--The next morning, Friday, Maxine’s Story, 12 hours before the accident--
The smell of meat being cooked was an aroma Max had never woken up to before. She was always too far from the kitchen. It wasn’t a bad feeling. After a moment, her brain reminded her of everything that happened the day before and she realized where she was. In the dark, it hadn’t looked so bad, but as the morning sunlight illuminated the room, it was worse.
Some shabby apartment. The couch she was sleeping on was a faded red and green with patches missing. There were empty beer bottles filling a garbage bin in the corner, and a bag of trash sat next to it. Multiple stains colored the drab carpet and wallpaper was peeling off where water had damaged the walls. There was a television across from the couch, but it had a huge crack through the middle of it. Right next to it was a rifle.
Because she didn’t have anywhere else to go, Arco let her sleep on his couch. She still didn’t trust him very much, but there were no other options. Anyway, wasn’t she just mistrustful because he seemed lower class? She shouldn’t be so classist. This was how normal people lived, and it was what she needed to adapt to.
As she started getting up, the blanket she was using fell and knocked over a beer bottle, which clattered loudly on the floor as it rolled away. She realized the entire room was slightly shifted to an angle.
“You awake?”
Arco peeked his head from around a corner to ask. Max smiled.
“Yeah, seems like it,” she said. “Thanks for giving me a place to stay. Like I said, I’m really homeless, and I don’t know much about the city.”
“New to the area?”
It felt wrong to tell the truth. He was a revolutionary, which meant he wasn’t a big fan of the upper class. Wouldn’t he just think of her as some snobby rich kid pretending to be an anarchist as a trend? Plenty of them existed; she had met some in university. This was her best opportunity at getting in with a group of like-minded individuals, so making herself look good was important.
“Something like that,” Max eventually decided to say. A non-committal answer. “Have you lived here long?”
“All my life, honestly,” Arco said, going back to cooking. “I was born down in the slums and grew up in the streets. Pretty regular story, though. Everyone has tough lives, so there isn’t any point in bellowing out our sob stories. I’m alive right now, and that’s all that matters. You don’t mind bacon, right?”
Bacon.
She’d never actually had any. It was peasant food, and her mother never allowed the cooks to serve any.
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Great. I’ll have it done in just a second.” There was a pause before he continued. “So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you planning on staying in the city for a while? It ain’t easy just living in holes.”
“I was thinking about it,” Max said. This was sort-of the truth. Really, there wasn’t any plan. “I mean, I don’t really know anybody here, so it’d be tough.”
“What are ya’ talking about? You know at least one person. Where ya’ from originally?”
“Not sure.”
“No idea? You an orphan or an amnesiac? Well, never mind, it doesn’t matter. Who am I to try and dig into other people’s past? If you aren’t sure whether you’re gonna stay or not, where are you gonna go?”
“Wherever the wind takes me,” Max said. “I want to see the world.”
Arco didn’t respond as he came out of the kitchen with two plates of food. He tossed one on the coffee table in front of the couch and set his on a counter near a barstool.
“Bon appetit. Bacon and hash. Five star meal, according to those who’ve tried it.”
There weren’t any utensils, so Max was forced to eat with her hands. It was…
Wow.
For some reason, it was really good. Like, it was incredibly good. Why didn’t more people eat this stuff? The way it melted in her mouth was worth the entire journey she’d taken so far.
“So?”
“It’s good. Wow, are you like a chef?”
“Ha! No, but I probably should be with these master level skills,” Arco said, smiling greedily. “But I’ve cooked for lots of people, so I sorta got used to it. If I ever got a normal job, maybe it’d be one at a restaurant.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“Hmm, what kind of work? Odd jobs and that sort of stuff. Nothing steady.”
Max realized what a rude question it was for her to ask. It never affected her, but the economy of District 5 was currently in a recession, and getting work was incredibly difficult. Many people were without jobs, and someone acting as a revolutionary would obviously not have one. This was hard.
“But anyway, you’ve gotta have more friends than just me in the city,” Arco said, changing the subject after realizing the awkward air. “Come on, you gonna tell me that you just decided to take a train into the city without knowing a single person?”
“Well, I know a few people, but not where they live…”
“Mind if I ask who? It isn’t likely, but maybe I know em. I am a pretty sociable person, ya know.”
She didn’t actually have anyone she could name. All her friends were in the upper strata, and if he somehow knew who they were, her cover would be blown. The image of her maid flashed in front of Max’s eyes, but she couldn’t remember her friend's name.
Actually, naming her could also be bad anyway. If she was still pretending to be Maxine, then it would trace back to her.
Wait.
“What time is it?”
