[2 Broke Girls] Ch: 41 [Passport, honey & abs]
New
Yesterday
Max's apartment looked like a crime scene. Not a murder scene, unless you count the death of the organization, but more like a robbery in progress. Clothes were strewn across every surface, drawers yanked out, and boxes dumped upside down like a tornado had a grudge against personal belongings.
Caroline stood in the doorway, clutching her neatly packed suitcase to her chest. She watched as Max flung open the fridge, peering into the depths as if her passport might be nestled between a jar of questionable pickles and an expired yogurt. "Max, why would your passport be in the fridge?"
Max straightened, a stray sock hanging from her hair. "I dunno. I put my keys in the freezer once. I thought maybe Past Max was being clever. You know, like a secret hiding spot?"
Caroline's face did a mix of horror and disbelief. "Okay, first, that's not clever—that's chaos. And second, when was the last time you even saw your passport?"
Max tossed a half-empty box of cereal onto the counter. "Uh... I think it was when we thought about running away to Canada after I accidentally sent that drunk text to my ex. You know, the 'I'm outside your window, and I know you're awake' one?"
Caroline cringed. "Oh, right. That was not your finest moment. Did we ever actually pack for Canada, or did you just pass out on the stoop with a half-eaten burrito?"
Max squinted at the ceiling, her lips moving as if doing mental math. "I think it's a bit of both. Wait!" She snapped her fingers. "I had it in that green backpack! The one with the glittery unicorn patch!"
Caroline's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "Great! Where is it?"
Max's expression dimmed instantly. "Uh... I think I lent that backpack to Sophie when she went to that adult summer camp thing. You know, where they pretend to be woodland creatures for a week?"
Caroline's eye twitched. "Max, please tell me you got it back."
"Define 'got it back.'"
Caroline dropped her suitcase onto the couch and marched over to Max. "Okay, new plan. We search every inch of this place. You check your room, and I'll take the kitchen. And for the love of God, try not to break anything!"
Max saluted. "Yes, ma'am! Operation Passport Hunt is a go!"
[Max's Room]
Max dived into her room, or what could technically be called a room if closets counted. She started with the most logical place: the junk drawer. Every apartment had one, but Max's drawer was a black hole of randomness. She pulled it open, its contents immediately spilling over like a budget version of Pandora's box.
"Let's see," she muttered, sifting through the pile. "Receipts, old concert tickets, a broken kazoo, hey—my fake mustache! I wondered where that went." She slapped the mustache on, turning to the mirror. "Hello, I'm Señor Stache. Have you seen my passport?"
The mirror, as usual, offered no help.
She dug deeper, unearthing a half-used tube of superglue, a tangled mess of earbuds, and a stress ball shaped like a potato. "Ugh, where are you, little blue book of freedom?"
Max crawled under the bed next, pushing aside old magazines and a shoebox labeled "Definitely Not A Drug Stash." She flipped it open and well... more receipts, a half-eaten granola bar, and a rubber chicken.
"Why do I own this?" she asked, giving the chicken a squeeze. It squawked miserably, echoing her frustration.
[Kitchen – Caroline's Side]
Caroline was taking a more methodical approach. She opened each cabinet, organizing as she went. Within minutes, she'd rearranged their sad collection of mismatched Tupperware and thrown out three mystery containers from the fridge.
She paused at the junk drawer (the second one—the kitchen edition). It was a mess of rubber bands, loose change, and an instruction manual for a blender they definitely didn't own.
"Why do we have so many batteries?" she muttered, holding up a Ziploc bag stuffed with every size imaginable.
A muffled voice called from the other room. "Those are for emergencies! And also for... uh, never mind."
Caroline chose not to ask. She moved to the pantry, a narrow cabinet that doubled as storage for anything they didn't know what to do with. She started shifting boxes and bags, her brow furrowing. "Max, why is there a roll of duct tape in with the pasta?"
"It's for emergencies!" Max hollered back. "Or if the noodles try to escape."
Caroline rolled her eyes, pulling out a small cardboard box marked "Important Stuff" in Sharpie. She opened it, only to find it full of old takeout menus and a rock with googly eyes glued on it.
She sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"
[Living Room]
The girls met back in the living room, both looking worse for wear. Max had dust bunnies clinging to her pants, and Caroline had a smear of mystery sauce on her sleeve from the fridge.
"Any luck?" Caroline asked, her voice wavering between hope and resignation.
Max dropped a pile of notebooks onto the coffee table. "Nada. But I did find my middle school diary. Did you know I once wrote an angry poem about pepperoni pizza because it burned my tongue?"
Caroline slumped onto the couch. "We're doomed. You're going to miss your chance to go to Tokyo, and I'll have to tell Alex you couldn't come because you're passport-less and possibly cursed."
"Wait! What do you mean by that? You can't leave me alone with this mess!" Max whined, waving at the disaster zone that was her apartment. "Wait a minute! Don't tell me... Ah! I see now. You are happy, aren't you? Without me, you'll get to enjoy two days with Alex, alone."
Caroline tried to hide her smile because, yeah, that did sound nice. "You are just overthinking things, Max."
"Then, what's up with that smile?" Max asked, pointing at Caroline's face.
Caroline's cheeks turned pink, and she quickly wiped the smile off her face. "What smile? There's no smile. Just... regular face. Very normal. Totally not thinking about spending alone time with a charming billionaire in Tokyo."
Max's eyes widened. "I knew it! You little sneak! You were planning to ditch me and have a rom-com adventure with Moneybags. You were probably going to 'accidentally' trip into his arms while cherry blossoms fell in the background."
Caroline sputtered, clutching a cushion to her chest. "What? No! I mean... okay, yes, maybe I thought about what it would be like to spend some time with Alex. But not like that! Just... professionally."
Max snorted. "Please. You've got the kind of crush that needs its own Pinterest board. Admit it. You want him to frost your cupcake."
Caroline's blush deepened, and she buried her face in the cushion. "I hate you. Why do you always make things weird?"
"Because it's my gift," Max said, leaning back with a smirk. "But don't worry, Blondie. If I find my passport, I promise not to ruin your Hallmark movie moment with Alex. I'll be the quirky sidekick who distracts the villains while you two share a slow-motion kiss in front of a temple."
Caroline peeked over the cushion, her voice small. "You really think he'd be interested? I mean, he's... well, him. And I'm just me." For a moment, it completely slipped out of her mind that Max and Alex had a thing. But she quickly realized noticing Max smirk with a raised eyebrow. "I mean... of course not. He's your boyfriend, and I wouldn't dare do anything to..."
"Oh, stop. It's fine. He's not my boyfriend. He was my friend with benefits, but since you're all sweet and vanilla, we haven't been together for a while. I'm ok with sharing Alex with you, as long as you share him with me. How does that sound?"
Caroline took a few seconds to process Max's words. "Wha-?! Eh? Wait, so, you want me to join you and Alex? What exactly do you mean by that? Are you suggesting a three-way?" She stammered.
Max chuckled at her roommate's expression. "You're such a prude. You need to learn to enjoy life. Relax a bit, Caroline. You can't let society tell you what's right and wrong. Do you want to try it or not? Just imagine, Alex's hot naked body... I will drip honey on his chest... The honey will drip down his chest and you will lick it off his abs... Arggg! God, I'm getting wet just thinking about it!"
Caroline's face turned an impressive shade of red as Max painted an increasingly vivid (and absurd) scenario. Her eyes widened, and her mind betrayed her by conjuring a mental image of Alex, shirtless, with strategically placed honey and...
"Ahh! Stop!" Caroline slapped her hands over her ears. "Nope! Nope! I'm not listening to this! My brain is too fragile for your... your... whatever that was!"
Max leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Oh, come on, Blondie. You were totally into it. I saw you zone out. You had that 'staring into the middle distance, but actually imagining abs' look."
Caroline shook her head so hard her curls bounced. "I was not! I was just... processing. Processing how insane you are. And how much I regret being your roommate. And possibly how I might need therapy now."
Max giggled. "Therapy is for quitters. You just need a shot of tequila and a cold shower. Or, you know, a one-way ticket to Tokyo."
Caroline groaned, burying her face in a pillow. "Ugh, I can't believe I even considered it. You always make things weird."
