"Justice for Rachel."

Those were the three words on Max's mind, even five years later. There would be justice for her sister. She rolled over, sighing. Currently, she was in some shitty hotel in Tillamook, but was ready to set out to Arcadia Bay.

Arcadia… Fuck that revived a lot of memories, but one more prominent than the rest, even the times with Rachel.

Chloe.

Would she hate her? Be glad that she was back? She'd probably hate her, either way. She had been an asshole to not contact her, to even say she'd be back in Arcadia Bay. She looked in the mirror, brushing her pink pixie cut down, sighing. Max's body, since 16, had made some changes. She had grown a couple inches, and weighed about 160-170 pounds, all of it muscle. The gym had really paid off for her.

Max sighed, and finished up her lipstick, black in color. She exited the hotel's bathroom, and grabbed her jacket, sliding it on. She packs up her stuff, which isn't much, and checks out, paying the man up front. She heads outside, and slides on her motorcycle, a jet black in color. She sighs.

"Arcadia… Here I come."

Time Skip, October 7, 2013

Max, at this point was done scoping everyone out. She knew a few people. There was Warren Graham, a science nerd with a few things in common with Max, who also had a total hard on for her. Another was Kate Marsh, a nice Christian girl, who was being bullied for a "porn" video. The bullies were Victoria Chase, and her minions, Taylor and Courtney. It was quite sad. Victoria was a fucking suck up to Mark Jefferson, who from day one, Max hated. She knew, just from the way he looked at her, that this one the one that took away her Rachel. How she longed to wrap her hands around his fucking throat and choke him out. But no, this wasn't the time.

Max realized something. She had yet to contact Chloe yet. She sighed, and looked at her camera, grabbing it. She had started a thing about taking selfies. One each day. Victoria of course took advantage of this, and started to call her the "goth selfie ho of Blackwell." It's not like she minded too much though. She was a stuck-up jerk.

"I believe Max has taken what you kids call a selfie… A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition." Mark had interrupted what he was saying, something about framing people in a dark corner, (Which he did, as photos of Rachel nude had been found shortly after her body had been. Max knew all the dark shit that he did at this point.) She droned him out until he asked her, "Now, Max, since you captured our interest, and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits."

This was easy. She did quite a bit of research on photography. She kept her answer short, and simple.

The Daguerreian Process," was all she said.

"While she doesn't seem all excited about her answer, Max is correct. Daguerreotypes were created by Louis Daguerre." Max sent Victoria a middle finger under the table. It was obvious she had wanted to answer, anyway. The blonde just gave her a glare. The bell goes off, and everyone gets up.

"...And yes Max, I see you pretending not to see me."

"Kill yourself, asshole."

Victoria was already talking to him, like normal, being her normal suck up self. She was about ready to leave when Mr. Jefferson called out to her.

"I see you Max Caulfield, don't even think about leaving until we talk about your entry."

Of course he wanted to speak to her. She walked over to him, sighing.

"I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in her photo." He stated.

"I'm… Not sure if I have one." She said, "I need a knife to cut your dick off with too."

"I'm sure you have plenty, given the selfie output," He smiled gently at her, but of course, Max saw right through the mask, "You have an excellent eye, I'm sure there's at least one that you have. John Lennon once said 'Life is what happens...'

She cuts him off, "…When you're making other plans."

"You are on fire today, Max. I wish for you to enter a photo soon. I won't be judging until Wednesday, and I'll announce on Thursday. I'll be glad to see your entry. Also… Are you feeling okay?"

Max nods, "Normal girl stuff, that's all."

Jefferson nods as well, "Alright. You just seem a little more… Off than usual."

"Thinking about my sister." She states.

"Sister? Did something happen to her?"

"You know what happened, shithead."

She fought back the urge to punch him in the face, "She was drugged and killed while I lived in Washington."

He nods again, "I… See. Look, if you ever need to talk to me about anything, whatsoever, I'm always open. Okay Max?"

"Alright, Mr. Jefferson."

"That'll be all, you're free to go."

Max nods, and leaves as quickly as possible. She heads down to the bathroom. She needed to calm down badly, after that encounter with Jefferson.

Max sighs, and walks down the hall before entering the girl's bathroom. Heading to a sink, she sighs and washes her face off. She turns a face to a wall, sighing once more, walking behind the stalls. Noticing a butterfly, she grabs her camera as it lands, and snaps a photo of it, right on the bucket. Shaking it out, she slides it into her coat pocket for later. The door swings open, and she goes behind the stalls, when it is revealed to be Nathan Prescott.

"Nathan… What the fuck is he doing here?"

The son of the richest family was in the girl's bathroom. He was currently muttering something. The door swings open again, and a blue haired girl walks in, her hair tucked into a beanie. Something about her looked familiar, but she couldn't place it… She checked the stalls, before walking over to Nathan.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now, let's talk bidness."

The two launched into somewhat of an argument. Max wouldn't get involved. This wasn't her argument. But, she'd at least watch. It was always interesting… Suddenly, Nathan pulled out a gun, and pushed the blue haired girl against the wall, shouting more angrily at her. Something told her that he was going to shoot her too…

She was on top of him almost in an instant, and in the next instant, the gun was knocked out of his hands and kicked away.

"Get the fuck away from her, Prickscott."

"Or what?"

She punched down hard on his throat, "Or I break your mother fucking neck. You know I'm not afraid to either.

She got off of him, and aimed his gun at him, "Money, now, and I won't tell."

Nathan nods, and fishes out three one thousand dollar bills from his pocket, and passes them to the girl, "Is that good enough? She wanted some anyway."

"If that's what she was after, yes. And I keep the gun." She put it in her coat pocket, glaring at him.

"Don't think this is over, Caulfield."

She smiled at him, widely, "Don't worry, I know it isn't."

He left, grumbling to himself. The blue haired girl panted, "Fuck, you hella saved my life. Thank you..."

Max nods, "It's the least I could have done. I thought he was going to pull the trigger."

"He probably would have… Wait, what the fuck did Nathan call you? Cau-" The bluenette's eyes widened in realization, "Max?"

Max was almost surprised as well, this wasn't…

"Chloe?"