Life is Strange ~ Capturing your soul ~
A/N: As always thanks to everyone for reading and following this story. It's really very much appreciated. A special thank you goes to lunamoon531, tur1823, Gamergurl23, Xander The Prince, ambernass25 and mrsvandebilt for taking the time and leaving a review. It's such a kick to know people are really getting into this story and enjoy reading it. You guys are awesome. :)
Chapter 9: Face your fear
Thick, gray clouds covered the dark sky. It was already early evening and the staff parking lot was mostly empty. The only cars left were the ones from Principal Wells and Mr. David Madsen. Mark Jefferson chose to park his sedan near the exit to the main street and turned off the engine.
A momentary silence engulfed the car, only softly punctured by the comforting sound of raindrops hitting the windows panes. The heater was blasting hot air directly at Max's upper body, spending warmth and drying up her wet clothes. It was almost too warm for her taste but she didn't really mind the heat. The young student was somewhere else again as she just gazed out of the side window, being completely absorbed by her own thoughts. So much had happened today that she felt the need to get some rest and to have enough personal time for herself to reflect upon everything.
Mark seemed to be aware of the chaos inside her mind and gave her the time she needed to collect herself.
He released his belt bucket quietly and shifted in his seat, his brown eyes glancing at his student next to him.
The silence continued for a few long seconds before he finally decided to break the silence, talking to her with a concerned expression on his face. "I know much has happened, Max. It must be overwhelming for you but I hope you're okay."
Max only nodded in response and Mark held out a hand and offered. "If there's anything you need..."
"It's alright, really. I probably just need some time to rest, that's all." Max quickly said and eyed the path that led straight to the bicycle parking area now. There was instantly a queasy feeling in her stomach as if she had this hunch that Nathan might hurt her again at that exact same place. For a moment she wished that she possessed the ability to teleport to her dorm room to enter a safe space again.
Maybe she was becoming paranoid now, worrying that Nathan could hide and lurk around every corner to ambush her. Her mind began to conjure the weirdest images. Nathan laughing and staring down at her with a crazy grin on his face. A needle coming closer and closer right in front of her, aiming to pierce her eye. A feeling of helplessness and horror as she watched pale hands grab her roughly, enclosing around her like claws, lifting her unconscious body and carrying her to a place of cold, absolute darkness.
'Please beam me up, Scotty. Now!' Max thought, her blue eyes scanning the whole campus area warily.
"Are you afraid? Afraid of Nathan?" Mark wanted to know. It didn't sound like a question and more like a statement in her ears.
She let out a heavy sigh, mumbling very quietly. "To tell you the truth, I don't feel safe here anymore. What if Nathan plans to attack me again?"
"I seriously doubt Mr. Prescott would be so foolish to even try that. And Ray, Principal Wells assured me that our Mr. Madsen will keep an eye on him from now on. He'll become his watchdog and will follow Nathan wherever he goes. There's really no need to worry." Mark reassured her, obviously trying to ease her fears.
'That won't hold Nathan back. It's just a pointless endeavor.' Max thought and gave him a faint smile. "Well, I know Mr. Madsen is our chief of security but he can't observe Nathan around the clock. That's impossible."
"You're right. And that's the reason why Principal Wells is also quite eager to install those surveillance cameras here." Mark reminded her and remarked with a smirk, "Although I have to say Mrs. Grant isn't really fond of that idea. She thinks it might turn Blackwell into a high security penitentiary."
"Mrs. Grant has a point there." Max commented dryly and gazed down at her lap, fiddling with her own fingers in a nervous manner and admitting to him. "It might sound stupid but I'm scared out of my pants whenever I come across Nathan now. Sometimes it's gotten so bad that I just want to lock myself inside the girl's bathroom and never come out again. So I was thinking that maybe... maybe it might be best if I leave Blackwell and go back to Seattle."
Mark Jefferson stared at her in surprise as if he never expected that she would even consider such a rash decision. He hesitated for a few seconds, pursing his lips and trying to measure his next words very carefully. "You're thinking about leaving, Max? You would give up that once in a lifetime opportunity to study art here at Blackwell Academy which offers one of the best photography programs in the world? All because of Nathan?"
Max narrowed her eyes and let out a long, shaky breath, resignation in her voice. "After talking to Principal Wells it became clear to me that I can't really change anything. Not without any proof."
A strange gleam appeared in her teacher's brown eyes as he stated in a calm tone. "That's not you, Max. I know you're a fighter and I can't believe you'd give up so easily. Turning your back on Blackwell is like admitting defeat. Do you want that? Do you really want Nathan to win?"
Her nostrils flared and her hands instinctively curled into tight fists. Anger welled up inside her as her gaze returned to him, snapping back. "No, of course not but..."
Max hated this because she felt uncomfortable talking about Nathan Prescott yet Mark continued to pressure her. His whole body seemed tense as he took her hand in his, his brown intense eyes were boring into her blue ones, searching for an answer. "Please, you have to tell me, Max! What did Nathan do? He didn't just hit you on the head, didn't he?"
There was a long pause now. Max's eyes fell shut and her brows furrowed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. It was painful to think or even worse to talk about this and she couldn't stop herself from trembling and shuddering at her own memory. "I-I don't think you'd believe me..."
"Shh, don't worry. I know Nathan is a..., well, let's say he's a complicated and troubled young student. So whatever he did to you, I believe you, Max." He made clear, his silken voice sounding so soft, covering her anxiety and calming her like a blanket wrapped around her body.
Max felt herself loosen up a little and took a deep breath, composing herself to go on. "After I've been hit on my head, there was something odd. I felt a sharp sting at my neck and I'm not really one hundred percent sure but I-I think, I-I assume... h-he drugged me. Although I-I can't prove it. Nurse Barenchi's blood test result didn't show any drug substances in my blood."
The tension in his body was slowly subsiding and his facial expression softened visibly. His right hand began to stroke over hers comfortingly as he questioned her in a curious tone. "Did you tell Principal Wells that Nathan might have drugged you?"
"O-Of course not! Principal Wells is clearly on Nathan's side and he wouldn't believe anything I say." Max replied quickly, all her frustration apparent in her voice.
For a moment Mark became silent as if he was contemplating her answer. Then his focus shifted back to her and he spoke soothingly. "I'm sorry that you had to experience such an awful event and I can understand how you feel. But I don't think that running away from Nathan will solve your problems, Max. Believe me, I can speak from personal experience that it might make it even worse."
Max looked up at him, hoping her teacher could help her somehow although a part of her didn't want to hear what he had to say. She wanted nothing more than to hide herself away and to avoid any further conflict.
Leaving everything behind and shutting herself off had worked when William Price died. She didn't answer Chloe's calls or letters and thought it was best to let the dust settle on this tragedy, to wait for her best friend to recover on her own. In her heart Max knew that this approach was wrong, yet she was unable to act differently. The loss of a family member, especially a father was devastating and very painful. The sheer thought to go through the same situation as Chloe was unimaginable to her. There was nothing she could do or say to help or make her best friend feel any better.
