "So, you said you have the power to rewind time."
As if to compensate for the relatively peaceful start of the day, a terrible, deadly conga line of events took over.
Chloe almost died twice; first by accidentally shooting herself, then by getting stuck in the tracks and hit by a train. There were the time power nosebleeds, and the time power fainting. Frank, Chloe's dealer, threatened her with a knife, then Max herself after she counter-threatened him with the gun. Nathan and Victoria followed up on their "room renovation" and told her to 'watch herself' before class (So much threatening today). Finally, Kate almost committed suicide due to the video of her at the Vortex Club party.
Max rested her head on her desk and sighed. Even after all that, she was called into the principal's office to blame someone. She chose Nathan. Cause fuck Nathan! He tried to rape Chloe, shot Chloe (technically not in this time, but still), beat up Warren, most likely drugged Kate, and took her to that strange white room.
She was about to continue ruminating about Nathan when her phone sounded an alert of a new message.
Chloe?Or Warren? Maybe even Kate? Max checked the sender and narrowed her eyes. Yet another private number. How many people have my number?! This is ridiculous! As she read the message, she paled.
"Check your e-mail."
A few papers scattered as Max scrambled to open her laptop and log into her account. Right at the top of her inbox was another e-mail from that "findherfinder" person. So she clicked on it. Max searched for any reply to her questions, but found none. Of course these sort of things have to be cryptic. Then she saw the attachment.
That was the second video.
It showed the binders again before slowly panning over to a glass table top. And there was...Kate?! This red binder seemed to be in progress. Max could see now that the binders were most likely photo binders by the page that had Kate's photo in black and white. A brown drink (Alcohol?) and two prescription pill bottles sat near the corner of the frame.
Once again, Max didn't have time to think much about what she saw. She had just gotten a text from Chloe.
Warm sunlight tickled Max's eyelids, easing her awake. She turned her head and smiled at the girl next to her.
Chloe. It was nice to be partners in crime (and time, as Chloe had said). She would treasure that heart-to-heart they had in the pool. On top of that, they now had some significant evidence to sort through...
After a quick morning selfie.
Max deftly swung up the camera. Just as she pressed the button—"Photobomb!" rang out Chloe cheerfully from behind. This is better than a selfie, Max thought warmly as she reviewed the photo before carefully putting it into her bag.
It was time to get down to business. Slowly laying back down with Chloe, Max told her about the second video.
"Hmm. Someone who's keeping photo binders girls...We thought Rachel's was the latest, but it's actually that Kate March chick." Chloe said as a starting point.
"And we know that bad shit has happened both of them, seemingly in binder order. Rachel went missing. Kate was drugged and taken somewhere." Max added.
"Step-dildo and Nathan? They both have cameras and have been photo taking creepers. They were also involved with Rachel and Kate, in their respective asshole ways."
"I don't think it's David or Nathan." Chloe turned her head toward Max and gave an incredulous look. Max started again, "Hey, hear me out first."
"Like I said in the diner yesterday. David kept his photos in a manilla folder using paperclips. Also his photos were in color, not black and white."
"What about the red binder?"
"Actually, I've seen the same style red binders around Blackwell. I think we're thinking in the right direction." Chloe still looked unconvinced.
"It's not just the photography and organization style. According to Kate, Nathan took her to a 'bright, white room' where she heard a separate 'soft voice' before being drugged again. Is David even capable of having a soft voice?"
"Not that I've heard," admitted Chloe. "Don't get cocky yet, rockstar. What about Nathan?"
"I think Nathan is involved, but I don't think he's the one taking the pictures. When we were snooping around Blackwell, I looked through the entries for the Everday Hero contest. His entry was in black and white, but it was a distanced shot with the subject to the side. Kate's binder photo was a centered upper body shot."
Max continued, "I admit that I haven't seen any of his other photos, but generally, for a contest you do what you're good at."
Chloe thought for a second. "But what about the booze and drugs? Nathan's into both. Plus, you told me that you found some serious meds in his gym locker."
"Well first off, we don't know if that glass had alcohol in it, but as much of a rich kid as Nathan is, I imagine him swigging straight from the bottle, not taking the time to pour a nice glass. That might belong to the other person, that 'soft voice'. The drugs on the table may be Nathan's."
Max furrowed her eyebrows. "I guess what we need to find out is who this 'soft voice' is. Any suspects there?"
A long silence stretched between them. Max had almost thought Chloe fell back asleep until she suddenly sat up mumbling.
"Sorry Chloe. What was that?" Max decided that it would be best to sit up too.
"What about that hot teacher guy, Mr. Jefferson?"
What? No way.
"What? No way. Mr. Jefferson is cool."
"Max, I listened to you about step-dick and Nathan. You can listen to me about Mr. Jefferson." Chloe crossed her arms and stared at Max, as if challenging her.
Sighing a little, Max settled into a more comfortable sitting position and nodded.
"You know how you were talking about photo styles and stuff. Isn't Mr. Jefferson known for that black and white style. When it was announced that he would be teaching at Blackwell, people would not shut up about about his 'noir angel.' Also, those large pictures of his in the courtyard were all in black and white."
Max nodded. It was true; Mr. Jefferson really liked that technique. In fact, yesterday, he was going to give a lecture about that, chiaroscuro. It didn't strictly apply to black and white photos, but black and white was all about contrast.
"Since he's a professional, he would organize his work professionally too. Like in those red binders. You said that you've seen them around Blackwell, so he probably has some."