Max leaned over, still smirking. "Weird? Or awesome? Because I think you secretly like the idea of a little international romance. A hot, cherry blossom-flavored adventure. Admit it!"
Caroline tossed the pillow at Max, who caught it and promptly used it as a makeshift hat. "No! I am not going to Tokyo to... to lick honey off anyone's abs! I am going to focus on the bakery, enjoy the scenery, and possibly eat my weight in sushi. That's it. Purely professional. No abs involved."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. You're right. Totally professional. That's why you're still blushing like a middle schooler who just got her first Valentine."
Caroline stood up, hands on her hips, determined to regain control of the conversation and her sanity. "Okay, we are done talking about honey and abs and whatever weird fantasies live in your brain. We need to find your passport, or this whole conversation is moot."
Max let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. Back to the passport hunt. But if I find it, I expect you to at least consider having a little fun in Tokyo. And by fun, I mean..."
"Not another word!" Caroline grabbed Max by the shoulders, spinning her around. "You go search the bedroom. I'll check under the couch cushions. And if you so much as whisper 'honey' again, I will tape your mouth shut with that roll of duct tape I found in the pantry."
Max's grin widened. "Kinky."
Caroline's eye twitched. "Go!"
Max scampered off, still giggling, while Caroline dropped to her knees and started pulling cushions off the couch. Her mind, traitor that it was, kept drifting back to the thought of Alex and his... potential.
"Ugh, stop it!" she hissed to herself, shoving a hand between the couch cushions. Her fingers brushed against something hard, and she yanked it out, revealing an ancient, half-melted candy bar.
"Gross," she muttered, tossing it into the trash. "Focus, Caroline. Find the passport. Avoid eye contact with Max. And definitely stop thinking about... that."
From the other room, Max called out, "Did you say something? I think I found another rubber chicken!"
Caroline closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered a quick prayer for patience. "Lord, give me strength."
She pushed deeper into the cushions, finding a remote control, two dollars in change, and what looked like a tiny action figure missing a leg. No passport.
Max reappeared, a tangle of scarves draped around her neck and a ski mask pulled halfway over her face. "Check it out! I'm a fashionable burglar!"
Caroline didn't even look up. "Did you find your passport, or are you just playing dress-up?"
Max flopped onto the couch, sending a cloud of crumbs into the air. "Nope. But I found my 'Emergency Dance Party' fanny pack. It's got glow sticks, gum, and, like, eight quarters."
"Great. Maybe you can use the quarters to bribe the TSA when they ask for your ID."
Max pouted, pulling the ski mask down over her face. "This is hopeless. My passport's probably in Narnia by now. Or it eloped with my dignity. Either way, it's gone forever."
Caroline sat next to her, gently pulling the mask off Max's head. "We'll find it. It has to be here somewhere. Think. Where else could it be?"
Max groaned, tipping over until her head was in Caroline's lap. "I've looked everywhere. The drawers, the closet, under the bed. Even in the bathroom cabinet. It's like it just disappeared."
Caroline absentmindedly patted Max's head. "Okay, when was the last time you needed it? Maybe retracing your steps will help."
Max scrunched up her face, deep in thought. "Uh... I think it was that time Sophie threw her 'International Love' party, where everyone had to bring a dish from a different country. I was Margarita Mexico."
Caroline blinked. "You wore a sombrero and brought tequila. There was nothing international about it."
Max shot up, nearly headbutting Caroline. "Wait! I remember! I used my passport as part of my costume. It was supposed to make me look 'worldly and mysterious.' I think I put it in a box with all my old party stuff."
Caroline's expression brightened. "Great! Where's the box?"
Max's face fell. "In the shed. Outside. Where Chestnut lives."
Caroline's smile vanished. "You mean the shed that also doubles as the raccoon bachelor pad? The one filled with... whatever horrors you've stashed in there?"
Max nodded. "Yep. The Raccoon Lodge. But it's the only place left to check."
With a resigned sigh, Caroline stood up, brushing crumbs off her pants. "Fine. Let's go. But if I get rabies, I'm suing you."
Max grabbed a flashlight, holding it like a weapon. "Relax. Chestnut will protect us. Probably. Unless he's in one of his moods."