'Mark is wrong. I'm not a fighter. I'm just a coward and steering clear of my problems is my specialty.' She thought bitterly.
Still, her own frustration and anger was so great that it prevented her from taking the cowardly action. If there was a way out of this mess, she needed to know how.
"What should I do now?" She asked and looked at him with pleading eyes as if he was her savior, her light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. The only one who could guide her and give her strength.
"You have to face your fears, Max. I know you're scared but you can't let your fears determine and dominate your life. It's an important part of growing up to go out there and to overcome any obstacle blocking your path. Even if this hurdle is the son of the great Sean Prescott. You must stay strong."
Max turned away from him and averted her eyes. Staying strong is easier said than done. After everything that had happened she felt tired, exhausted and drained. Was this a fight she still hoped to win? Max sank back into the passenger seat and let her shoulders slump in defeat. She allowed her walls to come down, revealing her vulnerability and anxiety for Mark to bare witness to.
"I-I don't think I can..." She stammered in an unsure, quiet voice and felt the tears welling in her eyes.
Mark placed his hands on her cheeks and forced her to look into his brown eyes as he assured her. "Yes, you can, Max. Trust me, it'll be okay. You know I'm always with you. You're not alone in this."
His large, warm hands on her skin made her feel secure. The gesture alone was so intimate that Max had the impression for a moment that time seemed to stand still. Max felt like a lost and scared soul recently and only Mark was able to shelter her from all her problems which plagued her mind. It was clear that her chances to accuse Nathan were still very slim and she was slowly running out of options.
Not understanding how Mark intended to help her she frowned, asking him. "But how? There's nothing we can do."
His hands slid from her cheeks to her shoulders, holding her steady and telling her in a relaxed tone. "Let me be the one to worry about that, okay? I'll look into this matter and I will help you as much as I can. And you'll promise me to get some rest. No more bicycle riding in the rain today. Promise me that, Max."
Mark's face was close to her own now, his lips forming a warm smile. It was a smile that radiated warmth and gave her hope.
Max couldn't help but stare at him, remembering that familiar feel of being in his arms. That intimate feeling to be safe and protected in his tight embrace. If there was anyone at Blackwell who could really help her and sort out this mess for her, it was Mark Jefferson. Her teacher was the only one she could trust and rely on here. It didn't really get her anywhere to attempt doing this on her own. This time she would seek his support.
Max smiled tiredly in return, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Yes, yes, alright. I hereby promise I'll leave my road racer alone and head straight for my bed. Happy now?"
Mark's face lit up and his hands moved down her shoulders, sliding down to her arms until he held her hands in his. His thumbs brushed tenderly over her smooth skin as he promised her. "Thank you, Max. You'll see, tomorrow will be a new day, a better day."
Max furrowed her brows, wondering what he was hinting at and if he knew something she wasn't aware of, asking him. "How do you know it'll become better?"
A mysterious smirk appeared on his lips and he held her gaze in an irresistible grip with his own brown eyes. "Trust me. It's something I know."
Max was unable to look away from those eyes. Immediate heat flushed her cheeks and her pulse quickened as she felt her own blood rush through her veins. This was what Mark Jefferson did do her just by looking at her like this.
As if reading her thoughts he continued to watch her, mustering her with an amused expression on his face. His eyes were slowly wandering over her body, knowing without a doubt how that look made her feel.
Max became extremely nervous and swallowed hard. The sudden image of kissing Mark Jefferson in front of his car emerged in her inner mind's eye. She recalled everything. That one single moment when her lips touched his. In that one particular moment the contact had been like electricity, like a spark igniting something deep within her. She also remembered the ticklish sensation as his goatee scratched over the sensitive skin around her mouth. Or she recollected the scent of his sandalwood cologne invading her nose or the sound of pattering rain in her ears. The memory was so vivid in her mind as if it had just happened a few minutes ago.
'Okay, there's no going back now, Super Max. You kissed Mark Jefferson. Your photography teacher. We could both get into major trouble if this goes on like that. Mark could even lose his job. But... wowsers, I know it's wrong and no one will understand this but still... that kiss felt so good. Even if I had the power to travel back in time, I wouldn't change a single thing.' Max thought, knowing that she didn't really have any control over her own emotions. Her heart overrode her mind and she had just kissed him without bearing the implications in mind.
"Are you okay, Max? You look a bit pale. I hope you're not becoming sick." Mark inquired, worry audible in his voice.
"I'm okay. It's just that I...", Max murmured and paused, as if she needed to gather all her courage to say it out loud, "I-I kissed you back there." Now she had finally let the cat out of the bag, staring down at her sweating hands, noticing that her fingers were still interlaced with his.
Mark chuckled lightly, amusement coloring his tone. "Yes indeed, you did. And I've returned the favor and kissed you too, haven't I?"
"But... you're my teacher, and I am..." Max mumbled and Mark added, "You're my student. I know, Max."
He leaned in closer and tilted her face up with his right hand so that he could stare directly into her beautiful blue eyes. "I told you that I'm drawn to you. I know it's inappropriate but I can't change the way I feel about you."
Max felt her heart flutter the moment she heard his words and breathed in return. "I also can't change my feelings. Honestly, I've never felt anything like this before. And it kinda scares me."
"Don't be scared, Max. Believe me, I know how you feel. It's terrifying, isn't it? To share this intimacy and to see the lines between us blurring. It must be confusing for you right now and I know all these feelings can be quite overwhelming. Especially if you experience them for the first time. Don't worry. There's really no need to rush things. I won't coerce you or do anything you don't want. Let's take our time and figure this out together, okay?" Mark whispered softly and his face was so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath ghosting over her skin again, sending a shiver down her spine.
This physical closeness caused her whole body to tense up and she became incredibly flustered.
'You've been together with him all the time, Max. Damn it, it's ridiculous. Why am I still so nervous around him?' Max asked herself in her thoughts.
As her eyes met his, a burning question gnawed at her mind. 'I don't understand this. Why is Mark still single? He's charming and very attractive and he could be with every woman he desired. Why is a man like him even interested in a loser like me? I'm nothing special and he could be together with someone else... someone better... someone like Victoria Chase.' Her damn inferiority complex raised all her doubts again, making her feel small and insignificant.
"I have this feeling you know everything about me while I know practically nothing about you, Mark. I always wondered, why isn't there a Mrs. Jefferson in your life?" The question left her lips so quickly that her blunt way of asking embarrassed her a little, seeing Mark raising an eyebrow.
'Way to go, Sherlock. Why am I always so goddamn curious?' She admonished herself, instinctively biting her lower lip.
Max stammered. "I-I'm so sorry for being so straightforward. That's not..."
A chuckle escaped his lips and he held up a hand. "It's okay, Max. Actually, my friends often ask me the same question too."
