Thursday, October 10th, 2013 - Blackwell Academy: Courtyard

"Christ, I would literally kill someone for a cigarette right now."

The cool night air that caresses Victoria's skin feels invigorating as she walks arm-in-arm with her friends on their way from the dorms to the Blackwell Academy gymnasium, where the End of the World Party is being held. And she has to admit that her arm-candy for the evening are looking fiiiiiiiiine, almost a matching pair with Courtney in her black and white striped shirt and black skinny jeans, while Taylor is rocking white denim short shorts, and a low-cut black blouse layered with a silky black overshirt left to hang open in the front. They are the baddest bitches in Blackwell. This party is not gonna know what hit it.

Victoria does her best to push thoughts of Max and Chloe and death and break-ups to the side. She's had enough fucking guilt and hurt and anger bouncing in her head for one evening, and would love to just be able to forget about everything for a few hours. She knows tomorrow isn't going to feel much better, but that's future Vic's problem. All present Vic wants is to give the world a great big middle finger, get trashed, and maybe even dance with a hottie or two if she's feeling up to it.

Thankfully she's distracted from her more negative emotions by Courtney, who releases her arm to start digging through her purse, making excited little humming noises as she does. For the moment Taylor seems to be engrossed in her phone as they walk, tapping out rapid-fire messages with one hand while the other gently squeezes Victoria's arm. If she had to guess, the sweet girl was most likely alerting the other Vortex Club attendees about Victoria's impending arrival, and doing her best to manage the social environment to maximize her comfort.

After a few moments Courtney laughs triumphantly, before holding out her hand to Victoria. Inside is a fresh pack of cigarettes, unopened. They're even her brand.

The green-eyed queen blinks at her, confusion surely evident on her face. "Court… you don't even smoke."

Courtney just shrugs and gives her an obsequious smirk, her blue eyes shining with delight as she bounces the pack in her outstretched palm.

While Taylor very often takes on the role of Victoria's emotional anchor, Courtney has always excelled at anticipating objective-based needs. Digging up dirt on someone who has pissed her off. Writing term papers for her. Or, in this case, making sure to carry around cigarettes for no other reason than to have them when Victoria desperately needs one.

Victoria realizes that this is probably borne of an unhealthily obsessive desire to please her. A desire that she has, indeed, cultivated and nurtured by alternately giving and withholding affection to mold the girl into what suited Victoria best at the time. Which, she now guiltily acknowledges, is no way to treat a friend as good as Courtney strives to be.

As much as the black-haired beauty in front of her was trying to get a laugh out of her earlier by joking about "eating her out", Victoria knows that there was, in fact, a kernel of truth to the suggestion. She's fairly certain that if she asked it of her, Courtney would seamlessly transition into meeting her sexual needs as well… even if girls don't do anything for her.

The thought makes Victoria's stomach turn a little… don't get her wrong, Courtney is hot as fuck. She wouldn't dream of kicking her out of bed if the circumstances were right. But the idea of being offered sex out of some twisted sense of obligation sounds like the most depressing situation she can imagine right now.

The couple of encounters with Taylor a couple summers ago were already skirting dangerously close to that line, which was part of why Victoria ended it when she did. Now she realizes that she also did it out of fear that her dropping a nuclear bomb on the relationship, which Victoria always inevitably did if how things ended with Max are any indication, would destroy one of the few real friendships she has… even if she wasn't willing to acknowledge it as such, at the time.

Victoria does intend to change the dynamic between the three of them, to ensure they know she doesn't see them as mere servants who exist to suit her whims. For now, though, she is just going to allow herself to be supremely grateful for Courtney's foresight and preparedness. Greedily snatching the pack from the girl's palm, she tears it open in a flash and digs one out.

Upon lighting it she closes her eyes and takes a long, deep drag, savoring the cool burning sensation as it's drawn through the filter pressed between her lips and swiftly travels down her throat and into her lungs.

After all the stress and bullshit she's been through since the drive back to Blackwell, this may very well be the best cigarette Victoria's ever had.

Exhaling the plume of smoke in a slow, satiated sigh, she takes the cigarette between two of the fingers in her right hand, idly toying with the pink smear of lipstick left behind on the filter with her thumb in a way that makes the orange coal dance up and down on the other end.

"Oh my God, Courtney, you so deserve a raise for this. You're literally saving my life right now. Whatever I'm paying you: double it."

