Name: Maximillion Moon
Nicknames: Maxie (most commonly known as).
Birthday: January 31, 1991
Pronouns: He/him.
Gender/Sex: Cisgender/male.
Sexuality: Bisexual (closeted, though not out of fear, just privacy).
Occupation: Owner of Well Played Board Game Cafe, former child star.
Neighborhood: Aurora Bay Drive.
P E R S O N A L I T Y —
+ Patient, Hardworking. - Naive, Incurious.
Maxie is... honestly, a pretty boring guy. He's incredibly down-to-earth and finds most of his pleasures in daily routine. Not a big drinker, though he's always down for a few brewskis with the cuz', and most of his time is spent running Well Played, exploring the outdoors, or vegging out at his house. Despite his flashy teen years, this man is just... a man. He's incredibly picky about who he gets close to, however. Not out of a lack of desire to make friends, but out of a desire not to make bad friends - nosey friends - friends who only want access to the Maxie Moon that used to be famous.
A R R I V A L — ( 2013)
Set up shop after spending almost two years back in Wisconsin with his folks (and mostly hating it). He and his cousin both live in the same Aurora Bay Drive cul-de-sac, though in different houses.
E X T R A B I T S —
- Has a pet chinchilla named Priscilla that he brings literally everywhere. At Well Played he keeps a cage for her in the office so she's contained, and when he drives he keeps her in a little portable cage that he straps into the passenger seat. Getting a coffee? Priscilla's there, chilling in his hoodie pocket. Getting his brakes fixed? You already know he's walking around the parking lot with her perched on his shoulder. She's six years old and if she ever passes, he'll be devastated.
- Technically homeschooled between third and twelfth grade, taking private tutor classes with 7-8 other LA kids. He doesn't believe it's had any effect on his social skills, but his friends would say otherwise.
- Pretty good at hockey. He always visited home around the holidays which meant snowsnowsnow and skating out on the pond near his house. He visits the ice rink in town often enough, but it's not the same, and he looks forward to flying home each year so he can play backyard pond hockey with his neighbors.
- Does not know how to cook and does not desire to learn. His fridge is always stocked with snacks and various jars of finger foods, and all of his meals come from his personal chef or whatever scraps he throws together from work.
F R E Q U E N T S T O P S —
Aurora Bay College - Maxie is in his second year studying business at ABC. He's taking a couple of music classes as well, and criminology just for fun. He doesn't spend more time than he has to on campus, but he sometimes holes up in the library if it feels quiet enough.
Cooldown Ice Rink - As a big hockey fan, it's Maxie's duty to get his weekly ice time in. He's a bit of an early bird, though, so catch him at opening on Sundays and Wednesdays.
Four Leaf Pub - Maxie's a huge beer guy, and he can often be spotted in a corner booth with his cousin sharing a plate of Irish soda bread and filling the table with empty glasses.
Oasis Night Club - He might not be the going out type, but when Mikey can successfully wrangle him out of the house, this is usually their spot.
Well Played Game Cafe - He spends a pretty big portion of his life in this damn cafe. Mostly in his office, hidden away from the crowd, but he's always happy to hop on bar with the staff or help out a customer when they're shorthanded.
C O N N E C T I O N S —
tba
B A C K G R O U N D —
tw: n/a
maxie was born in wisconsin to wisconsian parents - the kind who preferred the rural stretches twenty minutes out from west bend (an already small town) to the 'bustling' of a city. winters were hard but their house was warm, though maxie only had seven of them under his belt before his whole life was stirred up and redistributed.
ruthie moon, maxie's aunt, lived a life of glamour across the country in california. an art dealer and film critic - a life far different than her sister's, though they grew up in the same home. a single mother to a son just about the same age, ruthie encouraged dream-following to her child, taking him to auditions and letting him try any and all of the hobbies he desired. one of these auditions landed him in a casting room that held great potential, and with ruthie's help, he scored an audition for a show that was slated to have big potential. when asked if ruthie knew of any other charismatic kids who might fit the bill, she knew just who to ask.
