September 2017
"Surely you're joking. For God's sake...you can't be serious."
Chloe stared hard, practically scowling at her fellow Alderman across the table. Pointing at her face with her forefinger, thumb extended out as if her hand were a gun, she all but growled out, "You tell me, Steven. Does this look like my usual expression of childlike whimsy and delight?"
For the past three years, Chloe Price served as Alderman-At-Large for Arcadia Bay. Initially drafted to the position as part of a grassroots write-in campaign, she threw herself into the job - part time as it was - with all the seriousness she could muster, despite initially having no idea what she should be doing. Under normal circumstances, she probably would have rejected the position outright; put out a small press release, thanking the voters, but politely telling them that they had to be out of their damn minds to give her any measure of power.
Max's sudden departure changed all that. In the wake of her exit to San Francisco, there was nothing left for Chloe, other than her construction job, and her mother and step-father. Max point-blank asked her to stay here. To do what she could, with whatever opportunities she was presented, to make Arcadia Bay a better place. It was the one sacrifice Max felt she could offer up, a desperate means to make amends to the town she blamed herself for wronging.
Thus, Chloe's political service became a tribute to the woman who owned her heart.
But she lost a fair measure of her happy exuberance, though she was always careful to sharpen her cynic's wit only towards those who deserved it. Whenever she met with any of the citizens she represented - and as an At-Large, that meant the entire town - she did her best to be as gracious and diplomatically accommodating as possible; it's not that she was a fake per se, but certainly she'd gotten increasingly better at wearing whatever masks a particular situation required. Making people believe in the verisimilitude and authenticity of what she was projecting. It was all just different versions of the same base person.
Chloe Price discovered, much to her shock and horror, that she actually had a talent for this political bullshit.
She made sure to personally vow to use her powers only for good. Or at least, her definition of it.
Before long, she started working towards her associates degree in Government from U of O Corvallis' online program, obtaining it last year.
Her outward image quickly evolved; no longer sporting skater regalia or a blue coiffure. These days, her hair was cut and styled into the wings of an elongated bob, dyed raven black. Flannel and denim gave way to leggings, leather skirts or pants, matching leather blazers and silk blouses. Face done up in kohl and black lipstick, ebony nails that looked long and sharp enough to cut diamond. Skechers slip ons and Doc Martins put aside, heavy cuffed pirate and witch boots taking their place.
'Business Goth' was how she referred to her new style. It was her own way of reflecting the loss of spontaneous joy in her life. Of rebelling while still remaining mostly palatable to the voters. To her secret surprise and delight, they ate it all up. The one underground newspaper in town constantly referred to her as 'The People's Punk Princess'. She was different and individualistic enough to appeal to the dreamer and the iconoclast, with a proven track record of results, stability and reluctant, realistic compromise that reassured your average voter on the street that Chloe Price could get 'bidness' done..
Her re-election last year went unopposed.
Despite her new exterior presentation, she was far from being a completely miserable crank, the kind of woman who brooded ceaselessly. She could still laugh, still joke. Be kind and loving, have passion for things great and small. But her true heart and her soul where elsewhere.
She couldn't be the old Chloe Price anymore.
That woman died at long last, on the floor of an old apartment. With the next Chloe's incarnation, her 'second act' began in earnest.
Tonight, she was facing down her perennial nemesis, Steven Exeter; a member of the old guard, with his salt and pepper hair, and hideously expensive grey business suit. One of the few who did well for themselves in the periphery of the Prescott's power and influence, he'd been Sean's...what was it?
Stockbroker? Lawyer? Accountant? Fuck all if I can remember what lacky role he's played. Maybe hoping to play again.
They'd butted heads, time and again, almost from day one. Chloe was often backed by Michelle Grant, her old science teacher, still working most of the time at Blackwell; Exeter's compatriot was Haim Toller, an older, conservative gentleman who lived his entire life in town, but occasionally surprised Chloe by voting with her and Grant. More often than not, however, the town council was deadlocked, leaving the beleaguered town manager, Christian Haydock, to break the tie.
To his credit, Haydock was a excellent technocrat; though not often willing to give in to Chloe's full demands, he likewise appeared practically immune to the usual corruption and petty dealings politics were rife with. Having grown up in Arcadia Bay, he returned not long after the storm, looking to help rebuild his childhood hometown. A civil engineer by trade, he was essentially perfect for his job, especially in the role of 'cooling saucer' for the polarized views between his most vocal Aldermen.
Still, there was only a single At-Large position on the council, and Chloe was more than happy to point out that she alone could claim to represent the wishes of the town as a whole.
Sometimes that argument actually worked.
Exeter sighed impatiently. "You're being incredibly unreasonable with your demands. This is an ideal opportunity for our town. Mr. Prescott has graciously agreed to return to Arcadia Bay..."
Chloe snorted, interrupting. "Graciously!?"
He frowned, raising his voice, "Yes. Graciously, especially in light of way that you viciously slandered him during his moment of personal tragedy..."
