A/N: Hi! I hope you like it when your favorite characters suffer and are miserable. I also hope you like it when there is no plot set in stone cause the author is incapable of making up her mind. Enjoy the ride! Let's hope it's worth it :)

1.

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

'Ugh.'

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

'What the hell?'

It was the annoying buzzing of her phone that finally rose Max from her slumber. Being the first decent night's sleep she'd had in two weeks, waking up so abruptly only served to make her feel worse than she already did.

Bzzzzt bzzzzt

That was the third incoming text in as many minutes. Whoever was looking for her obviously did not like being ignored. Groaning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Max half-heartedly grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Her finger hovered over the screen for just a second, her breath hitching in the back of her throat at the sight of the photo she still used as her background image. She blinked away a few forming tears and forced herself to make a mental note to change the picture as soon as possible. As much as she hated to think that way, she knew that anything would be better than having to see her dead best friend's smiling face every time she wanted to use her phone.

The young girl's expression changed from sad to confused as she checked her notifications. Three new messages; she expected as much. What she didn't expect at all, however, was for all of them to be from the same person, Victoria Chase.

She could faintly remember giving Victoria her number in the beginning of the school year, back when she had actually tried to be at least somewhat social and make friends. She also remembered the look of disgust Victoria had given her, and the fact that the blonde had never, ever used that number in the span of the entire year. Not even when Mrs Grand had paired them together for a science project and they had to work with one another whether they liked it or not.

With all that in mind, Max had no idea what could have possibly possessed Victoria to make her text her not one, but three times in a row.

'Maybe someone hacked her phone,' was the first thing in the girl's mind, quickly followed by 'or it's one of her stupid pranks…' The thought alone made Max cringe. Sure, Victoria was a grade A bitch who found joy in making other people's lives, and especially Max', miserable, but that would be low even for her. Sighing, the hipster hastily tapped on the first notification, as if doing so quickly would somehow make the whole thing easier and help her come out of it unscathed.

You better not miss any more classes, Caulfield. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been absent the past week.

'What the fuck? Since when does Victoria care if I'm missing classes or not?' It was indeed true that Max hadn't been attending any classes for the past seven days, falling dangerously behind in all her school work, but she just couldn't bring herself to do anything. She was doing better for about a week but, as she realized now, that was only because her brain was on autopilot; hazy, and running on spare adrenaline. She attended classes not because she wanted to, but because her mind told her to do so. That was until that Monday, when she woke up in the morning and she finally... crashed. Suddenly, the weight of everything was all too real and Max broke under it. The only times she left her room those past few days were when she had to use the bathroom or when the grumbling of her stomach was too annoying to be ignored.

We're still not friends, Max rolled her eyes reading the next text, but I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry about what happened.

That's right, Victoria had actually showed up to Chloe's funeral two weeks ago. Be it because she felt guilty about what had happened, because she wanted to be somewhat there for Max, or simply because she figured that that would be the decent thing to do after your best friend kills your classmate's best friend, it didn't really matter. Her and Max never got to talk after that, not with Max moping in her room all the time and not bothering to do anything else other than zombie her way from class to class, never once making any effort to participate in any way, let alone chat people up. It occurred to her then that this was, in fact, the first time her and Victoria had communicated in any way. The taller girl, though still filled to the brim with attitude, had changed after that dreadful day, and Max couldn't believe she was just now noticing this. She had caught her staring at her on several occasions during their shared classes, but she never seemed… mean in any way. If anything, her eyes were soft, questioning during the first couple of days of Max' return to class, and giving off a vibe of understanding after that. She never once looked at Max with pity. Lord knew just how much the brunette despised those looks most people would give her, the ones saying "awww, poor little helpless Max".

Shaking the thoughts away from her mind, Max scrolled down, reading Victoria's next and also last message.

I have all your homework, fyi. You're welcome to come pick it up in case you still care about that weeping GPA of yours.

Max squinted in confusion as she began typing a reply. She wasn't planning on it, but she also didn't expect Victoria to have all her school work and plainly refusing to give it to her.

Why not just bring it over?