disguised as a nothing-special trip to LA - he has to see the sun eventually, eh margie? - for spring break, maxie packed up his bags to go visit his elusive auntie and cousin mikey. of course, he fell in love. the weather, the people, the griffith observatory... LA was big and scary and new yet maxie fit right in like he'd been there his whole life. a playful and magnetic young kid, maxie was easily convinced to try out for the show.
and then... magic. maxie and mikey moon secured their spots on season 2 of Zoom - a kids show airing on pbs that gained traction quickly. mikey and maxie did a special science segment in most episodes, and the showrunners called them the moon brothers despite being cousins.
of course, getting cast in a tv show meant that maxie couldnt live in wisconsin, at least not during filming. after some serious arguments between sisters (understandable), maxie moved in with his aunt and cousin during the months of filming, then went back to stay with his parents during off-season.
and so it went. zoom time meant LA - bright, shining LA, with mysterious foods and exciting stores and maxie's first taste of disneyland. eventually his career grew; after three years on zoom, he landed an audition at nickelodeon, which sprung him directly into the realm of young teen shows: at ten, he starred as the younger brother of a sweet-but-troubled teen girl a la zoey 101. when he was fourteen, he moved up to leading co-star status of an icarly-esque show that took place in space: star hoppers. he did movies reminiscent of spy kids and max keeble's big move, and got slimed at the kid's choice awards after making a joke that he was going to be a maximillionaire.
as maxie's career ramped up, his trips home came less and less. of course he always came home for christmas and mother's day (when he could swing it), and though margie and gene hated LA, they tried to visit when they could, too.
mikey, a year older, followed a similar though slightly less successful path, eventually deciding the limelight wasn't for him anyway and choosing to pursue a career in sports broadcasting instead. maxie? finished out his acting by twenty after deciding he'd had more than enough fame for his whole life.
honestly, he's more than grateful for the career he had, and feels like he won the lottery, or got away with a heist. maxie never got into partying like some of his co-stars, or gambling, or the hollywood cult; he made his money and got out. yeah, he still has to deal with occasional paps, though they've mostly gone away, and he has his share of insane stalkers (most of which are people older than him, which is concerning in a dark way), but maxie's more than happy to have disappeared into normality.
wisconsin was never his state, so while he tried going back for a few years, the close-knit, claustrophobic west bend wasn't big enough. he couldn't truly fade away when his first grade tablemate was stalking him at the grocery store and asking if they were close enough for maxie to get him jennette mccurdy's number. LA was too much, west bend too little, so with ruthie's help, maxie found a place called aurora bay where he's been for almost 12 years.
six years into his stay (and trying to find a way to keep his money going in a way that wouldn't require that much work), maxie opened Well Played. inspired by a game cafe that aunt ruthie used to bring him and mikey to, maxie put a small chunk of his savings into it and spent all his time working with a trusted designer to bring his vision to light. it's not the most glamorous work, and there have been more than a few mishaps - including the Great Kitchen Fire of 2022 - but it's become the thing he's most proud of in his life. his business partner? well, mikey moon of course.
open starter ( @aurorabaystarter )
-> cooldown ice rink
"Excuse me, hey."
There's a certain grace to flagging someone down on an ice rink - a purposeful caution that one must maintain when skating up behind an unsuspecting patron with rather large blades attached to their feet. Maxie manages just fine - he's always been good on the ice, and his naturally soft tone does well for him in a situation like... Well, like this one.
"Sorry to chase you like that. I wanted to let you know that, uh, that last fall you took?" Maxie drops his voice a little, kind eyes bearing no hint of humor despite how desperately funny this would be to someone with less maturity. "I think it ripped your pants. I can't tell for certain, I didn't want to stare, but... I'm 97% sure."
