Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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❝Always carrying a camera with me gave me a sense of power; capturing reality, any way I wanted, for eternity. It was like some kind of superpower... Sometimes I wish I could literally relive a moment just by looking at a photo, but I can only taste the past. And now it's the only thing I have left of what I thought was true in my life, along with a bitter taste.❞

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❝No! You don't understand. You'll never understand how much it hurt me to see you leave! No matter how much we talked. And now I find out the truth, and you still insist on pretending you didn't know anything?!❞

❝Know what?! I'm not lying, Chloe... I never lied to you. You don't know how much it hurt me too! And it hurts even more with you accusing me of something I have no idea about. And you're the one lying... Lying about not feeling anything when I went back...❞

❝What are you talking about...? I-I'm with Rachel! I love her! Y-you... are nothing but a thing of the past...❞

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❝Okay... Hmmm... Do you like photography and pirates? Maybe an elf warrior and...❞

❝A fourteenth-level changeling warlock rogue named Zahira Edda, with proficiencies in diplomacy, stealth, perception, performance, and more. Her patron is Xanathar and her most commonly used spell is Hallucinogenic Terrain.❞

❝Wow... You actually play DnD! I thought you were a poser... I like you, MadMax.❞

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❝So you're the girl that insufferable Amber doesn't like? You know... I love going against everything she likes or dislikes...❞

❝Vic-Victoria...? Hmmm... W-why are you getting so close...?❞

❝You actually have a bit of charm, Caulfield...❞

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

❝It's a God-awful small affair

To the girl with the mousy hair

But her mummy is yelling, 'no'

And her daddy has told her to go

But her friend is nowhere to be seen

Now she walks through her sunken dream

To the seat with the clearest view❞

_David Bowie, Life on Mars?

Chapter Text

Max was hunched over her desk, a pencil between her teeth - a little habit she had developed - while her sticky, dirty hands oiled the inside of a "Rolleiflex Twin lens reflex" camera, model automat, which she had bargained for at a thrift store two blocks from her house.

The Caulfield generally hated automatics cameras: for her, fully manual ones give her artistic freedom and a sense of power that automatics never can. But since this model was used — not literally, of course — by Vivian Maier, she didn't mind spending your remaining allowance money.

Thinking about the famous photographer, a knot formed in her stomach. Would she follow the same path as Maier? Like Van Gogh, die anonymously only to become a star after death?

Or worse... die and remain a "nobody"? Not that she wanted fame, but recognition was something every artist desires.

She wouldn't have her parents forever, who would support her particularly expensive "hobby." She knew that the art market was extremely competitive and that in the world, everyone would do anything for fame and recognition, including stepping on others.

In a scenario like this, Maxine definitely wouldn't survive for long.

Trying to push these thoughts away, she focused on her camera. It hadn't been that expensive, considering its condition, with many signs of use, rust, and some fungus on the lens and viewfinder. But it was enough to keep the young woman awake for a week, her thoughts consumed only by her new addition.

Max didn't trust others to take care of her cameras, so she did it herself, even if it ended up being more expensive than a normal repair or completely messing up her room, clothes, and even her own face and hair with oil.

Every now and then, her eyes would wander to her bedroom window, hoping the sun wouldn't set before she finished her action and could finally take pictures with her other analog camera, with infrared film and a lens specifically for that type of photography.

To improve, it was autumn, not only her favorite season but also a crucial piece of the portfolio she was building, as her parents had announced they would try to get a scholarship to Blackwell for your daughter. Max not only found herself eager to return to Arcadia Bay, but she was also extremely anxious to see Chloe again and hug her.

Normally, the now-eighteen-year-old adult didn't appreciate much physical contact, but coming from Price, she would accept as many crushing hugs as her friend wanted to give.

It was silly to be nervous about this. It was Chloe! Her childhood best friend, with whom they've remained in touch to this day, and nothing has changed... Right?

She sighed again, setting the Rolleiflex down on a designated corner of her desk, wiping her hands with a cloth, and going to the bathroom to wash her face and her oily hair. The afternoon was almost over, and there was no way Max was going to miss the "golden hour."

She said goodbye to her parents, knowing they were both going out to dinner and that when she returned, they would no longer be home, and so she headed toward the strategic points she had mapped out in her mind when she returned from her photography class every Thursday and Friday.

Walking now along the sidewalks of Leavenworth, she carried her ear muffs, which were tucked into her ears, her crossbody bag carrying her Polaroid SLR 680, three modified films she'd found online — since the brand doesn't sell infrared film — a filter for the lens she'd modified herself, melon gum, anti-stress toys, and her sunflower lanyard, indicating her autism. Finally, her cell phone, with two emergency contacts: her mother and... Chloe.

Yes, it was stupid. Not only did she have two emergency contacts, but one of them was Chloe, who lived in another state and obviously couldn't help her with anything.

