Victoria Chase never has a problem getting anything that money can buy.
When she was 5, she got her first grand piano, a Steinway & Sons. Her parents wanted her to live up to the Chase name and to love all things artistic. Victoria rather be out playing catch but she is a Chase, she cannot let her father down.
When she was 6, she got her first camera. It was not a Hasselblad, but it was digital. She was the envy of all her friends. Her parents made her do up her photography portfolio from a young age. As they say, you gotta start them young.
When she was 7, she got her first game console, the Play Station 2. It paved the way for her love of games and anime and beautiful graphics. The very little pleasures her parents allow for her childhood.
When she was 12, she got her first DSLR, a Nikon D3. It was not a Hasselblad, but it was her first pro DSLR camera. This is the first step to becoming a professional photographer, the first step of becoming worthy to be called a Chase.
When she was 13, she got a MacBook Air, so that she could edit her photographs and start participating in photography competitions.
When she was 16, she got her first car, a BMW Z4. It was a flashy, black coupe and all her friends wanted to have a go in her new ride. She was the envy of all her schoolmates. She was, after all, a Chase.
Victoria Chase never has a problem getting anything that money can buy.
It is the things that money cannot buy that Victoria has a problem getting.
Like a birthday dinner with her parents. A Christmas Eve spent with just her family instead of with a bunch of rich strangers. An outing to the Space Needle with her father and not with her nanny and driver.
Recognition and praise for her achievements from her father and mother.
As Victoria looks at the silly tourist picture Max Caulfield took with her dad, she cannot help but feel a tinge of jealousy. This hipster trash who can never get her answers right in class, who only knows how to stammer like a loser when the teacher speaks to her, has a more fulfilling childhood than she has.
Pathetic.
Victoria shakes her head and tries to snap out of it. She is definitely not in Max's room to look at how happy hipster trash looks with her dad. Victoria is here on a mission. She needs to get her hands on Max's submission photo, destroys it before Max submits it for the Everyday Heroes Photo Contest. She is not sure where Max keeps the photo, but she is certain that Max is ready to submit it. She has seen Max loitering around Mark Jefferson, looking like a lost sheep this morning, with a polaroid photo in her hand. Gosh. Who on earth submits a polaroid photo for a professional photography competition? A hipster trash, that's who!
She is certain Max has not submitted her photograph because Victoria makes sure to distract Jefferson long enough that Max has no way to even talk to him.
But Victoria cannot let her guard down. She has noticed how Jefferson has been raving over Max's work, even though she can't answer any of his questions in class to save her life. Victoria has also seen Max's work. For polaroid photos, damn, her work is good. Max has an eye for detail and is good at capturing raw emotions of her subject at just the right time. It is as if Max can manipulate time to capture every moment so precisely.
It is unfair.
This hipster trash does not even read her school material before class and she can be studying in Blackwell's most prestigious photography class on a scholarship? This is absurd. Life is unfair.
Victoria grit her teeth in anger. She is a Chase. She has prepared her whole life to be perfect in everything she does. And she is the daughter of the owners of the Chase Space, she has to win the Everyday Heroes contest.
By hook or by crook.
After snooping for another 15 minutes, Victoria gives up searching Max's room. There doesn't seem to be any photo in her room that is for the competition. She is feeling the heat now. Victoria is certain that the photo she has submitted is good, in fact, she is certain her photo is great, and she is certain her photo is better than all her classmates' submissions. Except… except maybe Max's. That is her only uncertainty. Max's raw talent versus her hard work… will she be able to win? She can't leave that to chance. She has to win the competition.
By hook or by crook.
There is only one way left.
"I've got all photos except one from Max"
Victoria decides to take matters into her own hands and talks to Jefferson that evening, on the pretense of asking him for help on her portfolio. She needs to make sure she wins the contest.
It is going well. She now knows that Max has yet to submit her stupid photo to Jefferson.
"I'll give you a one-word sneak preview of Max's photo – selfie," Victoria said sarcastically. Yeah, that is highly likely, considering that Max is a selfie ho. Maybe Max is secretly a narcissist.
"Listen, you've seen my entry. You know it's better than that." Victoria knows she has to move in for the kill. She hates doing this, so, so much, but she has to press on.
By hook or by crook.
"Wouldn't that be so cool to hang out together in San Francisco, Mark?" She has set the bait. Take it, Jefferson.
"Stick to Mr. Jefferson, Victoria. Please? And, uh, I haven't picked a winner yet." Shit, this is not going her way. Victoria puts on her game face and presses on.