He looked away for a long moment to gaze out of the front window, his voice very thoughtful as he responded. "I must confess I'm a terrible workaholic and photography always comes first and also consumes a lot of my time. Sadly, most women can't understand my obsession with my work or maybe, they don't want to comprehend it. It's hard to say. Either way, I've met many in my life who only saw the fame behind my big name without ever looking at the real me, the real Mark Jefferson. I was always trying to find a kindred spirit in my line of work but unfortunately the photography world is a contrived place full of liars and bootlickers. It's a cruel business that often lacks honesty which makes it difficult to search for a like-minded partner."
Mark fixed her with his eyes again. "Trust me, Max, I would love to have someone by my side but the opportunity never presented itself up to now."
Max gulped and didn't miss his subtle cue in his words, murmuring. "I-I see."
"But enough about me. I also have a question for you too."
"Uh, me?" Max blinked nervously.
He rubbed his beard and looked at her in an unfamiliar way. "I sometimes see you hanging out with your classmate. I believe his name is Warren. Warren Graham, right?"
Max nodded. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Is he your boyfriend?" Mark wanted to know.
"My... boyfriend? Oh, no. We're just friends, that's all." Max made clear, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"He's not..." Mark repeated, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. He seemed to relax in his seat and went on, "Are you sure, Max? I've seen the way he looks at you. It's fairly obvious that this boy is in love with you."
Max couldn't believe that she was having this kind of conversation with him right now and she stammered in return. "I-I know he's interested in me but I-I only see him as a good friend. That's all."
His expression softened as he told her. "You should tell him that, Max. He needs to know."
"I-I will. I'm just waiting for the right moment." Max assured him although she knew deep down it wasn't so easy. She didn't want to hurt anyone. That was also the reason why she still hadn't contacted Chloe yet, fearing how her best friend might react.
"Max, don't wait too long. It'll only be more painful if you leave him in uncertainty like that."
Max nodded, not able to say another word. To have this conversation with Mark was awkward and she didn't like to be pushed to do something she was delaying for as long as possible.
Her teacher chose to change the topic to draw her mind to other things as he asked her. "Come on, let's get your road racer out of my trunk. You're probably very tired and I don't want to keep you from getting some much needed sleep any longer."
They got out of the car and he took out her bike very carefully. "Do you want me to escort you to your dormitory?" Mark asked while he helped her take off his black suit jacket, throwing it over his shoulder in a casual manner.
Max shook her head and declined firmly. "It's okay, I'll be fine."
She then spotted the small plaster in the crook of her elbow and had this uneasy feeling again, pointing her finger at the spot and murmuring. "I-I don't know if Nathan did this too."
"Ah, that was actually me. You were unconscious and I was worried that you had a circulatory collapse yesterday. So I've injected medicine to stabilize your condition." He explained in an apologetic tone.
"Oh, okay." Max blinked a few seconds, wondering for a short moment how Mark could get his hands on such a particular medicine but she felt too tired to give it much thought now.
Mark's eyes flickered to her lips briefly and he noted in a thoughtful tone. "Nothing would please me more than to kiss your lips again, Max. Unfortunately, this school has its eyes everywhere and we have to be careful here. Especially Mr. Madsen is striving to become Blackwell's newest paparazzo. Though I have to say his work lacks the beauty and elegance of a true photographer."
Max laughed nervously. "Surveillance photography isn't meant to have any artistic value, Mark."
Mark leaned forward slightly and brushed some loose strands of brown hair behind her ear with his index finger, saying. "You're right, Max. But you know me. I always seek to find gifted photographers and it's fairly obvious that Mr. Madsen doesn't belong to our illustrious circle. Needless to say I'm also not a fan of his work. Anyway, I really should be going now. See you tomorrow and do get some rest this time, okay?"
Max rolled her eyes at that, thinking that he worried way too much. "I will. And would you please stop worrying so much about me. I'm okay, really."
Mark smirked, "Please forgive me, Max. I know it must be annoying if an old man like me keeps asking you if you're alright and all that." and gave her a wink now, "Oh, and before I forget, just another quick reminder. If there's anything you need, you have my number."
A grin appeared on her face and she saw him smiling in return. It was an infectious smile. A smile that filled her with warmth and gave her a sense of familiarity. As if they shared a special bond and were able to understand one another like no one else.
Max sighed in an exaggerated manner. "Yes, yes, I know! Jeez, I swear you're worse than my dad, good night!"
"Good night, Max." There was one last lingering glance before he turned around and went back to his car. Max waited to watch him drive out of the parking lot and waved him goodbye, making her way to the bicycle parking area now and hoping that she wouldn't encounter Nathan Prescott a second time. The first time had already been bad enough in her eyes.
Bright shades of morning light and the sound of loud giggles disturbed his peaceful sleep. Nathan groaned and shielded his eyes from the sun, being perplexed to find himself lying on Victoria's expensive danish designer bed.
'What the fuck!' He couldn't remember how he ended up here. His memory was more than just a little bit fuzzy.
After fucking Wells summoned him to his office yesterday afternoon to interrogate him about that selfie bitch Caulfield, he had hurried back to his dorm room to smoke some weed, trying to cool down again. Soon afterwards Sean called and it was just the usual bullshit. Stupid words he could recite in his sleep because they never changed.
What have you done this time, Nathan? After all I did for you, you continue to bring shame to our family name. I want you to remember that you're a member of the Prescott family. It's about time you start to act like one of us. Blah, blah, blah, you're an adult now, get your shit together, blah, blah, blah, I'm very disappointed, blah, blah, blah, fulfill your destiny, blah, blah, blah, I want you to take responsibility and so on.
That was all he could remember because he chose to turn a deaf ear to the rest of Sean's annoying jabbering. It was always the same and his fucking speeches only gave him nothing but painful headaches. Who needs that crap anyway? If he wants to feel like shit, he'd rather swallow some of Frank's colorful pills. At least his stuff gave him a nice high after a long and tiring day. Unlike Sean Prescott who only existed to get on Nathan's nerves all the time.
He could hear Vic's amused laughter. "Oh, look, ladies. Prince Charming finally woke up from his deep slumber to grace us with his presence."
There was this irritating girly laughter again and it hurt his ears. Nathan clutched the side of his head and glared at Victoria's two dumb sidekicks, snapping at them in a loud voice. "Shut your damn mouths! Fuck, if I want to listen to high-pitched giggles I visit chimpanzees in a fucking zoo. Go away, I don't need that shit right now!"
Courtney and Taylor seemed offended by his sudden outburst and didn't dare to utter another word or even look in his direction.
Victoria sighed. "It seems someone didn't get enough sleep here. Well, whatever. We'll discuss our Vortex club preparations another time, okay, girls? And don't forget to take care of the decoration stuff. We don't want to lose against Dana's Halloween party. Right?"
Courtney nodded, taking her pen and quickly scribbling in her notebook, explaining in a busy tone. "I'll handle the guest list and Taylor thinks about our decoration."
Nathan watched Victoria sending her two minions out of her room, shouting after them. "Move your asses and don't forget my essay for Mr. Jefferson's class!"
