𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫.

“no, silly, we’re heading up to mountainside by bird scooter duhhh,” he deadpanned before breaking into another chuckle. the thought alone was so ridiculous deli had to laugh at his own joke. coupled with ariela leaning into his idea more and he was all smiles. “yeah we can take my car. you’ll have to bear with me though - it’s no private limo or lexus but my trusty toyota corolla does the job. for now, we can take a little stroll around town square first ‘cause there’s so much opportunity for dope shots around here.” deli waved his hand, a non-verbal no biggie. “ready when you are!”

adrian hopes he didn’t make things too awkward mentioning the broadcast. but considering that she offered to go to the diner with him means that she might need to vent for a bit., which he totally gets. “we can use my car, i parked up this street.” he nudges ariela with his elbow. “i’ll pay, too. my treat.”

max raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her drink. she was a little relieved, almost, that ariela had finally asked a question that had an easy answer. why was it happening now? well, it was a direct consequence of their very own actions! “i mean, i assume you haven’t gotten into a bitch fight live on tv until now. but you did today, so. that’s why it’s happening now and not earlier,” she explained. she wasn’t trying to be an asshole, or a know-it-all, or anything - that wasn’t why she stated the obvious. she was trying to be helpful. just, in her drunken state, she wasn’t all too good at it. “for the record, i did all those things, too. nyu and working hard and everything. so, you know, at least we’re tied,” she offered, like it was some kind of consolation. “i… have no idea what i’m gonna do, though, so,” she admitted. “maybe i can grovel? i mean, it’s not my idea of a good time, but. maybe if i go tell him how sorry i am about everything, he won’t fire me. i mean - i mean - we did get record ratings, even if it was a disaster. maybe - maybe people will think it was a bit. maybe we could make it our thing,” she offered, though she realized even as she said it that it was at least kind of ridiculous. fuck, she was fucked. dammit.

ariela shrugged off what she thought to be yet another example of max’s wisecracking nature. she had to be kidding herself if she thought the insufferable brunette would be any different by now, even after such a tense exchange. she could have chimed in when max added onto ariela’s complaints with her own college experience, but instead, ariela decided to sit back and listen. it wasn’t worth fighting, not tonight. instead, she simply nodded and gave a sympathetic smile. “ sure. “ she quietly acknowledged: not confirming, not denying, just acknowledging. 

lore, she couldn’t help but think to herself drunkenly.”wow, that’s a long time,” max observed, more than willing to state the obvious. she found this fascinating, and it made her deeply curious, if maybe not entirely surprising. after all, wasn’t there something about ariela that was fundamentally lonely, if not completely alone? still, it was none of max’s business, and she had not yet reached the point of drunkenness to forgo her own problems and submit herself to prying into ariela’s life, so she simply tucked that information in the back of her mind and carried on. she certainly could admire ariela’s unsteady optimism, though max wasn’t sure if she could say the same - in the past, things had certainly worked out fine for max, but this was… well, it was a big deal, wasn’t it? like, this might really be a disaster. and though she might be able to find another job, she didn’t want another job. she liked the job she had; that was kind of the whole point. “well,” she said softly, eyes wide and open, “at least one of us has it halfway figured out.”

how could he say no to a discount? “deal!” deli was really excited now and it showed through the way he was practically vibrating with energy at the spot. he even threw in a little fist pump into the air. “thanks ariela, you’re a real one!” he glanced around at the coffee shop that was growing busier by the minute. “nah, we can go all over and start heading out. consider this a northmount tour rolled into one. did you wanna grab you coffee first before we do?”

adrian grimaces, hearing the panic in ariela’s voice. “sorry! i didn’t mean to mention it. or see it. i just like leaving the tv on in the background when i get home. if it makes you feel any better, i only caught like the last five minutes or so?” well, the end of the broadcast was basically the entire argument, but that’s not something he should bring up. “oh yeah, they have the best sundaes. what’s wrong with pie?”