🧼 Cleancore: Do they prefer things messy or clean? Are they considered a neat-freak or a slob by others? If so, how do they feel about that?
"I do alright cleaning up. I won't pretend like I don't hire someone to come by every other week and top me up - Rhonda is the best - but I can do laundry and do dishes and mop the entryway. I'll rake the leaves. Please, please don't ask me to mow the lawn. Or vacuum."
all i’ve ever known - do relationships change your muse? could they, if your muse loved their partner enough?
"Sure. Everyone I have ever gotten close with has left their mark on me somehow, regardless of if we were dating. I don't know if you can really... change people, though. What people want - what I want - it fluctuates, but those deep-seated desires don't ever change, not completely. I think if you change while you're with someone else, it's either temporary, or something that existed the whole time, but you were too lazy to keep it up."
Fletcher winces at the trip-over of her and my, slowing his pace without realizing he’s doing it. They’re said like they’re a booby-trap of some sort, and his wince shifts to a more empathetic smile, and a softened gaze.
"You’re not ruining anything," he assures. "Not a thing, right?"
Fletcher looks around to the bustling Christmas market, then glances back at Maxie with a brighter grin now. "If this trip was hanging by a thread, I swear it was me wasting twenty dollars on a fish ornament, everything’s alright."
Though he can often fumble when it comes to the unannounced heavier topics, he takes his time because he’s learned time and time again, plowing through things headfirst, whether in action or by word, can make it worse. That’s not what he wants when Maxie already looks so defeated.
"That’s rough, though," he adds, not daring to throw out an apology. Fletcher finds that acknowledging the true suckiness of it won’t box it up to shelve it for a later that never comes. "I get it though. Why it’s hard, it’s still so fresh. But really, don’t worry about it. You don’t owe it to me to save face."
Or to add merriness to the trip, by pasting on a fake grin and pushing through it.
"We can just wander, or bail. Or I can just buy something worse, so you can focus on my idiocy and poor financial decisions."
Maxie and Nora’s break wasn’t a clean one, Fletcher won’t diminish how he feels about it either, so he adds onto the rest as an offer, "You can talk about it if you need, but you also don’t have to if you’re feeling any sort of way. Just know you don’t have to hold it together on my account."
As much as Maxie does truly believe that Fletcher means what he's saying, it's hard to let himself accept that. While he's always had the resources for emotional support, failed relationships never stop feeling embarrassing, even with close friends. He smiles - a weak one, but a smile nonetheless.
"Thanks, man. Honestly, I think buying the fish ornament is a highlight. At least you've got the story. But the next weird thing is on me. I can't have you being the only one recklessly spending money. It's Christmas after all."
Shaking it off, Maxie turns to tread through the fake snow and the townspeople that wander around in it. He's almost ready to push through the mess of emotions that mentioning Nora had conjured when Fletcher prods once again, and any walls he'd managed to shakily build come tumbling back down.
"I... Yeah, thank you, Fletch. I don't know if there's anything left to say." There's a heavy sigh in his chest that aches to come out, but Maxie keeps it bundled in. "At this point I'm mostly just embarrassed. I don't really know whether I believe in soul mates or true love, and if I did I'm not sure that Nora would've been mine, even at the height of what we had going."
He glances at Fletcher then, a sorry, sad-sop smile pulling at his lips. "She made me want to believe, though. I feel like that's worse."
Jo's pride can't help but take a minute hit as Maxie struggled to come up with simply just her name. Granted, all the times they hung out, alcohol was involved, which usually triggered a lack in storing memory. Jo would know. So she tried not to take it too personally. "Jo. Jo Cooper. Feel free to come up with a nickname, if that makes it any easier for you. I'm not easily offended. At least you remembered I'm good at the shots. I take pride in that."
His reasoning for coming out was much lighter than hers. It was a way to take her mind off of all the usual negative reminders people received during the holidays such as lack of family, or rather loss of.