She shut the door behind her and took a seat at her desk, complaining loudly. "I tell you, these bitches are a pain in the ass. I always have to remind them what they need to do. Maybe their tiny brains are working too slow to comprehend what I say. Who knows?"
Nathan grinned and replied. "It's a shame you can't clone yourself, am I right, Vic? Sometimes it's better if we do things on our own instead of letting those idiots get in our way."
Victoria rolled her eyes and started to paint her fingernails while occasionally turning the pages of a french fashion magazine, sneering. "Yeah, look at me. I always have to do with these two sluts. But oh well, my parents urged me to be friends with Courtney and Tay and I'm just too nice for this world."
Nathan grabbed a water bottle from her nightstand and took a huge swig. After rubbing his wet lips with the sleeve of his red cardigan he agreed. "Yes, you are, Vic. You're way too nice."
She looked up from her magazine to examine her new red nail color and added. "See? I told you, that's my fucking problem."
Nathan knew that Vic just pretended to act so tough and strong in front of everyone. Deep down she hid her insecurity and fragility to survive in this business. Vic knew how brutal the art world could be and that it took a thick skin to go out there and make a name for yourself, pushing your competition out of the way at the same time.
Victoria eyed him carefully now, her expression worried. "I guess you had a bad day yesterday. You looked awful, Josh."
"Stop calling me Josh! You know I hate that name!" Nathan barked at her and took a deep calming breath, his shaky fingers fishing a cigarette out of his jacket inside pocket.
"Hey, it's okay. Calm down! Jeez, did you forget to take your meds or what?" Victoria asked him and offered him her lighter. A fancy, little toy, looking like a small pink stiletto.
'What a geek.' Nathan thought and couldn't help but grin at that. Vicky was really something else. The only queen in his life who was allowed to stand at his side. Prescott and Chase. The king and queen of Blackwell Academy.
But his fears returned when a sudden image of Vic's unconscious body lying in the dark room flashed in his mind and he tried desperately to get it out of his head.
Nathan couldn't imagine to frame her in that sterile, white room. Or imagining himself sliding a needle into her delicate neck. Such sick stuff should never happen to her. Not his Vic. His one and only best friend at this goddamn school. A friend who was so close and dear to him like his own sister Kris. That unbidden image reminded him why he had been in a stinky mood in the first place. It was all Mark's fault. He wanted Vic's pictures for his fucking red binder.
"I didn't forget my meds. I just had one of those shitty days, you know." Nathan murmured and opened a window, smoking his cigarette and feeling a little less agitated now.
"There are rumors going around here. What kind of shit did you do this time? Did you get in trouble again?" Victoria wanted to know, cocking her eyebrow.
Nathan was confused. "Wait, rumors? What kind of rumors?"
"They say you hurt that waif hipster bitch." Vic informed him, shrugging her shoulders in an uncaring manner. "You know how much I hate her, so I can't really say she didn't deserve whatever happened to her."
"Who's spreading that rumor?" He inquired, impatience in his voice, already being very tense and nervous.
"Oh, it's Caulfield's little nerd pet. Warren Gayham." Victoria replied, leaning back in her chair and closing the lid of her nail polish.
"Fuck! I'll kill that bastard!" Nathan screamed and clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Everything was spiraling out of control and those fucking rumors were the last thing he needed right now.
Victoria seemed curious, questioning him. "Is he... is Graham telling the truth?"
"Heck, I just pulled a prank on her and kinda hit her on the head. It was nothing serious." Nathan lied and took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke very slowly. Everything was fine in his eyes. Jefferson's groupie didn't die and nothing really happened. Why did she make a fuss about it and went straight to Wells? That damn hoe should have just kept her fucking mouth shut.
Vic watched him in silence for a moment and a grin appeared on her face. "Well, that dumb wannabe hipster only got what she deserved, right?"
"Right. Let's talk about something else. I've had enough of that whore. Thanks to her I had to show up at the Principal's office and had to listen to another one of Sean's fucking rants." Nathan huffed and put out his cigarette.
"That explains why you looked like shit yesterday. Anyway, what do you wanna talk about? The Everyday Heroes contest?" Vic suggested, giving him a wide smile.
Nathan shook his head and gave her an angry look. "Oh, I don't give a single fuck about that damn contest anymore. I still haven't decided if I want to submit my entry or burn it."
"I was actually the first student who submitted a photograph. Mr. Jefferson was very pleased and highly praised my work. I don't want to brag here but I'm sure he'll choose my shot. And then it's just Mark and me having a great time in SF. Can you believe it? Me together with Mark Jefferson? My idol? It's like a dream coming true. I'm so excited, Nate. I can't wait till he announces me as the contest's winner." Vic told him, her voice sounding giddy, clearly showing her excitement.
Nathan grimaced instantly the second Victoria mentioned Jefferson's name. The name of the teacher who wanted to frame his best friend in their dark room just to punish his protégé. It hurt him so much that he was unable to make eye contact, mumbling absent-mindedly. "No one works so hard as you, Vic. I'm sure you'll win this with ease."
Vic beamed at him. "Of course I'll win this with ease. If anyone else wins this, it would be a disaster. My parents would surely kill me. You know them."
"Yeah, I remember. At least they're not as annoying as my old man." Nathan pointed out and rubbed his head.
There was worry on Vic's face again as she stood up, looking down at him and staring at his shaking hands. "You scared the shit outta me yesterday. You should have seen yourself, Nate. You were so confused and only babbled nonsense. Are you really okay now? Maybe it would be better if you call in sick today."
"Bullshit! I'm fine!" He forced himself to smile, assuring her. "See? Everything's cool."
That didn't seem to ease her worries at all and she asked. "By the way, how was your session with your psychiatrist? What was his name again? Dr. Jacoby? You said he's helping you a lot."
Just hearing his psychiatrist's fucking name made him angry again and he retorted. "I don't wanna talk about my doc. Would you please mind your own business, Vic? I know you mean well. Everybody does. But you can't help me. Nobody can!"
"Look, I'm sorry, Nate. I didn't want to..." She tried to apologize but Nathan's mood had already reached another low point. He stood up from her bed and interrupted her. "Thanks for letting me stay here overnight. I gotta go now."
His hand reached out to turn the door knob and Nathan suddenly paused in his movement, remembering a question he wanted to ask her. Depending on her answer he would decide his next course of action.
The young student turned his head and studied her. "Hey Vic, have you ever considered standing at the other side of the lens? As a... model?"
Victoria snorted and looked insulted. "Me? A model? Are you kiddin' me? Do I look like Rachel fucking Amber? I'm a photographer. Modeling and posing in front a camera doesn't interest me one single bit. I thought you know that."
Rachel Amber. That name would haunt him for the rest of his miserable life. The image of her pale, lifeless body lying in a dirty pit of Arcadia Bay's junkyard was engraved in his memory forever. He would never forget her. No, he couldn't forget her even if he wanted to. Drugs, meds, alcohol. He tried everything but nothing could suppress those excruciating memories. His memories were like air bubbles under water, they were always coming back to the surface.
