This thought. One annoying, painful thought she couldn't scratch off, erase like an unwanted scribble, moving on to something less itchy or mentally pleasant. One impression that always paved its way up, not bothered by any crossroads and obstacles she nervously tried to build up. One need that was making her sick to her stomach, tightening it into a firm, tense knot, making her panicky with her hands shaking. One fucking thought returning, tickling, prickling and burning, changing doubts into statements and making her scream silently every time it reappeared or even lingered in her mind's outskirts. Always there. Constantly.

Messing her up.

It was unfair though. Damn fucking wrong. She couldn't sleep, eat, work, and even simply reading a textbook was an issue. For a second or two she was fine, shaking it off and being able to function, but then it hit her again, like a bucket of cold water reminding about the previous mistakes, quick words, or decisions that led to a dead end. Sorely remaining between one breath and another anxious gasp, it showed up yet again with full force and then cheerfully disturbed all the tasks she tried to dive herself into. Stupid. Damn unnecessary. Ridiculous. Annoyed as hell, Steph wanted to yell at herself, tearing those questions apart, scrape it off, walling herself off, but nothing had worked so far. The thought was there anyway though, forcing her to follow every glimpse of the small figure emerging in the shadows, materializing like an unwanted dream, a throbbing commotion.

A shape she had known so well.

Max Caufield, was standing only thirty feet from the white van, chatting cheerfully, laughing, and sipping on her drink, taking a break from a steamy, rhythm pulsating, smoke-filled club. The party was in full swing, but she didn't care, finding the reviving conversation with the Vortex club members way more interesting than the dancefloor itself. The latter wasn't amazingly shocking though, but the crowd she had been surrounding herself with was more than problematic. To Steph's astonishment, they were welcoming and hugging her like a longtime friend, even if a few weeks ago the top dogs of the Blackwell assholity association would have a severe problem remembering her name. Even if still shy and playing things close to her chest, Max Caulfield apparently treasured their attention, swimming in the deep waters of half-sober chit-chat with grace and unpredictably keeping them hungry for more. Courtney, Dana, Hayden, even Warren Graham, who was more like a Vortex follower than a member, stopped by, determined to get to know her better. Echoes of their voices, mixed with the low, steady, heartbeat of club music were melting in the cold air, fueled by the clouds of their breaths and cackles. It was hard to say if the little freckle actually ignored the white van and its proud owner on purpose or by accident, too busy with switching between the topics, laughing at another joke or letting someone borrow a lighter. A lighter that the Max Caulfield Steph had known had never carried.

Obviously, things had changed and they changed quickly, evolved into this weird version of reality. It was hypothetically typical though, healthy and more than acceptable. People moved on, made new friends, tested their limits and left their safety nets. Why would Max be an exception? Because she was so special, still special, against all the odds and confirmations that this was definitely over? Because staring at her still was hurting? Finally fighting with an overpowering depression and discovering how much her company was appreciated was clearly working for the little freckle though. Good. Well. Not good. Seeing her unhappy and miserable, following Chloe or just sitting in the library alone, had been heartbreaking for Steph but now watching her like behaving that, so far away, distant and different, felt abnormal in the worst possible way. Max had never been the party type though, purposely avoiding the cluster of sweat and illegal vice, but now was happily serving herself quite a shock therapy. To be fair, she was still treating those festivities as a delicate ground, however, slowly but surely getting accustomed to the unique concept that being social wasn't as scary as she had previously thought. Well, fuck it. It was normal. Looked-for. Needed. Great for her, right?

Not right.

This fucking thought. This need of stopping her, not letting her deep dive into the Vortex abyss. This demand to hug her, maybe for a second too long, to look into her eyes and crack a better joke than those dick-waffles were popping. Make her smile, make her feel better not because her sorrow was Steph's fault overall, but she deserved the best. Just to do something so Max wouldn't have to blend with those people, just… Because…

Steph scoffed. This pondering about the impossible was getting out of hand. Pretending not to be interested at all and hiding in the dark stomach of her van, she turned around ready to get back to work. Not able to focus, almost immediately she stumbled upon a Tupperware filled with nails, pins, and screws. Steph lost her balance and almost fell to her knees, stopped mercifully by the metal containers. The van trembled, rocking from left to right, when hissing from pain, she tried to get up. Then she froze, hoping that this sudden noise didn't get anybody's attention. The last thing Steph needed was this wild bunch jumping on to help. She was safe though. Max couldn't care less, ignoring the clamor, too busy with discussing the plans for tonight. Blind, deaf and away.

Was it something that Steph wanted though?

Her ex seemed liberated. Happy. Free. Content. On the right path. Fusing and blending with the pack, getting their attention and appreciation, the little freckle left her shell and taught herself how to dance. Max. Her Max. No, not hers anymore. Mumbling a profanity, Steph closed her eyes, but it didn't help. Despite her supposedly amazing new life, she couldn't stop weirdly regretting of letting this delicate, sensitive creature go. Fucked up, right? Thinking about her and asking herself those burning questions starting with a bunch of what ifsand how so's, was nerve-wracking though. Ex-girlfriends didn't become exes out of nowhere and recalling only the joyful moments was a mistake. A huge mistake that Steph kept repeating every other breath for the last week or so.

Or longer.

Sniffling, she turned her head avoiding looking at the little freckle and grabbing another perfectly coiled up cable basking on her van's floor like a tamed, sleeping snake. It definitely needed to be rolled yet again. The strive for perfection was always helping when it came to an unwanted contemplation and served as a perfect distraction. Her hand hurt, but it was too dark to estimate the damage. The pain was actually refreshing, just like a breath of air from the smoking pack outside. It made her feel good, bad, cold, wrong, and damn lonely.

Lonely.

The cable almost slipped from her cold and stiff fingers. Close to tears, Steph felt so betrayed and isolated, not only because Max was so out of reach, her palm was indeed bleeding, or it was yet another evening spent on diving into work. Recently she learned that there were different stages of loneliness. First, it was the basic one, excruciatingly sad when you became invisible to others. Then the next stage, a painful emptiness when you parted ways with somebody close. And then the worst, when everything was allegedly fine and dandy, but not, and she felt left out without a reason and lost with the raging fire of her own mind. Her brand new and exciting relationship was supposedly still blooming though. For months if not years, Steph had prayed and begged for Kris to come back, but when it had happened, the charm quickly got old. There was some truth to the saying that walking into the same river didn't pay back. Or something. Steph wasn't that big on quotes or sayings.

It just wasn't the same as with Max.

To be entirely honest, Kris, lovely, caring and damn great in bed, was still persistent about building their future together, but it seemed more like a harsh business plan than a fairy tale. The Prescott's daughter quickly took over the family fortune and started to solve a lot of issues with tons of money, not able to understand that for some stage managers it wasn't the only way to go. Surprising Steph with expensive gifts and trips became a new norm, while Kris herself got back to her former life, keeping in touch with wealthy and powerful friends. These people didn't really take Gandalf the gay seriously, more tolerating her around than bonding or even making an effort to know her better. It wasn't just the difference between the social statuses and in wealth but also age. Folks who surrounded Kris talked about their companies, families, marriages or how to get a loan for their first business venture, something that a college kid, as they liked to call Steph, wasn't very much into. Kid, just a kid, grow up faster, they laughed at her face and Kris was just politely smiling, not really helping much. Fuck, Steph hated their guts, and the fact that she lost touch with her own friends didn't help either. On top of everything, her girlfriend was always damn fucking busy, either working, managing or spending time with her annoying crew. A lot of dates got delayed, a lot of meetings canceled, since there was always yet another conference call with New York, another foundation report to read or some charity event to prepare for. Prescott's time was precious, Steph's not so much.

Making up was even worse sometimes as she had been taken to Paris twice in the last two months, gotten a new watch, new phone, new laptop and when offered her rent to be paid by her girlfriend, she bluntly refused. Steph started to feel like a trophy wife, already conquered, tamed and taken for granted. Yes, sure, Kris was adorable, cute, amazing and loving. Yes, their sex life was more than satisfying. Yes, she was fun, but never really listened trying to pay for her mistakes with a stash of Benjamins rather than actual effort. Cash she didn't really make but inherited though, and spent insanely easily, compensating them both for the rough time in Brazil. Yet, spoiling was mixed with the small suggestions that this stage-managing thing couldn't be a choice of life and Steph should actually widen her horizons, finding something more appropriate to do than dragging around some old metal cases every Friday. Like, for example, considering a splendid career that would fit the rich bitch profile, or just exist, waiting for Kris at home, preferably with a glass of wine in her hand and not entirely dressed. Great. Well, not that great though. Fucking terrible. Steph hated being dependent, and her legendary patience was running drastically damn low. Biting her tongue, she withstood a lot, but it was a matter of time for this dam to break entirely. Lately, they had been arguing more times than Steph could count, leaving them both empty-handed and not improving things even a slight bit. Perhaps that was why Steph woke up almost every night dreaming about this one particular person, one shy butterfly who she decided to ditch nearly six months prior and then sealed the deal jumping into the arms of her first girlfriend so hastily. This door was closed though, shut down, done, but Steph found herself missing Max more than she was able to admit. They had had problems too, sure, but nothing they couldn't deal with together in the long run.

Together. Great. Well, not really. Fuck.

The cable was rolled up. Done. She really should unload this van, check in and drive away, but such a simple thing as getting out became an issue. Steph found herself so damn afraid that Max would notice her, even if deep down she hoped to be spotted. Walking back and forth, like a wild animal in a small cage, she contemplated what to do next, wishing the little freckle would get back to the party and missing her sight already.

The club's back door busted open, rattling and squeaking, getting shut back quickly before too much of blasting steam, booming music or pumping lights escaped the steamy inside. Somebody yelled, somebody else cursed, a trot of quick steps and a zip of a lighter followed. One more joined the small crew outside immediately involved in the banter, endeavoring to fit in amongst the dry smiles flavored with the mid-February cold. Lurking outside, Steph tried to guess who that could be, but the backyard shadows always became way deeper after the glimpse of the club's blinding light, keeping the smokers safe and unrecognizable. It might as well be one of Arcadia Bay's residents though, not necessary a Blackwell apprentice. Students and locals mingled rarely, but the Vortex club made a gracious exception, allowing the college frat packs to get drunk and high with sons and daughters of unemployed fishermen and lumberjacks. It was Valentine's day for crying out loud though, no one wanted or deserved to be lonely. This and cheap beer and shots of vodka served without any burning questions about IDs or date of birth in general.

A Valentine's day Steph was spending in her white van though, with her hand bleeding, shaking from cold and sweating to the bone. Alone. Her girl was supposed to show up soon, but God knew when and if it would happen. Perhaps Kris would just message her calling the whole thing off or maybe she would be sweet and apologetic again, only to repeat the entire thing in a few hours, days or weeks.

Max would never do that. Never.

Would she?

Feeling a weird wetness on her cheeks, Steph took a deep breath. Tired of running in circles in a mental marathon, one day questioning her feelings for the actual girlfriend, the other laughing at her doubts, she had never felt so lost before. Sometimes she was able to convince herself that her confusion was caused by the rapid change in Max's behavior, on the other hand, the feelings toward the little freckle intensified more and more. Oh, and Kris of course. She loved Kris, she would always love Kris, but then again, her girlfriend was driving her fucking crazy. Up and down, back and forth, amusing as fucking hell. Although even if breaking up wasn't really on her list, Kris and she didn't get along that well. Moreover, they both knew it was more than just a short-lived crisis with some sweet moments here and there, mostly between the sheets. In conclusion, every single day Steph felt more and more like a cheater in the making, thinking about one and being with the other, even if there was no actual chance for any betrayal occurring. Keeping her distance, Max was of course polite enough to greet her and even ask some very random, basic questions about the weather or even the Prescotts, but then usually wandered off quickly. Smart. Clever. Cool. Well, not that much.

Not cool at all.

When somebody banged on the van's side, Steph almost got a heart attack.

"Gingrich the great or Gandy the gay." Victoria crossed her arms on her chest leaning over the car. It had been quite some time since the fashion snake decided to brighten her existence with a direct conversation. Well, quite refreshing as well. "I was always wondering why people think you're so wise and yet you keep making the same mistakes over and over. I didn't expect to see you here though especially in that kind of…" Chase's eyes narrowed into two green, vicious lines. "…position. Tying to train with free weights for your dragon hunting?"

"Delivering light," Steph mumbled back, not willing to get into a fight and rubbing her eyes quickly. The last thing she needed was the fashion snake noticing one of her mortal enemies tearing up for no reason. Not to mention, there were two explanations for Victoria to start a chit-chat without her minions around. Either it was for information she would love to obtain, more than likely about Kris, or Chase was simply bored out of her mind, looking for easy prey. Both options were shit. The cables got even more interesting than before. Or the cases. Cases needed to be moved. Or something. Somehow. Like now.

She turned around acting like she was busy.

Victoria straightened up, not really convinced. "I thought that kind of filthy work wasn't your area of interest anymore." She pursed her lips. The fact that she had to yell inside the van to outshout the rumble was humiliating. This girl wanted to ignore her, well, good fucking luck. "Or perhaps you're just addicted to filth."

The noise in the van got cut immediately, and Victoria could feel this girl's blood boiling. Nothing tasted better than a sweet and short provocation, even if caused by a low blow.

"I'm addicted to the things I love," Steph responded slowly, finally reappearing, jumping off and closing the van's door. Close to snapping, she had to use all her strength to remain calm. It was a shitty day that really didn't need a cherry on top in the form of a blonde, nosey bitch. "And people. I'm leaving all the filth to you."

That had to hurt, but Victoria didn't respond at once, was watching her for a moment, idling on her words and wondering how far she'd be willing to go. The infamous affair between Steph and Nathan's sister was no secret by any means by now, even if the couple liked to think otherwise. On the other hand, biting back and using it to her leverage could cost the fashion snake a lot. Gandy, Gandalf, Gollum or whatever this girl was called amongst her peers had some serious connections now and could complicate Victoria's life in a snap. It would be nice to play with her a bit though and actually have some fun today, since everybody was so disgustingly nice talking about love, heart-shaped cookies and vomiting pink.

The club's back door got slammed again. Somebody got greeted with a yell and a wave. Trot, snap, lighter's zip, Max laughing again, some hugs. Even if tempted, Steph didn't peer at them focusing on the fashion snake only. Victoria moved nervously, bit her lip and then took a step forward hiding in the vehicle's shadow. It would be a disgrace to be seen talking to 20 percent of Arcadia Bay's gay population on Valentine's day without a real or fake date waiting for her inside. Some people would make a very wrong assumption, and she wouldn't hear the end of the stupid homo jokes.

"Addictions can be deadly." She said finally, still tempted to tease Kris's new favorite.

"So can curiosity be," Steph responded looking straight into the green, narrowed eyes and doing everything not to seem interested in the smoking crew. Usually invisible or left alone by the popular crowd, she had never been so tempted to strangle Victoria Chase with her bare hands. Since it wasn't an option, a good word fight had to suffice.

It got cut short though.

"Victoria Chase in all her glory decided to join the dyke club?" The awkward standoff was torn apart by a familiar voice resonating in the dark. Dragging a smoke, Chloe slowly approached them, walking a little bit funny. A certain amount of beers or a secretly smoked joint was probably to blame, but she looked damn sober regarding the circumstances. "And flirting with my dear friend here?" Theatrically shaking her hand, the blue pirate smirked mischievously, knowing exactly how to strike. Rachel trained her well though. The next step would be calling this bitch Tori. "About time, girl, good for you. And what a day to actually take this step." She tapped the van's side and grinned widely, knowing that even suggesting such a thing would make Victoria go nuts.

The fashion snake looked like she was about to bite off the blue pirate's head.

"I would never fall so low." Not willing to make a spectacle out of herself and still trying to remain hidden, she rose her chin up ready for a fight. Scaring this punk asshole shouldn't be that hard. "Fuck off, Price."

A dangerous spark appeared in the blue eyes as Chloe just laughed out loud getting everybody's attention. Provoking Victoria wasn't one of her main goals but regarding how Chase had been acting lately it would be a sin to miss this opportunity. Victoria had been a monstrous bitch while hanging out with Nathan. Without him, she hit a new low getting into everybody's business, and a few quite random acts of kindness didn't change the current of the outgoing war between her, Rachel, and everybody involved. It just got worse.

Not to mention the blue rebel had a secret plan in her mind.

"That's an interesting way to pronounce be my valentine." Putting her hand on Chase's shoulder felt like petting an alligator. Chloe winked still grinning. "Sorry, Victoria, I'm more than taken, but if you need a good tip on how to start let me know. I'll fill you in. Not literally though." She lowered her voice to a conspiracy whisper and then chuckled again when her hand got shaken off, and Chase turned around almost running back to the club. "Good luck with your hunting!" Chloe yelled after her, took a long drag of her smoke and then turned to Steph, who opened up the van again trying to disappear as well. "Need a hand?" She offered as if nothing had happened and it was the most natural thing to say.

Well, it was. A long time ago.

It had been a while since they talked for real. Ages. Months. Felt like years. Yet another thing that went to shit lately although it was a very wrong time and place for a possible reunion. Having Chloe around felt like coming home though, like something was finally turning out fine. This rebel had her back regardless, even if it meant kicking Victoria's gold-plated and diamond studded ass. Touching. So touching that Steph almost teared up again.

Weird. Fuck. Well… Damn it.

"Nah, I'm good," she responded shaking her head, keeping her hands busy and hoping that this weird chest tightening hadn't affected her voice. "Thanks." Chloe didn't walk away though, still smoking and watching her a little too intensely. Chasing Chase away gave her the opportunity to finally bond with her friend and wasn't going to waste this chance even if the only thing the blue pirate could think of was just standing there awkwardly. "Do you have any gloves?" Steph murmured hissing in pain, still bleeding and trying to push one of the crates out. The help came immediately though. Despite the fact that they weren't very much on speaking terms, the blue rebel was always up for some loading, unloading and serious conversation with one of her best friends.

Just like the good, old times.

They wrestled with the previously picked luggage for a second. This old mixer packed with an amp weighed tons but none of them wanted to give up, huffing and puffing while pushing it out. It would be reasonable to walk to the Vortex pack and ask some jerks to prove their muscles' strength, but both of them subconsciously preferred to keep it private.

