Work Text:
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Amanda breathes in deeply.
“So there’s this girl… Max. Um. We’ve been getting closer recently…” She thinks back to the kiss, laughing softly. “Um. Really close.”
Amanda doesn’t miss the way the therapist glances at her. Seeing this therapist for so long, she’s sure that she knows exactly the way this is going.
“A bit of a walking disaster.” Amanda jokes faintly, and…
She thinks back to the impossible storm. The absolute mind-fuckery of that place. Everyone disappeared in a single moment, and she was all alone. Doors, trembling violently, barricaded by chairs and trees. She was stuck inside and couldn’t contact anyone. The eye of the storm through the window. Gwen, outside, in a trance, muttering nonsense to herself.
And…
She remembers the kiss. She was ready for more.
She remembers rejecting Max in her living room. They weren’t ready yet.
She remembers Safi’s death. Of her living.
She felt Safi’s anger at everyone and everything.
And at the centre of it…
“...Amanda? You okay?”
She flexes her fist, taking a deep breath in.
A beat.
“...Yeah. I’m okay.” She responds, unsure.
Another beat.
“So, can you tell me more about Max?” The therapist gently nudges, snapping Amanda out of her stupor.
“Oh, right.” Amanda says, giggling nervously. She slaps her head gently, “Yeah, duh, of course. Max. Max is…”
Her voice softens. “She’s one of a kind.”
”She’s this new… photographer artist in residence at the school I work near — Caledon — and wow.” Amanda shakes her head, a small smile on her face. “She’s got a strange habit of taking photos of these… abandoned spaces.”
“…It’s actually really good.”
The therapist nods, writing down on her notepad.
”She’s so awkward, but somehow she’s… really good at flirting? Like ma’am, I did not know you had it in you!” Amanda exclaims, raising her hands up briefly with a chuckle. “And… she’s so brave. She… helped a lot of people in the storm.”
Her therapist interjects. “When you say she helped a lot of people in the storm…?”
”She helped a lot of people get back on their feet.” She responds swiftly. Amanda remembers it like it was a fucked up nightmare — her own fear to get out into the storm, and Max just… walked outside, no reservation. She remembers how powerless she felt, watching Max risk her life just to save Gwen. Max gave her instructions to stay inside, and Amanda listened, and felt that if she stepped outside, she would not be where she thought she’d be.
She had not felt as helpless as she did at that moment.
”God, and we just got ..really close really fast, you know?… and I don’t know if I’m, like, ready for any of that.” Amanda sighs, rubbing the side of her neck with her hand. “And I feel so guilty because she did kinda save my life. And like, all of Lakeport. And I can tell she’s really into me, and it’s not like I’m not into her.”
The therapist nods along with her. “It’s good that you’ve recognised your own boundaries, and … you’ve communicated your thoughts about this with her?”
Amanda nods, unsure. “Yeah. I told her that I just needed time to sort my own…” she twirls her hand, “stuff out.”
”…Right.”
”I mean we all almost died. I think everyone there just needs to get their bearings all together.”
”That’s true.”
“Yeah, okay good.”
A beat.
The therapist inquires. ”So this Max person… how does she relate to the storm?”
Amanda pauses. How does she relate to the storm? More like how doesn’t she relate to the storm? She shakes her head at the thought. That’s a deep secret that just can’t be indulged with a therapist. She would never do that to any of her friends.
“Um. It’s hard to say. The storm has kind of… fucked up a lot of my senses. I don’t know how many good choices I’ve made. I feel like… a lot has happened.”
She thinks, A lot of my memories don’t even feel like me. The me that rejected Max, and the me that kissed Max feel… not in sync at all.
“A part of me kind of like, fuck it, you know? Like Max is a really good person. I’m trying not to be down with all the crazies she gets up into, but I really like her.”
Amanda sighs, her throat dry from talking. “But it is her… so…”
She shakes her head. “Yeah. Still need more time to think about it.”