Rachel also paid him visits in his nightmares. No, it was actually worse. She would always pursue him in his dreams. A shuffling, decaying corpse and her head only a skull with black worms crawling out of her eye sockets. It was a dreadful sight which sickened him and made his blood run cold. And waking up from these nightmares gave him no release. Nathan would shot up in his bed with fear in his blue eyes, bathing in his own sweat. His dreams would always remind him of the fact that it had been him who killed her. And that it was his punishment to go through this hell. Again and again.
Nathan smiled weakly. "Never mind. I was just curious, that's all."
Victoria raised an eyebrow, probably wondering why he asked that question. Yet, she chose not to broach that subject again and crossed her arms, saying. "Yeah, whatever. See you in class."
Nathan only nodded in return and left her room. For a moment he just stood there like a motionless statue, staring at the dorm's exit door and his eyes sliding out of focus. His hand instinctively moved to his jacket pocket and touched the familiar cold metal of his gun.
'You're okay, bro. You're sober today. You can do it, Nathan. You know how to use a gun. No big deal.' Nathan assured himself in his thoughts, knowing this was his last resort. He couldn't allow himself to make another mistake and fuck up again. Because this time another misstep might surely cost him his life. Not that the prospect of death scared him. On the contrary, there were often times where he thought that it might be a salvation. A way to leave this terrible place and to escape from the nightmares which haunted his mind.
'No, bro. Don't even think about it. You've got folks who try to be there for you. Like Kris and Victoria. Now is not the time to give up. No, it's about fucking time to fight back.'
It was finally lunch break and Nathan had to pull a few tricks just to get here in time. The second he entered the campus that fascist fuck David Madsen had been close on his heels the whole time, following him like some weird, pushy stalker. Nathan had cursed under his breath and took a few shortcuts here and there but he couldn't shake off his pursuer. His last hope were his buddies Hayden and Logan. They used a diversionary tactic and blocked Madsen's path so that Nathan could slip away from him. Running around the school grounds like a complete idiot had been such a hassle that it made him feel very irritated. For a second he even considered to scrub the whole thing yet he knew that he couldn't. It was all for Vic. Nathan was on a mission now and nothing would stop him.
When he arrived at the photography classroom it was already empty and deserted. The only person left here was Blackwell's famous art teacher, Mark Jefferson. Nathan Prescott stood at the doorway for a long second, dark blue eyes observing his mentor. Mark seemed busy reading essays at his desk and Nathan wondered if the man had noticed his presence at all.
"Nathan." Mark's deep voice immediately startled him and he cautiously entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
Nathan tried his best to remain calm although he was feeling like a fucking mess inside. He took a careful step towards Mark, suggesting. "I thought this might be a good time to talk about... Vic."
"Of course. Have a seat." Mark gestured with his hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk and took a sip from his coffee mug, his intent eyes fixed on his former favorite student.
His face was an unreadable mask and Nathan was glad that he hid his trembling hands inside his jeans pockets. He didn't want Jefferson to see his nervousness. He approached a desk in the middle of the room and hopped on it, letting his legs casually dangle off the table's edge.
"I'm glad you're here, Nate. I was hoping you'd come today." Mark said, giving him that fatherly, gentle smile but Nathan knew it was fake. His teacher didn't care about him anymore. Max Caulfield was his fave now. Compared to her Nathan had lost everything. Mark's attention, his kindness, his praise and most importantly his substitute father. Everything was gone. Soon Mark would dispose of him as well and bury his dead body next to Rachel's rotting corpse. That would be a cruel irony in his eyes. The murderer lying next to his victim.
Nathan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Maybe he could avoid any bloodshed if Mark would listen to his plea. He decided it was worth a try to settle this matter peacefully. Nathan clenched his fists inside his pockets and bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep his voice steady as he asked him. "Can you... you know, rethink your decision to frame Vic? She's not the model you wanted to capture, it's Kate. Wouldn't it be a waste of your precious time to take Victoria instead?"
Mark just stared at him in silence and Nathan gulped, continuing to convince him. "Look, I don't want Vic as our model and you don't want her either. It's like working on a job we both hate. Why should we do something we don't even care about?"
"Because this is your punishment, Nate. It doesn't matter to me if this upcoming session won't produce great results. That's not important here. And don't worry. I haven't forgotten our dear Kate Marsh. She'll become one of my models. Sooner or later." Mark explained matter-of-factly, adjusting his glasses.
"Then you leave me no other choice, man!" All of a sudden Nathan jumped off the table and pulled out his gun in one quick motion, pointing it straight at Mark's chest.
To his surprise Mark seemed unfazed by his unexpected action and chose to remain seated. Nathan only detected a strange glint in his brown eyes, betraying his obvious displeasure but other than that there was no emotion.
This was the face of the true Mark Jefferson. The facial expression of a cold and calculating man. The one that gave him the chills and frightened him like nothing else, causing his whole body to feel numb and crawling with ants at the same time.
"You never seem to learn from your mistakes, don't you, Nate?" Mark's voice was dangerously low and devoid of any warmth. He probably knew it was pointless to put up any false pretenses here.
'Don't panic, Nathan. You got this! You have a weapon and you're in charge here. He has to listen to your demands or you shoot him. It's as simple as that.' Nathan thought and clutched the gun in a firm grip.
"Do you really intend to kill me? Me? Your partner? The only one who actually cares about you in this fucking town?" Mark asked and stood up from his chair, dark eyes focusing on his student like a predator, his body taut and ready to strike at any moment.
The air was very thick with tension now. It became a battle of wills, each man was relentlessly attempting to stare the other one down.
"You don't really care about me, Mark. If you did you would have never chosen someone else as your private student." Nathan accused him through gritted teeth, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.
Mark let out a tiny chuckle. "Ah, there it is again. Jealousy. Do you really think the world only revolves around you just because you're the only son of the rich and mighty Sean Prescott? I'd advise you to wake up from your delusions and stop this childish behavior. Don't forget that it was you who brought us to this point. Your jealousy killed Rachel and it almost killed Max as well."
"Jeez, it was a fucking accident! I didn't want to kill her!" Nathan cried, the gun in his hands shaking now. This sign of weakness didn't escape Mark's attentive eyes. The boy began to crumble in front of him. That was the chance he had been waiting for to take action and he took a purposeful step towards his direction.
But just as he circled around his desk, he stopped in his tracks as Nathan warned him in a shrill voice. "Don't come any closer or I swear I'll shoot!"
His mentor held up his hands in a defensive manner and tried to soothe him. "It's okay, Nate. See? I'm staying right here."
While Nathan was a tide of conflicting emotions, fighting the urge to unleash his anger at any given moment and attempting to hold his fears at bay at the same time, Mark just stood there as if being threatened by a gun left him completely unperturbed.
His calm gaze was focused on his student and he spoke with a mild voice. "I must say I'm impressed that you'd go to such lengths to protect Ms. Chase. Is she that important to you? Or are you actually in love with her, Nate?"