"Too bad we'd only get a wet winter. We'd have to be a little farther east for anything white. Although, Big Bear has some great snowboarding, or so I've been told. I've yet to travel farther than A.B. since being in California. Where I'm from in Arizona, it'd still be in the seventies in December. It's a tough world there for us folk who like a good winter vibe."
"So, you've done the gardens. Since you're such a Christmas sucker, what else are you doing? Are you more chill, or do you go just fucking nuts every year and try to do every winter activity you can? I know I did the Mix and Mingle, then I'm going to Skylark for New Year's. But I like parties, so it's more of a 'going out vibe' that I do."
"Jo Cooper," he repeats, a faint and honest flush freckling his cheeks. "Trust me, this is embarrassing enough that I'll remember it until I die. Thanks for understanding."
Maxie nods along; he's always been unimpressed by Californian winters, and he's happy to have someone else to complain about it with. "I haven't been anywhere upstate. Most of my life was in Los Angeles proper, and that was enough for me. Kind of shocked you manage to be a winter lover from Arizona, though; how does that work out? Did you come from somewhere colder?"
Jo's ownership of her partygirl vibe makes Maxie smile. The honesty is always welcomed; he can't help but enjoy a person who knows exactly who she is. That thought coats the impulse to reminisce on why exactly he's so eager to flee Aurora Bay this year - and why he'd skipped the Mix N' Mingle. "Sort of. I'll do as much as I can before I head back out to Wisconsin. It's tradition for me to go home for Christmas, but even if it wasn't, I'd go out there just to remember what snow looks like. I'm bummed that I'm missing the Skylark party, though, that seems like it's going to be a great night to throw-up in a nice suit. You have to let me know how it goes - if you remember anything that happens, that is."
Maxie looks around briefly, then motions towards the rest of the gardens. "If you're not here with anyone... Feel like walk-and-talking? I feel bad hogging the view of the Whovillage here. No pressure, though."
"Hey," Nora said again, straightening and clearing her throat.
What the fuck had she been thinking? She could've shipped this or gotten an Uber courier or, fuck it, even gotten on her knees and begged Aiden to drop it off for her. The humiliation of that would've been nothing compared to this.
Nora was no stranger to being caught red handed, but the guilt overriding her instinct to run — that was definitely new.
She fought to keep her expression neutral even as her brain unhelpfully overlayed her last memory of Maxie over her current view. Him, dwarfed by an empty Uhaul truck, an extra set of keys she'd given back dangling limply from his fingers.
"No, uh, it was no trouble," she said, speaking over him. And then an intrusive thought made it past her mental barriers and out of her mouth, "Actually—"
Don't say it, Nora. Just don't say it. Just leave.
"There's a scarf in there that I...kinda need. The one I share with Cricket. I think it's here. Do you mind if I...?"
This is awful. Rotting on his couch like a sack of shit ten minutes ago might've been better than standing here staring at Nora, a year of history thickening the silence between them. Maxie isn't a talkative guy, but she pulled it out of him like no one except the camera ever could; yet here he is, rendered speechless again. A hiccup in his heartbeat catches his breath in his throat as he waits for whatever it is she's going to say... Sorry, maybe? Can we be friends?
No. Nora needs her scarf. Right.
Maxie feels a pulse of blood through his fingers and they twitch, his whole body freezing at the idea of Nora in his home again. A guest, the way she's always technically been. He looks over his shoulder like his mere gaze would erase the mess he's let his house become in his heartbreak.
Whatever, right? She'd already left him; her opinion on him shouldn't matter anymore.
(And yet it does, it does, it does.)
"Okay," he says, unable or unwilling to get much more out. He stands there another second before backing up, opening the door a little wider. He doesn't even ask for her to take her shoes off, a nag he'd never been able to shake after his mother embedded it into him.
Maxie tries for a joke, then, hoping it might levy some of the unbearable tension her presence had wrought.
Jack - What is the rudest thing your muse has ever done?