"You already love my work, so it's not like you're playing favorites. Just imagine if you picked my photo though... we would have to spend a lot of time together. That could be... fun, don't you think?"
Argh, Victoria feels sick the moment she pushes those words out of her mouth, but this shall do it. It always does.
"I'm going to think that you didn't say any of that." Jefferson frowns, obviously displeased with her proposition.
Victoria freezes. This is not the response she is expecting. She has specially put on her best cashmere sweater, a short, tight skirt with black tights to highlight the length of her legs. This usually works. Why is it not working? Is Jefferson gay?
By hook or by crook.
"You might as well choose me", Victoria tries to be firm, but her voice starts to quiver, "otherwise I might have to tell people you offered to choose my photo for favors or something..."
"As a favor to your future, I'll also ignore that undisguised threat. This conversation is officially over, Miss Chase, I suggest you go back to your dorm now." Jefferson has enough of this nonsense. He turns and walks away, leaving Victoria shell shock, gaping like a fish.
"Wait- I only-"
But Jefferson is gone. She has failed. Not only has she not secured a win for herself, she might just have sabotaged her chances of winning by pissing Jefferson off. Victoria is knee-deep in the shithole that she just digs herself. She presses her thumb on her temple and tries, in vain, to rub her headache away.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Victoria Chase never has a problem getting anything that money can buy.
"That's so stupid!"
It is the things that money cannot buy that Victoria has a problem getting.
Victoria is sitting on her bed, drinking scotch from the bottle to drown herself in her own self-pity, mulling over her stupid mistake of approaching Jefferson to seduce him… or more like to threaten him. Fucking gold, Victoria, fucking gold. She is now officially a loser and an embarrassment.
Victoria opens up her phone messages and looks at the last message from her father.
Father : Victoria, I expect you to win the photo contest. You are a Chase, so I am sure this will be an easy win for you. Winning this can open doors for you and make up for all the rejection letters you have received lately. Don't be an embarrassment and lose this to an amateur. I expect your work to be showcased in Zeitgeist Gallery, by hook or by crook.
Her father's message looks like a fucking corporate email. It might as well have been, if it was not sent via SMS.
Victoria scoff, takes a big swill of her scotch, retch from the burning sensation as the alcohol hits her throat, and starts heaving. Pathetic. She is so pathetic.
Ding!
A new message received.
The name, "Lamefield" is shown on her screen. What the hell does Lamefield want from her?
Lamefield : Hi Victoria. We need to talk. See u at ur room tmr at 8pm?
Victoria rolled her eyes. What does this hipster trash want from her? Yes, they talked on Monday. Yes, Lamefield showed her kindness she knows she doesn't deserve from anyone she bullies. Yes, Lamefield is too nice and naïve for her own good. Yes, Lamefield is blessed with beautiful blue eyes and irritatingly distracting freckles that seem to shine when she is focusing on taking a photo with that lame, retro camera. Yes, Lamefield squeaks like a mouse when she speaks but she has the most disgustingly sweet voice that Victoria has ever heard. Yes, Lamefield is everything that Victoria isn't and it is driving Victoria crazy.
Victoria : Wat do u want loser? I told ya, were not friends. Dun msg me again
Lamefield : I want to know y u went into my room. And I saw u with Jefferson earlier. I heard everything. I'll come find u tmr at 8pm.
Damn it. How does Max know she was snooping around in her room? And why the hell is Max in the campus so late at night? How much has Max heard? Damn it. This day is fast becoming the worst day of Victoria's life. She is losing control of the situation, she is losing control of her life. She needs to think of a way to shut the waif hipster's mouth.
Victoria taps her feet repeatedly on her bedroom floor. She has been sitting on her couch for the past half hour, not able to do anything but tap her feet while her hands try to hold her knees down firmly on the floor to calm herself down, but it is not working. Her imagination is going a million miles an hour, wondering what kind of blackmail Max wants out of her.
At exactly 8 pm, there is an uncertain knock on her door. Victoria jumps out of her couch and rushes to open the door. Max Fucking Caulfield is standing outside her room, her hand holding her other arm like a wounded animal, with an apprehensive look on her face. The moment Max sees Victoria, she takes a deep breath and walks into Victoria's room like she owns the place… like she owns Victoria. Victoria cannot believe this is the same girl that has shown her kindness when she was sprayed with paint just two days ago. This same girl whom Victoria has bullied since the start of the school term is now in her room, holding a piece of information that will break Victoria's reputation in school, a valuable piece of information that may even get Victoria expelled.