The reply came seconds later, almost as if Victoria had been waiting over her phone for Max to text her.

Don't be stupid, Caulfield. I do still have a reputation to uphold.

Max could only groan at the response. She was about to start typing again when another message arrived. 'And here I am, afraid to double text in case I bother people,' Max shook her head.

I'm there now and everyone is sleeping in so you can drop by if you make it quick.

'Why would everyone be sl- Oh right. It's Sunday.' Not only had Victoria woken Max up quite early in the morning, she had done so on a Sunday. 'Does this girl never relax?'Max sighed, weighing her options. She could ignore Victoria and just ask someone else for the homework, Kate for example or maybe even Warren, or she could take Victoria up on her offer and go across the hall. Having to talk to the other girl was more off-putting than not, but she couldn't help but think that maybe, in some way, for whatever reason, Victoria was the only person she could actually talk to at that moment without having to worry about her being patronizing in any way. Of course, she would have to get up, get dressed and be at least somewhat presentable if she wanted to go over there and not have the taller girl slam the door on her face, which was also something she wasn't particularly looking forward to. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, Max finally decided to throw on a tee and a pair of jeans and quickly go across the hall for her oh-so-precious homework.

She carelessly threw her old tee shirt on the bed, making a mental note to either wash it as soon as possible or discard it completely since it was becoming gross to even look at, put on her worn down Converse shoes, and made her way to the door. Her hand rested on the handle as she briefly glanced to the side, where her mirror hung. 'God, I'm a mess…' she thought as she rubbed the dark circles that had formed underneath her eyes. She could almost hear Victoria's voice in her head, telling her just how crappy and pathetic she looked. The girl sighed as she finally opened the door, not managing to make herself care enough to put any more effort in her appearance than she already had.

The dorm hallway was quiet, everyone probably still sleeping just like Victoria had said. Sundays always had this general feeling of relaxation to them as almost everyone would choose to either sleep in or chill in their dorm rooms. Max loved how every door remained open all throughout the day and how she would often see the girls, some in their pajamas, walking from room to room like the social butterflies most of them were, hanging out with one another. For her, Sundays were usually spent in Kate's room, drinking tea and talking about everything and nothing at the same time, or, some admittedly fewer times, with Warren usually at the local Arcade, needlessly spending quite a bit of money in quarters only to play some ancient video games that were "old" even when they were supposed to be new. The only door that would always remain shut was, naturally, Victoria's. Taylor and Courtney could usually be heard going in and out, and then there was, of course, that obnoxiously loud music that could be heard all the way from the girl's room to probably the entrance of the dorm, never once stopping, not even during "quiet hours". It was then that Max realized that she hadn't heard any music coming from Victoria's room in the past couple of weeks. In fact, she hadn't heard a single sound coming from the other girl's room, something that was more than odd. No music, no chatting, no ordering her posse around… Victoria had been, and still was, uncharacteristically quiet.

Checking her phone one last time, Max took a deep breath and lightly knocked on Victoria's door. The muffled, faint "come in" would have gone unheard had she not been straining her ears to listen. She slowly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, preparing herself for the greatness that she knew was Victoria's room. Well- the greatness she thought she knew was Victoria's room. She was definitely not prepared for the darkness that engulfed her. 'Looks like I was worried about being presentable for nothing…'

"Shut the door, Lamefield," came Victoria's voice from somewhere in the room, Max hadn't spotted her yet. The girl cringed slightly at the nickname but did as she was told, closing the door to the only source of light. Turning around, she used the few seconds it took for her eyes to adjust to the darkness to inspect the room as best as she could. It was immaculate as ever, and yet it felt stuffy and heavy, the air stale; as if the window hadn't been opened in a while. Max half expected for someone to jump out from a dark corner and beat her up or something. She shuddered at the thought. "If you're done gawking, your homework's on my desk." Victoria was sitting on the couch just off to Max' right, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

"Uh… Thanks, Victoria," mumbled Max as she almost blindly made her way across the room where she knew Victoria's desk was. She wasn't ever going to let Victoria know she had snuck inside her room and gone through all her stuff, but she still mentally patted herself on the back for doing so as that meant she kind of already knew her way around. "Ouch, shit," she muttered when banged her leg on the short coffee table that was in the way.