"I went through a period between fame and namelessness where I had to detach from my former life in any way possible. I'd get professional calls and I'd answer them just to hang up on them. I would pretend that I'd forgotten who executives were... Oh, man, and I'm not the best at it, but I did a lot of stupid stuff to avoid paparazzi. Wearing the same thing over and over, running as fast as I can in the opposite direction... I threw a few coffees, but I started to feel bad about that one after awhile."
Seven - How does your muse react to having promises broken?
"I like to think that I'm a patient guy. I can handle mistakes, I know nobody's perfect, and I've made plenty of my own - some of which were televised. But I think... When it's one person, over and over again, and I'm constantly finding myself in this spot of forcing myself to be the bigger person? Yeah, I blow up. Usually on them, but sometimes I self-implode. It depends on how much the promise meant to me."
Two - How often do things go well for your muse in their relationships?
"I don't have a lot of issues in the grand scheme of things because I don't usually expand my horizons anymore. When I was younger, my whole life was keeping appearances. It takes too much out of me these days. Keep your circle small, and all that. My life is pretty quiet, so, yeah. Things go well, I guess."
Hmm. Fletcher squints. It does kinda look like a fish.
"Yeah, absolutely. My indecision was killing them, they needed me to stop crowding the shelves."
It's what makes the most sense, why else would they trick him into paying almost twenty dollars for something that definitely, now that it's pointed out, looks like a goddamn fish. Maxie spins it in a positive light, and Fletch can't be too bothered by the absurd impulse buy.
He frowns when he regards Maxie at the unmention of Nora, who he knows is the person in his mind at the end of that unfinished sentence. He's known enough with how his attendance at Salty Siren has boosted since October. Pleasant surprise for Fletch, but at Maxie's expense.
"Oh, right. Yeah, I'm sorry, I should've thought about that." Fletch doesn't think too much about the sad sack bit, or how it would dampen anyone's mood, but that might be because his efforts would be to try and cheer Maxie up. "I figure talking to people who want to meet people with maybe no seriousness to it, it could be light and fun. No strings attached, and maybe, if finding someone to want to get to know a little better isn't the goal, you might make another friend or so?"
It's his only, feeble attempt to make it seem less heavy with expectations, "But I can just report back about my experience. Or not, if that's not preferred." Between him, Leo and Fletch, Reggie needs to remain the last one standing unbrokenhearted by the end of this year.
There might be nothing to report, really, even if there's a small part of Fletcher that's excited about the idea of it.
"So, you haven't seen and talked to her since? It was just that? A clean cut?"
Fletcher's a good guy. He hasn't done anything wrong by pitching the mixer - in fact, it probably would do Maxie some good to get out of his house without the goal of getting groceries or getting drunk. That doesn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow.
"Don't apologize, man. I get it. I could use some new something. I don't think I have it in me to find that new something at a holiday singles party, though."
Beyond that, he's flying home soon enough, and making plans the last two weeks of the year were out of the question. He wouldn't miss real snow for anything, especially not an awkward conversation over eggnog. He wishes so, so desperately that it was cold right now - that he could explain away the tightness in his chest as a result of the biting chill, and not because Fletcher was having a normal conversation about his ex-girlfriend.
"No," Maxie says simply, though the underside of his response is laced with a confusing mixture of frustration and hurt. Their breakup hadn't exactly been a surprise, though the suddenness of it all hadn't left Maxie with much room to process. And then, all at once, he had nothing but room - nothing but time - to think about how badly her rejection had stung.
"I haven't even been in her room yet. Her... My room that I set up to..." Jesus Christ, this is embarrassing. "So. I don't know, Fletch. I think I'm about to ruin the merriness of this shopping trip."
If there was one thing that could ever easily have Jo leave the house, it was to peer at art. In this case, it was just simply a Whoville-themed botanical garden. Nevertheless, Jo was more than happy to go it alone and check out the scenery. It was her day off and the OC apartments tended to give her island fever after a while. I need a cat or some shit to keep me company.