"Nope, I came unprotected." Chloe confessed panting heavily, when they finally put the metal box on the cold, muddy ground. "How are things?" She tried once again to act casual and friendly, but the elephant in the room, or actually the van was just too big of a beast. An inaudible mumble was the only answer. Well, shit. Talking to Steph had been probably one of the easiest things in the world and now seemed so difficult. How did people do small talk though? "Does Max know you're here?" She asked before biting her tongue and calling herself all the names in the book. Mentioning the little freckle was the worst thing she could've done but coming here she was repeating in mind not to mention Max, not to even say her name, no Max, no, no… And of course, did it in the first five minutes.

Hella great. Congrats.

"Of course, she does." Steph winced and took a step back like a little kid caught stealing cookies. Peering at the chatty bunch by the door she noticed that Max was gone as well though, probably getting back to the party or following Victoria. Anyway, she had to notice Steph's presence before, one way or another. This white van was quite recognizable after all, and it became a school tradition for Steph to show up helping with the sound system. So, Max knew. Probably. Hopefully. Perhaps. "Who do you think I am, Chloe?" Seeing the bewilderment so widely painted on the pirate's face, she took a deep breath trying to put herself together. "Sorry, I hoped to be done with it before I stumbled upon one of you."

"One of us? You mean Rachel and me?" Frowning, Chloe ditched the still lit up smoke, getting damn serious. Her friend wanted to run away inside her car but got stopped quickly. "C'mon now. Steph, wait a second, alright? We really should talk. I know I've been acting off, but I really don't have anything against you or Kris or this whole gay heaven now." They didn't really hang out much lately not only because of Steph's new relationship and Max crying her eyes out, but Chloe had no idea how actually to start a conversation or even greet the DND queen. She was fine with her friend dating the Prescott's daughter, really. Or at least she didn't mind much. Kris was hot, cool, and not stupid. Good score. Chloe would still prefer Steph to date Max but was perfectly aware she could shove her preferences up her ass. It was time to finally settle some things and start acting like human beings, rise above it or some shit, reconnect and move on. Taking the first step wasn't something Chloe was really used to though, even if had made progress in certain areas. There was no secret that if Rachel hadn't decided to hunt her down four years ago and claimed the ownership, the only thing the blue pirate would be doing now would be sitting in her room and counting the cracks on her celling.

276 if she remembered correctly.

"We're still friends." She caught Steph's arm prevent her from hiding in the shadows yet again. "Dude, it's not like I'm not happy for you, but it's just hella fucked up, you know?"

Her friend nodded looking at her feet, feeling this weird tense cry back in her chest again. She wasn't stupid knowing very well that this unruly, subtle as a ton of bricks pirate just awkwardly wanted them to be buddies again, play DND, drink a beer or two, talk smack about school and all, but fuck, it wasn't that easy. Steph wanted nothing more than to just speak to somebody, get drunk and complain about her love life, but Chloe was probably one of the worst choices. Too close to Max, she would quickly say a thing too much and not intentionally cause some drama. It was a relief that she really wanted Steph back in her life though and the blue confusion was more than understandable.

"I know. I get it. It's fine and don't worry. Don't feel obligated to help me or… dropping my shit." She chuckled seeing one more Tupperware slipping from Chloe's hands. The blue rebel smirked shyly, picking it up from the ground at once. "And don't you worry about me. I'm fine. Thanks for that though." She pointed out at the club. "Chase is being more of a bitch every single day."

Grateful for sidetracking, Chloe smiled yet again, this time boldly. Seeing Victoria running away had a specific flavor of triumph and felt damn satisfying. At least one thing she could do. Steph seemed tense, stressed and miserable regardless though, so it wasn't only the Vortex club CEO's fault. Chloe Price was never great at this intuition kinda thing, but it didn't take a psychic to know something was off and the brawl with Chase was just the tip of the iceberg. The blue pirate scratched her neck, not really sure if she should ask what was wrong, knowing for sure that Steph wouldn't just spill the beans. Why couldn't people just be direct, like really?

She sucked at this.

"Dating the rich and popular has some downsides, one of them is Chase snooping around with her phone like a freaking sniper, hoping to catch you with some dirt," Chloe stated, trying to share a sneak peek of first-hand experience. She could write a book about this particular matter like in no time. "This bitch lives for it, I swear. And about you…" Uh, great. This discussion changed into a serenade of deep breaths and long sighs. "Damn, man. I know things weren't exactly straightforward between us, but I just want to make sure you're fine. Where are you staying? With the North brothers?" She asked, knowing for a fact that Steph still hadn't picked up her things from Max's room nor move in with Kris.

"No. Not anymore." Came the response muffled by the metal, cold walls of the white van. Confronted with one of the burning issues, Steph was able to sneak out and dive back into work. "Mikey has to focus on his exams, and Drew…" Clang. Hiss. Chloe rolled her eyes. "He has a girlfriend now and needs some personal space. I got back to my parents for now and will ask for another dorm room or something, since…" Another metal clangor forced the blue pirate to get in as well and help with another piece. This time it was a Marshall amp with head and speaker, a damn freaking monster that should be dragged out by like five frat boys or something, not two skinny girls. Especially if one of them had dark circles below her eyes, lost tons of weight and was pale as hell.

"I got it." Chloe gasped, taking off her beanie and wiping off her forehead wondering how Steph was usually dealing with this stuff on her own. It was worse than a gym that the blue pirate visited once and promised to never step foot in that place ever again. Why would somebody pay to get tired? She could get it for free. "You can always crash at our place." She offered when they moved the big package one foot closer to the threshold. "I mean our dorm, chill. Rachel wouldn't mind."

The vast, black chest leaned to the left, almost falling on the rest of supposedly vulnerable and valuable stuff. Swearing loudly, Steph lost her grip, straightened up and wrapped her hand in some rag. Good, peaceful sleep and not skipping meals would also help with rebuilding her strength but who cared. It might've been just Chloe's imagination, but she seemed hurt, like in a physical sense. Flesh and blood, that kind of shit.

This stage thing was really an arduous work.

"Rachel wouldn't. Max would. Damn, you Chloe." Steph said, getting angry as hell out of nowhere. Always rational and composed she was used to giving advice not getting for a solution to her problems. Problems, that seemed to have no end. The offer was generous though and so in Chloe's style, but the blue rebel was getting really ahead of herself. Friendly, simple, impossible to accept. "You know it's too much. Don't put yourself in the middle again." Pressing against the load was the only reasonable thing to do. Chloe caught it up, and they got it out surprisingly easy. "No offense, we are not buddies material right now." She pointed out a bit too bitterly. "Not that we were for a long time."

"Are you talking about this thing with Max?" Still unsure if this particular name should be mentioned at all, the blue pirate bit her lip. Well, that was the reason they stopped talking though, so it was better to get back to the basics and be done with it. Max was doing way better now, slowly getting over the breakup. Striving for revenge wasn't in her nature anyway, and she for sure wouldn't like to see Steph homeless or worse. It was more than ordinary to offer her some help if needed, even if Chloe preferred not to think about any possible messed up consequences and never-ending conversation with Rachel. Damn, she would hand Steph her last shirt if asked, always willing to give and worry about it later. The idea that Kris could help with a place to stay didn't even cross her mind. "You know it was never an issue and it's fucking history, alright? Don't gift yourself with more enemies, huh?"

"Max needs you more, and you are the only person who keeps her in one piece. I don't want you to be in trouble. And she…" Strangely enough, Steph looked like she was about to cry. Chloe narrowed her eyes, but it was too dark to read her face and say it for sure. Maybe it was just the heavy load and tons of sweat. "It's better for us to stay away." And she escaped into the van again.

The blue rebel tilted her head thinking. Always straight-forward and independent, her friend was obviously hiding something, and it wasn't just about the past with Max and stuff. It wasn't cool that they broke up, but it wasn't malicious or anything. People split sometimes, and both parties involved in this case were her people. However, Steph seemed scared, hiding like a turtle in its shell or getting aggressive every time somebody tried to talk some sense into her. At first, Chloe assumed that it was because of her friendship with Max, but by now everything should get back to normal. Sure, the little freckle was the pirate's best friend and always came first, but Steph was important too, even if in a very complicated way.

So, there was only one reasonable explanation.

"You still care about her, don't you?" Chloe asked gently, tangling her beanie in her sweaty hands, feeling how sticky her fingers had become. A light chuckle shouldn't count as a valid response, but it somehow did. Apparently, Max wasn't easy to forget, even if she wasn't the one who cut the ties. Damn. Feeling oddly uncomfortable and not sure what to do, the pirate looked around for another thing to lift or pull. Physical work seemed way more alluring. Easy. "Don't worry about my punk ass pinched by the fence." Picking one of the smaller boxes she started dragging it to the entrance but continued talking. "I get what you're doing, but you split your people like goods or wealth after a divorce. You helped me tons, and I'm not just an asshole who will forget such a thing." The stupid container didn't want to move, so Chloe simply kicked it, and the pain in her foot almost knocked her down. "What the fuck you have in there?"

"Tools. Fragile."

"Here." Finally getting the crate out, the blue anxiety put her beanie back on, done with unloading shit. Fuck this party if they couldn't even help with those things. "This tool ain't changing sides because there ain't any." She poked her own chest. "You don't need my help, it's fine, but if you ever feel that something ain't right, you can just shoot me up with a text or shit. And I'm not only talking about a place to stay."

The last sentence pierced the silence, disturbed only by the club's stifled uproar and rustle of tall pines circling the parking lot. It resonated between the clouds of breaths, quick pants and squeals of the old, creaky van, demanding a reaction. Steph remained quiet though, not moving and still finding her solace among the shadows thinking intensely if Chloe knew more than she wanted to say. Was it that obvious? Was it that clear?

"What do you mean?" She whispered.

"Dating Kris Prescott has a certain flavor in this town," Chloe shrugged, sniffling a bit. Getting sweaty in the winter cold was always awarding her with an itchy throat. At least she had plans for the rest of the month then. Dope. "And I don't want to be a canary in a coal mine, but some people will be up your ass pretty soon, Victoria included, as you could see like a minute ago."

Relieved and tormented at the same time, Steph got out smashing the back door and officially finishing operation unload. Then, walking close to her blue friend, she looked her straight in the eye.

"What do you want me to do, Chloe? Get back in my closet?" Her voice was low and calm but filled by anger. Getting livid out of nowhere was yet another thing people around her had to get used to, and she was about to give Chloe some taste. "Pretend that there is nothing between Kris and me? Like it would work, huh? Everybody knows by now, and I can't be bothered with what people think of us." The blue pirate almost got pushed, even if she was the last to blame. It surprised them both. "Blackwell never spoke highly of me anyway. And when it comes to Kris's family…" Steph didn't even remember when she worried about this issue last time. Probably in her previous, happy life or something. "Sean Prescott can suck my dick. I'm not underage anymore, and whatever she did, it was a long time ago and not relevant. Plus, her father is embracing his inner professional golfer on the green pastures of Florida, and her mom doesn't mind."

All of this was true. Well, except this dick sucking thing. Steph didn't care about Prescotts anymore, she didn't want to, and that was part of her problem. Warned so many times that this family was an equivalent to a hornets' nest, she got used to it quickly and even adapted in some way, avoiding certain topics, places, and people. In some way, she wouldn't mind to even be confronted by Kris's father and speak her mind freely. Why not? That would burn some bridges, but it was better than seeing them sizzling slowly.

Did she really want to finish it?

Did she?

With her hands shaking, she looked at her phone, checking if Kris didn't text her in the meantime. As always, her mobile was put on silent while she was working though, perhaps she had missed something. No, not a word, not a single message, nothing. It didn't help to calm her down, now with this maddening, well-known thought to return with full force. Her current relationship couldn't be a mistake though, Steph corrected herself in a second. It couldn't be.

"And her brother is fucking nuts." Apparently, the blue pirate was as clueless as a five-year-old wandering through a dark forest though. Mentioning Nathan, who was not even around much, didn't bother Steph either. If Chloe wanted to strike a chit-chat about this clan of assholes, it was more than a safe ground though. Way safer than Max. "You're playing with fire there." The blue pirate added.

"What are you trying to say?" Steph turned back to her.

At this point, the old Chloe Price, a high-school dropout and a girl without a future would just walk away, angry and disappointed. She would never look back, call or even say hi to Steph again, but write some pathetic, stupid, letters, expressing how much she was damn upset. The new one didn't move an inch, except reaching for a fresh, new smoke. Her friend needed her, even if she was acting off, full stop. The blue rebel couldn't figure out why exactly things turned out that way but wasn't gonna disappear until some things would be said. Or stated.

"That if some shit goes south give me a call because you aren't alone." She responded so calmly that she wanted to pat herself on the back. "Even if sometimes it could feel like it."

A cold shiver ran through Steph's spine. The blue pirate nailed it, subconsciously or not. Even if they didn't talk for weeks now, it was more than evident that something was wrong. Chloe had to know that Steph was feeling like shit but wasn't up for grilling her for all the details. How, why and what led to it was kinda secondary for the blue rebel, who was always oriented on one thing only - making people who she cared about to feel better. Thankfully this tall, bold badass would never press Steph to do or say something she didn't want to. A real friend, who was willing to put some things behind for the sake of saving her ass. Steph was damn close to just give up and tell her how everything looked like, but then something in her mind twitched, and she found herself unable to do so.

"South? We're as much North as in Canada now and won't split." Lying had never come so easily before, but was way heavier than a load of amps, crates, and cables. "She would never do that."

A deep sigh was followed by even deeper silence. Tired of this constant fight, the blue pirate shifted her arms not sure if her advice nor presence was indeed needed. To be frank, she imagined this talk way differently, not hoping for a smooth chit-chat, but didn't assume a mood-swinging shitstorm. Seeing her friend being so angry and unsure was just too damn shocking. Getting to the bottom of this was beyond Chloe Price's capabilities though. Being social and shit wasn't a bad thing, but she wasn't great at this, like really.

"Breaking up is not the worst thing that can happen." She stated simply.

One sentence and this terrible feeling in her stomach appeared again. Stubborn, blue asshole was here regardless, having her back and supporting her, even if she had to go through hell and back with Max. Steph knew what kind of advice Chloe would give her. Leave this Prescott girl, get back on track, smoke some good shit, maybe even have a coffee with her freckled friend. She could hear her saying it, already imagining the pauses and accent on certain words. Breaking up was the easiest solution though, way more manageable than dealing with a complicated, thorny relationship. A solution that Steph wasn't ready for, always too loyal and too committed to just surrender. It wasn't even about being alone, single or whatever, but losing yet another chance for happiness was something she couldn't deal with. Falling to pieces inside, Steph clicked her tongue not sure of what to say and how to now break into tears with the first word spoken.

"Damn, you really fucking grew up." She finally mumbled, picking up a few loose nails and noticing her hand was still bleeding.

"Tons of booze and sex do it to people. And if some shit gonna hit the fan, if Victoria will try to fucking mess with you or any other fuckwit, you know how to reach me." Chloe sniffled again, feeling the cold getting to her for real. "Better me than Max."

"Max…" It felt so good to say her name. Way too good. Steph bit her lip. "Does she know about all of this? Like you talking to me, offering me a place to crash and…"

"Who do you think I am, Steph?" It was time for the blue rebel to scoff. Including her best friend in this would be more than an innocent mistake and she really hoped this topic wouldn't be brought back. Seemingly, it was the only thing that Steph wanted to talk about, even if opening her mouth and expressing herself with more than just sighs and mumbles wasn't something she was very much into. Jesus Christ, those girls. "Of course she doesn't. I ain't gonna mess her up with your stuff or your lack of problems. Buddies don't act like that. Best friends neither."

Max wouldn't mind though, too fucking busy getting into school life and making up for the lost years. It was okay, but recently Chloe got a bit worried about her friend though. Not like deadly worried or to the level of wanting to talk her out of hanging out with those dickheads, but it was freaking strange. Yeah, sure, she needed more buddies and it was about time for the little freckle to lash out a bit to have this so-called college experience. Arcadia didn't offer like a tremendous choice with that kind of entertainment either making them to choose between Vortex or former Bowers' crew, partying way more hardcore. Still odd. Moreover, Rachel also started to attend those events way more often, this time demanding her pirate's company to avoid even a hint of suspicion that drugs or weird shit were about to happen. Reluctantly, Chloe agreed, even if she couldn't even get high or drunk that much, so it was kinda pointless. Guarding her like a hawk, her blonde angel wanted her by her side but wasn't allowing any weird shenanigans occurring, barking back at the blue pirate's fan club, which surprisingly, was still around. So, drama, no dope and Tori the bitch making their lives harder. No surprise that more or less those parties were shit though, and Chloe missed the time when her girl spent more time babbling about stupid art with this photography teacher, instead of wasting their time with the bunch of assholes. Mark Jefferson evaporated from their existence though, not really brought back in the conversations and she never quite understood why. Perhaps Rachel just got bored.

So yeah, Vortex shit, yay.

Wasn't that something Chloe wanted though? Rachel was a natural born social butterfly and needed other people around, naturally striving for the limelight, this time including her wife in it. Cool, the blue pirate never wanted to jail her in the four walls of their room, but damn, why even go there if you couldn't get more than two beers?

"Noble." She heard Steph saying.

"If you wanted to offend me, you forgot how this game plays out." Chloe sighed. So Max, Rachel, Vortex and then Steph. Because life couldn't be just nice and easy, right?

The club's door squeaked again, and somebody ran out, yelling and giggling. The party got into its essential stage, or so it seemed. Lurking at her watch, Steph concluded that she didn't have that much time left. They had to rush to prepare everything for the rock concert scheduled at 10 pm, when everybody would be drunk enough to stomach the half-baked songs but still at least half-sober to enjoy it. Thankfully, not much was left to do, so technically they could just chill and talk.

Working would be better.

"How is she…" Stuttering, Steph found Chloe's piercing look too hard to bare. "Does she…" Saying the name was a dangerous idea. This thought appeared again anyway though. This throbbing, annoying, impossible dream was still there. "Does she mention me?"

"What do you think?" The gentle response came at once. Chloe straightened up putting her hands in her pockets and enjoying the chilly breeze. Damn, this talk was heated. Her voice became dreamier, as if the blue mind wandered into a different territory, recalling a few break downs and harsh discussions with her best friend. Max… Well, Max was still in love with this stupid, working her ass off asshole. Max was doing fine though, trying to forget, finally learning how to smile again. Max… "She will be alright though, get her shit together and find somebody just right for her. Just like…" She waved at this new expensive watch Steph was wearing. "You did, I guess. Speaking of, any plans for tonight?" It was better to change the topic. Just in case. "Anything special? Before you ask, I won't pass this info to Max either."