[The Shed – Outside]
The shed sat at the back of the building's tiny yard, a rickety structure with peeling paint and a door that hung slightly askew. It looked like the kind of place where horror movie villains might store their tools of the trade. Or where Max stored her regrets.
Chestnut stood nearby, munching on some suspiciously dry-looking grass. He lifted his head as they approached, giving them a look that could only be described as 'mildly judgmental.'
Max patted his nose. "Hey, buddy. You seen my passport?"
Chestnut snorted and went back to his snack.
Caroline wrapped her arms around herself. "I really hate this shed. It smells like old mulch and lost hope."
Max swung the door open, revealing the chaos within. The small space was crammed with cardboard boxes, old Halloween decorations, a rusty lawn chair, and, in the corner, a pile of what might have once been clothes but now resembled a nest.
Max stepped inside, waving the flashlight. "Okay, let's split up. You check the left side. I'll take the pile of doom over here."
Caroline gingerly picked through a box labeled 'Max's Important Things'—which, unsurprisingly, contained nothing important. Just a tangle of Christmas lights, a broken ukulele, and a half-eaten bag of marshmallows. "Why do you keep this stuff?"
Max, digging through a box of mismatched shoes, shrugged. "You never know when you'll need a marshmallow that's aged like fine wine."
Caroline pulled out a Halloween mask, the kind with the elastic band that always snaps after the second use. "Is this a… werewolf? Or a possum?"
"Both," Max said without looking up. "Sophie's party theme was 'Hybrid Horrors.' She won best costume as a mermaid zombie. I won 'Most Likely to Be Arrested.'"
Caroline dropped the mask back into the box. "That's not even surprising."
Max shoved aside a crate filled with pool noodles and froze. "Wait. I think I found it!"
She yanked out a small cardboard box, its lid barely clinging to the sides. It was labeled in faded Sharpie: 'SUPER SECRET STUFF – DO NOT OPEN (unless you're Max)'
Caroline raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing this is the box?"
Max nodded, prying the lid off. Inside were a random collection of items: an old disposable camera, a deflated whoopee cushion, and a jar filled with pennies. But beneath all the clutter, she found it. A blue booklet, slightly bent at the corners but very much intact.
"My passport!" Max whooped, holding it up like a trophy. "I'm not doomed! Tokyo, here I come!"
Caroline let out a relieved breath. "Thank God. I thought we'd have to get you a fake ID and smuggle you onto the plane in a suitcase."
Max opened the passport, flipping through the pages. "And look! No embarrassing stamps from when I tried to get into Canada dressed as a maple leaf."
Caroline peered into the box. "Uh, Max? What's with all these empty bottles?"
Max glanced over and cringed. "Oh, those are, uh... from my 'Let's Make Slime' phase. The lube bottles were on sale, and it was cheaper than buying real craft supplies."
Caroline picked up an empty bottle, its label peeling off. "Max, this isn't even lube. It's... battery acid? Why do you have expired batteries in here?"
Max took the bottle and squinted at it. "Oh. That explains why the slime never glowed in the dark. I thought it just needed more glitter."
Caroline set the bottle down gently, as if it might explode. "You are a walking safety hazard."
Max grinned. "Yep. And now I'm a walking safety hazard with a valid passport."
Chestnut, still outside, gave a snort of approval. Or maybe he was just judging them. It was hard to tell.
Max slipped the passport into her pocket, linking arms with Caroline. "Come on, Blondie. Let's get back inside. I need to pack, and you need to Google how to say 'Help, I've been kidnapped by a billionaire' in Japanese."
Caroline groaned, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I can't believe this is actually happening. Tokyo. I'm not ready for this."
Max squeezed her arm. "You'll be fine. And if all else fails, just follow my lead. When in doubt, act like you belong. Confidence is the best disguise."
Caroline snorted. "Easy for you to say. You could walk into a biker bar wearing a tutu, and they'd probably buy you a drink."
Max shot her a sly look. "That only happened once. And for the record, I got two free drinks. Because real men respect a woman who owns her look."
They closed the shed door, the mess inside now someone else's problem—preferably Future Max's.