“it’s certainly all-american, that’s for sure. but i wouldn’t have it any other way.” adrian nods. “yeah, it’s not too far from here. we should grab a bite one of these days. maybe i can give you more personal and/or objective facts about northmount for you to add to your report.” he glances over at ariela, a curious and concerned look washing over his features. “or we could just stress eat. especially after…” he leaves it in the air, not sure if mentioning the live broadcast with max is still a bit of a touchy subject, especially with what happened during it.

ariela was entertaining him. this was good; it meant she was more likely to agree to his request.  “i don’t believe in free labor,” deli stated resolutely. “but i’m not exactly rolling around in dough over here. i can pay you $100 for the day, you get a free photoshoot and headshots, and you get some holiday fun time with me which is your best offer, if i had to say so myself,” deli countered. in case that wasn’t enough, he decided to pull all the stops, throwing in for extra measure: “and if you’re feeling in the giving season mood, i’m asking as a friend because this could be a really good opportunity to build my portfolio. please? it’ll be a fun time, i promise.”

max wasn’t certain that trapped was the word for what she felt; she was in the midst of a disaster, sure, but that wasn’t really northmount’s fault. as much as she felt homesick, she also kind of liked this town, and the people here, and though she’d screwed up big time, she was certainly further from scott’s wrath out here ( at least, until she charged up her phone. after that, it was over for her ). she simply shrugged at ari’s next statement; max certainly had family she could go see, but honestly, there were so many kids in the palmer family that max’s absence could very well go unnoticed much of the time. part of her did want to go see them - drink spiked hot chocolate with trevor and ruby, listen to her dad’s same stories he’d told them a billion times - but she dreaded the idea that she’d have to return to them as a failure, and explain what had happened ( or worse, they’d already seen it, they already knew, so max couldn’t even defend herself ). “maybe tomorrow,” she said, because it was all she could think to say. she’d deal with the impossible tomorrow, when she was hungover enough to be forced into pragmatism, and she was already really suffering anyways. “what about you?” she asked, because she couldn’t help herself - what had ariela missed out on this holiday season to come and get probably fired with max?

“well, almost everything. snowflake diner closes at midnight, i think. it’s been a while since i was there.” adrian glances down at his feet, smiling as a wave of nostalgia washes over him. “i swear that place tastes even better when you’re there in the middle of the night. have you heard of the place? they have really good pies.”

at ariela’s question, max’s blood ran cold. a place to stay? jesus, how fast had this all run through management? ( well, when you make a mistake this big… ) “a place to stay?” she asked, “are they kicking us out of the hotel?” already? it wasn’t like max was genuinely broke, exactly - she could pay for another night at the hotel on her own, then find her way back tomorrow, if this was all the case. but the principal of the thing didn’t bode well for either of them; had they really fucked up so badly scott wouldn’t even put them up for one more fucking night? if that was the case, they were fired for sure, weren’t they? she took another sip of her drink, face grim. what the fuck did i do?  

at ariela’s first question, one of max’s hands went to her pocket before she remembered: “my phone is dead.” it’s been dead for hours, and her charger is back at the hotel - she’d been avoiding the hotel for this very reason, of course; she didn’t want to see ariela. a pr disaster? well, yeah, duh, max figured. it’d been a screaming match, live on-air. max would have tuned in if she wasn’t the one in front of the camera. and then, at the mention of SNL, max managed to somehow completely forget herself; “SNL?” she asked, perking up with drunken excitement for a beat - there was gonna be a sketch about her on SNL? she loved SNL! would pete davidson play her? - before she remembered that was bad. because they were in deep shit, they were - going to get cancelled. fuck, fuck, fuck. “oh, my god,” she said, and for once, she had nothing smart to say, no stupid fucking quip to offer. “the today show?” she echoed, though it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. “oh, my god,” she moaned, incapable of anything else. she raised her hand in a wave towards the bartender, a request for another drink, then buried her head in her hands. “we are so fucked.” did her parents see the show? if they hadn’t, they would. they’d be so embarrassed. max was gonna lose her job - would she have to move back home? or crash on ruby’s couch like the weird jobless aunt everyone always figured she would be? she didn’t want to lose her job. she loved her job. this was beyond cataclysmic. “i’m so fucked,” she repeated, voice breaking a little as she willed herself not to cry. 