The brunette gasps as though incensed at the very suggestion. "But you're not paying me ANYTHING right now!"

Victoria smirks and gives her a playful shove on the shoulder with her free hand.

"Fine, triple it then."

A couple of minutes later as they are approaching the main entrance to the swimming pool area, it finally hits Victoria like a brick to the face. This wasn't supposed to be just any party… this was going to be her and Max's debut social event as a couple, the Queen of Blackwell putting her Royal Consort on display for the world to see. It's hard for her to imagine that it was literally just over one day ago that Victoria was sitting right over there under that tree, surrounded by friends and ready to ask the girl at her side if she wanted to make it official. If that Victoria had known just how badly the next twenty-four hours were going to blow up in her face, she'd probably have ran screaming all the way back to Seattle.

Thinking of that perfect golden hour makes her throat constrict tightly, and she slowly brings herself to a stop. When her companions turn to face her with questioning looks, she gives them a sweet smile, doing her best to keep her voice from quavering as she holds her cigarette aloft.

"I'm… just gonna finish this real quick. You two go on in, I'll just be a minute."

The pair share a knowing look before turning back to her, and it seems like Taylor is maybe going to say something but Victoria has already done an about-face and started marching off a few feet away. She pulls a tissue from her purse and tilts her head upward to stare at the clear night sky while willing away the moisture pooling behind her eyelids.

For just a moment, there actually appear to be two brilliant full moons staring back at her like huge, glowing eyes. After blinking away her tears, dabbing at her own eyes all the while to ensure that none of the liquid escapes to ruin her mascara, she looks up again. This time there's only the one moon floating above her, standing like a solitary sentinel amongst the stars.

She strongly considers calling this whole thing off. She could just head on back to her room and drink herself stupid with her own alcohol supply if she wants. Or pop a couple pills and pass out, hopefully making it through the night and as much of the next day as possible before she's finally forced to get up to face this shit again.

Or maybe just swallow her pride and her guilt and her whatever else she's got going on in her head right now and knock on a certain someone's door.

"Hi, remember how you said if I didn't go to the party you'd do anything? Well… is that offer still open…?"

It wouldn't even be about sex. Right now, she'd love nothing more than to have someone hold her tight while she cries herself to sleep.

By the time her cigarette has nearly been worn down to the filter, however, Victoria thinks she's regained enough control of her emotions to face the party. Heaving a final, smoky sigh, she tosses the butt on the sidewalk and crushes the dying coal with a well-placed heel. Starting back for the pool entrance, she probes under her eyes with the tip of her pinky. Make-up seems to be intact, so at least she managed to do something right.

Of course, Taylor and Courtney did not go on in to the party like she asked them to, and are instead standing just off to the side of the gymnasium's glass doors. Her friends are having an animated conversation, and though they seem to be trying to keep their voices low, it's not quiet enough that Victoria can't pick up part of their conversation as she approaches.

"… saw her heading for the stairs with her Mom and Dad, I guess. She was definitely upset. Her Dad was carrying a suitcase, too… do you think she's…?"

"… she goddamn better not come back here if she knows what's good for her. Next time I see her 'busted Taylor Swift'-looking ass I swear to God I'll smack the smug right off her… Oh, Hey Vic!"

Courtney and Taylor both look up at her, the nervous twitching of their face muscles doing nothing to hide the fact that they'd just been talking about Max.

Victoria just gives them a coy smirk as though she didn't hear a single word. "What? Are you sluts planning to hang out here all night or are we gonna fuckin' party?"

This time it's a relieved smile that passes between them, before Taylor holds out an inviting hand. Taking it in one of hers, Victoria takes one more deep breath before pulling open one of the heavy doors. Her green eyes are drawn to the giant banner plastered over the entryway.

The End of the World, huh?

Bring it, bitches.

Blackwell Academy: Swimming Pool

Bypassing the line that has stretched out to just inside the entrance, proper, Courtney nods over in the direction of the coat check station before making a beeline for it. While it's hard to make out faces from this distance, with the only light source being a dim red strip of back-lighting, Victoria thinks she can see a familiar looking boy leaning on the counter, chatting up the girl manning the station behind it. As they get closer, the boy looks up and stands excitedly, holding a red solo cup up in the air in salute.