Suddenly, both of them stopped. They opened the door and looked at Chestnut.
"Ok..." Caroline bit her lower lip.
"We forgot about Chestnut..." Max looked at the horse.
"Do you think your sugar daddy can find a place to keep Chestnut?" Caroline asked.
"Oh, now, he becomes my sugar daddy, huh? Say, our sugar daddy and I might call him and ask," Max smirked. "Or I might leave you here and go alone. Ah! Honey and abs, all for Max."
"Please Max, call our sugar daddy and ask for help..." (Max got her good)
2 Broke Girls] Ch: 42 [On the way to Tokyo]
New
4 hours ago
AN: Slightly unedited. Let me know if there are any mistakes. I'll fix them.
--
Max sat on the edge of the folding bed, phone in hand, with Caroline pacing behind her like a hamster on too much caffeine. Chestnut, their beloved (and somewhat judgmental) horse, stared at them with a look that said, 'So, what's the plan, humans?' His expression was a perfect mix of curiosity and disdain, like a high school principal who just found out you clogged the toilet with paper towels.
Max took her phone out of her pocket and dialed Alex's number. She threw a conspiratorial look at Caroline. "Watch and learn, Blondie. This is how you handle a sugar daddy."
Caroline whispered, "Are you sure it's okay to call him? It's, like, midnight."
Max shrugged. "He's in Tokyo. It's a totally reasonable hour for him. Plus, he's our sugar daddy. Sugar daddies love late-night calls, right?"
Caroline smacked her arm. "Stop calling him that! He helps us out, yeah. But he's not your sugar daddy."
Max's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Ok. Our sugar daddy. Happy? Geez, so jealous."
The phone rang twice before Alex's voice came through, smooth as ever. "Max? Everything okay?"
"Hey, Moneybags! Quick question... how do you feel about emergency horse storage?"
There was a pause. "Emergency... what now?"
Max shot Caroline a look, mouthing stay calm. "Yeah, so, tiny issue. We found my passport, yay! But, uh, we also realized we can't exactly bring Chestnut with us. You know, because international flights frown on a horse in economy class. Shocking, I know."
Alex chuckled. "Yeah, airlines can be so picky. What do you need?"
Caroline leaned in, whispering, "Be polite! Be professional!"
Max shooed her away. "Basically, we need a safe place for Chestnut while we're gone. Somewhere with, like, food and maybe a stable. You know, typical horse hotel stuff. Do those exist?"
"I can make a call," Alex said without hesitation. "I'll have someone pick him up in the morning. He'll be in good hands."
Caroline's eyes widened, and she mouthed, 'He said yes?'
Max gave her a thumbs-up. "Oh my God, thank you! You're the best. I promise he's not too high-maintenance. He mostly just eats and judges us. You know, like a horsey version of Gordon Ramsay."
Alex laughed. "I think we can handle him. He'll be more comfortable than us, probably. You two just focus on getting ready for the trip."
"Will do. And don't worry, he doesn't bite. Well, not unless you're holding a carrot and hesitating. He doesn't respect indecisiveness."
"I'll make sure to pass that along," Alex said, his voice laced with amusement. "Anything else? Do I need to hire a raccoon whisperer or snake charmer, too?"
Max smirked. "Nope, just the horse. Unless you've got a guy who handles squirrels. They've been looking at me funny lately, and I don't trust them."
"I'll add it to the list," he said, and Max could practically hear his smile. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you both soon."
Max hung up, turning to Caroline with a triumphant grin. "Boom! Problem solved. Our sugar daddy's got it covered."
Caroline groaned but couldn't hide her relief. "Okay, fine. He's amazing. But please, for the love of all things holy, stop calling him that."
Max winked. "You know, I would. But it bothers you so much, and that's, like, 90% of my motivation in life."
Caroline flopped onto the bed, exhausted. "At this point, I'll take it. Just as long as Chestnut is safe and we're not banned from Tokyo before we even get there."
Max stretched out next to her. "See? Everything's working out. We're going to Tokyo, our horse is getting the royal treatment, and you might get to flirt with Mr. Frost-Your-Cupcakes."
Caroline threw a pillow over her face. "If I suffocate, it's your fault."
