The only people walking along the sandy pavement near the coast of the Arcadia Bay beach were a few elderly couples out for a morning stroll and the occasional family who kept a respectful distance away from everyone else like they valued their own solitude as much as others did.

Rachel was lying back on the sand, an umbrella randomly found in the garage sticking in the ground for shade next to her, casually flipping through the pages of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf . It was the second time that she had re-read that particular book, finding it stashed away in Chloe's room like everything else she had discovered lately. A part of her was finding herself again, fitting the pieces together in ways that were never planned. It wasn't like she had much with her that she had taken from her own house but that truthfully wasn't a bad thing after all. She had mourned the loss of a life, one that was hazy and painted with lies, where nothing she owned held much significance anymore. There were so many times that she had to let go and move on that it became second nature to embrace the impermanence of being alive. In more ways than one.

She had been at the beach for hours, to the point that there was most definitely a sunburn in order, feeling the most relaxed she had ever been in years. There were no notifications on her phone going off, aside from the occasional texts from Chloe that were becoming increasingly sporadic the longer the morning went on. She was staying relatively quiet just like the rest of the world had been that day. As for everyone else in Rachel's contacts, like some of the other students from Blackwell, they were either left in the dark months ago about whatever they thought they needed to know about her newfound life, or were blocked without an ounce of regret.

"...Rachel?"

The ocean waves that crashed ahead of her were numbing whatever was seemingly approaching her from the corner of her eye. The individual was blurry and a jumbled mess of colors, walking fast toward her. She didn't dare to look directly at them, pretending to be overly invested in her book but the words were quickly becoming meaningless. It was feeling like she was going to have to force an interaction that day no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. A mixture of dread and adrenaline, almost like a programmed fear response, was starting to appear in an overwhelming intensity. There were only so many people left in the town that would still have the audacity to approach her, she thought, especially after being publicly broadcasted to everyone and their dog across the nation. This shouldn't be happening.

Maybe it wasn't real—or she just heard her name being called out in her head—being so used to living around Chloe that the time away was starting to translate over. It could have been some kind of mistake. Or there may have been someone else named Rachel sitting in her general vicinity, but the last time she checked, there wasn't anyone within at least several hundred feet of her. Yet, the worst possible scenario was only starting to become clear. The footsteps against the sand were so close that it was obvious whose attention they were trying to get.

Without any other choice and trying her best to force her instincts to not engage away, she put the book down and looked up at the annoyance that decided to bother her. Instantly, the world seemed to crumble around her.

"What are you doing here?" She grumbled, trying to hold back the insurmountable rage starting to build up.

Frank Bowers. The worst possible person to talk to her in all of town was standing right there ogling over her exposed self who was dressed in a bikini, which now felt like an exposé as opposed to regular, everyday clothes. It was just some old swimsuit. It wasn't for anyone else but her. She instantly felt uncomfortable at the wandering eyes, not daring to follow their path.

"I live here. Sometimes." Frank was oddly nervous. Flustered. He scratched the back of his neck and turned around to point to his RV, even more tattered than it ever was before. The broken side window and weathered paint had never looked so bad. His breath, despite him standing up and still being a ways away from her, reeked of liquor. He had his fair share of day drinking in the past but this was recent. "Did you get my letter?"

"Not out of choice." Rachel spoke as boringly as she possibly could, hoping that he would leave and go away forever, but she knew that it wasn't going to be true. He was somehow going to twist everything she said to his advantage one way or another. The worst part of it all was that she had no support and no way of getting any now, especially with Chloe being hours away. She was alone in a situation that was likely not going to end well, and the reactions she would make towards anything he would say wouldn't be taken lightly.

The small bag filled with the clothes she wore on the walk over was looking all too appealing now. Frank was acting gross, a side that was always there, but sometimes in the past she would get needy enough and ended up liking the attention. Desperate times called for desperate measures back then. Now, it was only making her sick. She reached out to grab the shirt from the top of the pile and quickly pulled it over her head. It was a half-decent attempt at diverting the attention away from her.

"So…" Frank kicked some of the sand around with the front of his shoe, forming a circle in the ground as he waited awkwardly for Rachel to change. The tension was so palpable that he was having trouble formulating any thoughts, anxiously looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "What'd you think of it?"

He was practically begging for her to come back to him, hopelessly clinging on to the delusion so much so that the answer he didn't want was staring at him right in the face. Denial was a river in Egypt and no amount of truth was going to make him admit it out loud. Frank was and had been a mess for a while, not really knowing what he was doing—just living each day like he had no tomorrow. A messy combination of drugs, alcohol, and destructive choices seemed to lead to this moment. The letter written, now weeks ago, wasn't done under the guise of sobriety. It was important to him, in ways that couldn't have been expressed over a sheet of paper. He abruptly crouched down next to her and grabbed a hold of the base of the umbrella to steady himself, even though he wasn't getting an ounce of interest or care in the world back, watching as she now was struggling to put her skirt on.

"You know better than to pull that shit. Grow up." Rachel finally said under her breath, rummaging through the bag once more for her shoes. She was well aware that she shouldn't have to do this, but there wasn't another option. Frank ruined whatever peaceful morning she had left and now there was no going back. He was a potential threat who was unpredictable in his reactions to things; he was there for a reason, and was likely watching her from a distance for longer than she would have liked to have thought about.

The umbrella was shaking every time he moved slightly. She rolled her eyes.

"God, I love it when you're like this." Another shake. The metal clanged together in the loosely connected pipe, only sounding like some screw fell out.

If it was going to fall on her, there was only going to be one person to blame.

"I'd love it if you could leave me alone." Rachel snapped back, now at the edge of any feelings she was trying to suppress. There was something so annoyingly stressful about scrambling to throw on clothes in front of someone you had a complicated past with. As clingy as she never wanted to be, fuck, she really needed Chloe there. She didn't even need to say anything; just the thought of having her stand there beside her sounded comforting enough.

"No," Frank stated firmly, eyes so locked on to her that he was acting more like an animal in the wilderness than some guy wanting to talk. "We need to talk."

There was no getting out of this. Everything felt itchy and hot. Rachel slowly stood up and moved around the umbrella, beginning to take it apart in order to pack it away, as pretending that everything was fine wasn't going to happen for much longer. She really didn't know what to say to him. Sure, there were things that needed to be cleared up not just for the future, but for her own conscience, however, no words wanted to come out. Frank followed her moves and just stood there, not even offering an ounce of help. It was pathetic.

"About what?"

"About Price." The mere mention of Chloe's name caused Rachel to change her entire demeanor, making Frank slyly smile like he got the exact reaction he came there for. "What is she doing?"

"You're going to need to be a little more specific." A strong gust of wind came out of nowhere, nearly causing the umbrella to poke her in the eye. She paused for a moment to catch her own breath, holding one of the metal parts in her hand, and the now flipped up canopy in the other. This was all so embarrassing. The last bit of protection and concealment of the fact that Frank didn't know that Chloe was not in Arcadia Bay, was the last thing she had going for her. The only sliver of safety left. If he found out, well, she didn't want to think about what could happen.

"It's true, isn't it?" He sniffed, digging his hands in his pockets like it was awkward to talk about. Though for him, it was. "You're really back with her?"

"Is that supposed to be shocking?" Rachel genuinely couldn't help but laugh out loud. "No shit."

He was seriously asking it, too. It was as if the weird vibe that seemed to follow him began to disappear into thin air, leaving nothing but a conversation that had happened once before. Frank had his moments, but he was never this oblivious.

"I can't believe it." He started to pace around in the sand, acting like he was going to have a panic attack. His breathing was getting noticeably louder and more labored with his hands on his chest. It couldn't have been real. She had to have been joking. "I–I can't believe it." He incessantly took off his hat, ran his hands through his hair, then put it back on. The underside was stained a dark brown. It likely had never been washed. "Oh my god."

Rachel was now the one who couldn't look away at the sight in front of her, not deciding if it was the most hilarious thing she had ever seen, or if she should take him to the hospital for whatever was going on. Heart attack? Shock? Just out of shape? In a weird way, she was starting to feel bad for him for being so delusional that if this went on for much longer, she was going to have to actually do something.

"This is really a new low for you." She started to saunter over to him with her arms tightly crossed against her chest, lips curled as she had already won whatever game he was playing.

"I thought we still had a chance. Maybe work it out, or something." Frank frantically stopped, steps marked clearly in the sand. "I don't fuckin' know."

"You saw us together in that parking lot," Rachel narrowed her eyes intently, taking another step towards him. This was the one chance she had to set things right. Maybe end it all for good. "You asked me to my face if I was with Chloe." She had found herself so close to him that she was even starting to wonder if it was crossing the line. "How do you not remember that?"

"I just saw the truck," Frank shrugged. "I didn't know anything else."