"Heeeeeeeey if it isn't Victoria Von Doom and her Doom Bots! Welcome to the End of the World ladies!" Warren calls out enthusiastically, though he does seem to be slurring his words slightly. He's wearing a white tee over a longer-sleeved gray undershirt and a pair of jeans, and while it's not quite Victoria's idea of getting dressed up for a party of this caliber, his clothes at least look freshly pressed and refreshingly absent of Star Wars characters or Cheeto and soda stains.

"Hi Victoria!" the always hoodie-clad Stella Hill calls out chipperly from behind the counter, making it perfectly clear why Warren is hanging out here instead of inside the party proper. Looking to her companions, she follows this up with a somewhat more neutral "Hey Courtney!" before ending with a noticeably flat, just this-shy of icy "hi Taylor…"

"Heeeeeeey Stella! Heeeeeeeey Warren!" Taylor cries excitedly as she jogs toward the pair, making sure to give the boy's lightly wavy brown hair a little ruffle upon arriving. If she notices the glare this earns her from his girlfriend, who is standing less than three feet away from her, she doesn't show it on her face. Despite appearances to the contrary, Taylor is not, in fact, 'Miss Steal-Yo-Man'… she's just a shameless flirt who is seemingly oblivious to any negative attention that might garner from other people's partners.

"Graham. Hill." Victoria gives the couple a curt nod each. The two of them have been dating for the better part of a month now, ever since she and her cronies gave Warren a not so gentle nudge into asking the girl out. Despite the fact that she only did it to keep the socially awkward young man from trying to stick his nose up Max Caulfield's ass all the time, it does warm her heart a little to see how happy they are together. Maybe even a little more than a little. Not that she would ever let on to this publicly, or anything… she does have a reputation to maintain, after all.

And before anyone asks "... why Stella tho", don't. There is no reason at all why Victoria specifically dropped that name to Warren, and even if there was, it's none of your fucking business, ok? Besides, who else in this school would he have actually had a shot with?

"What are you doing behind the counter, girl?" Taylor leans in toward Stella to make it easier for her to hear. "Ya'll should be out dancing!"

Seemingly off-put by her former glare target's unperturbed demeanor, the long-haired brunette stammers out "Oh, um… not here to party, unfortunately. Just working."

"Not working too hard, I see…" Courtney chides with a dismissive eye-roll that encompasses both of them, before holding out an expectant hand to the girl.

"Who even hired you for this anyway?" When Stella stares blankly at her hand for a moment too long, Courtney sighs in irritation and points at a clipboard in front of her.

"Oh! Sorry!" Stella murmurs sheepishly as she hands the clipboard over. "Mr. Jefferson hired me, actually. I guess he knows I don't have a lot of money, even with my part-time job and the scholarship, so…" she shrugs.

"Did, um… you guys have anything you needed checked in?" she adds, at least trying to look professional under Courtney's watchful glare.

"As if we would trust plebes with any of our shit!" Courtney mutters, her attention now mainly focused on the clipboard in her hand. Mostly to herself, she continues "I can't even believe Wells won't let me select personnel for these things, it's not like I don't handle literally everything else!"

Attempting to steer the conversation away from her friend's attitude, Taylor chimes in "Yeah, sure, but we can spare somebody from the club long enough to let Stella get in a dance or two, right Court?"

Stella's mocha-colored cheeks flush a bit as she looks down at her clothes. "Uh… thanks Taylor, I appreciate it, really. But I don't think I'm cool enough for this kind of party."

"No way!" Taylor chides, "Nobody cares about that. Besides, you're so smart and always busting your ass for the school, I think you earned a little time to cut loose!"

"Yeeeeeah!" Warren slurs, nearly sloshing his drink onto Taylor as he waves his hands animatedly. "You're, like, the coolest person here anyway!"

"Don't you think so, Vick Grimes?" he adds, turning to Victoria with a sloppy grin.

Choosing to ignore the question and the pop culture reference, the green-eyed blonde can't fully keep the laughter from her voice when she asks "Oh my God, Graham… are you drunk?"

"Yeah… if you count half a beer as drinking." Stella teases, poking her boyfriend in the side before affectionately adding "Lightweight."

For his part Warren just beams back at her, though whether his blush is from embarrassment or the 4 ounces or so of hard liquor coursing through his veins is anyone's guess.

"Hnnnngggh!" Taylor grunts. "You two are soooo cute together I could just die!"

Victoria just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the scene in front of her, finding it increasingly difficult to hide her own smile.

Yep. Definitely my good deed for the year.