Her therapist gives her a little smile. “It’s not a bad idea to show someone that you care about them. Especially with all you two went through. Sounds like you both need each others’ support.”
Amanda laughs, almost bitterly. “Yeah. She is a little bit of a stuck-in-her-own-head kinda person. I’m always falling for that kind of… emotionally unavailable woman.”
She trails off. “…You’re right, maybe I should cut her a bit of slack.”
There’s a weight that Maxine Caulfield holds. Amanda prides herself on being a person-for-the-people so she understands very deeply… that there is a huge weight that Max holds — even before the storm.
In the way she flinches when a student who frequents at the bar — Khloe, her name is, has her name called out by her friends. In the way that she counts her fingers when everyone expects her to talk about where she came from.
Arcadia Bay. The name of the town, fallen, to a storm not unlike the one that invaded Lakeport. A beachside town with a prestigious arts school, with an enriched native history to it. It looked beautiful in the pictures.
Before the storm, Amanda read, There were accounts of strange happenings. Snow, in the middle of summer. Mentions of a double moon, days before the tornado. The discovery of a long line of women, photographed and murdered by a serial killer, dressed as a well reknowned photographer.
….Sometimes when people talk about photography, Max starts to dissociate a little. Particularly mentions of white, sterile photo studios,
”So why do you usually take photos in abandoned places rather than in your typical photography studio?” Amanda asks, wiping a glass dry with a cloth.
Amanda catches the way the brunette flinches, gripping the digital camera in her hands securely.
”Well.” Max starts, tasting the words on her lips carefully, “For one, I don’t typically do portraits. They’re… stuffy. I’d rather a good candid.”
The photographer presses buttons on her camera, refusing to look away. There’s a weight behind the way she stares at the digital camera, almost as if the second she does any other movement, she would break.
But she continues. “…I don’t like to control my subjects. I like capturing things they way they were intended. Capturing a human subject means to control them, to make them do as I want. Just taking photos of models and pretending they’re art…”
Max holds her breath. “…Makes you the biggest hypocrite.”
Amanda found herself holding her breath too. There’s a certain weight behind Max’s words. Something unrecognisable, and loathsome.
”Wow.” Amanda says, unsure. “So I guess you hate all clothing brands then huh.”.
Max bursts into laughter, her previous demeanour completely disappeared. She finally looks up from her character to give Amanda a snarky smile, “Hey, that’s different. They’re showcasing their clothes. That’s still art.”
“Yeah but they still control their subject—“
”To highlight the actual thing they’re promoting. Two totally different things.”
”Sure Max.”
Amanda bends over the counter, wiping the condensation with extreme concentration. You won’t be getting me this time, condensation. I am not about to have any more stains on this counter. She thinks, determined. When she’s finished, she leans back, resting her hands on her left hip, satisfied.
Looking around, there aren’t many customers. At this time of day, most of her regulars are either teaching or being taught, with the rest being elderly or tourists.
Her phone buzzes
[Max: Hey Amanda.]
Amanda raises her brow. Max always texts like she has a stick somewhere up her ass — Who even uses full stops but old people and assholes? She’s lucky I even like her enough to tolerate that.
[Amanda: hey super max, what’s up in the mind of a superhero?]
[Max: Nothing much. Just wanted to ask what you’re doing]
Amanda scrunches her nose.
[Amanda: you know where I am :)]
[Max: Oh Snap. At the Snapping Turtle?]
She couldn’t help but giggle.
[Max: I’m at Caledon right now]
…What is going on. Amanda scrunches her face up, confused.
[Amanda: …I know? There’s always a reason why this bar is empty ]
[Max: Oh]
[Max: Yeah.]
[Max: What are you doing??]
Amanda scoffs out a laugh, baffled. What is this girl going on about?
[Amanda: Is this a bit that i don’t know about?]
[Amanda: because I run comedy but I don’t do obscure comedy]
No response. Amanda stares at her messages for a minute, absolutely confused. She shrugs, putting her phone away and continues to wipe the bar top.