She slammed her first on the table. "Oh, give me a fucking break, Steven! Slander? Seriously? Which part was unfairly defaming that asshole? The receipts entered into evidence showing that he was bankrolling his son's many, many crimes, the school documents that proved he was leaning on Ray to cover his kid's public outbursts, or the sworn confession of Mark Fucking Jefferson to like...practically everything!? "
Exeter lost a large measure of his patience, and sighed heavily, "Alderman Price...might I remind you that Sean Prescott was ultimately acquitted of his unintentional role in the tragic events of four years ago? Mark Jefferson and Nathan were both found to be conspiring to embezzle funds..."
"Bullshit!" Chloe snarled out. "He had to know what was going on. You just don't drop hella cash like that without suspecting something."
"And you're hardly impartial!" Exeter snapped in return.
Chloe's eyes widened with disgust. "Oh yeah! Excuse me for being one of Nathan's victims! Excuse me for having friends that he either raped, or raped and then murdered! You find it strange this shit would fucking tick me off, it's because I'm a human being with a soul and a conscience!"
"Enough! Both of you! God...damnit." Haydock forcefully interrupted, holding up a hand between the two of them. "I swear, it's always the same song and dance with you two. If we could please get this back on track?" He turned to the man on his right. "Alderman Exeter, your argument? In two minutes or less?"
"Of course, Manager." Exeter pulled himself up to his full height, folding his hands together on the meeting table. "Sean Prescott acknowledges that his grief at having tragically lost his son, combined with being so grossly taken advantage of by the demented Mark Jefferson may certainly have caused him to act hastily three years ago. He has roots deep in this community, and is dedicated to reestablishing them. Given his past service to this town, his business acumen and considerable financial assets, I believe it is in Arcadia Bay's best interest to extend our most accommodating welcome. With all due respect, what's best for the Prescotts will be what's best for this town. If nothing else, they deserve the same...generosity that Alderman Price championed for her friend, Ms. O'Meara."
Oh, you asshole!
Chloe slowly bobbed her head side to side, dramatically rolling her eyes, and took a long breath, holding her tongue only by extreme force of will.
Did it hurt, Steven, when they extracted the decency from you? Or were you just born without any?
"Alderman Price?" Haydock inquired. "Your argument? In two minutes or less."
Chloe jumped right in, focusing her raging anger into laser-tight focus, eyes narrowing and occasionally darting between the other two men. "Manager, I'll be blunt: despite whatever positive influence Prescott money may have once had on this town, the fact of the matter is that Sean was a horrible member of this community. He used the family wealth to insulate his son Nathan from the consequences of his outrageous behavior at school, negligently bankrolled a criminal conspiracy, and then withdrew from this community when his resources would have been the most beneficial during our rebuilding efforts. Frankly, I think that was the plan all along: pull the rug out from under us, wait for us to disincorporate, buy the best chunks for a song, and the re-incorporate under his effective rule.
Not that Chloe had any actual evidence of this conspiracy, but it just made too much damn sense.
Wonder what he would have called his new fiefdom. Prescott Heights? Seansville? Suck My Dick, Arcadia Bay Oregon?
"Despite our losing access to his wealth as well as his...ahem...presence and force of will, Arcadia Bay is now experiencing a new renaissance. I submit to you that Sean Prescott now needs us far more than we need him. And he damn well knows it."
In this, there was probably no small amount of truth. Fortune chose to smile on Arcadia Bay, that much was obvious. Three years ago, an up and coming green tech company called AkashaDyne went looking for a radical way to demonstrate and gain positive media coverage for their revolutionary new high-efficiency solar arrays. Sold as packages coupled with licensed Tesla battery packs, The AD-3000 Helios system promised to create a highly distributed power mesh through the entire town, with significant off-grid capacity in cases of emergency. They offered to sell these packages to construction companies during the primary phase of the rebuilding effort at below cost if the town agreed to essentially turn themselves into a model community for Helios.
Chloe was naturally suspicious; the notion of Greeks bearing gifts ran through her mind more than once. She read up as much as she could on the system and the company itself. Used those initial first months on the town council to get AkashaDyne to make a good faith effort to allow their technology to be studied. She personally worked with their certified techs to install the system on a few demo houses. Personally met on several occasions with the CEO, Glenda O'Meara. Looked for any and all tricks, traps and gotchas in the proposed agreement.
And despite her best efforts to try and scotch the deal, to look for the poison pill, Chloe was forced to admit, that she'd found a rare visionary. Someone who, yes, of course, wanted to make money, but felt that a corporation had a civic duty to better the world with its products, and to behave in a reasonable - that was, non-psychopathic - fashion. O'Meara agreed with Chloe, that Arcadia Bay's destruction presented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to rebuild it from the ground up as the community of the future.
So Chloe took a chance; threw her support fully behind the agreement. Most of the houses and businesses constructed in town agreed to have the Helios system installed, with building guidelines and zoning laws that allowed for property tax breaks if new businesses that moved into town also agreed to join in.