Max couldn't deny that that was plausible. She picked at the lint on the sheets.
"Kate said that she was taken to a 'bright, white' room, right? Doesn't that remind you of a place you'd shoot professional pictures? I remember when Joyce dragged me and step-douche down to one of those photo places for a 'family' portrait. Ignoring the props and shit, the room was really white and they have those bright bulbs."
Max had gathered fourteen pieces of lint so far. She really didn't want to think about it. Really didn't want to...but it was gnawing at her, another photography connection...
"Rachel in the dark room."
What if it wasn't just some creepy rambling? What if it was actually referring to a dark room for photography? Could Mr. Jefferson really have a part in all this?
She looked straight at Chloe and took a breath. And another. "Chloe..." Max quickly explained her thoughts.
"Holy shit." Chloe shook her head and smacked the bed. Eyes downcast, she quietly spoke. "Rachel. She...she wanted to be a model. Jefferson is a photographer. She met someone who changed her life..." She trailed off, face becoming stony.
Max understood the implication. She reached out to Chloe, letting her hand come to rest on her upper back. Using gentle strokes, up and down the back, Max comforted her friend. We're not just messing around with guesses anymore. This is a serious theory.
Just what could he be doing? She thought back to Kate. I don't want to upset Chloe more than she already is, but we have to keep going. If we can figure out exactly what he's doing, then we might be able to stop it.
"Chloe? Remember Kate's story? Maybe...Mr. Jefferson has Nathan drug girls so that he can photograph them." She didn't sound very confident though. Something else was nagging at her...
Chloe's voice was fierce. "Oh yeah Max. I'm sure he just 'photographs' them."
"W-well, I mean he could be doing other things too, but what about Victoria? She totally came on to him last night and he just shut her down."
"Fuck! I don't know! Maybe she's not his type!" Head sinking down, Chloe began to sob. "Rachel. Oh, Rachel..."
Way to go, Max."Sorry, I was just trying to be all deductive." She wrapped her arms around Chloe.
After a few tender minutes Chloe pulled away. "Max. I don't think I'll be able to ask him without murdering the guy, so can you ask him where the fuck Rachel is? After you kick him in the balls a few times with your rewind power?"
Max nodded solemnly.
Chloe quickly wiped her eyes and started to rummage through her stuff. "I-I think I'm gonna just wake and bake now." Upon finding her supplies, she turned back towards Max. "You can wear some of Rachel's clothes. She's your size." Chloe sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Don't worry. We'll still go through step-facist's files today. Extra evidence and stuff. Maybe even something on that Jefferson fucker."
Leaving her to her own devices, Max quietly put on the first pair of clothes she saw and headed out of Chloe's room. It might be too painful to see me wear Rachel's clothes.
As she started down the stairs, Chloe's angry words echoed in her mind.
"Maybe she's not his type!"
Mr. Jefferson said something on Monday. Something that could apply to Rachel and Kate, but not Victoria. I thought it was just part of the lecture, but could it have referred to his, ugh, 'tastes.'
"I could frame any one of you in a dark corner and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn't that too easy? Too obvious? What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence?"
Beauty...Innocence...
That fit Kate. But Rachel? That girl was a little bit of everything. "Positive and negative, like a battery," Max muttered using Samuel's description. Almost everyone seemed to be captivated by her. Maybe that would fit the 'beauty' category.
Victoria is beautiful...well, until she opens her mouth or does some mean crap. She doesn't give off an innocent vibe either.
Max reached the last step and exhaled. She knew that she should hurry to the kitchen, but one last thing was bothering her.
If this is true, who is the next victim going to be?
Max felt that bacon and eggs was the better choice. Plenty of protein for those little gray cells. And it was just plain delicious. She swallowed.
Th next victim. A sip of coffee.
Who does Mr. Jefferson consider beautiful and/or innocent? Maybe someone he's been paying attention to lately? Considering what she heard from Stella, Jefferson may have been giving extra attention to Rachel, which probably sparked the rumor. Mr. Wells had mentioned that Kate was acting as Jefferson's assistant, which gave him the opportunity to be closer to her than usual.
…
...Ah!
The terrible thought had hit her so hard, she choked on her coffee. She sputtered a bit before regaining her normal breathing rhythm.
No way! No fucking way!
Max thought back to class on Monday. The way he had responded to her versus how he had responded to Victoria seemed suspicious now.
"Nice work Victoria."
"Someone has been reading as well as posing. Nice job, Max." "So far Max is way ahead of everyone." Wasn't that a little biased?
There was also the Everyday Hero contest. I thought it was just a normal teacher-encouraging-student sort of thing but...
"I see you there Max Caulfield. Don't you even think about leaving until we talk about your entry."
"Speaking of participation, there are a few souls here who have yet to enter the contest. Like Max Caulfield, for example. Who I know can't wait to enter, right?" She could have sworn there was a strange edge to his voice when he said that.
He reminded other students about their entries too, but she was the only one he asked to speak to after class and singled out. What if Victoria hadn't been there at that time? She seriously did not want to keep going down this line of thought, but...!
"The winner will fly out with me to San Francisco where you'll be feted by the art world."
Does he want me to go with him?! What's he gonna...! Max felt like throwing up all over the table. How could she go to school now?
She wanted to just stay here, with Chloe, forever, and pause the time around them. No Blackwell. No Nathan. No David. No Rachel. No damned tornado. But ultimately, all she could do was tweak time here and there before her head started to throb with pain.
"Time waits for no one," she quoted bitterly.