Life is Strange ~ Capturing your soul ~
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reading and following this story. And a special thank you goes to Xander The Prince, tur 1823 and Elise477 for reviewing this story. You guys made my day and your reviews made me really happy. :)
About this chapter: It's rated M.
Chapter 10: Chiaroscuro
It was late in the afternoon and the sun threw its warm light on half of the principal's office while the other half of the room remained shrouded in shadows. Max felt strange to be here again, to sit on that same chair as last time and to stare at the intimidating figure of Principal Wells. The tall man clearly stood out here, dressed in his light gray suit with a fitting dark red shirt. Standing behind his large leather armchair with his hands clasped behind his back, he gave a brief summary why they were all attending this meeting today. Unlike last time the small room seemed crowded now. Her teacher Mark Jefferson chose to stay close behind her chair. His mere presence was comforting, making her feel safe and less agitated.
The rich Prescott kid sat right next to her, leaning forward in his seat and his right leg bouncing up and down in a restless manner while his fingers tightly gripped the armrests. It was fairly obvious that he felt just as uncomfortable to be here as Max herself. Furthermore there were two more people attending this discussion.
One of them was the chief of Blackwell security, Mr. David Madsen and the other one was school nurse Mrs. An-Marie Barenchi. Both stood at the back of the room and were almost hidden in the shadows.
Max didn't really listen to what Wells had to say. She had this gut feeling that all this was just another farce, already suspecting that Nathan would never get any sort of punishment. It was only wishful thinking he might face a suspension or even get expelled from Blackwell Academy.
There was no doubt in her mind that Sean Prescott was the true puppet master here, pulling the strings and controlling Wells behind the scenes. And as long as the old Prescott held some power through his numerous money donations his son would never have to suffer the consequences of his actions.
It was weird but whenever she looked at Nathan now she was immediately reminded of yesterday's photo session. Much to her own surprise she felt more confident now. Under normal circumstances Max would have been anxious to be so close beside this young man. Yet she felt nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sympathy.
The photography session made her realize that Nathan was just as vulnerable, powerless and helpless as her. They weren't really all that different in that regard. This crazy experience had irreversibly changed her. Max had learned that she was also capable to instill fear in the person who had bullied and hurt her. Though her whole approach had been quite different. She had only taken photos of him in this weak condition. No one had to suffer and this had only been a means to take back the reins, to have this feeling of control and stability back in her life.
This had been her first willful step into the darkness. But she wasn't alone. Mark was always at her side. He was her beacon of light, her guide through the night. Her teacher was her lantern to keep the darkness at bay.
'Perhaps I should ask Nathan if he's okay. Or if he remembers anything.' Max thought and rubbed her head, always stealing a quick glance at Nathan and trying to focus on the principal's speech at the same time.
Principal Wells turned to her and regarded her with a strict expression on his face, pulling her attention to the here and now as he asked her. "This sums up the recent events. Now, Ms. Caulfield, please tell us, do you still wish to retain your statement or not?"
'Wells is funny, isn't he? As if I'd take back what I've told him.' Max sighed and gave him a slight nod, replying in a firm voice. "Yes, I retain my statement."
The principal frowned at her and came forward so that he could lean back against his desk now, then he leveled his gaze at Nathan Prescott. "And will you also retain your statement, Mr. Prescott?"
Nathan snorted and shot him an irritated look. "Oh, come on, do you even have to ask? Of course I retain my statement! She's the liar here, not me."
Wells let out a long, heavy sigh and looked at Mr. Madsen for a moment before his gaze returned back to Max. "I've given Mr. Madsen the assignment to conduct a search at Mr. Prescott's dorm room to verify the truth of your accusation."
That piece of information caught Max by surprise because she never thought the principal would actually consider to investigate this case. This turn of events gave her new hope and she shifted in her seat, watching Wells expectantly with her blue eyes.
But all her hopes were soon crushed from one second to the other as Principal Wells narrowed his dark eyes, his deep voice declaring matter-of-factly. "Yet it saddens me to inform you that he didn't find anything substantial which could back up your opinion. There were no drugs or syringes and he didn't find any brown leather sneakers either. "
Max threw a glance at Mr. Madsen who avoided her questioning eyes and the security guard gave Wells an accusing look instead, cursing under his breath and grumbling in frustration. "A drug detection dog would easily find this kid's secret stash but our principal here was against my suggestion. I'm sorry about that, missy."
'Really? Are you fucking kidding me?' Max thought and shook her head disbelievingly. It almost seemed as if Wells only attempted to look into this matter to keep up appearances without really trying to find out the truth here. It was incredibly frustrating to say the least.
Anger welled up inside her and her hands curled into tight fists. She wanted to rise from her chair and yell at this man now, to give free rein to her rage but Mark reacted quickly and stopped her. His warm hand was on her shoulder and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I know you're angry, Max. But please try to keep calm. Believe me, lashing out at Wells won't get you anywhere here."
"But..." Max protested, not understanding why she couldn't speak her mind. Her growing disappointment was so strong that she felt the need to let it out somehow, unable to contain her exasperation any longer.
"Shh, trust me, Max. You don't want to have an emotional outburst at the cost of risking your scholarship now, do you?" He reminded her in a thoughtful tone and his words caused her to stop and think it over once again.
'He's right, I should be careful. It's not worth it to jeopardize my scholarship just to tell Wells what I truly think of him. That I see him as just another pawn of Sean Prescott.' Max thought and nodded at Mark, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly to calm herself again.
The principal turned his attention to a yellow folder placed on his desk and pointed at it with a single finger, explaining. "Although we couldn't find any evidence we still have Mrs. Barenchi's report which clearly states that Ms. Caulfield has been injured."
Wells returned behind his mahogany desk and sat back in his armchair, steepling his fingers and eyeing Mrs. Barenchi now. The old school nurse was known as a kind and friendly woman around here. Everyone at Blackwell seemed to like her. She was like a mother to all students, always lending an open ear to everyone's little problems and troubles. Max also enjoyed listening to her chat about her time in Canada.
A few years ago Mrs. Barenchi had moved from Montréal to Arcadia Bay because her husband's family lived here. She loved to tell stories about her home country or how much she missed to speak french sometimes. Max knew that Mrs. Barenchi wasn't someone who was easily intimidated by Principal Wells or even Nathan Prescott. This woman would always say her opinion and Max was sure that she'd be on her side in this matter.