Not entirely sure if she ever wanted to celebrate this holiday, Steph got quiet again, almost entirely forgetting that she was about to meet Kris later. So used to being sidelined, she didn't even prepare a lot for today, not very much in a festive mood. Who knew, they might have a nice time after all. Maybe. Perhaps. Hopefully. If Prescotts' duty would allow.

"Well, standard things." She answered reluctantly. "Romantic ride in my filthy van. Not very high class but I told her I can't fly to Europe twice a month." Chloe nodded like it was entirely normal for such trips to happen. Paris got boring if visited so often, everybody knew that. "So yeah. Flowers, dinner, secret beach spot."

The pirate grinned and punched her arm. Now they were talking.

"Just be careful not to snatch mine or don't unleash any dragons there. I like my beach how it is; it doesn't need a reload."

"Why is it that every time I see you two, you're talking about breathing fire?" Said Rachel who appeared almost of nowhere and was slowly walking towards them. It was hard to tell if she listened for a moment and didn't want to disturb, or just showed up at the right time.

Well, not the latter. Chloe knew her girl had to eavesdrop a bit. Old habits die hard.

"Because we sense your presence?" She reached for her hand and pulled closer for a forehead kiss. "Hi there, beautiful. Got bored waiting?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. Apparently irritated, she gasped with fury, clearly showing that this party wasn't going as smoothly as she had expected. To be honest, even being here was a mistake, but she needed to kill some time before the Valentine's date she had carefully planned. It was easier to hide things with a beer in her hand and hitting the dancefloor than sitting in one room with a big, persistent, blue question. Chloe's allergy for surprises was legendary though and she would try everything to get all the info at once, not leaving anything for later. Rachel couldn't blame her girl but this time she had spent a lot of time and effort to cook up something special and needed to keep her distracted and clueless. It didn't go quite that well, mostly because she miscalculated how annoying Victoria Chase could be, especially if single, alone, and bitter as a rotten pickle.

Good thing Mark wasn't here tonight.

"Got annoyed waiting. This party wasn't that bad until Tori showed up. No, baby." She stopped her blue fury who roared like an angry sealion and was about to run back to the club. Judging from the quick quarrel with Victoria she experienced inside, Chloe had already gone through at least one battle with the fashion lizard. The next one could end up in a disaster like drowning this bitch in a beer can or something. "We really don't want to risk you being expelled and it's the only bar in town not asking many questions about your ID or age." A quick kiss always helped to calm down the storm. It didn't fail this time either.

Growl. Kiss. Howl. Longer kiss. The mad pirate calmed down.

"I hate when you speak to the logical part of me." Chloe wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in the blonde hair, partly because she missed Rachel so much and, quite frankly, her nose got frozen and needed a warm-up. "Vicky tried here too, queen of freaking sluts. Can't wait to graduate and never see Chase's face ever again."

Watching them so committed, so happy, so much together, was making Steph even more upset. She had no idea how those two remained inseparable against all the odds, but somehow, they managed to be constantly madly in love. It was like one fucking Instagram live stream with the happy couple's adventures. Even if arguing, fighting, screaming or having a few bad moments, they always found each other, getting back and sealing themselves in an embrace. It seemed so easy though, like one of those fairy tales that never happened to ordinary people, and somehow Chloe Price and Rachel, now Price as well, were sharing it. Just like that.

Lucky bastards.

"Not that it matters, but there is a rumor going around that Victoria has some shit planned up for the drama camp and it will be nasty." Steph said slowly, recalling the gossips she had heard earlier this evening. Listening to the Vortex club assholes while hiding in her van paid off from time to time. "I didn't hear the details though, but she's really arming up so be very careful what you eat and drink there. She's plotting something."

The revealed secret didn't make an impression at all. Chloe looked concerned a bit, but Chase always liked to stir some shit and complicate things for everybody around. Surprisingly, Rachel didn't even bat an eye, either too used to it or already knowing about the probably stupid as hell intrigue. Victoria had a very limited arsenal and imagination, either distributing embarrassing photos or videos, or just trying to spread some lies. As Chloe had said once, it would be better for her to spread her legs at least once, so she would experience something nice and hopefully change her attitude. A mean comment, but Rachel had almost breathed in her coffee laughing hard.

"Neat." She shrugged, not really worried. To be honest, she didn't give a flying fuck about this trip, but it was too soon to reveal why. "I have it covered, but thanks. She can shit herself with my blessing, using all the tricks in her little witchcraft book. I really appreciate the warning though." Nodding she noticed how thin and stressed Steph looked. This girl was in some serious shit. "There are not many people who have my back."

"Well, I do." Gandalf the gay chuckled. "We do." She corrected herself, including Kris in the not so far-fetched statement. Her girlfriend liked these two, or so she was saying. "Be careful. Bitch is up to something."

The lighter clicked when Rachel lit up her smoke and took the first long inhale.

"Or was up to something." She sighed, recalling one other evil thing that Victoria probably had done or influenced. It was just a small suspicion though, kinda absurd and ridiculous, without any evidence whatsoever. Nothing for sure, but Rachel was damn close to believe in it. "It's not the first time she tried to tangle with the precious line of my destiny. Tori should try to find a job at Disney and not necessarily as a princess."

Chloe's eyes grew bigger when she was slowly absorbing the meaning behind the statement.

"Wait, do you think she was behind your Harvard thing?" That would make perfect sense. The pirate had no idea what Chase would've done but it was now clear that this bitch was to blame for Rachel being rejected. If so, Victoria would fucking pay. Like now. Be my Valentine got an entirely new meaning indeed. "I'm gonna kill her with my bare hands." Grabbing one of the cables, Chloe turned back ready to spank this fashion devil, preferably in front of others.

Unfortunately, she got stopped.

"Chill baby and leave this cable alone." Rachel chuckled, still holding her jacket. Considering a joke that bare hands usually didn't include a cable, she took the murder weapon out of the pirate's fingers and threw it aside, not bothered to roll it up. "Do you seriously think that Chase had any power to do anything or influence a decision of one of the oldest and the most respected academic facilities on this planet? Plus, it doesn't matter anymore. Harvard is hella pretentious anyway so perhaps it's for the best? I can't say I'm joyful about how things turned out, but I ain't gonna cry either. Anyway, where's Kris?" Looking around she turned to Steph.

"Hell if I know." Shrugging, the exasperated stage manager lurked at her phone. Still no messages, no info, no unanswered calls. Probably the super-duper important meeting got extended. "She's probably planning something." She grabbed the thrown-out cable and started rolling. It felt like it was done at least a thousand times today.

"Judging by your face, she's planning to be late," Rachel concluded mercilessly, despite Chloe's warning murmur. Oh, so there was a problem in paradise. Interesting. Steph looked depressed without question though, and even if a joke about awesome sex life should've followed, it didn't seem to fit. Noticing the blood on her hand Rachel quickly came closer, offering a tissue and muttering something about useless pirates.

"Well, she's busy," Steph explained weakly, accepting the gift and warping her hand again. "Since her father let her take over a few things she's always on some business call and shit, especially with this New York charity. Anyway, what about you guys? Anything spectacular planned for today?" Talking about this valentine shit served as a perfect distraction when the conversation was turning in a very bumpy road. Not to mention, Rachel was way too smart. Avoiding dwelling on the situation with Kris would be very short-lived if this blonde bullshit detector was involved.

"Oh, you know," Chloe winced, entirely not aware about the blonde smirk. To be honest, she didn't plan much for today, assuming that the Vortex party she was dragged to was enough. This and some late night special later. She scratched her waist, weirdly trotting in place. "We married couples do not celebrate."

Pretending like she was drastically offended, and actually being a bit, Rachel bumped her arm lightly.

"Sure, we do, it's just kinkier."

"Kinky, huh?" That caught the blue trouble's attention to that level that she forgot about the whole conversation, Steph's presence, Max's new friends and everything else. "What's on your mind? Now, I'm intrigued." She tried to pull her wife closer, but Rachel snuck out from her arms not keen on sharing her secrets. Not yet.

"Not that we have a banging van to our disposal, but I'll try to top that." A nice pat on the white metal came across as nonchalant, but Chloe knew her girl very well and was damn sure that whatever Rachel organized for tonight would top a bajillion vans. She got really interested now, sensing something seriously big and that made her feel terrible since she didn't really bother with this pink holiday that much. She never had.

"What are you planning, Rach?" Chloe mumbled pressing her girl against the van and ignoring how rude it had to be for Steph around. "A banging wagon?" Her hand immediately traveled to Rachel's waist pulling her hips closer. She got jokingly pushed back, but it would never discourage the brave pirate.

"Maybe." Her angel challenged her with her head up and hoping for a quick kiss.

The blue eyebrow furrowed. When her blonde devil set her mind on something it was extremely difficult to change the outcome, and now this little mischief was very determined to keep her secrets as long as she pleased. Well, fine. Shit, not fine. Chloe wanted to know now. Some years of experience taught her one thing though. If she wanted some information, usually a bold distraction would probably do the job. It wouldn't hurt to try then.

"Be careful, I can always go all Long Beach on you," Chloe whispered brushing her lips with her thumb and then burying her fingers in the blonde locks. "I might even have the handcuffs somewhere. Maybe."

Oh, it worked. It worked better than the blue provocation had assumed. Half-open lips, narrowed eyes, and a very quiet sigh that came close to a moan told Chloe that her girl just imagined this possibility and was damn near to taking those words as a promise. The blue pirate almost turned red, knowing for a fact that she would never be able to recreate this very intimate moment in California when her lack of cooperation in the bedroom department and stubbornness got punished in a very unique way. Well, not exactly punished. More like awarded but with a twist? Anyway, not that she didn't want to do it, but it was just too much even for a brave pirate. In reality though, there were no obstacles for her imagination to fly into this field, and actually Rachel was able to read her mind quite quickly. Her moves became slower, her breath faster and cheeks got flushed, as she uncovered this vision piece by piece. There was no secret she would do a lot actually to see her blue pirate in that situation.

Hell, no.

"Long beach? What's that?" Steph blinked.

"It's an inside joke," Chloe responded at once, not willing to go into details and reminding herself that they weren't alone. Hell, she came here to talk to her buddy and a few hazel sparks later she completely ignored Steph's existence. Great job, one more time. Rachel ran her fingers through her hair trying to hide her own blush, distracted as well. The blue pirate chuckled and turned to her girl. "Will it be fun? Or criminal?" She asked, trying to navigate the ship of awkwardness into less stormy waters.

"Criminally fun." Rachel winked but ignored the burning question in her wife's eyes still not selling herself out. "No, you will learn all about it when the time comes and, according to this famous Arcadia Bay tradition you will be properly kidnapped and have to obey my power."

"What kind of tradition is it?" Chloe frowned.

"The kinky one that I just came up with." Her blonde angle shrugged, making this stuff up on the fly. "I'm just gonna take you to a charming, nostalgic and dark place where you will be able to free yourself in any way possible and listen to my commands."

"TMI." Steph said gloomily, still trying to stop the bleeding.

Rachel felt bad. Knowing that something had to be terribly not right with the DND queen's private life, this whole semi make-out session had to come across as bad-mannered at best, and hurtful and uncomfortable at worst.

"Sorry." She smirked and quickly got back to her pirate, who also looked embarrassed. "Be careful with your hands, baby." Kissing the blue fingers was a supposedly innocent gesture but got taken with a sharp inhale. "You'll need them."

She was apparently hinting at Steph's injury, but the blue temptation already forgot about the world around them. It always happened so quickly. One kiss led to another, one smile changed into a moan, and then they were both thinking about one thing only. It was Valentine's day for crying out loud though, some surprises were already lined up, and Chloe was more than ready to start the rest of the night.

"Thank you for sharing all our secrets, Rach." It was the only thing that she could've articulated not expressing how much the presence of anybody else was bothering her now. It wasn't her fault though. Rachel started it.

Her fault.

"I'm not ratting out anything extraordinary." Standing on her tiptoes, her angel kissed her cold nose and then looked at her watch. Well, it was time anyway. Thank God. "Alright, if Steph doesn't mind, the kidnaping procedure is about to start now. Ready?"

"You are never ready for a surprise, I guess." Came the unsure blue whisper. Chloe looked around hoping that everything got prepared and her friend wouldn't have to deal with heavy shit without any help. Steph just nodded, confirming that she was indeed done and they were good to go. Her presence here was delayed anyway, and it was time to drive back home.

And meet Kris. Hopefully.

"That's the spirit. Good luck tonight, Steph. For real." Rachel's warm smile was probably one of the nicest things that happened to Gandalf the gay recently. "And take care of your hand."

She was considering giving Steph a good solid hug, cheer her up a bit, but it was probably the worst time and place for it. Promising herself to call her back soon, Rachel wrapped her arm around her girl's waist already consumed by the upcoming plans and unable to focus or do anything else. It was Chloe's fault anyway, always freaking sidetracking her, just great. Damn, this pirate would be the death of her or her social skillset in general.

She could always solve this issue tomorrow.

"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it." Steph tried to smile back but failed. Promising to catch up with them later she waved leaning against the unpacked load. "I really do." She repeated watching them walking quickly to the parking lot.

"Caulfield?" Victoria blinked getting used to the dim light, barely recognizing the slim figure standing by the window. The second floor of the club was often less occupied, even if offering a few comfortable couches and a spectacular view of the bay. Designed for those who would like to take a short break from a loud blast of music and the tight, hurdling horde, this space was available, following a strict no smoking policy though, which drove most of the attendees off forcing them to go outside. Instead of a cozy background, it felt more like a haunted ghost lair. "Is that you?" The uneven wooden floor squeaked under the high heels when Victoria took one step, then another. The eerie aura was really getting to her now, even if the person in the front of her had to be Caulfield. Fuck, she really put her reputation in jeopardy today. First Gingrich, then this. Still, some company was better than nothing and today Victoria felt oddly alone. And bored of course. Two words, same outcome. "What are you doing here? Trying to have fun?" She started quite truculently, grasping her fingers on the tall wine glass.

This place was the negation of fun though.

"Aren't we all?" Max leaned over the window staring at the waves crashing in a tide, cutting down the horizon with one sharp line. Not ignoring nor bothered by her presence she seemed relaxed and composed, taking yet another break from the mess downstairs. Even if recently very active in certain social circles, Max still kept her distance, shunning and attracting people at the same time. Her glass was still half-full, and Victoria didn't have to ask to know it contained a minor amount of alcohol. The little freckle, even if changing her ways, didn't jump into getting drunk as a skunk every time liquor was around, and was keeping things slow and kinda classy. At least one person knew how to have fun.

"It has to be difficult since you're the single one here," Victoria stated, taking a place by her side and enjoying the view as well. The sharp, high-pitched gusts of wind mixed with the pent-up rhythm of the music felt like two worlds colliding, luring and repelling one another. A more intimate, sheltered and private tide. The Blackwell queen realized that they hadn't really talked much, even if Vortex activities became a common interest for both, avoiding each other out of respect, not a must. Still, it was somehow relaxing to have her around, just as if Caulfield had this special magic power of calming everybody down, evaporating the routine anxiety and angst.

Max smiled sadly. A desperate need of finding a new partner, so widespread among others, wasn't something she burdened herself with. Hanging out with the garish crew helped her to patch up the holes of loneliness, but building any kind of close relation seemed unmanageable at the moment. Learning from her experience, first going crazy with Chloe, then ruining everything with Steph, she had decided to focus on herself, and then, maybe, perhaps, hopefully, the right person would appear. Even the lovely-dovely theme of today's celebration wasn't really perturbing her, as she worked out the patience to look at the other couples without a huge dragon-hunter-shaped hole in her heart opening up at once. Some were lucky to have each other now; she might be fortunate later.

Or never.

"Are you talking from experience?" Looking at Victoria, she took a sip of her drink. The Blackwell queen wasn't really an enemy anymore, not a friend and certainly not neutral. The more Max learned about her, catching up with tons of gossips and a rare few solid facts, the more she understood the blind persistence and constant prying. Understanding didn't mean accepting though. "Actually, it's quite the opposite." Another sip. Max stretched out a bit. "I'm having a very nice time. Don't force me to repeat it in the past tense, please." She winced, recalling that Chase had a tendency of maneuvering into very mean and dark territories, especially if disappointed with herself.

And damn, she had been, since Nathan.

"Why would you assume so?" Shrugging but still alert and ready to switch into battle mode, Victoria mirrored her moves, testing her martini in a tall, proper glass. Probably the only not chipped goblet in this shithole and reserved only for her. "I really don't hold any grudge against any of you and have no bad intentions whatsoever. People are quick to judge me, especially when I'm being honest."

The little freckle couldn't help but chuckle.

"Your honesty is walking two steps ahead of you, Victoria." She said watching the dark shape of Arcadia Bay's landscape, and with an ironic smirk lingering on her lips. "Everybody knows how sincere you are. I'm not judging you though. I know it's hard to have fun when everybody talks about being in love or..." Seeing Steph today was harder than Max thought. It took her two long inhales to finish the sentence. "…together."

Dwelling on her own mistakes could be deadly, so she tapped her glass's side quickly trying to find a perfect distraction. Chloe kept telling her that small steps and keeping her mind busy would be a good way to get back on track. Fake it till you make it was Rachel's advice. Both worked in a carefully balanced combination. To obtain this equilibrium though, Max had had to give up sitting in her room alone, with Netflix on, or a book she couldn't read anyway, fenced by things that belonged to somebody else, hoping to hear a well-known knock on the door. Different faces, voices, and vents about problems she wasn't really involved with, were shockingly helping. Hence, Vortex. Next in line was understanding why this Blackwell queen was so desperate to rule her kingdom built out of gossip and blather. Somebody's drama was always better than the personal, inner one. A perfect distraction.

"Thank you." Surprisingly enough Victoria didn't take up the gauntlet. Against all odds, recently this girl changed in her eyes from a disposable human being into somebody who in different circumstances could become a friend. Or a servant. Two words, same outcome. "Speaking of single ladies, have you heard from Kate? I was told she will come back next semester." After a prolonged moment of silence, Victoria desperately tried to find a topic not built on shaky ground. There weren't many.

The wooden floor whined under Max's feet when she changed her position, thinking about the response. Not that she was really afraid that Chase would sell out some secrets, but Kate Marsh was one more reminder of good old times that faded away with time, like an old photograph kept in the sunlight. Now, this secluded place felt even more like a ghost chasing theme park.