"Bullshit!" Nathan spat, seemingly irritated and asked him in return, "Do you think I'm some pervert who would fuck his own sister?"
Mark let out a soft chuckle, correcting him. "Victoria Chase isn't your sister, Nate."
"Vic's like family to me and she doesn't treat me like a freak. That's all that matters to me." Nathan explained and hoped that Mark would stop asking any further questions about his best friend. It angered him somehow and made his blood boil, thinking to himself that Mark was only playing his stupid games with him, trying to get under his skin.
Jefferson removed his thick rimmed glasses for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose before returning his attention to his protégé, admitting to him. "It seems I've underestimated you, son. I truly admire your resolve and that's why I'm willing to make an exception regarding your friend."
His sudden change of mind made Nathan very suspicious. The boy felt his fucking anxiety rise to new levels and he ground his teeth instinctively, asking in a guarded tone. "Are you serious or is this just one of your fucking tricks?"
Mark gave him that enigmatic smile and promised. "I can assure you I'm serious about that. And I have no reason to lie to you, do I?"
"Fuck you, Jeff! What's that exception you've mentioned, huh?" Nathan wanted to know, not letting his guard down for one single second in front of this dangerous man. Mark probably forgot that two can play this game.
"Since Miss Chase is a model you refuse to capture, I'd grant you the possibility to choose another woman who would take her place. But I'll only accept your choice under the sole condition that she's not a student of Blackwell Academy. I add this condition because I don't want to make this task too easy for you. Do you understand?" Mark smirked as if he had already won his little game yet the boy saw this as his chance to save Vicky.
Nathan lowered his gun and glared at him, certainty in his voice. "I'll find someone, you'll see."
He already had someone in mind. It was Rachel's annoying punk ass friend but he couldn't recall her name. Was it Prince? Or Price? What the fuck ever! It didn't matter. That bitch should suffice as Vic's surrogate.
"Just make sure this person matches our special criteria, okay?" Mark remarked with a pretentious smile and he took note of Nathan slowly relaxing in his presence.
'It's over.' Nathan thought and allowed himself to loosen his tense posture, not quite believing that it all went so smoothly in the end.
But letting his guard down proved to be a terrible mistake because Mark seized this moment to strike. It happened from one second to the other. Nathan wasn't prepared for his quickness. His teacher's swift movement was one fluid motion as he leaped at him. Everything happened so fast that it caught him completely off guard. There had been no time to react or to point his gun at Jefferson again.
Mark took the weapon away from him without any resistance and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, slamming him down against the nearest desk. The impact was so powerful that he cracked his head.
Nathan's head was pounding fiercely and he felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, blinking frantically because he only saw white dots dancing in his vision for a moment. The sheer impact had made him so dizzy that he struggled to orientate himself. As he felt the warm breath of the older man on his skin, he flinched beneath him and tried to break free. But it was just a reflexive reaction that didn't get him anywhere.
A hand clenched around his throat and held him down while he felt the cold muzzle of his own gun pressing against his temple now.
Nathan slowly realized that he had held his breath for a while, his mind too dazed to formulate a single thought. His fear rendered him numb and speechless. The boy could only listen to the racing pulse of his own heart. He was in the eye of the storm, in the calm center of the hurricane as his teacher watched him with a terrible, blank expression.
The heavy silence between them continued for a few, seemingly endless seconds before his ears picked up Mark's smooth voice. It cut like a cool breeze of air through the black smoke swirling inside Nathan's mind. "Oh Christ... look at your face. That fear in your eyes. Such a pure and raw expression... Fascinating."
"P-Please..." Nathan let out a shuddering sob, his teary eyes staring up and meeting Mark's brown eyes. His mind was a muddled mess of broken thoughts now, his nerves flaring up in sensitivity as he laid there defenseless, anticipating his own death.
Mark towered over his stiff body, a strange glimmer flickered in his eyes as he stared down at him, stating in a cold, dispassionate tone. "You've caused me nothing but trouble lately, Nate. It's such a shame, really. You possessed so much untapped potential. You were a rare talent only waiting for me to guide you to greatness yet you've chosen to let it all go to waste. Tell me, why should I keep you as my protégé? How does your cooperation still benefit me, hmm?"
Nathan returned his gaze, his facial expression showing a mixture of confusion, despair and pain. Cold sweat pearls were running down his skin, the metal of the gun touching his temple making him feel very anxious. He stammered with a panic-stricken face. "Y-You still need me. I-I'm the one buying our drugs and I-I'm also the one who drugs your f-fucking s-subjects and brings them to the d-dark room."
His teacher's expression was stern but his voice seemed thoughtful as he informed him. "I actually found someone else who can buy the chemicals we need. But you're right. You've done a good job so far regarding the acquisition of our models."
Mark lowered his eyes as if he was reflecting upon the whole new situation, admitting in an almost sad tone. "It's partly my fault that it had come to this. I've been neglecting you, Nate, and that wasn't cool."
Nathan wasn't sure if he had heard him right. Was his mind playing tricks on him or was Mark really apologizing to him? His head hurt like hell and he couldn't think clearly anymore. The fucking pain was overwhelming all his senses.
He squirmed under his strong grip and whimpered weakly. "I-I don't understand... W-What do you mean by that?"
Mark sighed and withdrew the gun from his temple. "It means that I'm giving you one last chance. I know I've made mistakes and I want to make it up to you."
He helped Nathan to get up from the desk and pulled him to his feet, gazing at him with his hooded eyes. "If you accept my offer to start from scratch again, I'll resume our private tutoring lessons. But this can only work if you promise me to stop fucking everything up. That means no flying solo anymore and you'll fucking listen to what I have to say! We're partners, a team. We have to work together and not against each other. Do you understand?"
Nathan was still shaking uncontrollably and had problems to stay still. He would have to take his meds soon to calm his fucking anxiety. Mark's sudden change of heart confused him and he didn't know what to make of it yet.
Still, it was his last chance to have everything back the way it was before. It was what he always wanted. Mark Jefferson. To have him back in his life and to feel that rush again. An addictive rush only Mark could give him. He was the father he needed. The father Sean could never be. Mark was his anchor. He was the only person in this godforsaken world who could keep his growing insanity at bay.
Nathan was also aware that it could be a trap but he didn't care. His dark blue eyes watched his mentor cautiously and he nodded slightly, his shaky voice sounding submissive, knowing without a doubt how much this would please his teacher. "I understand, Mark. I know I've been acting rash and foolish and I swear, it won't happen again."
Mark's fingers caressed the back of his head, his lips forming that familiar smile that could bring Nathan's heart to its knees, humming. "Very good, Nate. Let's meet up at my house later and we'll have a drink together. It'll be just like the old times. Cool?"
Nathan blushed and was already looking forward to have Mark all to himself again. "Yeah, cool."