Mrs. Barenchi cleared her throat and stepped forward into the light, nodding at the principal. "I've examined Ms. Caulfield and I observed a concussion damage. It was clear to me that something solid must have hit the back of her head to cause such harm. Therefore I believe it's highly likely that someone must have attacked her."
Nathan made an offhand gesture, as if in dismissal and shook his head. "Come on, give me a break. So you're watching CSI every evening and think you're a specialist in forensic medicine now or what? Don't make me laugh."
Mrs. Barenchi looked insulted and the principal motioned to Mr. David Madsen with his right hand, announcing in a warning tone. "Please keep quiet or I might be forced to instruct Mr. Madsen to escort you out of my office."
The young Prescott sniffed and averted his eyes, murmuring. "What the fuck ever!"
Principal Wells fell silent for a moment and rested his elbows on the wooden desk. After his brief pause he interlocked his fingers and leaned forward, stating with a purposeful sigh. "I have to take all statements into consideration here and I agree with Mrs. Barenchi on this matter. I also believe that it was most likely an attack."
Wells turned to Max and showed her an understanding look. "I'm sorry you had to experience such an awful event, Ms. Caulfield."
Nathan glared at the tall man and clenched his fist. He was about to rise from his chair, wanting to protest but Wells held up a hand to silence him and shook his head slowly. He took a deep breath and got to his feet.
His gaze turned slightly in Nathan Prescott's direction and he continued. "Unfortunately there is no evidence that Mr. Prescott or anyone else at this school was involved in this incident which brings our whole investigation to a standstill."
Max felt the anger rise inside her again as she asked him. "And that means?"
"That means, Ms. Caulfield, that I have to cancel any further investigation due to lack of evidence. This was just a single incident and I can assure you it won't happen again."
Max wasn't convinced and the principal could see the doubt in her eyes.
His deep voice was carefully modulated now. "There are certain reasons why we can't afford to receive any new bad publicity now. Let me be frank about that. Half a year ago one of our best and most popular students here at Blackwell Academy disappeared under mysterious circumstances."
Wells gave her time to let the words sink in and Max furrowed her eyebrows. It was weird but even Nathan became very quiet all of a sudden and looked out of the windows now, seemingly deep in thought.
The principal adjusted his gray suit jacket and went on, speaking in a grave tone. "Sadly, this tragedy has caused quite a commotion here in Arcadia Bay. I know this has nothing to do with your case but I always have to take Blackwell's interests into account as well. Our school needs to shake off its current bad reputation. That's why I'd advise you to keep quiet about this and let our Mr. Madsen handle this matter. From now on we'll keep an eye on the campus area. And our faculty will soon discuss the option of an additional surveillance camera system which could help us to strengthen our security efforts."
Max was baffled. In the end the principal did nothing. What a sad joke. "So you won't even notify the police?" Max inquired.
"That won't be necessary. Mr. Madsen works closely with the police force and he'll contact them immediately if anything new should occur here. That would be all for today. Thank you all for your cooperation." Principal Wells dismissed them and exchanged a few words with Nathan Prescott before walking over to Mr. Jefferson. Both men were engaged in a lively conversation and Max decided it would be best if she met her photography teacher at a later time.
She felt a strong urge to leave now but when she arrived at the main entrance she spotted the young man who was responsible for all her problems. Nathan leaned against the heavy doors, seemingly busy searching cigarettes in his jacket pockets.
She approached him and hoped this might be a good opportunity to talk to him for a moment.
But she instantly regretted her stupid idea when he looked up at her. There was a flash of anger in his dark blue eyes as he asked. "What do you want, Caulfield? Are you upset that your little scheme didn't come to fruition, huh?"
"Oh, shut up, Prescott. I just wanted to know if you're okay but I guess being nice to you is just a waste of time." Max noted dryly, folding her arms over her chest.
Nathan glared at her, his voice louder now as he sneered. "I don't need your false sympathy, bitch. I know exactly what you are. You're just another hypocrite who thinks she can make a quick buck by slandering me."
"How dare you! I don't care about your damn money, Prescott! I only want you to get off my back! That's all." Max made clear and didn't back away. Her newfound confidence gave her strength. She stood taller, held her head higher, not appearing uncertain or anxious at all. Nathan would never scare her anymore.
The young Prescott glowered and snorted in response. "You're a liar, just like everybody else. And it's you who should stop hassling me or I'll call my fucking lawyer!"
'God, I hate this guy!' Max thought and held up her hands defensively. "Jeez, chill out, Prescott. See? I'm leaving, okay?"
Nathan watched her turn away from him and hissed after her. "You think you're special, right? That Mr. J. sees something in you or that he regards you as his new fave. But guess what, you're nothing... a nobody. Don't even think you'll become better than me just because he's giving you private lessons too."
Max froze on the spot, her body very tense and her eyes widening in shock. "Wait, what did you say?"
'He knows I'm Mark's private student? How? That's impossible...' Max thought and couldn't believe this. But the even bigger shock was the implication that he might be Mark's second private student.
He scoffed. "Oh, you heard me, selfie bitch. I give you one little piece of advice. Stay away from Jefferson and move your ass back to Seattle!"
Max raised an eyebrow, trying to look unimpressed. "Or what?"
Nathan only grinned at her and lit his cigarette, his voice sounding menacing as he whispered. "Or you'll die."
She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat and kept her voice steady although she felt very uneasy right now. "Is this a threat, Prescott?"
"It's a warning. The last one I'm giving you." Nathan announced and walked out now, leaving a confused Max behind. That was clearly an undisguised threat. Why was he doing this? It almost seemed as if he was jealous of her. Should she go to Principal Wells or contact Mr. Madsen now?
'Well, they won't believe me anyway.' Max thought grimly and felt a cold chill run down her spine, the realization hitting her that she was on her own once again.
"Are you okay, Max?" She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard Mark's soft voice so close to her ear, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I'm alright." Max assured him and forced a smile, shifting anxiously on her feet and avoiding his scrutinizing gaze.
His brown eyes looked her over as if he was trying to observe every possible detail. Max had the impression that he could see straight into her soul and that he could read all her thoughts inside her mind. There was no point in lying. Her teacher sensed that something was amiss here. "You look pale. Are you really alright? What happened?"
