Disclaimer- I do not own Life is Strange

A/N- This is a vixine fanfic rated mature for language, bullying, and possible later sexy times ;) will start off slightly canon but eventually be completely AU, Max and Victoria will be slightly AU as well.

Chapter 1- The Beginning

I'm sitting in my dorm room after a horribly long day listening to Syd Matters, and I feel like an absolutely shit person because of Max. Every time that I have talked to her I have been a complete bitch, and today when she had the perfect opportunity to get payback she was nice to me. Why? Why would she just be nice? I guess she's just a better person than me, but then again who isn't?

*knock* *knock* *knock*

This better be fucking important. I open the door to see my two fake bff's. Great, just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse.

"Taylor, Courtney what are you doing here it's 11:30 and lights out is at 12."

"Since when do you care, and what kind of mopey shit are you listening to? Don't tell me that you and Max are buddies now that she was nice to you when she could have totally took a picture of you covered in paint and blackmailed you with it."

Leave it to Taylor to call me out, I actually like Max's taste in music God forbid. I decide that lying is the lesser of two evils.

"My phone's on Pandora and I'm about to go to bed so I don't really care what's playing. Which brings me back to my first question, what are you guy's doing here?"

"We decided that we couldn't let Max get a big head and actually think that you're friends. So we came to tell you that we left her a little something to remind her just how alone she is."

I really want to punch Taylor in her smug little face. Before I can take a second to contemplate why my traitorous brain is telling me to do so, I unconsciously yell at them.

"What the fuck did you do!?"

"Woah chill out Vicky you'll find out soon enough, now we better get back to our dorms before we break curfew."

The sarcasm in Taylor's voice wasn't lost on me and it just made me angrier. I don't know why I care but I do, maybe I need my head checked. It makes no sense that I have bullied her the worst of anyone, and would be mad about someone else doing the same. That's just irrational right?

Suddenly I find myself facing the door reaching to open it. What the fuck? My brain must be trying to tell me something. I sigh and resign myself to the fact that I want to make sure my cronies didn't do anything to hurt Max.

Telling myself that no one will know I stick my head into the hall to look around and make sure that no one else is around. When I see that the coast is clear I quietly make my way inside Max's room. It's dark but when I turn on the light I see what Taylor and Courtney did. On Max's photo wall painted over the pictures in bright red paint is "No one likes you bitch", and on her bed is a disturbing picture of her head with her eyes scratched out.

At this point I'm furious at Taylor and Courtney. When my head clears I see that at least 1/4 of the pictures on her wall are ruined and it makes me sad because looking at them now her photographs aren't half bad. I look around thinking about what I'm going to do when Max's phone beeps and I catch a glimpse of the clock on her lock screen that flashes 12:03 a.m.

Shit, wait where is Max, and why did she leave her phone? Feeling like a total stalker but telling myself I'm just making sure she's ok I open her text messages and see that she is staying at the blue haired girl Chloe's house. I immediately feel jealous then as soon as I feel the jealousy I deny it. I could care less what loserfield does I tell myself, but I know that it's a lie.

I'm wasting time and starting to get sleepy so I push my feelings aside and take down all of the pictures with paint on them. As an afterthought I move the rest to fill in the gaps as best I can. I grab the ruined photos and the disturbing Photoshopped one. When I turn to leave I see a box of cookies that look very tempting. Fuck it, I realize that I've been a little too kind so I grab the box, turn off her light, and sneak back to my room.

I crumple the disturbing picture into a ball and throw it away, and then I spend the next little while looking at the damaged polaroids. I can still see most of the pictures through the paint since it was a thin layer and I reluctantly admit to myself that they are pretty good even if a nice amount of them are selfies.

Just as I get done placing the stolen cookies on my shelf and am putting the paint covered photos into a drawer I see that I forgot one on the floor. I pick it up and am shocked by the content. It's a picture of me sitting on the side of the fountain actually smiling writing "Make me famous" on the bricks beside me. I remember doing this about three weeks ago, but why would she take a picture of me, and why would it be on her wall? I turn it over and read in neat swirling handwriting "She's not a cyborg damn". The geek in me elicts a smile even though I know it shouldn't.

Without thinking of the repercussions I send Max a quick text that reads "Thanks for not making fun of me when you had the chance". I know that she wont get it untill she returns for class in the morning, but it helps me feel just the slightest bit better about all of the times that I have been mean to her. As I feel heaviness beginnining to pull at my limbs and my thoughts start to slow down I decide that I should go to sleep before my traitor of a brain makes anymore questionable decisions.

I tiredly move to sit the polaroid (along with my phone) on the pink night stand next to my bed. Without a second thought I wrap myself up in my bed duvet still smiling as I fall asleep to Max's mopey ass music still playing quietly from my phone's speakers.

I was just starting to feel rested when the super obnoxious, super loud alarm on my phone decides to wake me up. Still half asleep I reach over to my night stand for my phone, but what I feel is a picture. I smile in remembrance then immediately stop and dismiss last night as a lapse in judgement. I find my phone and blearily open my eyes to turn the alarm off.

"Ouch, what the fuck?"

Damn I fell asleep with my contacts in. I hurriedly silence my phone and open up the camera app so I can take my contacts out. Shit I'm so screwed I think as I trip getting out of bed. I slowly walk to my dresser and rummage around until my hand closes around my black rectangle framed glasses.

I rush to put them on so I'm not blind. My brain scrambles until I finally decide that I will wear them until I'm done with my shower and dressed then change back to contacts. I know my eyes will burn like hell and everyone will assume that I'm super stoned but I absolutely refuse to wear glasses to school and I have to be able to see. (I can't stumble around the school and still keep my reputation as untouchable head bitch).

