Max Calder was an acquired taste. Used to, in elementary school, he was average goofy little boy.

Your moms were close friends, often forcing you to hang out all of the time. He was always a bully but somehow by the time high school rolled around y’all were fast friends—so close and yet you bickered constantly. Bullying each other as the closest of friends often do.

Now as adults things weren’t much different. He had his own place to get away from his family while you still mooched off of yours.

The biggest thing was the different ways your lives have strayed. While y’all were still in the same city you couldn’t be more different. Your bubbly girlish personality was a total opposite to his grungy dark aesthetic.

Between singing for an underground death metal band and working at the local occult shop, much of his free time was spent doing less than legal activities.

“The hell are you whining about this time?” He asked with an annoyed glare as you rushed into his apartment in a not so uncommon distraught and frenzied manner.