"I don't think she will, Victoria." She responded slowly, remembering her last talk with Kate. Poor soul was still blaming herself for what had happened, and no logical arguments could change her mind. It was better for her to stay away. "Too many bad memories and too many traumas. She prefers to stick to what she knows at the moment, even if it means to sabotage her own chances. People prefer the well-known hell from the unknown heaven. It doesn't mean that we have to make this hell more unbearable." Building a bit of courage, she took another long sip and asked: "Why do you hate Rachel so much?"

The line of Arcadia Bay was pitch black. Weird shapes of homes and trees created one coherent line against the blue, dark sky. Even the throbbing pulse of the club fit the scenery, as the stars seemed to blink with the rhythm of the music, lighting up and tarnishing down with every low beat played.

"I don't hate her." Her response was calm and serene, just like this fight wasn't hers anymore or, despite the recent events, Victoria didn't care that much. Maybe it was just an act, or the secretly hidden truth. "I just don't think she deserves what she has." She explained, still glaring at the firmament and wetting her lips on the Martini.

"She doesn't have anything except Chloe and a few perks of being good looking and witty. Nothing you should be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous." Frowning, Victoria tried to smile, but somehow it didn't happen. As always when she failed at something, she grew a bit tense. "She just plays on my nerves and messing up with her is entertaining. What are you?" Battle mode finally kicked in. "Her public affairs office? Is it some kind of pussy licking comradeship?" Hitting at gay had gotten out of style a long time ago, but it was the only strike she could think of.

"There isn't any." The harsh provocation didn't really make any impression on Max, who didn't even care to shrug. Victoria's sudden outbursts of anger were as usual as rain mist in the Pacific Northwest. Uncomfortable but usual. "She's my best friend's wife, but I'm not one of her groupies. Burn the hatchet, Victoria. Why can't you just drop it? You are too smart and this beef's too old for both of you to keep going."

The dark silhouettes of pines, firs and cedars danced to their breaths, the panting beat and the floor's squeaks, when Victoria decided to walk away, then changed her mind and then got back and forth a few times. She didn't come here to talk about Amber, even if she couldn't grasp the reason why she was still here. Talking to Max about it could have severe consequences like finally revealing that in fact, Victoria really didn't have anything serious against Rachel, especially after learning more about her troubled past. Since Chloe's wife separated herself from Jefferson and failed with her Harvard endeavor, she should've become more of a laughing stock than an enemy. Moreover, it was silly to persistently pick on her, but changing Victoria's demeanor was simply too complicated. There were a few sure things in this world though. The taxes that Victoria's parents were avoiding, death that she really didn't care about especially after being as old as 30, and her war with the blonde slut. That's how it was supposed to be until somebody would win.

Fun. It was just simply fun, right?

It wasn't something she could tell Max though. "If I didn't know you, Caulfield, I would think it was a pickup line." Victoria sneered, trying to find some solid answers between the shapes and shadows outside. Then she tensed up yet again, afraid that there was some truth to this statement.

"Do you want it to be a pickup line?" This time Max Caufield couldn't hide a smile.

In a second a cold, curious silence embraced them both in a tense grip. The beat from downstairs intensified as they watched each other, holding their breaths. More Victoria than Max though, since the little freckle was either close to laughing out loud or… Well, it was better not to ponder about the other option, especially on Valentine's.

"Are you suggesting something, Max?" She asked sharply, trying to save the rest of her studied dignity.

Caufield looked like she wanted to say something deadly dangerous, but then closed her mouth shielding herself with her drink. That was probably why people drank that much on those parties. A nice alternative to biting your tongue.

"I'm just messing with you, it's entertaining." She shook her head instead. "Like you said earlier, you would never fall so low anyway." Quoting the words aimed at Chloe earlier felt a bit like a far-fetched self-defense, but nontoxic for them both. "Enjoy your evening, Victoria." She finished her drink, put her empty glass on the table and headed back to the staircase. "Have fun."

"Careful." Rachel's fingers tightened on her shoulder, holding her in place and probably protecting from falling. It was hard to tell since Chloe couldn't see anything, putting all her trust in her girl's hands, sinking in mud, stumbling upon roots and being hit in the face by random, mean branches. This whole surprise thing was getting out of hand though. First, Rachel demanded to drive her own car, breaking the rule that the pirate would take over the wheel in exchange for attending this Vortex shit-together. Second, the road ended up in the middle of nowhere and Chloe's eyesight got covered as part of the supposedly fantastic bombshell. She was damn fine with it until she learned it also required walking into the freaking forest. Third, the blue complaint had been dragged, yanked and hauled for a good fifteen minutes now, losing her hope for a cozy evening with a bubble bath and some pink shit like that. At first she tried everything in her power to make Rachel's life harder, moving around with the grace of a sack of potatoes, hoping to annoy her to the point that the blindfold would be taken off, but apparently the plans for tonight were set in stone and absolutely nothing would change her wife's mind. Dropping to her knees would be a weak way to get her point across, so Chloe got a grip and tried to cooperate, surrendering to the blonde will. Her only hope was that this trip would take a few more minutes, not hours.

So far, her girl was doing great with being watchful for both of them, even if swearing, mumbling and sometimes making fun of the blue lack of balance. Not in an unkind way though, but still infuriating since it wasn't easy to walk through the dark, thick woods with the eyes obscured. Huffing, puffing, sweating and gasping they were making progress though, moving step by step in the grave, dense silence.

Suddenly, a low scream of an owl pierced the peaceful quietness scaring them both to death. Chloe groaned, trying to take another step relying only on her instinct and tripped again.

"Got ya!" She heard Rachel whispering; this time seriously concerned. They were on the verge of ending up in a deep ravine then, dead and forgotten, circled only by angry, evil birds laughing at their misfortune. What a way to celebrate this rare, cute holiday. "We're almost there, baby." Chloe got kissed and pulled forward. "Just hold my hand, alright?"

Scratching her ass and more annoyed than curious, the blue rebel followed, wondering why she had to marry a woman so mysterious and damn secretive. Couldn't they just stay at the party? The dorm? Damn, even get creative in Rachel's car now left at the secluded, empty parking lot not used in years. Like anywhere but this?

"Are you sure you picked the right way to celebrate?" The timberland jungle wasn't usually the most welcoming place in the area but now seemed even more frightening, discovered only by sounds and noises. The owl didn't want to shut up, the leaves rustled in a chilling, bloodcurdling way and the blue pirate was damn close to call this whole thing off. Better this than admitting this trip was damn creepy.

Fortunately, Rachel was holding her tight, protective as a hawk, ready to peck to death any other bird around, and that loving security was probably the best part of the journey. Her hand never left the blue palm, sometimes even squeezing it a bit too tight when the blonde angel got anxious, sometimes bruising the skin with her nails when petrified. Cute and all, but Chloe would really figure out a thousand different ways to use this blindfold in more inventive ways. "It's not Halloween or some shit." She mumbled when they started to walk down from a hill of some sort and could only hope the finish line was getting closer. Evidently, her prayers were listened, and Rachel finally stopped her with a tap to her arm. "Can I take it off?" And hearing a confident chuckle, the blue pirate finally tore off the blindfold. "Thank God." She sighed and then looked around, totally staggered.

A train branch lined with locomotives, carts, and wagons expanded almost up to the horizon of the sylvan valley, disappearing into one single row of train tracks. Lit up by only a few flickering reflectors, dozens if not hundred trolleys were stamping to each other in a supposedly chaotic order, remaining still, drowned in silence and awaiting the signal from a dusty semaphore. Some of the trains looked abandoned though, tumbled-down, scrawled with graffiti, crumbled and eaten by time. Some others seemed good to go at any moment, with perfectly polished steel wheels and prepared to load. The flock of iron horses were asleep though and not very much guarded, as their isolation was a perfect security.

"Whoa. I haven't been here for years," said Chloe when they got closer and started to wander through the maze of tacks and wagons. "I thought your boner for public transport faded away with time. You want to ride this bad boy again?" She tapped one of the carriages, entirely forgetting about the need of getting back home or even changing their plans. Excited like a little kid, she tried to jump on one of them, then another, lurking through the windows and half-open doors, imagining the next big adventure.

"Did you hope for a different ride, baby?" Rachel smiled, quite content by her wife's reaction slowly walking behind the blue pirate, but with no intention to inspect or reconnoiter. She crossed her arms around her chest being obviously very proud of herself.

"One doesn't exclude the other." Her pirate winked, still in an examination rush.

To be honest, Chloe didn't see anything to be proud of. Trains were cool, trains at night even cooler but not like they hadn't been there before. The railroad guards were a pain in the ass though and running away from them killed the fun in the long term, especially when their relationship changed flavor from two kids having fun to two girls fooling around naked. Like a lot. "Can I pick this time, or do you have a certain destination or preference in mind?" Suspecting that none of those steel beasts would move anytime soon, Chloe looked around not able to make a decision. Maybe the brand-new passenger cart with fancy blinds and comfortable seats. Or perhaps one of the freight ones, unloaded and empty, which had gone through a lot.

"Actually, I do." Damn serious, Rachel started walking through one of the track lines, using her phone as a flashlight and trying to read the bold, stenciled numbers. Scoffing and whispering to herself, she turned back a few times, picking a different hoop and then switching fast to another. Chloe's puzzlement intensified. Obviously, there was more to it than just bunch of steel and iron to have fun with. After a long while, her blonde angel finally found what she was seeking, then checked something on her mobile, constantly glancing at the numbers. "Yeah. This one." She poked the sealed, heavy door of one of the most decent looking freight cars. "Do you think you can help me to open it with your eyes closed?"

Probing the challenge, the blue pirate reached the handle, trying to move it with a few fingers, but it didn't even budge. Obviously, it was on her, since the tiny and not that tall Rachel wouldn't even be able to reach the opening mechanism. It had to be teamwork then. Well, to some extent of course. Rachel was standing there, smoking and scrolling through her phone, and her precious rebel was entrusted to drag some metal around. Great. Chloe had no idea that Valentine's day was supposed to be jam-packed with heavy physical work. Why did people even look forward to this holiday? Ah, sex and cookies, not necessarily in that order. That was why.

Both threats seemed unlikely at the moment.

"You're not making it easier, sunshine. Now I know why you wanted me to save my hands." She grinned, obediently closing her eyes and rolling up her sleeves. The door looked like a damn piece of work, unspoiled and watertight. She pulled once, but nothing came out of it. The second, angrier yank give birth to a screeching squeal only. Sweating already, Chloe sighed and tried already, but then froze listening closely.

A loud rustle coming from nearby bushes made the blue heart almost jump out of her chest.

"Fuck, did you hear it?" Scared that some railway rat might catch them, the blue pirate paused, but Rachel gestured her to continue. Strange, she was usually the first one to sense the danger, and now so absorbed by her phone, she looked like she owned this train. The blue rebel shrugged and got back to her labor. "Alright, almost…" Wheeze. Pull. Chloe gasped. "Almost." Putting her foot against one of the rusted bolsters and changing the grip on the handle, she pulled again. The door slowly moved once, twice and finally opened up with a loud wheeze. "Here." She announced and then looked inside.

Saying that her jaw dropped would be an understatement.

The inside of the freight car was lit by two dozen candles and its floor covered by checkered, warm blankets, inviting them both to lie down or just rest on one of the already prepared wooden containers. To make it even more cozy, and closer to Chloe's taste, a massive box of pizza was already prepared in the center, accompanied by two wine glasses and a bottle of something that didn't look like a soda. Cookies and chocolates were present as well, since no one would like to miss out on consuming a sick quantity of sugar. Everything had to be set up just minutes ago by some mystical creatures, magical elves or some railway dudes that Rachel bribed. Chloe preferred to imagine it was one of the first two options though. As with a drop of a magic wand, the inside of the wagon looked like an entirely new, enchanted world, carefully planned and prepared by this blonde devil who somehow had hidden all this from her pirate wife. Somehow.

"How... how did you do it?" Chloe turned to her.

Rachel grinned, hid her phone and jumped on board, scaring the candles' flames, which moved nervously tangled by the sudden movement. The old wagon's breaks squeaked when she walked around checking if everything was done correctly according to her order. It seemed that those two guys she hired did everything right, not wasting her money. Quite a relief since it would be a hardship to make a complaint about semi-legal service.

"I have my ways." Sitting on one of the wooden boxes, Rachel leaned over making herself more comfortable. "Take your seat and enjoy." She gesticulated towards the other crate hoping her faithful pirate would join her for yet another journey.

It took Chloe a moment of relearning basic body movements and speech abilities. Climbing inside, she still remained silent, shocked, amazed and startled not even by the surprise herself but the amount of effort it must've taken to arrange this whole thing. And only because of this stupid pink holiday. Just because of them. Of her. Getting used to the fact that she was loved had taken the blue admiration forever, and every time she thought she got accustomed to it, and nothing would surprise her, something like that occurred. Clearing her drastically dry throat, Chloe walked around still fighting with this overwhelmed, stupid random shyness, discovering mostly empty space. Except the unreal picnic the wagon was bare and unfilled though, with a few very old crates and loose planks. The magic elves were too lazy to clear it up completely.

To her amazement, it was precisely the same freight car they had taken on their first ride, or date as Rachel liked to call it. The one that brought them both to the overlook and much further, turning their life around and teaching them how to jump off in the right moment. She quickly recognized it inspecting the drawings and carvings on the walls, a bit faded but still visible. The whole hobo code, a few stupid dates, words, names or initials. Praises for the Bigfoots and some love or fuck confessions. And their names too, somewhere around the left bottom corner of the door. How Rachel had even found this wagon and organized this evening was beyond Chloe.

Way beyond.

"This is… just amazing." She whispered still not believing her own eyes. "You really like to spoil me."

"Spoiling us. I know how to prepare a decent kidnapping operation after all."

"Spot on." Chloe finally took her seat, lurking into this pizza box. It was still hot and steamy, ready to devour at any given time. "I'm surprised that you preferred to drag me here instead of one of your Vortex club things though."

The last point was supposed to serve as an innocent joke, not a nasty grumble, but Rachel grew a little bit uneasy. She knew that her pirate wasn't fond of their recent social activities but couldn't develop the courage to explain why Vortex had become so important. It wasn't only about spending time with others or shinning in the limelight, although it was nice to know some people still found her fabulous. It was somehow connected to Mark Jefferson, a secret that presumably couldn't be discussed. Since the stressful photo session, Rachel was steering clear of her teacher, finding herself oddly lonely and striving for the company of others. Vortex assholes' babble couldn't hold the candle to their insightful and perceptive discussions, but it was at least something since facing Mark could be way too tense. He had tried to reconnect with her, explaining his attitude and even if she understood the cognitive, still wasn't keen on getting back to almost daily meetings. The line had been crossed and would take more than a kind phone call to change it. Still, she missed him, and the best way to deal with this longing was lashing out. Not much though, just a bit, as they had been careful. Drugs, even if served on a silver plate, were out of the question even if tempting. Well, calling Mark back was also tempting.

Maybe Max was right. Perhaps this guy was bad news after all.

"Vortex is just for fun, this is different." Opening the bottle and pouring the wine, she took a sip from her glass, hiding the bewilderment. "Nasty, bratty, bitchy me wanted you all for myself tonight and recreate something special, this time with a proper slant." Then the hazel eyes got darker. "Our previous valentines weren't that glorious, so I wanted to make up for it."

"Please, don't beat yourself up to death with it. It was alright." Chloe sniffled, more than keen on forgetting the details of last year's troubles. It didn't matter in the long run, especially in a moment like this. "Our first Valentine's was fucking awesome though." She pointed out, recalling a way more cheerful reminiscence.

The blonde eyebrow furrowed.

"Are you talking about the part when my father almost caught you naked?"

"No, I'm talking about almost breaking my neck almost falling from your window afterward. Totally worth it though." Grabbing the bottle of wine, the blue pirate glared at the label in disbelief. Not a big fan of this red piss, Chloe usually avoided spirits of that sort, but this time it would be a depravity to refuse. And it got served in a glass, real glass, not a plastic cup. Taking a sip and testing it at the tip of her tongue, Chloe finally started to get why some people really preferred this than whiskey. "Damn, Rach. You really went overboard. Now I feel kinda bad for having something small for you." Scratching her butt again and then reaching into one of her pockets, the blue pirate checked if the small, wrapped in a pink paper gift was still in place. Ending up empty-handed would be a severe crime now.

"Don't be." Rachel hid her smile behind the glass. "I got my gift anyway, and I'm looking forward to celebrating the ownership."

Scratching intensified.

"Is this gift enough?"

"Are you starting again?" The blonde angel rolled her eyes.

"Hell, no." Her pirate stretched a bit, moving her neck from left to right and straightened like a cat in the sunlight. No blue teddy bear routine, no running away with her gaze, but a pure, rebel challenge hidden under half-open eyelids. If Rachel didn't know her better, she would assume it was a candid show off. Chloe winked confirming her deepest suspicion. This pirate had game, all the guns and ammo she was more than willing to use. Damn. Rachel wondered what this blue self-esteem had been grown on. Usually so anxious and apprehensive, her girl became bolder and surer of herself with every passing day, not only towards her wife but in general. Could it occur by proxy? "If having a nice Chloe is everything you're asking for…" She heard the blue purr that was always solemnly damaging her speech and summoning her into the pirate's arms.

"Not everything, far from it." Rachel resisted, at least for now, tasting more of the wine and grabbing a slice of pizza. "I strive for a lot of things. Although, some of them might be dangerous, or dark, or quite risky…." Chuckling she again recalled the last conversation with Mark. Wrong idea. It was better to forget about their last discussion about fate, destiny and a limited amount of choices.

At least for one evening.

"Risky?" Chloe decided that sitting at the edge of a wagon was far more comfortable than this box. Plus, it reminded her of the very first time. "Do you wanted us to jump off it again?"

"I arranged a jump-free ride this time," came the blonde response muffled by chewed pizza. Evidently, Rachel was willing to give up her constant diet today. Cookies were next. "Your neck is way too precious to risk it."

Chloe rose the glass to her girl and took another sip, hoping to be squeezed as a dish or somewhere between the deserts. The wine wasn't very sweet, a bit sour, but tasty. Hell, this shit wasn't that bad after all. Usually, Rachel didn't let her drink anything stronger than Red Bull, still freaking out about last year and booze doodled in gallons. Thankfully, she dropped this attitude today, still not serving liquor in barrels, but letting them get slightly buzzed.

"I was more worried about your neck actually. I would never let you jump without a parachute bigger than this freaking train. So, where are we going?" It was partly a joke since Chloe didn't expect this train to move at all.