A cold chill runs past her as the front entry swings open. She raises her head to see Max at the door, cheeks flush.
They stare at each other, Amanda with her mouth open in shock, and Max panting.
”…It’s not a bit” Max breathes out eventually, walking closer to the bar.
Amanda immediately composes herself and flashes an amused smile, leaning over the counter a little. “Aren’t you meant to be in class, Professor Caulfield?”
Max bites her lips. “I’m… My class finished.”
Amanda’s eyes flicker toward the clock, noting that it was 5 minutes past 2.
”By finished you mean, like, 5 minutes ago?” Amanda asks, amusedly. “What brings you to the Snapping Turtle 5 minutes after a class that takes 10 minutes to get here?”
Max’s mouth gapes open, a little unsure how to answer the fact she got caught running. Amanda looks down at the photographers’ attire. It looks almost as if Max threw on her jacket and beanie haphazardly with the way they’re barely on her.
The words leave her mouth before she can even stop herself, “You are so adorable.”
“I um.” Max starts, cheeks red, though unclear whether that’s because of the compliment or the fact that she cleared a 10 minute walk in 5 minutes. A shy smile crosses her face, “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”
Fuck, Amanda finds herself thinking. Her face scrunches up because just why does Max have to be the cutest thing ever? The bartender tilts her head, tapping her hand closer toward Max. “So… does teleporting also come with your powers, or did you really run to come see your good friend Amanda?”
Max bites her lip, “Yes Amanda, the storm granted me new powers, and I can teleport but only to the prettiest bartender in Lakeport.”
Amanda raises her brows, “Wow. And you chose me? I’m flattered, Max.”
They both giggle. Max pushes a hair behind her ear, “Sorry, too much? I know you wanted time, I just couldn’t resist.”
“No, no. It’s okay, it was a pretty good one. Maybe we can add that to the pick-up line board?”
Max flashes her another one of those killer smiles. Fuuuuck… Amanda thinks, she bites her lip to stop making another comment about how cute she is.
”Well actually.” Max starts, looking around the bar to make sure no one is listening. “Back in high school with my um… time travelling powers.” The words leave her tongue like she’s not used to talking freely about this kind of thing.
Max closely inspects her own hand, flexing it and unveiling it, staring deep at her palms. ”I could do something similar to… teleporting, I guess.”
Intrigued, Amanda leans back casually. She doesn’t miss the way Max goes quiet and stares when her arms flex through her compact tee.
“Yeah?” Amanda says, “How so, super Max?”
Max proceeds, a little unsure. “Well… when I move from one space to another and reverse time in that new area, it overwrites the timeline, and I stay where I was when I start rewinding…”
She trails off. “For everyone else around me, it’s like I’ve teleported…” She laughs softly, no doubt thinking about the past. “It definitely saved my ass a lot back then…”
“Yeah? Get into a lot of trouble?” Amanda jokes, a teasing smile on her face. “Do some drugs, smoke some weed?”
“Oh ha, ha.” Max says, somewhat deadpan. Her smile widens. “You act like I haven’t smoked or had the occasional blunt before.”
Amanda makes a hum of surprised approval, leaning back slightly with an eye raised.
A playful smile spreads on Max’s lips, and she crosses her arms, “That’s right, I’m a bad girl. I have a hidden dark side where I party all night, do hardcore drugs, and get laid.”
Amanda mimics her by crossing arms, laughing loudly. “Alright, slow down casanova. No one asked you about your clearly active sex life.”
“Hey! I can if I really want to!”
”Oh yes, which is why I see you all the time around the Turtle, no girl or boy in sight.” Amanda remarks, playfully..
”…Just because I can, doesn’t mean that I have been doing it. I’m just…” Max trails off there, her face contorting into what Amanda can only assume is confusion. The photographer does a small motion with her hands, twirling them, opening her mouth to say something but then closing it again.