"Wait, that's right!" Warren exclaims suddenly before rounding on Victoria again. "I was tryin' to tell you in class the other day, but y'know how Stella and I are goin' to the Planet of the Apes marathon this weekend at the drive-in? I managed to score a couple extra tickets if you think you and… and…" his voice trails off, and as he looks around in confusion Victoria's blood runs cold.

Shit! Of course, he doesn't fucking know yet. Don't you dare say it, Graham!

Taylor almost certainly would have spread the word amongst the others in the Vortex Club that Max as a topic was strictly verboten while Victoria was at the party, but she couldn't have anticipated that they'd have spent this much time outside of the VIP area already, and it's definitely not something that would have been disseminated to the common rabble.

Victoria grits her teeth, already feel her throat tightening as he locks her green eyes with his brown.

Don't you fucking dare! I swear to God if I cry tonight in front of Warren Graham, of all people, I'll have no choice but to jump off a building or something!

"Hey…" he continues. "Where's…"

"I know!" Taylor cries suddenly, grabbing Warren by the arm and giving him a firm tug in the direction of the party. "I bet your sweet girl won't mind if I steal you for a dance or two… right, Stella?"

Stella pauses, eyeing the both of them dubiously before answering through gritted teeth. "Um… I guess not. Have fun you two!"

The glare she gives Warren clearly communicates exactly how little fun he is allowed to have. To his credit, the way the blood seems to drain from his face as Taylor drags him off implies he received her message loud and clear, drunk or not.

Stella watches the pair disappear behind the curtain separating this area from the party itself, before turning a quizzical eye of her own on Victoria. "So… anyway, where is M—"

She's startled into silence by Courtney's fingers snapping mere inches in front of her face. Before she has time to react, the girl is shoving the clipboard toward Stella and pointing an angry finger at some line item or another. "Since you're working soooo hard tonight, Hill, I'm sure you can explain this to me?"

Victoria heaves a sigh of relief as the girl scrambles to try and figure out what Courtney's referring to. For the second time this evening, she's forced to acknowledge how little she deserves having friends as good as these.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Victoria finally decides to follow Taylor and Warren through the dark curtains and into the party. On her way, however, she decides to give Courtney a playful pinch on the butt through her skinny jeans, causing the girl to yelp in surprise and drawing everyone's attention.

"Hey!" She calls after Victoria, still rubbing her sore backside. "Don't start what you can't finish, Chase!"

Victoria turns and gives her a grateful wink, chuckling ruefully before she disappears behind the curtains.

She's immediately assaulted by strobing lights and a crush of bodies as honeys in bikinis and dudebros in swimming trunks and jorts who make Warren look over-dressed jam the poolside. Nearby some idiot narrowly avoids killing people when he does a cannonball mere inches from their heads, to the resounding cheers of those he just put in harm's way.

The idea of making her way through this gauntlet to the VIP section, the secluded area behind the stage at the far end of the pool designated for Vortex Club members and approved guests only, does seem more than a little daunting now that Victoria has found herself bereft of both her escorts for the evening. She briefly considers hanging back to wait for them, or pulling them away from what they're doing.

But she can see Taylor nearby, dancing away while cackling like a madman at Warren as he drunkenly tries to pull off his best 'Robot' moves. She's having a great time by the look of it. And while Courtney was mainly just micro-managing any and every miniscule task that caught her eye, that was her idea of fun too. Victoria didn't want to interrupt either of them for something so stupid… they had already done so much just to get her here tonight, after all. Besides, she's not an invalid or anything.

So, Victoria Chase pulls up her big girl pants, takes a deep breath and starts moving forward. After the first few steps, it almost started to feel easy. Almost.

As focused as she is on putting one foot in front of the other, Victoria definitely does not notice the pair of eyes that lock onto her from their vantage point in a dark, secluded corner of the room. Those same eyes intently follow her every step of the way until she breezes past security and into VIP area.

Having finally arrived at the relatively calmer scene that is the VIP section, with its soothing purple light and far fewer rando party-goers, Victoria makes a beeline for the bar. Taking a shot almost as fast as the bartender can pour it, she orders another while the burning liquid from the first makes its way down her chest and into her stomach. It's not until after the second shot is sent off in hot pursuit of the first that she takes the time to actually look around.

Nathan is no where to be seen, which is honestly a bit surprising. When Victoria bowed out the day before, this became his shindig after all. His opportunity to shine on his own, out from under the Queen of Blackwell's shadow. And, by all accounts, this party was off to an epic start… so why wasn't he here to bask in the glory of a job well done?