"Nowhere in particular." Surprisingly enough, Rachel responded quite seriously. "North I guess, unless you have any preference. I can't do much in that regard but if you really don't like the destination…"

The blue finger beckoned her to sit by her side. Resisting didn't work this time, so she followed and got immediately pulled closer and jailed in an embrace. Pizza could wait, cuddling not so much.

"The destination doesn't matter as much as the company. You can take me to hell if you want to, I don't care."

"That's it?" Rachel winked.

"Yup, that's it. Why would I need more, Rach? Well, except that pizza. It looks fucking great, and after all this hike in the woods, I'm starving. Dinner tastes better with music and since you didn't bring my boombox with ya…" Chloe finished with a slice of her favorite treat in one hand and one of the earbuds in other. As far as Rachel remembered they were exactly the same headphones.

"I thought you'd never ask." She smiled, putting her head on the blue pirate's arm and wearing the other earbud.

When the music started to swish in her ear the train gasped, winded and moved slowly.

"Nat, is it really necessary?" Kris scoffed and turned back to him, still trying to find her phone. Her day had been terribly hectic, and she was literally doing everything to be done with work soon enough to finally start the most pleasant part of the day. Steph was probably worried. Or angry. Or both.

Her brother didn't say much, following her every step like a docile shadow, since they crossed their paths in Sean Prescott's office, where they both secretly wanted through the desk's drawers. Ashamed a bit and leaving in a rush, Kris tried everything to avoid talking, but it discouraged Nathan at all. Moreover, he even brought her this ridiculous tea he had made by himself as a pathetic form of peace offering or just at least spark for conversation. This hot beverage was an equivalent of a chocolate cake or Thanksgiving turkey, regarding his lack of any practical skills whatsoever. Apparently, Nathan felt lonely and needed some company, but what a day he had picked.

Well, he would have to suck it up. Fuck it.

Their reunion had quickly turned sour, largely due to Nathan's unpredicted behavior, arrogance, and resistance to any kind of help. On one hand, he demanded his sister to spend every minute with him, even if it meant doing absolutely nothing, on the other he was quite stubborn with hiding his secrets, talking or even arguing with himself. That first was leaving Kris worried and flabbergasted but then it had driven a wedge between them. Tired of ups and downs and engaged with her private life, Prescott's daughter learned how to stay away from her brother, even if his well-being was still on her top list. Jefferson had called her twice this month, politely explaining he had made progress, and Nathan was willing to see a specialist, but her brother, even if confirming that such a negotiation had taken place, still refused to proceed, playing fox to the hounds. Mostly sticking to spending time alone and ditching the uncanny, wild parties, he became a whinnying hermit and Kris had no idea how to turn things around. Her patience in that regard also ran down to zero.

Speaking of, she was rushing not only oddly uncomfortable in the presence of her younger sibling, but this time having some serious plans for tonight. Her relationship with Steph was in calamity, and Kris was quite desperate to make up for the lost time. Even if her girlfriend didn't say much, it was more than evident that they were on the edge of falling apart or damaging their relationship to the point of no return. Kris wasn't stupid, aware of what factors led to this situation, but boy, ho boy it was hard to fix this. Throwing money at Steph didn't work at all, the obscene wealth didn't make an impression, so it was about time to turn the tables and play within the DND queen's rules. If her girlfriend wanted something ordinary, Kris was all up for it, changing from high heels to sneakers and designer purse for a simple bag. They could go all high school as far as she was concerned if it would only help to preserve what they already had.

And then her plans got interrupted with a ghost holding a mug of tea.

"I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't urgent." Stamping and almost tripping on his feet, Nathan lowered his head. He looked miserable, pale, sick. It would be hard not to feel pity for him, and Kris wasn't really against trying to give this reconnecting thing one more chance, but for crying out loud, not today.

"My schedule is pretty tight tonight." She shook her head, finding one pair of red and white running shoes and grabbing an old, jean jacket. Not enough for February, it was still cold, but Kris hoped to be warmed up in certain arms damn soon. "I can't rearrange it just on a snap. Is there any chance we can postpone it like for tomorrow?" Kris suggested, paying more attention to her outfit than Nathan. It was more comfortable that way. This, or hours of weird banters.

"It's important!" She huddled when her brother yelled, almost bursting in tears and spinning out of control. "I mean…" Calming down instantly, he hugged the tea mug, mortified with his own outburst. "I rarely ask you for anything, Kris. You're always so busy with the foundation, papers, your…" She expected him to say dates, but Nathan still didn't want to acknowledge the simple fact that his sister was taken. "…Meetings. I know you have some plans for today, everybody has, except me..." Playing a victim wasn't something he was proud of but usually worked when it came to his sister.

Kris straightened up at once.

"Don't say it."

"It's true. I mean… It's fine." His fingers drummed on the cup. "It's not because of Valentine's or anything. I just wanted to show you something very important to me. Something that might change my life. And yours. It's just..." Nathan bit his lip for the hundredth time today, almost chewing on his own flesh and skin. "Just… Have you ever felt like you have this one precious thing that you care so much about and you can't tell anybody? Like…" Gesturing desperately he almost spilled the tea. "Something that makes you happy but it's also painful because no one else knows and…"

There was something different about him. Something that was eating him up inside, frustrating and driving up the wall. Kris frowned, still watching her brother wondering if it was an innuendo to yet another breakdown or the possibility of a breakthrough. Hoping for the latter, she took the mug from him, silently accepting the offer.

"How long will it take?" The tea was bitter, not really tasty, but it was the effort that mattered.

"Not long. Just maybe an hour or so."

"Fine."

"What?" It was hard to understand the blue mumble when the words and hair got tangled by the night train ride. The wind was choking them, forcing into silence that they didn't mind, even if growing anxious about how fast it kept going. The journey started slow and peaceful though but then the train sped up to a dull and colorless center, having no regard in breaking the romantic mood. Surrounded by the loud drumming whooshes and black shapes flickering hastily in front of their eyes, they held each other closer, with the earbuds still on. The music tried to compete with the peal of steel wheels but became inaudible a long time ago. Both girls didn't move though nor fight with the outcome, listening to their breaths and heartbeats only, without a need to talk.

Now it had changed.

"I have something for you," Chloe repeated, almost yelling and brushing a blonde lock, tangled by the windbreaks. The contrast between the tone of her voice and tender gesture almost made Rachel giggle, but she was too curious to start cracking up. Dragging something out from her jacket's pocket, the blue pirate snuck deeper to the inside hoping not to yell much more. There was a story she wanted to tell. "It's not much since we're dirt poor now and stuff, but…"

Immediately she got poked in the arm.

"Chloe!" Sighing was difficult when sitting in the open door and attacked by the cold gale. Rolling her eyes was easier. "When will you learn I didn't marry you for your bank account?"

"I would never accuse you of such a delusion. I know you wedded me only because of my punk shaped ass and the noble pirate heart. Anyway, here." The freight car squeaked and turned rapidly just within a moment of passing this small gift. For a second the blue pirate was afraid that her girl would drop the package by accident, but Rachel crawled into the safer space and began to unpack the small bundle, not much bigger than a pack of matches. Nervous, Chloe took a deep breath, starting an unnecessary explanation. "It's not much, but… There is a story behind it. A long, long time ago it belonged to my granddad. He was quite a handyman himself and liked to create something beautiful from junk he found around." The unwrapping took Rachel just a second, and now she was staring at an old-fashioned pocket watch.

"Runs in the family." Rachel's fingers traced the lines of the vintage device's shape, discovering every corner and angle, as she was indeed amazed by the gift. She opened it carefully, marveling at its delicate and refined structure. Surprisingly, it was still working, with tantalizing, decorative arms of the clock tickling lightly. Closing it, Rachel noticed a remarkable component fostered in the top cover. "Is it a quarter?"

"Yeah." Now it was Chloe's turn to get all proud. When she found this piece in one of the old suitcases in the attic, she couldn't believe her luck. Never paying attention to her granddad's stash, she was swept off her feet, finding a collection of treasures, including pocket watches of any shape, size, and style. Finding the one with a quarter already sealed in felt like destiny. "Cool, right? Now you will have one always on you. I mean, if you decide to carry it around. It's just… I fixed it a bit and worked on it, so it looks brand new and…" The gusts of wind were eating her words. Chloe skulked closer to her wife. "And you told me you like practical gifts, so…" Ah, damn. This pocket watch, enriched by history and personal touch would fit the big-ass lawyer Rachel wanted to become, but college talk was a taboo for them both since Harvard's rejection. Chloe didn't have much time or funds to come up with anything else, sticking to the previous idea and hoping her girl wouldn't make a connection between their failed plans for the future and the actual gift. So far, Rachel looked pretty content. "I promise I will make it up to you later." She assured quickly. "Like when we will be fifthly rich and shit."

"Shhh…" A blonde finger stopped the waterfall of words. A small kiss to the lips followed. "How do you always know what I want?"

"Practice."

Laughing, Rachel liberated herself from the headphone's cable, now entirely useless, first giving her girl a big hug and then reaching for her own bag.

"I have something for you too." She said handling the pirate a small envelope. All suspicious, Chloe turned it around, trying to guess what kind of gift it was and hoping it wasn't expensive. Throwing money that they didn't have was making her more apprehensive than grateful. Sometimes the pirate wondered how Steph dealt with a similar problem. This train ride was way too much and now yet another? The letter seemed plain and ordinary though. No name, no stamp, nothing. "Open it." Rachel encouraged her, feeling oddly worried. It could go so wrong very quickly if her rebel didn't like the content. "C'mon."

Not rushing, the blue confusion slowly lifted the lid, looking inside and finding only one piece of paper. Not a card even, no glitter or any pink hearts included, but a printed sheet with a few sentences and signed by some important dude or something. It looked formal, out of place, not really romantic or passionate. So, no poetry then. Sensing trouble, she unfolded the letter carefully and began to read, getting more tense with every single word skimmed through.

"Rach..." She whispered lightly, getting to the end but too puzzled to look at her wife.

The train slowed down rapidly, almost stopping.

"I know you wanted to go..."

Chloe read it one more time. Then again. To make a long story short, she was just gifted with the trip to Boston, a chance to visit the MIT campus, enjoy the city and have fun with all her science buddies, just as Mrs. Grant wanted. Her favorite teacher also signed this letter, formally confirming that this pirate wouldn't have to pay a cent, and everything, including even a city pass, was covered.

It had to cost thousands. They barely scraped the bottom of the barrel to have a twenty for beer and smokes. For a second, Chloe was sure that Mrs. Grant paid for it from her own salary or called the school board, but then it wouldn't be given to her on Valentine's. Clever. It was a freaking trap, she couldn't refuse, but…

"I don't get it. How?" The blue eyes stared directly at Rachel. "I thought we can't?"

The train shook them both, getting up to speed.

"We can. I withdrew myself from the drama club camp." Rachel leaned against the wall, lighting up a smoke still tense and quite apprehensive. Practicing Shakespeare in a luxurious resort in California didn't seem like a bad idea until she heard that Mark could show up holding another photo session. Without Arcadia Bay's safety net nor her pirate being around it wouldn't be something that Rachel was up for. Not to mention, it was definitely problematic with the certain crowd around and the temptation to reach for something stronger than a cigarette. The last few months if not years were damn hectic, and Rachel found herself not looking forward to this expedition at all, surprisingly discovering that she felt more lost without Chloe that her pirate was without her. Sure, James and Rose Amber gladly paid for it, as they had always done, politely supporting any kind of endeavor of hers, happy she got back to high-class entertainment, but the blue trouble needed this money more. She earned it. "I can do good onstage without any expensive trip, and I'm not really into locking horns with Tori the whole week straight, but you seriously should check out Boston and find us some place to stay. We need an apartment, know a thing or two about the living costs, check the best places to hang out. So, this thing is an investment for our future, baby." She finished a bit too harshly, as always when not willing to sell out the whole truth.

She couldn't go. She didn't deserve it. Not after what happened with Harvard.

Her pirate turned the letter in her hands again, still not sure what to think. Of course, she wanted to visit Boston, but this trip seemed more like a sacrifice than a heartwarming present. It wasn't the first time her blonde anger abandoned some of her plans for the sake of their well-being, but never so evidently. Feeling put on the spot Chloe snorted again, feeling her throat tightening up. Now she couldn't even get sick or anything, damn it, having her spring break well-organized. Her eyes started itching, probably because of the runny nose and all. Hell. Not even able to argue or change Rachel's mind, since it would either cost them a heated fight or none of them going anywhere, she huddled over caressing the piece of paper with her fingers.

"Investment…"

"Alright," To Chloe's favor the whole explanation didn't sound so alluring or sexy. Ready to fix that, Rachel smiled reaching for her hand, but her pirate seemed numb and disoriented. That got her worried, so she wrapped her arms around her girl, burying her face in the mess of blue hair. "I'm sending you for a romantic, difficult and dangerous quest. Does it sound better? You don't have to kill any dragons or battle with any dark forces, although if you won't send me a postcard, I will be freaking upset." She kissed her ear considering taking this letter out of the shaking blue hands but retreated in the last moment. "Just saying."

Chloe's bottom lip was trembling a bit.

"Rach..." She whispered. "Without you?"

Lowering her head, Rachel felt bad. To make ends meet and cover the rest of the expenses, she had to drain not only her bank account but also start a credit line and call her mom, cousins and estranged grandmother. That included some lying here and there or tons of half-truths, effort and arrangements, but it wasn't only about the cost. She wanted to do it for them, to prove that despite her academic failure some plans were still ongoing, and Chloe came first. Although even if her pirate really desired this journey to be booked for two, it was impossible. Rachel was damn broke and would be for the next two months, probably living off pancakes and waffles from Two Whales, and the next Starbucks coffee could be purchased around her graduation. Not to mention that Chloe had to have some funds to spend out there.

They couldn't afford to go together, even if she really fucking wanted to.

"There is a limit to every surprise." Straining her acting skills, Rachel responded somehow cheerfully. "You've been gifted with a nice opportunity to miss me a little. Max is going too, or so I was told." Sending Chloe out with this little freckle sounded like a risky idea, almost as much as jumping off the moving train, but Rachel trusted her wife. Well, trusted in this particular faithfulness department, aware that this blue rebel needed some kind of voice of reason by her side. Just in case she would come to the conclusion that demolishing the whole New England was dope. "Just don't lash out there too much." She warned, finally taking away the letter and putting it back in her bag. "Pot is illegal in Mass."

The blue mind was occupied by an entirely different thought though.

"So, Boston." Blinking, Chloe whispered staring at Rachel again. "We're moving to Boston? Together? This summer?"

She hadn't asked about their plans for the rest of the year, too scared to even drift around the stormy waters of the college talk. Rachel had gotten angry or depressed every time the blue pirate awkwardly tried to spark a conversation, so it was better to sail away from this rocky shore of doubts and troubles. That left Chloe in a bizarre and uncomfortable situation, unable to actually make plans for herself and prepare for her own academic career as she preferred to do it together. Considering even dropping out of college before it also began, she just did whatever she did best, which was nothing and waiting for a magic solution to appear. Wasting time with Vortex was yet another reason why deep down she was getting upset, as they wandered away from the most important topic, just to have a moment of brief, fleeting fun.

Adulthood and all, but it was stupid to drink and dance with assholes while there was some unfinished business to deal with. Chloe hated unfinished stuff even if she didn't quite know how to deal with it.

Apparently, the answer was just in her hands.

"Yeah? Why are you surprised?" Rachel spread her hands, not sure why it was even a question.

"Nothing changed in this regard. You start MIT this year, and I wouldn't let you do it alone. Somebody has to keep you on a leash otherwise you would get too much into… Oh." Suddenly, she was pushed onto the blankets, covered by blue chaotic kisses to her lips, neck, ears, and nose, accompanied with stifling and hide a few stupid tears, desperately hidden. Jackpot. Chloe liked it.

She liked it.

"That's the best gift ever."

"A lonely trip to the other side of the country?" Rachel tried to joke, but her voice failed her, forcing her to whisper. This kissing thing wasn't that ridiculous of a solution after all. Pulling the pirate back she demanded more but got stopped.

"No." She felt Chloe's hand on her cheek, caressing lightly. This time every word murmured was perfectly perceptible. "Future. With you."

Reality was coming back in strident with snappy movements breaking down to a blur and then sharpening. Then the crashing waves of awareness hit her and pulled back like a tide. She was almost getting there, almost opening her eyes, and falling into the darkness yet again. This odd flow reminded her of the time when she was a little girl, perhaps five-years-old, and her parents took her sailing. Her brother hadn't even been around yet, so it was only the three of them happy and bonding over simple activities like any other family. Her mom smiling, her father courageously playing a captain and the small, but expensive boat swaying on the waves. At first, this little girl had gotten scared she would fall into the deep water and no one would find her, but then got used to the smooth swinging, enjoying the tickling, delightful breeze.

The darkness sliced by the bright light, hit her again, reminding roughly that it wasn't Sunday morning at the bay but an entirely different place- a place she wasn't familiar with at all.

"What..." Kris squinted her eyes, adjusting to the bright, flashy light. "What happened?" She whispered still disoriented while trying to identify the moving shadows among the vivid beams. "Where am I?" That caused more shadows to float between one bright spot to another, as a few whispers put a different commotion in play.

"I think she woke up." She heard someone saying. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't really connect it with a name.

"Let's see." An outline of a person, certainly not a monster, covered the blazing light, getting closer. It took her a while to recognize the facial features, and that confused her even more. "Welcome, Miss Prescott." Mark Jefferson kneeled in front of her, tilted his head smiling kindly like a good uncle doing her a favor. "My apologies for the conditions of your stay but I really hope you don't mind. Much." Another apologetic smirk, as he seemed worried about her condition. Kris noted that indeed she had no idea how she got here. Was she in an accident? Was that it? The last thing she could recall was this tea she had been drinking and then blackness. Was it some sort of a memory loss? "Please forgive us the extreme measures we had to take to bring you here although you fully understand now that a simple invitation wouldn't work."

More aware of her situation Kris shook off this overwhelming weakness, not up for another high school lecture. It was probably one of his artistical therapy sessions of some sort. Not really understanding what was going on and not willing to play a part in his theater of shadows she tried to get up but noticed her ankles and wrists were tied up to the chair by a duct tape. She pushed once, then twice, hissing from pain and intense headache. The bonds didn't get loose though, keeping her in place and forcing to listen. Oh boy.

"Is this a joke?" Giving up the wriggle, Kris snapped panting a bit. Her struggle was an apparently amusing spectacle for her brother's teacher who was observing her like a pinned butterfly ready to expand his collection.

Over her dead body.