"You know, I would appreciate it if my room is still intact after hurricane Max makes her way through it," Victoria's remark, though less than kind, lacked its usual bite. The hipster straightened herself up and stared at her classmate for a moment, the nickname she had just used hitting a little too close to home. Deciding not to pay it much mind, Max continued walking carefully towards the desk, picking up a neatly placed pile of notes and notebooks once she got there. A pile that seemed like an entire year's worth of school work instead five days.

'She actually has all the homework, not only for our shared classes,' she thought feeling a little bit impressed and confused as she turned to face the sitting girl. "So uh…" she squinted faintly in an attempt to see her classmate more clearly in the darkness. "Thanks for collecting my homework. I… I owe you one." She mentally cursed herself as having been caught so off guard by the sight of Victoria's room had served to suddenly increase her usual awkwardness by a tenfold.

"Yeah, whatever," came a quiet mumble.

'Okay. Okay, this is getting way weird…' "Victoria… Are you okay?" The words tumbled out of Max' mouth before she even had time to think. The taller girl's head snapped at her direction, causing her gulp nervously, 'shit, was that the wrong thing to say?'

The brunette hastily weighed her options. She could just leave and ignore Victoria and her problems. That was not her, however. No matter how much she would like to pretend not to care about the other girl, she knew, deep down, that she couldn't help it.

"Keep moving, Caulfield," came Victoria's reply, making it clear that she was definitely not in the mood to talk, especially not to someone like Max, her proverbial arch enemy.

"You're the one who invited me over," Max insisted, against her better judgment.

"To collect your homework, not to have a heart to heart," Victoria snarled. "Look, Maxine ," Max cringed, "I'm not in the mood. If you want to have a tea party, you're in the wrong place. I suggest going next door, I'm sure that church freak won't deny you."

Max froze on the spot just as the words left Victoria's mouth. "Her name is Kate, Victoria," she all but spat. "I thought you'd be better than calling her names by now." The taller girl didn't show any signs of acknowledging anything that was being said. "I thought you had changed… After everything that's happened, after… after showing up to-" Max stopped herself. She swallowed the lump that had begun forming in the back of her throat and tried to ignore the twisting of her stomach. She still couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. As if by talking about it, she would make it more real. Sighing thickly, the shorter girl simply left the room without saying anything else to Victoria who didn't bother to get up from her sofa or even spare her a glance. "What the fuck ever, Victoria," she mumbled as she walked back in her own room, slammed the door, and and dropped the notes on her bed, caring little about the neat papers getting wrinkled.

"...expand a little and talk about the early American photography. So, who can tell me who is the artist known for being the one closest tied to the early years of the American photographic practice?"

Max came to an abrupt stop right outside the door to the photography class. It had been two weeks since she had set foot in the room, and she could already feel the all-too-familiar burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. The sight of the door alone was enough to make her want to throw up.

Principal Wells had spent about a week trying to find a decent replacement for Mr. Jefferson, who had been escorted out of the school premises in a way eerily similar to Nathan's, just hours after the latter one's arrest. Nathan was going down, but he made damn sure he was not going down alone.

Being unable to find anyone who could compete with Jefferson's reputation and connections, Wells had recruited Miss Hault; a pretty-looking woman, with an annoyingly nasal voice and a few pathetic connections to some New York galleries that no one knew anything about. Max had only seen her in passing once or twice in the hallways as she had yet to attend her class. She seemed pleasant enough, always smiling and talking animatedly with the students. Max could not stand those levels of optimism.

Still standing in front of the door, she could hear Miss Hault asking a question that she didn't know the answer to. "Fuck," she murmured as she ran her fingers through her disheveled hair, and inhaled deeply before opening the door. The fact that everything seemed to halt and all heads turned to look at her did nothing to help her uneasiness. She actively avoided looking at anyone, especially at Victoria who had turned towards her, her arm raised in the air.