Max didn't want him to worry about her and chose to downplay the whole issue. "Oh, it's nothing. Nathan Prescott tried to threaten me... again. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"He threatened you?" Mark repeated slowly and his gaze darkened. For a second Max swore she caught an angry glint in his eyes. It was a glimpse of another side of him. A darker side.
"It's not the first time he did that and it won't be the last." She looked away and muttered. "Maybe I deserve this after... after what-what I've done."
He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently, telling her. "Max, please pardon my french but that's utter bullshit. You've done nothing wrong here. You're a bold artist who dared to take her first step into a new world, to venture into a territory others would never strive to go. I've told you before that photographers like Avedon or Arbus had to cross certain boundaries to capture extraordinary images. Unfortunately they had to face a lot of criticism and lack of understanding because many couldn't understand the true genius behind their efforts. Some people don't understand why we go to such lengths, why we stray from tradition and break the rules or why we push ourselves like that. They're unable to comprehend the complexity of our vision."
Mark's brown eyes stared at her intensely now. He wanted her to realize that all this had a higher meaning, that all this was for the sole purpose of creating exceptional art. "But you and I, Max. We understand. This is why you should never question yourself. Believe in yourself, believe in your work and stand behind your decisions."
"I'm trying. Although this was an odd experience, it helped me somehow. And I'm glad you were there with me that night. Look, it's okay. I just don't want to talk about Nathan here. That's all." Max said, hoping he would just leave it be. There had been enough trouble about her lately and she just wanted to forget all that for a while.
"You're not fine, Max. But I can see you're tired and I can understand if you don't want to address this matter right now."
He paused for a few seconds, his expression suddenly changing as a new thought crossed his mind. "I think we could both need some distraction after all this. So how about us having our first date tonight? What do you say?"
Her mouth fell open. "Our... first date? Are you cereal?" She couldn't quite believe she would have a date with Mark Jefferson. It was too good to be true.
'Wowsers! Someone pinch me. I need to know if this is another one of my silly daydreams or not.' Max thought and couldn't help but stare at him. She was speechless. His suggestion caught her completely off guard.
Mark chuckled lightly, his eyes holding hers. "So I take this as a yes?"
The way he said it made her blush. Max nodded enthusiastically, feeling the temperature rising within her. "Yes, that-that sounds great."
He smiled at her. "Very good. I'll pick you up at 7pm then. And please don't worry about your attire. Casual clothing will be just fine."
She already made wild guesses in her mind. 'Maybe we'll visit an art museum or we go see another exhibition...'
This was so exciting and she couldn't wait to see where he would take her. Being barely able to hold back her curiosity she inquired. "Oh, so...um, where are we going today?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you. It would only spoil the fun." He told her in a cheerful tone and made his way to the exit now, pausing at the large doors and giving her a wink. "See you tonight... Maxine."
"Hey, wait a sec! It's Max! Never Maxine!" Max corrected him quickly but her teacher only showed her one last amused smile and left the school.
It was already night and everything was dark outside as Max stared out of the car windows. They were driving down the highway for about half an hour which almost seemed like an eternity to her. Finally Mark took the next exit and she had to strain her eyes to make out the sign. It read Idaville.
Max wasn't sure what Mark wanted here. The town appeared to be as small as Arcadia Bay. Or maybe it was even smaller. This didn't seem like the right place for a cool and world-renowned photographer like Mark Jefferson. In Max's mind he was this unapproachable and superchill man who loved to stroll through the bustling streets of New York, Paris or Rome.
"I know this is a sleepy town but you'll be surprised to see that it has one of the best Jazz bars here in Oregon." Mark revealed and parked his car at a busy main road filled with shops, bars and restaurants.
He got out of the car and opened the passenger door for her, offering her his hand like a gentleman.
She gave him her hand and he drew it to his lips, gently kissing it. A jolt of electricity passed between them as she felt his warm lips touch her skin. There was this tension again. An unbearable tension that slowly seemed to rise, the atmosphere becoming charged and only waiting to be released at last.
"I'm glad you're here with me tonight, Max." Mark's eyes met hers and a knowing smile curled his lips.
Max smiled back at him, her blue eyes glued to his. "And I'm glad you've invited me."
He studied her for a long moment and gave her an appreciative look, breathing in a surprised tone. "You look lovely, Max. I'm sure all eyes will be on you this evening."
The instant she heard his compliment, she felt the blood rise to her face. Although Mark had advised her to wear something casual, she had still decided to opt for a different outfit today. That was why she wore something more elegant. Her chosen attire was a silky white blouse and black leggings with matching black boots.
Max blinked a few times and noted nervously. "You, uh, you also look quite good, Mark."
'Quite good? Damn it, Max! Can't you say anything better? Gosh, this is so embarrassing.' Max thought and noticed too late that she had been staring at him for too long.
His look was perfect again. His outfit consisted of a fashionable dark suit and a fitting dark blue shirt. This man effortlessly exuded an aura of confidence and sexual magnetism which made him not only attractive in her eyes but also quite irresistible. Once again she felt like a helpless moth drawn to his flame.
Mark gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her into the jazz bar. The tiny brick building looked inconspicuous from the outside, but the moment Max stepped inside she was immersed in a chill, intimate atmosphere. The jazz club was cozy, dimly lit and had its own genuine character. The whole room was embedded in stylish, vintage decoration. The walls were adorned with old vinyl record covers and original photographs of jazz legends such as Miles Davis or Louis Armstrong. The place had a little stage at the back of the room which gave visitors the opportunity to experience the live jazz sessions up close.
"Wowsers." Max breathed and instantly regretted the fact that she didn't bring her analog camera with her today.
Mark smiled at her reaction and asked the waiter to take them to their table. It was at the far side of the room and offered a nice window view at the buzzing main street. They sat down and ordered their meals and drinks. The menu comprised traditional cuisine and both chose a steak dish as dinner here.
"I've read about this bar in a magazine article and I really enjoy the live performances here. The local musicians play nice, cool jazz and the atmosphere is always very relaxed. It's a good place to switch off and to unwind after work." Mark explained and poured white wine into their glasses.
He raised his glass and gave her a charming smile. "To us and the beauty of photography which allows us to savor each and every moment in life with the highest intensity."