It had the effect of making Arcadia Bay something of a 'company town'. Chloe wasn't thrilled with the notion; it seemed too much like trading one overlord for another, but the town desperately needed the money and resources, and some way to stand out in the world other than "worst disaster in Oregon history."
AkashaDyne turned out to be a splendid corporate partner; pleased by the overwhelming positive media response, O'Meara relocated her main production factory into a new industrial district in town. With orders now pouring in from across the country, the company made investments in upgrading the rail yard and the shipping docks. With such world-class facilities now at its disposal, Arcadia Bay was transforming itself into a new hub of the emerging green economy, the rare producer of American made goods, now shipping out across the country. With freshly-built infrastructure and a workforce that was becoming increasingly educated, more and more businesses were finding it an attractive place to relocate.
And as of last month, Arcadia Bay was now a net producer and exporter of electrical power for the rest of Lincoln County, creating a small but significant decrease in power costs.
Seeking to keep the momentum going after her first tremendous victory, Chloe spent political capital like it was going out of style: she pushed for small business development districts, by-laws and guidelines to help 'preserve the character of the community.' She'd be damned if the likes of Walmart and Starbucks thought they could just waltz in and homogenize the hell out of her town, turn it into just another gentrified playground for the rich and powerful. Her opposition was fierce, but Chloe still had the community at her back. She knew they might forget someday, trade away their hard earned gains for a mess of pottage, but for today, the middle class would find a fair deal in Arcadia Bay. This was more than appropriate, considering how much they had worked, sweat, and bled to make it all possible.
The hardest sell was convincing people to jump on the legal cannabis bandwagon; it was nearly defeated, but the town ballot question she pushed through to establish a "green zone", which allowed for a limited number of cannabis-based businesses, managed to take tentative root. Limited to a handful of tasteful bed and breakfasts, one high scale cannabis shop, and a vaporizer lounge. People's skepticism soon dissolved as Baby Boomers and college Millenials with disposable income flocked to the gorgeous countryside to get legally baked, flooding the nascent tourism industry with cash.
All the positive developments aside, many challenges still lay ahead: property taxes were still higher than state average, too many of the lowest income residents were getting pushed out, despite Chloe's best efforts to preserve a place for them, and there was increasing friction between the conservative "Old Bay" culture and the more liberal "New Arcadia" supporters. But in the three years since the tornado, dramatically dubbed 'Megastorm Azrael" by the media, all but leveled the town, Arcadia Bay was quickly becoming a blueprint for other communities to follow.
Concluding her argument, Chloe said, "Given his past behavior, we can only assume that unless we bind him to stringent terms, Sean Prescott will once again become a corruptive influence on our fair town. The package I'm suggesting, with significant affordable housing project ratios to compensate for his high end developments, the contributions to the community preservation fund, his agreeing to respect and contribute to the small business district, and his consenting to install Helios systems on all his business and housing units - because if he wants to join the community, he needs to pitch in again - all seem like a fair price to ask...for what is essentially us taking a chance and letting a snake back into the garden."
Tapping his steepled fingers together, Haydock leaned back, the wheels obviously turning over in his head, as he sought to weigh the arguments, come up with a balanced compromise.
After ten or fifteen seconds, he spoke up. "I'm inclined to agree with Alderman Price." He turned meaningful to her, and said, "To. A. Point." Glancing to Exeter, he continued, "Arcadia Bay is, for all intents and purposes, now a new community. And whether he thinks it's fair or not, his past actions do merit honest evaluation. I'm not blind, not an naive idiot. I'm sure Prescott would love to be back on top. If he wants to reach that goal, this town isn't obligated to give him a head start."
He held up a warning hand to Exeter, before the other man could complain. Fixing a steely gaze on Chloe, Haydock added, "But Chloe, there's setting an appropriate cost to the price of reentry, to weighing someone's past actions in the appropriate context...and then there's being downright punitive! Some of your demands are needlessly unreasonable. I'm particularly uncomfortable with this notion of outright forcing him to pay money to AkashaDyne if he wants to develop in this town. Frankly, what you're suggesting is practically illegal, given that no other new developer has had those kinds of restrictions placed upon them, not after the first phase of rebuilding was completed. It opens Arcadia Bay up to a potential lawsuit that we can't afford."
Damnit! He...he's got a point. I guess I still let my heart go faster than my head sometimes. At least where the issue of the Prescotts are concerned!
Haydock laid a hand down on the table. "I'll draw up some initial agreements. Steven, you need to deal with the fact that Sean's gonna have to pay to play. He gave up almost all his remaining goodwill the day he left this town to swing in the wind, and his history of abusing his power will count against him." And Chloe? We are not going to financially draw and quarter this man, either. We can only push it so far; if we turn him into a public whipping boy, it gives the town a bad name with the business community, which like it or not, he still has significant pull with. I suspect neither of you are going to be completely happy with the final product, and by that token, it'll probably be a decent compromise. So, are we done here?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah...yeah all right. I mean, don't give away the fucking store, Chris, but...yeah."