Max snorted. "If you die, I'm still going to Tokyo. I'll take selfies with samurai swords and bring you back a souvenir. Maybe a little shrine charm for 'Roommate Ghosts Who Haunt the Living.'"
Caroline's muffled voice groaned from under the pillow. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if Chestnut tries to break in or if you have another 'genius' idea that requires bail money."
Max turned off the light, a satisfied smile lingering on her face. "Night, Blondie. Dream of sushi and cherry blossoms. And maybe a little frosting... on cupcakes, of course."
Caroline let out a dramatic sigh, but Max could hear the tiny laugh hidden under it. With Chestnut taken care of and their Tokyo adventure just a sunrise away, Max finally allowed herself to close her eyes, ready for whatever craziness awaited them.
As for Chestnut, he continued chewing on the grass, blissfully unaware that he was about to experience a luxury vacation of his own.
[Morning]
The morning sunlight slipped through the dusty window blinds, casting streaks of light over the chaotic apartment. Max and Caroline were up before the alarm, a rare and miraculous event. The combination of adrenaline and the promise of Tokyo had them wide awake and moving like two very excited, slightly disorganized tornadoes.
Max darted into the bathroom first, shouting over the running water, "I call first shower! Last time, you used up all the hot water, and I had to wash my hair in what felt like glacier runoff!"
Caroline, rummaging through her neatly packed suitcase, rolled her eyes. "You spent twenty minutes singing show tunes. What did you expect? And, for the record, your rendition of 'Defying Gravity' is not worth hypothermia."
Max's voice echoed from the bathroom, "It was worth it, and you know it! I hit those high notes like a pro. Besides, if I can survive an ice shower, I can handle whatever Tokyo throws at me!"
Fifteen minutes later, Max emerged, hair wrapped in a towel and steam billowing out behind her like she'd just exited a rock concert. "All yours, Blondie! Try not to use all the shampoo. I don't want to smell like lavender and anxiety again."
Caroline zipped past her, clutching her toiletry bag. "If I smell like anxiety, it's because of you!"
As Caroline showered, Max pulled on her best pair of ripped jeans, a soft black T-shirt, and a red plaid shirt tied around her waist. She opted for her trusty combat boots—the same ones she wore when they escaped that particularly aggressive bachelorette party at the diner.
By the time Caroline emerged, fresh-faced and smelling like vanilla, Max had already crammed her essentials into a duffel bag. Caroline, on the other hand, had neatly folded her clothes into a small, tidy suitcase. The two bags sitting side by side were a perfect metaphor for their personalities. Max's looked like it had been packed by a hurricane, and Caroline's resembled a display in a travel agency window.
A text buzzed on Max's phone. She read it out loud. "Your car is waiting downstairs. Safe travels. —A"
Caroline's eyes widened. "He really did send a car! I thought you were joking."
Max threw on her denim jacket, adjusting her collar with a smirk. "Oh, ye of little faith. Our sugar daddy delivers. Come on, let's go see how the other half travels."
[Outside]
The black SUV parked at the curb was as sleek as a panther in a tuxedo. The driver, a well-dressed man with a crisp black suit and an expression of quiet professionalism, stepped out and opened the door for them.
Max whistled. "Damn. I feel like we're about to go rob a bank in style. Or get recruited by the Men in Black."
Caroline elbowed her. "Stop it. Act normal. Like we do this all the time."
Max snorted. "If I act normal, we'll end up hitchhiking to the airport. I'm bringing my A-game today."
They slid into the back seat, and Caroline's eyes immediately widened at the fully stocked snack bar and the soft leather seats. Max grabbed a bottle of water and a pack of gummy bears, reclining as if she'd been riding in private cars her whole life.
"Ah!" Caroline took a deep breath as she leaned back. "It's been a while..." She was in tears remembering her old rich life.
Max just patted her shoulder.
[Private Airport]
The SUV pulled up to a private terminal, bypassing the usual chaos of the main airport. There was no TSA line, no overworked staff yelling about liquids, and no crying babies. Just a quiet terminal with floor-to-ceiling windows and a pristine runway beyond.