"Well, if it isn't Max Caulfield herself," remarked the professor, the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth making the girl relax if only just a little bit. She quickly apologized for both her delay and the interruption and quietly made her way to the back where her desk was located, feeling everyone's eyes burning holes on her back.

"Okay, over here, everyone," said Mis Hault a moment later, drawing the attention away from Max. "Back to the question." Victoria's bracelets jingled as she abruptly moved her arm a little higher. "Someone other that Miss Chase," came Miss Hault's voice again, but it did little to motivate the rest of the class to participate. "Anyone?" Silence. "Alright then, go ahead Victoria," she gave in with a small sigh as Victoria sat up on her chair.

"Mathew B. Brady," the girl's voice had its usual obnoxious tone to it and Max had to try hard not to roll her eyes at how hard Victoria was, once again, trying to impress their teacher. It was so obvious she actually felt a little sorry for the blonde girl. "He was a skilled daguerreotypist, and he learned the technical aspects of the process from the American pioneers of the medium, Samuel Morse and John Draper. He-"

"That's right, thank you very much, Victoria," Miss Hault interrupted, causing her to frown in dislike.

"But I wasn't finished, Miss Hault. I-" she gave up when she saw the look the professor was giving her, one that informed her that yes, she was, indeed, finished. If she felt embarrassed or maybe even a little mad, she did one hell of a job hiding it as she turned to her "friends" and smiled boastingly at them. Her smile turned to a smirk as her head turned to look at Max who was making it a point not to make any sort of eye contact with her. She frowned slightly, not used to being ignored by the shorter girl but quickly brushed it off and turned her attention back to the lecture.

Max found it once again hard to care about the rest of the class which flew by in a blur of questions and answers, most of which were given by none other than Victoria. Her mind kept wandering... To Kate who was sitting in her usual spot, her nose buried in a notebook, to David who seemed unaffected by the events, but Max knew better now, to Joyce who had yet to clear Chloe's room almost as if waiting for her daughter to return home after a long night of partying like she would so often do, to Chloe… Fucking Chloe who would never smile again, who would never get the chance to dream again. Max felt her eyes burn and her chest tighten. 'Shit.' She fought to keep herself calm and from crying, but she could stop a small whimper from escaping her lips. This was all too much, she wasn't ready. Not ready to go back to class and definitely not ready to leave it all behind and act like nothing had happened; like the week she spent with Chloe never even existed.

The persistent vibration of her phone was what finally drew the young hipster back to reality, making her hastily wipe her eyes and, discreetly as possible, reach down for the device that was in the front pocket of her jeans.

At least you had the decency to show up. Max could practically hear Victoria's voice as she read the incoming text. She quickly turned her head, catching the blonde looking at her with a small, knowing smirk on her lips that immediately turned into a frown as her green eyes landed on her face. Max threw her a questioning look but received no answer as Taylor leaned in and whispered something in the other girl's ear, making her turn away from Max, but not before quickly typing something up on her phone and throwing one last glance over her shoulder.

Before she even had the time to decide against texting back, both because she didn't particularly like using her phone during class, and also because she was really not in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone Victoria, another vibration notified her of a new incoming text. From Victoria. 'What's her deal?' was the last thought in her mind before deleting the notification and zoning out again for the rest of the lecture, not bothering to check what it was the blonde wanted.

Soon, yet not soon enough, the bell rang, signaling the end of yet another missed class from Max, despite her physical presence in the classroom. Her body may had been there, but she never managed to bring her mind along for the ride.

She was once again on autopilot as she got up, threw her notebook and pencil case back in her bag and stood up, throwing one last, hasty glance to where Victoria had just been a few moments ago. She managed to catch a glimpse of the taller girl's bag as it disappeared through the door. Victoria was apparently in as much of a hurry to leave as Max who made a beeline for the exit with her head bowed down in an attempt to make herself as small as possible.

It was lunch time, which usually meant spending half the hour in line for food so disgusting most of it ended up in the trash, and the other half trying to ignore the headache-inducing clatter of the rest of the students, all occupying the usual tables one would find in a typical teenage high school movie.

