A/N: This fic is a follow-up to Here at the End of All Things. All you really need to know is that things here are different, but if you want to know why, and in what way, please consider reading the earlier work.

I had originally planned on 4 chapters, but this one got a little long and had a natural break in the middle, so we're going to 5!


Chapter 4; Silence

On a real good day, I'm the world's best friend
You'd be mine too, if you caught me just then
And though I'm not happy, I can pretend
On a real good day

-Robbie Fulks, On a Real Good Day

May 27th, 2012

"Who?"

"Samantha Myers. Nathan's girlfriend. You know who she is. We want her to be able to keep attending Blackwell next year." Victoria Chase crossed her arms and tried to lean back in the firm leather chair that sat in front of Sean Prescott's desk. The high, stiff back with the hard buttons seemed purposely designed to keep her uncomfortable, leaning forward like she was hanging on Prescott's word.

The man himself sat in a doughy pile between an antique mahogany desk and a massive leather chair that both seemed to engulf and eclipse him. His body nearly lost among the oversized furniture just as his scrunched little features were crammed into the very center of his large, potato-like head. Tiny glasses framed his rodent-like eyes and almost seemed to act as the singularity that drew his entire face together. If a fairground caricature artist were tasked with drawing an innately small man trapped in a life that was too big for him, the result would not look entirely unlike Sean Prescott.

As if to demonstrate who had the power between them as Victoria struggled for comfort, Prescott reclined deeply into his far more luxurious chair. His round, pulpy face smirked at her, "That sounds like something you should discuss with Principal Wells."

"Please, Mr. Prescott, I think we both know who the real decision-maker is around here," she said, batting her eyes. That's right. The cute girl is flattering you. Soak it up, you slime! "And we also want Nathan to be able to continue seeing his therapist."

She noticed his beady eyes flinch at mention of the T-word. An obvious sore spot. "I've always thought you were a smart girl, Miss Chase. Smart enough to know when things don't concern you."

"Nathan is my friend. He's like a brother to me. I want what's best for him."

Prescott made a rough exhale that might have almost passed for a laugh if it came from any other face, "You're a teenager. You don't even know what's best for yourself and you certainly don't know what's best for Nathan."

Victoria could tell when she had been dismissed. She knew she was about at the limits of where civility would take her in this confrontation. Time to get less civil. She snorted, "Is that a joke? Have you ever even met the real Nathan? Do you know why he gets picked on? It's not because he's weak. It's because you're trying to make him something he's not. He doesn't want to be on the football team any more than the other guys want him there, and the only reason he did well in the Tempest was because of Sam."

Victoria didn't think it was possible for Prescott's weaselly little eyes to narrow further, yet narrow they did. "Do you enjoy attending Blackwell Academy, Miss Chase? Would you like to continue doing so?"

Victoria scoffed, "You think you can get me kicked out next year? I'm not some helpless scholarship waif, you know. My parents have a lot of ears in Seattle. You think Wells wants to make enemies of them?"

Prescott tented his fingers together and enunciated slowly, "I'm just suggesting that maybe sticking to your own affairs would be more beneficial for your long-term academic success."

She settled back into the chair, as much as it would let her, and crossed her legs, wrapping her hands around the chair's arms. She was going for elegant-yet-challenging. This soggy bag of loose meat needed to know it was Victoria Maribeth Chase he was dealing with, "You know what? Get me kicked out next year. I dare you! You go ahead and cash in your little favors and burn your little bridges and you do it. I wanna see you do it. I wanna see just how much it costs you. I bet it won't be cheap."

"You'd be surprised what I'd be willing to spend to protect my son." He continued his deliberately slow delivery. Probably thought it was intimidating. Victoria was not impressed.

"I was certainly surprised to learn what you're willing to spend to bribe building inspectors", quipped Victoria, tossing the Polaroid photos onto the table. "I admit those aren't my best work. I kept the better shots for my portfolio."

Prescott picked up the photos. His piggy little face tried to hide it, but Victoria recognized the tell-tale flinch of someone who knows their weakness has been exposed. With flustered urgency, he said, "What do you think you're going to do with this? Hmm? Who do you think you're going to convince? You could have faked this in five minutes, and even in Arcadia Bay it would have to be a very slow news day for the local press to run a story about building codes. This isn't a fight you can win."

Victoria leaned forward, all charm again. The weight of the ruffle on the front of her royal blue silk blouse pulled the fabric forward and gave away just enough of her cleavage to be distracting. She knew. She'd practiced in the mirror, "But wouldn't it be easier not to fight at all? Wouldn't it be easier just to let Nathan keep seeing his therapist and his girlfriend? He'll be happier. I'll be happier. And I can make all these photos go away, and then you'll be happier. Doesn't that sound like a win for everybody?"

Prescott's dark eyes became even colder and denser, like they had withered into specks of coal. His undersized features settled in a scowl he probably hoped was stern, but just came off to Victoria as pissy. If you asked that same caricature artist to draw an angry cartoon rat face on Mr Potato-Head, you would wind up with yet another ringer for Sean Prescott. He gestured toward the door. "This meeting is over, Miss Chase."

"I guess it is," she replied, drawing herself up to her feet imperiously. She glowered down her nose at him, "Do right by Nathan, Mr. Prescott, or I will blow the roof off Pan Estates!"


Twenty minutes later, Victoria paced around her room, still trying to compose herself. Where the hell was Rachel? Why wasn't she there? They were supposed to do this together! Nobody stands Victoria Chase up! Just as she reached for her phone to call and angrily demand an explanation, the phone beat her to it, chirping into life with the ring-tone she had set for Rachel; Princess Fuchsia's theme from Perils of Prismatica.