“…Busy.” Max finally decides on.
Amanada laughs loudly, with her belly. She slaps her hand on the bar counter rhythmically before calming down and resting both hands on her left hips. “Well don’t I know.”
“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?” Max says, furrowing her brows.
”I’m just saying. When we were talking, you did have a lot on your plate.”
The mention of them talking makes Max stumble slightly, surprised. Max raises her hands defensively. “I- I was trying to fix the world, excuse you!”
”It’s okay Max Caulfield, I get it.”
Max crosses her arms, “Now, don’t act like we weren’t about to…”
The photographer stops herself but it’s too late. Her face is flushed, lips pursed, like she crossed a line. Amanda bites her lips, fully aware of the implications. The night of the kiss was dangerous, Amanda was very close to throwing caution to the wind and taking Max to bed.
“….Maybe we should…” Amanda taps her leg with a closed fist lightly, head rushing with adrenaline and anxiety. She needs to know this isn’t some sort of mistake. That Max won’t wake up and regret it. “…sleep on it?”
”…In my bed?” Max responds immediately, almost jokingly, but the way she’s looking at Amanda - pupils dilated, lips parted, panting — fuck, it’s almost impossible to say no to that.
Amanda just wants to just bite the bullet — close the turtle early, hold Max tightly, kiss her again and again until the only thing she can feel is—
Amanda closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head, trying to rid the memory from her mind as soon as possible. That is not a memory she should be thinking of, especially not in front of the girl in question.
”…Sorry.”
The bartender opens her eyes. Max is anxiously fiddling with her fingers, tears threatening to spill through the corners of her eyes. The photographer continues to speak, voice shaking.
“That was too far this time.” Max rambles on,. “I keep fucking up, and I really don’t want to upset you. And even if we can’t be anything more, I really like you and want to be your friend.”
Amanda softens, shoulders relaxing. She reaches out to Max, placing her hand over the brunettes’ hand in an attempt to relax her.
”Hey. We’re both only human - we’ll always make mistakes.” Amanda says softly, rubbing a thumb over Max’s hand. “Besides, I know you know I’m not ready for anything yet. So it was super cool of you to apologise for that.”
Amanda looks down, pursing her lips a little. She hums contemplatively “I guess it has been a while since we’ve talked about this.” She looks between herself and Max, and continues, softer. “About us.”
“Us?” Max repeats, voice a little less shaky.
Amanda nods her head, a gentle smile across her face. “Yeah. Us.”
She shakes her head to regroup herself, closing eyes briefly, “We… Never got to talk about it since, well, after that storm, really.”
Max nods her head cautiously and swallows. “…Yes. You told me that you weren’t really happy about how things turned out with us. And…. that, you needed time to sort out your own business.”
”Mm. At least, the two of us aren’t ready to handle a commitment like that.” Amanda says, affirming her past request for more time. Amanda opens her mouth, licking her lips nervously, “But I also understand, that we all have just gone through some… slightly, traumatic things.”
Max laughs softly, “That’s an understatement.”
Amanda smiles softly, “But friends. We can do friends.”
Max repeats Amanda, tasting the words on her lips like it’s a foreign concept. “Yeah. Friends. I can do that.”
”So…. as one does when they are friends…” Amanda starts, lowering her head. Her eyes scan Max’s face, watching for… something. “….friends should… support each other, and hang. Like we were, you know, gonna hang before.”
Max blinks. “Oh. Yeah! Yeah. Hang. We should totally do that.”
Amanda smiles brightly, “Good. Because… It might not be Revenge Horse, but there’s a festival coming up if you’d like to join me— Doesn’t have to be just the two of us, of course! We can invite like…”
Amanda squints her eyes. “…Moses, or something?”
Max grins playfully, “At a gig? I don’t know if that’s his kind of scene.”
The black haired girl shrugs her shoulders and raises her hands, a similar playful smile across her face. “Hey. I don’t know who else you’re friends with. We never got around to getting to know each other.”