Max almost emptied her glass, hoping this would help her to calm her nervousness. Being so close together with him and holding hands like this was entirely new to her. It was intoxicating and also extremely romantic. Mark chose to keep the tone of their conversation light and touched upon various subjects and not only photography. Yet, it didn't matter to Max what the topic was, she was literally hanging on his every word.
The jazz band went up to the stage now and the tenor saxophonist took his time to introduce his several band members. After the crowd greeted them with almost frenetic applause they started with an upbeat song. Max tried to focus on the music, making out the sounds of the different instruments like a guitar, a piano, trumpets, drums or saxophones which formed a harmonic whole.
"I've always wondered, why are you so intrigued by jazz music, Mark?" That question had been on her mind for a while now because jazz was a music genre she'd never listen to in her free time. Her preferred genre had always been indie rock and pop music.
A faraway look came into his eyes and he tugged his beard. "Well, I guess you could say my father started it all. Jazz was my constant companion during my childhood and my love and appreciation for this kind of music never left me. You see, Max, Jazz is special. It's about sound, about the expression in sound of an authentic response to life, to all of life, with its ups and downs, its elation and heart-break, its moments of relaxation and hard labor. It's love... and hate."
There was a sparkle in his brown eyes now, his fascination clearly visible on his face as he continued. "A live jazz performance also reminds me a lot of a photography session. You could watch this local band up there every night and each time their performance would never be the same again because of the improvisation. It's like poetry, an art of surprise just like photography. I strongly believe that improvised photo sessions often produce the best results because they contain an element of surprise too, a moment of pure genius."
"But don't you also prefer to plan a shooting in advance? Isn't that your usual approach?" Max wanted to know.
"In most cases, yes. If you work as a fashion photographer you get into an everyday routine and it's important to get out of there, to try out something new. I must confess I don't have plans for our upcoming session, Max. I have ideas, yes. But I'd try to improvise to achieve something truly special."
Mark seemed to assess her carefully and there was this intense look in his eyes again as he suggested. "What do you say? Would you agree to let me capture you tonight, Max?"
A look of surprise flashed in her eyes as she echoed. "Tonight?"
He sensed her hesitation and moved closer, gently pushing a strand of brown hair from her face. His voice was very soft, almost soothing now. "It's only a suggestion, Max. Please, let me explain this. I think that we've deepened our bond now, that we trust each other and... well, we both can't deny that we have feelings for each other. These are all essential requirements to perform an intimate session such as this one. We could create beautiful art together. But of course, I'd never shoot you without your consent. If you think, you're not ready yet, I will wait for you. I will always wait for you, Max."
Max became flustered and replied in an unsure voice. "If-if you really think it's okay, I would do it, yes. But only under one condition."
Mark arched an eyebrow. "I'm all ears."
She broke eye contact and muttered. "I-I need to know if Nathan is your other private student."
Mark's features turned into a mask of bitterness after hearing this and he questioned her. "My other private student? Did he tell you that?"
"Yes. Is it the truth?" Max demanded to know, still hoping that Nathan had lied to her.
'Please don't let it be true. Please don't let it be true.' She repeated in her head like a mantra.
He sighed and narrowed his eyes. "I'm sorry, it's the truth, Max."
She couldn't believe it and murmured. "But why? Why didn't you tell me about him? Did you know that? What he was going to do to me?"
"Please, you have to believe me, I didn't know." He quickly clarified and went on. "If I had known I would have stopped him. As to your other question. I'm afraid I couldn't reveal this information to you. You see, Nathan is ashamed of his love for photography. No one at Blackwell is supposed to learn about his secret hobby. He's afraid his friends and classmates would make fun of him or that they would treat him differently, yes, that they would even bully him. I respected his wishes and that's the reason why I've kept this to myself all this time."
Max shook her head, not understanding why Mark did this. Her gaze dropped to the table momentarily, her hurt audible in her voice. "But why Nathan Prescott? I don't understand."
"There are many reasons. For one, I think he's genuinely talented and possesses the potential to become a great photographer. Just like you. And I've also hoped I could help him. His father Sean treats him like shit and I knew about his illness, that he's mentally unstable. I was certain that photography could be an anchor for him, that it could provide a cure to keep him connected to reality. But I was wrong. I've overestimated myself. I should have known that this clearly exceeded my capabilities as his teacher. I'm no psychiatrist nor a therapist." His expression became worried as he saw the conflict in her eyes, asking in a concerned tone. "Do you hate me now, Max?"
Max was upset but she made clear. "No, I could never hate you. And how can I even be angry at you? You've tried to help Nathan. You've done nothing wrong here."
He seemed relieved and murmured. "Thank you, Max. I wish I could be an Everyday Hero but I am not. I'm not as perfect as you think I am. I'm complicated. I struggle, I have flaws and I am human after all. And even I can err or make mistakes. I hope that this doesn't stand between us now. You know how much I enjoy your company and how much you mean to me. If you ask me to quit Nathan's private lessons, I'll do it at once."
She gave him a weak smile and said. "No, it's okay, really. Gosh, I always try to make everything right myself but I'm also not perfect. You can ask my friends. They'll tell you that I've screwed up many times in my life too. It's as you said. We're both not so different, right?"
"Thank you for your understanding. I know it isn't easy knowing all this, especially now that Nathan has threatened you."
Max sighed and her gaze moved to the stage. "I've hoped you wouldn't address this issue again, Mark. This is our first date and I don't want Nathan Prescott to ruin our night here together."
"You're right, Max. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have brought this up. Let's talk about something else, okay? Why don't you tell me about your entry for the Everyday Heroes Contest? Did you make any progress? Any flashes of inspiration?"
She grimaced. "Not really. God, I must sound like a total loser... To tell you the truth, I didn't have much time to think about the contest at all and after everything that happened, it's been hard to focus. No pun intended."
Mark cupped her cheek and looked deep into her eyes. "Don't be so hard on yourself." He told her, speaking with that soft voice which encouraged her and gave her strength every time. "You're a true artist and sometimes inspiration comes to us when we least expect it. I'm sure you'll submit a stunning piece of art, Max. I know you can do this."
"Thank you... for always believing in me." She breathed and could feel the heat rising to her face. This close proximity was wreaking havoc on her body again. It burned her from the inside.