Oh well, there'd be time to track him down later. Continuing to scan the room, she spies Hayden behind her, zoning out on a couch with a cutie under each arm as usual. Logan is nearby, chatting up some hanger-on or another.

Dana Ward – slutty cheerleader extraordinaire – is busy ho'ing up the small darkened dance area behind the stage, dancing and gyrating with her bra straps visible and tits hanging out like the walking stereotype that she is. Her dance partner, a skater burnout named Trevor, is twitching and thrusting in a manner that could only be called "dancing" in the loosest sense of the term, and could more accurately be described as a rave-induced epileptic seizure. He was honestly making Warren back in the main pool area look like Dirty Dancing-era Patrick Swayze.

On the opposite side of the room, Juliet is on another couch, busy proving that she has approximately zero sense of self-worth by hooking up with Zach despite having caught him sexting another girl earlier this week.

Of course, the 'other girl' was, in fact, Victoria herself… but to be fair, she had done it as part of a prank to make Juliet think he was sexting her best friend, Dana. Sure, it perhaps was not her finest moment, and honestly, she wouldn't touch Zach with a ten-foot pole even if he was the last hard body left in Arcadia Bay. But she and the girls had gotten a good laugh out of both Juliet's epic meltdown outside Dana's door and Zach's… unique ideas of what constitutes sexy talk, so all in all it had been worth it.

Besides, Juliet did start this little feud by putting out that hit piece article in the school paper likening the Vortex Club to a cult, and Victoria couldn't just let that slide, could she? Seriously, Juliet is a fucking member of the club, and happily reaps all the benefits that entails, so... Hypocrite, much?

Victoria is another couple of shots in before Taylor makes her way over to stand next to her, and she can feel the warm buzz of the liquid courage swirling in her brain as the sweet girl lays a cheek on her shoulder and asks how she's doing. She lies and says that she's doing ok, she's having fun, but the look in her friend's eyes tells her that she's not quite buying it.

After some cajoling, Taylor manages to drag her away from the bar long enough for a quick dance, which does get her blood pumping and earns a few laughs… mostly from the pair of them trying to dodge whatever lewd cheerleader body parts are flung in their direction when they accidentally meander too close to Dana and Trevor's spot. Afterward they make their way over to one of the couches right next to the bar, where they each get a drink to nurse while chatting about random bullshit. A few people walk over every now and then to ask how it's hanging, but for the most part everyone does a good job of allowing her to chill.

Courtney does pop in a few times to check in and hang for a few minutes, but it's never long until some party crisis or another rears its ugly head to draw her away.

Victoria's actually starting to feel pretty loose after a while. Not quite numb or to the point of forgetting all the crap she's gone through on this seemingly month-long day, but at least to the point where it's easier not to care so much. It's not long after that when the familiar curly-haired and constantly vaguely pissed-off face of Nathan Prescott appears from the door to the VIP-claimed restrooms that also serves as a rear exit out of the gymnasium.

Victoria lays her hand on one of Taylor's, slurring just a bit as she speaks. "Hey… thanks for keeping me company, but you can go take over for Stella for a while. I know you want to."

Taylor looks conflicted. "Maybe, but… I think it'd be better if I stay with you?"

Victoria smiles and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. "Go. I'm good. Besides, Nathan's here and I haven't talked to him since… you know."

Taylor's eyes widen with realization at that, but she continues to give her friend a searching look for a long moment afterwards. Finally, she nods, and gives her a quick hug.

"Call or text if you need me, ok? I'll be like thirty yards away and have my phone in hand the whole time."

"I will. Au revoir."

With that she gets up from the couch and heads toward Nathan as he's having an animated conversation with Logan

"and THEN she said… Vic?!" Nathan looks up in shock when he notices her approach, his mouth dropping open and his cheeks draining to white. He looks like he's literally seen a ghost or something.

"Nate…!" Victoria assumes that his expression is in response to the hurt brewing on her face at what she's about to tell him. She's been keeping it together pretty well tonight, but now, with her resolve inches away from cracking, she rushes the last few feet to throw her arms around him.

He returns her hug, all the while trying to pull back enough to get a look at her face. She can hear a thin layer of panic in his voice. "Vic… you're not supposed to be here. You said you wouldn't be here!"

