The Last Chicane

Masks

I woke up to the smell of pancakes. I slowly made my way to the bathroom attached to the guest room and for dressed. And by dressed, I mean a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Since I only planned on staying at Max's apartment all day.

I walked into the kitchen, finding Max with his back turned to me facing the stove.

"I don't think pancakes are in your diet for the season." I said.

He whirled around to face me, laughing. "Definitely not. These are for you."

He grabbed the plate with the mountain of pancakes stacked on them and sat them on the bar in front of me.

I smiled. "You made all of these for me?"

He nodded his head.

I started laughing. "Are you trying to make me fat?"

His eyes got big. "No no. Of course not. I would never do that- not that I think you're fat now-"

I held my hand up to get him to stop talking.

"Max. I'm joking. Thank you for making me breakfast."

I perched myself on the bar stool and pulled the plate over to me.

He passed me a fork, leaning on the bar with his forearms. I took a bite, all of the flavors exploding in my mouth.

"I'm actually impressed."

He laughed. "Why?"

"Because Charles can't-" I stopped, suddenly remembering everything that happened yesterday.

I immediately went back to eating in attempt to forget what had happened.

My heart ached. There was a Charles shaped hole in my heart now. And I don't think it would ever be filled by anyone else.

Max looked at me intently. "I still think you should talk to him."

I ignored him, not wanting to talk about it at all.

"Blake."

I looked up from my plate at him. He was glaring at me.

"Talk to him." He pushed.

"I don't want to." I said around a mouth full of pancakes.

There was a knock in the door.

Max stood up, a smirk growing.

"Talk to him." He repeated.

I stopped chewing. "What did you do?"

He started towards the door.

Then pausing halfway to the door, looking back at me.

"Just. Give him a chance." He said softly.

I glared at him. "Are you taking his side?"

Shaking his head he continued, "I'm not taking any sides. Just. Trust me, please?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Fine. I'll listen. But that doesn't mean I'm talking to him."

Max opened the door and Charles walked in. I was shocked to see how he looked. His hair was disheveled. He was wearing his glasses. He had on a black hoodie and jeans with sneakers. The dark circles under his eyes told me that he more than likely didn't sleep at all last night.

"Hi." He whispered.

I just looked at him, expressionless.

"Can we talk in private?" He looked at Max, who nodded and walked down the hallway, turning into the room that had his simulator in it and shut the door.