Her faith in the town manager had, except on rare occasion, been more or less rewarded. There were times they didn't see eye to eye, but 'fair' was definitely a descriptor she could comfortably apply to him.
Heh. Go figure. The old Chloe would be kicking my ass for 'selling out'.
Exeter was far less pleased, crossing his arms, and sighing once. "Fine. But let's not do anything we'll regret. After all." He glared at Chloe. "The hard working job creators of this community need to have something left in their pockets after funding Alderman Price's socialist pipe dreams."
Haydock rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and breathed out. "Jesus...Christ. Steven, give it a rest! Those 'socialist pipe dreams' just paid for half the cost of the new junior high." With that, he pushed himself up from his seat and walked out, signalling an abrupt and terribly informal close to the meeting.
Grant glanced around, then spoke up, "I propose we adjourn this meeting?"
"Ugh! Seconded!" Toller peevishly chimed in.
"All opposed? Alright folks. See you next week."
Chloe rose up from her chair.
She tried to wait until she turned fully away from Exeter before smiling.
See Steve-o, it sounds like a compromise, but in the end, I still mostly win. Had to intentionally shoot high to give Haydock some wiggle room. But I'll be fucking damned if you assholes ever take over MY town again!
Chloe leaned back at the desk in the small office she shared with Grant, propped her booted feet up, and placed the tip of her flashlight sized personal vaporizer up to her black painted lips. Taking a luxurious drag, she breathed out a heavy cloud of mist, briefly causing the room to smell like chocolate and menthol.
"Believe a small and petty man once said: 'If this were a dictatorship, it would be a heck of a lot easier...as long as I'm the dictator. Heh heh heh.'"
Grant shook her head with disdain, though she still gave a smile. "Oh Chloe. I'm glad you're on our side. I know you say that sort of thing in jest but...don't let it get to your head, okay?"
Taking another drag, Chloe smiled, bending back until her head was almost upside down as she looked at the other woman. "Yes, Obi Wan! We must not fall to corruption!"
Laughing at this, Grant was trying to finish up some of her paperwork as quickly as possible. "Huh. Still...have to admit. The thought of Sean Prescott squirming, and having to actually face the consequences of what he did to this town, how he ran it like his own personal domain." She shook her head again. "I should probably worry about you corrupting me. Never been a fan of your brand of smash mouth politics, even though you've often got the truth on your side - but you seem to be making it work. For now."
"Come to the Chloe Side." the now former blunette playfully droned. "We have cupcakes!" She paused, and then rose back up in her chair. "But no sweat, Ms. Grant. Believe me, I appreciate you keeping me grounded. And it's not like we always win. Look at what happened with the security cameras going into Blackwell. Ah...sorry I had to stay out of that fight."
"Hmmmm. First off, Chloe, it's Michelle now. I appreciate you feeling like you have to show me that measure of respect, but I'm not your teacher anymore. Second..." she sighed heavily. "That whole argument was lost the moment Blackwell made the mistake of allowing psychopaths to run around with a free hand." She shook her head sadly. "Your father...he may have had a point, damn him. We lost the battle, but there's still the war to fight."
"Yeah." Chloe breathed out. "The never ending struggle between good and evil. Hmmmph." She looked up instinctively, towards the framed picture of Max up on one of her shelves.
Wish you could have seen it, Max. Wish...you could see how we're doing now. It still hurts, you telling me to stay here...but maybe you had a point. Fucking hell, but maybe you had a point.
"So," Grant said, disrupting Chloe from her reverie. "How is she?"
"Huh? Wha? Who?"
The alderman-slash-science teacher gave Chloe a meaningful look. "You know who. Max. I swear, Chloe. Explain to me again why you're still here, and she isn't? Or why you're even here at all? You two were practically a real life fairytale romance. Best friends since childhood, come together in the wake of tragedy. I...I understand she had difficulties afterwards. Lord knows, I empathize...but...but you two are still talking at least? Please tell me that much is happening."
"Ummm...yeaaaah. Yeah. We are. Believe it or not."
That was much true, for the most part. They'd stayed in close, almost daily contact for the first six months. Still devoted to the notion of getting back together, that Max's absence was just a temporary arrangement, a way for her to heal, get her head on straight. That eventually, she'd come back to Arcadia Bay, ready to be together once again. Better adept at putting to rest the guilty ghosts of the past.
But the inevitable eventually occured. Max and Chloe both became tied up with their various lives. Their heavy school workloads; Max with her project trips, Chloe with having to hold down two jobs while living with her parents in order to afford school while saving up money for the future. While Chloe kept her social media presence to a carefully controlled and narrow range owing to her political career, Max blossomed with a vengeance. Chloe devoured all the developments voraciously, as she watched something truly remarkable happen from afar.
Max was thriving. Making friends, finding acclaim. Academic triumph, artistic respect. She seemed to meld into the weft and warp of San Francisco. Their contact diminished as the years rolled on. Phone calls became less frequent, before stopping entirely. The time between contact increasing ever onward.