Max giggles, raising her hands up to her face, trying to hide her smile. A warm feeling surges in Amanda, wanting to pull down those hands and see that smile. The bartender clenches her hands tightly, very pointedly refusing to move them. If she moves an inch, she might do it.
“So let’s start over?” Max eventually says, “A clean slate. Just friends and… let’s go to that festival. Just the two of us.”
A moment passes. Amanda relaxes her shoulders, offering Max a comforting smile.
”Sure. Just the two of us.”
”You’re so gay.”
Amanda looks up from her phone, glaring at her sister who is standing across from her.
”Excuse me?” The bartender repeats, crossing her arms. “Ashley, what are you here for.”
Ashley sighs dramatically, leaning against the counter. “Ugh, so I can’t come in and hang out with my big sis anymore? When did you become not fun.”
Amanda sputters, “What— I didn’t say you couldn’t come in! I just asked what you’re here for!”
Ashley sighs again. “Whatever, I know you’d rather talk to your new girlfriend anyway. I’ll just go hang out with Messa.”
The bartender recoils a little in confusion, “What do you mean, girlfriend.”
“You know.” Ashley says, raising her brows amusedly, “That cute white girl.”
Amanda feels her face flush. She crosses her arms indignantly, and huffs. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Really?” Ashley replies teasingly, “But Messa said that she saw you guys kissing—“
”Hey.”
”Okay fine, we know you’re a big fat womaniser, I guess she’s just some girl you hooked up with or something.”
Amanda gives her a deadpan stare.
”I’m just kidding.” Ashley responds, almost sing-songy. “But seriously, you’ve been talking about this girl for weeks. And you still haven’t made a move? That’s like, really, really slow for your standards.”
Amanda sets down a cup into a cupboard.
“It’s… a bit more complicated than you think.” The bartender says, almost contemplatively. She grimaces a little, realising just how cringe and edgy she sounded. “She’s… not the kind of girl I want to, you know, mess around with.”
Not to mention. She could quite literally kill me. Amanda thinks grimly. A girl THAT powerful… Able to manipulate time and space… AND multiple alternative timelines ACTUALLY exist? I don’t even think I’ve properly wrapped my head around that, come to think of it.
“You know you don’t have to sleep with her on the first date, right.”
Amanda pauses, stunned. “Bitch what—“
”Just saying! Just don’t mess around with her!”
”That is totally not—“ Amanda groans, horrified about what her little baby sister just said. “No, Ashley, I did NOT sleep with her.”
Ashley shrugs, raising her hands. “Just saying.”
“Whatever, shoo, go get outta here.”
“...And I hope you enjoy this song.”
The strum of a guitar, and the whole band kicks into action. The guitarist taps a pedal by her feet, following with a kick-ass solo. The energy of the festival is high, and Amanda and Max dance freely at the back of the crowd. Amanda reaches out for Max’s shoulder, bumping the two together in an adrenaline filled hug.
Max follows along, moving her whole body back and forth. She giggles as they do this. She turns her head towards Amanda, gaining her attention. Between the loud music and the crowd’s screaming, she opts to mouth: “They’re really good!”
A wide smile grows on Amanda’s face, and she nods enthusiastically. “Right? They’re kind of the whole reason I brought you here!”
“So cool shakabrah.” Max mouths, giving her a toothy smile.
Within the next twenty minutes, Amanda notices a downward shift in Max - a wince when the guitarist scrapes against her strings, a grimace when someone screams too loudly. Her hands aren’t moving as energetic as before, and her feet shuffle between each other, as if taking the weight off one and the other. So the bartender reaches out for the photographer, pulling her gently towards the shade. Max doesn’t argue, following her in quiet appreciation.
When they reach the shade, Amanda motions for Max to sit down, the photographer following her instructions with no struggle. She pulls out a bottle of water from her bag and hands it to Max, who drinks appreciatively.
