I Promise (A Pricefield Fanfiction)

by arcadiagays

Max has returned home to Arcadia Bay after Blackwell Academy accepting her enrollment. She came to the academy to fulfill her love for photography and be taught by one of her favorite photographers, Mark Jefferson. However, there is a possibility that Max secretly wanted to come back to be reunited with her childhood friend, Chloe Price. A romantic, sob story with angst and smut.

Hey there!~

You are very welcome to my first Life is Strange fanfiction! Just so you are aware, I am not new to Life is Strange or fanfiction writing in general. I've written my fair share of cringy fanfics in the past but hopefully they have been eradicated from the internet… *panics and burns laptop*

This fanfic is going to romantic, emotional, angsty, smutty and dear knows what else so if you don't like it, at least stick around for the Pricefield smut c;

But anyway, I hope you enjoy my writing! Please feel free to leave any feedback, advice or comments whether positive or negative and I shall try and apply this to my future chapters.

The low golden haze of the rising sun casts a glow over the campus. The cool spring time breeze sways through the daffodils and trails some of the taffy and alabaster-colored blossom petals off the blooming trees; they spiral before gently sprawling themselves out on the greenery, which is speckled with several small daisies and buttercups.

My feet move swiftly along the cobblestone path, following it to the outside of iron gates, only to meet the basic tarmac sidewalk which leads to the bus stop, just up ahead. I sniffle as I feel some pollen lodge itself up my nose and quickly pull a fresh tissue out of my pocket and catch the exhaled pollen within the soft paper layers of tissue. I look up after my hay fever incident to spy the rusty, slightly bent pole with a faded image of a bus on the steel sign, attached to its loftiest part. I nod with assurance that this is where I am to wait for the bus to arrive but as I wait, I decide to reach into my bag to retrieve my phone and earphones.

I attach the earbuds to the socket in my phone and place them in my ears, scrolling down my playlists until I choose a suitable one. I lock my phone after and slide it into my pocket, along with my hands. At 5am in the morning, it's not exactly the warmest. A short yawn escapes my lips as I gaze up at the cloudy sky. Man, this is going to be one hell of a long bus journey.

Speaking of buses, I glance to my right and down the street to follow the rumbling of the antiquated, mustard bus. The rumbling continues until the bus comes to a halt in front of me and the pneumatic bus doors slide open. I clamber aboard and flash my student bus pass to the driver, who genuinely looks like he wants to kill himself, but nonetheless. He holds a stone cold expression and simply tilts his chin upward, glaring at me constantly through his black, thin framed sunglasses. I swallow and walk up a step and quickly scan the aisles for any empty seats. Who am I kidding? They are all empty. No one gets the bus from Blackwell at 5am in the morning. I settle for one half way down the bus, beside the rounded off, square window and let out a sigh of relief as I plop myself down on the worn out cushions of the bus seat, with that eyesore of a pattern, in colors way too bright for 5am in the morning.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and scan the streets of Arcadia Bay as the bus passes by. The atmosphere is so muted; I can't hear anything apart from little starlings chirping their morning songs, and the rattling of this bus, from the ajar window aloft. The bus sounds like it could fall apart at any minute to be honest. However, I wish I could be as lively as those birds after only two hours sleep. I roll my shoulders back into the bus seat and gently close my eyes for a minute, taking in the words of the music.

"…And now I'm leaving to be somebody else, somebody else for now…"

Way to be sanguine first thing in the morning, Max. You've been back here for a month now, back at home. Don't you think you should call by now? I'm just such an idiot at times. It's been five whole years. But, yet again, that is five whole years spending everyday checking my phone the very first moment I woke up and the very last before I slipped back into unconsciousness. I would sit in classes and doodle your face at the edge of my page, ignoring what shit the teacher was rambling on about; only focusing on you. Days on end were spent wondering if you were going to shout at me down the phone, if you were going to cry, if you even missed me at all. I was just so scared that you had changed your number; that had moved on; that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore. You might not even live here in Arcadia Bay for all I know. And truthfully, I know nothing about you now.

I remember the days leading up to it, when my mother would try to get me to pack my clothes and other belongings but instead, I lay on my bed, muffling unending sobs into the pillow. I didn't want to go. Arcadia Bay was my home, and it still is.

Then it came. That dreaded day. I didn't want to watch myself hurt someone. This wasn't what I wanted. But, I had no choice. And of all the memories I have with her, that one haunts my mind every day.

"Thank you for coming, Max. I know William would have appreciated you being here."

I fumble with the onyx, satin material of my dress and look up sadly. I nod gently. It amazed me how Joyce always seemed to remain positive in situations, no matter how dark and upsetting. I wish I could be like that.

"I just wish…I just wis-"

My words catch in my throat. My lungs gasping for air and suddenly, tears are streaming down my face rapidly and I couldn't stop them. My arms are now down at my sides, clutching tightly into fists.

A familiar hand places itself tenderly on my shoulder and I instantly recognize that it is my mom.

"Joyce, may I speak to you for a moment?" her soft voice askes politely.

They walk off and I stand alone for a moment before I feel a warm embrace from behind. The body jerks with uncontrollable tears and I hear a soft sobbing behind my right ear. I quickly turn around and embrace them, gripping to their clothes with all my might.

I don't want to let go.