But Max wasn't to blame for feeling safer with Price, by her parents' side for any mishap.

Being diagnosed with autism never came as a surprise to the girl, as she'd always been aware of her differences from many others since she was little. She wasn't the only one to notice this; Chloe noticed it too, and at every opportunity, she defended and protected Max from anything and anyone that posed a danger.

It wasn't that she needed help defending herself, but Price had this instinct within her — one of the reasons Max trusted her blindly — that made her extremely protective.

However, the signs became increasingly obvious, and unfortunately, difficulties came along with them. Everything worsened with the move to Leavenworth, Seattle: the different climate, the disruption to her years-long routine, the strange faces, the failed attempts to fit in that came with extreme difficulty in achieving a simple conversation. Add to this the intense longing she felt for Chloe, which opened a huge hole in her heart — even though they communicated daily.

Her parents, who had suspected this since Max was a child, not only because of these signs but also because of her hyperfocus on photography — adding to the little difficulty understanding emotions, speech delay, avoidance of eye contact, and more — took her to psychologists, psychiatrists, and neurologists.

After countless sessions, lasting months and then almost two years, Max received her diagnosis.

Caulfield smiled broadly as she watched the beginning of the sunset; it didn't take long for her to open her folding Polaroid, attach the filter to the lens, and then the film. With her keen and sensitive eye, she did indeed have some difficulty getting her photos, but she eventually managed to capture landscapes, portraits of people and animals engaging in peculiar activities, "trash" that formed something artistic, and a bit of still life.

Who said it was easy for photographers to find the materials for their precious photos?

The infrared filter, combined with the lens filter, highlighted the orange, faded other colors, and gave an orange hue to many, even transforming them.

And in autumn, this fit perfectly! As mentioned before, this was the theme of her portfolio, which, combined with her passion for this season, made these photos not only material for this work, but to keep for a lifetime.

So she returned home smiling, with a sense of a duty fulfilled, feeling the light breeze on her body, the scent of the leaves, and the mist that occasionally hovered over some parts of her Leavenworth neighborhood, reminding her of some mornings in Arcadia Bay.

(🌀)

As soon as he returned home, he quickly ran to his cocoon of a room. As soon as he entered, he smiled at his pet cockatiel — a gift from Chloe when Max turned twelve, as the girl had always commented on her desire to raise one— where he crouched down in front of its large cage and took it out.

"Here... You were sleeping while I worked on the camera, and then when I left, it's only fair that you have your moment of freedom now..."

Thus, Captain Nemo took a short flight before landing on the floor and exploring Max's room for the millionth time. He was named after the famous character from "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," and although he wasn't a pirate in the book, everyone mistook him for one. Adding to this the fact that she, along with Chloe, had always loved pirates, and Caulfield's appreciation for Jules Verne, the bird was named after him.

While Captain Nemo hummed "Teenagers of Mars" by "Misfits" — thanks to Chloe —, Max threw herself on her bed while taking out her bag and from it, she took out her cell phone, where she began to type.

Hi, Chloe! You should see the photos I took... They're amazing! ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

                                                           10/19/2013 6:09 PM

I know you hate emoji, but I'm so happy!!! ;⁠)

                                                          10/19/2013 6:09 PM

I'll send you the photos via chat on my computer.

                                                          10/19/2013 6:11 PM

I'm going to dinner, I'll text you more later!

                                                          10/19/2013 6:13 PM

And as she said, she went towards the dining room, but she was eager to see her friend's responses. Although her parents weren't home to scold her if she decided to use her phone while she should have been concentrating on dinner, so Max could do it, the girl didn't have that habit — but anyway, she took advantage of her parents' absence to eat junk food instead of decent food. As soon as she finished, she washed her plate and cutlery, internally thanking her mother for the plastic gloves she bought her, as she hated the disgusting feeling of food scraps on her fingers.

Chloe? 

                                                          10/19/2013 8:17 PM

Earth Called Chloe Elizabeth Price O⁠_⁠o

                                                          10/19/2013 8:18 PM

Hey?

                                                         19/10/2013 8:18 PM

Max brushed away a stray, still-damp strand of hair that was falling into her eye as she lay in bed, chatting with Chloe after a hot shower.

Okay, you must be busy. We'll talk later!

                                                          10/19/2013 8:20 PM

And so, she continued her daily routine: she fed Captain Nemo, checked her cameras for dirt so she could clean them, watched one "Cozy Fantasy" movie, and then slept. The next day, she entered her automatic state while at school — the place she hated most. She was only three months away from graduation, where she had already decided she definitely wouldn't attend. The hours passed slowly for Caulfield, but she was rewarded later when she found a deer on the dirt road she used to walk home.

She had always felt a strong connection with this animal; Besides finding him extremely beautiful and with a pure aura, with a touch of mystery in his large, mesmerizing eyes. And as usual, it didn't take long to capture this creature in a photo, for eternity.

Hey! I'm back from school. Did I tell you that place is horrible? It's so noisy... But on the way home, I found a deer on the trail! I'd never seen one, not even in Arcadia Bay! I couldn't resist taking a picture.

                                                           10/20/2013 1:20 PM

Chloe? Still no answers? I'm getting worried...

                                                          10/20/2013 1:20 PM

Seriously, answer me...

                                                           10/20/2013 1:21 PM

Okay. I'll wait...

                                                          10/20/2013 1:21 PM

Pirate Chloe?

                                                         10/20/2013 3:09 PM

???? 

                                                        10/20/2013. 6:19 PM

She gave up once again, heading to her desk after feeding Captain Nemo and putting him back in his cage to clean her Rolleiflex again. Completely engrossed in her camera, she didn't notice the hours passing, only to be awakened by the expected message notification from Price. Wasting no time, and not worrying about getting camera oil on her phone, she picked it up only to find a single, short, and to the point message.

 LIAR

                              From: Chloe ❥ 10/20/2013 11:45 PM

Her eyes widened so much that anyone entering her room at that moment would have thought Max was glassy-eyed in the face of some catastrophe like the one we suddenly received the news of, and we found it hard to believe.

After a few seconds, her eyes flickered, the burning sensation in her corneas causing the young woman, whose hands had instinctively begun to tremble, to snap out of her trance. Her breath hitched, along with a tight feeling in her chest.

But there was hope... Right?

Chloe had to be joking! Yes, that's it!

Just a prank...

She tried to type a word — even though none would form in her once calm, now extremely turbulent, brain —with her trembling fingers, only to realize she had been blocked.

It wasn't a prank.

And Max knew this not because her number had been blocked, but because she knew Chloe would never prank her like that, knowing perfectly well how Max would react.

She began pacing, running her sticky fingers through her hair, oblivious. Closing her eyes, Max tried to control her ragged breathing, cursing herself for the situation she found herself in. Not only because of the circumstances, but because of the way she was reacting to it all.

But... What could she do? Max only had her parents, her Cockatiel, and Chloe...

And the blue-haired girl had always been, from the time Max could remember until today, someone very important to her. And the thought of losing her was unbearable.

To make matters worse, the oily sensation in her hair and fingers began to bother her. If she hadn't cared before, working with her hyperfocus on the cameras and later because of the anxiety that gripped her over Chloe's message, now she was feeling it. And it was definitely the last thing Max needed at the moment.

(🌀)

After hours of trying to communicate with Chloe through other means — chats from the same video games they played together, secondary apps they used to communicate, Face Time, and other means — nothing worked.

However, Max didn't give up, and so she spent the next few days continuing to press for minimal contact, but received no response. Ultimately, she found herself in a melancholic, lonely, and somewhat intoxicated state, faced with the situation she found herself in.

Why? Why? That was all Max could think about at the moment. What had she done wrong? She tried to remember details lost in their video calls, spending practically entire nights reviewing the messages they'd exchanged for years, and nothing.

She wasn't just confused, but frustrated. A mix of feelings were racing through her head. Anger at the way Chloe had merely insulted and blocked her, jealousy at the thought of Rachel, betrayal, sadness, and helplessness.

All because of Chloe.

A pirate she left when she was thirteen and could never get out of her mind. The games they played, the time they spent together chatting or planning pranks, the alter egos they drew in their comics, the walks on the beach at Arcadia Bay, the visits to the lighthouse... Everything.

Chloe was the kind of person you couldn't forget; that Max wouldn't be able to forget.

Not just because she was part of her childhood... But because she was her first love.

The first signs of these feelings were confusing: butterflies in her stomach when they touched each other, the realization of how beautiful Chloe was, the growing desire each day to spend more and more time with Price, even though they both always did, and the need for reassurance that Chloe would never leave her, made her epiphany about what was happening with Caulfield somewhat belated, and for her, it made her feel extremely stupid for having realized it after her move.

What if she had told her sooner?

Would they be together, even from a distance? Wouldn't she have fallen in love with that big idiot Rachel Amber — Max felt guilty for harboring a certain dislike for the girl, but she couldn't control her instincts — and consequently started dating her?

Would Chloe have called her a liar and ignored her?

And most importantly: was it truly mutual and not just Price's act, so as not to lose her friendship with Max?

So many questions, without answers she would probably never have.

She continued to lie curled up in her bed, only getting up to put "Blade Runner" — the director's cut, obvious — on her DVD player, and then returned to the same position. Max was definitely a replicant in a world full of humans, and Chloe... Chloe was the electric sheep she couldn't have.