"Right. Or when you pushed her out of the way just to see me." She just scoffed in his face. That day was quite a while ago, but wasn't going to be a day she would easily forget either. It was the first noticeable change with the same unexpected visitor that was oddly enough asking the same questions all over again. Like a broken record on a never ending timer. "You knew. I don't know why you won't admit it."

"You're not making me do shit. I know what I saw."

"And yet you had the audacity to give Nathan Prescott a letter to hand deliver to me, and for what? What reason do you need to give me that shit?"

"Listen, I thought it was another one of your casual things." He sighed and softened his gaze to an uncomfortable level. He wasn't there to fight, or feel any kind of emotions for that matter. That was the entire point of downing several beers before approaching her. "You're young, I get it." He tried to reach out for her, but she only backed up further away. "That's why I gave you some space to figure it all out, I guess."

"Figure it out?" Rachel hissed, "Do you seriously think I'm doing it for attention?"

"I know how you girls are. You want to try things. Experiment."

He really went there. Between the subtle implications and the implied messages behind words that were not being said was becoming too much to handle. Rachel stood still, feeling the now piercing hot air brush against her skin. It was scalding. Painful.

"Look, I…" Frank glanced up at her, face horrified at the realization that he wasn't using his words correctly, then quickly looked back down at the ground like it was a safer option. He bit his lip in frustration and readjusted his hat again. "I didn't mean it like that."

"For fucks sake! Just tell me why you wrote that letter!" Rachel exclaimed, already starting to mirror Frank's pacing from earlier because she didn't know what else to do. He was changing the subject and at the same time, not doing enough. They were too similar sometimes. And that definitely wasn't a good thing.

"That picture I put with it was one of my favorites." Frank fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet, hesitating for a moment before opening it up to reveal everything he had stashed inside. "I still keep one of them in here."

He pulled out a small picture, one weathered and slightly cracked around the edges, buried underneath his ID and handed it over to her. She paused upon taking it, taking several moments to look at it closely. Every detail hurt; the pain in her own eyes that only she could see. It was the same exact picture stapled onto the letter Nathan gave her the night at the barn, and it was going to be the last one she was going to have him see again. Her breath seemed to have caught in her throat the longer she stared at it. Enough was enough. Without hesitation, she angrily ripped it into shreds and let the torn up pieces fly away in the wind. It was freeing, and something that had been a long time coming. Way too long.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rachel." Frank just stood there in disbelief, wanting to do something but not really sure what.

"Let me see the rest. I know you have more." She looked into his hands that still held the half opened wallet like she expected more to be tucked away, then back at his RV that really wasn't parked that far away after all. None of this was on the plan for the morning–no, it was never the plan to run into him again in the first place. And yet, this little desire to have control over her own destiny for the first time was all too tempting. Considering that Max had dealt with most of what happened that year, she didn't have much she could do. This was really her only chance to get rid of something that she didn't want to follow her around anymore.

"Why, so you can rip them up too?" Frank let out a defeated sigh and looked back at the final strip of paper that was just starting to get carried by the wind gust. There was no getting that picture back.

"Frank, please." She looked at him as sympathetically as she could muster, hoping and praying that if she just tried a bit of acting, he would let her in. A perfect ploy for a desperate man. "For me."

"Always getting your way." He muttered, slowly shaking his head and finally put his wallet back in his pocket after it was frozen to his hands. It wasn't like he had anything better to do that day, and even if it wasn't the interaction that he was hoping to have with her, it was oddly filling a void that was always there. "You do know that I wouldn't do this for anyone else, right?"

"I'll consider myself lucky."

"Lucky," Frank laughed to himself before starting to walk towards his RV, waving for her to follow from behind. "Yeah, that's it."


Her small messenger bag sat plopped on the extra chair in the corner of the hotel room, carefully being filled with a few packs of extra film for her camera. It was a relatively calm beginning to the day, one that had been taken slowly and without a rush to get ready. The streets below them were empty and not a single sound was heard from any of the neighboring rooms. But something was immediately noticeable from the moment Max woke up. Besides a steaming, freshly brewed cup of coffee being shoved in her face by someone who looked like they weren't just wired from their own, evident enough from sitting on the table across from her, but had stayed up all night without an ounce of sleep, Chloe was acting a bit too energetic for what she could handle at eight in the morning.

She had been suspiciously vague about what they were going to do on their final day in Portland, and while it most definitely piqued Max's interest, she decided against saying anything to see how long she would last. Chloe was notoriously bad at hiding secrets, and it was starting to get funny how badly she was trying to cover up her own excitement about something . Something that was clearly about Max and it had to have been something that was going to be done that same day. She definitely couldn't last another hour like that, practically jumping off the walls and not a single thing was distracting her for more than five minutes.

"Chloe, you better tell me what's going on." Max glanced back at her who she heard slowly approaching, only noticing that she was clearly trying to hide something behind her back. "Please," She giggled at the sight now in front of her, "I can't take this anymore."

"I don't want you to freak out, okay? Just…" She sighed and brought out her notebook, clutching it in her grasp tightly as she sat down on the bed. "Just give it a chance."

Max slowly approached her and joined her on the edge of the bed, half expecting a horrible confession or that something went wrong overnight. Maybe she had lost something at the bar. Or maybe Rachel had called to tell her that the house was on fire back in Arcadia Bay. Too many mishaps, too little control.

"Come on, did something happen?" Max reached out to Chloe's arm, grabbing it to try to get her to face her, but she was too busy nervously picking away on some hangnail on her thumb. "You're seriously freaking me out."

Chloe just sat there, gazing down at the floor in silence. The carpet was clean, cleaner than any hotel she had stayed in before, but maybe a little too clean. She hadn't been in a place so well kept before. Though, there was something so comforting about the clutter that consumed her own room back home. There was no reason to be on edge, yet it was something that held more meaning than anything she ever made. It felt like a lot was weighing on it. She let out a long sigh. She was stalling and she knew it.

"How would you feel about getting a tattoo?" She blurted out, tensing up at the potential reaction Max would have.

Yet for her, it was nothing that she had been expecting.

" That's what you were scared to tell me?" Max nearly choked on her own breath as she burst out laughing, having to hold on to Chloe to steady herself. "That's so lame, Chloe," She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, with the tears welling up from laughing so hard. "At least try to make it sound bad. I was thinking someone died ."

Chloe just shrugged back, still not looking too relieved quite yet. It wasn't necessarily because she had thought of her as some kind of saint that was against getting a permanent drawing etched into her skin, but she definitely didn't think that she had the balls to go through with it.

"I have to say though, that is a pretty big commitment." Max stated simply, not feeling one way or another about it. Although, if she would have known that the trip had an added permanence to it, she would have shown up way more prepared.

"It doesn't have to be. You could just get something small."

"But I don't even know what I would get."

"I might have an idea," Chloe glanced over at the little notebook, picking it up and snapping off the elastic but refused to open it any further. She had an idea for the design, feeling like it had to be extra meaningful for so many reasons that were too long to even talk about. While it would be done under another surprise, mystery tattoos were never the best idea when it came to doing them for the first couple of times, it was still worth a shot. "Would you trust me enough?"

"Of course, but Chloe," Max bit her lip as she watched the notebook getting snapped again. Then again. "It better not be like, really inappropriate. Or illegal," It was starting to become increasingly obvious that Chloe had probably drawn something, which was making it a little too emotional to confront her with then. Her heart ached at the thought. "Or something that would get me fired from a job."

"I know I joke around sometimes, but I would never do that to you. That would be hella mean." Chloe put her hand on her shoulder, and waved the closed notebook. Max was watching her closely for any indication that she was lying, but she couldn't find it. "It's something you'll love."

"Promise me that you're being serious," Max slowly nodded as she was thinking it over. "And I'll do it."

"I promise on my entire life that I won't do something bad and that it's completely serious. You have my word, Super Max." Chloe held out her pinky finger and Max met hers, joining in the binding promise that couldn't be broken now. The relief was overwhelming just as it was exciting. When she had gotten her sleeve, it was done with Rachel under normal circumstances—or as normal as they came when they hung out. Now that she got to be there with Max for her first, it made it even more special. Chloe dug in her pocket for her phone and pulled up the tattoo shop that she would take her to. It was nearby, all done in planning the night before.

Max's eyes sparkled with determination.

"Fuck it. Let's go right now."

The door to the shop jingled as they entered, similarly to the coffee shop from yesterday, although this bell was so much more modern sounding—if that was even possible. Upon entry, everything was overwhelmingly updated and trendy. Some younger guy was working behind the counter right ahead, covered in tattoos all over his face and neck. He glanced up to briefly wave, then went back to drawing something on a big tablet. There was one other person in the back, with a wide open layout lined with front to back windows, and the distinct sound of the buzzing tattoo gun was heard from throughout the entire building. Hundreds of papers of previously designed work covered the walls. T-shirts hung from one of the exposed metal support beams. Plants were in every square inch of the place. It did seem well-kept in there, but almost too nice. It sure didn't look cheap.