A sleek white jet sat waiting, the kind of plane that only existed in movies or the Instagram stories of influencers. The name "Wilson" was subtly printed near the door, which was open and ready for boarding.
Max stood at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth open. "Holy crap. I thought it would be a nice plane, but I didn't think it would be... a supermodel plane."
Caroline grabbed Max's hand, dragging her up the stairs. "Come on. If you stare too long, they might think we're lost."
Inside, the plane was a wonderland of luxury. Plush leather seats, soft lighting, and wood paneling that gleamed like it had just been polished by someone who really loved their job. There were individual recliners, a couch, and even a small dining area. A large flat-screen TV hung on the wall, and a mini bar glowed with soft backlighting.
Max immediately bee-lined for the fridge, popping it open. "Oh my God, Blondie, they have tiny sandwiches! And not the sad kind, either... these are the kind with cucumber and no crusts!"
Caroline laughed, settling into one of the reclining seats. "This is amazing. I feel like I'm going to wake up any second and find out I'm still in our apartment, surrounded by the smell of burnt toast."
Max grabbed a sandwich, a bottle of soda, and plopped down next to Caroline. "Pinch yourself. This is happening. We're two broke girls on a billionaire's jet, heading to Tokyo. If I'm dreaming, I'm never waking up."
The flight attendant, a friendly woman with a polished smile, approached them. "Good morning, ladies. We'll be taking off shortly. If you need anything, just let me know."
Max leaned over to Caroline, whispering, "Do you think she knows we're not rich? Should I try to sound fancy? Maybe ask for 'seltzer with a twist'?"
Caroline grinned. "Just be yourself. But maybe don't ask if they have hot dogs. Keep the mystery alive."
Max flopped back in her seat, her grin wide. "You're right. I'm gonna play it cool. Like, 'Oh yes, darling, I'll take a glass of your finest... whatever doesn't cost extra.'"
As the plane began to taxi down the runway, Max and Caroline shared a look, one that said everything. This was real. They were really doing this. And for the first time in a long time, things felt like they were looking up.
Max reached over, grabbing Caroline's hand. "Buckle up, Blondie. We're going to Tokyo."
Caroline squeezed her hand back, her smile soft but wide. "Ready as I'll ever be."
The plane sped up, and as it lifted off the ground, so did their spirits. Somewhere below, Chestnut was likely being chauffeured to his own fancy new digs, probably munching on designer hay.
[A few minutes later...]
Max, fully embracing the luxury of the private jet, had already kicked off her boots and was wandering around the cabin like a kid in a candy store. Caroline, ever the responsible one, had buckled herself into her seat and was browsing through the in-flight movie selection with a mix of awe and disbelief.
"Okay, they have literally every movie ever made," Caroline murmured. "Even that weird French film where everyone was just whispering and staring out of windows."
Max wasn't listening. She had found the kitchenette, complete with a stainless steel fridge and a freezer drawer that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel suite. She pulled it open, half expecting to find, like, fancy ice cubes or maybe an entire lobster on ice. Instead, she found a drawer packed with tiny, perfectly labeled containers.
"Caroline!" she hissed. "Get over here. The rich have snacks I can't even identify!"
Caroline, torn away from an episode of The Great British Bake Off, sighed but got up to join her. "What is it now?"
Max held up a small, glass container. "Look! There's gelato! And not just any gelato—this says 'Saffron Pistachio' and 'Rosewater Cardamom.' What kind of flavors are these? Did they just wander into a spice market and say, 'Yes, all of it, please'?"
Caroline's eyes widened. "Is this... caviar?" She picked up a tiny jar with a label in French. "Oh my God. This jar probably costs more than our rent."
Max popped open a container of gelato, scooping a bit with her finger and tasting it. "Holy crap. It's like eating a sunset. And not the cheap kind... the expensive kind with the pink and gold. You need to try this."
Caroline hesitated. "Isn't this for... you know, important people? What if it's meant for, like, Tom Hanks or Helen Mirren?"
Max scooped a bigger bite. "If Tom Hanks wanted this, he should've gotten on the plane first. Open up, Blondie."
Before Caroline could protest, Max shoved the spoonful of gelato into her mouth. Her eyes widened, and a blissful look washed over her face. "Okay... yeah, that's ridiculous. What else do they have?"