With her head down, Max passed by the cafeteria quickly, really not in the mood to put herself through the ordeal the unwanted and, sadly, unavoidable social interactions would be. All she wanted to do was go back to her dorm, cocoon herself in bed and stay there for the rest of her life which, hopefully, wouldn't be all that long. She had almost made it out safely when she felt a hand wrapping around her arm, the grip so firm, it would most likely cause a bruise later. Max turned around abruptly, ready to tell the person off but stopped on her tracks when she saw Victoria standing there, head held high, as usual, only she was without her posse this time. It was a rare sight indeed, seeing the queen bee without her loyal followers.

Max involuntarily rolled her eyes slightly, a reaction she had adopted early on in her interactions with Blackwell's Regina George, but showed no other indication of annoyance. If anything, Victoria and her weird behavior was a welcome distraction from the hellish black hole that was Max' reality. So she did what she normally would and forced her mind to pay attention to the girl standing in front of her. Had she not done that, Max would have missed the dark circles under the taller girl's eyes and the way her hair was ever-so-slightly disheveled She wouldn't have seen just how tired Victoria looked and how sad her eyes were.

There were very few things Max was truly proud of and being mostly unable to see much outside her own depressive state was not one of them. Neither was being unable to read people, and Victoria was not making this any easier for her. The young hipster couldn't understand how someone could be so cold one moment and so warm the next. She was this close to believing that all her time traveling had seriously messed up the time and space continuity and the Victoria standing before her now was some sort of hybrid of all the different Victorias she had encountered over her time travels and the changes in her behavior was one of said Victorias trying to take control over the others.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, Max stood there; the two girls simply stared at each other for a moment, neither of them appearing willing to say anything. Seeing Victoria standing in front of her, looking like she'd seen better days, it was now clear to Max that she wasn't the only one who was going through a rough time. Victoria had lost someone close to her as well, and, no matter how much she absolutely hated Nathan and wasn't about to feel sorry for him in any way, Max knew what losing your best friend felt like. She hated to admit it, but she could, to some extent, sympathise with what her 'arch nemesis' was going through.

She squinted at her classmate, waiting for the taller girl to talk first. 'She was the one who stopped me anyways, she should be the one to talk,' she thought pulling her arm slightly, but not forcefully enough to release it from Victoria's grip. A second later, she felt the blonde's hand loosen its grasp and she saw her chest deflate as she exhaled a breath she had obviously been holding. Her mouth opened, yet no sound came out as she completely let go of Max' arm and she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, her eyes glancing around nervously.

"I'm-" she begun but was interrupted by the hipster's voice.

"Oh, shit, sorry," Max apologized hastily. "Go on," she prompted.

"Uh…" Victoria seemed to be at a loss for words, apparently thrown off track when Max interrupted her, something that made the hipster feel even more awkward than she already was. It was so weird seeing the 'Queen of Blackwell' not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," came a barely audible mumble from Victoria that made Max squint at her for the second time in as many minutes. "I said, I'm sorry," repeated the girl in a somewhat annoyed tone as if to show that she expected some kind of pat on the back for her words.

"For what?" Max asked before she could stop herself.

"Look-" another sigh, accompanied with a roll of the eyes and a few more awkward glances around. "I know I haven't exactly been… nice to you and… and I'm sorry. You witnessed something that I'm not even going to pretend I know what it's like, and no one should go through that. And… you lost someone very dear to you and that , that I do know what it's like. So… I guess what I'm trying to say is that, provided it stays between you and me, my door will always be open if you ever want someone to talk to." Victoria licked her lips nervously as she finished, her words having left Max staring at her, mouth slightly hung open both in dumbfoundedness and confusion.

"Wow, uh… thanks, Victoria. I'll be sure to keep this in mind," Max smiled faintly, surprisingly feeling a little better than she did a few minutes ago. Thanks to Victoria too, as unbelievable as that sounded. The taller girl nodded swiftly and turned around, hastily making her way to the opposite direction from where Max was headed, her small, somewhat proud smile not going unnoticed by the brunette, whose chest felt just a little lighter as she continued walking back to her room.

A/N: So I have been sitting on this for a while now and I'm still not too sure where I want it to go. I hope you stick around so we can all figure it out together.