Chloe walked right up to the counter and started chatting with the guy, pulling out her notebook and checking back to see if Max was going to get too curious and come up to look behind her back. While she did want to peek and finally see what she was going to be permanently getting, she hung back and made peace with the fact that she was going to let herself get surprised. New experiences and trusting something that could either go really good, or really bad, was good for her.

The guy whispered something, and then Chloe laughed. There was a mention of some price that sounded way higher than Max had wanted either her or Chloe to spend, especially for something that was happening impromptu. She watched her pull out her wallet and give him her ID, then after a few clicks on the computer stationed next to him, he gestured for Max to join and they all three went into the back of the shop.

Apparently, the guy's name was Cody, marked on by the name tag attached to his shirt. He carried around his tablet over to a large printer and they waited for the stencil of the design to be made. The entire process was barely five minutes. Everything was happening so fast. Without warning, a little piece of paper was taken and he peeled off the layer on the back, ready to be placed on Max.

"So, where would you like this?"

Max thought for a moment. There was a weird amount of pressure now, and still not knowing what it was going to be yet, she trusted that it was likely going to be something that she would want to look at often, so she held out her left arm.

"I think I want it on my wrist."

"Just to warn you, that's one of the more sensitive spots." He said calmly as he put the temporary tattoo on her skin and padded it down with a wet paper towel. "But a lot of people get their first one there, so," He smiled as he led her over to the full body mirror, "It's definitely not a bad choice."

"What do you think, Max?" Chloe stood back, waiting nervously as she looked closely in the mirror.

"I–" Max could feel herself choke up. It was a blue butterfly, a simple one at that, but had a blue gradient and black outline that was so well done that it was starting to make her mad how much talent Chloe held inside her. Yet, it was everything she could have ever wanted and more. Arguably the best tattoo in tattoo history. At least for her it was. "Chloe, I love it."

The process wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded, although it wasn't the most comfortable experience either. Cody was a chill guy, going through each step with enough detail to know that she wasn't getting ripped off by him. Max sat back in the chair as he was working hard at getting the outline done. He estimated the time would take around five hours, taking up most of their last day in the city, but it wasn't like they had any other plans. Chloe was holding her hand through the initial shock of pain that Max was not expecting, feeling her bones start to vibrate the closer Cody got to the joint. There wasn't much else to do except sit there, occasionally chat about subjects that they would in usual small talk, and scroll through their phones. Though, the best part was the free snacks and drinks.

"Hey, this means that I'm gonna be with you wherever you go." Chloe squeezed Max's free hand, with her attention still a little too focused on the screen resting on her thigh. "So don't get too tired of me because tats are hella annoying to remove."

"Like I would ever do that." Max reached out for the orange juice Cody had given her in case she fainted from the pain, but it was too far away for her to get to so she had to ask Chloe. While she didn't feel lightheaded yet, she would take all of the prepackaged sugar she could get. "Getting it removed, I mean."

"But you'll get tired of me?" Chloe poured a handful of M&Ms into her mouth, drowning out her words. "Wow, Max. Thanks a lot."

She laughed quietly. "You have your moments."

"So do you."

Max rolled her eyes.

"God, being in the city is doing something to me. I'm really not looking forward to going back to hickville, USA." Chloe stretched out her arms then adjusted her beanie, crookedly sitting on the top of her head. Sitting for hours on end was fine if she was the one getting the tattoo, but being the one waiting was starting to get mind-numbingly boring. She would never complain about it though. Max wasn't going to get her first tattoo alone and if she had to suffer for a few hours, then so be it.

"How close are we to leaving for California, anyways?"

"We've got a few months of pay left." A long yawn followed after the bag of M&Ms was completely emptied within seconds. They never seemed to fill those things with enough to feel satisfied. Fuck capitalism and their hatred of chocolate. "When we get back to Arcadia I need to talk with Frank about getting a loan to fix my truck. I've been putting it off for a while."

"He scares me." Max shuddered at his name.

"He wasn't always like that, at least before I knew the shit he did with Rachel." Chloe shook her head slowly. She didn't want to talk to him again, but the truck needed to be repaired one way or another. And waiting for paychecks from the diner would take months. "I don't know why everything has to be so freaking complicated."

"Just…please be careful with him."

"You have my word." She met Max's worried gaze with a reassuring nod.

"What kind of truck you got?" Cody had turned his back to them to switch the ink over to color instead of black, wheeling back around to change out the needle and start the process of filling in the tattoo. He was listening to their conversation, which neither of them could blame. The mention of Frank Bowers was probably the least interesting of all the stories he heard from other customers.

"Some old Ford F-150." Chloe shrugged. "I found it abandoned at a junkyard."

"That's dope as fuck."

"It is, but it's trashed. Floorboards are gone, the doors can barely close." She was getting a little too excited at having someone else to talk to about cars. While there was always David back at home, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. "Hella fun to drive, though." She grinned proudly.

"My uncle had a square body but they're so hard to find in decent, working condition now." Cody muttered through his unwavering concentration on shading in the first part of the gradient inside of the butterfly's wings. "I've always wanted one."

"Not a mechanic?"

"I'd rather stick to ink and my electric car." Still too focused to take his eyes off, he raised his arm to point out the front windows where a bright blue car sat out by the curb. It was distinctly different from anything either of them had seen in Arcadia Bay, almost too futuristic.

"Woah, is that yours?" Max asked, trying to sit up a bit to look at it.

"Sure is." He nodded. "Original Model S."

Talks of Teslas and automotive lingo that were starting to become gibberish instead of coherent words to Max, went on for a while as her tattoo was being finished. Luckily it wasn't a large piece, so it didn't take too terribly long to fill in completely, but by the end of it, she needed to get out of that chair. Stepping out of her comfort zone was fun enough, but she did want to know the full story about it since there was never a chance to even ask Chloe.

"Looks like you're all done, Max." Cody finished rolling on the transparent bandage and started to put away some of the equipment behind him. "Keep it covered for a while and try not to get it wet. You wouldn't want an infection to deal with."

"Definitely not." She smiled as she looked down at it. Oh, it hurt like a bitch and was going to be sore for a while, but it was so worth it. "It looks amazing. Thank you."

"You bet. You two take care now."

Fresh air at last.

The walk back to the parking garage was brief as it was only a block away from the shop. Cicadas buzzed loudly in the trees alongside the pavement, now hot to the touch from the summer heat wave. Max ran her fingers over the bandage covering her tattoo, feeling it again and again. It was only just starting to hit her that she really went through with it. That butterfly was a part of her now, a symbol of her past, present, and future. The complete cycle of death and rebirth. Of change.

"How did you know to get this?" Max asked as Chloe reached out to press the button at the crosswalk.

"I pay attention to things." She shrugged, leaning against the metal pole to wait for the light to switch. Some people were already starting to group up with them to cross the street. It was a busy Sunday afternoon in Portland. "That night you saw me…I didn't want that to be something you had to deal with alone. Just because that wasn't real doesn't mean that I'm not." She looked down at her, who was still enamored by the tattoo, and smiled to herself. It was always hard to know how to do the right thing with anyone, but maybe this was one of those things that she did get right after all. And that alone was good enough for her. "That Chloe doesn't get to have you now because she doesn't exist. I do."

"You surprise me every day. I don't know how you do it." Max raised her head slowly to meet her gaze and smiled back at her, hand still around the bandage even though she knew that she really shouldn't have been touching it so much.

"Secrets, Maximus," Chloe said, wrapping her arm around her shoulder as the LED sign lit up for them to finally cross. "One day you'll get it."

"Oh, I'm sure I will."


"What's taking you so long? Hello?" Rachel called out as she hit the door to his RV hard, with her own patience wearing thin and frustration starting to take hold. Frank had gone inside for some phone call that he had gotten on the walk over but left her outside, stranded, for close to twenty minutes. She wanted to leave more than anything but at the same time, she needed to end whatever was going on once and for all. There was not going to be any more waiting around. The past needed to be the past and she was not going to receive another letter again without consequences.

Just as she was about to pound on the door again, it abruptly burst open and Pompidou jumped out, nearly plowing her right over which forced her to step down and regain her balance.

"Calm the fuck down." Was heard from inside until Frank finally showed himself, leaning in the doorway with his focus still entirely on his phone. He scratched his chin as he was typing something. "I had to take a call for business."

"And how's that going?" Rachel scuffed her shoes on the pavement. Pompidou rested by her side comfortably. He didn't even seem to notice that there was any strain between her and his owner.

"Don't waste your energy on small talk. I know why you're really here." Frank turned back inside for a second to grab a little baggie filled to the brim with white powder, shaking it in the air like it was a dog treat.

