A/N: This fic supports Jefferfield and as stated in the description it is set in an alternate universe. Rachel is alive and kicking and Mark does not drug and kidnap young girls.

There may be some triggering subjects throughout this fic i.e. depression and anxiety. I suffer from both these myself and I feel it is important to be as open as possible about them so that the stigma can be removed.

If you find yourself affected by any of these issues, please visit this link: life is strange talk/

I don't own any of these characters, they belong to Square Enix and Dontnod.

Friday 18th October 2013

Max really couldn't believe her luck – when she'd entered her photo for the Everyday Heroes content, she never thought she'd win.

After all, there was some strong competition. Victoria Chase's entry for one.
Victoria had a great eye, the image was sharp, it really captured your attention. Her subject was an exhausted doctor having finished a long shift and the effect was powerful.
Kate's Marsh's entry showed what Max thought a real hero was – a fireman after saving a family from their burning house. That was an emotional piece.
Even Nathan Prescott's entry impressed Max. His style most definitely needed to be honed, but his use of black and white gave everything a noir feel and the subject matter was haunting.

But Mr Jefferson had chosen hers. He said it had 'soul'. Max did have to admit that she felt it captured her inner self (or should that be inner selfie?).

So here she was, bag packed and waiting on the steps outside of Blackwell for the cab to take Mr Jefferson and her to the airport.

'Are you excited, Max?' asked Mr Jefferson, putting his phone into his jacket pocket and turning to her.
'Mostly excited, a little nervous,' replied Max, fiddling with her bag, 'I've only been on a plane once before and I was nervous then too.'
'It's all right, the flight's only an hour and a half, it'll probably take us longer to get our luggage back!' said Mr Jefferson, trying to reassure her.

Max nodded and thought that Mr Jefferson was probably used to travelling, back in the nineties when his career was at its peak. She imagined a glamorous lifestyle and wondered, not for the first time, why he had decided to come back to Arcadia Bay.

Was it simply that his career had waned and the opportunities dried up? Perhaps he wanted to share his expertise? He genuinely seemed to enjoy sharing his wealth of knowledge with his students. Even though she was a fan of his work, she didn't know much about his actual career – understandable, seeing as she was only a child at the height of his popularity.

Maybe she would ask him when they had a moment in San Francisco? Max was far too shy to bring up something like that. What if he didn't want to talk about it? What if something tragic had caused him to give up his career? What if – she mentally checked herself. Stop catastrophing, Max.

Her anxiety had a habit of getting out of control if she didn't reign herself in, and that did not feel good. The last thing she wanted to do was have another panic attack, let alone in front of anyone.

The cab arrived just then, blissfully removing Max from awkwardness of standing there with her teacher, and not having a single thing to say. The driver packed their luggage in the trunk while they got in the car. Mr Jefferson looked over at Max.

'Ready?' he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Exiting the cab at the hotel they'd be staying at, they were engulfed by a sudden rainfall.

'Max, you go inside, I'll bring everything in, OK?' Mr Jefferson gave Max a little push towards the building. She didn't need convincing, she rushed towards the hotel and stood under the awnings and waited.

'Thanks Mr Jefferson,' Max said as he approached with their luggage, 'I hope you didn't get too wet.'

'Nothing a hot shower won't fix,' he replied, smiling as he passed her suitcase to her.

Max had a brief thought of Mr Jefferson in the shower and flushed. Why did I think that?

Just then her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. A quick check revealed it was a text from Chloe. I'll read it in a moment, when I'm in my room. She's probably telling me how her latest date with Rachel went.

A couple of months ago, Chloe had finally plucked up the courage to turn her long term crush on Rachel Amber into something more tangible. Gleefully, for Max as well as Chloe, Rachel had accepted the blunette's date invitation and it seemed that things were going well for the pair. It gave Chloe something else to focus on aside antagonising her step father and her part time job at the Two Whales, where she worked with her mother.

They made their way into the hotel and checked in. Mr Jefferson handed Max her room key. She inspected in, turning it over and reading the room number, 504. I wonder what number room he's staying in. Again, she blushed at such a thought then admonished herself. Obviously it will be one next to mine. And why do I care anyway?

