A/N: Hello again! Sorry but this story isn't going to be as long. I realised I was just dragging it out unecessarily soooo it has maybe six more chapters to go, if that? I'm not really sure, but there will be that and then an epilogue. And yeah, it's been a bit all over the place but it's getting there. I'll probably end up editing this entire story at some stage in the future but for now we will just have to deal with it as is! So I apologize for it not being up to standards but I have already written two chapters and they are - if I do say so myself - FLIPPING AWESOME!! So just be patient grasshoppers! Sorry, I'm tired. Anyway, here's the chapter! It's an interesting Max chapter and I hope you enjoy it! 

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I sat in the car, tapping my hands on the steering wheel nervously. 

I was sitting in front of Max's house with jeans, an oversized sweater, glasses on, make-up off, and my hair in a bun. 

I wasn't trying to repulse him, truly. But this was our deal. I had to be the real me and he had to be the real him. We were leaving our masks out of this. 

You can't wait in the car forever. Just go up to the front door and knock, as usual. It's just a normal afternoon and I'm going to my best friend's house. 

Who I was secretly in love with, but let's not get into that. 

I took a calming breath and walked up to the front door, knocking hesitantly. 

When the door swung open, I had to take a step back in surprise. 

I hadn't known what to expect from the real Max, but it wasn't this. 

He had a pair of glasses pushed up to the top of his head and was wearing a pair of sweats and a gaming t-shirt. Actually, now that I properly read it, it was a nerdy pun.

Homonyms are a reel waste of thyme. 

"T-this was no-ot was I was expecting," Max stuttered, looking as nervous as I felt. 

I really wasn't sure whether I should take that as a compliment or an insult, but I decided it didn't really matter. I had thought the same thing about him anyway. 

"How come you're stuttering?" I asked, frowning. "You don't stutter much, really."

He scratched the back of his neck. "I-I only really s-stutter when I'm nerv-vous, now."

Awh, that was actually adorable. "And the glasses?" I asked, pointing to the ones on his head while we walked to the attic.

"Only for r-reading."

"Oh."

We climbed the stairs to the attic and got settled on either end of the couch, looking at each other. "Uh, how about qna?" I suggested, thinking it would be the best option for something like today. 

"Okay," he breathed, probably calming himself. 

I knew exactly why he was nervous, just as I was. It's because we were both so used to wearing our masks 24/7, that taking them off and exposing ourselves made us vulnerable, unprotected. Our emotions bubbling to the surface without us masking them with something else. 

I don't know. It was strange, but it felt so nice to not have to pretend.

"Uh, I d-don't really have a question," Max mumbled, leaning back against the couch. He seemed more relaxed than normal, more free. 

"Okay," I smiled. "I'll go. What is something no one knows about you?" I asked, quite proud of my question. 

"I'm kind of a b-book nerd," he didn't look away but I could tell he wanted to, his cheeks were painted with a light pink. "Same question to you."

Rolling my eyes at his fantastic question I thought about my answer. It was really difficult because Max knew almost everything about me. Almost.

"I like music because of the words, not the beat. If it has bad lyrics but an awesome beat, I won't like it."

It was random, but it was the only thing I could think of that no one else knew. It's not that I was an open person, but Max knew nearly everything.

He nodded in understanding, scratching his head. "Do you wish you didn't have to wear your mask all the time?" 

I nodded without even thinking about it. 

Without a doubt. Masks were a pain in the ass but without it, my feelings were too exposed, too easy to break. 

"Why do you have your mask?"

I didn't want to ask that question, but it had been bugging me for too long to not ask. And he didn't have to tell me if he didn't want to, but I wanted to know. I felt that if I knew this, I would know Max so much better. 

Max looked slightly taken aback and I could tell he was itching to slip his mask back on. But he didn't. Instead, he just took a few deep breaths, fidgeting with his shirt and his hair, then moved on to thrumming his fingers on his leg nervously. 

"You don't have to say if you don't-"

"No, I should say this," he said, avoiding all eye contact with me. "Okay," he took another breath. "My Dad was a really great person until I turned ten, which is when he started drinking."

I could tell Max was trying to hold all his raw emotions inside of him, but they were already on their way out. I could hear them through his voice. 

Strangely enough though, he wasn't nervous. His voice flowed smoothly without interruption. 

"He had a serious problem. At the start, none of us really noticed. But then," Max visibly flinched, squeezing his eyes shut tightly at the memory. 

I saw a single tear trickle down his face but didn't comment. 

"Then he came home one night, after an evening at the pub."

Oh no. 

"Dustin and I were waiting up for him. Mum and the girls had gone away and we needed a parent to tuck us into bed and say goodnight to us before we slept. Sure, Dustin was 12 but he still needed someone. So we waited until he got home, well after midnight.

