Hey guys! It's Dia!
I am SO SO SO sorry that this update is late. Those of you who have been regularly following my story know that I was homeless for a period of time immediately following when I started writing Obsessed back in November. I am delighted to announce that I've finally moved into a new home with my girlfriend and a few other great friends. Thank you guys for giving me the love and support you have as followers of Obsessed.
On to the meat of the story! Only three more chapters left, can you believe it? And even though this one is short, the next few are gonna b y. After all, so much to resolve! As always, please leave a review if you like the work, it makes my life so much better when I get them. You're all amazing humans!
Chapter TW: Mention of suicide attempt, needles, mention of physical abuse.
Love you guys!
-Dia
P.S. If you noticed that I used to go by Ocean and switched to Dia now, that's because I've been 'fiddling around' with my writer's name/identity, and finally settled on the name I want. Still the same person though!
-ooo-
"Everyday heroes, that was his big student selling point, right?" Chloe sat with papers strewn all around her, lanky legs crossed with the laptop perched on top. Sean sat across from her, hair on end from having run his hand through it so many times as he scanned over a magazine. The cover bore Jefferson's work.
"I don't know, Chlo. That was a student contest, and he had a direct line in, what with Blackwell and everything."
"Yeah but think about it like this." Chloe pushed herself upright, back against the couch legs, and took on a mockingly studious air. "I'm Mark Jefferson. My work is the greatest thing the human eye has ever beheld. If you're lucky, I'll let you kiss my-" She trailed off as Sean laughed uproariously. Hand on her chest, she looked at him with large eyes and mock offense. "Do you take me for sarcastic, sir?"
His laughter faded to a bemused smile. "What's your point, Price?"
"He's a competition junkie. If that model friend of yours is right and he plans to," Chloe shuddered, "marry Max, he's going to want her to be competitive too. You should have seen how much he pushed her to be in that stupid friggin contest. It was all he talked about with her." Her voice had bittered over the course of speaking, and she sighed and looked away.
Sean nodded, finger running down a table in the magazine. "You think he'll want her to enter more rookie contests?"
"For sure. Or at least gallery stuff. It would probably be something he posted on his blog too." She typed the address smoothly. It was in her recent history, she'd poured over it with almost fangirl intensity.
There was a new post. Chloe paused for a moment, eyes wide, fingers over her mouth. There she was. Max, in a summer dress, with long blonde hair and big eyes that were the wrong color. The caption read that the happy couple, Maxine Elizabeth and Mark Jefferson, soon to be married, would be leaving the country for a destination wedding in Fiji. Max had her eyes downcast, hair blowing innocently in her face, camera clasped between her hands. Mark was behind her, arms wrapped around her waist and kissing her cheek. They looked happy, though Max looked more than a little vacant. She was wearing a pretty silk scarf tied around her neck, but Chloe could see the tiniest bit of a black band under it. The same black band that she'd been wearing at the museum.
"Son of a bitch," she growled, skimming down the long, gushing post. It disgusted her in the depths of her stomach. He was getting away with it, getting away with everything he wanted. She was NOT going to let that happen.
"There." Sean pointed to the bottom paragraph of the post, he'd shifted to be sitting behind her, reading over the shoulder. "….Maxine Elizabeth, also a photographer, will be displaying her work at the Kurt Lewin Gestalt art gallery during the upcoming 'Stolen Moment' photography challenge."
"Search that. Can we get into that? Is there another party?"
"That'll go about as well as last time, Chloe."
"Shut up." Chloe snapped, forehead in her hands as she thought furiously. How could she work her plan into this contest? She just needed to get close enough to pass Max the pieces. They were tucked in her pocket, as they had been since Max had torn them in half. Surely, if anything, that would prove to Max that it was Chloe, not a hallucination.
"We're going to enter the contest." Chloe said firmly.
"Sure, Chlo, and I suppose you'll be taking photos good enough to get us in the door?" Sean rubbed the stubble on his chin in frustration.
