Max and I (A Max Schneider Fanfic)

~Chapter 17~

~Chapter 17~

 

I paced back and forth in my appartment as I waited for Max to show up. I had called him as soon as I got home. I don't understand what's taking him so long. His hotel is like only two blocks away. Mid pace the front door swung open. Max stood there panting and out of breathe for a second, then he snapped back to his senses and he slammed the door and locked it.

"Crazy- fan- mob!" He said between gasps for air.

"What happened?" I asked him.

He plopped down on the couch, still catching his breath. "Well I was in central park, then all of the sudden some crazed fan girl shouts 'OMG IT'S MAX SCHNEIDER!' and I was attacked by girls from the age of 9 to 30. Then there was this one weird old lady. It was crazy."

I couldn't help but laugh. I tried to hide it by coughing and playing it cool.

"Mary, if your gonna work for Nickelodeon you need better acting skills then that!" he commented at me trying to cover my laughing. He started to chuckle a little bit.

"Sorry. But you gotta admit it must have been a funny sight."

"Not when your running for your life- and your dignity!"

"Sorry," I appologized and managed to hide my laughs this time by looking down.

"Eh, it's cool. So talk to me. How'd it go? Why'd you call me here?" He raised one eyebrow questioning me.

"Well good. Most of it. Except that I need to write and record a song before next Tuesday, I was kinda hoping you can help me with that," I looked up and returned his questioning look.

"I can't do it for you, but I can try to help," Max replied standing up.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a huge hug.

"No prob. I don't have my ukulele with me today, and you don't have any instruments. We are gonna need a tune before we start to write. How are we gonna do this?"

I thought about this for a few minutes. Then a though hit me. Dad's guitar. He left it when he left us. It's been in a storage closet for years, and we haven't touched it since he left. My dad used to play the guitar and we would sing together when we were younger. The guitar had held alot of meaning to me. It's how I found my love of music. My dad used to let me use his guitar when Max was over and we would play music. Max would bring his ukulele and we would have a jam session.

"We do have my dad's guitar, I haven't used it since he left." I said after a few minutes of pondering.

"Oh Mary, you don't have to use it if you don't want to. I can go get my ukulele," he gave me a sympathetic look.

"No. It's alright. What good does it do sitting in a closet anyway?" I got up and walked over to the storage closet. After digging through loads of junk I finally saw the guitar case. I pulled it out and walked back to Max.

I snapped open the locks and flipped the lid. A puff of dust arose and we both gagged a little. When the dust was gone I looked into the case. There sat my dad's guitar, old and dusty.

"Can I?" Max asked me pointing to the guitar.

"Yeah," I replied. I watched him lift it out of the case, and run his fingers over the smooth wood of the guitar.

"It's beautiful," he sighed looking at the old wood.

"Yeah," I repeated. I was holding back so many emotions. I was afraid to say anything more or else the tears might start pouring out.

Max pulled the cleaning rag and some spray out of the case and started to wipe off the dust. When he was finished the wood was sparkling and glimmering in the dim light of the appartment.

He put the strap on and started to play the chords of 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' while tuning the guitar.

"My dad used to play me that song," I commented before realising what I said.

Max smiled at me, and closed his eyed. He started to sing the song. I felt tears come to my eyes because this was my favorite song. My dad sang it to me whenever I was scared, or sad, or mad, or anytime I needed to be cheered up. If I was sick he'd sing it to me so I can calm down. I felt a tear escape my eye and slide down my face.

"Oh, Mary. I'm so sorry," Max stopped playing and wiped off my run-away tear.

"It's not your fault, none of it is," I sighed.

"I feel as if it all was. I know what you went through when your father left, and I know what you went through when I left. Mary leaving you was the stupidest this I have ever done, and the biggest mistake I have ever made. I know your hurting, and I hurt you. I know I gan never fill that gap in your life but I can only try," Max held my hand in his.

"Max your the best friend anybody can ask for. You have already done so much for me. You are the best thing that's happened to me. And I know you want to make everything perfect in my life. But that's something that won't happen. And it doesn't need to happed. Because I'm happy with what I have right now. And instead of wishing for what we can't have we should be thankful for what we do have. And I have you."

"And you always will. I promise never to leave you again."

"I don't know what I would do if you did."

"That's why I won't," he gave me a reassuring look.

Just then and idea hit me. I smiled. "Good. Now get your guitar ready. Because we have a song to write."