I grab my toiletries and a towel before I once again stick my head out into the hall to check for other people. I must be lucky because no one is around, and not wanting to be seen I rush into the dorm's bathrooms.

I must have jinxed myself beause the one and only Max Caulfield is staring at my glasses with this adorable little smirk on her face. Damn it brain since when do you think loser hipsters are adorable? Loser hipsters are annoying, now I'm seriously considering getting my head scanned since my synapses must be misfiring or some bullshit. "Tell anyone and your dead, Caulfield. Don't think for a second that we're friends."

"Your text from last night might indicate otherwise, but don't worry I won't tell anyone that you wear glasses, even if they are cute."

I start to blush immediately. She thinks I'm cute? I'm blushing and Victoria Chase doesn't blush. I had completely forgotten about the text as well, and since when was Max so cheeky? Two points for team Max. Unable to think of a more witty response I reply with a simple "Whatever" and head for an empty shower.

Refusing to think about my reaction to what just happened I close the shower curtain, throw my clothes over it, sit my glasses on the wall dividing the stalls, and take the quickest shower I've had in my entire life. Just as I get redressed and am putting my glasses back on I see Courtney writing the link to Kate's video on one of the bathroom mirrors.

I seriously need to rethink who I hang out with. I wait until she's gone to leave the shower stall and wipe the link off of the offending mirror. I don't know what happened that night but she definitely wasn't herself so she doesn't deserve her actions to be broadcasted school-wide. I must be going soft.

A change of clothes, breakfast, and a couple of classes later...

I'm the first person to arrive at my last class of the day. Photography taught by Mr. Jefferson. At this point I am tired of people exclaiming how high I must be. I sit down and watch as people slowly begin to filter into class. No more than three minutes before the bell rings Max walks in.

I try not to stare but I can't help it, she turns and catches me staring but I refuse to back down. I can feel that something is changing between us, but I can't quite put my finger on what. After a few tense seconds that feel like hours Max's gaze starts to make me uncomfortable.

She looks at me like I'm worth something. I can see the emotion in her eyes, and I feel as if she's torn down all of my walls and can see straight through me. Like she knows anything and everything about me and can see me for who I really am without all the bullshit.

The class bell rudely jerks me back to reality and I finally bring myself to tear my eyes away. I put on a mask of cool indifference and recede into my torn and confused thoughts for the rest of class. When class is over I practically run out the door. I make it halfway down the hall when I faintly hear Max call after me but I don't stop. I make my way to the art room to paint.

My mother taught me when I was a young girl a couple months before she died. I always paint when I feel strongly about something, and the art teacher Mrs. Jones lets me use the room and supplies whenever I want. I set up the easel and a medium sized canvas. I roll up my sleves and put on an apron. I quickly fill my palette and begin covering the canvas with bold colors.

My brain is going into overdrive and I feel as if it's going to short circuit even though I know that's not possible. I feel like I have to get everything out and I'm translating my feelings into an image on a canvas. I'm Painting madly and I probably look ridiculous with paint on my hands and face. I hear something fall behind me and drop the paintbrush I'm holding like it's on fire. I turn around to see Max yet again.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see that your an extremely talented painter."

I sheepishly rub the back of my neck "Um thanks I guess."

"Come with me."

I look at Max's outstretched hand debating on whether or not to take it, and I realize that I really want to.

"Can you wait a minute so I can clean up?"

"Oh um sure."

Max is blushing prettily and I smile to myself while I clean up. When I'm done I move the still wet unfinished painting to the back room to dry. When I return she holds out her hand again and I gently grab it. She takes me to her car and I get in. I don't know where she's taking me, but for some reason I trust her. I'm disappointed at the loss of warmth when Max let's go of my hand so she can move to get in, but am pleasantly surprised when she rests her right hand palm up over the center console. I hesitate for a second before I retake her hand and Max notices.

"This doesn't mean anything you don't want it to."

Somehow that was exactly what I needed to hear and I sit content the rest of the drive. She tells me that we've arrived and I look up to see the lighthouse. We get out of the car and she leads me to a bench overlooking a cliff that drops into the ocean. A couple of minutes pass in comfortable silence when she starts a conversation.

"You looked the happiest I've ever seen you today when you were painting."

"It's my favorite thing in the world to do."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you in the photography program instead of art if you enjoy art more? You're a really good painter too."

Max's praise embarasses me and I can feel myself beginning to blush. I know I shouldn't tell her why no one knows I paint, but I trust her. It might be stupid to trust her but I need to tell someone.

"My mom died when I was eleven years old and she was a famous painter. She only taught me to paint a few months before she died so nobody ever found out that I knew how to paint. I thought of telling my dad, but I could see how much paintings reminded him of her and our painting styles are so similar... I just didn't want to cause him any more grief."

"That's a really amazing thing you did for your dad, but I think he'll love you no matter what you do."

I want to believe Max I really do, I think I'll pay my old man a visit this weekend.

"Thanks Max, just thanks. I don't know why your being so nice to me when I've been such a bitch to you."

"I've always seen that you weren't as mean as the people you hang out with, and it turns out that your not actually a cyborg. I also rather enjoy seeing you covered in paint since that's become a thing."

She's laughing her ass off so I playfully punch her arm.

"Was that meant to be a compliment or not?"

"The world may never know."

"We might just be friends yet."

"Might?"

The incredulous look on Max's face is completely worth it. "Yes might."

A/N- Hope you like it! Creative criticism is always welcome, and please review :)