A/N: If you're wondering where my other fic went, I got rid of it because I did what I always do, and I wrote myself into a corner. And then I get terrible writer's block and then I lose all my motivation and then I get sad. So I had this sudden burst of creativity at 3:30am on a Saturday morning. Please forgive whatever mistakes I have made I'm sleepy af :) This begins in episode one. (more notes and further explanation at end.)
Her hand hovered over the door.
Max's arm was outstretched, poised and ready to knock. Don't be so chickenshit, Max. she thought to herself, just fucking do it. Max's silent self-encouragement did little in the way of moving her hand forward; it stayed a firm 4 inches away from the white wood of the door to her best friend's house. Ex-best friend, she reminded herself. There was no guarantee that Chloe would even want to look at her, let alone forgive her sorry ass. But damn, did she miss her. Now that Max was back in Arcadia Bay, she saw Chloe everywhere. In Seattle, it was different. She didn't walk past the trees in Seattle and remember the times she climbed them. But here, surrounded by reminders of her childhood- and, more importantly- reminders of the girl she loved and left behind, it seemed like the universe just would not let her forget the hurricane that was Chloe Price.
It was with this realisation that a sudden bravery gripped her. Why go against fate? Steeling herself, she knocked three times.
knock knock knock.
She waited for a moment, her courage gone, chased out by the butterflies that had taken hold of her stomach. She felt the familiar quickening of her heart and the rapidness of her breathing, and tried her best to calm herself before she had a full-blown anxiety attack on Chloe's doorstep. Not a good impression Max. Breathe. she reminded herself, internally cursing her anxiety and trying her hardest to push away the irrational fear she felt. A few moments had passed since she knocked, and she was beginning to regret her decision to come in the first place. She raised her hand again,about to knock a second time, when the door swung open.
It took a moment for Max to process what she was seeing, or rather who she was seeing. Sure, Joyce said that Chloe was a little different now, but Max was expecting longer hair- a new dress sense maybe. Not this. Chloe stood taller than Max, her height only increased more by the slight step she was on. Her legs were much longer than Max had remembered, and Chloe's favourite pair of blue jeans were gone, replaced with ripped, black jeans. Max had to forcibly drag her eyes away from Chloe's clothing to look her in the eyes; trying to desperately to hide her shock. Chloe's long hair was gone, and the ashy blonde she had been was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she had chin-length, bright blue hair that hung in messy waves, shoved haphazardly in a beanie. The only thing that hadn't changed was her face. Her features were a little more prominent, maybe, Her chin a little more pointed, her lips a little fuller, but her eyes were the same ocean blue- and with the same depth that had fascinated Max as a child. If it was possible, Chloe had gotten even more beautiful since Max had last seen her.
"Max?" Chloe said, looking at her as if she might disappear.
"Hey, Chloe." Max replied. She scuffed the ground with her foot, her gaze dropping to her shoes.
"Well, come on in, don't be shy." Chloe stepped to the side slightly, gesturing to the house behind her. Max nodded, stepping over the threshold.
"The house still looks... nice." She said politely.
"Home, shit, home." Chloe responded.
It felt weird to be back. Nothing had changed- the walls were still the same creamy yellow, albeit with a few more scratches, and Max could still see the marks she had left in the skirting board from the time she rode down the stairs on a tray. The only evidence that time had passed at all was Chloe herself. She had moved from the hallway into the kitchen, and was now leaning casually on the table, staring at Max. Her expression was unreadable, and Max found this slightly unnerving. The old Chloe, her chloe was an open book.
"Mom told me you were at Blackwell." Chloe finally spoke up. Max looked up from the ground and nodded her head.
"Yeah, actually. I am." She said, before continuing, "I um-" She broke eye contact, cutting off her sentence. It hung in the air, awkward and unfinished.
"After five years you're still Max Caulfield." Chloe said, standing up and walking to the counter to pick up her mug. It was balanced precariously on a stack of books, letters, and various pieces of paper. Chloe had always been a risk-taker, even in every day life- she managed to make everything have some element of danger. This is the Chloe I remember. Max thought, Still there, different clothes. "Don't give me that face. At least pretend you're glad to see me." She said, taking a sip of her coffee. Her face was hidden by the mug, but Max could see she was smiling by the way her eyes crinkled slightly over the rim of the cup. Max smiled back, relieved that Chloe didn't appear to hate her half as much as she thought she would.
"I am seriously glad to see you." Max repeated, looking back down at her feet. "Feels so weird to be back." She added.
"So I guess Seattle sucked hard?" Chloe asked.
"I guess. It was cool but... I felt kinda lonely, out of my league." Max replied. She walked into the kitchen and sat down on the edge of the table, so she was across from Chloe.
"I would think you'd fit right in with the art school hipsters." Chloe said. Was that bitterness? Or just Chloe being Chloe?
"Right. You look like the cover of hipster girl dot com." This made Chloe smile slightly.
"At least you're still a smartass." She retorted.
'That's why I'm here." Max fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist, twisting the small doe charm between her fingers.
"Please, girl. You came back for Blackwell academy." Chloe said, pushing her sleeve back up her arm as it slid down her wrist.