Cocaine. He had way more illegal and potent drugs inside because she could remember seeing them when she used to visit, but even though it was more like a convenience store in his RV than a home, being face to face with it was doing something to her. She had blocked it out of her mind for months, lying and telling partial truths to what she really did with him to Chloe, not because she wanted to lie to her anymore than she had to, but because she couldn't face her own truth of what she let herself do. How far she had gone into the deep end.

This entire talk was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she planned on it being.

"Just let me in." She gritted her teeth, trying to push past him while he was still blocking the doorway, ignoring the drug talk for as long as she could. One day she would have to confront it head on. But not today.

Frank groaned and stepped aside to let her in, waving for Pompidou to follow. The door was promptly shut behind them. The way that she was always able to get her way with him was laughable. At a moment's notice, she knew that she could make him do anything she wanted.

"If you touch one goddamn thing…"

"Yeah? And what are you going to do?" Rachel crossed her arms as she stepped aside to find an open space. It was somehow even more messy and unkempt in here than she could remember from before. The smell of weed mixed with decomposing dog shit was overwhelming. She could have sworn that she saw something small and furry move from under the pile of dirty clothes, and Frank most certainly did not get a second dog.

"Forget it." He waved her off as he walked up to the front end, sitting down in the driver's seat and propping up his feet on the neighboring cushions.

Rachel slowly took in her surroundings with every turn. There were pictures hung up, some of her, some of Frank, some of people that she didn't recognize. Nothing evidently problematic, but she knew that it wasn't the full story. There had to be more.

Frank wasn't even watching her, too concerned with cracking open yet another beer bottle with the sound of the cap popping and flying off.

His computer was on, but wasn't showing anything interesting immediately on the monitor. She didn't want to start digging inside of that anyway. She knew exactly what was on there. Pompidou followed her closely along with his collar jingling on every movement. It was nice to have a little company during her adventure, even if it wasn't with her original pirate crew. The thought of Chloe and Max was starting to make her stomach hurt. If Chloe specifically ever found out about this, she would kill her on the spot.

"I know you kept everything." She reached up to open some of the cupboards, but again, there was nothing. Just some boxes of cereal. A few cans of beans.

"You're really getting on my last nerve."

"Where did you hide it? It has to be in here." The space under the sink had nothing but cobwebs. Rachel turned around and started to dig through the pantry, only then coming across some of his stash. Flashbacks and memories flooded her mind but she pushed them out each time. It was like the orange bottles and plastic bags were taunting her. Laughing at and pointing imaginary fingers at her as she stood there, numb and unable to move. She knew that the self restraint had to end at some point, but when exactly was the question. A final effort past the discomfort and somehow she ended up over by the bathroom. She didn't even know how she got there.

"Why don't you come sit down and chill out for a second. Have a beer with me." He patted the seat next to him, downing back on his drink that was not his first for the day.

But that was the last place she was going.

The back area where the bedroom lay was somehow even more of a shitpit than the rest of it. There was so much stuff lying on his bed and across every square inch of the room when she looked closer. Stained shirts were thrown to the side and a pizza box was left open with two slices left. A fly kept flying around, landing on the greasy cheese. Gross.

"Hey, what are you doing back there?" Frank yelled from across the RV, but didn't seem concerned enough to get up and actually find out for himself.

Rachel didn't respond. It was starting to look hopeless and that she was just going to have to leave, until a shimmer of metal caught her eye. A vent, half opened and hanging on by one loose screw, held something tucked away inside of it. She cautiously walked over and peeled out the notebook stuffed full with notes, receipts, and most importantly, pictures. Some were falling out onto the ground before she had the chance to open it. But it was very clear that this was exactly what she was looking for.

"What the fuck is this?" She peered around the corner and waved the notebook around, hoping that it would catch Frank's attention. Anger was starting to take over. He still kept everything, even things that she couldn't remember for the life of her. But of course he did. It hadn't been that long. Hell, he was still convinced that whatever she had with Chloe was all for show. Not real.

Frank hurriedly got up from the chair and rushed over to her, tripping over the maze of trash that littered the RV. It seemed like all he needed was a little fear put in him to finally get him moving.

"I've never seen this one in my life." Rachel muttered as she pointed to a random nude image of her taped on one of the pages, where the background was too blurry to tell where exactly it was. There was so much more she could say about it but there wasn't time to process any of it.

"You would come over here all the time and do stuff like that." Frank tried to grab the notebook out of her hands but Rachel tucked it quickly behind her back just in time. It was too close. He took a step back and sighed. "Stop lying to yourself, you enjoyed it."

" You enjoyed it. I was stupid and…" The heavy pages bound together by old leather was starting to feel heavier than she let on, feeling like every secret hidden inside was about to be released for everyone to see. Confronting the past was never easy. Never. "And you were a mistake." She glared at him harshly. "A terrible mistake that's too fucking insecure to move on."

He took another step back, inching his way down the small kitchen countertop as he felt behind him for something that was being blocked from view by his arm.

"You're just saying that…" A can of beans dropped off the edge and rolled onto the floor. A plate almost broke. "You'll come back. You always do."

There was only so much room in that RV and she could feel that something wasn't right. The air felt suffocating and it wasn't the rotten food.

"Stop kidding yourself. You have a serious problem, Frank. You need help." Rachel watched him closely as he was not able to find what he was looking for, but it was clear to her what it was after the moments were passing quickly and that same object was burning a hole in her pocket.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business." He paused to think. If it wasn't in the kitchen, then it had to be…

"Oh, were you looking for this?" Rachel pulled out the pocket knife she had found on the side table to help pry open the vent. She held it closer to her, twisting and turning it to show off the engraving. "Were you really going to pull a knife on me?"

"Get the fuck out of here." He snapped, like a warning call that she wasn't going to take, as she was pushing his limits to the extreme.

"Not until I watch you burn every single one of these right now."

"Hell no. I like them."

"I don't!" Rachel decided at the last moment to rush to the door, pushing everything that she possibly could out of her way. But she had only gotten a few steps ahead before she felt hands firmly clutch onto her arms and pulled her right back to where she was before. The knife that she had was dropped on the floor and was kicked into uncharted territory.

"Give it to me." Frank aggressively took a hold of her in the best he could and tried to rip the notebook from her grasp, leaving red marks all over her skin. His nails were digging deep and drawing blood. He squeezed a little too hard on her arm, to the point of it being painful, but she couldn't feel anything that was happening.

Everything was numb.

Pompidou was barking loudly, jumping up and down and scratching at both of their legs. Rachel's ears were ringing. Her only focus was the next step. The next place she could go. Frank frantically pulled at her shirt then forced her back again, not wanting to stop himself from taking what he wanted. She could feel herself losing control. The door had been cracked open from a gust of wind earlier, leaving her the smallest opportunity to try to escape for likely the last time. With the notebook clutched onto as hard as she could, she shoved him back and ran outside, trying to get as far away as she could. The lighter in her pocket was dug out and was sparked but nothing happened.

"You don't know what you're doing." Frank stumbled out of his RV as he chased after her onto the beach. He was quickly running out of breath himself, having trouble catching up.

She desperately was trying to light the lighter, but he only seemed to get closer the more it wasn't working. Another knife, now what appeared to be a cooking knife, was wrapped tightly around his hand ready for action. There was nobody else around. No one to help her or even call the cops. No Chloe and no Max. She didn't think that Frank would go that far, to do something that would be potentially deadly over such an insignificant thing, but she didn't know what to believe now.

"You bitch!" He swung at her but missed as she ducked away and sprinted off, finally getting a spark to light the notebook on fire. A trail of ashes and burnt paper followed her around the beach.

He had gotten way too close.

The notebook was starting to get incredibly warm, to the point that there was going to be a second degree burn if she didn't get rid of it somehow. Frank was trailing right behind her and was waiting for her next move, but stopped immediately when the notebook was thrown deep into the ocean. A small puff of smoke emerged from the water, then everything went silent. He wouldn't dare to swim that far to get all of the pictures again. They were all gone. Forever.

Rachel slowly turned around to face him, who was still stuck in place as he watched the waves carry all of his prized possessions into the abyss. The knife he carried by his side looked like a toy now, a joke to something he would never have the nerve to actually go through with.

"I never want to see your fucking face again." She hissed, leaving him to go pack up everything she had brought with her and go home.

Home. Maybe that word had gotten a new meaning.


The sound of keys jingled from the other side of the front door until it finally opened, revealing Chloe carrying nearly every single bag that she could fit in and around her arms. Max was following quickly behind, wanting to help hold something but the struggle was not going to be given up any time soon. Although it was pretty ridiculous to watch, no one dared get in each other's way. Rachel had been waiting on the stairwell, witnessing the entire fiasco go down in front of her, feeling unusually guarded. There was so much that she was holding back lately that she was beginning to wonder if she hadn't really changed all that much after all. The difference between lying and keeping something a surprise was an extremely fine line to walk, and it wasn't one that she was especially good at.