"Does it look like one? Sadly, you are a smart creature, Kris. Not extraordinary or anyway special, but not stupid. Mostly because of your constant prying you became a problem. No, not for me," he touched her chest in a dramatic gesture, pretending that was nothing personal. Bullshit. "I wouldn't take my private quarrels that far. For him." When pointed at, another shadow behind the bright reflectors moved, but Kris couldn't really see who that was. "He needs to transform you to liberate himself, taste the forbidden fruit, take the next step."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, and your silly jokes do not impress me." Alright, she was done. If that was one of the things her brother really wanted to show off, it could wait or most likely got canceled. She had plans, urgent ones actually, and some very special girl was probably losing her mind worrying. Or getting angry. Or both. "I'm warning you," Kris demanded firmly. "Untie me. Now."

Used to the fact that people usually rushed to fulfill her wishes, especially after she had gotten back and turned her life around, Kris got painfully surprised that Jefferson didn't move an inch. He was the one in charge here and wasn't up for giving it up so quickly. At some point he would have to though, she thought, but not yet.

Not yet.

"I would love to, but you wouldn't follow the procedure so willingly. So beautiful, so damaged, so disgracefully degraded." He touched her face in a creepy way which combined with the terrible taste of the tea that she could still feel at the tip of her tongue almost made her nauseous. She turned her head back but couldn't escape his fingers. "It would be an honor to change your light into shadows, but now you became too dark, Kris. You are too corrupted to become an object so you will have to serve as a transition." Jefferson sighed, sincerely disappointed. "Pity."

"Transition? What…" Her eyesight got used to the bright light, finally absorbing where she really was. Noticing the heavy, solid bunker-like door and weirdly sanitary space of the room itself, Kris grew a bit uneasy. Jefferson was surrendering himself to really dark tastes then, mixing his photography with a serial killer-wannabe boner. "What do you want to do with me?" Sounding weak wasn't her intention but couldn't stop the panic and outgrow her pretended relaxed demeanor.

Jefferson got up, standing still with his eyes closed, just like an actor before a great performance, recalling all the lines and grasping the character he wanted to become. Quite fitting, but even if scared, Kris couldn't help thinking how pretentious it was. How her brother and even Rachel were following this guy was beyond her.

Way beyond.

"I will use you as the shadow that will bring your brother to light." He vowed. "Liberate him from all those obstacles that you promised to free him from but never kept your word. Do something useful with your life since you wasted it so recklessly."

"I swear to God that this is going too far, I'm gonna…" Her fingers grasped on the armchair.

"You gonna do what?" He jumped back to her like a wild spider attacking his captured prey. "Scream? Yell?" Laughing hard was probably even worse than this malicious whisper he was speaking with. "You have to reconcile yourself, find the peace in your destiny. I know it's not what you think you would become, but there is no disgrace in your journey. No shame. Shadows are also needed, Kris. How would you appreciate the light, if there will be no dark corners?"

When he spoke, one of the shadows came out to shape, and Kris took a deep breath, noticing her brother. Nathan's presence calmed her down instantly, even if she was more than angry at this high school clown who somehow got erected to a position of a mentor and tutor for young, lost kids. So, it was just a play after all, something they both brewed for some time, and there was nothing to be frightened about. One way or another, Jefferson could start packing his bags.

He was so fucking fired.

"Spare me the mundane philosophy." She scoffed, hoping that it wouldn't take long and how crazy this explanation for Steph would sound like. Honey, I'm so late because a creep my brother likes so much decided to tie me up in his fancy basement.Her girlfriend wasn't gonna believe this shit.

Still, Kris would give up all the wealth in the world to be with Steph right now. Everything.

"You have two options, Kris." Jefferson kept ranting. "Either you will beg me for your life, to keep your existence as it is, proving how much I can trust in your confidentiality, or you will face your fate with your head up and useless pride. It's the only decision you are allowed to make although the outcome would stay the same. Choose wisely."

Alright, that sounded dangerous, but Kris was quite confident it was just part of the play. Wondering if it was how they usually held things, a stupid prank crafted just for her or a weird way to taste their limits, she leaned over in her seat, waiting for an opportunity to talk to her brother. Nathan, even if bat-shit crazy sometimes, was easy to bend to her will if she really wanted to, Jefferson was probably, more or less, aware of her power. That was why her younger sibling was still hiding at the back, too shy to step forward.

If this teacher wanted to see her distressed and crying as part of his so-called healing through art, he would be fucking disappointed. Kris decided to talk some sense to him, even if rationality didn't seem like Jefferson's area of interest.

"You said I'm too smart, but you can't be blind enough to think that if you do something to me, it wouldn't go unnoticed. My father…"

"Your father has been willingly cooperating with us for years, Kris." Jefferson cut her off one more time. "Who do you think paid for all of it?"

It that supposed to scare her, it worked totally opposite. If Sean Prescott was aware of this weird, artistic performance, Kris felt even safer, certain that her own money couldn't turn against her. The only people who should be afraid of the consequences were those two. Nathan could always get away even with murder since he was family, but this old hippie was about to suffer real consequences. Despite his outstanding talent and experience, Jefferson, or rather Jeffershit as she started to call him in her thoughts, would never find any employment again. Either in this state, this country or even on this continent.

"Pay? I will tell you something about paying. Youwill pay for it." She hissed. "Everybody would know about your little circus and twisted artsy experiments. At some point, everybody would know."

"Even if so, it wouldn't be your concern then."

Apparently, he took pleasure in this meaningless conversation. Not fighting with her ties anymore, Kris closed her eyes, taking some rest from the bright reflectors. He didn't like this approach very much, as her chilling down offended him somehow. Well, suck it up, princess. Not everybody wanted to take an active part of his sick drama. Immersion in art was quite overrated.

Satisfied with his punch line, Jefferson walked to one of the metal carts, standing on the border between light and the darkness. Snapping the white, rubber gloves on his hands, like a doctor or a forensic specialist he started working on something in silence, moving glass tubs and plastic containers. Well, quite convincing, she had to give it to the guy. Creating this world, he paid attention to every single detail. A syringe appeared as he lifted it up checking if the fluid reached the needle, bubbling at the pointy end and shaking it firmly a few times. She wondered what this liquid was made of. Ginger beer or bubble gum soda?

"Are you aware of chaos theory, Kris? That if the butterfly flaps its wings in Shanghai that could create a tornado in Oregon?" Just when Kris finally started to ignore his presence, she heard him talking.

She almost giggled, but it was better not to enrage him more. Being stabbed by a needle would be the last nail to his coffin, but she wasn't looking forward to experiencing that.

"You think you're a tornado then?"

"No, far from it," Jefferson responded slowly tapping the side of the syringe, then filling it up a bit more. Tap, tap. "I like to think I prevent hurricanes from happening, replacing it with the whisper of waves crashing calmly on the shore. Sacrificing one can bring harmony and armistice. Sacrificing many would bring only death and destruction. An act of art is always selfish but can save so many." She was gifted with a smile she couldn't wait to wipe off.

"How so?"

"Well…" Mark put the syringe down, and turned back to her, still smiling. "I just cut off the butterfly's wings before they start flapping."

"What were you thinking about then?" Nestling in the pirate's arms, Rachel kept listening to the click of train wheels and the blue heartbeat. The slow pace of their ride was making her sleepy, so it was a battle to keep her eyes open. They should prepare for a departure soon since the iron horse probably was about to reach the Columbia river, but neither of them were keen on even moving a finger, too comfortable and enchanted in their cuddle.

"Then?" It took Chloe a moment to absorb what her girl was referring to. "Ah." Breathing out the smoke, the blue memory pondered, getting back to the first days of May almost four years ago and her other self nervously trying to start a small talk exactly in the same train cart. Different life, different circumstances and damn, at the end it turned out so great, but she could still recall the edginess and strange pickup lines. "When would it end? Is this one of Rachel Amber's games or the beginning of something great? And when you ditch me for some fancier friend… Or more likely for a guy like one of those football jerks that were always around. I wasn't that used to hanging out with the most popular people or hanging out, that's it. But deep down I really, really wanted to…" She stopped half-word.

The pause was getting longer. Chloe stuffed the scrubby ember of her smoke and threw out the rest of it into the dark. The tracks were drumming peacefully, playing on her nostalgia and willingness to dive into the past. Not something that the not-so-reckless rebel was unfamiliar with but knew for a fact it was damn addictive. She preferred to think about the future.

Especially now.

"To…?" Rachel whispered, still waiting.

A light blue smirk appeared, followed by the incontrollable shyness and hint of a stutter.

"To… To check if you're real. Touch your shirt. Smell your hair. And…" Her own private mischief was looking directly at Rachel's lips now. "…To kiss you." She added softly, noticing that those hazel eyes sparkled in a distinctive, dangerous way. Evidently, her blonde angel had way more in mind than a simple peck to the mouth. "Don't look at me like that. A kiss seemed extreme enough. I don't think I went further in my mind then."

"Well, I did." Rachel bluntly admitted, tracing the line of the blue lips, from left to right and then yet again. A kiss would be a nice start, but not the end of the road.

Her hand got caught and her fingers kissed.

"Pervert. Damn you, Rach." Chloe gave her a very dirty look, stifling her laughter. "Did you really want to do dirty things with me on this filthy wooden floor and take my innocence?"

"Take everything. Did I hear a complaint? And the state of the floor wasn't my concern at all since I was placing myself on your lap." Actually, it was the reason why even Rachel had thought about the blankets today. Just in case some more passionate developments would take place. "I was giving you so many signals you could literally park a fucking plane on a steep, dark hill with them. It was frustrating." She confessed, not ashamed at all, running fingers through her hair.

"It was." Chloe laughed and pulled her closer.

The blue heartbeat drummed again against Rachel's ears in a peaceful rhythm, mingling with the iron clangs and jangles. She closed her eyes, grateful for being here, for this treasure of a girl who became hers, and for another chance in life to make things right. On the one hand, she didn't appreciate it often, on the other, not a day passed without thinking how blessed and fortunate Rachel Price was.

Fate was a strange thing, so was life.

"That's why I wanted to play two truths and a lie." She murmured, diving back to the past again. It was nice to joke about the beginning, all the missteps and mistakes, shyness and wariness, primarily if the upshot was so satisfying. One of the things that they both valued, a secret knowledge not shared with anybody else, was one of the traditions they cultivated during those long and quite rare moments. Everyday life had eaten up a lot of the magic from their relationship, but they knew how to get it back.

"To have an excuse to put your head on my shoulder or be more frustrated?" Chloe winked. "Wanna play now?"

"You want to get laid or be lied to?" If it was a challenge, Rachel was all ready for it. "Alright. Is there any mystery of yours I haven't uncovered yet?"

They hadn't done it in months, even years, learning more about each other through living together not by simple riddles. It seemed fitting though, as one missing piece they should also preserve.

"I'm sure there is." Her blue pirate announced. "I still have some secrets."

"Alright, now I'm intrigued. Try me, Chloe Price."

To play this game, they couldn't cuddle; otherwise, it would lead strictly to cheating. Sitting in front of each other they both lit up cigarettes, shared the rest of the wine and Chloe secretly put the last piece of pizza in her mouth at once. Giving Rachel the puppy eyes, she felt guilty at once, but her girl waved it off. She was full after this unhealthy cut of cheese and bacon anyway.

"Fact number one." Chloe rose one finger. "I always had a fear of going to Disneyworld. I've always wanted to, but I was too scared of the crowd and getting lost. Fun times can become a nightmare kinda thing. Fact number two." The second finger appeared. The one that was usually used in a different kind of game of insulting strangers. "In sixth grade, I ate eighty something chicken nuggets, and I got so sick that my mom almost called 911. I puked all over the bathroom though. Hated Popeyes ever since." Rachel nodded already calculating her picks. "Fact number three…" Chloe hesitated for a second. "I didn't tell you that the truck exploded because somebody tried to shoot us." She blurted out quickly, raising the third finger and then turning away.

Rachel got quiet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Chloe smirked still trying to stare at the dark nothing in front of her. "This Disneyworld is super scary, man."

"The Disneyworld thing is bullshit since you still want to go, and I have no idea how you ate those chicken nuggets, but you somehow did. You know I'm talking about the old rusty." It wasn't easy to turn Chloe's face to her, but Rachel knew how to manage. She wasn't angry nor even disappointed but really freaking worried. Did anybody want to hurt her girl? Was it an act of revenge? Why though?

"I could've lied twice." As always when put on the spot, her blue treasure grew a bit frantic. Trying to maneuver out of the way too comfortable embrace, she got stopped, kissed and pulled closer as somebody was awaiting answers. Fuck. That wasn't how this game was supposed to play. Although, Chloe wanted to tell Rachel the truth, but couldn't find the right time for such a confession. The window, or rather a wagon of opportunity appeared, but it didn't feel right after all, especially with her wife being so loving and patient. She expected some yelling or decent, fuming accusations, not just a soft, warm kiss again. Damn you, Valentine.

To be frank, this blue pirate didn't really lie at all.

"Chloe, what the fuck happened out there?" Rachel wasn't about to let her go so easily.

Sighing, scoffing, turning around and wriggling didn't help as it never did, so Chloe gave up quickly, relieved and tensed up at the same time.

"I don't know." It was the simple and the sincerest explanation, but Rachel wanted more. What a demanding creature. "David checked the truck and showed me a gunshot hole just above the tank. According to him, it was no accident, and no firework could cause it. He thinks it could be a hunter or some kid playing with his daddy's gun in the woods to celebrate New Year's. You know those redneck dickheads. I didn't want to scare you, and with everything happening right now with college and shit it was just…" What a terrible occasion to bring this asshole back. Her blue heart broke every time Frank Bowers had been mentioned, or his existence was even suggested. Not much, just a crack now, without a scare that the old wound would reopen, but still uncomfortable. Sore. Damn. "Rach, we both know, that there is only one person who could do it intentionally. Only one."

Her girl sighed, focusing on her own cig that ate itself up burning close to her fingers. The blue chest tightened when the silence prolonged. The crack in her heart just got bigger, widening like a gorge shaping up after an earthquake. No biggie though, it was an old tale, they both had gotten over it.

Or had they?

"Apparently more than one." Taking a long inhale, Rachel shrugged, not keen on elaborating but now feeling pressured to. "Bowers is in jail."

"What?" Chloe choked on her smoke. Fighting for another breath, she hit her chest a few times coughing and clearing her throat. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Don't you read the news?" The local newspapers had been risen under the blue pirate's nose a few times, but she obviously ignored them all. Even if understanding why, Rachel hoped that at least the big, bulky headlines got read. Well, shit. "He's still awaiting trial, but he won't get out anytime soon. He's facing some serious charges including some severe drug dealing and murder of his comrade, Damon Merrick. Obviously, somebody found the body and tipped the police. They have all the evidence in the world, including his DNA and locations of his phone. He's fucked." Another long inhale. Rachel closed her eyes thinking about Sera. Her biological mother had kept her word, sending Bowers far away from everybody. As far as she could even if breaking some unwritten laws. "Case closed."

Chloe felt stupid even bringing it back up. Quite a cautionary tale on how to ruin this lovely celebration.

"Maybe it was a lost hunter after all." She murmured still unconvinced.

"Maybe." They both didn't believe it, but at least one of the worst possibilities got scratched out. Oregon wilderness was overpopulated with strangers, freaks and adventure hunters, not often heading back there for the end of the year celebration but neither of the girls could come up with a better explanation. Just a kid with his daddy's gun was as good a guess as any's. "You're terrible." The blue arm got smacked. Rachel finally remembered how to get angry, even showing a shade of her abilities in that regard. "You're fucking terrible, Chloe. Why do you always have to hide shit like that?"

"You know why. I'm a shitty liar. Your turn."

Rachel frowned, totally forgetting about the game they were playing. It took her a while to get back to this specific playful mindset needed to continue. Good. At least one easy way out of this tense topic. Two truths and a lie of a break.

"Ah. Fact number one. When I was like super young, my parents wanted me to get a proper education and forced me to start playing violin..."

"Fingers training?" Chloe cut her off. This blue asshole always tried to crack a joke when anxious or abashed. Her attempt was met with a deep sigh though. Rachel wasn't quite in the mood for nasty jokes. Not anymore.

"Nah. I hated this fucking instrument with all my heart. I couldn't stand playing the same boring notes every day, and it sounded like slaughtered, crying puppies. I felt like a puppy too forced to rasp those four fucking strings. I wasn't terrible or anything, but I ditched it as soon as my parents let me. Anyway, a few years forward, I wanted to impress my girlfriend, Chloe Price."

"Never heard of her."

"Smart. Sassy. Great in Bed?" Apparently, the name still didn't ring a bell. Showing up her great and fake disappointment, Rachel tapped out the ash. "Shame. She's the most incredible person I know."

"Oh, you." Chloe blushed a bit. Well, score.

"So, one day I decided to play something for her, but I was out of practice, so instead of embarrassing myself in front of her, I decided to record it and send it to her via text or something. Painfully romantic, I know." The previous, painful subject got shunned away. Now her mind was filled with the stertorous memory of the four old strings, pulled, pressed and yanked in pure despair. "Anyway, after the whole afternoon of trying to squeeze anything from my old violin and finally recording something kinda decent I smashed the thing against the wall and… I chickened out. I never sent it." Shrugging, Rachel avoided the verdict, pretty sure Chloe would call it bullshit.

"Show it to me." Her blue treasure demanded at once.

"You're calling truth?"

"I'm calling for your phone." It wasn't the right way to serve such a demand, especially that Chloe quickly moved from words to deeds, first trying to grab Rachel's bag and when this didn't occur, with a heavy heart she decided to pull out the big guns. Desperate times called for extreme measures.

"Baby!" Rachel giggled, wrestling with her on the ground, protecting herself from the blue devil tickling her like crazy. Missing the blankets, they rolled on a filthy and dirty floor for a good minute. "Stop!" Finally able to catch her breath, she pushed Chloe back. "I don't have this video anymore. I deleted it." The tickling didn't stop. Fuck. Damn it. "Baby! That was like 3 phones ago!"

Reluctantly, Chloe stopped, jailing her in her arms in return. This game was way better than she had remembered. They should do it more often.

"Will you play for me ever again?"

"Will I torture you with my terrible lack of skills? Sure. See what you're doing to me?" Pushing this devil back was impossible, but she gained a wide grin in return. Fine, if that was how Chloe wanted to play it, she had some big guns too. Kissing her pirate passionately not only sweetened the mood but took her girl aback. They separated, and Rachel still blushing and sweaty, got back to the play. "Fact number two." She announced. "I broke into the principal's office to steal this fucking bird from his desk to give it to you. You always wanted it, so I thought it would serve as a nice surprise, plus I could establish myself as a high rolling criminal in your eyes. But I got caught, and nothing came out of it. Bummer."