"So how much do you need to keep that big mouth of yours shut?" Victoria does not wait for Max to sit down nor open her mouth before throwing a cheque on the table. "Is 2 grand enough for your hobo ass? Bet you have never even seen so much money in your life before. It certainly is a lot of money for your polaroids. You can even finally get a decent outfit for your hobo self."
Victoria looks at Max as she widens her eyes and opens her mouth in disbelief. Max's eyes dart towards the cheque on the table, back to Victoria's face, then back to the cheque again, mouth gaping like a goldfish. Victoria can see the color drains from Max's face, before flushing all the way back again in what seems like pure anger. Max balls her fists up and takes a step towards Victoria. Victoria yelps and instinctively places her hands up to her face to block, in case Max throws a punch onto her flawless face. But Max stops short in front of her, her body shaking so badly, Victoria thinks she might be going into a fit.
Then Max does a strange gesture, her right hand is up in the air like she is trying to stop Victoria. At first, Victoria thinks Max is raising her hand to slap her, but Max is just holding it out, and breathing so heavily, her chest is heaving. Victoria dare not put her hands down from her face. She knows anger when she sees it and Max is fuming.
"Don't you insult me, Victoria," Max says as she lowers her hand and balls it into a fist again. "I am only here to talk. Don't make me regret this."
Max takes a step back and sits down on Victoria's couch, places her hand on her chest to calm herself down. Victoria looks at her, not knowing what to do. She never is good with direct confrontation without her entourage around to back her up, and she certainly does not expect Max Caulfield to be the type to fly into a rage. Victoria just stands there looking at Max with a guilty puppy look. The tension in the air is so thick you can slice it with a knife.
Max breaks the silence first with a sigh. "Victoria, I know you have been in my room. I just want to know why were you in there and what the heck were you doing."
"What? I did not go into…"
"Don't try to deny it. Someone saw you going into my room."
Damn it. Victoria never thought that she will be caught. Their rooms are at the end of the corridor, for god's sake. She thought she can ninja in and out without a soul knowing. Apparently, she sucks at being a ninja. Victoria purses her lips and does not acknowledge Max. She rather dies than to admit that she has been snooping around in the hipster's room.
Max sighs again and reaches out to grab Victoria's hand. Her hand is icy cold. Victoria instinctively flinches when Max makes contact but allows Max to pull her down to the seat beside Max.
"Does it have anything to do with your conversation with Mr. Jefferson?" Max, still holding on to Victoria's hand, looks at her with clear, blue eyes searing onto Victoria's dark, brown ones with a questioning look. Victoria wants to look away, afraid that Max's inquisitive blue eyes will uncover the insecurities that Victoria has tucked away, deep within herself, but for some reason, Victoria is sucked into the vortex of blue that is Max Caulfield, mesmerized, enthralled, spellbound.
"Victoria, I think you are a very talented photographer. In fact, you are one of the most talented students in Blackwell. I don't see why you need to… need to bribe Mr. Jefferson into making you the winner," Max is still holding on to Victoria, her thumb drawing mindless circles reassuringly on the back of Victoria's hand. Victoria must be out of her mind, but she finds this strangely comforting, like a child being pacified by her mother after a fall.
"So why?"
"Why what?"
"Why… did you flirt with Mr. Jefferson?"
With that question, Victoria is broken from the spell that is Max Caulfield. She finally breaks away from Max's gaze and looks down at her perfectly manicured fingers, then at Max's short, bitten nails as Max continue rubbing her thumb on Victoria's hand soothingly.
"I… I just want to… I just need to win this stupid contest, alright?"
"But Vic, you can win this without needing to bribe or threaten or sell your soul to Jefferson!"
Victoria cringes as Max points out that she is willing to sell her soul to win this contest. Victoria knows she is more than willing to do that. She needs this win so badly.
By hook or by crook.
"What do you know, Max? What do you know about losing and rejection? You are the fucking talented photography student from Seattle on a photography scholarship! You are the pet of Jefferson, who worships your damn selfie on a polaroid! What do you know about rejection and failure? What do you know about being a disappointment?!"
Victoria's voice cracks as she pushes those words out; shame, despair, dejection all rolled into one as she releases a long, defeated sigh. She removes her hand from Max's grip and presses the bridge of her nose, willing herself not to shed any tears. She is a Chase, dammit, and a Chase do not shed tears in front of anyone.