Chloe exhaustedly dropped the remainder of the bags down by the side of the stairwell railing and immediately reached out for her, without saying a single word, coming down the final few steps to meet her embrace. Rachel fell into her arms, feeling herself be held tightly by the sweaty and tired mess that really needed a shower. But she clearly had other, more important, plans.

"I'm freaking starving…" Chloe muttered as she kissed her forehead before heading straight into the kitchen to open nearly every single cupboard to find something to eat. There wasn't much after all. Joyce and David still were not home yet from sorting out their own drama, which nobody knew what exactly that entailed, and that meant that there were no visits to the grocery store all week. After a final check through one of the drawers, she banged her head on one of the cabinets in frustration, sighing and making every single annoying noise she could to show how desperate she was for something . Anything.

"There's some leftovers in the fridge." Rachel, clearly reading her mind, suggested as she saw how much her face had lit up at the idea. It was just some old pasta from the night before. Cream of carbonara but with a lack of ingredients, she had to make do with what she had. And that meant no cream, eggs, or half of the vegetables that were supposed to be thrown in according to the recipe she found online. It was quite literally just plain noodles. Hopefully, Chloe wouldn't think that it was too gross but knowing her, she would eat the entire thing with no regrets.

Max, on the other hand, had apparently gone back outside to check the mail because she walked in carrying a huge stack, shuffling through each piece of paper and envelope. She had landed on something interesting, or by the look on her face, strange, as she took it closer to read. It was an invitation to an event that was most likely not a mistake or misprint. She glanced up to show Rachel her find since Chloe was still too busy in the kitchen, but the shimmering plastic around her wrist was catching Rachel's eye more than anything else she wanted to ask about at that moment.

"Max, let me see that tattoo." She asked, knowing more about it than she assumed Max had thought. The constant texts of every new update and pictures taken all morning were keeping her so up to date with it that it was like she was there with them—which would have been a much better use of her time than whatever went on between her and Frank. There was no questioning that.

Max proudly held out her arm only to reveal the tattoo that was now forming a gross mixture of blood and plasma on top of it, neatly covered over for protection. It was still clear what it was though, and Rachel could only assume the reaction she had at the shop because she knew how much that design meant to her. It was detailed and definitely made by someone who possessed the skill for making art. If only she knew someone who fit that description.

"I thought she needed something to help process everything." Chloe said through her mouth full of pasta, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen; the glass bowl in her hands clinking against the fork on every scoop.

"Ink will do that to you." Rachel nodded thoughtfully. Even though she still didn't fully understand everything Max had experienced with the other reality she lived filled with death and painful endings, she did know that leaving feelings left inside were about as painful as talking about them out loud. And sometimes to express those feelings, you had to wear them on your sleeve. Or leg. Or…wrist.

Max was overly content with herself, standing off to the side and acting far more comfortable than she had ever shown either Chloe or Rachel in the time spent together. There was a different air to her, a feeling that something had shifted in a mind bending way that only made sense to her—or at least someone that had unexplainable superpowers. Or maybe it was just the hot weather clouding everyone's judgments of each other after such a long day, but either way, it was a nice change to the constant turmoil she kept seeming to find herself in. She needed a break from the stress and the hectic life that Arcadia Bay brought with it, and luckily, she got exactly what the doctor ordered.

"I feel changed." She suddenly confessed as she continuously glanced down at her tattoo for about the hundredth time since she had gotten it. It was never going to get old. The high of adrenaline wasn't wearing off yet and the idea of another one was already tempting enough. She did have enough self control to know that it was way too soon, though. "It's like I'm a different person now."

"Is that a good different or bad different?" The words quickly became muffled by the carbonara.

Max paused intentionally, with a grin slowly appearing like she was either going to say something shocking or try to crack a joke. There was really no in between with her. She ran her hands over the plastic wrap that covered her skin over and over again, pushing around the ink bubble starting to appear.

"Hella good." She said with a bit too much confidence, but the small giggles across from her were only making her realize that maybe it was a mistake.

"You've been a bad influence on her, Chloe." Rachel shook her head, only discovering just then that she was dealing with not one, but two dorks. This was going to take some getting used to and hella more patience. "For the record, I had no part in this."

"Says the one who said it first." Chloe snidely remarked as she walked over to Max and patted her on the back cheerfully, feeling pleased with herself. It wasn't like she had learned it from anyone else, unless she had time traveled into the future and learned a little bit of Californian slang then, but she wasn't sure that it was even possible. "You better turn back now before you lose any more of your innocence, Max. You've been hella corrupted."

"Too late." She smirked. "I lost it a long time ago."

"This I need to see."

"Maybe you already have."

The fork was hung in midair as Chloe became too shocked to try to say anything back, but Max was already making her way into the other room, laughing on the walk to the table as she placed the heavy stack of mail down, leaning back on one of the chairs like she owned the house. That tattoo seriously did something to her, that was for sure.

"You should show Rachel that…gift…" She added as she pointed to the bags piled by the stairs, though hesitated at the last minute, not quite sure what to call it because it wasn't exactly a gift but it also wasn't not one. It was complicated. Working with magical tales and visions was usually confusing and didn't always have words to match what was actually going on.

A zipper was heard being undone as Chloe hurriedly took out the bag with her free hand, while the other was still steadily balancing the pasta bowl, and joined Max at the table as Rachel followed behind. The earring was never meant to be given now, as it was technically meant for her birthday since they didn't buy anything else in Portland like they said they would, but it was also kind of a strange thing to give her in the first place. The entire situation felt incredibly awkward for some reason.

"Do you remember when I called you and told you about going to that festival…" The bowl was put down and the bag was being fiddled with impatiently, making the worst sounds imaginable. Rachel and Max cringed at each movement. Chloe eventually took the hint and put it down. For now. "And there was that older woman there?"

"And she told you to get a journal?" Rachel frowned. "Yeah, I do."

She was still naively holding onto the hope that Chloe did listen to her off handed request at filling out a book of plans and promises after the brief video chat the night before, but she assumed that she didn't do that because she had been drunk on caffeine and designing the tattoo was draining her attention span faster than the truck parked outside ran out of gas. Both were equally frustrating but were a package deal.

"Well, I didn't tell you what else she did." Chloe bit her lip, drawing out the entire surprise so much that it was becoming painful.

Rachel shot Max a concerned look as Chloe pushed the bag across the table over to her.

"Open it up." She insisted. "There's a story to go along with it."

Rachel slowly unpeeled the flap that had been stapled shut and peeked inside, only to see something that was oddly recognizable.

"Oh, how original." She smirked as she pulled out the earring for a closer look. The white feather tucked behind the half cut blue feather was like looking in a mirror to another dimension. It was a little too perfect; a little too close to the one she was wearing right then and had been for years.

"Shut up." Chloe playfully shot back as she rolled her eyes. It was off to a bad start, even if the reaction was to be expected. She pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down. Though, driving a couple of hours on top of sitting at the tattoo shop all morning was the last thing she should have been doing then. "So, we were just walking by this booth and we weren't going to buy anything until this woman turns around and starts saying the craziest shit."

"She kept telling you how 'rare your energy was'." Max teased, holding up her hands like she possessed the same power as the spiritual saleswoman.

"And she had this vision of us dead ." Chloe said it a bit too intensely than she had liked, flinching at the reaction Rachel had across from her. Death was a touchy subject, and it was clear why, but…she sighed heavily and adjusted her beanie. Explaining this kind of stuff was Max's thing, and it didn't help that they never talked about the whole experience after. "Actually, I have no idea what she meant." She quickly added to avoid the entire conversation that should really happen at another time.

Maybe never.

"And all of that relates to this how ?"

"Oh, she gave it to us for free."

"Chloe, I think she said that it symbolized transformation and change." Max sat down on the top of the table; the legs that were holding it up creaking on each movement. "And then she gave it to us for free."

"That's pretty freaky. I'd say that she was pretty spot on with that. Considering everything." Rachel muttered, with the feathers swaying together from her finger as she held it out in front of her, feeling a lot of conflicting emotions bubbling to the surface. She didn't want to burden anyone else with all of the shit she still kept inside but it seemed like there was no escaping it. Everything was like a catalyst for change, like Max had said, but maybe she was tired of changing. Maybe she didn't need any more reminders that something was different about her. About all of them. Even the small town.

It was too much to think about.

"Hey, if you don't want it, it's totally cool," Chloe shrugged casually, not seeming to be upset. It was an unplanned purchase that was never supposed to be bought in the first place. And if anything, it was just as relieving talking about it as it was knowing that she didn't seem to hate it. "We didn't really know what to do with it, and throwing it away felt like we were going to get seven years of bad luck."

Rachel was already starting to put the new earring in her right ear, adjusting the clasp on to secure it tightly.