The following evening they were to attend a pre exhibition dinner with the other contestants. So this evening, Max was free to do whatever she wanted.

'I think I'm going to have that shower now,' Mr Jefferson said to Max as they rode the elevator to their floor, 'Do you have any plans?'

'Oh no, I thought I might just relax in my room. I'm still coming down from that plane ride,' Max replied, rubbing the back of her neck. 'I'm re-reading Battle Royale and I'm at an exciting moment so I'll probably read and go to sleep.'

'Sounds like a good time to me,' said Mr Jefferson, smiling softly at her. They had reached their floor. 'You have a good night's rest, all right? Tomorrow's an exiting day for you'. He placed his hand on her upper arm and gave it a little squeeze, then he went to his room.

Max was left standing there outside her door, blushing. Did she read too much into that gesture? She thought that he held on just a little bit too long. Nah...I'm reading into this way too much! He's my professor!

With that, Max opened her room door and placed her suit case by a chair. Eager for some gossip, she pulled out her phone and flopped down on her comfy hotel bed. Wow, now this is luxury, she thought, as she snuggled into the pillows.

Chloe: Mad Max! What's up, how was your flight?

Max: Oh you know, the usual, felt like my stomach was going to eject itself from my body _

Chloe: Ugh, u r so dramatic

Max: You love it. So...

Max: How did it go?

Chloe: I...am in love

Max: ^_^ Please spill, what was it like? Did violins serenade you, were their birds singing for you

Chloe: Shut up!

Chloe: It was great. We went for coffee at that cafe on campus. Talked about her classes, managed to get her to show me some of her sketches

Max: Very smooth, I like it, getting her talking about herself

Chloe: Her sketches are great actually. She's got a beautiful style. I swear, I'm hella swooning here. She wants to sketch ME!

Chloe: Then we walked around campus. It was totally beautiful, leaves falling from the trees, the sunset shimmering through the branches

Max: Seriously Chloe, that sounds amazing

Chloe: It was, she's amazing. And...

Chloe: We totally kissed!

Max: Woo, go Chloe! I'm so happy for you ^_^

Chloe: Thanks Maximilian, I would do one of those faces, but you know...no emoji!

Max: Haha, I wouldn't expect you to change now

Chloe: I just wanted to update you quickly, I'll call tomorrow

Chloe: What are you up to now?

Max: Nothing, just chilling in my room, probs just going to order a sandwich and put my sweats on

Chloe: So no nocturnal meeting with your Mister, huh?

Max: Who? Jefferson?

Max: Don't, you're making me blush

Chloe: Bless, little innocent Maxie

Max: Nothing going on there, I assure you

Chloe: Yeah yeah

Chloe: I'll talk to you later hippie

Max: Love you too

Why had Chloe mentioned Mr Jefferson? Did she think there was a possibility...no, surely not? Just Chloe being Chloe.

Still, Max was stoked to hear that her date went well, Chloe so deserved some happiness in her life. Rachel seemed to give her a bit of hope. Recently she'd been getting on better with her step father, David. Perhaps working with Joyce made her realise how much of a good man he was. And he was a good man. Misguided sometimes, certainly, but he meant well.
He sometimes was a bit overzealous with security, but that came with the territory of being the Head of Security at Blackwell Academy. He cared about the students safety, it just manifested itself in the wrong way at times.

Max went to her suitcase and half heartedly began to unpack. They were here for the weekend, catching a flight back to Oregon Monday morning. She wanted to hang up the dress she'd brought for tomorrow's party to ensure it wouldn't wrinkle.

The exhibition and dinner were important to her – she'd be mixing with other artists for the first time and she wanted to appear mature and sophisticated, which is not what she felt like at all.

Stop it Max, stop being such a downer on yourself. You won the competition, you deserve this.

The problem with having an anxiety disorder was that it never really went away. Max knew all the methods to calm herself down before a panic attack erupted, but they did still happen. She also suffered from depression, which caused her to doubt herself anytime she was doing well.

This competition had really brought her spirits up, and she was determined to make the right impression and take a chance. What was it Mr Jefferson said?

Always take the shot.