“Thanks.” Max says, a weak smile on her face. She murmurs to herself, and Amanda gets the feeling that it wasn’t meant to be said out loud to her. “Was it always this hard to be in a moshpit?”
Amanda sits next to her, leaning her head back, taking in the fresh breeze, and the music in the background. She turns to Max curiously, unable to stop herself from asking, “You used to go to a lot of shows?”
“Oh. Um.” The photographer blinks, not realising she was heard. She stutters, fidgeting with her fingers. She trails off a little, unsure. “Yeah. My…”
She clears her throat. “My, uh, ex. She loved going to all these shows. We used to travel the world and watch all these different shows from different rock bands and…”
The blue-haired girl, Amanda understands very clearly. She heard little things from Moses about the girl. Someone from Max’s past. A punk-rock childhood best friend. Someone that was there with Max for about half of her life until she wasn’t.
“Chloe, right?” Amanda interrupts, without thinking. When the words leave her mouth, she can visibly see Max straighten her back. A wall being put up.
“Hey.” Amanda immediately interjects. “We don’t have to talk about this. Not if you’re uncomfortable.”
Max immediately relaxes, her face softening.
“You’re so kind to me.” She says softly, leaning her body forward to lean into Amanda. She rests her head onto Amanda’s shoulder, dangerously close to the crook of her neck. “You make me really want to do some bad things.”
Amanda blinks, face flushing. But she doesn’t push Max away. Doesn’t think about the fact that Max is quite literally breathing down her neck. Shit. I didn’t wear any deodorant. Do I smell?
“...Yeah?” Amanda says quietly, raising a hand to rest on Max’s back. “Like… doing drugs and smoking weed?”
Max immediately pulls away, punching Amanda’s shoulder playfully.
“Hey!”
“You deserved that one.”
“Not true. You said it yourself. I’m not about to contradict words from Maxine Caulfield herself.”
Max laughs giddily, leaning shoulder to shoulder against Amanda. “You know, I used to go to Blackwell Academy, and it was this private liberal arts school – Actually VERY similar to Caledon with a little less money to its name.”
Blackwell Academy rings a bell in Amanda’s brain, it’s the academy in Max’s hometown, Arcadia Bay, sure, but it rings a bell further than that.
“It wasn’t perfect, and it… I didn’t even finish high school because of…”
The storm. The unsaid words are louder than the music.
“I met a lot of good friends. Friends that… aren’t here today anymore.” Max quietly admits. “Friends that would have been here if…”
The bartender notices that the photographer goes quiet. The heavy weight that Maxine Caulfield holds. Unspoken of, and guilt-ridden. A weight that Max refuses to utter, for fear that makes it real.
Amanda reaches a hand towards Max, resting it over her hand.
“Tell me about your friends from Blackwell?” Amanda whispers.
That breaks Max out of her stupor. It’s the middle of summer, clear skies up above. But a wet drop runs down Amanda’s arm. Amanda refuses to look down, for fear this moment might scare Max back into her barricades.
“Um. So my best friend at Blackwell.” Max starts, throat scratchy. She takes a deep breath “He– His name– It was— …Warren. God, he was this, nerdy science guy who liked all these indie films. I knew he had this crush on me, because he kept asking me to go to this movie drive-in. And he’d always wait near my dorm to meet me.”
She laughs, almost bitterly. “But… He was a really good friend. He got me out of some hard times. I wish I had done more for him.”
Amanda nods, listening intently.
“And there was Kate. Sweet Kate. She’s still around, I just… find it really hard to face her. After everything that went down. After all she lost.” Max murmurs. “She didn’t deserve anything that happened to her. I wish I could just… take away all of her pain.”
Amanda bites her lip, understanding to not ask any questions. Max turns her head, eyes locked on Amanda.
“Is it wrong for me to feel so much… guilt over this? Do I deserve to feel good while all these people are…”
“Of course you do.” Amanda affirms, gently. She reaches a hand up to cup Max’s face. “Oh honey, of course you do. You deserve every bit of happiness.”