"Now I feel like I'm going to get bad luck if I don't wear it." She mumbled, now taking off the one she always wore and placing it down on the table. "I don't want to take any chances."

"I don't blame you." Max chuckled.

Chloe reached over to pick up the old earring to play with, flicking the orange notch with her fingers. The feeling she got so used to was now different; a disconnect from Rachel's previous way of living to what felt like an upgrade for all of them. This wasn't about bird feathers anymore, this was something that was being felt in the air since they arrived back to Arcadia Bay that afternoon. An electric feeling that was like a storm approaching but wasn't. There was no rain on the radar for the next month.

"Tattoo, earring…" Rachel pulled out her phone to check if it wasn't lopsided or anything on the camera and sure enough, it looked pretty damn good. Not bad for something she never asked for. "Anything else?"

"There was this in the mailbox." Max brushed through the stack of mail and held up a small flier that she had wanted to show both of them earlier but couldn't. It was bright green and black, with a large detailed mask, similar to one of a masquerade party, plastered on the front. She started to read through all of the text on it out loud. "We're all invited to a costume party at the Prescott's Estates. July 22nd. And we're VIPs."

Chloe nearly choked on her last bite of the plain pasta. The timing was too good to not be intentional.

"What's better than spending your birthday with the Prescotts?" She smirked. "Sounds like a good day to me."

"Fucking blow me." Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes. A party funded and run by the Prescott family, especially after what happened to Chloe—who still had the remnants of a black eye–sounded like the worst idea imaginable. If Nathan was going to be there, so would Victoria and likely all of the Vortex Club members. Her stomach was twisting at the thought. The questions and rumors they would all ask her and the bullshit inevitably spewing out of everyone's mouth was not how she was going to spend a day that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the person reading the invitation. "What else does it say, Max?"

"It looks like everyone from Blackwell is going to be there…" She flipped it over to the other side, only to reveal nothing, then flipped it back, re reading everything again to herself. "But it's really driving home the whole costume thing."

"Yeah, that's going to be a no for me. I think my Vortex Club days are long gone." Rachel sighed and reached out for the flier to look for herself. Everything Max had read was there, but also was a small list in the corner of all of the VIPs, including all three of their names. They weren't supposed to even know who Max was, let alone make her join in on whatever plan they most definitely had.

"Are you feeling okay? You're like the last person I'd expect to not want to go." Chloe said, reaching out for her hand, but Rachel just shrugged her off. She was acting unusually defensive since they arrived back, but nothing was too out of the ordinary. Yet, at least.

"I don't know that person anymore. It's just how it is, I guess."

"Sounds kind of like string theory," The wooden chairs were getting way too uncomfortable. Chloe leaned back and propped her feet up on the table, staring off into space as she was thinking deeply about what exactly she did read on some old forum. Of course she forgot to save it, and would likely take her hours to find it again, but at least her hidden knowledge was coming in handy now. There was never a right time to bring it up before. "Where there's parallel realities at the same time coexisting in the infinite multiverse. It's how we're all connected. Like strings weaved into a piece of cloth."

Rachel and Max just looked at each other, too astonished to respond. That couldn't have been Chloe talking. Maybe she was still left in Portland and this was some bad caricature of her, accidentally picked up on the side of the road. While they did both know that she was secretly really good at science, mentioning something that related to all of the weirdness that seemed to emanate from the small town was weird. Why didn't she say something sooner, and how much was she quietly holding inside of her this whole time?

"Nerd alert, Chloe." Max looked at her with an enormous mixture of confusion and intrigue. "Where'd you come up with that?"

"I googled it."

"I think Rachel and I have some catching up to do."

"Clearly." Rachel nodded in disbelief, but the thick cardstock paper was still resting in her hand, drawing her attention back. That science talk would have to be brought up again when there wasn't some kind of sabotage pending in a week. "But we really do need to talk about this party."

"It's going to be so awkward for me because I would know everyone there, but they wouldn't even know me." Max said, genuinely feeling herself get uncomfortable at the realization that she was going to be an actual outsider at the event. Her fake life turned into a confusing past that she never wanted to explain more than once was staring at her right in her face.

She could handle it, and a few introductions to people she used to know wouldn't be any different from anything she did before. Having been thrown into plenty of sudden situations before, this was going to be a piece of cake. Though, the thought of who would respond to her and how , was definitely something to think about. The three of them had not been in contact with anyone from Blackwell, except the infrequent run-ins with Victoria, Steph, and Nathan, but they were so few and far in between that they didn't count. It wasn't like any of them, except for Steph, asked about how they were, or what they were doing.

"Well, it is a costume party. So you have that going for you." Rachel suggested after watching Max take the invitation back for herself to read once again. But this time much more closely. She could understand why she was being so cautious about it, especially with who was all invited.

"What if we go, but we hang back and try to figure out whatever Nathan and Victoria have planned? Like some kind of secret mission." Chloe shrugged. The idea seemed logical in her mind but she wasn't sure if she was the only one that actually wanted to go. The free booze was a plus.

"Chloe, I'm not loving this idea." Her face seemed to tense up even more than it already was. Rachel shifted back into her seat and sighed, still trying to be there and be present but every movement seemed to curl up the sleeves of the flannel she had to put on to cover the marks Frank made. She was practically dying of heat exhaustion from the shirt. "You know what happened the last time with Nathan. I'm not going to see you get hurt again."

"That's why we would stick together." Chloe assured as she tried again to reach out for Rachel's hand, and this time was successful. It helped that the sleeve was frustratingly pulled down just in time. "They wouldn't invite us and make us VIP for no reason, so we have to see what's going on." Her thumb lightly grazed against the top of her hand. "Hopefully all of this Arcadia Hell bullshit will end then."

"I hate to say it, but it does sound kind of fun." Max finally put the invitation down and out of sight, stretching out as sitting on top of the table was killing her back. She was consistently surprising Chloe and Rachel, and they just couldn't keep up, which was clear with the shocked expressions still on their faces. She smirked, landing on the perfect idea. "We could dress up as pirates."

"Now you're talking!" Chloe immediately reached across to high five her.

"So I'm really the only one who doesn't want to go? Maybe this string theory is true." Rachel half-joked, half-grumbled, as her focus shifted between Max and Chloe who, for the first time she had ever felt this way, was the odd one out. It was humbling, but she also didn't quite know how to feel. Rachel Amber not going to a party hosted by the Vortex Club? Something was terribly wrong. "Max, have you been messing with time when I wasn't paying attention?"

"No way. But if I did," She grinned and raised her eyebrow. "You wouldn't know."

"I think that tattoo ink went to her brain." Rachel pulled Chloe close and whispered, pointing her thumb at Max who was back to checking out her wrist. That was indeed the millionth time that day, and the two of them chuckled lightly at the moment. Sketchy party invitation or not, maybe the plan wasn't as bad as she thought.

There was a lot to talk about.


The Blackwell dormitories remained vacant and would likely stay that way until the school year would start in a couple of weeks. Yet, there was one solitary soul that had been tirelessly working at her desk all day. Victoria technically wasn't allowed to stay in her dorm room during the summer months but with her family living in Seattle, there wasn't a chance for her to be anywhere else. Through enough convincing and embarrassing bribes that no teacher felt comfortable taking, having free reign of the campus did have its benefits. The photography room wasn't locked, similar to every other classroom that had wide open doors for maintenance, giving her access to whatever she wanted. That was if she never got caught. Although, despite everything feeling similar to all of the other years that she had gone there, her last year at Blackwell was going to be vastly different. The world-renowned, talented photography teacher Mark Jefferson was not going to be there—as most residents in the town assumed was dead.

There were a lot of loose ends and unanswered questions to the mystery of what exactly went down with him, but as far as Victoria was concerned and as long as she wasn't going to be pulled into whatever Nathan was doing with him, she was blissfully ignorant. There wasn't much anyone could do except for the ones directly involved. Those including the three that were the top priority for attendance of the greatest summer party of the decade. It was a slightly exaggerated title, but Taylor and Courtney insisted on making it sound impressive so nobody would miss it. Only time would tell if that would actually work. Victoria had her own reservations about it.

Small string lights hung from the walls, illuminating the dark room that surrounded her. Stacks of different colored paper and marked up foam sheets covered the table. Two neatly painted horns rested nearby to dry from several coats of spray paint done earlier in the day. The costume masquerade theme was a last ditch attempt to figure out what was going on with Chloe, Rachel, and Max. She knew that it was none of her business, but in her mind, they made it her business from the moment they all appeared on the front headlines of every newspaper in town. She couldn't seem to escape them, always acting so irritatingly happy no matter where she went.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened behind her with Nathan appearing looking like he had seen a ghost. He carried the remaining fliers for the party in one arm, with a jacket thrown over the other.