And then, six months ago, Chloe suddenly reached a single, inescapable conclusion.
I've lost her. I've lost her to San Francisco. She is...
...my angel. One who's finally found her Paradise.
"Oh really?" Grant said. "How long since you two last talked?"
"Three months. Three months ago, she ah...yeah...I got an email." Chloe answered.
Three months earlier, Max began to reach out to her anew, with increasing frequency. At first, testing the waters. Asking pointed questions. Did she miss her? Was she seeing anyone? Maybe they could...?
"She asked me to maybe think about coming out, and visiting her in San Francisco."
"Oh child, and you're still standing around in this town why?" Grant asked incredulously.
Taking yet another draw from her vaporizer, Chloe blew out, "She's back where she belongs, Ms. G. My angel is soaring. It...it's better that way. I always prefered to watch her from below. She uh...she was always the...I don't know how to say it? Destined for greater things? More talented? More pure of heart. Stronger, though it took her a while to remember that."
She took her feet off the desk, and wheeled around to meet her former teacher, eyes forward. "I mean, sure...I've done okay for myself. Honestly? Better than I ever imagined. But...ah...my trajectory is kind of a slow one. Maybe someday I move on. Maybe Chris takes me under his wing, and I find another city in need of a manager after he tells me his secrets of how not to kill people who disagree with my superior logic." She winked at that.
Continuing, Chloe opined. "But me and Max back together?"
Her heart ached, protesting the pragmatic conclusion that Chloe recently reached.
I will always love you, Max. Always. Love is why I'm letting you go. Love is why I haven't bothered answering your emails. Why I'm keeping you at arm's length. Even...even though it's fucking killing me!
"She can only pull me up. And more likely, I can only pull her back down." Chloe bowed her head, softly concluding Gotta let her fly, Ms. G. Gotta let my angel fly."
Grant snorted in mock disgust, tilting her head to the side and crossing her arms. "Chloe?"
"Yes'm?" she murmured, twirling the vaporizer in her fingers, trying to smile through the obvious ache eating away at her heart.
"You were one of my smartest students. I know the reason you got kicked out is because you let your life circumstances drag you down, and you refused to apply yourself as some kind of act of rebellion. That can happen to the best of us. But God's sake, for such a bright and talented girl, you can be such a dummy sometimes!" The older woman's lips pulled into a crooked smile, softening the blow.
Chloe sighed, rising up and taking the framed picture in her hands. She'd printed it out from one of the images Max put up last year on her Tumblr page.
So happy! Alive! More than I've ever seen her. I...can't...
"...can't risk it. Won't." she whispered. "I love her. I promise you I do. But if I put myself back into her life, it...would be selfish. Dragging her down to her doom. Won't do that to her." She placed the photo back. "Someday, she'll find someone else...someone who..."
The weight in her heart surged to an unbearable pain. Caused her hands to tremble.
"Look," Chloe began, in a tight, choked voice. "I gotta go. Just enough time to get home and changed for my real job. See you 'round next week, for chapter six million of The Struggle Eternal. I'll - I'll tell Max you said hi."
She started to quickly walk out, only to be stopped by Grant calling after her.
"Chloe! Look...you serious about this whole romantic martyrdom and self-sacrifice? Fine. But for damnit, level with her. Be honest. Don't go pulling this 'ghosting' bullshit, or whatever name tyou kids today have for this kind of behavior. It's not fair to you, and it's especially not fair to her!"
Shit. She's right. Oh fuck, she's so right.
"Hmmm...still giving out homework again, huh?" Chloe bowed her head, but smiled sadly. "Sure. I'll give you a report next week."
With that, she was gone.
Chloe smirked sadly as she plopped the helmet onto her head and mounted Jezebel, her custom painted black and purple Suzuki Hayabusa. Far and away, a ridiculously overpowered street bike for her commuter needs, but it was a hell of a lot of fun to drive! Opening the throttle up on the country highways and taking those turns...
Not to mention that it was all part and parcel of her public image. The People's Punk Princess simply didn't settle for a reasonable compact car. It was her one splurge over the past three years. Besides...
...not like I need the truck. I don't have anyone to give rides to. Not anymore.
She lost herself in thought as she sped along the streets, taking the long way home in order to give herself just a few minutes more to mull over what she was going to do, what she would say, with regards to this whole appointed task of letting Max go for her own good.
Maybe opening up with Shakespeare's Sonnet Fifty-Seven. It was a good one. She framed in her room not long after Max left.
Being Your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of Your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till You require.
She groaned softly, and muttered to herself. "Christ, Chloe. Don't do it in a letter. If you're serious, if you want to show Max that she'd be making a mistake by coming back here and settling for you...woman up, and talk to her personally!"
A phone call. She could handle that much. Actually having to come face to face with Max would probably break her. The dam of her heart was already fit to burst, protesting at the bitter, pragmatic decision she was making.