Strange feelings overcame Nathan as he sat on Mark's leather designer couch in his living room. Quiet, slow jazz music played in the background. It was Jacqui Dankworth. Nathan recognized her beautiful, soft singing voice immediately. His gaze wandered to the large windows, watching how the autumn sun bathed the entire room in warm, yellow light. It was as if all the recent events related to the Caulfield bitch had never happened. They were simply gone and almost forgotten like a bad nightmare or a fleeting memory.
To his surprise Mark also didn't mention Caulfield's name. It seemed he was purposefully avoiding this delicate topic, preventing to cause any more unnecessary stress to his student. Everything was too good to be true right now and the boy thought there had to be a catch somewhere.
Nathan straightened in his seat when he noticed Mark's return from the kitchen, he was sauntering to the couch with two glasses in his hands. An irish beer for his student and whiskey for himself. This was exactly what Nathan loved so much about him. Unlike Sean Mark Jefferson treated him like an adult, an equal. They could chat about everything and Mark would always listen and give him advice.
The older man took a seat right next to him and was so close that their shoulders were nearly touching one another. Nathan swallowed hard and needed a moment to compose himself. The mere sight of Mark Jefferson took his breath away. He looked impeccable and perfect as always. A young god dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Mark handed him his cold glass, an amused smile playing on his lips. "What happened, Nate? Has the cat got your tongue?"
Nathan cleared his throat and quickly looked away, chugging down his beer until his glass was completely empty and murmured. "I-It's nothing."
Mark laughed lightly and poured more beer into his glass, "I'm sorry, Nate. I didn't mean to startle you." and took a sip from his whiskey now. He leaned back on the couch in a casual manner and seemed content, enjoying his drink and the company of his protégé next to him.
"So, um, what will happen to Vic's binder? Will you discard it?" Nathan inquired, hoping it wasn't too early to ask that question.
"I won't need it anymore. But it also depends on you. You have to find a suitable substitute and I can imagine it won't be easy." Mark stated in a conversational tone.
"Actually, I have someone in mind." Nathan told him, feeling proud of himself that he would be able to fulfill this task so easily.
Mark quirked an eyebrow and took another sip of his drink, asking. "Oh, really? I'm curious who this mysterious model of yours is."
Nathan grinned and chose to keep quiet about it, not wanting to reveal any more details than necessary.
All of a sudden he started to feel very dizzy and he wondered if he was suffering from the effects of the alcohol. But that was impossible. He didn't drink that much to get wasted like that.
"I'm feeling kinda... strange." Nathan slurred and tried his best to concentrate and to keep his eyes open. It would be embarrassing if he'd fall asleep on Mark's couch now.
Mark glanced down at his wristwatch and commented in a calm tone. "This is actually the first time I've put a drug in a drink, Nate. I have to say, this method isn't really my style. I always prefer to administer a direct dose because it's much more effective."
"What? I-I don't understand..." Nathan blinked, his vision wavered, crossing the line of blacking out before it slowly came back, being fuzzy around the edges. His whole body was swaying back and forth on the couch and he felt like a seasick man stuck on a rocking boat.
"I think you understand me quite well. Though it doesn't really matter now, does it? I've made sure that this dose is more than enough to severely compromise your memory. Don't worry, Nate. I promise you won't remember any of this." Mark assured him in an absolutely calm voice.
"You... fucking... liar!" Nathan managed to utter, his vision wavered and his own heart hammered so loudly in his chest he thought Mark might hear it. He knew he was very close to passing out. The drug left him little strength to get away from him.
Mark gave him a cruel smile and whispered almost intimately. "Oh, you got that wrong. You see, I didn't lie to you. When I offered you the chance to find a substitute model for Ms. Chase, I had actually chosen you, Nate."
"What the..." Nathan muttered, his eyelids becoming so heavy that he couldn't keep them open any longer. The black abyss of unconsciousness swallowed him whole, black arms wrapping around him to pull him into the darkness. His limp body fell back on the couch and Mark moved his arm around his protégé's shoulders at just the right time, catching him and setting him down very carefully.
'You're not really my first choice, Nate. A tainted soul like you is a dime a dozen out there and it doesn't match my ideal image of purity and innocence at all. But still, you will serve your purpose. Soon." Mark thought, smiling to himself and savoring one last swig from his exquisite whiskey.
After receiving an unexpected text message from Mark asking her to meet him tonight, Max had spontaneously taken her road racer to ride to his house as fast as she could.
-Hi Max. I'd like to make good on my promise. Let's meet at my place. I have a surprise for you. Mark.-
That was all he had written and Max had racked her brain to figure out what this surprise could be. She couldn't wait to see him, knowing that he would do anything to comfort her, to make her feel better. Her worries about Nathan still consumed her thoughts most of the time and attending school today didn't really help to get her mind on to other things.
And what could offer a better distraction than a visit at Mark Jefferson's home? This man evoked strong, intense feelings in her. He had an irresistible appeal and Max just couldn't get enough of him. Yes, she knew she was playing with fire here. But she didn't care.
'I'm an adult now. I know what I'm doing.' Max thought.
When Max approached his door she took her cellphone out of her bag to check the current time. It was already 8pm.
'Wow, it's late. I hope no one notices my absence or I'll surely get into trouble.' She quickly pushed her worries to the back of her mind and rang the door bell. Mark appeared at the entrance and greeted her with an affectionate hug and a kiss on her cheek.
"Hey Max. I'm sorry for asking you to come here on such short notice. Please, come.", he took her hand and guided her inside, "I have something to show you."
Max noticed that they were on their way to his photography studio in the cellar. As they went down the narrow steps Mark suddenly covered her eyes with his large hand.
"Hey! What the heck! I can't see anything!" Max complained, using one of her hands to instinctively grab the wooden hand rail while the other held Mark's hand tightly.
The sound of his soft voice was close to her ear as he calmed her. "Don't worry. I got you. Just be careful walking down these steps, okay?"
"What have you hidden down there? A new expensive camera?" Max asked and giggled nervously, hoping he didn't want to do that photo session now. She still thought that she wasn't ready for such an intimate session.
"Trust me. It's something much better." He assured her and they entered the photo studio area where he escorted her to the back of the room.
'Oh my gosh! He really wants to do that photo session!' It shot through her head and she felt the heat inside her body rise immediately.
When they finally stopped, Max held her breath in anticipation, not really knowing what awaited her here. A startled gasp escaped her lips as he took his hand away from her eyes and she recognized the subject of her worst fears lying on a glaringly white floor in front of a white backdrop, just a few meters away from her. It was Nathan Prescott who was apparently sleeping off his intoxication. That wasn't such an unusual sight. Most Blackwell students looked wasted like that after a party. Nevertheless it seemed quite strange that Prescott was here in the first place.
"What's Nathan Prescott doing here in your studio?" She breathed, her eyes wide in shock.
Mark watched her intently, his head slightly tilted to the side as he replied calmly. "Do you remember our conversation where I told you that you should face your fears, Max?"
"Y-Yeah." Max gulped uneasily and her gaze returned back to Nathan, being unable to take her eyes off of his unconscious body. It was strange. The rich Prescott kid didn't look so frightening anymore in this helpless state.