"Well, that took you long enough." Victoria watched him steadily, with a growing annoyance in her voice. He was sent out to deliver the fliers hours ago. The town was only so big, so it shouldn't have taken all night. The expression on his face was extremely tense, and even after she took the fliers from his grasp to place on the ground to deal with another time, he didn't look any more relieved.

"I didn't have a choice." Nathan said tiredly, starting to walk around the small room, feeling more restless inside than what he was showing. Ever so often he would snap his fingers like it was some sort of tick. "Kelly's house was on the side of town where no one from Blackwell lives. So yeah, it took a while."

There was a tray of jewelry that rested by Victoria's bed on a side table where the gold pieces glimmered against the lights. Nathan reached out to fiddle with one of the rings, only to get swatted away almost immediately after touching one. He was in some kind of mood that she wasn't going to deal with that night, and touching her expensive jewelry was only putting her more on edge.

"That mysterious ass bitch is starting to get on my nerves." Victoria decidedly sat back down at her desk and crossed her arms as she leaned back into the chair. The mask she was making was really starting to come together now that she had another look at it. It was loosely inspired by the one from The Tempest that Rachel just had to steal the show for, despite her being the understudy and any effort to take her down was proven to be unsuccessful. Whatever. The second time had to be the one she would come out on top. She was sure of it. "Is she trying to be better than us because she lives in the Twilight Zone? More like the retro zone."

Nathan found himself at the edge of her bed next to the stack of party fliers. The sound of scissors cutting paper and crinkling noises was heard again as Victoria was resuming her arts and crafts session. There was time for talking but it had to be done multitasking. Without much else to do, he sat down and stared out the window. A single lamppost was just outside.

"It was so fucking weird. The neighborhood looked like it was abandoned."

A Vortex Club poster hung on the side table beneath the window panel with creased edges and a worn graphic. He reached out to look at it closer, tracing his finger over the swirls of the design. It was becoming meditative.

"Shocking." Victoria rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. She didn't mind having company, but the company seemed to have something on their mind because he wouldn't stop messing with the things in her room.

He wasn't going to tell her what exactly was bothering him, though.

"We'll just have to see if she shows up to the party now."

"And what if she doesn't?" Nathan asked nervously.

"Then I guess we leave her alone." She shrugged and then turned back to gluing pieces of embroidery onto the edges. The damn mask was going to get finished that night or it was never going to get done. "Sorry, but I don't care about her. I don't know why you do, Nate."

"I don't…I don't care."


It was late at night, but not enough for the entire town to be asleep just yet. The air was still and calm, and everything seemed to be back to normal. Rachel was up in Chloe's room with her alone until she suddenly decided that she needed to get up and leave like it was nothing. Chloe frantically checked the time looking like a fire was set underneath her, then rushed around to look for her keys that she just so happened to misplace. It took several minutes just for her to reach the door handle until Rachel called out from the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I was going to go see Frank about a loan for my truck." She muttered as her mind was way too focused on her phone nestled tightly in her left hand, busy texting and tapping on the screen.

"Right now?" Rachel felt sick. She thought that she had avoided it all day, hiding back both herself and details of what exactly she did during her time alone. She scanned the area, anxiously trying to come up with something to say. Everything was dark and comforting and relaxing. This wasn't the time for any kind of meeting. "Why don't you do it another time."

Chloe sighed and grudgingly put her phone down, leaning against the closed door with her hand tempting to open it and leave.

"Max and I could barely make it back to town." She said with a sharp tone, borderline snapping at her, but held back because she really did not want to argue. But she didn't understand the whole story of why Rachel was being so weird about it. And it didn't just start now, it was hours ago. "If I don't get it fixed soon, you better say goodbye to that Santa Monica dream."

They were just fine, all until Frank had to be brought up and everything seemed to go wrong. Fucking Frank. He was always there , even when he wasn't. Rachel just sat there, growing more than impatient herself, feeling like her options were only getting more limited the more the time passed. There was no way she was going to let her see him tonight, let alone ever again. It was going to take a lot to convince Chloe because once she had her mind set on something, it was near impossible to stop her. Sometimes that was a good thing. But not now.

"It's late. And…" Shit. There was only one way. The blue hair was wildly hanging out from her beanie and remembering what she mentioned a few days ago, Rachel decided to do something risky. "What if I gave you a haircut?"

"You and something sharp doesn't sound like a good combination." Chloe, ever so slowly, began to make her way back over to her, but it wasn't without a bit of protest. She stopped right at the end of the bed and crossed her arms. "Besides, my hair is priceless."

A wink was given at the terrible pun, but she was finally away from the door. It was a small win. One that would have to do.

"Since we're in agreement," Rachel decidedly stood up and jumped out of the bed, suddenly finding the energy to embark on becoming a hairdresser for the night. She had no idea how to do it, but without any other options, she was going to learn and make it last long enough for her to eventually distract her with…something else. "Why don't you go in the bathroom," She grabbed Chloe's hand and guided her out into the hallway, practically pushing her into the bathroom. "Wet your hair, and bring a towel back when you're done."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"As serious as I'll ever be." Rachel replied firmly, turning on the sink faucet and letting the water warm up a little bit as she checked it with the underside of her wrist. She had to make it comfortable, and hopefully a bit sensual later on, or else Chloe wouldn't want any part of it. There were a few tricks up her sleeve that were going to make the whole experience more interesting. It helped that it was her first night back from her trip.

"Then I guess Frank will have to wait." She mumbled and blushed after Rachel brushed back some of her hair behind her ear, then left to go back to her room to get everything set up. Chloe was so taken aback with everything that was happening that she couldn't make herself say anything to refuse. Maybe the truck wasn't as big of a problem as she imagined.

When Chloe arrived back with the green pirate towel wrapped around her neck, the scene that appeared as soon as she walked in through the door frame was about as lame as it was exciting. Rachel had pulled out the chair by the desk and brought it out to the middle of the room, standing behind it a little too seductively to be considered any type of business.

"Amber's Salon, huh? How much do you charge?" Chloe asked with a smirk, but couldn't keep up with the confidence once she made eye contact with her. Her gaze was razor-sharp, eyeing her like a piece of steak hung in front of a lion. Hungry.

"I take my payments in more unconventional ways." Rachel winked as Chloe sat down in the chair, moving around the towel behind her slowly, leaving tracing marks around her neck with her fingers. The top of her shirt was already soaking wet from her dripping hair.

"You must really like the personal connection with your clients."

"Oh, definitely. And depending on how my client behaves, I might throw in a few extras." Rachel crouched down in front of her and ran her hands up her thighs, causing her to tremble and the wood to creak. She bit her lip hard. "Free of charge, of course."

"This isn't going to be some random toothbrush you found, is it?" Chloe barely said, too flustered to come up with anything more creative to say. Her mind felt like mush. She had already lost to whatever Rachel was playing and it was far too late to turn back now.

"I'll give you something better to clean your mouth with."

"Fuck." She gasped back on her breath that was already heavy enough.

Any song that had been playing on the radio in the background faded away, just like the nightly ambiance that came from outside of the opened window. The consequences of them being alone in a room together was deadly if provoked.

"Sooo…" Rachel had gone back behind the chair and ruffled the blue hair in her between fingers, brushing it out with the comb. She wanted to leave Chloe with just a taste of what she missed during her time away but seeing her get all hot and bothered was about as rewarding. There was so much control sitting in front of her for her to take. Hair or otherwise. "How much do you want me to take off?"

Right. The haircut.

"This was your idea, not mine." Chloe shrugged. "Take off as much as you want."

And that she did.

Small clumps of hair were quickly falling onto the ground. A spray bottle of water here, a brush through there. The two had fallen into silence, letting the actual hair cutting portion take hold for the time being. Chloe was sitting there patiently, almost a bit too much, to the point that Rachel couldn't believe that she would trust her enough to cut off her precious hair. It was shaggy enough to cover up mistakes or jagged edges, but the thought alone was still stressful. Maybe she should've just offered to re-dye it. Anything seemed easier than potentially ruining how she could look for the next six months until it all finally grew back fully.

"Oh, I ran into Steph up in Portland." Chloe said quietly, trying her best not to move because the first couple of times she already got yelled at, or, gently reminded that if she didn't want half of her head gone then she had to sit still like if she was a preschooler at nap time.

At least there wasn't a timeout.

"Steph Gingrich?" Rachel frowned. "I haven't heard her name in a while."

"She was the stage crew for The High Seas . Max and I had snuck into this bar where the band was playing and that's where she was."

"Sounds like fun." And way less problematic. "I wonder how she managed to be a roadie for them."

"I don't know. I didn't really ask her anything, now that I think of it."

"Chloe, sometimes you have to be a little nosy." Rachel's voice was muffled from the comb being held by her front teeth as she reached down to grab the spray bottle to wet yet another section. It was like the blue locks never ended like the treacherous seas in the ocean. Except the only one driving the ship was a traitor that didn't actually belong in the crew like she had thought. Or maybe she just hadn't had her initiation yet.