Has to be this way. Hell, for all I know, she's probably come to the same conclusion. Probably been asking me to come out there so she could tell me herself, because she still can't stand the thought of coming into Arcadia Bay. Too much pain for her here. Too many ghosts.
She rolled slowly by the animal shelter that Frank owned. People made jokes, about being surprised he wasn't running the pot shop, but he was out of that racket. Not that he was a straight-edger, but anything to do with the drug trade was too painful a memory now. Still, he had a particular set of skills that lay elsewhere, and applied himself in a successful fashion, in a job that made him happy.
Fucking good for you, man. Max'd...she'd probably like to visit you and the dogs, if nothing else.
Everywhere she passed, things were still bright, shiny and new. Rebuilding almost an entire town let people plan ahead. A lot of wires for phone, cable and electricity were now buried underground, resulting in a far less cluttered landscape. The new roads were still in good repair, the lightposts partially solar-powered and LED based. Hell, with the fiber optics alone, Arcadia Bay had better internet than most of the United States.
Definitely Arcadia Bay 2.0. So cool...
She glided onto the driveway at 44 Cedar Avenue. The house there was so similar to and yet entirely unlike the one it supplanted. The same basic shape, but with siding instead of paint, and a wider, more sloped roof on the south-facing approach for the solar panels. Still so much that evoked the old style and feel, and yet just enough that screamed "I'm different!"
Kinda like one of those alternate realities Max would tell me about.
These days, she was still living at home, saving as many pennies as she could while putting herself through school. Her parents...
Heh, did I just think of David as a parent? I guess so. Guess I have for a while...
...were cool enough to let her crash in the upstairs bedroom. At least until she was done with her Bachelor's degree in another year or so.
And then? She'd have to figure out what to do with the rest of her life. Just on her own, for the first time in...years. If not ever.
She slowly dismounted, took her helmet off, and glanced down in one of the side mirrors.
...don't...
A tiny voice inside her mind begged.
Chloe frowned, growling softly at herself. "Shut up, stupid me. Fairy tale endings...are for fairy tales!"
Ugh. That sounded so much better in my head!
Well, she didn't need to figure it out now. Especially when she had to be at her emotion best for her other job: the night maitre'd over at Exarch, the one really fancy restaurant in town.
Got the weekend coming up. I'll...I guess I'll psyche myself up and do it then. God...can't believe it's coming to this. But Ms. G. is right. I have to tell her I'm letting her go. She probably figured it out herself by now, but she needs to know for real.
Oh Max...
She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. "S-stop it. Okay. No more. Not tonight."
She reached into the mailbox and pulled out the usual generous helping of mail. Technically, she'd prefer her constituents to send letters to her office at the town hall, but some folks made a habit out of mailing them directly to her home address, and she'd not really been of the mind to dissuade people from that sort of thing. It was a point of pride that she made herself as accessible as possible to the voters.
She walked through the door and softly called out, "Hey - I'm home!" She coughed to clear out the catch that tightened up in her throat.
She walked over to the living room, half-engrossed in reading one of the letters, and going through her share of the bills, leaning down to kiss Joyce on the forehead. "Hey Mom." She glanced around, and murmured. "Huh. Where's the big guy tonight?"
Joyce returned a peck on Chloe's cheek and murmured. "Oh, David'll down in just a minute, dear" She rolled backwards, heading over towards the dining room table. In the years since being confined to a wheel chair, she'd become a real pro at getting around. It still galled her that she couldn't return to waitressing, but she found work at the local library. Supplementing that with learning medical dictation and doing that work freelance at home, she'd managed to carve out a new niche career for herself, just enough to keep her off total disability, which was a personal point of pride for her. But what most impressed Chloe was that she got into wheelchair rugby, playing in the one county team.
You'd never think my sweet old mom would mix it up in there, but damn does she get mean on the field. Heh heh.
"So, how'd the meeting go this week? You manage to keep fighting the good fight, baby?" Joyce asked.
Chloe sighed heavily, still engrossed in her letters. "God, Mr. Johnson, how many times I gotta tell you we can't make your hoarded piles of junk a historical landmark..." She blinked, and then gazed over. "Oh? Huh. Good. You know, Steven Exeter is still an asshole obsessed with helping his lord and master take over again, but I think Chris is more tired of his shit than he is of mine. Long and short, Sean Prescott's probably coming back in, but not without having to pay the piper bigtime. Ah. Not as much as I would have liked but..." She threw her hands up gently, shrugged. "Look, Mom, I can't fight everyone's battles single-handed. Folks have to decide if they want to keep the community they now have, or if they want to go back to the bad old days."
Joyce smirked. "Well, I'm sure you must feel like Don Quixote tilting against the windmills some days...except you actually get things done, darlin'. But...but." She held up a finger. "Arcadia Bay doesn't live or die on the shoulders of Chloe Price."
Chloe grumbled. "..know that, Mom."