The random non sequitur stunned Arco for a second, and he pulled out a watch from his pocket.
“Ten in the morning.”
Dad was supposed to arrive home at around nine, Max thought. Even if Mom didn’t realize that someone was pretending to be me, there’s no way Dad or any of the other servants wouldn’t in the morning.
Once that news got to her dad, he would send an alert out to all police with her picture on it. It would be everywhere. After that, her life on the run would be cut short.
“Something wrong? You’re looking pale.”
What was she supposed to do? Going back home right now would solve absolutely nothing! In fact, it would probably make things worse! They’d up the security on her and not let her out of anyone’s sight. It was only thanks to a lax oversight that Max could run away from home in the first place.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Woah, come on,” Arco said. “You’re definitely not. It’s written all over your face. I don’t know what’s troubling you or what’s wrong, but if you need help with something, don’t hesitate to ask. I happen to be a sucker for cuties like yourself and don’t have nothing to do all day.”
It was tough. She really could use some help. Really, the best thing to do would be to leave the city entirely. Then there was no way her parents could find her.
But that felt too impossible of a step to take. Too final.
Maybe there was a reason the two of them met. It was fate.
“I do need help.”
“Well, then don’t worry. Just rely on me! I know I may seem like some kinda scumbag, but if you look deep down, beneath all the scum, there might be a dependable worker in there. What’s going on?”
Blending the lies with the truth, Max only gave a quick snippet.
“There are people looking for me. They’re after me. I can’t explain why, and I don’t really want to go any deeper than that for personal reasons. But I know they’re trying to catch me, and I don’t want to go back.”
Fortunately, while this seemed like a huge issue for Max, to Arco, it wasn’t even a bit of trouble. People had been hunting after him for years. But he didn’t want to seem flippant.
“Are they? Damn. That’s serious.”
“It is,” Max said. “I’m not exactly sure what to do. Like I said, I don’t really know anyone in the city, so I don’t have anywhere to go. I’ll admit that I’ve never done this before, so I’m really nervous and confused…”
For a few minutes, the two sat in thought. Then, Arco broke the silence very casually.
“Okay, I think I’ve got an idea. First, we need to change your appearance.”
“Change my appearance?”
“Exactly,” he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “What’s the shortest you’ve ever cut your hair?”
***
It was a scary experience. Proper ladies have always kept their hair long and stylish. Getting it too short was a sign of having a poor stylist, which was embarrassing. But this was for a good reason. Nobody would expect her to have her hair cut this short. It was Arco’s idea, and he knew a good barber who cut it all the way down to her jawline. It was a bob cut, and not the cleanest of trims. Even after washing it, hairs were slightly uneven.
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“Why are you worrying? Trust me, the worse it looks, the better it is for ya,” Arco said after they finished. “Come on. If someone is looking for you, then the first thing they’re going to check for is hair. That’s how it works. I’ve helped scout people before, and that’s just how our minds think.
“Next, throw on a pair of sunglasses. Perfect. Those’ll cover your eyes, which is one of the most memorable parts of the human body. Add in a scarf that covers your mouth and chin? There’s no way anybody would recognize you. Any wanted posters would be totally off mark.”
“Is that so…”
Even if it didn’t feel correct, when Max stared at her reflection in a shop window, she couldn’t help but admit she looked totally different. Before, she bore the appearance of someone noble. Now, she was a common working woman. Having not washed her face or clothes helped accentuate the disguise. As the morning extended on longer, Arco recommended more and more clothes that helped complete the look. From bottom to top, she changed her shoes, skirt, belt, shirt, and coat, then once it was all done, she grabbed a men’s beret and capped herself.
It was the opposite transformation from any of the romance novels or plays she had seen. In those, the poor heroine is swept off her feet and altered into a beautiful princess. It was a thematic subversion that took her in the opposite direction.
“In the end, I’m just gonna go out and say it: methinks this is an upgrade to your earlier fashion,” Arco said as the two finally left the thrift store they had been looking through. He was wearing a shabby trench coat with a hood he purchased from inside. “Earlier, you looked like some doll dressed up by idiots. Now...you just look like an idiot that dressed themselves.”
“Jeez, thanks a lot,” Max said, throwing her backpack on. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“It was meant to be one!”
“Yeah, yeah~.”
It was close to midday, and unlike yesterday, the streets seemed totally different. Puddles on the ground reflected grey blue from the sky, and different colored glass windows reflected dancing lights from the sun and bustle. In the marketplace, people were chatting about anything pointless and trading food for clothes. You couldn’t even tell that these people were poor. In fact, they gave off such a feeling of life that ‘poor’ seemed like the wrong word to describe them as. This was the experience of organic humanity Max had read about, free from the corruption of the capitalists. How life ought to be lived.
