I had a spur of a moment one night exactly at twelve o'clock and I went against my rule of not writing anything except my chapter fic, so you readers should be glad. Haha. Just kidding.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Max, Mariam or Beyblades. I also do not own the songs Unlove You and The Way I Loved You by Elise Estrada and Taylor Swift respectfully.
The stone was cool and rough against her slim and slender legs, but she didn't mind. The rock wall beneath her was the least of her worries that night. She listened patiently to the pounding of the surf below her, knowing that even if she rolled ever so slightly to the right, she would no doubt plunge to an unfortunate end. Max would not like that one bit.
She was so far from home. In fact, the blue-haired girl didn't even know what she was doing in back in New York. Max had made it pretty obvious that it was now her turn to wait.
How could he do this to her? Especially now that she had come around. She had debated the idea for years, wondering if she should even bother to tell Max the truth. Of course, now that she had travelled half-way around the world for him he had changed his mind for the time being.
Her feelings were playing tricks on her. Her heart was telling her to stay in New York, begging, she mused. On the other hand, her self-respect and dignity was telling her to walk away. There was nothing left for her in New York now.
"Mariam?"
The blue-haired girl turned her head to the side so that she was now looking away from the ocean. There he was, in all his glory, leaning against the railing on the other side of the sidewalk, his face half hidden in the shadows of the maple tree that blocked out the sky above. They watched as a single mahogany leaf dropped from the tree and landed on Mariam before being blown away by the sea breeze.
"Hello Max," she responded coolly, breaking the silence between them. "What are you doing out here at such a late hour? You should know that New York is no place for children at ten o'clock at night."
"And you should know that in New York, a stray nineteen year-old is prey for thugs that only live for a life of drugs and other unmentionables," he replied casually, as if they were talking about the weather.
"Still Max, a boy-"
"I'm sixteen, Mariam."
"Oh goody," she said dryly. "Now you can drive us out on all our dates." She waited patiently for his reaction to her remark, but it certainly wasn't the one she was expecting.
"You can't drive, can you Mariam?"
She was taken a back by his answer. How could he effect her so easily? It never used to be this way. It was like they were living in a parallel universe, where she was now the chaser and Max was now the chase-e.
"That's beside the point," she managed to reply, though she found it to be a rather weak comeback. She decided to turn the tables, allow her to be in control of the conversation.
"You never told me you were dating her," she snapped, happy to land on a topic where she felt more in control of the outcome. ""No telephone call, no nothing."
The blonde shrugged. "You don't have a phone and it cost too much for long-distance anyway."
"Letters, then."
Max shrugged again. "It didn't seem relevant and on topic," he replied nonchalantly. The comment certainly got Mariam's blood boiling though.
"Irrelevant?" she snapped. "You, my hopeless romantic, decide that it is irrelevant to tell me that you are now courting someone?" Max blushed a little at this comment and the female 'blader took the opportunity to continue her rant. "Max, what am I supposed to do now? Unlove you?"
"Ouch, that stung Mariam," Max replied sourly. "But now you have to go through what I did: waiting around for you to finally realize what we have."
"Which is nothing," Mariam spat, "because of her." She spoke the word like it was deadly. Why Emily had ever decided to grace Max with her presence was a mystery to Mariam, but she was disliking the girl even more by the second.
"I can't just dump her now," Max retorted. "She's been waiting around for three years for this chance and besides, my mom wouldn't be too happy about me breaking her heart."
Mariam snorted at Max's comment. "You? Break someone's heart?" she laughed. "I'd like to see that. Anyway, when has your mom ever stopped you before?"
"Good point," the blonde replied complimenting her for the ability to identify a key note in his wording. "Bad example. Okay, we've been dating for six days now. She's been waiting for three years for this. What do you want me tell her? 'I have to break up with you because someone I like better finally likes me back?'. I don't think so Mariam. Emily and I are together for at least two weeks."
Mariam scowled childishly and swung her legs to the side and stood up from the wall. "Fine," she responded. "I don't even know what I was thinking, Max. Here I am in New York City, and I don't even have enough money to get back home."
