Based on my IRL bus experiences since returning to uni. Here's to many more!
Bus Trip from HELL(A)
Chloe Price was pissed. Pissed off, not drunk pissed. That distinction was surprisingly important. She wished she was drunk pissed.
With her piece of shit truck under repairs, at David's insistence being the car nerd, she was left stranded without a vehicle. Normally, she wouldn't give a single shit; everywhere in Arcadia was within walking distance. The reason for her annoyance was simple: she was supposed to be traveling to Seattle to meet up with Max for the weekend.
No way could she cancel – she hadn't seen Max in a whole week – or face the defeat that she couldn't make it over; she'd never hear the end of it. Instead of giving her brunette hipster the satisfaction… and disappointment… she made a decision. Neither Joyce nor David could take her all the way, but the latter agreed to take her some of the journey.
Begrudgingly, she piled into the passenger's side as he slid into the driver's seat. Getting into his passion project – a blue and white, 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS454 – he started the engine up with a roar. Chloe couldn't help but roll her eyes at the macho display. Such a tool.
Once he'd done satisfying his car fantasies, they hit the road in silence. Whenever they had tried to start up conversation in the past, it had either led to the bluenette ignoring him or blowing up in his face.
"So… going to see Max again, huh?" His question was awkward, struggling to make small talk.
Unfortunately, Chloe took that as she always did: a hostile challenge. "Yeah, what of it?"
He let out a deep sigh, resting stern expression softening. "I just… wanted to know. We may have had a rough start, I take at least 50% of the responsibility for that." With one blonde eyebrow raised, he exhaled again. "Okay, let's say 60%... my point is, we don't have to be at each other's throats all the time."
"Oh, but then what would we talk about?" the bluenette shot back sarcastically.
"Which is why I was asking you about Max," David finished, no hint of irritation in his voice. "You… seem to care about her a lot."
The mustached man was trying to make an effort, she could see that. Him taking her part of the way to Seattle proved that much. Maybe he deserved another chance. It wasn't like she was totally blameless in this… although 40% still didn't sit right with her.
"I… do. A lot." It felt weird to admit that, especially to someone like David. The man she had not-so-fondly called every name under the sun, even invented new ones when she ran out.
Nodding stiffly, he turned the corner. "I thought so."
When he didn't say anything further, the blue-haired punk was left confused. David always had something to say. "And what? No comments?"
Mustache twitching slightly, he gathered his thoughts. He was no wordsmith. "Just one. It doesn't matter what I think. Or anyone. But for the record, Max has been a good influence on you. Can't complain." Whenever the younger girl was around, Chloe did seem to shift to her 'best behavior' mode… in most instances.
That surprisingly placid response caught her off guard. For the first time in… maybe forever… she was genuinely speechless. She'd always pegged David as the intolerant type, set in his ways about all kinds of stupid shit. Blind. Maybe he deserved more credit than that. And maybe… him saying that meant more to her than she had expected.
When she could speak again, she managed a half-hearted. "Tch, well… wasn't really looking for approval anyway, so…"
He didn't get angry at the remark, already knowing that was the default way Chloe dealt with conversations that got too mushy. Honestly, he was very much the same. Emotionally constipated.
The rest of the journey continued in silence aside from the radio – which the bluenette and ex-soldier battled over for some time. After some rather aggressive back and forth, a mix of country and full-on punk rock, he gave up. Doing one victory lap track, the punk changed it to something less objectional. More Max's style.
Chloe had resisted it for a long time, teased the younger girl relentlessly about her music tastes. Just like she did with everything. Now, she associated it all with Max. Honestly, the time she was happiest.
They drove for some time, eventually pulling in at a bus station. It would still be a long journey, but nowhere near as long as it would have been without David. Both getting out of the car, Chloe slung her bag onto her shoulder.
An awkward silence ensued as they stood there, not knowing what to do. Eventually, David hesitantly held his hand out, fist clenched for a brofist. Normally, Chloe would have laughed him off with a snide remark but today… she humored him. At least it was better than having to hug him. Ugh, the thought alone made her skin crawl.
Actually, the only person she really hugged nowadays was Max. Rachel sometimes. Her hugs were a luxury commodity.
The majority of her journey was peaceful, everyone aboard just wanting to get to their destination quickly and quietly. Glad for that, the punk put on some softer music – the likes of Angus and Julia Stone – blue eyes closing as she fell into an uninterrupted doze.
It had been a while since Max's move to Seattle. Sure, it was… awkward getting in touch at first, but they pretty much fell back into old ways. When they could, one of them made the trip over. They were sat in the brunette's room, re-watching Blade Runner for the umpteenth time. A large bowl filled with popcorn rested between them, sodas balanced on the limited dresser space alongside some recent photos.
"Let's play some 'Truth or Dare'," the older girl suggested with a smirk once the film came to an end and they'd had the usual 'Is Deckard a replicant?' discussion. She knew how much Max hated the game.
"No, I know how this goes," the brunette outright refused, putting her foot down.
"Max… come one. I've come all the way to visit you." To help convincing, Chloe deployed her trump card.
