By Tomorrow
The world blurs, nothing but flashing images passing by on glass, rapid and daunting. Max manages to capture the shifting moments, paralysed on glossed paper now. But she isn't always fast enough. The images blur, too. So many things do. Life is hazy. She lives like the wind. She moves, feeling as if there is nowhere to settle. For a time, she can pause, find a second to breathe, share what she has seen. These days feel almost calm. Things seem almost clear. But they never last. She moves once more.
Chloe has taken to playing the guitar, something to fill the silence when the radio can only fuzzily murmur at them during long nights on the road. Sometimes people want to listen to her play and sometimes she lets them. She pauses, too. But she doesn't use this as her chance to take a breath, Max notices; Chloe seems to always hold her breath, waiting and watching. She is more vigilant, eyes set ahead, seeing something yet to come.
Life has turned on Chloe Price. It is a hungry mouth trying to swallow her, death waiting at the throat. If they ever stay too long in one place, a tragedy will come, deaths will follow, gradually forming a neat pile at Chloe's feet, or perhaps a path leading to her. She is the true target and she knows her presence is a plague. If they move, the world has to chase and try to catch up, and the girls have become good at recognising the signs, good enough to elude death again and again.
Max sends away her photos, keeps her bank account from falling into negatives, maybe finds time to visit her parents. It can never be for long. Whatever looms over Chloe can vary in speed and the girl will often remain outside, watching the sick world for symptoms, hoping it is a slower day so Max can talk to her parents about her small successes, her growing name. It never feels like there's enough time.
Today, Chloe's rusted truck takes them to San Francisco, to the gallery Max once stood in, staring at her winning piece. Nothing of hers is there now and Chloe stands with her, actually looking at the pictures on the walls. She is often reserved, but here she is open, taking things in. This is Max's life. Her dream is to have her pictures here, in this reality. Maybe Chloe understands that. Or wants to.
Lately, Chloe is flippant with her words, indifferent and distanced, but today she says something Max will never forget:
"Your stuff won't ever be put up here."
Max takes a stuttering breath before she asks, "Why?"
Chloe looks at her, solemn features brightening faintly. "Yours are hella better than all these. They'd be morons to put treasure with trash."
Max can't help herself and she takes Chloe's face into her hands and tries to kiss her, but she turns away, the momentary brightness fading once more. Max fumbled. For whatever reason, Chloe won't accept Max's advances anymore. Max will try and be refused over and over, but she doesn't give up. She can't. Chloe is all she wants. She kisses her cheek.
They leave the gallery and Max isn't sure she'll ever see it again. These displays are for artists. Her photos are eaten up by travel agencies wanting a glimpse of places they may never actually see themselves. She's not making art.
"Is there anything else you want to see while you're here?"
Max thinks about it and feels a twinge of guilt. Chloe tries so hard to give her what she wants, but all she can truly offer is a dynamic life with no chance of settling. It's reckless to find beauty in that.
"Can we just... take a walk?"
Chloe doesn't always approve of extended trips, but she seems a little more at ease today and she allows it. Max is grateful enough and hopeful enough to risk grabbing Chloe's fist. To the photographer's delight, Chloe's fingers slacken and she allows Max yet another luxury; they hold hands.
There is human clutter all around but Max feels separate from it. She is in a rush just as they are, but they all have a destination. This aimlessness has a hint of emptiness, but any other hollow crack in her wall is filled by Chloe, keeping it standing. But Chloe has sealed her heart away and Max can't help but feel that wall threatening to crumble every time she is denied that little bit more.
With her free hand, Chloe pulls out a cigarette, bites it, and Max lights it for her. The reaction is instant. Disapproving stares turn on Chloe, and one person, a mother with her child, tells her she shouldn't smoke outside a restaurant, or even smoke at all.
"Eat it, hag," Chloe snaps, blowing smoke in the woman's direction. She stumbles back, dragging her son with her. She makes a disgusted noise and moves on.
Max watches the woman go, suddenly missing her own mother. She isn't nearly as overbearing, but she can be unreasonably strict. That woman's pinched face had a likeness Max can't shake.
"Have you tried calling your mom?" Max asks.
"No." She's lying, Max knows.
"David?"
"Fuck him."
"There's a chance they both survived, Chloe."
"It doesn't matter."
"Why not?"
"If mom's alive, I can't see her. It's my fault she lost her home, her business, and if whatever it is following me gets to her again, she might not make it this time. Or, she's already dead. It's shit either way."
"I think you should at least let her know you're safe." Max holds onto hope, clings to it. She wants to believe so badly that there are survivors in Arcadia Bay, that those she cares for persevered. Chloe had made it clear she didn't want any information relating to the city, so Max abstains from checking the news.
"Whatever."
Max tweaks Chloe's cigarette between her fingers and takes it, raising it to her own lips and inhaling. Chloe snatches it back roughly and glares at Max as she slowly breathes the smoke out, the heady wisps of thick grey clouds framing her smirk.
Max's dreams are too vivid. She hates sleeping. She sees all the realities she jumped between, sees Chloe die more times than she can count. Bullets come fast and shatter her friend, then the dream. When she wakes up, the moonlight is reflecting off Chloe's necklace, the bullet triplets haunting her even now.
Sleeping in the truck makes her restless and she likes it that way. She doesn't have to keep dreaming. The gear shift will poke her, the window will become too hard to lean against and she will awaken and readjust herself.
