Chapter Text
(1) New Message From: Victoria Chase
"what's it like?"
Max squinted at her computer screen, averting her gaze as she adjusted the brightness. It was pitch black in her room, save for the usual glaring white glow emanating from her desk. It was a wonder how her roommate just… dealt with it. She reluctantly glanced back at the screen, giving the ominous message another once over.
What the fuck was she supposed to say?
"Victoria, it's 4 am."
"seven here, Caulfield."
Shit. Max had forgotten the three hour time difference that separated them. Even though Blackwell was literally and figuratively miles behind them, it still felt as though Victoria was just across the hall. But this wasn't Blackwell. Valerie was across the hall and... Mackenna? Mackenzie? Whatever. And Max was at her desk while her roommate, Jade, slept like a normal human being.
"Oh yeah :p. What's what like?"
Seen by Victoria at 4:10 am.
Max didn’t want to wait for her response with bated breath, but what else was she supposed to do? It was four in the morning on a Tuesday; she had nothing better to do.
She hadn’t spoken to Victoria in months. Maybe not since graduation. And here they were, three thousand miles apart, talking again. Max’s stomach nervously fluttered; was it anticipation? Dread? Hope? All of the above?
The little speech bubble popped up for a few seconds before disappearing just as quickly. Before popping up again just as quickly and disappearing and popping up and--
"having a dead best friend."
Max's blood ran cold.
She didn't need this. She didn't need Victoria fucking Chase to torment her from across the country. She didn't need Victoria to torment her when she was 10 feet away at Blackwell. She didn't need to be painfully reminded that what's done is done and that Chloe's dead and that it's her fault.
Was this some sort of sick joke?
It had all been one great laugh when Victoria caused Kate to fling herself from the rooftops all those months ago. Except that didn’t happen in this timeline. Kate was here, tangible, alive, living. Max still talked to her all the time. She needed to. She needed to make sure that she was okay in this timeline.
Max was already suffering enough every night. Why else would she be up at 4 am? Chloe was resting eternally; Max didn't deserve sleep. So, she didn't. She stayed up all night. She read photography books. She watched every movie Warren ever recommended twice. She counted every star in the night sky. Anything to keep her eyes open.
Because as soon as she closed them, "bang."
4:19 am.
"Fuck you, Victoria."
4:30 am.
"max."
"nathan's dead."
Victoria let out the breath she was subconsciously holding and slammed her computer shut.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Nathan was so fucking selfish.
Victoria knew that she was selfish for even thinking that, but her eyes were welling with tears, threatening to ruin her skillfully applied makeup.
But the heaviness of it all brought out the nihilist in her.
None of this fucking mattered.
The tears began to spout from her eyes and trickle down her cheeks uncontrollably. She bit the back of her hand, trying to muffle the sound of her choked sobs.
It wasn’t fair.
Nathan had promised.
He had promised, he had broken that promise, he had left this Earth.
And now Victoria was left here to… deal with it. Like she always dealt with it, ever since they were kids. When nine year old Nathan broke his mother’s antique vase on purpose , Victoria cleaned it up. Said it was an accident. Said it wouldn’t happen again. When seventeen year old Nathan got into minor incidents at Blackwell, Victoria bailed him out. Spoke on his behalf. Made him take his meds. It wouldn’t happen again.
But when he shot and killed a girl in the school bathroom, what the fuck could she do?
What do you do when your best friend is a lost cause? Broken beyond repair?
She felt fucking sick.
She wished it had been her.
She wished that it had been her looking down the barrel; she wished for her blood and guts to be splattered all over the bathroom floor instead of some random’s.
No; instead of Chloe Price’s.
Max’s best friend’s.
She kept quiet.
There wasn’t really much to say, really. Not with the aura of a dead girl lingering overhead like Seattle rain clouds. There was too much on the line. There had always been too much on the line, but now all Victoria could do was worry about herself. Worry about her college career, about her future.
She wrote him letters.
She told him she was sorry. Sorry that she hadn’t protected him. Sorry that she had overprotected him. Sorry that she couldn’t come round.
She went round. She visited him.
A week before she left for college. She had said goodbye to Taylor; she had said goodbye to Courtney. She couldn’t just pack up and move across the country without saying goodbye to her best friend. No, not her best friend; her brother. No, not her brother; Nathan Prescott.
It was the most bittersweet; a hello and a goodbye all wrapped up into one neat little package.
Nathan had been doing okay, for Nathan at least.
He was high as a kite.
Which was good, she thought. Maybe he needed to be sedated. It felt as if she were talking to a “normal” person… if zombies were normal and the fucking Walking Dead were real.
She kept writing him letters. The postage was a bitch.
But Nathan was worth it. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it.
He had promised.
(1) New Message From: Maxine Caulfield
“Fuck you, Victoria. What’s it like? You really wanna know what it’s like?
It’s like pulling the fire alarm in the girls’ bathroom like a helpless idiot because your best friend’s insides are all over the floor. It’s like waking up every single day knowing that nothing even matters. It’s like knowing that you’re born alone and you die alone and there’s nothing anyone or anything can do to stop it.
Is that good enough for you?”
Ouch.
When did Max Caulfield grow a fucking spine?
No.
Victoria knew she deserved that. After putting that girl through an entire year of hell, even after her own best friend murdered her best friend, she deserved that. She knew she had a lot of nerve even messaging Max in the first place. They weren’t friends. Victoria knew she didn’t deserve her friendship.
What the fuck was she supposed to say?
She rested her head on her desk in a vain attempt to steady her heart rate. She just had to get through this day. Or at least this class. She… she had promised. After a few beats, she lifted her head and tapped out the best response she could come up with.
“yeah... thanks max.”
Seen by Max at 8:09 am.
“Look Victoria, I’m sorry.”
“yeah... me too.”