"Oh, Nate…!" is all she can bring herself to respond before burying her head into his neck and sobbing.

"I'll kill her…" Nathan mutters, rage evident on his face as he bends down to place his elbows on his knees, staring a hole in the floor from his perch on one of the stools in front of the bar. "I swear to God Vic, I'm gonna fucking kill her for hurting you like that…"

"Hey… stop that!" Victoria takes time from dabbing at her eyes in an effort to prevent a second make-up catastrophe in as many days. She feels like she's doing a decent job of it, but is certain Courtney would have kittens if she could see what she's let her artistry come to.

She grabs Nathan's chin and forces him to look at her, tapping on his cheek lightly with her fingers when she sees that his eyes still have that faraway look. She pats his cheek again, slightly harder this time… not quite a slap, but leaving enough of a sting to finally get his attention. She's not trying to hurt him at all, but she's seen enough of his meltdowns by this point to know when she needs to pull him out of a spiral.

"Look… what Max said fucking sucked, ok? But it's not her fault she feels the way she feels and… I do still care about her. If you hurt her it'll hurt me, and you don't want to do that, right?"

His face goes ashen again at that, and he looks like he's fighting the urge to throw up. But after a few moments he nods lamely, and turns his focus back to the floor, his left leg jangling up and down against the lower rung of the barstool.

Victoria orders another round of shots before laying her head on his shoulder. They sit in silence for several minutes before he finally speaks, his voice husky like he's holding back tears.

"How did everything get so fucked up…?"

She rubs her hand in slow circles along the small of his back, finding it vaguely amusing that she's the one comforting him after her break-up. But that's just how things usually go when it comes to Nathan.

She snorts. "I know, right? Been a hell of a long day if you ask me."

"It's been that way a lot longer…" he mutters, so quietly she can barely hear it.

There's another long, tense silence until he finally looks up at her, his eyes darting around wildly and his pupils blown.

"Vic… let's just go. Right now, get in your car and fucking drive, leave Arcadia Bay and our shitty parents and all the rest of this fucking bullshit behind."

Victoria goggles at the boy as though he's grown a second head. "Uh… what the fuck are you talking about, Nate? Are you high or off your meds or whatever? You sound manic…"

"No, I'm serious! I've got cash, we can just pick a direction and—"

"And what, pull a Rachel? Christ, Nate, I had a bad break-up. I'm not that fucking dramatic."

"Vic, listen! I—"

But she's not listening anymore, as the sight of the curtains being pulled aside again makes her sit up straight, her breath catching in her throat. Or rather, it's the person walking through the curtain that has this effect on her.

Mark Jefferson, looking as dashing as ever with his perfectly coiffed hair, professional attire, fashionable glasses, and neatly trimmed beard. He nods to a few of the students as he passes by on the way to the back of the DJ's stage.

He is here, of course, to announce the winner of the Everyday Heroes contest. The national photography contest he'd encouraged everyone in his class to submit entries for, the winner of which would be flying out to San Francisco tomorrow afternoon, Jefferson at her side, to hobnob with the other regional winners and luminaries of the art world. It is the kind of thing that can launch a young photographer's career.

Now, Victoria had not forgotten about the contest… not by a long shot. It was more that she had written it off, because it was a foregone conclusion to everyone who was going to win.

Max Caulfield.

Victoria's entry was a great shot. She'd managed to capture a middle-aged doctor, sitting in a waiting area with his head in his hands, forlorn after having just lost a patient. She was proud of it. It was the kind of shot that could have won in most any other school. But it was also the kind of shot that just about anyone could have taken, if they were in the right place at the right time.

Max's entry was nothing short of amazing. At first glance it appears to be just another selfie, save that her back is turned to the camera and the it's being taken in front of the photo wall in her room. But on closer inspection, one realizes that the focus is not on Max herself, but on the numerous photos she had taken of the residents of Arcadia Bay, implying that they are her heroes for leading lives that inspire her to create art.

It also doesn't hurt that Jefferson seems to think Max's shit smells like roses... though to be fair, nearly everyone else does too. Including Victoria up until about four hours ago.

Though she does suffer from some degree of professional jealousy, she is happy for Max and more than willing to cheer her on.

...

On the other hand… the winner hadn't actually been announced yet, and if there was ever a time for the universe to throw Victoria Chase a bone, wouldn't it be now?