"He stumbled into the house. He wasn't a happy drunk. I can remember the stern expression he had when he walked in," he paused, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. "Dustin and I were so happy that he was home, so we ran to give him a hug, when he hit us."

Oh dear God no. 

My own eyes were tearing up and I yearned to reach out and squeeze my arms around him and let him get it all out. 

"That night, he only hit us once. But as the drinking got worse, so did the hits. We got all of it because we wouldn't let him hit Hazel and Hayley."

His breathing faltered and he finally looked up at me, not trying to conceal the tears that ran in a steady stream down his cheeks, his eyes looking brighter than ever, but not in a good way. 

"The last time I saw him was when I was twelve and he had a metal baseball bat two inches from my skull." Max ran his hand through his hair. "The only thing that stopped the bat was his brother, my uncle, who saw what was happening and stopped the bat, taking my dad out of the house and never letting him back in."

My heart went out to him, and Dustin. I had no idea. 

And Max was still looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Or do something. So I basically jumped on him and enveloped myself in his arms. I squeezed him so hard that I doubt he could breath easily, but they were the best kinds of hugs in a time like this. 

.

I don't know how long we stayed lying on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. But at one point Max kissed my hair and let me go, not smiling fakely when he thanked me. 

It was hard to go back to qna after that, but Max insisted that we try, so I did. For him. Because it's clearly what he needed. 

"So, you like books?" I asked, looking around at the shelves filled with paperbacks. 

Max shot me a dubious look. "One does not simply like books," he said, rolling his eyes. "Either you love them or you hate them."

I laughed, completely agreeing. 

We talked for hours, mostly about books and music and our 'favourites'. I had to admit, seeing Max like this was something else. He was a dorky, quiet book lover, but there was still a lot of his mask that carried over into his personality; like the teasing and the pick up lines.

"Max!" I heard someone call, then I heard footsteps up the stairs and finally saw Hayley appear at the entrance, her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. 

"Oh, hey Rylie!" She exclaimed, a smile lighting her face. "Are you staying for dinner?" Her eyes sparked with excitement and when I turned to see Max, his face showed the same expression. I couldn't deny such faces, so I nodded. 

"Well come on! It's ready!" She turned on her heel and dissapeared down the stairs, leaving us to slowly follow her. 

Just as we got to the bottom of the attic stairs, Max grabbed my arm to stop me. 

"What?" I asked, curious at the almost nervous look on his face. 

"Can you do me a favour?" He asked, and I assumed it woud be about not telling anyone about his dad. Which was competely understandable. It's not like I had anyone to tell anyway. 

"Sure." I nodded.

"Can you not wear make up more often?" He asked, surprising and confusing me.

Why am I always confused?? It's no fair! 

"Why?" 

He started to walk slowly down the stairs as he explained. "Because make up is for the bimbos and you're not one of them," he said, smiling. "Oh, and because your freckles are cute." He added with a wink. 

I couldn't stop the butterfly's from fluttering their wings in my stomach as I followed him to the kitchen. 

Dustin and Hayley were the only one's there so I asked where Imogen and Hazel were. 

"Oh, Mum's at Hazel's piano recital in the city," Hayley explained, handing Max and I bowls of pasta, which smelled amazing. 

"Hazel plays piano?" I asked curiously. 

"Yeah! She's actually pretty good," Dustin confirmed with a mouth full of pasta. 

"Do you play anything?" Hayley asked, thankfully without a mouth full unlike her twin. 

"Yeah, piano as well," I smiled then started eating. 

It was delicious. Simple as that. 

"Yeah and she's amazing!" Max added with an almost proud smile. "You should play after dinner!"

I shrugged off the compliment but they all persisted that I had to play, so I caved. 

We kept talking for the rest of dinner, Dustin not hesitating to talk with a mouth full at every possible chance. 

I did end up playing piano for them, then proceeded to teach Dustin how to play the two handed version of twinkle twinkle little star. But only because he begged. Literally. 

Unfortunately I had to go home, so I left the twins to the piano and twinkle twinkle while Max walked me out.

"Goodnight," I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck, which he responded by putting his hands on the small of my back. 

"Night Ry," he whispered, then kissed my hair and let me go. 

"See you tomorrow," I called over my shoulder, smiling all the way back to my car. 

"Yeah, bye!"

Tomorrow, where we would have our masks back on. Max would return to the obnoxious, loud, flirty popular guy while I would return to my own version of the mask. 

All of a sudden I wished that we didn't need our masks, that we were strong enough to get rid of them for good. 

But we weren't, at least, not yet.