Puppy dog eyes.
It didn't take long for Max to cave in. "Urgh, fine. But I'm picking truth."
Smiling, Chloe knew just what she wanted to ask. "So… hooked up with anyone yet?"
"What?! N-no…" the brunette replied almost instantly, blushing.
"Figures." That made the older girl sigh in soft relief. "Okay then, got a crush on any of these Seattle artholes? Or… anyone else?"
"T-that's not fair," she stuttered. "You already asked me a 'Truth'."
That statement earned her a scoff. "No, not by my rules. If you're a pussy and choose 'Truth', you have to answer more than one."
"You just made that up," Max protested adamantly.
Chloe just shrugged. "So what if I did? My game, my rules."
Max looked like she was about to argue, words giving way to a deep sigh. "There's no arguing with you, huh?"
"Tch, you should know that better than anyone. Now, answer," Chloe insisted firmly.
Averting her eyes, Max gave a small nod. "Yes."
"Hot?" the punk pressed, needing more detail.
Max frowned slightly at the wording. "You really don't quit, huh? I… think she's cute. Anyway, your turn."
Deciding to let her off the hook for now, Chloe shrugged. "Fine. Dare."
With flushed cheeks, Max bit her lip and considered her options. "I dare you to… kiss me."
Blue eyes bulged, not having expected THAT. "Uh… wait, what?"
Max shifted uncomfortably, clearly wishing that the ground could swallow her up now. "I…" Taking a deep breath, she steadied her resolve and repeated. "I dare you, Chloe Elizabeth Price, to kiss me."
The dare left the other girl winded; it seemed to surprise Max just as much. They sat there for a moment, total silence.
"I, uh… nevermind… it was st-" Before she could finish her backtracking, Chloe shuffled closer to her.
"Never let it be known that Chloe Price turns down a dare," the bluenette whispered, leaning her face closer…
"Steven! Steven! Hey, Steven!" The exclamation violently dragged her out of her blissful dream, wondering just who the hell this 'Steven' was and whether she could punch him right in the… "STEVEN!"
Letting out a frustrated groan, she glared at the offending guy sat at the front. God, how she wished she could give him a smack on the head. Looking around, it seemed like that was a collective thought. Gritting her teeth, she turned her music up as high as it would go, rocky guitar filling her ears.
Unfortunately, it only drowned the teenage boy's cries for 'Steven' so much.
It didn't help at the next stop where a couple of old dudes got on, talking loudly about how they wanted girlfriends and how 'well behaved' they had been to two chicks they may or may not know. Of course, they had sat right in front of the blue-haired punk. To top it off, there was a crying child. Not to mention the weird ass kid explaining to his tired and frankly uninterested dad how Batman's weakness was his butthole because of a stormtrooper ramming a gun up there one time.
Praying for the journey to be over, Chloe found the loudest songs she could and plotted their demise. First, she would boot the baby off the bus. Then, get her own gun and do some ramming. Lastly… she would write 'Steven' on her fist and sucker punch the shouty fucker.
By the time she reached Seattle, she was about to pop a vein. Each time the haunting cry of 'Steven' rang through the bus, the collective morale of the bus decreased and the annoyance level skyrocketed. She could actually see some people's eyebrows twitching, jaws tightening and fists clenching.
It was getting to the point where she didn't care if she went to jail for wringing the bastard's neck. She'd probably be seen as a hero, protected by her fellow bus goers.
When they finally got to their destination, she let herself relax. Never had she been happier to see a shitty, run-down bus station as now. Thankfully, Max's house wasn't too far away. Right now was the quickest Chloe had ever walked, verging on a full-out run. That was mostly for the 'Steven' shouting prick's own safety.
She could not get to the Caulfield house quick enough.
Even before she could reach the door, it opened. Max must've been looking out for her. When she saw her blue-haired punk, she smiled and reached out for a hug. Rage fading slightly, Chloe gathered her up and gave her a tight squeeze. They stayed outside for some time, hugging like their lives depended on it.
After some time had passed, they moved inside to the lounge. While Max made some coffee, Chloe set her backpack down and slumped into the couch. "Fuck me. That was goddamn awful. Remind me to never take the bus again."
Returning with the steaming drinks and putting them on the coffee table, Max joined her. "You took the bus?"
"My truck is busted," the bluenette explained, getting irritated all over again.
Looking a little worried and very touched, the brunette smiled softly. "We could've postponed it, idiot."
"No fucking way," her blue-haired girlfriend stated outright. "I hardly get to see you as it is. But I'm gonna give you a break down of my trauma, so buckle up."
As Chole rattled off her hellish journey, Max couldn't help but smile. Not at the obvious emotional torture her bluenette had to endure. More because she endured it. All to come over and see her. As much as Chloe liked to pretend otherwise, she cared. A lot.
"What are you smiling at, dork?" the blue-haired punk asked, confused. When Max placed a tender kiss to her lips, bodies almost melting together, the anger faded away.
The bus journey had been hella worth it.
That was cathartic. Might get a part two one day.