“But I–” Max starts, choking up, “I– I could have saved them. It was my decision that–”
“Maxine Caulfield.” Amanda starts, voice stern. “Do not complete that sentence right now.”
Max pauses, sniffling.
“No matter what you say, you are not responsible for all that happened. You are just one person. One person who tried to do the right thing.” Amanda leans her head forward, resting her forehead on Max’s. “And you saved my life. My life, and basically everyone in Lakeport. You are so brave, and you do not give yourself any credit for it.”
The photographer lets out a deep sigh, closing her eyes, relishing in Amanda’s touch.
“You’ve been given the weight of the world at such a young age.” Amanda whispers, pulling Max’s hand up, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “But you’re just one person. I know you have this huge responsibility to save everyone. And you always will. That’s just… the kind of person you are.”
“...Like Spiderman?” Max utters, almost jokingly.
Amanda raises her brows. “Well, I mean, I made a superman joke about that whole situation. You know, like, I’m your Lois Lane, and you’re my superman.”
Max pulls back, scrunching her eyes. “I’m more of a Marvel fan.”
“Well. Your opinion is wrong.”
“How could an opinion be wrong– Marvel is clearly–”
“ANYWAY!” Amanda interrupts, leaning back with a loud laugh, and clapping her hands. “Point is. You’re incredible. You’re super in every way that matters. You help everyone you can. You’ve helped me. Today was meant to be my day to help you this time.”
Max gives her a smile that’s softer, and genuine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So. Quick question. Blackwell Academy. Rings a bell.” Amanda starts, brain going a mile a minute. “There’s this band that I’m super keen on. From what I remember, I think someone in that band went to Blackwell Academy. Reckon you might know who I’m talking about?”
“Um. Any other hints.”
Amanda sucks in a breath and squints her eyes. “She’s this… ex-drummer. From a band called…” The bartender clenches a fist, tapping it on her leg repeatedly, trying to remember the fine details. “Fuck. It was– something like Drugstore Make… out? Last I remember she–”
“Oh shit. No way. You mean Steph?” Max interrupts, “From Drugstore Makeup?”
“Oh it was Drugstore Makeup–”
“Steph, right?”
“Yes. Yes! Her.” Amanda affirms, pointing finger guns at Max. “You know Steph?”
Max bites her lip, stiffening up. “She was a… really good friend of Chloe’s. We used to go to her new bands’ shows. She runs a two band show with her girlfriend, Alex.”
“Oh shit, I knew she was gay.” Amanda exclaims. She opts to ignore the tidbit about Chloe. “I met her once at this house show – My buddies and I love going to indie shows when we can – And I talked to her about her show.”
Max raises her brows, feeling like she knows exactly where this is going.
“We start talking and all, and there’s a little bit of tension.” Amanda says, wagging her brows suggestively. “Only of course, to be eloquently interrupted by her friend throwing up.”
“Oh my god she was totally flirting with you.” Max exclaims, almost in awe.
Amanda leans back, laughing. “She totally was. Too bad nothing happened. She was cute.”
Max mimics her actions, leaning back, a bit of snarky smile on her face. “...Do you think I’m cute?”
Amanda squints her eyes, a smirk across her face. “Are you flirting with me, Max Caulfield?”
“...Maybe. Is it working?”
“Maybe. But you’re also not a rockstar playing sick music and banging on some drums.” Amanda quips back playfully.
“Well damn.” Max says, playfully, leaning her head back in fake frustration. “I only play guitar, I didn’t know I had to play drums too.”
Amanda leans up, suddenly interested. “Hold the phone. You play guitar?”
Max gives a shy smile. “Yes, but barely!”
The bartender nods slowly, a small smile across her face. ”This is news that is… very new to me. I’m very pleasantly surprised. We are almost definitely going to have a jam-out someday.”
“You play music?” Max asks, keen.