Joyce rolled her eyes and laughed once. "Do you really now? Oh honey...just...people around here know the score. Memories may be short for some of them, but it'll be a long, long time before they forget what happened after that storm: who stayed and fought for Arcadia Bay, and who left. Have some faith in them. Maybe start thinking about a life for yourself, outside of this sleepy little town."
"Not so sleepy anymore, and sheesh! I'd almost think you were trying to push me out of the house or something!" Chloe said with a wink.
"What, and give up my own personal Alderman?" Joyce joked in return. "Ah, sounds like your step-father's coming down."
Chloe went back to pouring over the mail, acting disinterested as David walked into the living room. He was dressed in full police officer regalia, smiling quietly and held out his arms in presentation.
"Well, Chloe. Do you notice anything different?" he asked.
Still acting like she could barely spare him a glance, Chloe slowly drifted over towards him, keeping her eyes on the letter clutched in her hand. She paused for a few seconds, and murmured. "Uhhh...dunno. You ah...you do something different with the hair? New shoes?" She kept it going for another few seconds, knowing by now exactly just how far she could playfully tease her step-father without pushing too far. Suddenly, she tossed all the mail in her hands carelessly over her shoulder, her voice brightening up by leaps and bounds.
"Or maybe it's the fact that they finally made you a beat cop after all that hard work and effort!" She cried out, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
He beamed quietly, "The-the anger management and group therapy helped. A lot. And...and your Mom...and. You've been an inspiration for me, Chloe. Every time the going got rough, or I considered quitting, I just thought about how. How proud I wanted to make you."
"Well...mission fucking accomplished, Big D." She held out a fist, one arm still hugging around his waist. David bumped his fist back, and the two of them laughed.
"You know what sucked though?" Chloe remarked. "Chief Gordon 'accidentally-on-purpose' dropping the news in my lap three days ago while I was in my office going over the updated zoning regs for next fiscal year, and then I had to pretend I didn't know before tonight! Tell him he pulls that kind of thing on me again, and...and...I don't know. I'll give you his pension! That'll get him to take me seriously!"
David laughed lightly. "Whoa. Glad I'm on your good side!"
Chloe just smirked.
God. Look at us, David. Look at us now. How fucked up is it that we just about hated each other, a little over three years ago. Now, I almost feel like I could actually...actually call you Dad. I don't know how that would make you feel, I sure as shit don't know how it would make me feel but...
In much the same way that the events of the last three years had torn Chloe down and completely rebuilt her as a person, so too had her step-father experienced the same dramatic transformation. Chloe wasn't blind, however. In some other world, where such extreme and incredible circumstances never came to pass, chances were good neither of them grew up, evolved the way they did, and they probably still kinda sorta mostly despised each other.
So hella thin, that line between love and hate. How hard it can be to get some empathy and understanding going between two people.
Chloe realized that this was yet another shining example of how the storm, despite all of the death and misery that initially surrounded its wake, made things better in Arcadia Bay, and the lives of many who lived there. Sweeping away the rot, leaving behind the best.
Damn shame when the day comes, and people start to take everything we've built for granted. Geeze. Twenty three years old, and such a fucking cynic.
She blinked and glanced at the clock on the living room wall. "Oh! Shit...s-sorry. I really...I gotta get dressed, and ready to do my shift over at Exarch. But...but while I'm there, I'm totally gonna reserve a table for you guys this weekend, and we'll all get together and celebrate. My treat and everything, okay?"
"Chloe! I called ahead and talked to Janice. Reminded her that she still owes me a favor, so she's going to cover your shift tonight." Joyce answered.
"Ohhhhh geeze. Mooom." Chloe laughed softly, shaking her head. "Fine! We'll celebrate tonight then. Just let me get upstairs and put on something nicer, okay? It's Tuesday, so we should be able to get a table without a reservation.
"Alright. You go right on upstairs, Chloe." Joyce said, in a voice that sounded like she knew something more than she was letting on.
David joined in. "And take your time. Don't hurry back down on our account."
Gathering up the papers she earlier threw onto the ground, Chloe ascended the staircase to the second floor, muttering, "That...is weirdly and suspiciously specific guys. There a pony upstairs or something weird waiting for me? Because I'm over that phase now. Not that the idea of pony ownership still isn't hell-amazing."
Chloe opened the door to her room, once again engrossed in one of the letters, sent to her on pink kitten-themed stationery. She groped around through her closet with the other hand, realizing that she should probably be focusing on actually looking inside and finding her red blouse but she read on with increasing frustration and disdain.
"Oh for...fuuuuucks sake. Mrs. Johenkis, for the last time, cats can't legally vote! And...not about to push for a ballot question allowing them to...ugh!"
A voice playfully asked. "Long day at the office, dear?"
Chloe jumped; again, papers spilled over the floor, as she nearly fell into the closet.
"Holy! Fucking...shit!" She gazed over, unable to believe that she'd been so engrossed in her mail that she totally missed the fact that sitting on her bed, legs crossed, looking like the cat who ate the canary, was...
"M-max!? Oh my God!"