"Yeah, like how you cleaned my room?" She smirked as she glanced around, this time being so careful that her own eyeballs were straining. But the view was incredible. There were no piles of clothes or stacks of dirty plates. No cups or crumpled up pieces of paper scattered about. She noticed it briefly before but never wanted to mention it out of fear that maybe Rachel found something bad. Or secret. She didn't know what exactly that would be, because there were things in that room from when she was nine years old, but the possibility was more than enough. "That must have taken you literal hours . Why?"

"I was bored and couldn't handle looking at the mess for another second, so…I cleaned it." Rachel reached around to lift Chloe's chin with the only free finger she had and kissed the top of her forehead. "You're welcome."

"Well, you're amazing. You really didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to." She nodded softly, but knew that the reassurance wasn't going to be enough. When Rachel looked around, it appeared incredibly suspicious, but the truth of the matter was that she needed something to distract her from thinking about Frank too much so she spent her time cleaning Chloe's room to keep herself busy. That, and the mess looked too similar to his RV. She brushed past the top of Chloe's shirt, making the bullets jingle on her necklace. "I have to earn my keep around here somehow."

Chloe rolled her eyes. Joyce had been way too lenient of having more people in the house than she probably planned for, but she never complained about it. Sometimes she would see her and Rachel chatting it up in the kitchen in the mornings before they all headed to the diner. It was nice.

Out of nowhere, there was the distinct sound of the scissors cutting something thick, like a really big section of hair. A loud crunch preceded the thud as it hit the ground. Rachel kept going as if nothing had happened, but Chloe couldn't just let it slide like that. She knew it was bad. Sweat was forming on her brow, even though it was likely just water dripping from the loose strands of hair.

"Okay," She swallowed hard, starting to squirm in her seat. "That felt like a really big chunk."

"I barely cut off half an inch." Rachel said nonchalantly before bending down to pick up the clump, holding it out in her palm to show her. "Look."

"That's like three inches." Or more. Chloe leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, clearly not too happy about it. "I can feel the wind blowing against my skin now. Is this what it's like to be bald?"

"Why don't you stop turning your head around or I will make you bald." She whispered threateningly in her ear as she quickly became tense. Chloe's shoulders shot up and her posture was as stiff as a board. A small kiss was served to calm her, but it didn't seem to help as much as she wanted.

The hair seemed to multiply and somehow the minutes were passing way too fast. It was taking close to an hour to get anywhere decent without it looking like someone closed their eyes to do it. So much for being a good girlfriend. Rachel was barely holding on to any sanity that she had left. The entire front of her own shirt was soaking wet because the spray bottle had a broken nozzle. This was a really bad idea.

"Do anything else fun while I was gone?" Chloe asked, surprisingly calm despite how long it was taking. There was a noticeable concern in her voice, like she was so desperately holding back from freaking out at what was happening since there was no mirror around, but wasn't going to let herself lose it. There was too much to risk. Like a dangerous blonde standing directly behind her who was wielding sharp objects.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Rachel said slyly, smirking as she twirled one of the blue strands around her finger. "What, besides missing you?"

"Show me."

"Show you?" She raised her eyebrow, suddenly taking advantage of the break from being a hairstylist. The personal connection with her client was starting to become reality. Her hand was being guided around to the front.

"Yeah," Chloe replied huskily, bringing her to sit down on her lap. Her hands wrapped tightly around her waist. "I want to see how much you missed me." She wasn't going to let her go anytime soon until she got a proper 'welcome home'. Two days was long enough.

"Better?" Rachel's hips were drawn closer to her as Chloe's hands pressed firmly against them. She draped her arms around her neck, now having to directly touch the disgusting pirate towel that was a decade too old, but anything for love, she figured.

"Not yet."

"How about now?" She leaned in and slowly kissed her around her neck, teasing in a way that was making her physically shake.

Chloe whimpered. The chair sounded like it was going to break any second. The small bottle filled with water was knocked over and rolled across the room. A biting kiss near her jaw, then a nibble on her ear. She knew every spot that would make her cross the line of no return.

"You're getting warmer." Chloe could barely say as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting herself get completely taken away.

The fire was only just beginning and it was spreading fast, to the point of a wildfire or natural disaster, but was suddenly stopped as quickly as it had started. Chloe was getting too close to the one and only bruise that was on her arm, a big and visible one that was going to be discovered if she ever chose to open her eyes. Rachel wasn't easily able to get pulled out of the moment like that, but that was the one thing did it. The ash was already falling onto the ground like snow.

"I didn't know I was dating Goldilocks." Rachel sighed and narrowed her eyes, starting to fix the flannel that she had now tied around her waist. Frank wasn't even near them, yet his influence was controlling her from her own mind. Fucking scumbag. It was all his fault.

"You're being hella difficult." Chloe looked anywhere but at her, huffing and sniffling in annoyance. "What's going on with you, Rach? You've acted so fucking strange since we got back."

"It's nothing." She huffed. Then sighed again. She couldn't just say what happened, explain in detail that she was physically assaulted by the same guy that was always in the background of their relationship. But it was starting to look like it was going in that direction anyway.

A small glimmer of light, one that at the perfect angle, showed the exact thing that Rachel was trying so hard to hide back, covering her arm in a way that was all too alarming. Chloe gently peeled away her hand.

"What the hell happened?" It was worse than her black eye. Her once sparkling blue eyes were filled with fury, with no plans of stopping. There were too many options and too many chances for her entire world to be shattered right there. Could she have cheated on her the one time she left her alone? She was feeling dizzy. Her breathing was starting to get strained. Her mind raced with all of the potential people she would even remotely want to see again. The list was already short. "Please don't tell me that you were hanging out with Nathan."

"It wasn't Nathan." Rachel shook her head, sinking deeper in her lap. She hated seeing her so upset, again, over a dumb mistake that she had gotten herself into. She didn't deserve it.

"Who? Who did this?" Chloe pressed her thumb against the bruise, then moved her arm to the side to check for more. There were a few scratches but it was only adding to the case. "Who hurt you?"

Rachel just sat there. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place of deciding what to share that wouldn't make it worse. Luckily, Chloe seemed to decide for her.

"Oh, no fucking way." Her eyes went wide at the realization that came all too quickly. It was so obvious from the start. The subtle and not so subtle misdirections and diversions away. Her blood was boiling and her chest tightened with anger. "I'm going to kill him."

Rachel shut her eyes and rested her head on Chloe's shoulder, slowly playing with the now dried hair. It smelled like mint. She didn't notice that before.

"We need to focus on getting out of this shitty town." She tried to deflect, tightening her grasp around her like she was holding on for dear life. In a way, she was. "Stop with this."

"I see why you didn't want me to see Frank now. Good call, I guess." Chloe sighed. David wasn't home and the gun cabinet was a solid option, but adding weapons to conflict with a drug dealer was never the best idea. She wanted so badly to just leave and hunt him down. Murder him in cold blood for causing her pain. She couldn't keep letting him get away with it anymore. He was the result of so much hurt for Rachel and it happened again without her there. She was alone with him. The thought was distressing enough to make nothing else matter now. She clenched her fists at her sides. "Or you would have to bail me out of jail because I–"

"I know you, Chloe." Rachel stopped her and took her hands to hold them in hers, softening the potential blow. "You need to believe me when I say that he's mentally unstable right now. I don't want you anywhere near him."

"But why were you two even together?" She pleaded, searching her eyes for a hidden detail or lost explanation that wasn't coming through. Everything stung.

The one question that Rachel never wanted to answer, but had to. She promised to never lie. She held herself back and tried to change for months, and she wasn't going to let a situation that she never started in the first place bring her back to square one. Chloe didn't need to know every detail and about all of the pictures that no longer existed. Just enough to explain that no one was being disloyal.

"He found me at the beach. Things escalated and I got this." She had to sit herself back for a second to show her that it truly was the only bruise that she had, making sure that she covered all of her bases. Chloe followed her moves hesitantly. "It's fine. I'm fine." She kissed her cheek as softly as she could. "Forget about the haircut and about him. I just want you right now."

A long and understandable sigh was let out. Nothing about this was easy or planned for. Chloe carefully brought her arms back around Rachel's waist again and hugged her protectively. Strongly. The stone of rage was melting away. She was never going to let that happen again, that was for sure. Frank was just some annoying nuisance, almost like a mosquito. Rachel's new earring danced back and forth off her ear, making this little noise every time the metal clinked together. Chloe nestled herself in the crook of her neck and stroked her back in a soothing motion. The radio was starting to become audible again, playing the one song that was about to push her over the edge on the other side of the emotional road. Santa Monica Dream by Angus and Julia Stone. It was too uncanny and too much to handle.

"Okay." Chloe sniffed, but stopped to laugh through the swell of tears that were coming on far too fast. "Consider my memory erased, then."