“Yeah!” Amanda says. “Wanted to pursue it full-time. I played in a couple bands as a drummer but we never really made it far. You know Lakeport doesn’t have the best scene and I’ve just… always been at the Turtle.”
Max nods, listening intently.
“I never had the best opportunities.” Amanda starts, almost solemnly. “Between comedy and music, there had never been a platform for me to do anything.”
“...Which is why you give artists a platform to show their stuff in the Turtle.” Max interjects, immediately connecting the dots. Why there was so much art around the place, showcasing indie artists with huge promise. Why there was even a stage in such a small space like the Turtle. The graffiti around the walls, the decoration, picked with care. It was all done by Amanda to give smaller creators a platform to show their art to new & repeat audiences.
“...Yeah. That’s exactly it.” Amanda says, impressed. “Misery Cult used to play a lot at the Turtle. I want to say that’s pretty much how they were able to get their stuff out there. I wanted to make a difference for the people that deserve it.”
Max softens, leaning her head on Amanda’s shoulders. “I think you’ve made such a great difference. Not a lot of people can accomplish what you have.”
Amanda laughs softly. “Okay miss Photography award. You know you’re like a celebrity around the area, right?”
Max laughs, pinching her waist. In turn, Amanda tries to get away, with a small squeal.
“Oh, you did not.” Amanda says, hands up and ready for any more attacks.
“Oh, I think I did.” The photographer responds smugly, raising her hands.
Amanda lunges forward, tipping the both of them over. They both squeal and giggle, rolling over. The bartender straddles her, pinning Max’s hands down against the ground. The photographer squirms, trying to get out of her grasp. In a futile attempt, she raises her legs to try and use her knees to tickle her waist, but Amanda secures her body against her legs, making it impossible to move anything.
“Fine you win.” Max says, body going slack.
Amanda laughs. But then pauses. Immediately, awareness of their position settles in. Based off Max’s change in expression and increasingly red face, she knows Max is starting to become aware.
Max has this… weight of the world on her shoulders. Amanda doesn’t know what it is.
And it scares her.
It scares her so much because she doesn’t know if she’ll ever understand that weight. If Max would ever trust her enough to let her in on that weight… Or…
If she can trust herself to even stay if she knows the true weight of Max’s world.
More than just the ability to travel through time, the discovery of alternate universes and what exactly that means scares Amanda. There are so many unanswered questions about the universe, and what Amanda had believed in, and what her own culture has taught her about the world feels so futile with Max.
Max.
Oh, Max.
More than just Max.
She was chosen by the universe, some fucked up universe, to change time. To change reality as it is. Like some sort of God.
…Is it sacrilegious to fall in love with a time God whilst believing in… a completely different thing altogether?
Because of Max, she has two completely different memories. Intertwined, but different. Slightly different actions, slightly different words. Incredibly different experiences and feelings. She was ready for something with Max. And she wasn’t. All with one factor.
Safi’s death.
A million thoughts run through Amanda’s mind. It feels weird to be so willing for something to happen and at the same time, wanting to take it slow. It doesn’t feel real. Which Amanda is real and which Amanda isn’t? Are both Amandas the same? Did one Amanda get erased? Or did they get combined?
“Amanda?” Max whispers, tenderly.
Amanda snaps out of it, looking at Max. Really looking at Max.
Max has the weight of the world behind her. But at this moment… all she can see is… Max.
Just Max.
And she’s beautiful.
Amanda lowers herself down, and Max doesn’t stop her. Their foreheads touch.
“Can I kiss you…?” She asks, softly.
Max responds by parting her lips, and closing her eyes.
Amanda leans down.
“Let’s take this slow.” Amanda says gently.
They’re sitting at Max’s porch, holding each others’ hands tightly. Max doesn’t say anything, only nods her head in agreement.
“I’m still… navigating whatever is going on in my head but…” The bartender continues. “I really like you. I don’t want to rush us.”
Max nods her head. “I really like you too. I want to see where we can go.”
“Good. So. Slow?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”