Chloe thought for a while but shook her head almost immediately.

"That's too bold for even for you. I'm calling lie."

"Are you sure?" Alright, this one rascal got far too good in this game. "I can be a bad girl if I wanted to. Alright, fine. It's bullshit, but I was seriously considering it at some point. And…" Noticing a small change in the blue eyes, Rachel lost her train of thought. "…What?"

At first, Chloe was just staring at her as her unique manner spoke louder than words. Not moving closer or even trying to reach her, she kept watching her wife, waiting for the speech to form itself, not the other way around. Nothing was forcing her though, there was no need nor urge, but this rare moment was too exceptional to just dismiss.

"Your eyes are sparkling like a thousand stars." The low tone of her voice took Rachel's breath away. "You… You just look stunning."

"Is that what you wanted to say back then?" She whispered, protecting herself from blushing and failing spectacularly.

Resting against the walls, covered with graffiti, profanities, affirmations, and zigzags, Chloe strained again. There was no teddy bear or sad, ashamed puppy, but a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and what she was thankful for. A girl who got born out of a small, shy kid, sitting precisely in the same spot years ago, mumbling and nibbling on her fingernails. Now, the pirate's awareness of inner power and attraction, not faked or forged, was intoxicating. Chloe Price, in all her glory, finally understood the power she had over her own wife and was ready to use it. Rachel got quiet and shy. Thank God she was sitting, as she was sure her legs would be trembling.

If she was a Leo, here came the blue tiger.

"If I could, sure." Her treasure responded narrowing her eyes and gifting her wife with even more chills. "I was so speechless. Shit fact, every time I look at you I still am. I can't find words to describe how you make me feel. The fact that you are here… With me. Mine. Still mine. And…" Breaking her act, Chloe sighed looking at the starry sky up there. The dark wall of trees was still whirling and zipping, but the firmament remained still. "Without you, I felt so trapped in this dark room in my head without any light. And hope and… and now everything is… so bright. Just like the stars and…" The moment had passed. The confession, even if starting at the high note was crumbling down to pieces, so she shut up respectfully, hoping not to embarrass herself more.

"Chloe…"

The kiss was slow, with sparks of passion, careful and fervent, wary in one way and obsessive in another. While them being a couple, they had learned that this simple, basic caress had so many flavors, tastes, and varieties. The cozy, lazy one in the morning when both were rushing, dressing up, searching for car keys or arguing about breakfast. The aching and sweet one after the whole day longing for each other. The burning with fire one, when they both needed to feed one another with a skin to skin hunger for a moan. And this one. Special, sealing the deal one. The kind of kiss that occurs rarely and you put your heart and soul into it, giving yourself up with no return. The one that lasts forever or should.

Surprisingly, it was Chloe who broke it off.

"Yeah. That was something I wanted to do then. So…" She said brushing off a piece of cig's ash from the blonde hair. They both forgot about their smokes. "What's your third thing?"

"My third thing? Ah. Uh. Well." A deep breath was a challenge hard to complete. Gathering her thoughts even more. Rachel cleared her throat. "I applied to UMass, didn't tell you shit, and I got in."

Chloe blinked.

"What?"

"I got in." That was why talking about Boston came so easily for Rachel. She already proceeded with plan B, suggested by no one other than her own wife. It would be repellent to insist on Harvard without a chance to even get waitlisted. UMass was still a painful evidence of the most remarkable failures in her life, but at least an option. "Not that it's like a huge achievement or anything, but they took me on the spot. It's not Harvard, but still, Boston campus, good Uni with a decent law program, and I will be…" Her cigarette was decisively taken away from her fingers. "Hey..." And thrown away. Chloe slid close to her, pulling her tighter and kissing her one more time. This time her lips were screaming fire. "Stop…" Rachel breathed in. "You're breaking the rules. That's not how you make your call." Being pressed against the blue storm with her neck being kissed feverishly, the only choice was to give up.

"Winners set their own rules, Rach." Her treasure whispered and then cupped her face in her hands. "I'm calling… Congrats?"

"Good call."

"Nathan… Please." Kris whispered, desperately looking around. "Untie me. Please. Before he comes back!"

When Jefferson left the room, shutting the giant, heavy door after himself, she thought that her brother would either rush to free her or at least offer her some explanation, but so far he was just standing still, mumbling something to himself and scratching his own palms till the bloody tracks of his fingernails marked the skin. At first Kris was under the impression they had been watched but it didn't seem to be the case. Nathan's own mental state and extreme confusion were frightening though. Moving back and forth, pale as a wall, spilling, spinning and sometimes kicking the black couch in front of him. Her little brother was quite frankly losing his mind, literally. There was a touch of a misery in his behavior too, as if he was forced to do something he really didn't want to participate in and was more than reluctant about surrendering to his teacher's will. There was no chance in hell this madness was his idea.

Not a chance.

"He won't come back." Taking a step back Nathan peered at Joshua who nonchalantly was sitting on the glass table, chewing on his favorite fruit and scrolling through his phone. Knowing his bolder, older brother, was probably setting up some debauched dates for later tonight. They had a job to do first, even if they could still consider it as a pleasure, at least Josh would. "It's between us now. Only." He quickly said to Kris but got silent when his other sibling moved his arms, stretched out and then took the stage, walking slowly to their outcasted, disgusting sister.

Nathan's favorite person in the whole world.

"You didn't change at all." Josh greeted her, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch. The dark room was a freezing place, but all of them were sweating. Kris, as always, ignored his presence not aware her fate was already cooked up, with a detailed plan of the whole game and every step carefully discussed. "Funny." He glanced at her, tilting his head to the right, then left and, out of nowhere, laughed out loud. Kris blinked, even more confused. "You still think you matter, huh?"

Nathan's hands started to shake so much he had to hid them in the pockets to take any control over his body. Surprisingly, his jacket was also gone but he couldn't recall when he took it off. Perhaps he left it in the car when they dragged Kris out. Yeah, that was probably it.

Suddenly, he got pushed so hard he lurched and staggered. It was a subtle way his brother communicated when he expected some engagement and friendly backup. If it depended on Josh, Kris would be already transformed, done, gone forever. Nathan had to man up though, it was his test of character and battle with his weakness. "Go on." Josh rushed him, punching his arm again. "You chicken shit."

And Nathan, with his eyes closed, lips trembling and palms closing into fists, obeyed. Broken, he was so fucking broken. Weak. He would agree to anything to be set free and simply be done with… Whatever needed to be done. One way or another.

"I thought that when you came back you did it because of me and that there is hope." It was more a recitation of a memorized passage than a true confession. Nathan had problems to decide what was factual though. Was it his own inner voice, a soft and calm whisper of peace, or Joshua's bold spot-on demands? "Like for us to reconnect like real beings, but then I got it." He nodded slowly just like his better, braver, big brother. "You are not real. You've never been real, and it hurts."

"She was never real." Joshua repeated, spitting on the floor. A splash of bubbly saliva mixed with the dark juice and grape seeds started to soak in the carpet. Bitch didn't even get scared, still trying to bite and attack like filthy, viscous animal. She should've known better though. She should've remembered every mad dog's fate.

Her deep inhale was shaky, either from fear or irritation.

"I'm real." Kris insisted, not really understanding what the whole thing was about. Sensing that calming down Nathan was her only chance to get out, she was trying to speak calmly and sound rational. Nothing was rational anymore though. Nothing. "I'm your sister, Nathan. Please." She tried to wriggle out of her ties again but couldn't make any progress. Without help she would be stuck here until…

Well, until they would get bored, she guessed.

"You know what's really funny?" Walking in circles, Joshua was coming close to her and then getting back to the wall of shadows, like a boxer in an invisible ring. He even trotted a bit, preparing for the first strike. His opponent was powerless and feeble though, not really a competition but that was how he liked it. Fair fights were way too overrated. "That you keep demanding things, even if held hostage and helpless. You think that you can order me around like one of your whores. You think I'm just a worthless piece of shit!" He almost hit her but stopped his hand an inch from her face. Feeding on the fear in her eyes, Josh giggled, tangling her hair slowly, terrifying her even more with his supposed soft side.

"It's not her fault!" Nathan tried to drag him back but got pushed away. "She was just programmed like that!"

"So, it's time to turn the systems down." His brother smiled, finally letting Kris's hair go. Her head got pushed aside like she was a living doll. "All of them."

"What systems? You're scaring me." Their sister finally started to panic. "Is this… Is this…" Trying any kind of reasonable explanation was an absurd. Why would he tie up his own sister on Valentine's day? With what purpose in mind? Who would scare her to death yelling those bizarre claims? She didn't even wonder about Jefferson's motivations already labelling him as a dangerous lunatic, but little Nat was a different story. "Is it because we… didn't spend much time together?" Her voice broke down to a whine when she took her guess, afraid her brother wouldn't give any more chances.

The idea that this whole thing was just an elaborated hoax, was fading away quickly though. The number of red flags was piling up and her brother was acting more and more bizarre. At the beginning, Kris assumed there had been some kind of accident, maybe a car crash and Nathan somehow used this opportunity to drag her to this eccentric dungeon. Perhaps they didn't have any other choice or maybe it was just part of the play, the beginning of which she had missed, spacing out or simply fainting. Working so hard lately, Kris hadn't been sleeping much nor eating properly. So she could've been just weak and anemic, right? Bullshit. The more she thought about it, even if still lightheaded and with her sight blurry, the less it made sense.

She was drugged and brought here on purpose.

"Time? You don't even know what it means!" Her brother went on another rant, switching personalities from a shy kid to arrogant asshole. "You pushed and pulled, promised and never delivered, just drowning yourself, swimming in this swamp of your own weaknesses. I can teach you how to swim, you know? I really can." Josh giggled and turned around almost in a pirouette. "I'm good at it. Kristen Prescott, always so proud, looking down on others but being eaten out inside by her own flaws and sick needs. You need to accept who you are. We will help you to accept it!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Feeling the headache coming back, she frowned trying to stay sane. This was madness though, but Kris wasn't sure if she was losing it or her sibling was. The more Nathan talked, the crazier it sounded. If that was supposed to be a riddle, she needed a solid hint.

"That I'm done with fake smiles. I want to show you the real one. Your turn." Getting bored, Josh turned over to his brother. This whole performance was just for him after all. "Tell her."

"Now?" Nathan got even more pale.

"Yes, now." He almost got slapped by Josh again. Mark allowed them to have a final word with her, graciously letting him take over, but would not tolerate any mistakes or missteps. His brother wouldn't bear it either. "Don't you fuck it up. Once you say it aloud it would be easier."

Nathan's shirt was soaking wet from sweat. Shuddering and quivering he paced in place, trying to grow some courage. How did one build self-esteemed? Could it be built on fear and coercion? Or perhaps he could just borrow some from Josh? Could you be forced to be brave? He had seen so many of those young girls change into objects and then pushed into the abyss of art, making them serve a bigger role. He was special, but he didn't feel like it. Now, Nathan Prescott would give anything to just become ordinary guy, one of those pathetic, regular folks that everybody despised.

"Alright." He nodded, licking his lips. "You… You are… You are nothing to me. And…" Every word felt like a painful vomit. Sick to his stomach, Nathan started shaking more, afraid of Josh's punishment. He had never practiced this part of his speech, hoping it would never go that far. This hope was far-fetched, since Josh always got what he wanted. "You'll never be anything more than just a piece of dirt. Like… And I feel bad so bad that I trusted you, I think you are real or could be part of me."

"I'm part of you." Kris responded at once. No hesitation, no meltdown, no nervous stumbling on words. That was the truth she believed in. "I always wanted the best for you!"

"Lies!" Joshua hissed. "All lies. You came back for her. To Gingrich!"

"You said you came back for me and it was just a lie." Nathan echoed, thankful for the point made by his sibling. She couldn't trick them into another empty promise.

Tired of the constant yelling and accusations, Kris lowered her head spacing out and escaping into her own mind. The mouthful responses were just frying her brain and making her dizzier. Blocking out Nathan's screams wasn't easy but still feeling the drug in her bloodstream, she somehow succeeded, floating on the outskirts of awareness. Steph. She should take her sailing, just like her parents a long time ago when times were simpler and easier. Just the two of them against the bay, with the whole world to conquer. Steph would like it, Kris thought randomly, like making plans was still an option. Take her far away. Safe.

Keep her at bay.

Noticing her girlfriend got mentioned, she opened her eyes, fully alerted. Was he planning to do similar thing to Steph? Fuck no. No. Never.

"No. It was just a coincidencce. I came back for you. I'm sorry." Admitting her mistakes usually soften him up. Groveling should work even better. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I will. I promise. I will."

Ready to pledge everything he needed, she looked around, noticing her sight got used to the dark a bit, and the series of black and white photos hanging out the wall were easier to decipher. Young girls with their blank, empty sight lying on the floor with hands and legs tied. One after another, modeled in similar poses, with lips half-open, and gray, blind eyes unconscious and lifeless. A masquerade of art lined up in dozens of parallel shots, with the same internal scream visible screaming from hundreds of dead eyes.

She wasn't the first.

"Bullshit. What were you thinking?" Joshua laughed. "That we wouldn't notice?"

"Who is we?" Kris asked, still staring at the walls. So many of them. All so young.

She got hit in the face so hard, that her lip exploded in red.

"Ignorance won't help you, bitch." Shaking his hand Joshua jogged away, very pleased with himself. He got her; she didn't even notice. Oh, he had wanted to do it for years and now she was just glaring at him with this stupid look on her face. Screaming and whistling in excitement, he began to run in circles, jumping up every other step. It was childish and all, but he deserved some fun.

It needed to be fun!

"You did everything for her and nothing for me!" Seeing her hurt, Nathan started crying. It didn't matter how hard he tried to stop; the tears ran down his cheek like two unstoppable, salty creeks. "I'm your brother!" He wept, drooling a bit. "You supposed to think about me! Me!"

Spitting and snorting, Kris got fed up.

"You want me to break up with her? Is that it?"

"Would you do it?" Surprised, Nathan forgot about his hysteria. If she promised, like really promised, perhaps his brother would turn things around and no test would be needed? He knew it was impossible, but if Kris really tried this time…

"Yeah, would you?" Joshua got interested. "If we offer to let you go, would you call your little slut and tell her to get the fuck out?"

Shaking her head, Kris wanted to laugh. After being locked down for hours in this artsy chamber, they finally got to the point. She was stupid enough to believe Nathan really wanted to seriously hurt her, but apparently the only thing he wanted was the same shit that her father asked for. It would have to take more than a bleeding lip to let her Steph go.

Way more.

"So that's what it is about? Nice Valentine's day, little brother. You stink of Prescott power now. He trained you so well." She was referring to their father, but Nathan smiled proudly thinking of a different teacher. That made her more furious and way less careful. "You can't get what you want, or you have to wait a bit, so you just jail people, tie them up to blackmail them? You're such a piece of shit, Nat. Just a fucking maniac. You think that you can just stand here with your grim smile and threaten me? I'm not one of your toys, I'm your sister!"

"You are not!"

Breathing heavily, Kris didn't speak out for a good minute. Nathan got worried that she had a heart attack or something, but it wasn't the case. This discussion was just a waste of breath indeed and her mouth was hurting. Lastly, raising her head she looked directly at him. Not at Joshua, not in the space or in an unidentified direction. At him.

"Untie me, Nathan." She said simply.

"He's not the one to make that call and he can't set you free." Ready to hit her again, Josh leaped forward but got stopped by Nathan. They wrested a bit, scoffing, growling and barking at each other, and somehow the younger brother won this fight, pushing him back. "It's ok." Shaking off like a dog after a good run, Josh pointed at her. "We can cure you. Change you. It's ok." He touched her cheek, not bothered by the blood on his fingers. "Set you free. I can make you real, I can change you to someone that would matter. Transform you and myself."

Something in his voice made Kris terrified. Deadly scared.

"Stop it." She warned him but her voice was shaking.

"You are nothing to me." Nathan yelled back, finding himself so close to her, even if he was standing ten feet away. How did he get here? "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!" He considered the old trick for a moment, to count to ten and make his brother disappear again, but was too afraid Josh would really leave, like he almost had done last time. It took Nathan three weeks to bring him back. Three weeks of a lonely, pure hell. "I'm so sorry." He whispered softly hoping his brother didn't hear it. "I'm so, so sorry…"

There was no choice. One road. One track.

Joshua laughed, walking to the desk.

"That's the end of the ride, you see? That's the end. Sorry, big sis." Whistling the well-known melody, he started to prepare. Mark did a lot, but Joshua had a way better idea how to solve this issue. His teacher's transformations always seemed boring. The objects were just put asleep like good, tired puppies. Josh wanted something spectacular, something worth remembering and entertaining. Something really special. "You know what to do." He said handing something to Nathan. "And you better not miss this time."

When her brother approached slowly, she finally noticed what he was holding in his shaking hands. It wasn't a syringe with a needle, that Kris hoped to miss or fight with if needed. It was a gun, a real gun. The same weapon she had seen in her father's office when she ransacked his precious desk to find some charity papers. The same that her brother was staring at greedily many times but never dared to touch. Never, till this very day.

"No." Kris's eyes grew bigger in panic. This time it wasn't a joke. "Nat, please, no. You're better than this. You can fight it. You can do it." Blurting words didn't stop him. He took another step, still avoiding her begging sight. "Look at me. Please, please." Her desperate plea was drowning in the loud whistle. Main theme of 'The sound of the music' was always making Nathan calmer and more focused. "We can work it out. I promise. We can do it. We…" The tip of the cold, metal barrel to her forehead cut it short.

Kris gasped.

"I'm not Nathan, Kris." Her brother said with his finger slowly tightening on the trigger. "I'm Joshua."

"Damn, it's so fucking dark. I can't see shit." Chuckling, Chloe turned around, surprised at how dark the wagon had become. The candles died in between one speedy turn and another spin, so they got used to be lit up only by the starry sky. When the car door got closed to save them from the cold and the whistling wind, they found each other hugged by the pitch-black curtain of blindness. Finding one another was yet another hassle.

At first, the blue pirate regretted her decision to close them up with no source of light but hearing Rachel's giggle her heart jumped. There was something alluring in seeking her other half in this dark room of sorts, alone but not lonely, with a happy end granted.

"Then you will have to find me." Her wife whispered somewhere in the darkness.