Before she knows it, she is on her feet and gliding toward Mr. Jefferson, leaving Nathan spluttering in surprise behind her and plastering her best professional smile on her face. Once they make eye contact, Jefferson calls out a cheerful greeting.

"So, you made it, Victoria! I was starting to worry, since you weren't in class today and it seemed as though no one had heard from you."

It strikes her how similar Jefferson and Max are, aside from the obvious differences such as Max being approximately the height of a garden gnome and Jefferson not having a vagina. They are both brunettes, strikingly beautiful, and passionate, ambitious photographers. She attempts to channel some of that feeling into her response.

"Oh, that is so sweet of you, Mark." she beams at him and reaches out to gently touch his arm. "I was called away on an… urgent matter, but I do apologize for not touching base with you today."

He pulls his arm away from her touch, glancing around the room at the other students nearby.

"I understand, but let's stick to 'Mr. Jefferson', Victoria." It could be the alcohol talking but she thinks she can hear a silent 'for now' in his voice. It does raise her meager hopes just a hair.

Looking around again, he asks the question that she'd successfully dodged twice already today, but apparently the third time is indeed the charm.

"So, where's Max?"

Those tiny hopes of hers are dashed upon the all-too-familiar rocky shores of depressing reality before even having a chance to leave their infancy. Her response comes out more petulant than she would have liked.

"… Why? I suppose she's the winner, then?"

Jefferson flashes her a smug grin. "Now, now, Victoria. You wouldn't ask me to spoil my big announcement, would you? I only ask because I hadn't heard from her today either, and the two of you are… so close."

With the way he says those last two syllables, he may as well have been stabbing her straight in the heart. It makes Victoria want to punch that grin right off his face.

Instead, she defaults to HPD checklist #10, 'Inappropriately seductive behavior'. She leans forward and speaks in a voice low enough for just the two of them to hear.

"Forgive me, Ma-Mr. Jefferson. I'm just so excited at the thought of seeing my work on display. You know, if I did win, we would have to spend a LOT of time together in San Francisco… That could be… fun, don't you think?"

Ooooh, nice one, Vic. Hey why don't you offer to suck his dick while you're at it?

She's pretty sure the disgust she feels inside is reflected on his face.

"I'm going to think you didn't just say any of that."

She knows she's made enough of a fool of herself already, but a flare of anger rises up to overwhelm the rest of the murky pool of emotions tumbling around in her alcohol-fueled brain.

"Whatever." She huffs, and turns to stalk away. "Hope you enjoy your trip, then. Shame you'll be going solo."

He reaches out and grabs her shoulder to stop her, his eyes hardening. "And what's that supposed to mean…?"

Oh, sure. You don't mind touching a student in public when MAX is involved, do you?

She couldn't keep the sneer off her face if she wanted to. The anger is running full tilt now. It's always about Max fucking Caulfield, isn't it? Everyone's favorite manic pixie dream girl with the magic mouth who gets everything she wants without even trying. The perfect shots. The respect of their teacher. The adoration of everyone in this shithole town.

Victoria's heart, even though she never really wanted it in the first place. Victoria's body, when even that wasn't enough.

She meant what she said to Nate about still having feelings for her. She meant all the hateful things she said about herself in the showers after hurting Max the way she did.

But a part of Victoria knows that even if how she'd reacted to Max was wrong, she still hadt a right to be pissed. Courtney was at least half-correct: Max used her. For a whole month she strung Victoria along, knowing how Victoria felt about her, knowing that she was in love with someone else.

It got her in the Vortex Club. It got her dates at fancy restaurants and gallery showings at the Chase Space. It even got her one of the best lawyers in the Pacific North-West. Not that Victoria wouldn't have helped her regardless, she wasn't lying about that before… but that didn't change the fact that Max had conveniently waited until after Victoria bailed her out of the worst jam of her life before breaking things off.

Maybe that interpretation of events isn't fair to Max, but life sure doesn't feel very fair to Victoria right this moment either. Maybe she has a right to try to take Max down a peg, at least in their teacher's eyes.

"It's not my business to share." She snaps. "But... let's just say she hasn't been very "Heroic", lately. Quite the opposite, in fact. I doubt she'll be allowed to leave the state."

He studies her for an uncomfortably long time, his face expressionless.

"I'll… take that under advisement. Not that it will change the outcome tonight, the decision has already been made. But thanks for giving me a heads-up, regardless."

