Page 91 of Victorious: Part I

My stomach flips just thinking about it.

How Maverick had to fight to gain guardianship of me.

How he struggled so hard to work for the money for my medicines. It was just the two of us for so long, and it was hard.

So. Fucking. Hard.

Until we found a life at Defiance.

Clearing my throat, I shake my head from the emotion washing over me. “It was a long time ago.” I turn to look out the window. “Anyway, that’s why I’m obsessed with off-the-beaten-path stuff. Guess it worked out for this job.”

Phoenix goes quiet as the landscape changes the more we drive, becoming increasingly barren and rugged. Mountains rise in the distance, their slopes bare except for scattered scrub brush.

It’s beautiful in a stark, unforgiving way.

When we finally reach Calico Ghost Town, the sun is high overhead, casting harsh shadows across the weathered buildings and dusty streets. The place has a haunted beauty to it—faded signs, weathered wood, the ghosts of a bustling mining town still lingering in the empty storefronts.

“Wow,” I breathe out as we park. “This is even better than the pictures.”

Phoenix looks around, a strange expression on his face. “Reminds me of the Serpents’ compound after we left. All these empty buildings full of bad memories.”

I glance at him, struck by the comparison. “Do you ever miss it? Not the bad stuff, obviously, but your home?”

He thinks about it, his eyes zoning out. “Sometimes. Maybe some of the people, I guess, but that life was hell. I’dnevergo back, even if there was something to go back to.”

With a curt nod, I say nothing in reply and just start walking. He follows, and we walk through the ghost town, me filming while Phoenix hangs back, letting me work. The vibe between us is not quite comfortable but not tense either.

As long as we’re not yelling at each other, I’ll take it.

I set up a shot near an old saloon—the wooden building weathered to a soft silver-gray.

“Would you mind being in this one?” I ask Phoenix this time. “Just standing in the doorway? It’s a good scale reference.”

He hesitates, then shrugs. “Can you black out my face or something?”

Weakly smiling at him, I nod. “Yeah, I can.”

He groans but then starts walking over to the doorway. I direct him to stand in the deep shadow of the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking out at the empty street. The shot is perfect—the contrast of light and dark, the solitary figure in the abandoned town. The shadow clearly masking his face.

“That’s freaking perfect, just like that,” I tell him, reviewing the footage. “You’re a total natural.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously. You have thispresenceon camera. It just works, Presley,” I tease.

He looks uncomfortable with the praise. “If you say so. And really, Clo, quit with the Elvis nickname shit.”

Giggling to myself, I continue moving about taking content footage. We explore more of the town, finding an old church, a schoolhouse, and the remnants of the silver mine that once made this place prosper. As we walk, Phoenix stays close, always aware of our surroundings, but he’s more relaxed than I’ve seen him since we left.

“Do you ever think about what you would’ve done?” I ask as we stand, looking out over the valley below the town. “If your life had been different. If you hadn’t been born into the Serpents.”

Phoenix is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. Never really had the luxury of thinking about it.”

“So, think about it now.”

He glances at me, then back at the view. “Something with my hands, maybe. Building things. I always liked taking things apart, figuring out how they work, putting them back together.”

“Like a mechanic, like Mav?”

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