Before her ex, Jo was more than used to doing everything on her own, but the life Julian had given her had accustomed her to suddenly committing even the most mundane act by his side, instead. Now, it was back to being a lone wolf and Jo had to reacquaint herself once more.
Jo was beginning to zone out on a Grinch-shaped bush when Maxie Moon approached her, kicking her out of her daze. She didn't mind the company. He also had good taste in bars. "Aw, you afraid he'll steal your presents, too? Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't also take Well Played from you. Now that would just be downright fucked up."
"Seems we both seemed to peel ourselves away from the pub. What brings you to Whoville, of all places?"
"He can have them. I haven't gotten anything besides socks and hoodies in over a decade. Well Played, though... That I might take you up on your offer for."
Maxie feels a tinge of embarrassment settle between his shoulder blades. It's beyond clear she's remembered more about him than he has about her. Now, he'd played the Hollywood game a good chunk of time - he has the ability to lie his way out of a situation just fine. That's not really who he is, though, and while he's capable of playing it off, he'd rather own his faults than hide them.
"Just needed some air," he says. "Non-alcoholic air. I'm kind of a sucker for Christmas, so I'll settle for the fake snow and Who displays if it means getting a little closer to a white winter. And what brings you to the gardens...?"
Maxie hesitates. "I... Can't remember your name. I'm sorry. I know it starts with a J, and I know you're really good at taking shots, but beyond that, I'm pulling a blank."
Wren tried and failed to school her expression as she gave him a judgmental look, just humming heavily in response. "Still sounds gross. Hot chocolate is supposed to be just that, hot. All warm and cozy and shit. Whereas the mint is cool and it just throws everything outta whack. No thanks."
"It's an acquired taste, I'll agree with you there. For me, a peppermint hot chocolate is cozy. It feels like the bite of winter. I didn't grow up in the heat, so maybe that has something to do with it." Maxie nods toward the menu. "So no peppermint, that's for sure. What are you going to get? Just a plain hot chocolate? Or something more adventurous?"
closed starter for jo cooper ( @coopjo )
-> botanical gardens (christmas edition)
Maxie has been spending a lot of time alone. It's not like it's out of the ordinary for him; he's always enjoyed his own company and the peace of solitude. The real change now is that it's not fully his choice. Getting dumped means reminding yourself how to be alone, means finding new ways to fill all that time you'd dedicated to someone else.
This is why Maxie finds himself in Whoville, surrounded by mirth he can't bring himself to feel. It's helping a little. He thinks. Maybe.
Near one of the displays he sees a lone brunette - familiar in the faint annoyance she seems to wear on her face without meaning to. They'd met at Four Leaf a few weeks ago, he's sure of it, even if he can't quite remember her name. There are only a few weeks left until Maxie flies home for Christmas, and he's determined not to let them be lonely - if she's here alone, maybe she needed a friend, too.
"Are you avoiding the Grinch? I keep looking over my shoulder, making sure he's on the opposite side of the room at all times." Maxie does that now, scanning for the actor in head-to-toe green fur. "I don't care if he's mean to me. His whole look just freaks me out."
Nora tiptoed up Maxie's front steps and placed the box of his things on the porch as quietly as she possibly could.
It'd sat in a corner of her room for the last two months, gathering dust and staring at her judgmentally. (It lasted in the living room for all of twenty minutes before Aiden had come home and leveled her with a stare so withering she'd just grumbled and moved it back to its original place.)
There just wasn't a good time to return it, she told herself. She was plenty busy with work and trying to hype herself up into finishing her college applications, after all.
It wasn't about not knowing if she could face him. No. Definitely not.
She was at the bottom of the steps and resisting the urge to set a personal best in the 100 meter dash back to her car when she heard the creak of a door opening behind her. Shiiiiiit. Shitshitshit.
Her eyes slammed shut as every muscle in her body tensed. She turned, caught and sheepish, and raised a hand in greeting. "Heyyyyyy."