Lost a bit without the burning, hazel smile, Chloe reached for her meeting nothing. Following a soft whisper of flannel and subtle squeals of the floor under the blonde steps, she started her hunt, at first hoping it would take a second. Rachel escaped once, then again, daring to be found. Alright. A true challenge then. Chloe grinned. But then she took one guess, then another, and her hands remained empty. Yet one more attempt of a seize, same result. The space was limited though, it shouldn't be that hard by any means, but somehow, they both liked to prolong this game. Her girl loved games though, along with acting and bending the truth, this time adding darkness to the mix. With confusion and excitement growing, Chloe tried again, but got deceived. Somebody tapped her arm, so she turned around, but not fast enough.

Rachel giggled.

Finding her way around, the blue closed her eyes breathing deeply and following the sounds. Not an easy task with the constant train's patter, but she tuned it out focusing on the frailer noise. The shadows were too misleading anyway and fighting with her eyesight still not accustomed to the dark was taking forever. Listening closely, Chloe paused for a second. Nothing. Just a rustle, then a chuckle and a quiet laughter. Waiting in place, she could feel the spark of touch, or rather its promise, reminding herself the right moment was about to come. Then she bounced back and leaped forward, unfortunately almost losing balance. Not her fault though. The wagon's wooden walls shook heavily with another rapid turn and Chloe stumbled upon one of the boxes, kicking one of the glasses down. Damn it.

This shrilling sound confused Rachel, so she stopped in place, giving up this hide-and-seek challenge at once. Chloe didn't waste her chance this time, cornering her and pressing against the still trembling wall. Maybe they were both shuddering a bit though, so hungry for each other.

"I will always find you." The blue whisper brushed Rachel's ear, followed by another deep, intense kiss. No awkward teen, shocked by the fact that her new and first girlfriend ever could be turned on as hell by some awkward and obstinate approach, no tongue-tied perplexity, but a grown-up pirate who knew exactly how to steer this fever. New and old, always tempting.

Damn, some joy was about to happen, Rachel sensed the blue, bold smile on her lips and gave up completely. Some particular fire was coming, brewing up already, to cover all the worries, problems and half-truths and shake the ground in a special, well-known way. Well, about time.

Wasn't that what Valentine's Day was about?

Click. Clunk. Clack. Approved the train, now slowing down as their hearts started racing.

Discovering her girl anew and guided only by a breath or a moan, Rachel was slowly taking over. Through pulling pointy spikes of hair and touching to sensitive skin, she evoked a blue pant, asking kindly not to wait so long. Kiss, another one, this time to Chloe's neck, her reacting with every fiber of her body. Smile. Moan. Inhale. There was something weirdly alluring in the common blindfold and lack of sight they were sharing.

Suddenly, Rachel frowned. Liberating her treasure from tons of extremely trivial things called clothes was usually the less memorable stage of the process, but this time some sort of surprise was awaiting her.

"Are you wearing lace?" She had to ask to make sure, but damn, it was damn obvious what she just discovered.

Gratefully, the blackness of the wagon ate up Chloe's blush. There was no question it had appeared and probably would stay for a longer while.

"It's Valentine's for fuck's sake…" She mumbled, thankful for the lack of light and a bit disappointed that a nice Chloe wasn't presented in a more visual way. Maybe it was for the best though. This pitch-dark thing wasn't that bad after all though. The gift was discovered with minimum questions asked. Or comments.

Rachel gasped, knowing for a fact that any kind of lingerie was always her duty and it was close to impossible to even ask Chloe for such a step. Not that she really wanted it, enjoying her pirate's style, but damn, that was surprising. And hot. Her beautiful poor treasure tortured herself for the whole evening for this one moment. Turning red, Rachel wanted to crack a joke, but found herself unable to, already too consumed by attraction to think straight. Actually, to think at all, full stop.

"Oh…"

"Just shut up…" Chloe mumbled.

Click. Clunk. Clack. The train laughed.

Kiss, another kiss, gasp and they both started traveling through this one, fast-paced road of no return. No turning back, no stops or crossroads. No traffic lights or obstacles. Click. Clunk. Clack. One track. Chloe demanding another kiss and getting one. Speeding. Turn, pause and more speed. The same pace as the railway's. Faster.

Taking her and guided only through the sharp breath, grasp of fingers and tons of invisible sparks, Rachel evoked her expectations and longings when they had been taking this train ride for the first time ever. The flavor of Chloe's skin she imagined, the taste of their first kiss and its circumstances, the way she would smile, hiding her bliss. How much more it was different from reality and how compelling. Now, she had her blue treasure melting under her touch, reacting to every small twitch and teased pause. Breath and pant, skin against skin, the sharp spikes of hair. Playing badass, her blue treasure was now so sensitive, so fragile, giving herself away with no fear or apprehension. That was how the blue self-esteem was born though, Rachel thought randomly, not stopping the kiss and having her girl in her power. Through dedication and love. Years of hard work.

Click. Clunk. Clack.

Her amazing pirate wrapped herself around the touch even more. There was nothing more amazing than feeling her so close to heaven, leading and protecting in a greedy but totally selfless way. It took a moment longer to get her there, and Chloe weakened in her arms, panting hard and shaking.

"I got you." Rachel bought her back. "I'm here."

Click. Clunk. Clack.

There was a series of sharp inhales, and then one, long, final gasp. Slowing down wasn't an option for this wild, crazy drive. The blue sensitivity changed its flavor, as Chloe immediately strived for some payback. This revenge was more than anticipated though. No obstacles, no search, no games to play. The lack of sight was actually helping though, making it better and richer. Rachel closed her eyes, drowning in darkness again, but the abyss was harmless, safe. She was needed, protected, wanted. The train puffed and wheezed. Nothing wrong with it. The rhythm got a bit stronger. Nothing bad would ever happen, even if they both got locked in the empty carriage running through the night.

This darkness was safe.

The fuzzy obscurity, the sound of the railway running into the night, the harsh surface of the wagon's floor. Chloe's hand under her shirt, an impatient gasp when she couldn't deal with the bra clasp. Usually Rachel would giggle, perhaps even push her away for a second, playing hard to get, but this time she didn't want to waste a second. With their eyes closed and deprived from looking at each other, they could only guess each other's wishes, composing this moment from scraps of breaths and heated touches. Turn. The tracks drumming. The blockers squeaking trying to break. No breaking. Suddenly this absurd, silly need appeared, to be closer, feel her with every nerve, clock herself around her, make her more hers.

Click. Clunk. Clack.

Rachel moaned.

She dragged her closer, hungry, no, actually starving for the skin to skin touch, in need for some the blue insanity. Her pirate was losing her mind again, already drunk on every move, sharp breath and a feverish grasp. Wind hitting the sides of the cart. This steel hum of train's wheels. Click. Clunk. Clack. Faster. The steady but wild pace adding fuel to the fire. Rachel wanted to say something, but couldn't find her voice, lost somewhere with her vision and the must to keep going. Close, they were close.

Click. Clunk. Clack.

Her last moan was loud, but silent, muted by the noise of steel train tracks' rattle.

Silence. Drumming silence, broken in half by half-pitch, hardly audible screech drilling in his ears, muffling the world outside and replacing it with the steel, cold numbness. Splatters of blood. White flash. A foot in a sneaker laying on the ground. Not moving. Nothing was moving. Joshua said something, but he couldn't hear him, maybe didn't want to. Flash. Mark working, moving around like a fuming wasp. His hand flickering on the shutter. White shirt with this little rush of dark spatters. Usually, the sound of the lenses shrinking was very distinctive, loud, powerful. Now nothing. Not a sound. Just this foot, a foot not moving. Black laces, red and white stripes of leather. Dirty soil. Just by a chair, that mercifully fell on the other side hiding the real horror but not stopping the river of red rivulets. Panting heavily, Nathan took a step back, scared by the black barrel of a gun, now peacefully placed on the glass table. It looked just like one of his toys, as dangerous as a teddy bear or dancing monkey, shaped like one of the weapons but entirely harmless. So, it was a dream then, he thought. What a relief. What a nightmare to even imagine what they were about to do.

The barrel was still hot. Nathan pressed harder just to make sure not worrying his fingertips would get burned or scarred. If this reality was for him to control, it should get cold in a second just in a snap, just because he thought so. The pistol remained hot, burning, sizzling even, despite his efforts.

Then he noticed the splashes of blood, more blood, contrasting harshly with the white finish of the photo screen backdrop. Static. Quiet. Numb. Flash. Mark was still working.

"…essive." The sound was slowly getting back, repapering and refurbishing slowly. Getting up and turning off the lights, his mentor opened the display screen on his camera going through the newly acquired photos. He was taking shot after shot for a few minutes if not hours, documenting their last project with every detail, aspect, and angle. As always when captivated by his work, he hadn't said much yet, leaving his opinion till the job was done. Apparently, he was pleased though. "Truly impressive. What you dared to do was essential in its form and shape, confident and fearless. Exceptional." Click, slide. "Brilliant." Slide. "Brave." Slide, slide, slide. Click. Nathan closed his eyes embracing the high-pitch sound, trying to escape, run away to his cozy place, safe harbor but there weren't any. The step was taken. It was done. "The way you recreated her, changed into something she would never become was unbelievable. This is truly a work of high art. Your art." He felt Mark's hand on his shoulder. "You're truly a special person, Nathan. I'm proud of you."

The blood didn't look that scary on black and white photographs.

"Are you?" He whispered, thinking about the foot, not the person but one shoe still there. Stiff. Calm. Peaceful.

"We have to hide her." Joshua appeared from the dark, leaping closer, hungry for more visuals. Always applauding Jefferson's actions, he was the first to look at the display. Whistling in wonder, he grinned a few times widely, spitting a few grape seeds. Jefferson winced. He hated this habit of his favorite. "I was thinking the bay, just make her swim." Cheerfully, like awaiting another adventure, Joshua turned back to their teacher. "Can we make her swim?"

The silence got worse when his brother dragged Nathan nearer and forced him to watch and absorb every detail. It was their project, their greatest creation, the final cut. Click after click, slide following by slide, they watched their sister or rather what remained of her, sinking in a dark, paddle of blackness. A calm, dark surface of the ocean, not touched by a gust of wind or misshapen by a random wave. The persuasive noise got so high, that Nathan got dizzy, expecting a nose bleed or his ears exploding.

She was swimming already, he wanted to say, but couldn't. Swimming. Floating. Diving. She was gone. There was no she.

Just the shoe.

With a finger pressed against his chin, Mark pondered for a moment, considering this option. Both Joshua and Nathan knew for a fact, he loved sailing almost as much as his art, escaping the dreary existence in Arcadia in his boat and striving for lonely journeys. Just him, the stars and Pacific, a perfect trio that helped him to focus. Wouldn't it be great to include his newest transformation in his second favorite passion?

"Marrying her with the waves of the bay is a beautiful idea, however…" Mark winced. "It's way too risky." Transporting the body to the harbor and dragging it to the yacht, especially in a day when the whole city was celebrating was blatantly stupid. Even if tempted, he had to put this idea to rest. "First, we have to remember to cover the tracks." He reminded Nathan, walking quickly to the pile of things once belonged to Kris. "You have to be safe from those who wouldn't understand or appreciate." Opening her purse, he began to search it but became annoyed quickly and just threw out all the junk on the glass table. A few coins, make-up stuff, notes, bills, and the mobile in a dark, leather case. "It that her phone? What's the password?"

"0711" Josh responded at once. He always knew everything. "Gingrich's birthday."

Both brothers walked to Jefferson who started scrolling through the messages grimacing a bit. Even if pretty good with technology it took him a moment to find the right icon and the list of conversations. Circled by his students, he started typing in a hurry.

Sorry. Something came up. I had to catch last minute flight to NYC.

Joshua shook his head.

"Let me." He said reaching for the phone. Jefferson didn't protest, passing him the device.

It was a mistake. I need some time. Will get back to U when I feel ready. Getting to NYC and will stay there with friends. Sorry.

"You don't want this girl to think that something is off." One click and it got sent. Joshua threw the phone on the couch, grabbing more grapes and putting them all in his mouth. Chewing loudly, he grinned one more time, showing blackened teeth and spitting with the juice.

Mark nodded. It sounded believable, better, less conspicuous. As Nathan had mentioned a few days ago when they planned the whole operation, his sister had been going through some problems in the so-called relationship. Young lovers of his objects were usually bigger problems than parents who knew close to nothing about their children, especially during the high school times. Steph Gingrich wouldn't have any reason to look for her mate then.

"Perhaps we should…" Nathan stumbled upon his own words. "We should bury her with the other one?" He suggested, not believing he was actually able to say it. Everything was better than this foot, this shoe still in within his sight.

"Yeah. Good idea. And good job, Nathan." He hardly could hear Jefferson talking. "Good job, son. You're driving."

The train yanked, hummed, puffed and rested on its breaks with a loud metal squeak and another whizzer.

"Fuck." Rachel was the first to sit back, listening closely. "I think it stopped." Gathering her clothes as quickly as never before, she pressed them to her chest just in case somebody would open the door. The blankets could serve as a sheet, not a cover, not to mention she would have to make a choice between sitting her naked ass on the wooden floor and a doubtful shield. And there was some broken glass up there, thanks to some blue lack of grace.

Chloe was way less cautious, standing up and putting on her pants, this time not even bothered by her underwear. Suffering for half a day with this monstrosity in the form of sexy lingerie was enough. Yes, gross, but this red lace almost cut her in half during the hike. So, fuck it, laundry existed.

"Shit." She whispered trying to take a sneak peek of the outside and met only with pitch darkness. "Do you know where we are?"

"Hopefully, Seattle. Or Canada." Rachel inhaled nervously, trying to find her bra somewhere between the crust of pizza, empty glasses of wine and the rest of mess they had left behind. "I lost track of time." She confessed shyly. They lost track of time, falling asleep naked in each other's arms, hugged to sleep by the monotonous song of the railway. The whole journey was planned only for a few stops, with an easy return. Walking home was off the table at the moment though. "Now I have to figure out how to get back." She pondered. If they landed in the Emerald City, it should be easy to find a bus, even with a few stops. If it was indeed Vancouver, B.C, it might be pretty problematic, since Rachel wasn't up to paying 30 bucks for tickets though or rather wouldn't be able to. Uber or any other kind of cab was out of the question for the same reason. Not to mention neither of them had passports or enhanced driver licenses, available in Washington state only. So, walking for days, hitchhiking or catching another illegal train ride not jump-free this time, were their only solutions.

Damn it.

Her blue pirate shook her head, kneeling in front of her and handing her the lost bra. Helping her wife to find all the pieces of clothing she didn't care about her nakedness, smirking a bit at her girl's tenseness. When the blonde dignity was somehow secured, she cupped Rachel's face in her hands and kissed very, very slowly. Her wife blinked, not sure of the reasons for such delay, but then melted under the blue, loving sight. It was alright, her pirate was saying, having the conversation with her eyes only. It would be more than fine, her lips promised. Suddenly, the dirty floor of the wooden wagon, the panic about getting caught or even travel back home became meaningless. Nonexistent.

"Who cares about coming back?" Chloe whispered just before another deep kiss happened.

So that was it. A text message, not even a call. Few words, a few commas, period, the end. Something that she felt was coming, or secretly hoping for, now became a reality, sorely throbbing and overpoweringly painful. It came just after she had convicted herself that they would make it work, they had a chance in this world to bend their ways and look forward to something greater, bigger and brighter. It wasn't an easy battle to win with herself, but she managed, finally vowing to forget about Max and moving forward like she was expected to do.

Now, Steph was in the dark. Partly because she felt like she should care more and that was killing her inside as well. Being dumped on Valentine's day should be more seriously way troubling, but even if hurt, she felt numb, not caring just like this whole bleep, message, blight screen on her phone, the brutal consequences of it was just a movie she was watching not living through it. Did Kris do it because of her? Was Steph to blame, because of all her doubts and outburst of anger? Was she just acting childish and Kris got fed up? Even if announced as a temporary separation, just a break to spend time with some New York friends, a short, reasonable pause, was more or less permanent. Couples rarely got back together after such a thing. Especially if they couldn't find common ground. Especially if it got declared on Valentine's.

Fucking pink shitty festive. She hated this day.

Perhaps it was for the best though, maybe it wasn't an entirely bad idea. It was better to stop this fake madness, avoiding another evening filled with walking on eggshells and promises that led nowhere. It was nice to fantasize about the secret beach spot, prepare flowers and a few chocolate surprises, but deep down she had known it wouldn't be appreciated anyway. Moreover, earlier today Steph indeed hoped for something similar to happen, but when it actually did occur, she felt like shit.

Her fault. Fuck. Not her fault.

Dark. It was so dark and cold today. Even the stars decide to ditch her hiding behind the sharp-shaped clouds. Wandering for hours, Steph noticed she reached Blackwell, subconsciously trying to get back home. Home, well, funny word. It had lost its meaning a long time ago since she was either staying with the Norths, her parents, Kris and sometimes even sleeping in her van. Quite a hobo solution but everything was better than being driven up the wall with people prying, questioning, requesting things.

Walking towards the main building, she noticed Max standing close to the main dorm gate. Steph sighed, close to a meltdown. Not this, not again. This time the little freckle was entirely alone, probably waiting for somebody to come out or just catching the last breath of night air before her bedtime. The dawn would break in a few hours starting another school day, so it was time to catch on sleep or just manage to nap before the classes. Hopefully, Max didn't sneak out for a smoke, getting into this terrible habit with full force, Steph though and then scolded herself with a sneer. Even if though, it wasn't anybody's business anymore.

The fact that Max couldn't sleep either didn't even cross Steph's mind.

She lowered her head, wishing not to be noticed yet again and slip by hiding in the shadows. The backyard was significantly lit though, so not an easy task in the dead, empty area. The maze of paths felt like thorny, convoluted railway, with trails trailblazed and set in iron, limiting her options and choices. Take one and stick to it, she thought, knowing that going across would be even more suspicious. Picking the longer route, she turned left, trying to walk around Max and made it easier for both of them, but then with the corner of her eye, she noticed that some shadows just moved.

Steph stopped by the crossroads, not sure if it was just her imagination or the fact she was mostly enjoying the view of her old, dirty converses, but then she heard fast steps, somebody's quick breath, and sensed the smell she had known so well mixed with some beer and smoke. Different, a bit distant but still more than familiar. Afraid a bit, she lifted her head and met the sight of the girl she couldn't stop thinking about.

"Hi." Max smiled stepping forward.