Thankfully their food eventually arrived and the conversation became more general again. They talked about Arcadia Bay, her time in Seattle or his exciting life as famous fashion photographer. This night was magical and once more she had this feeling to be someone special in his eyes. Many times she became incredibly flustered when he showered her with compliments or made her laugh. Max was so captivated that she completely forgot everything around her. Only he seemed to exist here. The young student felt so at ease with him as if she had known him for a very long time. She was so engrossed in conversation that she didn't notice how quickly time flew by.
Only when the waiter appeared to ask if everything was to their satisfaction, she felt disappointed, thinking to herself that it was over much too soon.
Mark must have sensed her sudden change of mood and squeezed her hand gently. "It's okay, Max. The night is still young and we both have an eventful session to look forward to, don't we?"
She laughed nervously and jested. "Oh yes, the session. How could I forget that?"
The atmosphere was strange tonight. Max sensed there was something in the air, she could practically feel it when they descended the stairs to his photography studio. Mark on the other hand was his usual self. All his thoughts were fixated on this session. He appeared to have a tunnel vision. Every little speck of his attention was going towards this one single goal: achieving the best results. Yet he had taken his time to make sure that she was comfortable, giving her a cup of hot chocolate while he took a sip of his own espresso.
After arriving downstairs Max needed a moment to take it all in. The studio's interior had changed. It seemed much more inviting than last time. Several framed photo prints of Ansel Adams' landscape photography shots decorated the white walls now. And she was surprised that it wasn't so cold down here anymore. A mobile heating system stood at the back of the room and provided enough warmth here.
Everything was ready. A black backdrop was plastered to the wall and the soft lights shone brightly. The whole studio equipment filled the small room with a continuous humming and vibrating noise.
"You've added some decoration." Max remarked.
Mark turned to her, flashing a smile. "Do you like it?"
She pointed at one of the photo prints. "The same picture hangs in your office. It's Ansel Adams' The Tetons and the Snake River. I'd recognize it anywhere."
"Ah yes, that one is a true masterpiece. As you already know, black and white is perfect for portrait photography but it's also very expressive for capturing landscapes. I feel there's something magical, something timeless in these monochrome shots. You see the world in a different way. Instead of looking at the color and the light, we look at texture, shape, tones and the interplay between light and shadow. That's why black and white photography will never cease to amaze me, Max." He clarified with a hint of fascination in his brown eyes.
Max nodded and agreed. "I've come to love black and white photography too. It possesses a pure and ageless quality that cannot be matched. Especially Ansel Adams and Edward Weston produced some of the most memorable images of all time."
Mark gave her a curious look and asked her. "Do you notice anything else? Do you have an idea how I want to capture you?"
She gestured at the black backdrop and smiled knowingly. "A black backdrop... That can only mean you'll apply your chiaroscuro style here."
He nodded approvingly and talked like he was giving another typical lecture in his art class. "You're right, Max. The technique I'm going to use is low-key photography and in the world of painting you'd call it chiaroscuro because it's a painting technique which added similar dramatic tones to its images."
Max knew what low-key photography was. It was a photographic style used to create mood with bold shadows and injected drama into an image. A perfect style for artistic and atmospheric shots. But she had never seen an actual session before.
She furrowed her brows, questioning. "So you'll shoot me completely in darkness?"
He moved closer and reached up with his right hand to caress her face tenderly. "You'll see that a pure black area can make a photograph uniquely beautiful. That's why Henri Matisse called black the queen of all colors, Max. Because black is beautiful. Through low-key photography I limit my light sources in dark areas and celebrate shadow rather than light. And this way I can perfectly isolate my subject and draw the viewer's attention to you alone, my model."
She gulped, her mind already conjuring images how she might look if her body was drowning in darkness. Mark gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder. "Let's warm up and start with some test shots first, cool?"
"Alright." Max murmured and watched him walk over to a cabinet where he took out an acoustic guitar.
Her eyes went wide in awe the second she recognized the Taylor label. "Whoa, isn't that the Taylor 210 DLX? Are you kidding me?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and wondering how Mark could get his hands on such an expensive guitar.
He chuckled. "I've borrowed this from a friend of mine and judging from your reaction, this baby here must be a fine guitar."
"Oh yeah, though fine is quite an understatement. This guitar is perfect for unplugged performances and I really like its simple design. It's awesome but an ordinary student like me could never afford something like this." She told him and couldn't take her eyes off this stylish guitar. The sheer thought to be able to play with this instrument made her feel really giddy.
"I've told you that I'd love to see you play, Max. And music also aids you to relax so I'm killing two birds with one stone here." Mark pointed out and handed her the acoustic guitar with a rather pleased look on his face.
For a moment Max worried that she might accidentally drop this valuable guitar and held it tightly to her chest. Her teacher proposed to sit down on the white leather couch and he positioned his tripod accordingly, changing his camera settings and rearranging the nearby studio lights.
Max's fingers deftly turned the tuning pegs to improve its intonation. Her damn nervousness was rising again but Mark's calmness seemed to transfer over to her, causing her to relax in her seat.
"Just be your usual self and don't mind me and my camera. Okay, Max?" Mark suggested and gave her one last encouraging smile.
'Okay, you can do it, Super Max. Just imagine you're sitting in your dorm room and you play one of your favorite songs. You do it every day, it's no big deal.' Max thought and uttered a sigh.
'Gosh, I don't even know what I should play here.' She asked herself and randomly picked a few strings and suddenly it came to her, Syd Matters' Obstacles.
Closing her eyes she began to look for the chords. Her fingers seemed to have a memory of their own as they glided over the strings. When Max heard the familiar tune in her own ears, she sang along the lyrics in her head and instantly felt at ease. She could feel how she was channeling her emotions into the song and slowly allowed herself to lose herself in her own music, leaving herself exposed in front of her teacher. She bared her soul and Mark would see everything. The notion alone made her feel dizzy, vulnerable yet she also felt strangely alive right now.
Mark Jefferson looked through the eyepiece of his camera and took several shots of this innocent angel in front of him. Max's head was slightly tilted to the side and her soft lips formed a content smile. He couldn't help but take a few moments to pause and admire her beauty. The dreamy expression on her face, or the way her face seemed to light up whenever the song reached certain points, playing a sad, soothing melody. Mark could feel how Max was able to convey warmth and intimacy through her music, how she poured her own feelings into the song.