when ariela came to approach max, max’s heart sunk. well, that had been the last thing she’d wanted - how could max face the other woman now? for one thing, there was the fight, the terrible fight, where every nasty thought they’d had finally boiled to the surface; they’d both said things they couldn’t take back. surely, hurting ariela’s feelings shouldn’t even be on max’s radar of concern right now - really, why should she care? she hated ariela, so it shouldn’t even matter. but, then: max was drunk, and maudlin, and already trying not to sink too far in to the twisting feeling of regret in her gut. so, maybe she felt a little bad - maybe she wasn’t sure she could handle seeing ari right now, after everything, because she was unsure of where to go from… wherever they had left off. but even aside that, of course, there was max’s giant fuck up, the absolute disaster that had been the live show; would ariela rub it in her face? it’d be ridiculous of max to expect anything less; and maybe she deserved it. she braced herself and took a long sip of her drink, then turned back to ariela, placing the glass back onto the counter with a dull little thud. “what?” she asked, voice soft and almost without malice.

“what do i want? i don’t want anything.” he blinked innocently, still grinning widely at ariela like he was cheshire cat reincarnated. deli stepped back and placed a hand on his chin as if he was thinking, then held his hands out to form a rectangle with his fingers — which was silly because his camera was hanging from his neck right there — and squinted. “has anyone told you you’d make a fabulous model?”

tell me this, ariela begins the rant, but max never has any intention of answering her, and ariela doesn’t really seem to have any intention of letting max answer her either way. so, it’s all this: ariela hates max, everything about her, every stupid little aspect of her person - and why? every snippet of max’s personality seems to repulse ariela, and here ari is, making that all too clear to max. and maybe it’s good they’re getting it all out there, airing it out ( live on air! ), because that always bothered max, too: the curt little smiles, the passive aggression, the refusal to acknowledge what so clearly lingered just below the surface of their every interaction: utter loathing. and how, max wondered, did they get so unlucky? two people who just couldn’t get along, forced to work together? it’s not like max had a hard time making friends. it’s not like she was just inherently unlikable at her core to everyone, that wasn’t true. she was pretty likeable, most of the time! you could ask her friends! hell, you could ask steve the cameraman, who, at this particular moment looked like her was going to pass out from stress alone. people liked max, so what was the fucking problem here? jesus! she opened her mouth to speak, face burning, but when she felt a lump begin to grow in her throat, she clamped her mouth shut with gritted teeth, turned on her heels, and left. so much for finishing out the broadcast, right?

that drove max crazy, too - the ignoring her, skating right on by max when she so clearly was trying to fucking talk to her. again, in another situation, ariela’s dedication to finishing out the script might have reminded max - they were on air! she should act like it! but it didn’t, not now, not this time; it only served to make her more and more frustrated. so, she stood there, fuming, oblivious to her job going on around her ( yeah, not her proudest moment ), 5 feet and 5 inches of really super pissed. and when ariela finally did address max, that did exactly nothing to quell her anger. 

“what, like if the situation was reversed, you would have welcomed me into your room, your bed? is that actually what you’re implying? you probably would have had me, like, sleeping in the lobby, or something! just because i made it clear i didn’t wanna do the nice thing i did for you, that doesn’t mean i didn’t do it! and i don’t have to prove myself to you, god! i mean, i got hired here for a reason, but i don’t have to tell you all about how i pour over my notes every weekend or how i research every assignment no matter how stupid it is, and i don’t have to tell you about how half the time it’s me editing the teleprompter to add in supplementary information, because it’s none of your business! you’re not my boss, you’re not my friend, you’re barely my coworker - you’re an obnoxious roommate at best!” she exclaimed, heartbeat loud in her ears as she more or less devolved into yelling at ariela right there, in front of the bakery. and, there was an irony in it, and it was kind of pathetic: i don’t have to prove myself to you, max asserted, not half a second before she felt compelled to list all of her most professional behavior out to the other woman. why did she care so damn much? this so wasn’t max, the anger she couldn’t choke down, the need to make it clear that she wasn’t a complete and total slacker like ariela seemed to think; god, why did max care?

and just like that, ariela found herself reverting back to seventeen, back to the fights with her mother that ruined it all. low-blows would be slung, while the rest of the family tried to avoid their wrath. by now, ariela was over a thousand miles away from that cursed little denver apartment, but in this instance, it felt like it never ended. no amount of professional fronts would change that.