But Max – damn fucking Maxine Caulfield, does not seem to want to cut her some slack. Blue eyes staring straight at her, tearing down Victoria's defenses, breaking her mean girl façade, leaving her vulnerable, defenseless, exposed.
Before Victoria knows it, Max's free hand is cupping her face, her thumb wiping away her tears ever so gently, tears that Victoria does not even realize has fallen from her eyes.
Is Max doing this out of pity for her? Victoria cannot quite care less at this moment. All she can feel now is warmth and kindness from Max, warmth that is now spreading from her cheeks down to her neck, all the way to her core, warmth that Victoria knows she does not deserve from this cute hipster that she has bullied since the start of the school term.
"I am not talented like you claimed. Far from it," Max gazes into Victoria's brown eyes once more, with such intensity that makes Victoria's heart skips a beat. "It is unfair to say I am only talent, Victoria. I spent all my waking hours taking photos, and I have been doing so since I was a kid. Polaroid ain't cheap, Vic, so I have to be very precise in what I want to take, and how I want to frame my pictures. It takes a lot of practice and time."
Max pauses, seems to contemplate her words in her mind, before continuing again.
"You may not realize this, but I very much prefer to be in the background as a silent observer. I have been framing people and objects in my mind, understanding the beauty of every one of them before I take my shot. I'm just… I'm not good at expressing myself like you, Victoria. I know I stammer when I speak and I just can't seem to say what I really mean to say. It is just so difficult for me. So I really prefer to let my shots do the talking and the interacting."
Max smiles bitterly, before biting her lower lip nervously, like she has just shared a big secret with Victoria.
Victoria purses her lips thoughtfully, not sure what to make of this information. She has always been surrounded by friends or at least a bunch of sycophant too eager to please her. She can never understand what it is like to stay in the background, or what it is like to be a silent observer. She has always been the Queen, the Star, the Center of the Universe.
At the same time, Victoria knows for a fact that Max is telling the truth. She is always with her camera, taking photos of everything and anything. Max may squeak like a mouse or looks like a deer in the headlights when caught off guard with a question, but her pictures can always speak a thousand words. Once, Victoria even spotted Max secretly taking a photo of her, Victoria Chase, the Queen of Blackwell. She let her, because why wouldn't she? Max is after all the photography scholar, and of course, she would want to take a photo of the ethereal being that is Victoria Chase.
"You wanted to look at my entry, isn't it? Is that why you were in my room?" Max is being frightfully perspective today. Victoria can't help but shifts uncomfortably in the couch. Max takes out a polaroid from that ratty sling bag that she always carries around and passes it to Victoria. "You can always ask if you want to take a look, Vic."
Victoria looks at the photo and scoffs. It is a selfie, a picture of Max looking at her photo wall in her dorm room. Victoria has guessed correctly that Max will submit a photo of herself into the contest. How typical of Max the narcissist.
However, as Victoria squints and looks closer, she realizes that the pictures on Max's photo wall are all photos of people engaging in acts of kindness or beaming happily at one another. A photo wall exuding with positivity and happiness.
A photo wall of Everyday Heroes.
As Victoria glances through the photos in the background, she freezes in her seat and quirks her eyebrows in surprise as a picture catches her eyes.
In the picture is Taylor, sitting on a bench in the campus courtyard, her back facing the camera. She was looking up at the blue sky, shoulders slumped forward, heavy with worry and dread. Besides Taylor sits Victoria, a ray of sunlight shining on the crown of her golden hair illuminating her like she has a halo on her head, but her face cannot be seen. Victoria has her hand firmly on Taylor's back, a hand of assurance, a hand of friendship, a hand of kindness.
"When did you take this?" Victoria covers her mouth in awe. The photo doesn't show her face, but it is the most beautiful picture anyone has taken of her. "I don't remember seeing this picture in your room at a-, oh shit!" Victoria quickly realizes her slip up, effectively proving that she has been sneaking around Max's room.
Max glances sideways at her and smiles that knowing smile, her hand unconsciously reaches out to hold Victoria's hand again.
Max is awfully affectionate today, not like Victoria is complaining. She can feel the blood rushing to her face, flushing her cheeks into a bright shade of red. She immediately looks away, hoping Max has not noticed her blush.
"I have this picture with me in my diary. I don't display it on the photo wall because this picture is very special to me," Max replies with a smile so bright, it is almost blinding. Her freckles seem to lit up like the stars in the sky, and her eyes, so blue, like the depth of the ocean, drowning Victoria in this emotional waves swelling in her chest, crashing into her, causing her to gasp for her breath.