She rolls her eyes and is about to turn away again when he calls out to her again. "Hey, Victoria… maybe you should take it easy tonight, ok?" His face is hard as he gives a pointed nod in the direction of the bar, before shifting to offer her a kind, fatherly smile. "You look… tired."

With that he's turning and jogging up the stairs leading to the stage, to the sounds of cheers and cat-calls from many of the students on the other side. As she watches him go, she's struck by another similarity between Max and Mark, the two beautiful brunette photographers she's alternated pining for over the course of the school year.

His smile never seemed to reach his eyes, either.

…

Maybe Victoria really does have a type, after all.

"… I don't want to get in the way of the party, but it's time to announce the winner of the 'Everyday Heroes' contest."

Victoria stalks back toward the bar while Mark Jefferson's smarmy voice can be heard over the speakers in the background.

Wow, Vic. I guess we see how things turn out for the ones YOU truly-

"Shut the fuck UP!" she snarls aloud, not allowing herself to even finish the thought. This causes Logan to recoil as she passes by, holding his arms up defensively. She ignores him.

She'll have plenty of time to wallow in self-hatred later. Right now, she's pissed off, humiliated, and in need of a fucking drink.

"—Now this is the most important part of being an artist, sharing your art with—"

Nate is sitting on a stool facing the bar, with two drinks in front of him – one in each hand. He downs one of them as she approaches, staring sullenly into the other all the while as though it's a well he accidently dropped his wallet down into.

He still hasn't looked up by the time she stops next to him.

"Is that for me?" She reaches down to lay her hand on the glass.

He jumps at the sound of her voice, looking up at her with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. His face has taken on a greenish tint, and his skin looks clammy with a sheen of sweat budding up on his forehead. She doesn't know what his deal is tonight but she doesn't have it in her to care much right now.

"—The envelope please. And the winner is… –"

"Y-yeah…" he gulps, looking down at the glass. He doesn't release his hold on it, however.

"I think this fucking idiot mixed it wrong, though… let me get you another one."

He moves as though to dump the drink in the sink behind the bar.

"—Oh my, what a shocker… Max Caulfield!"

Loud cheering can be heard from the other side of the stage, mixed with some hoots and clapping from this end as well.

Victoria wrenches the glass from his grasp, sloshing some of the brown liquid out onto her hand and the floor in the process. "Like I give a shit" she growls, downing the remainder of the drink in one go.

Nate isn't looking at her now. He's just staring holes into his hands, clenched into tight fists on the bar in front of him. He probably doesn't want to see the look of defeat in her eyes.

Whatever. She grabs a tall, mostly full bottle of Vodka for good measure before flinging open the door that leads to the restroom and, beyond it, the girl's lockers.

"—Now, I understand that Max can't be here tonight. So, please allow me to say a few words on her behalf. When Miss Caulfield first strolled into my –"

Jefferson's voice is muffled as the door swings closed behind her, replaced by the loud BLOOPS of her phone blowing up. The lights are off in the locker area, and she takes the time to wedge herself in an especially dark corner between a row of lockers and the wall before pulling her phone out.

She ignores all of the message notifications save for the group chat between her, Taylor, and Courtney. After tapping to open it, she furiously types out a few lines of her own.

Sweet T – D: D: D: - 10/10 10:05 PM

Court – NO FKIN WAY!

I DEMAND A RECOUNT! - 10/10 10:05 PM

Sweet T – Vic, where r u? - 10/10 10:07 PM

Vic – Chill went back 2 dorm

Stay & have fun, need 2 b alone right now

Thx for tonight you two were great btw

Silencing phone so fuck off… xoxo - 10/10 10:08 PM

Victoria unscrews the cap to the Vodka bottle and takes two hard, gulping pulls. She's not really lying to her friends, she tells herself. She does intend to go back to her room. She just wants to get a good ugly cry out of the way here in her nice, dark hiding spot before sneaking out the back, and figures she can put a solid dent in this bottle while she does. She thinks she knows her limits well enough by now to gauge how deep she can go while still being able to stumble back to the dorms unscathed.

She also doesn't want them to drop everything and scramble to escort her. They've already gone above and beyond tonight and she wants to give them time to relax without feeling like they need to babysit.

Victoria's not sure exactly how long she sits there, drinking and crying and feeling sorry for herself.

All she knows is that the dizziness and nausea hits her waaaay faster than she expected.

In fact, she barely has time for her mind to register the fact that she's standing before the floor suddenly rushes back up to meet her head, and the entire world goes black.