Max gaped. "You can't get home?" he asked, obviously shocked. He hadn't anticipated this and Mariam smiled as she pulled him in.
"I was thinking of doing a bit of 'Blading around the city and win up a bit of money for a ticket home. I hadn't figured in Her into the equation."
"Oh, so now we're talking math?" Max asked, trying to lighten the mood. "You know I suck at it, Mariam."
There was a sudden whiz as Mariam's Beyblade rushed past his ear and bounced off a post behind him. On instinct, his anger flared and he whipped out his own 'blade, glaring at Mariam.
"What was that for?" he complained as her Beyblade came hurtling back into her hand.
"For being daft," she snapped back, reloading Sharkrash just in case Max decided he wanted to battle.
"Well sorry," he replied, the sarcasm heavy in his voice and Mariam could see the anger, mixed with sadness in his eyes. She sighed and lowered her blade, but kept her stance. She wouldn't be caught off guard.
"If you can't take it then why don't you just leave?" he asked her, barely registering the words that were floating out of his mouth. He could instantly see the way her face changed, hardening slightly and her eyes flickering with the same mix of anger and sadness that were in his own eyes.
"Fine," she snapped back, turning her back on him so that she was watching the ocean again. The pounding of the surf masked his footsteps and when she turned around again, the blonde was gone.
Mariam ended up staying in New York for almost the whole month. Besides battling other 'bladers for a bit of prize money she had taken up a job at a local restaurant as a waitress. She wasn't enjoying herself, but she made herself push on.
But it was like part of her had died; the part with Max in it. She hadn't seen him or talked to him since that fateful evening down by the ocean. Sometimes at night she'd lie awake and just think, think of what they could be but how they had both turned away because of one disagreement. Maybe it meant that they weren't meant to be.
It was a warm evening when Mariam found herself sitting in Central Park, considering her options. She had enough money to return to Japan now, but she was still wondering about Max. Had he broken up with Emily yet? Was he looking for her? She shook the thoughts out of her head quickly and headed back to the place she had rented for the month.
As she drew closer to the place she had rented she began to realize the startling silence. The birds were not chirping and there were no cars driving down the street. It was strange indeed, and Mariam knew that Max would take it as a strong omen, but she instead shook it off and decided not to think too much of it.
She unlocked the door the basement suite and took a look around. She had a few bags, littered around from a bit of shopping and a couple of duffle bags that she had brought with her at the beginning of the month. It wasn't until she ventured into her bedroom that she found something out of place.
It was a small, white envelope and it was resting delicately on her pillow as if it had been there all month. When the blue-haired girl picked it up though, she instantly knew who it was from.
The cursive on the front was large and messy, but it was familiar. She traced her name delicately before turning the envelope over and ripping it open. There was a single sheet inside, written hastily on the back of a kids menu from the very restaurant she had been working at all this time.
She can't see the smile I'm faking. My heart's not breaking because I'm not feeling anything at all.
And you were wild and crazy. Just so frustrating, intoxicating and complicated. Seems now you got away by some mistake.
I miss the screaming and fighting and the kissing in the rain. It's two a.m. and I'm cursing your name. I'm so in love that I acted insane. That's the way I love you.
Mariam continued to glare at the letter before ripping off the bottom of the menu and wrote her response.
Three days after Mariam had left for home, Max received a letter. It had no return address and barely had his own. There were only three letters on the front of the envelope: M-a-x.
Her cursive was better than his, looping in a friendly sort of way and Max sighed. He took his time opening the envelope, unlike the sender had three days previous. When he finally got it open he was surprised to find what he thought was the letter he sent Mariam, but the paper had been torn. He flipped it over and read the message on the back.
Breaking down and coming undone? I knew you'd come around.
It's a roller-coaster kind of rush and I never knew I could feel this much. That's the way I love you.
It was much shorter than his own letter, but it gave Max great comfort. When his mom came home that day she was surprised to find what she thought was a poem from Emily, taped onto the fridge door.