The first few nights were rough for me. There was that lingering sense of regret that I was half-ass expecting from the aftermath of the storm, but with either choice I chose, I would expect devastation. Playing God for a week was probably the scariest gift I've ever been given, but I'm no savior regardless of what I decided to do. Even if I did save Chloe, my recurring nightmares continued to remind me of the loss I left behind in Arcadia Bay.

When I felt Chloe stir from the hotel room bed, I lost all tension in my back remembering who I was with. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I turned towards her to see if she was just turning over in her sleep. Her hands reached out, patting the part of the bed where I should be laying. In the moonlight, I could see her sleepy eyelids slowly unfold, revealing tired sky blue eyes.

"Max, are you awake still? It's three am." Chloe mumbled sleepily, gently pulling me by my arm down into the hotel room bed. "Come on into bed. You need sleep."

"Maybe you're right."

There are some aspects of our relationship that definitely have changed since the storm passed. Now, I haven't confirmed with Chloe exactly what we are, but I feel like we're coming closer to figuring that out with each passing day. Kind of like how I had this inkling that Rachel was guiding us to the truth behind why Kate almost jumped. That's the last thing that I think of before being lulled to sleep by the sounds of Chloe's soft breathing.

What wakes me up tonight is the extremely cold feeling of concrete pressed against my cheek. The first thought that registers is wondering if I fell out of the hotel room bed. Then I realize that this is concrete, not the soft carpeted floor. Fear quickly sets in as I sit up quickly, examining my surroundings to get an idea of what nightmare I was going to experience tonight.

The room – or should I say place – I was confined in was pitch black, aside from the looming lights of the lighthouse in the far distance. The floor below me seemed to be sturdy enough, so I got up from the floor and started walking forward with unsure steps. It must have been ten seconds in when a girl's voice pierced the silence of the darkness.

"BOO-YAH!"

"What the fuck?" I whipped around so fast that I stumbled forward, falling into the arms of the person who scared the living daylights out of me. My eyes catch the hands of my savior first: Long slender fingers with a turquoise ring on the ring finger. My stomach churns as Rachel Amber stands in front of me, in the flesh, with a sweet smile on her face.

"Sorry, Max. I'm sure you're on edge right now. That was immature of me."

"H-How do you know my name?"

Rachel looked almost too enthusiastic to be meeting me, from noticing the gargantuan Cheshire cat grin that was making its way onto her face. All of my muscles seemed to tense up at the exact same moment, my stomach swimming with trepidation. Oh no, this is a personal nightmare.

"We're connected by Chloe. Look, I'll explain all the crazy shit later."

"Um, by any chance, do you know where we're at?"

As I was finishing my statement, the closest lights flickered on with the ones behind turning on shortly after. The clicks of the lights turning on resonated within the blackness loudly as if the void-like place wasn't large and expansive enough, reminding me of what the Bigfoots Stadium lights do every Friday. There was the museum of the week me and Chloe shared on the right mirroring another museum on the left where I could see the figures of Chloe and Rachel. My throat suddenly felt dry when it dawned on me where I was at. Before I woke up from that nightmare, Chloe brought me here. "Are you interested, Max? This is my world with Chloe."

The scene in Aladdin immediately came to mind, where Aladdin held his hand out to Jasmine while he stood on the magic carpet and she reluctantly grabbed it. In this scenario, you can guess who was which character. I took a hold on Rachel's hand a little too tightly, immediately alerting Rachel of my slight anxiety.

"By the way, you seem tense, Max. Are you worried about seeing something?"

Yes. I'm terrified of the power you have in my dreamscape.

"In this world, your innermost thoughts might as well be what you say out loud." Rachel casually mentioned, chuckling at my recent thought, most likely. Shit.

"I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Rachel grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "Look, if something makes you uncomfortable, I'll make sure to avoid the memory entirely."

One moment, we were standing at the split of the wishbone path; The next, we were at the first memory of Chloe and Rachel's becoming. The place was vaguely familiar as Mr. Jeffershit's – whoops, I mean Mr. Jefferson's – old classroom. Chloe was seated beside Rachel in class looking slightly bored and staring over at what Rachel was drawing. My heart went into heavy palpitations when I realized Chloe had that artwork as a tattoo sleeve.

"Later in our friendship, I get a star Chloe drew for me, even though she can barely draw stick figures, tattooed on my wrist. You might recognize this artwork."

"Yeah, I do…" My voice trails off expectantly as the voices of Rachel and Chloe come to life.

Chloe: "Damn, that's some badass artwork. I can barely draw stick figures."
Rachel: "Yeah. Anyone who's in this class can barely draw a circle."
Chloe: "Glad to know I'm sitting by the class smartass."
Rachel: "That's what I'm here for."
Chloe: "Seriously, your art portfolio is fucking impressive."
Rachel: "That means a lot to me. Thank you. Speaking of, I never see you talk to anyone."
Chloe: "Nobody ever comes up to me unless they need something. I'm starting to wonder if I'm carrying the avian flu or some stupid shit like that."
Rachel: "You're not scary to me. In fact, that's what makes you interesting to me."

It's casual conversation, but I can hear Rachel's excitement in her voice to finally be acquainted with Chloe. "Before that conversation, I wanted to get to know Chloe. It was an admiration thing since she had this don't-give-a-shit personality where she does what she wants. That's what made her unapproachable to others, but that made me curious to learn about her since I wanted to know her secrets."

That makes me think of magnets, and how it proves that opposites attract. Rachel is popular, while Chloe is in the midst of a downward spiral into a hole of isolation. Maybe Rachel was the one who pulled her out of that hole, thus why Chloe thought of Rachel as an "angel."

"When we were kids, Chloe was always the badass out of the both of us. I was the shy loser who went along with whatever crazy thing Chloe convinced me to do, like our secret wine tasting sessions we used to do."

"You were special to Chloe. I could tell in the way she would talk about you."

"Really?" No kidding. What Joyce said Wednesday to me about Chloe telling Joyce she wishes she could be more like me may have been the truth. "Wowser."

The next memory featured Rachel and Chloe skateboarding in the parking lot of the school. In a black t-shirt and denim ripped jeans, Rachel looked more punk rock than Chloe was. Rachel was in midair on the board with her mouth open in an open grin while Chloe pointed a purple camera in Rachel's direction.

Rachel: "Art isn't the only thing I want to be good at."
Chloe: "I'm not ready to hear about your sexual fantasies."
Rachel: "Shut up. I want to be a model. Maybe I don't have the height, but I have the ambition."
Chloe: "Big dreams for a small town girl, but you could totally hit it off. You're gorgeous."
Rachel: "I've had this dream ever since I was a child. Don't make fun of me."
Chloe: "Did you not hear me just compliment you? You could totally do it."
Rachel: "Hey, take a picture of me, will you? For my modeling scrapbook?"
Chloe: "Oh yeah. Yeah. Of course."

A sound of a camera shutter finished off the conversation, as if it was to tie up the loose ends. Even with the nervous feeling swimming around in my stomach, I was anxious to see where this leads. This definitely didn't seem like a nightmare, so was it a dream? Can I even trust Rachel Amber in this dreamscape?