Reconnecting Threads - Maxley Fluff, Angst and Murder Mystery

extra - fire

saw a TikTok asking what would've happened if Bradley won and Max and Tank died in the fire so I decided to write a sort of first chapter or teaser? - tell me if you would think it would make a good actual story. :3 I'll continue the normal story soon I just needed a sort of break from it <3

The fire roars in the distance, Bradley doesn't look back. Does he want to look cool or does he just not have the guts to? Nobody will know. The finish line is only a couple meters away he can practically taste it. The heat from the sheer size of the blaze covers his back, the light reaching down the track. Smoke puffs up into the air.

He doesn't care. He needs to win. Win win win. That stupid Max good thinking he can better him. No. Nobody can beat THE Bradley Uppercrust III, his ego as big as the disaster that is unraveling behind him.

Max coughs. The ash covering his lungs in a thick coat. Tank needs his help. He dashes through the array of flames and metal poles, eyes quickly darting onto a struggling Tank stuck under a thick metal pole. Quick. Max runs towards him, trying to tug him out the flames quickly before they engulf him and everything else. Tank lets out a wheezy cough.

"Ma-" he coughs again, ash sprawling pit his mouth, eyes dazed and breathing heavy. "Max.. get out of here while you still can.."

"No..! You- you need help!" Max pleads, grabbing his hand and trying his best to pull him out the mess he's stuck in. He won't budge and it's driving Max insane. Please. Move. You need to move. He can't bear to see someone die. Not if he could've saved him.

A large piece of the red fabric from the large X tent comes crashing down, clouding the entrance and no longer the exit with ash and bright orange flame. Max gulps, trying to get as much oxygen as he can while trying to pull Tank out. Still won't move. "Tank please..! We can get out of here we can..!-"

"Baby Goof just go! If you don't then neither of us will live. This is my end but not yours." He coughs again. God he must be in so much pain. Max wants to stop it.

Despite the rivalry, he needs to help him. Yes. He may of helped the obvious cheating of the Gammas and endorsed Bradley's behaviour but nobody and he means NOBODY deserves to die so.. gruesome..

"Please.. just.. try to push up.." Max himself starts to feel weak, slowly being circled into a pool of hot streams of fire. He tries to tug Tank up one more time before collapsing onto his knees.

The dirt and ash clings to the fabric of his clothes, he gasps desperately for air, grip still tight on Tanks hand as he tries so hard to reach the supplies of his basic needs but fails to get them. Another beam falls, crushing him under a flaming piece of red fabric.

The last few moments of his life are more painful than he imagines. Yelling. Crackling. Sirens. Screams. Coughing. Burning. All merges into one as he fully deflated and lies on the ground. His last thing in sight is Tank. He's lying with his eyes closed and his breathing is slowing. Slowing. Slowing. Stopped.

Max's thoughts are clouded with many things. His dad crying to the news that he's dead. Not being able to save Tank. Bradley winning. His funeral. He never got to write a will. Meet his future kids. Graduation. He will miss all of it and be written off as some 'tragic hero.' How will PJ and Bobby react? How can they live without him?

That is what he thinks of before he dies. And everything cuts off. The yells, the sirens, the heat, the stuffy feeling building up in his lungs and the pain stinging his eyes. Gone.

Bradley finishes first. Well. With all your competition dead it's not very hard to win. He stumbles off his skateboard, on his knees panting. He expected cheers, not screams.

Standing up, he turns around to see the pure carnage he's caused by his action. Firemen, nurses, police even. He straightens his posture. Wow. He did this? Somehow he doesn't feel remorse. But something captures his eye. Goofy. On his knees. Sobbing his poor old heart out. Shit.. Max went in there..?

He feels empathy, not remorse for his actions. Not guilt not even sadness. He won. Why should anything else matter? Firemen put the fire out, people going in to rescue though trapped in the fire. Tank and Max are wheeled out, he can't tel if they're dead or almost dead. His face stays blank.

He just doesn't care about them. He cares about him. Only him. Yet. There's a spark of... regret? It's a shame really. He would never have the cute Baby Goof as he towel boy. Oh well.