"Nope." Chloe grinned widely, "But I do have access to Max's online private photo albums."
-ooo-
"Gentle with it, Maxine." Mark's voice was smooth and lulling, as it had been for days. Maxine sat on the couch, quiet. She hadn't spoken much since that night at the window, but hadn't fought against him again. The windows were locked now, knives put away and medicine shelf emptied. Mark had no intention to risk her again, and had been soothing and sweet instead of his usual harshness. Maxine had not brought up the punk Chloe again, thank the gods. He needed to keep his angel safe and focused on what was important - him.
In that vein, he'd bought her this gift to try and make her happy. Besides, he wanted to bring sweet Maxine a taste of her old life. He watched her unwrap the tissue paper with slender, shaking hands.
It was a camera. A small beautiful camera that instantly printed the photographs, just like the one she'd had in his classroom. He loved her dedication to the art of film, slowly being lost in this digital age. He wished he could have gotten her a film roll camera so he could have helped her, held her hands as she developed them in pools of chemicals. His sweet muse. However, Maxine would be much happier with an instant print camera.
She stared at it, holding the cool plastic and metal tight between her shaking pale hands.
"Well, are you going to take one of your… selfies?" Mark asked smoothly. Maxine reached out slowly, taking a deep breath and turned the camera to face herself. FLASH. It printed from the bottom, and she stared blankly at it. Mark took it from her hands, smiling in delight. It was if he had, through his cleverness and his art, created his own person.
Maxine heard Mark talking, but as if from underwater. She'd been lost in her own world since she'd seen the deer. She knew Mark had lied to her, that he had no intention of taking her to see Chloe, but for the first time since the beatings and shockings she'd come to realize that it was alright. Dying wouldn't help her because, Mark had confirmed, Chloe was still alive. Maxine (Max, your name is Max she kept repeating to herself) had a reason to escape. It must have been Chloe that night at the museum, no matter how hard Mark tried to deny it, and that meant Chloe knew where she was. Chloe could be waiting around any corner, there to rescue her.
"Did you hear me Maxine?" Maxine looked up, blinking in confusion. Mark had been talking to her.
"No, I didn't." She said quietly.
"Pay better attention, my sweet. What I was saying, is that I'd like to take you to the park. We could take some pictures. Take that new camera for a test drive."
"I'd… I'd like that." She said, the words tasting far away in her mouth. He grinned and picked up the designer coat he'd bought for her to wear. Then he frowned and turned back to his table.
"Maxine, angel, I didn't want to have to do this to you but please understand... I simply can't afford to lose you again." Maxine could hear clinking sounds and felt fear clench through her.
"Mark, what is that?"
"Nothing you need to worry about angel." He turned and walked close to her. There was something sharp in his hand. A needle.
"N-no! Keep that away from me!" Maxine backed up but Mark grabbed her arm tight, clenching.
"Please don't struggle Maxine. I want this to be over quickly."
"I d-don't want more drugs! P-please no more!" Maxine struggled against his grip. He laughed softly.'
"It isn't drugs my sweet, I promise." Maxine felt a sharp stab of pain as the needle went into the back of her shoulder. It was a wide tip and she choked and struggled, tears welling up in her contact irritated eyes. He drew it out after a moment with a sigh of satisfaction and gently placed a band-aid over the puncture. She shuddered quietly for a moment, then rubbed her shoulder and looked up.
"You didn't lie... I.. I don't feel drugged."
"I try not to lie to you, my sweet." Mark kissed her forehead and helped her into her coat. He wouldn't answer her unspoken question, so she didn't speak it. "Now come on. It's a beautiful day out, I haven't taken you anywhere in weeks, and you've got an award winning photo to take. With my instruction of course."
Together, they left the house. Maxine said nothing as the cool wind whipped her artificial curls around her face.
Chloe could be around any corner. She reminded herself sternly. You can survive this.