'How should I face my fear? I don't understand. What does he want from me? This is absolutely crazy.' Max asked herself in her thoughts.
A mysterious smile played on his lips as he went on, his voice lowering. "This is it. This is the moment for you to do it."
He discerned her fear and confusion and tried to hush her. "Shh, it's okay, Max. Don't be scared. I'm with you. We'll do this together."
"Do what?" Max wanted to know, being puzzled what was going on here and what he meant by all that.
He didn't answer her question at once and approached his desk instead to fetch his favored Hasselblad H5D camera, holding it up demonstratively. "Think of it as a therapy. I've told you before that photography helped me to fight my inner demons. It can help you the same way it helped me."
Mark stood in front of her and gazed down at her, offering her his most expensive and cherished camera. His soft voice sounded tempting as he went on. "Remember what Nathan did to you. He hurt you, Max. He drugged you. We don't know when he'll receive his deserved punishment or if he ever receives it at all. But you can get some kind of closure for yourself if you conduct this session now. And you can rest assured that you do nothing wrong by taking pictures of him. You're not hurting him and you're not getting revenge. This is only a means to help yourself to get better. To find some inner peace. Nothing more and nothing less."
Max looked back at Nathan, murmuring in an unsure voice. "W-What about Nathan? Is he...? I don't know... d-did you do that to him?"
Her teacher seemed amused that she even considered the notion that he might have done this. Mark shook his head, giving her an reassuring smile and clarified. "Mr. Prescott did this to himself. He's drunk, Max. I found him lying alone on a bench in the park and I thought this might be a good opportunity for you to heal. You don't have to worry about him. He's fine. I'll bring him back to the dorms after this is over and nobody will ever know what happened here. I promise."
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment and Mark could see right through her eyes, behind her own windows to her soul. He could see her inner struggle there, the wheels of her mind turning. Max was clearly torn between her conscience and what she wanted for herself.
Mark Jefferson knew this was a crucial moment for both of them. A moment that would finally decide Max's fate. If she could have a possible future at his side or not. Would she be willing to plunge into these depths and cross the boundaries to be one step closer to him?
He leaned forward and whispered softly, suggestively. "Turn your fear into strength, Max. I know you can do it."
His intent eyes studied her, admired her from up close. Her short brown hair and the small freckles that adorned her face. The white light highlighted her features, her mesmerizing blue eyes, her cheekbones and her soft lips. She was like a living sculpture, the epitome of art and fineness.
Max narrowed her eyes now and avoided his gaze, muttering. "I-I hate myself. I hate to be weak, to be scared like this."
She raised her eyes to meet his again and he noticed a fragile confidence building inside her as she said. "I trust you, Mark. If you think this might help me, I'd like to give it at least a try."
A rush of excitement flooded his chest when Max accepted his camera, holding it in her small, delicate hands. She took a deep, calming breath and turned around to face her new model.
Although Max had chosen to perform this session, she still felt very tense. The camera was unsteady in her grip as she lifted it with her trembling hands, turning it on and making a few adjustments on the small display screen. When the young student was finished with her preparations she looked at Nathan's unconscious body through the eyepiece.
She somehow managed to snap a few shots of him but it was a difficult endeavor. Shivers shook her whole body and she could barely focus on the task at hand. Mark stepped forward so that their bodies were extremely close together. She could hear the sound of fabric rustling as he reached around her and placed his palm on her chest so that he could feel her pounding heart underneath his touch.
Mark dipped his head down, his mouth next to her ear and his warm breath caressing her skin as he whispered softly. "Calm down, Max. Relax. Breathe in and breathe out. Yes, just like that."
His voice was almost hypnotizing and Max felt herself ease up a little. Yet, her breath hitched in her throat when he suddenly sneaked his other free hand around her to place it upon her hand, aiding her to steady her grip on the camera.
Max automatically leaned back against him, seeking his support. Mark's mouth was still at her ear, his voice was close, intimate as he asked her. "Tell me, what do you see, Max?"
"Vulnerability, helplessness. A model bare in front of my camera eye." Max whispered in response and stared down at the young man who was the cause for her anxiety.
The older man's hand moved away from her heart to embrace her now, pressing her against his body now. "And what do you feel?"
Max paused for a long moment and the seconds ticked by. She was fearing to admit what she felt right now. When she found her voice again she confessed in a quiet tone. "I feel more confident, stronger... in control."
"It feels good, doesn't it?" Mark asked and held back a smile. He wanted to appear neutral but he actually felt very satisfied.
The heat from the close proximity between them was rising. Every breath and every touch burned her skin like hot fire. Max turned her head and tried to look at him. When she saw his brown eyes looking back at her, she admitted nervously. "I know this sounds crazy but yes... it feels good somehow."
Mark tilted his head ever so slightly, allowing her a better look into his eyes. Brown eyes which were watching her attentively, witnessing her transformation. He could feel his chest swell in anticipation and he was unable to hide his enthusiasm any longer. This was indeed a fascinating development and gave him a sense of accomplishment he had never felt before. He felt like an artist who was slowly falling in love with his own creation.
An appreciative smile appeared on his lips and he pulled her close until her head rested in the curve of his neck. "It's not crazy, Max." She heard him murmur above her, stroking her hair gently and speaking in a calm, soothing voice, "It's only natural to feel that way. Nathan made you feel weak and powerless. But you were able to take back the reins, to regain control and to conquer your fear. I'm very proud of you."
Max looked up again and saw something igniting in his eyes. Mark leaned forward and there was this crackling energy hanging in the air again as they stared into each other's eyes, both feeling the rising anticipation. First his nose touched the side of hers slowly before he finally pressed his lips to hers in a tentative, exploratory kiss. Mark's lips had the distinct taste of whiskey and they were wreaking a new kind of havoc on her senses. Max was lost in her own sensations as she parted her lips to accept Mark's questing tongue. His hot tongue swirled inside her mouth, exploring and relishing her taste. A quiet moan escaped her lips. This kiss was doing something to her that she never thought was possible. She forgot everything now. This crazy and twisted photo session, Nathan lying in the back of the room or the realization that she had actually felt good when she had taken pictures of Nathan. Everything didn't matter anymore.
Max only felt him, his warm breath on her skin, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the heat coming off of his body, his caressing fingers on her cheek and the hand that landed on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him.
Both became breathless but neither of them was willing to stop the kiss. Their kiss only seemed to deepen as their tongues met and began a battle for dominance. It was a battle Max could only lose due to her lack of experience but she didn't care. She enjoyed the way he completely owned her, his kiss working a mind-boggling magic on her senses.
To her surprise Mark reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. His fingers brushed possessively over her hair and his brown eyes looked so dark now, they were almost black as he asked her in a low, seductive tone. "Oh, Max. I'd love to devour you now but unfortunately we don't have much time left. We still have to take a few more shots of our male model here. Don't you agree?"
Max felt like she was frozen on the spot, looking deep into the darkness of his eyes and murmuring in a breathless voice. "Yeah, we always have to take the shot first, right?"