Arco snapped his fingers in front of her face twice to get her attention.
“Yo, you zoning out? What did ya’ wanna get for lunch?”
“I have no idea. Anything is fine. Pick your favorite. It has got to be delicious since you’re a good cook and everything.”
“Heh, putting a heavy burden on me? Well, in that case…”
He chose a pleasant little bistro right on the corner of a street. People were eating sandwiches, and a group of little kids were running around, shouting at each other with wide smiles on their faces. Behind them was a grumpy looking man, chasing after. Outside of the restaurant was a group of men singing in acapella for donations. Max wanted to donate, but wasn’t confident she could do so. As they sat down after ordering, Arco checked his watch.
“Hey, Max, I gotta go run to the toilet, so I’ll be back in a second. Make sure nobody takes my food, okay? That happens sometimes.”
It sounded serious, but his tone was light and he was smiling goofily so Max just nodded and gave him a thumbs up. As he left, she turned her attention back to the singing men. This was incredible. It was worth immortalizing, so she pulled her backpack out and rifled through to find her camera. She called to the men before taking the picture, and they all made a pose as their song came to its conclusion, making for an incredible shot.
Living on the streets was starting to seem not too bad.
***
The men had collected their donations and left before Arco came back from the bathroom. When he did, there was dried blood on his lip. He looked weak and bags had formed under his eyes. Max was sitting outside by a fountain after the bistro waitress asked her to leave. Waiting for half an hour on her own. Overall, it had been two.
“Sorry about that,” Arco said, tying his hair back. “I’m...sorry. My bad.”
As much as Max was angry and wanted to snub him, she didn’t have much of a choice. She had nowhere to go. And while she initially thought he had just decided to dump her, his ragged appearance now instead made her worry. He looked like he had just gotten into a fight. His face looked hurt.
“It’s fine,” she said. Turning her head away, Max handed him a bag. “Here. Take it.”
“What is it?”
“Your sandwich. I made sure nobody took it.”
“Jesus,” Arco said slowly, taking the food. Then he laughed. “You’re not even gonna ask what happened? Why I look like I got my ass kicked to sunday and back?”
“No. You didn’t pry into my history, so I won’t pry into yours. That’s the fair thing to do.”
He sat next to her.
“Well, thanks. Also, thanks for staying and waiting to give me my lunch. I was actually really looking forward to it.”
“Guh, don’t thank me for anything. I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t remember where your house was. If I knew, I would’ve just gone there instead. Although I guess I’d just be waiting outside the door, then.”
“Ha. If that ever happens, don’t worry. I keep a spare key under the doormat.”
“Doesn’t that make it easy for someone to break in?”
“Sure. But what, are they gonna steal my broken tv?”
“Good point.”
Max hopped up to her feet with all the spryness built up sitting down for such a long time. The sky was turning orange, and even a dark bloody red in the distance. Beyond that was purple and finally black. Night was coming, and even if it was a little strange, today was far better than yesterday. Honestly, the past 24 hours had been some of the most unique experiences in her entire life. Even if it all ended in that moment, she couldn’t regret doing it.
“Time to go back, then?”
“Go back?” Arco raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? We’d miss some of the best sights in the city. Anyway, I need to treat you for saving this.” He shook his sandwich bag.
“Are you sure? You’re all bloody…”
Without thinking, Max touched the streak of blood that ran down Arco’s chin. His eyes widened and she pulled away, realizing how that might have seemed.
“Ah! Sorry. I didn’t think about it…”
But he played it off easily.
“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry,” Arco said, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, he had wiped the blood away. His lip didn’t look hurt at all. “You just shocked me there. But yeah, I’m totally healthy. Healthy as healthy can be. In fact, watch this.”
He did a standing backflip. A few passerbys started clapping.
“That’s not something you see every day, is it? Come on, let’s go to the bridge!”
Without even letting her try to pretend to object, Arco grabbed Max by the wrist and pulled her down the street.
***
Normally, water is pitch black, tainted with soot that mixes in with the atmosphere and rain. Even though it may be clean, it gave off the appearance of the abyss, even when staring at a pool a meter deep.
Max had never realized how different it could be when reflecting the sunset. At first, she thought Arco was only taking her to a regular street bridge over the river; while the view would be nice, there wasn’t anything special about it. She had seen it dozens of times. Instead of doing that, however, he took her to the top of a department building where they snuck passed the restricted access signs.
Just looking down on the city wasn’t unusual either. She’d been up the Eiffel Tower.
Never had she combined it all together.