"Of course. It's one of the best photography programs in the country... and my favourite teacher Mark Jefferson." Max finished, stopping as she saw her best friend's expression turn sour.
"So you came back to Arcadia for a teacher, not your best friend." She said, frowning slightly.
"Don't you think I'm happy to see you?" Max said, trying to diffuse the tension slightly, but only elevating it.
"No. You were happy to wait five years without a call, or even a text."
"I'm sorry. I know things were tough on you when I left." Max knew there wasn't really anything she could say to make it okay, but she tried anyway.
"How do you know? You weren't even here." Chloe said, her anger rising. After five years of bottling it up, Max had expected no different. Still, she couldn't stop herself from retaliating.
"I didn't order my parents to move specifically to fuck you over, Chloe." Chloe scowled, but she lowered her voice slightly.
"You've been at Blackwell for almost a month without letting me know. 'Nuff said." she said with a finality. She turned her head away, looking at her hands gripping the edge of the countertop she was leaning on. Max followed her gaze.
"I just wanted to settle in first and not be such a shy, cliché geek." Max said in a sort of apology.
"I bet you don't use these sad excuses on Mr Jefferson. Don't use them on me, Max." Chloe said bitterly. Max dropped her gaze, turning her head away from Chloe. She knew Chloe was right, it didn't take a genius to see that. She just wished Chloe would forgive her. It's not like she could go back in time to fix all of this- and Max had no idea how to make things okay between them. Max stood up and left the room, looking for her bag. She was sure there was something in it that she had meant to show Chloe.
"Are you leaving?" Chloe asked, trying to mask her disappointment. She didn't do a good job, and it gave Max a little hope that maybe Chloe did want her around.
"No. I'm just getting something from my- Ow! Shit." Max dropped her bag onto her foot, sending papers and polaroids skittering across the wood. Chloe suppressed a smirk.
"There's the Max I remember." She said, walking into the hallway to help Max pick up her belongings. She heard a pained sigh from her left.
"Broken. Oh man, are you cereal?" Max said, cradling her camera in both hands.
"Wow, haven't heard that one in a while..." Chloe said, trailing off as she noticed the look Max was giving her.
"Not everything changes. Except my camera has officially taken a shit." Chloe shook her head slightly at her wording.
"My step-douche has a boatload of tools," she offered, "maybe you can try to fix it." Max looked up from her camera, slightly more hopeful than she had been ten seconds ago.
"I need very specific tiny tools." She said.
"Nerd alert! My stepdad has a fully stocked garage. And he actually is a tiny tool." Max hid her smirk beneath a disapproving head shake, but Chloe really did make her laugh sometimes. "Welcome home, Max." She said sincerely. Max didn't reply. Chloe knew that she appreciated it.
Max put her head in her hands and groaned. Chloe stood up at the sound, crossing to her desk where Max was sitting, and threw her ashtray onto the wood. It thudded beside Max as it hit the surface, the cigarette still smoking inside.
"So?" She asked, looking at Max's broken camera.
"I can't fix this thing." She grumbled, throwing the miniature screwdriver down in frustration. It landed next to Chloe's ashtray; the metal hitting the china with a high pitched clink. Chloe walked around Max, peering over her shoulder as she did so.
"Are these your new photos?" She asked curiously.
"Yeah. I just took them today." Max mumbled into her hands.
"Let me see..." Chloe said, picking up the pile and sifting through each one until she saw a photograph that liked. She would pause and admire it for a second before moving on to the next picture. Eventually, she made it back to the beginning. "These are cute, Max. You have talent."
Max's heart swelled as she heard this. "Thanks, Chloe." Chloe gently placed the photos back into their pile before walking over to her bookcase. Max stood up, peering over Chloe's shoulder to try and get a better view of what she was doing, but Chloe's body blocked it from view. She turned around after a moment, holding out a camera in her hands.
"I, uh, know it was your birthday last month." Max's heart fluttered slightly, because even though it had been five years, she still remembered her birthday. "This was my real father's camera. I want you to have it." She held it out to Max.
"That's so cool you remembered my birthday. But I can't take this." She said. Max felt something tugging in her heart. She wasn't used to this kindness from Chloe, and it made her feel things that she thought she had gotten over years ago. She pushed this thought to the back of her mind.
"Of course you can," She said firmly, pushing it into Max's hands, "my dad would be pissed if I never used it." Max takes the camera, her hand brushing against Chloe's. She freezes slightly at the contact, and when she pulls her hand away she can feel where Chloe touched her burning slightly, probably because it's all she can focus on. In a second, the feeling dissipates, and Max is left hoping Chloe didn't notice.
Of course Chloe noticed. She felt it too.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed that. Most of the dialogue is from the actual game, but as soon as I get things set up properly we can stray from the exact plot of the game. I'm thinking of making this a 'no time travel' AU, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I left it open, so there's still time to change it. Let me know which you would prefer to read. This will probably follow the plot of the game except the whole let's-kill-Chloe-in-as-many-ways-as-possible thing. Also, don't worry. The fluff is coming soon.
Until next time ;)
-Vulpixels