His lips curled upwards and pride flooded his system. 'Max, you're mine. You're all that I need.' He thought and was enraptured by her sight. This wonderful moment was precious to him and he wanted to store it in his memory forever.
The realization slowly sank in that she could become an integral part of his life now. Their lives were already beginning to weave together, to merge, to wrap around one another, like two different threads tying to one single knot. Max was his light and he was her shadow. Two opposites were getting closer and closer. They'd become whole at the end to complement and support each other.
While the thought of being so close, so intimate to someone else was exhilarating and invigorating, it also terrified him greatly. The lines between them were blurring and she'd see his true self and get a glimpse of who they both could become together.
Love. Mark understood what it was but he had never experienced anything like this before. It was a new, foreign feeling to him. It became clear to him that he wanted her at all costs. He wanted to possess her, to own her and to shield her from any harm. He even entertained the idea to place his trust in her. And would Max love him back? Would she understand him and end this agonizing loneliness he felt in his heart? Would it all be worth it, to put all his work at risk for this? For a chance to feel love and be loved in return? Mark was willing to expose himself to such weakness. For Max. He needed to set her free, to let her talent flourish under his guidance and to draw out parts of herself she never knew she possessed. Only he could enlighten her and bring out the best in her.
It was over and Max pressed the palm of her hand to the strings to let the last chords die away. When she opened her eyes she found Mark standing behind his tripod. There was a look of admiration in his dark eyes as he stared at her and stated. "Thank you, Max. You've truly captivated me with your performance tonight. I'm lost for words and I can assure you, that doesn't happen very often."
Max smiled shyly and muttered. "Oh, that was nothing, really. I'm just an amateur guitar player and this wasn't such a difficult song."
"Come on, give yourself some credit. You were able to convey emotion here which made it a memorable experience in my eyes. Always remember, music and photography are nothing without emotion."
She knew he was right and became curious, asking him. "So, um, how did your test shots come out?"
"They are quite good... as a test. But the real challenge begins now. Our next session will be entirely different. This time we'll only use one single light source. Thus I can create striking contrasts through reduced lighting. You'll see that shadows will be the primary element of my new composition." Mark announced and gave her instructions to stand in front of the black backdrop while he carried a grid softbox to another spot, positioning it very close to her to avoid spilling and bouncing light.
The second he turned off the other lights with a remote control, the small studio room was nearly engulfed in complete darkness. It looked scary and haunting, yet also very mysterious.
Dim, white light illuminated her face from the side and Mark inquired once again if she was feeling well or if she needed a short break.
But Max denied and only hoped to get this over and done with soon. There was this intensity in his hooded eyes again, making her not only incredibly nervous, yet also immediately raising goosebumps all over her skin.
Mark gave her a wink, obviously trying to relieve the tension. "No need to be so nervous around me, Max. We've had so many sessions before. I think you're already a pro now."
With that he left her and sauntered over to his camera. His fingers tapped the small display screen to set the ISO and shutter speed.
When he was finally finished with his setup his eyes went up to meet hers and he added with a smug smirk. "They say low-key photography is always a terrific challenge and some need a lifetime to master this style. But you can rest assured, this is my specialty and I promise you I'll produce some spectacular images here."
At first Mark started with the aperture wide open and took a few test shots to adjust the light to his scene. Though something didn't seem to be right. He looked back and forth between his viewfinder screen and his model, a deep frown creasing his forehead.
"What is it?" Max wanted to know, her unsure voice betraying her apparent concern.
"We have two major problems." His gaze went up and his voice was thoughtful as he explained. "First, I'm afraid your white blouse appears very bright in these shots. It's very distracting."
Max bit her bottom lip and thought. 'Oh, that's just great. You chose the wrong outfit, idiot.'
She gulped and wondered what the second problem was. "And what's the other problem?"
"It's your nervousness, Max. You see, it affects your whole demeanor, the way you come across in these pictures. It's okay to feel like this sometimes. We have sweaty palms, we're tense and feel our chest tighten. That's normal. Yet, the trick is not to let it show."
A new idea crossed his mind and his gaze towards her softened. "Let's try something else, okay?"
Her eyes followed him taking another few camera adjustments and to her surprise he strolled over to his desk now to remove his black suit jacket with one elegant move of his arm. He put it down on the table and folded it immaculately. When his attention returned back to her, she saw an intense look burning in his eyes. Everything was reflected in those eyes behind the spectacles. They were filled with excitement and passion.
Her body was trembling and she couldn't tear her eyes away as he closed the distance between them. To see Max like this thrilled him in a way he couldn't define. She was trapped now between the black backdrop and his own body. They both could sense the supercharged atmosphere hanging in the air.
The two were very close and he leaned in mere inches from her face, their bodies just shy of touching. Mark placed his warm hand on her cheek, suggesting in a calm tone. "Would you agree to take off your blouse, Max? I fear your light-colored outfit distracts from the place where I want the viewer's eye to go. What I want to illuminate is your face and your upper body. It'll create stunning contrasts and will accentuate your contours."
This closeness was overwhelming her. She looked down at her blouse and hesitated. "Um, take off my blouse? Are you cereal?"
Mark nodded, his intent eyes studying her. "Yes, and if it makes you feel any better, I'll take off my own shirt as well."
He started to unbutton his dark blue shirt and chuckled lightly, assuring her. "Don't worry, Max. I won't turn this into a sensual art photography session although I must confess the idea alone is very tempting. This chiaroscuro effect works best on naked skin. I reveal physical beauty in a manner that is subtle and understated. Thus I bring out the curves, the texture of your skin, your grace and the unique beauty of you as my model."
She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. "I'm not a model like Cindy Crawford or Naomi Campbell. I'm just a plain student with an everyday look. So, I don't really understand... What's so beautiful about me?"
There was a strange glimmer in his dark eyes as he replied in an appreciative tone. "I'm talking about natural beauty here. It's a rare gift and very pleasing to the eyes. You don't need to apply much makeup because your natural look already brings out the best in you. Like your soft freckles that accent your face or your striking blue eyes which are so pure and divine, shining so crystal-clear like water of a secluded mountain lake."
His eyes were boring into hers so intensely that she stopped breathing for a moment, feeling her heart pounding so hard in her chest he most probably heard it too. Max gulped and her eyes were staring at his now bare torso, revealing his broad shoulders and lower abs.