The two of them rummaged through the freezer like raccoons in a dumpster, unearthing tiny, gourmet popsicles, pre-made sushi rolls, and an entire tray of macarons. Max stuffed a macaron into her mouth, her eyes lighting up. "Mmf! These are like little cookies from heaven."
Caroline laughed, popping a tiny sushi roll into her mouth. "If this is how the other half lives, I'm never going back."
Max pulled out a box from the bottom shelf of the freezer. "Ooh, what's this? Pre-made cocktail popsicles? They've got mojito, piña colada, and... get this... frozen sangria!"
Caroline took one of the icy treats, tearing off the wrapper. "Okay, I officially love this plane. I don't even care if we're flying to Tokyo or Timbuktu. As long as there are more of these, I'm on board."
[The Bar]
After clearing out a reasonable portion of the freezer's treasures, Max set her sights on the jet's bar. It was a sleek, fully stocked setup with bottles of alcohol that looked like they were distilled by monks in a secret mountain monastery.
Max ran her fingers over the crystal bottles, reading labels that sounded more like fairy tales than booze. "Caroline, I think I just found the Holy Grail. And it's filled with gin."
Caroline leaned over the bar, her fingers brushing over a set of polished shakers and a tray of fresh citrus fruits. "Are we allowed to make our own drinks? Isn't there a flight attendant for that?"
Max grabbed a shaker, giving it a little toss. "Please. We can't just sit back and let someone else do the work. Where's the fun in that? Besides, I've seen like, every episode of Bar Rescue. How hard can it be?"
Caroline took a cautious step back. "Famous last words. Just... promise me you won't set anything on fire. Or accidentally invent a new kind of explosive."
Max ignored her, already assembling her ingredients. She found a cocktail recipe book stashed under the bar and flipped through the pages. "Let's see... Old Fashioned? Boring. Martini? Too James Bond. Ah-ha! A Tokyo Sunset. Perfect."
She poured a splash of gin, a bit of lychee liqueur, and a hint of grenadine into the shaker, then squeezed a lime over the mix. She added ice, slapped on the shaker top, and started shaking with a rhythm that suggested either natural talent or pure, unfiltered chaos.
Caroline watched with a mix of horror and amusement. "You're going to spill that everywhere."
Max rolled her eyes. "Relax. I've got this. Watch and learn."
She pulled off the shaker lid and began to pour the drink into a fancy glass—except, halfway through, the top slipped off, and a cascade of pink liquid splashed across the bar. A few drops even hit the ceiling.
Caroline burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Max! What did I say?"
Max held up the glass, now half full, and grinned. "It's fine! The plane needed a little color. It's an art installation. I call it 'Oops, I Did It Again.'"
She wiped up the spill with a napkin, then handed the glass to Caroline. "Here. You're the first victim—uh, I mean, taste tester."
Caroline took a cautious sip, her eyebrows shooting up. "Whoa... this is actually good. Like, really good. How did you...?"
Max leaned against the bar, a cocky grin on her face. "Talent, Blondie. Pure, unadulterated talent. And maybe a bit of luck. Mostly luck."
The two of them made a few more drinks, each one a little more colorful and creatively named than the last. By the time the flight attendant came by to check on them, the bar looked like a tropical storm had hit it, with citrus peels and tiny umbrellas strewn everywhere.
The flight attendant, ever professional, just smiled. "Can I get you ladies anything else?"
Max, holding a blue and purple concoction she had dubbed 'The Jet Lag Jamboree,' raised her glass. "We're good! Just enjoying the view. And, uh, experimenting with mixology. Hope we're not breaking any airplane laws."
The attendant gave them a nod. "Not at all. Feel free to let me know if you'd like a proper cocktail menu or if you need help finding more ingredients."
Caroline, now a bit giggly from the cocktails, whispered to Max, "I think we've been adopted by the rich people. We're like those kids at the party who everyone knows shouldn't be there, but no one wants to kick out because we're fun."
Max clinked her glass against Caroline's. "Damn right. Here's to living the high life, even if it's just for a few days. Tokyo, here we come!"
Well, mid flight, both fell asleep...