There's a quiet ringing sound, faint beeps, a muffled voice. Max shifts enough to see that Chloe is on her phone, but she isn't speaking. It's not the first time she has called someone in the middle of the night only to stay silent. Max never asks because she's almost sure it's Joyce she's calling. And Chloe's face tells Max that Joyce isn't answering. She never does.
Chloe puts her phone down and looks at Max. She doesn't seem too surprised to find her awake.
"You okay?" Chloe asks.
"Yeah. Are you?"
"I can't sleep."
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't how you envisioned your life being, but-"
"You're wrong," she interrupts harshly. "This is exactly how I wanted things to be. On the go. Free." She is too lucid for such a late hour. Her palm slams on the steering wheel. "Everyone dies because of me, Max, and I can't...I can't do this without you. But I'm always afraid of losing you. I'm scared to get closer to you, even though I want to, but what happens when you leave me? How can I handle losing the person I love the most?"
And now Max is in Chloe's nightmare.
"That isn't going to happen. Ever. I will literally defy time and space to be with you. If I'm ever gone, I'm only gone as long as it takes me to find my way back to you. I know you've lost a lot, Chloe, and I blame myself for that, but I need you to believe me when I say I'm the one thing you will never lose. I love you. So much."
Max thinks it's the right time, but she is only on the rim of the problem and when she leans in, Chloe pushes her back.
"I wish I could believe that."
Max doesn't know if Chloe will ever open herself up again, but this is another thing she hopes for. In a way, she thinks she should feel hopeless, but with the world of possibilities she witnessed, she knows there's a chance Chloe will recover. She would sleep through countless nightmares if it meant Chloe wouldn't shy away from her touch, from her feelings.
She opens the car door, the crisp night air rushing in. Something in Chloe's rejection ruptured Max, made her chest tight and the air in her throat thin. She needs to breathe.
A murmured explanation is all she leaves Chloe before she shuts the door and follows the road back the way they'd come. The high trees on either side block out the low light, but scattered moonbeams manage to flicker through the leaves occasionally, illuminating the road with gloomy patterns.
She hears Chloe slam the car door, but it's distant behind her, curving around the crowd of trees.
She soon finds she is out of breath and she pauses a moment, hand pressing into the bark of the nearest tree. Her palm pulses, a spasm she occasionally receives since learning of her power. She had hoped her decision to never use it again would put an end to the spasms. No such luck.
Max looks at her hand, imprinted by the tree, considering all she had done with just a flick of her wrist. Worlds fell apart, lives changed and taken. She did that. She fucked everything up. Chloe included. She may carry this with her for the rest of her life. It's a scary thought.
She breathes in and notices a faint light coming from her right. It's from Chloe's phone. She is wasting battery. The cigarette receptacle is broken. They can't charge their phones often.
"Max?" Chloe's voice is timid, but loud in the dark.
"Right here."
Chloe walks close, the light from her phone swiping over the trees as she throws her arms around Max and holds her. Her necklace wedges awkwardly against Max's collarbone, but it's still comfortable. She hugs back even tighter.
"I'm sorry."
They can't afford a motel. Chloe's busking bought them a few snacks, nothing substantial, so they lie on the hood of the truck, overlooking the city they will arrive in tomorrow. The lights wink sweetly in the night, bright like earthed stars. Chloe gives Max her uncooked packet of noodles, her appetite seemingly non-existent. Max breaks it in half and holds the food out until Chloe takes it. They eat in silence, but Chloe abandons her meal long before Max finishes hers.
"You can have more than this, you know," Chloe tells her.
"We can't really afford more."
"I mean more than this life. You could have the whole world, and you deserve it. I can't give you that."
"You are my world."
"Max..."
"I'm being serious. Yes, I'd love to be a great artist, but being with you is something I value more than any possible status I could have. You aren't even actually preventing me from anything; I can take a different path that might still lead me to the right place. We can't be afraid to live and we can't be afraid to be happy." Max holds out her hand, pinkie offered, a cement binding. "Deal?"
"You always were the braver one." Chloe smiles, shakes her head, but still interlocks their fingers. "Deal."
Chloe gazes at their hands and there is a severity in her eyes that awes Max. Since they left, Chloe was afraid. She'd lost so much and Max could understand why she was hesitant.
She isn't ready for Chloe's hand to cover hers completely, but she immediately accepts it. Chloe hasn't initiated the contact since they hugged by the road. Max wants more, but she won't press her luck. She knows Chloe is going at a pace she's comfortable with. She has to be patient.
"Here's to being happy."
Chloe looks at her intently. She'd never been fixated on anything but horizons since they left, but in this moment, Max feels almost like she's drowning, pinned down by sharp blue. Chloe's hand brushes her cheek and Max knows she cried a little. The dampness is swept away with a single touch and the hand moves on, slides along her neck, fingertips teasing her hair.
Max feels like crying again, because Chloe's hard edges have left and the softness is almost unbearable. She feels the breath preceding the contact and when Chloe finally kisses her, Max comes undone, body weakening. She falls back and Chloe gently guides her down onto the car's hood. The metal is warm but the kiss is warmer and Max might just melt.
She feels the deeper cracks filling, feels her heart overflowing, and for a second, Max thinks they really will be okay. Darkness will always stand over them, but within, there is a light blinding enough to briefly hide the shadows. When it fades, they will run. While it lasts, Max will hold on.
So let's love fully
And let's love loud
Let's love now
'Cause soon enough we'll die
- Soko