She feels her chest tightening with a sensation she has not experienced before. Her hand where Max is holding is burning, and she is afraid she might just combust into flames there and then, burning into nothingness. Max is still smiling at her with that bright smile with such warmth.
Warmth that Victoria does not deserve.
"Why?"
"Hmm?"
"Why is that picture special?"
"Because you are beautiful in it, Victoria." Max answers without missing a beat, her smile never leaving her face. "Because this is who you really are. You can be a mean bitch, you can be a big bully, but deep down, from what I see, I know you can be a wonderful person and a great friend."
Max reaches into her sling bag again and took out that picture.
"Here, you should have it."
Victoria takes the picture from Max and looks at it. Max thinks she is beautiful, in a picture which does not even show her face. Yet, Victoria can feel the warmth radiating from Max's photo, and Victoria looks beautiful, a side of her that Victoria does not even realize that she has.
Max places her hand on Victoria's shoulder and stands up.
"I gotta get back to my room. But Vic, please trust me when I say you are a very talented photographer." Max twist the edge of her T-shirt with her fingers before continuing. "You know, I really love your pictures. You take your shots with techniques that I am lacking in my pictures, and I…I would really love to learn that from you."
Max gives Victoria a shy smile before scurrying out of Victoria's room, leaving Victoria in a daze. It takes a lot for Victoria to be at a loss for words, but Max Caulfield has left her completely speechless, and absolutely flustered. She looks down at the photo that Max has taken of her, her lips curve up into a smile on her face.
It is the End of the World Party, and the school actually decides to announce the winner of Everyday Heroes Photo Contest at this party. What a joke this is to Victoria. She is the organizer of this fabulous party and she is about to be embarrassed for losing the contest at her own fricking party.
Victoria tries drowning herself with any alcohol she can get her hands on. With Max as her competitor, she knows she has no chance of winning at all. She no longer feels jealousy towards the hipster, but that does not make her feel any better at the prospect of losing this stupid contest and bringing shame to the Chase name once again. She takes another shot of tequila, because who cares if she gets drunk. She is just a disappointment to everyone.
"What are you doing, Victoria?"
Out of nowhere, Max appears in front of her, still wearing her shoddy hoody and a stupid black T-shirt, snatching the drink out of her hand. Victoria cannot believe Max actually wears a hoody to a party. Who the hell does that?
"What the flying fuck are you doing here, Max?!" Victoria slurs as she points her perfectly manicured finger at Max, clearly frustrated at her drink being taken away from her. "This section is VIP only! VIP! You ain't a VIP!"
Max sighs, "I'm on the VIP list, Vic. But seriously, why are you drinking so much? The winner of the contest will be announced soon. You wouldn't want to fall off the stage, do you?"
"Are you fucking kidding me, Lamefield!? Are you here to mock me?" Victoria stumbles forward. Max quickly reaches out to hold her. Their faces are so close now, Victoria can smell Max's perfume. She smells like flowers blooming in spring. Victoria wonders if her lips taste as delicious as she smells.
Max leads Victoria to a couch nearby, sits her down before bringing a glass of water to her. Max is so kind to Victoria. So sweet. So warm.
Warmth that Victoria does not deserve.
"Drink up. Mr. Jefferson will be announcing the winner soon." Max says as she places the glass of water onto Victoria's lips.
Victoria does not protest.
She holds Max's hand and interlaces their fingers.
Max does not protest.
The music now seems so far away. Victoria's problems now seem so far away. The dance crowd now seems so far away. Only Max is in her world now, and she can feel the heat radiating from Max's body. So safe. So warm.
Warmth that Victoria does not deserve.
"Okay, everyone calms down." Jefferson gets on stage. Victoria sighs. She is not ready to be embarrassed in front of so many people. She stands up and tries to leave.
"Where are you going?" Max's fingers are still interlaced with Victoria's. "Mr. Jefferson is going to announce the winner soon!"
"Yeah, I know. Congratulations, Max." Victoria tries to walk away, but Max tightens her grip. For a petite girl, Max is pretty strong.
"As far as I'm concerned, you're all the Everyday Heroes!" Jefferson finishes his long, boring speech about how everyone represents Blackwell Academy and what the school stands for. "And the winner is…"
Victoria uses her free hand to cover her face, trying to hide her embarrassment as much as she can. Max is still holding on to her hand, rubbing her thumb reassuringly over Victoria's hand again. So comforting. So calming. So warm.
"Oh my, what a shocker… Victoria Chase!"
Victoria looks up in utter shock. She looks at Max, who is now smiling so brightly at her, applauding her, encouraging her.
Victoria covers her mouth in disbelief.
"Oh my God!"
Max gives her a light pat on the shoulder and a little push.
Congratulations.
Max mouths to Victoria as she wobbles unsteadily onto the stage. She really shouldn't have drunk so many tequila shots.
Everything is a blur. Victoria does not remember what Jefferson says to her. She does not remember what she says on stage. She only remembers looking down from the stage and watching Max walks away. She hurries through her speech because there is only one person she wants to share this moment with, and she is walking away.
The crowd is cheering. The crowd is jeering.
"You suck, Victoria!"
She hears it and doesn't hear it. She doesn't give a shit anymore. She pushes her way through the crowd. Courtney and Taylor come up to congratulate her and to give her a hug. She returns them half-heartedly, tells them to get out of her way and continues to push her way out of the gym, out of her Vortex Club Party, out of the place where she has just been crowned the "winner".
She runs out across the carpark.
She runs into the courtyard.
She pushes the door of the dormitory.
She runs along the corridor.
She stops in front of Max's room, pants and gasp for air. She no longer knows if she is out of breath because she has just run all the way to Max's room, or she is out of breath because she is about to face Max.
She knocks, the door opens.
Max looks mildly surprised when she sees Victoria standing outside her room.
"Vic! What are you doing here? You should be cele-"
Victoria crashes into Max, embracing her, holding her, returning the warmth that Max has shown her these two days.
"Congratulations, Vic. I'm so proud of you." Max murmurs into Victoria's ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Victoria unwillingly breaks away from their embrace and looks into Max's clear, blue eyes. Drowning into the ocean that is Max Caulfield.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why didn't you submit your photo?"
"How… how did you know that?"
"Because I won. I wouldn't have won if you have submitted your photo."
"That's not true, Vic… Your photo is great."
Max rubs the back of her neck anxiously and looks away.
"You took pity on me, is that it!? You let me win on purpose?"
Max snaps her head back to look at Victoria, who is now looking flustered.
"It's not that…"
"Then why?"
"I… I can't."
"What do you mean 'you can't'?"
"I just…" Max sighs and looks away, "I don't think my shot is good enough to be put out there."
Victoria raises her eyebrows in disbelief. Max has an award winning shot and she is afraid of putting her work out there?
"Look at me," Victoria cups Max's face and guides Max to look at her. "Max, your work is amazing… Why do you think it's not good enough?"
"Because…"
Tears begin to well up in Max's eyes.
"Because it's a stupid selfie. It's such a stupid shot and I can't. I can't submit that…"
Tears fall from Max's eyes. Victoria heart clenches.
Without thinking, she closes the distance, boldly presses her lips onto Max's cheeks and kisses her tears away. Max widen her eyes in shock and blushes.
Victoria places her forehead on Max's and looks into her eyes.
"Max… you are the most talented photographer I ever know. You are so much more…"
Victoria takes a deep breath.
"So much more talented than me."
It takes a lot for Victoria to acknowledge that someone is better than her.
Inadequate. You are so inadequate.
She soldiers on.
"You need to have the courage to put your work out there."
Max lowers her head and looks away once more.
"Hey."
Victoria cups Max's face again, uses her thumb to wipe away Max's tears tenderly, tears that just keep falling.
"I will help you put your work out there. Let me help you, Max."
Max looks at Victoria again, her face flushes in a bright shade of red. A beautiful contrast with her clear, blue eyes. Soft, tender, affectionate.
Warmth.
In this moment, Victoria understands why she is so overwhelmed with emotions.
It is not because she won the Everyday Heroes Contest. It is not because she can finally show her father that she lives up to the Chase name. It is not because her work can finally be displayed at a gallery in San Francisco and she can finally take her first step into the photography world.
It is in this moment, Victoria realizes that the petite girl in her arms, her archrival who is in Blackwell on a photography scholarship, the pet of The Mark Jefferson, is just as insecure as she is.
And Victoria wants to help her.
"We can do this together, Max. You and me."
This time, it is Max who hugs Victoria back.
"Thank you, Vic," Max whispers softly.
Victoria feels the warmth in her chest spreading to her whole body.
Warmth from Max.
Warmth that Victoria finally thinks she deserves.
Warmth which Victoria is eager to give back to Max.
Because maybe, just maybe, Victoria can also be an everyday hero to someone, and that someone is Max Caulfield.