Something was happening to her and she felt truly powerless to keep herself in check. Her shaking fingers fiddled with the buttons of her blouse and Max swallowed hard, asking him. "Was this your plan all along?"
Her question seemed to amuse him. "Are you perhaps implying I have ulterior motives, Max?"
She blinked. "Do you?"
A challenging smile started to creep onto the curve of his lips as he asked in return."Hmm, why don't you try to figure this out for yourself?"
Max didn't miss the suggestive tone in his voice and immediately felt her cheeks flush crimson. It was crazy. His words and this close proximity affected her greatly. And gosh, his eyes. Those eyes looked at her in a way that made her mouth go dry.
She struggled with her blouse, feeling her fingers were all thumbs. Thankfully Mark helped her, slowly undoing the top button in an unhurried manner while his eyes never left hers. Max could only watch in silence how the second button was opened by his long fingers. Being barely able to breathe, she felt an odd spark of excitement deep inside of her.
"Shh, relax, Max." He told her when his fingers approached the last button. A surprised gasp escaped her lips as his fingertips glided over her shoulders and peeled off the thin fabric, letting it slide down her body.
Mark inhaled her scent deeply and let out a slow breath as he drank her sight in. Desire and appreciation were in his eyes and his voice was barely above a whisper as he stated. "Oh Max, you are truly purity personified."
His young muse was at the height of her innocence and beauty. He would finally capture her the way he had always intended. The way it was meant to be. Through his vision he would turn her into a piece of art. A marvelous photograph that would last for eternity and would transcend even time itself.
Only one last obstacle stood between him and his vision. He needed to awaken the emotion in these blue eyes. This is what he sought to capture. Emotion possessed the largest impact and it would make his images truly shine.
Max felt awkward to be this exposed, her bra the only cover from being naked. She instinctively raised her arms to fold them over her chest but Mark stopped her. His hands slid from her shoulders down to her arms and held her firmly, insisting. "Shh, it's alright. Don't hide yourself."
Mark Jefferson was once again reminded of her fragility and he appreciated it for a moment, knowing it wouldn't last. Max would become his protégé soon and her soft skin would have to harden. Her lesson would be to go beyond her limits. Only then would she be able to get closer to her teacher.
He stepped behind her and his arms wrapped around her body, pressing her back against his bare chest. The heat of their bodies rose and his lips almost touched her earlobe as his voice fell into a whisper. "Tell me, Max. What are you afraid of?"
Max narrowed her eyes, admitting in a quiet voice. "Honestly, I'm afraid of my own feelings. That I'm willing to give up my control like that. It's something I've never done before and it kinda scares me."
Mark kissed the top of her head and murmured. "Don't be scared. I know from past experience how hard it is to let your guard down and to open yourself to someone else. I promised you I'd never do anything to hurt you or that might make you feel uncomfortable. Believe me, this growing attraction between us affects me just as much as you. Yet I feel that this strong connection we share is rare and very… special. Listen to your heart, Max. Allow yourself to let go of your doubts and worries."
She took a deep breath and asked the question that had been troubling her in the back of her mind. "Will you... will you shoot me in the same manner like I captured Nathan?"
"Max, don't worry. I believe I've already told you it's not my intention to shoot you in an unconscious state. What I need to see is the emotion shining in your eyes and to achieve this I'll have to take another approach."
"Do you recall our forest photo session?" He asked, looking deep into her eyes and his arms still encircling her slender frame.
"Um, yes." Max replied and her stomach twitched nervously. She was unable to think clearly anymore. This was all too much. The heat of his body. The familiar, masculine scent of his sandalwood cologne. That irresistible, soft voice that could effortlessly bring her to her knees. Or that dark, intense look in his eyes that could melt her right there on the spot.
"What would you say if we do it again?" He whispered in a husky voice and moved her so that they both faced his camera now.
"Uh..." Max didn't know what to say, her mind was a total mess. The feel of his warm skin against hers overwhelmed her. His index finger began to trace her bottom lip and her ears faintly registered the click of the shutter in front of her.
His palm was on her cheek again, turning her face towards him. Before she knew what was happening, he leaned down and his lips were on hers. Time seemed to stand still but Max also had the impression it went by in an instant. She stopped breathing and her blood was relentlessly pumping in her ears. His unexpected move set her whole body on fire as his warm lips brushed over hers, moving them along her own lips eagerly, almost roughly.
Mark couldn't hold back his craving any longer. His mask was slipping and revealed another side of him. A passionate and hungry side. He needed to feel her. Here and now. His hands drifted down, traveling over every small curve of her body. His careful touch was almost reverent, like a sculptor who could finally lay fingers on his own cherished creation.
The clicking sounds of the shutter just faded away. Both of them had completely forgotten their surroundings and were only focused on each other.
There was nothing gentle in his kiss anymore. It was pure longing that had accumulated after all this time and was finally released upon her. Max let out an involuntary moan. The heat surged through her center when his tongue urged her lips apart to enter her mouth as though he needed to taste and savor her again. His right hand glided into her short hair and stroked her while he pulled away to press his warm lips against her naked skin, placing soft kisses along her neck down to her collarbone.
All her senses were invaded and her body thrilled at the contact as his mouth worshipped her. His scattered kisses burned electric into her, igniting a spark wherever his soft lips caressed her. There was something enticing in the way how his hands and mouth patiently explored her body, making her feel as if she were a goddess in his eyes. A goddess only he could fully adore.
Max shuddered and felt an aching pull at her navel as he was playfully nipping and biting the sensitive skin of her neck with his teeth. His beard tickled her and he tilted his head to the side to observe her, his eyes alight with a strange fascination.
"Oh Christ, look at you... this pure expression... You're breathtaking, Max." Max couldn't help but shiver at hearing his compliment, staring helplessly into the black sea of his eyes which seemed to fill her field of vision.
His eyes wandered over her face, he was consumed by this vision before him. The image in his mind how he wanted to capture her had been made reality. She was wide open, exposed for him. The older man could read everything, all her feelings were reflected in her brilliant blue eyes.
Mark caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers and she couldn't help but bask in his touch.
He admitted in a quiet tone. "I fear I got a little carried away. I hope I didn't scare you there. It's just that you captivate me in a way that I'm unable to hold myself back any longer. We can stop now and have a look at our shots, cool?"