Chloe knew that there'd been some changes over the years. Still tried to follow her various social media accounts, even if it made her feel a bit like a creepy stalker type. But the reality of seeing her, in her room, in the flesh, was entire dimensions different than in online pictures.
Max rose up, letting Chloe get a good look at her. Earlobes full of rings, a nasal stud piercing. A sleeve tattoo down her left arm, of a morpho butterfly exploding out into smaller and smaller versions of itself, all different colors of the rainbow. Her hair cut into a fauxhawk, dyed blood red. A leather miniskirt, short but not obscenely so, along with high-mesh fishnet stockings, knee high Doc Martin boots. a black silk spaghetti strap top, and a red led leather bolero jacket. Add to that, all the rings, bangles and jewelry, and then fingerless gloves...
...she was a Goddess. A punk-hipster Queen of Queens. And it wasn't just the clothes she wore, or the incredible perfume that she had on, the one making Chloe feel dizzy and lightheaded in the best way possible. There was an aspect about her bearing, an aura really. She exuded confidence. She was both regal and charmingly accessible. Her easy, wide smile lit up the entire room, and it threatened to completely overwhelm Chloe's heart.
She could feel herself trembling, standing as she was so close to - could she still call Max her girlfriend? She was weak in the knees, waves of giddy delight thrumming up and down her body, and pooling between her legs and over her chest. She felt utterly helpless in the other woman's presence; glamoured, as if Max was more than human. Possessed presence truly supernatural.
"H-hi." was all Chloe could say, in a quavery voice.
Max reached out to stroke her face, and asked. "Do I get a hug? Or do you have secret service people who jump me if I touch you, now?"
Chloe wrapped her arms around her precious angel before she consciously realized what she was doing Inhaled her scent and struggled to stay standing.
Okay...this...this is not going well. At all. Also? This is absolutely the most amazing thing ever.
Max relaxed, nestling into Chloe's embrace.
"Annnnd...do I get a kiiiiiss?"
Chloe's cheeks flushed, and she pulled back a bit, stammering. "M-max. Iiii...ahhhh. Really glad you're here. So surprised. I mean, don't take it the wrong way, but what are you doing here?"
Max sighed gently, crooking her mouth to the side."I came here because it was obvious you weren't coming to me. I mean, I probably should have been more upfront about it. Really...really wanting you to visit." She paused. "Okay, with you, I probably should have written it down on a two by four and then hit you upside the head with it."
"S-so you came to me? G-good...I mean...this isn't too...too hard for you and...being back here? In Arcadia Bay?" Chloe stammered.
Max pulled back a bit, but held Chloe's hands in her own. "I'm...I'm doing alright. It's a challenge. But a good one. I spent a lot of hours, over a lot of years, working through my issues. But Chloe? I am back. Just like I said I'd be. Just like I was working towards. Always my goal. Us. Back...for you and me." She bit down on her lip, then asked softly. "Please tell me you haven't moved on?"
Chloe bowed her head, shaking it in tiny, quick motions. "No! No Max. I haven't. Not sure I ever could but...but I...I did have good reason for not responding. For putting off talking to you...funny thing, Ms. Grant, who says hi by the way, convinced me less than an hour ago that i needed to talk to you about it at last. And...and here you are!"
She brushed back the hair from her face, and softly concluded. "Weird, huh?"
Max hmmmed, glanced down at the floor for a moment, and then back up to her.
"So..." she let go of Chloe's hands, walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed, and patted a spot next to her.
"Come here, Che. Sit down. Tell me what's going through your head? I...I really need to know. Please?"
Chloe took a deep breath. It hurt through her chest, aching like dull blades across her ribs. As she drifted step by step, still not fully believing that Max was with her, in this room, she found herself agonizingly torn between two primal instincts: telling Max how desperately, truly, madly, deeply she still wanted her...and convincing her that she was absolutely the last thing Max needed in her life.
Oh God...how do I do it? I...I guess we're about to find out.
A/N:First off, check out the new cover image! My very first fan art like ever in my whole entire life! Awesome reader LilyGHall done did it, and I loves it! It's a political poster for Chloe, which should obviously make sense, given this chapter. If you want to see it in all its spendiferous glory, check out:
bit. ly/1S8yXwb
(You need to remove the space between the bit and the ly, because of FFN's stupid antispam code)
Also? I seem to have acquired a Tumblr. It followed me home one day, and now I can't get rid of it. I blame Rowanred81. The link I posted above will get you to it. Feel free to follow me, or something. If you have nothing better to do. I assure you, it will get little use ;)
Speaking of Ro I originally stole the name Jezebel from him, which I believe is what he named Chloes Vespa in Metamorphosis. I nearby declare that in all universes that Chloe has a motorbike, that is what she names it!
I wasn't originally planning on leaving this chapter on a cliffhanger but OMG, it just kept building and building and building. It was going to be way huge if I didn't put in a break somewhere. We'll get to the obvious hot monkey sex next time around ;-)
Have a good day/night!