Maxie's splayed out on the couch and two hours deep in a doom scroll when the vibration of a notification from Ring pulls his eyes away from a sizzling pan of garlic. Probably just the mailman. Unfortunately, Maxie screws up the swipe and taps instead, opening the view of his porch and, consequentially, ruining his afternoon.
It's Nora. Why is it Nora?
He's at the door faster than he'd like to admit, phone hanging at his side and still open to the live feed. There's something in his throat - his heart, probably - and Maxie feels like he's choking as he opens the door to say...
Nothing. A decade of professional acting and one embarrassed heyyyyyy renders him silent. Maxie's imagined this a lot - the first interaction with Nora since their breakup - but he was always a lot cooler in those daydreams. More nonchalant, and not wearing sweatpants and house shoes.
"Hey," Maxie finally croaks. "I... Hey."
There's no reason to ask why she's here. The evidence is boxed up by his feet. Still... Nora is a wound he's always wanted to pick at, and more than ever now that they're over.
"You didn't have to drive all the way over just for this. I'm, uh. I have to be honest," he says, looking over his shoulder, just so he'd have a reason to look away for a second, "I haven't even tried to figure out what you've left here."
CLOSED STARTER for @maxie-moon at the christmas markets
"They told me this was good luck."
Fletch turns the small ornament over in his hands, his thumbs brushing the carved edges as though it might rub some of that 'fortune' off. "I think they were trying to rush me out so I wasn't taking up space hovering around," he scoffs, already regretting the twenty dollar impulse buy. His indecision has too often become his own worst enemy at times.
Fletcher shrugs and turns it over in his hand, and the back is a blank, white clay-textured slate that tells him this isn't something handcrafted. Rather, it looks like something mass produced.
"So—" he starts, tucking the ornament into his bomber jacket pocket with less care, "I was thinking about going to that single's mixer. You should tag along."
It's hard to feel festive during a Southern California winter. How can he, when Aurora Bay's competition is a town that got a healthy seven inches of snow just in time for Christmas last year? Maxie tries not to compare the two places, he does. They're completely different worlds, and for the most part, he prefers the buzz of California. Except when it's time for a white Christmas - then it's no competition, Wisconsin hands all the way down. Even now, shuffling around with Fletch through pop-up shops and the crowds that surround them, Maxie's day-dreaming of the real holidays he'll have back in West Bend.
Maxie puts down the hand-poured candle he'd been considering for his mother so he can take in the ornament Fletch has.
"I didn't realize there was anything particularly lucky about a fish." He squints, then shrugs. "It does kind of look like they just wanted to sell you something. It's cool though. Maybe the lucky part is that your tree will have a sick looking fish ornament now."
Maxie's smile, faintly perked at the corners of his mouth, wavers at the following suggestion, and he averts his gaze back to the candle selection. He loves Fletch, he really does, but...
"I... I don't know, man. A single's mixer sounds like a mess, not gonna' lie. I mean, you - you should definitely go. Single dads clean up at those things." The candles are starting to overwhelm him, so Maxie steps out, back into the faux snow-filled crowd. "Besides, I haven't been on a date since—" He fumbles, Nora sticking in his throat like peanut butter. "Since the break-up, and I don't want to be that sad sack at a Christmas party."
"I can't be the only one who hates peppermint-flavored things...right?" Wren asked aloud as she stood in line for one of the drink vendors, tilting her head as she looked the menu over. "Like, who wants coffee that tastes like drinking coffee after brushing your teeth?"
Maxie glances at the woman beside him to double-check that she's directing her comments his way before shaking his head.
"Toothpaste mint and peppermint are two completely different flavors. I can't speak on coffee, I think it's gross, but a peppermint hot chocolate?" Maxie hums; he's been daydreaming about one since he woke up. It's the whole reason he's here right now, braving the crowds. "It's one of God's finest creations."