Max couldn't deny the depth of emotion she felt for him. It was an aching longing, like liquid heat coursing through her veins. She wanted him. It was stronger than anything she had ever felt before in her life and in this moment she only wished she could stay with him tonight, thinking that her dark sensual dreams of him that had been lingering deep inside her mind would finally come true.
She shook her head and placed her hand upon his, pleading. "Please, don't. I don't want this to end."
"Are you sure, Max?" He asked in a thick, deep voice, searching her eyes for an answer and knowing there would be no turning back for them now.
Their eyes locked and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation as her reply was a mere whisper. "Yes."
Everything happened as if in slow motion. His strong arms took her and picked her up bridal style. There was an airy feel in her limbs now, like being completely weightless in his arms. The next moment she found herself lying back in is king-size bed. The whole world had turned black and white around her. These were the only colors she could make out in his bedroom.
At first she was very nervous and Mark seemed to sense it of course. It was as if he was treating her like a fragile piece of art, being very gentle and caring towards her. His eyes shone warmly and looked different without his glasses in the darkness. He leaned close to press his lips against hers and pulled her tight against him. Their arms were wrapped around each other as they shared long, lingering kisses. Max soon became light headed and felt the blood rush in her head. It was almost unreal. All these sensations were mounting and starting to overwhelm her. She was lost in the way he devoured her body with his warm hands and soft lips all over her, exploring and caressing every inch of her skin.
Mark played her like an instrument and left her breathless, eliciting quiet moans and whimpers of pleasure and delight. Her entire body responded to his astonishing affections and she felt an incredible heat surge through her. He seemed to love teasing her. Again and again. To bring her close to the verge and let her walk the edge, making his pretty muse shake and tremble beneath him.
Max was helpless before him, enjoying what he did to her while he was losing himself in the feel of her. His lips were tracing her neck again and he smiled against her skin as he heard her soft intake of breath, feeling the quick throbbing of her pulse underneath his touch.
It filled him with a strange satisfaction, knowing that he would be her first. And he wanted her to savor this moment, to let her know just how much she meant to him, how she turned his whole world upside down.
The moment they both became one and Mark made her his, he was completely lost in the tight heat of her body. He had never seen anything like this before. Such perfection.
He allowed himself to succumb to his urges and lost control while he buried himself deep inside of her. Shaky kisses covered her delicate neck and Max could feel a warm pressure building inside her which only grew with each meeting of their hips. The temperature was rising between them and his lips descended upon hers again. The long kiss they shared only seemed to heighten the pulsing sensation. Her own tongue felt heavy against his and she gasped as he finally sent them both over the edge with one last thrust. Her world collapsed around her as she drowned in a great wave of overwhelming pleasure, feeling every single cell in her body explode at once, consumed by a hot, tingling fire. The feeling alone to be filled with this heat intensified the experience thousandfold. It was as if she had found who she belonged to, someone to make her feel absolutely whole and complete.
His dark eyes held hers. It was an intoxicating sight, watching her body and soul surrender to him, seeing a supernova explode in her beautiful blue eyes and witnessing her unravel beneath him.
Mark waited a few moments to let them catch their breath and slowly withdrew from her exhausted body. He took her in his arms and held her close, his forehead resting against hers.
They were lying there in silence with their eyes closed and listening to their own heartbeat and steady breathing.
"Are you alright, Max?" He asked in a quiet tone.
Max shifted in his arms, a shy smile appearing on her lips. "I'm okay. But I don't know what to say."
She stared at him and blushed, trying to search for the right words how to describe this. "That was... wowsers."
Mark smiled in return and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering. "Oh, yes. This was quite a pleasurable experience, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it really was." Max breathed and hugged him tighter. She felt so tired that she fell asleep in his embrace within minutes. Mark couldn't take his eyes off of her and watched his sleeping beauty for a while. It had been a long time since he felt this content in his life. He draped the black sheets over them and allowed himself to rest, with Max pressed close to his chest.
This place felt like the perfect place of retreat. The tiny, shabby pub was located in the outskirts of Arcadia Bay and Nathan could sit here without being noticed by others. Usually it only meant trouble when people recognized the son of Sean Prescott. Sean had ruined many lives here and was also the cause for the high unemployment rate in this small town.
The boy listened to the old jukebox playing another annoying country song and grabbed his glass to down another beer quickly. He only wanted to be alone and forget this shitty day.
But it seemed fate had other plans for him as a loud female voice almost startled him. "Yo, what's up, little rich kid? Haven't seen you in a while."
He turned around and saw Rachel's blue-haired bitch friend and grumbled. "None of your business, punk ass. Leave me!"
The punk girl held up her hands and grinned. "Hey, slow down there. No need to be so pissy, 'kay?"
"What do you want from me, Prince? Need some weed again?" Nathan asked and glared at her with his dark blue eyes.
"It's Price, dude." The punk corrected him and hopped down on the bar stool next to him.
Nathan hissed. "Price or Prince... What the fuck ever! How about dumb punk ass? That seems to suit you just right."
"Call me whatever you want, Prescott. I only want to talk bidness with you." Price made clear and ordered herself a beer.
"Oh, another bitch who needs my father's money. How much do you need?" He asked in an amused tone, not even thinking for one single second to give her one buck. But still this was kinda fun and he wanted to play this game to see how far she was willing to go.
She grinned and replied. "Three grand would be nice for a start."
"Three grand?" Nathan spat, "Are you fucking kidding me?" he snorted and almost dropped his beer bottle in surprise. "What makes you think I'd give you that amount of cash, huh?"
"Well, we both work for Frank. Maybe we could, you know, work together, like partners. I could help you." Price suggested and took a sip from her bottle.
Nathan laughed dismissively. "Oh, you're a funny one, Price. I give you that."
Price gave him a wink. "So, what do you say? The two of us could make hella cash together."
"How about this? I'll invite you to my dorm room and we can discuss the details." Nathan proposed and saw this as a great opportunity to capture this punk ass. All he needed were those damn photos of her and Mark would be proud of him again. Maybe he'd even forget the stupid Caulfield bitch. Wouldn't that be great?
He waited and saw her hesitating for a moment. Yet Nathan knew she couldn't resist the bait. They all wanted his precious Prescott money and this bitch wasn't any different than the others.
The punk finally nodded and grinned. "Sounds cool to me. Let's go to your place, rich kid."