She huffed at it. Oh, of course now she's available! She no-shows at Prescott's office but then expects everybody else to drop everything and jump whenever she calls. Well, no thank you! Victoria Chase is not so easily cast aside! Let her wait. Let her stew. Let her come crawling back.

Her resolve lasted all the way to the second ring before the answered.

Before Victoria could complain, Rachel opened with, "I'm sorry I wasn't there. How'd it go?"

Victoria took a breath. Why was it so hard to stay mad at Rachel? If anybody else had ever stood her up like that she'd have never let them hear the end of it. She was still riding Taylor for the Sriracha Incident, and that was from freshman year. "I'm still shaking. Talking to that asshole is like arguing with a beady-eyed ham with an attitude problem. He does this squint thing at you the whole time. Like he's only barely tolerating your existence. I really hope Nathan doesn't turn out like that."

"Did you use my phrase?"

"About blowing the roof off? Yes. And it sounded every bit as corny as I thought it would," she rolled her eyes. She still couldn't quite believe she'd said it. "What's our next move? I don't think that prick will budge based on our little blackmail threat."

"I knew he wouldn't," Rachel admitted with a sigh.

"What? Then why did you let me go in there? Why weren't you there to back me up! I needed you! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm at Pan Estates and... you know, I ought to thank you. I realized something about myself that night we were out in the rain, and I don't think I ever would have known if you hadn't pulled me down off that statue, but now I see it; or... feel it, I mean. It's so obvious. Staring me right in the face all these years."

"Rachel, are you..." High? Crazy? Coming on to me? Some combination thereof? Victoria didn't know what to make of this sudden wistful turn, but then, a lot about Rachel seemed to mystify her.

"But I can't do it on purpose. At least, I don't think I can."

Victoria only managed to make a few incoherent huffs in reply. She paced aimlessly in a circle. She had really thought she had a handle on this week, but it was fast degrading into a series of curve-balls.

Rachel lobbed yet another, "I need you to make me mad, Vic."

"What?"

"Mad. It's an emotion. See also; Angry. Furious. I need you go full alpha bitch on me one last time."

"I... Rachel...I don't... I don't want to!" Bitch had been a word Victoria used to sling around like it was seasoning. Somehow, after a few days with Rachel, the word had its old bite back. She didn't really want to be that any more. She didn't want to say it. Her time in the bitchisphere was over, or at least she had hoped it was.

"Come on, I know you want to. You've been sitting on it all week, letting it build up. All the insults, all the mean. You've got to let out it! Isn't it better to blow it in the face of the one person who's asking?"

Victoria paused. Her mouth moved wordlessly. Was that really what Rachel thought of her? She had felt it building up. She felt like her worse instincts, her malice, her spite, her awful words, were akin an angry pit bull she was just barely managing to keep on a leash. But to think that Rachel could tell, and worse, expected it of her; that Rachel would come to her as a reliable local bitchiness supplier; it stung. It really stung.

"Vic... I've been lying to you. I don't care about your problems. I needed you around for my own sake. I'm using you to help me test something. You talked about being true to my intentions? Well I guess I can still fool you after all, huh?"

A trap-door opened in Victoria's heart. All the good will of the past few days fell out. The stress of confronting Sean Prescott and now the chill of Rachel's apparent betrayal was a 1-2 punch for which she had no counter. Part of her objected that Rachel was lying for some reason; Just saying that to provoke a reaction. But another part felt like that might actually be worse than if she was telling the truth. It felt like being socked in the gut when she was already nauseous. Her hands shook. Her eyes turned cold and distant. She let the leash slip from her hands.

"Rachel... Fucking... Amber!"

"Yes?"

"You are a fucking sham! A hollow, fake, nothing of a person," Victoria cried. She held the phone right in front of her so she could spit her words directly into it.

Rachel made no reply.

"You think you're popular? You're not popular. You don't have 're just nice enough to all the boys that they all think they're going to get to fuck you, and the girls just have to smile and nod, but we all know the truth. I'd call you a slut, but at least a slut is real. A slut does the work. You're a fake slut. You're gold paint on a fucking blow-up doll!"

Silence.

"You wanted to 'rip the band-aid off' and face Chloe, but you couldn't even stay in a room with her for five minutes. And now, here, today, you leave me to face beady-eyed ham-man all by myself, because you didn't want to face the possibility someone might dare to say no to Rachel Fucking Amber! No wonder you were too scared to run away without someone to hold your hand. Coward is a bad look for you!"

Silence.

"You feel inadequate compared to your mom? Well, guess what! You should! She's a rare beauty with charisma for days! Insightful, perceptive, funny. I was only around her for two minutes and I already like her better than you. And those two minutes were all took to see what a sad little parody of her you perform every day. Get your own personality, why don't you? They're not expensive."

Silence. Maybe a sniffle.

"Chloe Price never loved you! You were right. You knew it the whole fucking time, but you're such a liar, you were even lying to yourself! She is in love with someone else, and what's more, she always has been. You were just a placeholder. That's all you're ever going to be for anybody, because nobody will ever get to know the real you! If there even is one!"

She put the phone back to her ear and heard short, stuttering breaths on the other end of the line, but no answer. Bitch knew she was right! Time to end this!

"Some day, Chloe and her freckle girl are going to be really, truly happy together, something you're not even capable of, and she won't even think about you, ever again!"

Victoria had to pull the phone away as Rachel launched into a mighty scream. She heard a roar of wind, and then a dull clatter as if the phone had been dropped, then more wind static, and then silence.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. Dark clouds descended on the horizon like carrion birds. A sudden gust rattled Victoria's windows. She dropped to her knees and shivered. With quavering voice, she meekly called Rachel's name over the dead line. And again. And a third time.

Silence.

The rain began to fall.