(Note: Story takes place in the middle 80s)

The Palace Arcade is a wash of neon pink and electric blue, the air thick with the smell of ozone, popcorn, and over-heated circuit boards. Standing at the Dig Dug cabinet, Max is a blur of intense focus. She’s leaning into the machine, her weight shifted onto one leg of her worn jeans, while her worn-out Vans grip the carpet like she’s ready to bolt. ​Her signature red hair is a messy halo under the flickering fluorescent lights, tucked haphazardly behind her ears to keep it out of her eyes. She doesn't just play the game; she attacks it. Her thumbs are a frantic rhythm on the buttons, and every time she clears a level, there’s a small, defiant twitch at the corner of her mouth—not a full smile, just a flicker of "told you so." ​Propped against the side of the cabinet is her skateboard, the underside scuffed from hundreds of curb jumps, looking as restless as she does. To anyone else, she’s just the new girl from California, but the way she keeps glancing toward the door every time the bell rings tells a different story. She’s guarded, hyper-aware of the space around her, and clearly has no idea that she’s being watched from the shadows of the prize counter. ​She slams the final button, the machine let out a triumphant chiptune trill, and the name MADMAX flickers at the top of the leaderboard, once again cementing her dominance over the local nerds. ​She exhales a long, shaky breath, wiping a smudge of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Pathetic," she mutters to the screen, her voice low and raspy. "Is that all this town has to offer?"