From up above all the different buildings, the way the river and canals all connected together was like a mosaic line painting through the gray. Her mind was recalled to an ancient japanese technique of artistry: kintsugi. Taking a broken piece of ceramic and repairing it with an obvious gold mold, meant to emphasize the beauty in the history of something coming apart then becoming whole again. There was too much to take in.
A breathtaking sight. Far better than any from before.
To capture it in an image was an injustice, but Max felt like she had no choice. She pulled her camera from her bag and took a picture. As she pulled her face away from the capture lens, Arco was staring at her.
“Yo,” he started. “Wanna take one together? Both of us, plus the city in the background?”
“Sure!”
There was no tripod or anything to set the camera on, so she just let Arco take it and aim it back towards them. He grabbed her and pulled her close and the flash blinded them.
***
“That’s a nice picture,” Arco said, waving it around as the image settled. “And a nice camera. You do a lot of photography or something? Oh, actually, is that pushing too much? You don’t gotta tell me if ya don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine. Honestly, I’m not a photographer or anything. I just like taking pictures.”
“Well, you’ll need to show me what you’ve taken. I bet you got some nice ones.”
“Heh, yeah, I think I do,” Max said, smiling. She opened her bag to put the camera back, then stopped. Something was wrong.
Arco quickly picked up on it.
“You okay?”
Max hadn’t noticed it before. Probably because the stuff in her bag was all mixed up, different things all over the place. But Even when she took her camera out earlier, she hadn’t noticed it missing. That’s because of the very specific position it was in: her camera had its own hard shell box, and under it was where the item should have been.
Without saying anything to Arco, Max started searching through the bag. She tossed clothes aside without a care. Her notebook too. It was gone. Completely disappeared. Suddenly, the warmth she had just been feeling was sucked out. Now it was only cold and alien.
“Hey, what’s up? Did you lose something?”
She couldn’t say it with good conscience. It would break any trust between the two of them. If she admitted it, then any chance of continuing this life would be over. And truthfully, that was something Max couldn’t let happen.
Someone had taken her wallet.
It contained all of the cash she had brought, along with her ID, banking information, and citizenship. Practically all of the money she had was gone. It was like an entire chunk of Max’s soul had been ripped from her chest.
Then, as Arco put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades to provide comfort, she realized it didn’t matter.
Fuck Maxine Vasquez.
There was no going back, at this point. The life of a snobby prep was now gone forever. And Max didn’t want it back. This was the moment where she decided to completely cast it away. Wash herself of that person, and become someone new. Now, she was just Max. That night, a brand new person was born. A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. That was the soul of Maxine Vasquez vanishing. Banished from this body, whoever stole her identity could have it.
Oh.
Luise. That was Max’s servant’s name. Funny how she recalled it at this time. Whatever. She could be Maxine Vasquez from now on, since that person no longer existed.
Hopefully she was doing well.
Max sent her friend a silent prayer and thanks, though it was long overdue.
Max laughed, openly and loudly, for the first time in a very long time. It was a bellowing laugh that wasn’t suitable for a woman of her upbringing, but that was exactly why she did it. It was something she had always wanted to do, and it was so ugly somebody could only call it beautiful. She laughed until tears poured out of her eyes, and for some reason, Arco, who had just been watching in concern at first, started laughing himself. They both ended up rolling on the ground like idiots as the sun finally disappeared and night arrived. The moon clambered its way up across the stars and clouds and shone down on their bodies before they stopped laughing.
Their voices were hoarse and their bodies tired, but the two sat up to watch the light from the streetlights and cars below. Unlike anything before, this wasn’t anything fantastic. But it was real. Honestly, so long as you’re living, everything is beautiful. Everything is worth looking at. In this moment, for the first time in her life, Max felt alive.
“What were you planning for dinner?”
***
Classic french cuisine was a good enough choice. It didn’t matter. This would be the first time Max got to eat food as a real human being. No matter what she ate, even if it was dry stale bread, it would be incredible. Because it was food. Because she could eat it, free to be herself, it would be the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.
Pasta.
Soup.
Salad.
It was all incredible. In her mind, Max knew she was only riding a high. Eventually, she would settle back down and become normal again. Logically, there was an absolute guarantee of this happening.
That was all the more reason to celebrate.
She was drinking wine with Arco, who had been shocked all night. Instead of being the one to lead Max around, it was the other way around. A complete role-reversal. Not that he didn’t mind it. She held her glass up for celebration of a two-person toast and he matched her.
“Cheers to becoming real!”
“Honestly I got no idea what you’re talking about,” Arco said. “But I’ll say cheers to that.”
The moment their glasses touched a car smashed halfway through the side of the restaurant they had been eating and continued on to slam directly into a stone wall on the other side of the street.