"M-Max…t-thank you for being my best friend…" The voice almost whines, the sadness in their tone almost overpowering the words. "…You've been there for me…through every…"

The girl's voice hitches as she falls out of my hold and onto her knees on the floor. I look down, my eyebrows furrowing, my lip quivering. How could I say goodbye to her after today?

I kneel down to meet her and take hold of her hands tightly. I bring them together and up to my lips and kiss her knuckles benevolently, before looking up into her glossy tearful eyes, full with hurt. I never wanted to see her hurt but now I'm experiencing it first-hand…and I'm about to hurt her even more. How could you ever forgive yourself?

"…I-I promise that I'll never leave you, M-Max."

The way her voice catches on my name makes me feel like a literal knife was tearing apart my heart, ripping it to complete shreds.

I bring her to her feet and hug her securely in my arms before my dad approaches.

"Max, it's time to say goodbye. We have to go now."

His voice is so cold, almost evil. It's his fault that he got a stupid job in Seattle and we have to move there. I don't want to go Seattle. I belong here, in Arcadia Bay. This is our home. Not Seattle.

"You're going already? Where are you going?" The girl wipes her tears with a tissue supplied by her mom and her voice is a little worried.

I freeze. My mouth turns dry and I can't get the words out of my mouth. Never have I ever not been able to talk to her but now, I'm petrified. I begin to tremble, tears brimming the corners of my eyes again. This is it. I might never see her again. My best friend. Gone.

"Max?"

I still can't erase the image of her face from my mind, even today. God, it was awful seeing her that hurt and knowing that I did it. Me. I used to be the one who comforted her when she fell off the swing in her back garden and grazed her knees; the one who would be there to support all of her dance competitions and help her to stay calm beforehand; the one who accidentally spilled wine on her carpet and we spent hours trying to wash it out in fear that her parents would find out. I was her friend.

"Max…please!" the voice cries in desperation, hand reaching out hopelessly to grab my sleeve. "Please! You can't go!"

She falls to the ground in defeat, an overwhelming wave of emotions drowning her. I look up at the sky, full of dull gray clouds and sigh. I don't want to look at her. I can't believe this is happening.

I try to pull away before she clings my leg. "WAIT! MAX PL-"

Through struggling breaths and tears, I can just about make out what she said: "I love you, Max."

My head feels light and my vision blurry, with blind spots of red and black. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust before I realize that the bus is slowly rolling down the road, my destination at the end. I flump back into my seat, a sigh of relief washing over me. I stop my music which is still playing in my ears and remove my earbuds, placing them back into my bag. I trail my finger under my nose to notice that my nose is bleeding. Are you cereal? I haven't had one of these in years. The last time I had one was when I was with-

I am thrown forward a little as the bus jolts to a halt. Ah shit. I quickly wipe my nose with a tissue again, put my bag over my shoulder and Polaroid camera around my neck, and arise from my seat. I thank the bus driver, who still looks like he wants to die, and step out of the bus, into the smoke-tainted air. I squint my eyes to observe the prodigious arena. Hell yes. Comic Con; home of the nerds. I stroll awkwardly towards the ever-expanding queue. I can feel nostalgia and excitement flow through my veins. Last time I was here was five years ago, before I left, when I was with-

Someone wipes me out with their papier-mâché scythe and I fall to the ground. My camera knocks the ground and it smashes. Ouch, that's going to leave a few bruises…on the camera, I mean. Of course, the whole queue is basically scrutinizing me now. The kid didn't even say sorry! I exhale calmly before brushing off my knees and attempt to get up. Before I can, I notice an outstretched hand.

"Hey, you alright?"

That voice sounds so familiar. Where have I heard it before? My eyes widen and I look up to see someone unrecognizable, someone different to who I thought it was. I try not to look too disappointed as I accept the offer to be helped up.

"..Oh, um…thanks…" I mumble with ineptitude.

"That was quite a fall, are you sure you'll be alright?" the voice asks again, worrying.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine…thank you again."

Somehow, that voice is so familiar to me, so warm. But where have I heard it before? I've never seen this girl before in my life. She doesn't seem the kind of person to regularly attend cons either. I wonder if she's lost. I wonder why she's here. I shake off my thoughts as I let myself smile a little, trying to ignore the fact that everyone is still probably looking at me and the fact that my camera is now broken.

"Well, we should probably should join the queue if we ever want to get inside," The girl states simply.

I nod in agreement as we both make our way to the end of the queue.

"So…um…what brings you to Comic Con then?" I ask, trying to break the silence and ease the tension.

The girl looks down at me. "Well, I've been coming for the past 6 years. I used to go with a friend bu-"

"ANYBODY WITH A FAST TRACK TICKET, PLEASE JOIN THE QUEUE TO THE LEFT OF THE RAILINGS! ANYBODY WHO HAS NOT ORDERED A TICKET OR HAS A REGULAR DAY TICKET, PLEASE ATTEND TO THE RIGHT OF THE RAILINGS, THANK YOU!"

You would think I am hungover because the shouting makes me groan quietly. It's too early.

The girl clears her throat before she continues, "But, she left 5 years ago…I've been coming every year since…just to see if I ever find her."

Oh shit. Wait what? No way. Surely this can't be-

"Chloe?"

Thanks so much for reading if you made it here! Make sure to come back for more c: