{ out of the pan, into the fire ;; }
–Max almost feels bad for him. She adores Warren, she really does, and he makes her laugh. He was one of the first – and only – friends she made coming back to Arcadia Bay, and she wouldn’t trade him for a Nikon D750, but she’s just…not into him. He’s talking and she’s listening, but her eyes keep drifting to the ground and her thoughts are not even close to being completely aligned with whatever’s crossing his lips about the flash drive she’d just handed him. She’s just glad he appreciates it, since it had been a fucking pain in the ass to retrieve.
Her responses are half-hearted and lacking any genuine humor, though really, Cannibal Holocaust is a difficult topic to laugh at. Instead, she can barely stop herself from having a complete meltdown over the day’s insane events while speaking with him. She watched a girl d i e, and then rewound time to save her, then did it again to prank Miss Rich Bitch big time, and then again to step between poor Kate and that security officer who had it out for her. Even as she assures Warren that she did, in fact, watch Faster Pussycat Kill! Kill!, her head swims from the use of her…power? Actually, Max can’t tell if that’s just from the shock.
Warren notices.
“Y’know, we could cruise down to the drive-thru in my new ride…but you seem kind of distracted…” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he leans against the hood of his car, and Max just feels worse. Would it really hurt anything to confide in him? He’s easily one of the most intelligent people she knows, and if anyone had a clue what the hell was going on with her today, it would be Mr. Spock himself.
She lets out a sigh, and moves to stand right beside him, arms crossed over her chest uncomfortably. “Today…has just been a really fucking weird day, Warren…”
She’s interrupted before she can even really begin by a boy her age in a reddish-brown jacket that’s already been burned into her memory, certainly for the rest of her life. He’s the one that helps Victoria make her life hell, who she saw in the bathroom today with a gun that he used to kill someone with, and he’s standing right in front of her looking pissed beyond belief.
“Max Caulfield?”
Her heart drops straight into her stomach. Fucking shit.
To say Chloe was shaken up would be an understatement --- she had just a fuckin’ gun pointed at her. Sure the blue-haired girl had acted it off as if it was nothing --- after the alarm had went off, but inside she was terrified, who wouldn't be. One shot and she would have been dead, and honestly it was something she probably could have seen him doing.
Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to meet up with the crazed teen boy, but she had been --- she still was desperate for cash. And he had just been a quick score, she wanted revenge --- hells sake he had drugged her and would have done --- well she didn't even want to think about what would have happened if she hadn't managed to get out of there. The way Chloe saw it; he still owed her.
With a sigh, Chloe dropped some posters into the box in the back of her truck, gaze not daring to linger on the picture of the missing girl --- the picture of Rachel Amber. Instead she goes to the front of her trucks and gets inside, she could come back another time, put up more posters, and work on a better plan to screw over Prescott, bring her own gun this time. He wouldn't stand a chance. Not even thinking twice on if she would actually use a gun against him, the female demands to herself that she would, that at the time it could easily be her against him, possibly a matter of life and death.
---- and that’s when she see’s him. Nathan fucking Prescott, the idiot who had holding up far to many of her thought’s lately, and here he was walking into the car park as if he owned the place; which he technically did, but still... asshole.
Knuckles turned white as she gripped against the steering wheel, her eyes never once leaving the male as she sent daggers as he walked. Forcing herself to drag her eyes away as the boy approached a couple, she instead started up her truck, maybe she could go to the trash yard before heading home? The longer time she spend away from her home -- from the step douche -- the better.
But just as she was ready to drive away the scene once again caught her eye. Oh hella no, that jackass was not getting away with harassing anyone else.
Pulling out of the spots she can taken up -- yes three of them -- the girl headed straight for the three, hitting on the breaks just before she hit the girl, nothing else on her mind right now other than getting Nathan away from the two and getting herself out of here.
