So here is my new story hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

Chapter 1

Walking through the streets of New York, I was seeing how much my life sucked. Today was a Wednesday night, one of the slowest days in my type of job. You always find customers but it was hardest today, and if you did find customers they wouldn't pay as good. Fridays and Saturdays were the best.

As I was saying, here in the streets, in the wait for someone to pick you up, you have time to think about all the things that are wrong in your life. Mine is a little bit fucked up.

My name is Maxine Martinez but my clients know me as Maximum Ride. I owned that name since I was 14, and right now my name is a legend on this streets. Names in here change. When you become what I am, you are transformed. You acquire a new name, which symbolizes your new identity. We call our selves by the new name, because that way is easier to forget what you were and remember what you are.

I've become a celebrity in these streets. Some people come from far away to hire my services. It makes me proud, not every girl or guy in my type of job has that kind of fame.

I've worked here since I was fourteen; I'm seventeen right now. I have every type of clients, from young guys to old pedophiles whose ages can't be calculated by years and the occasional women, which are the rarest, but they paid well.

Everyone in this business knows each other. Behind every one of us there is a story. We never asked about anyone's past. I don't know if it is because we don't like to remember our own story or because it is better off that way, or so you don't get attach to anyone. Whatever reason it is, secrecy is our only right and law.

People in this business die very often, so we try not to have very strong friendships. I think that after everything we see daily, that is the least of our concerns.

I didn't pay much attention to the friendship rule, but yes to the past law. In fact I have a pretty good friend. Her name, her real name, is Monique but she's known in the business as Nudge. She's three years younger than me. She's one of the sweetest and most innocent girls that I've met in my life, not that I've met that many girls in that matter and much less rightfully raise. I don't know how she ended up like this, but who ever made this happen must be the worst creature in the planet.

I don't know anything about Nudge's past and she doesn't know anything about mine. It's a fair exchange for friendship. Here it get's lonely sometimes, that's why I preferred to talk to someone who could understand what I've been passing through. But she was the one who talked the most. She loved to talk about the most useless things, but at least it filled the silence. Sometimes it felt good to care about these stupid things and forget about the reality of our life's for at least five minutes.

I know how I ended up here and I wasn't proud of it. Well, who can be proud of this?

Every time you do this job it hurts, every time you feel less human and every time you close more your heart. The only person that I feel something for is Nudge. I try to protect her. But how can you fix something that have been broken a lot and for so long.

Absorbed in my thought's I continue wondering around the streets. Like I said it was slow night. Finally a black car stopped right next to me and the driver opened the passenger door. That was the routine. They opened the door, I climbed in, told them the prize, and if accepted they take me to a new location were I end my job; after that they take me back to were they found me and I walk back to my house. If it can be call a house.

There was only one man in the car. Thank what ever is out there. Sometimes, the worst times, were when it was a group of hormonal teenagers looking for group sex which was the worst and the most painful.

Since today was a slow night I lowered the prize.

"Forty-five dollars for the hour," I told him. He just nodded.

I couldn't see him well. He was dress in all black and I couldn't distinguish his facial features because it was too dark. The car was very well treated, and it didn't smell of beer, cigarettes, or drugs. Now that was unusual. The guys who pick me up in cars like this most of the times were either politics or wealthy guys who were cheating on their poor wives. At least guys like this leaved good tips.

I made myself comfortable and putted my seatbelt on. He retrieved his foot from the brake and putted pressure on the gas pedal.

As the cars passed by the streetlights I could see him more clearly. He had long black hair and olive tanned skin. He had broad shoulders and a strong jaw line. He never looked at me. He didn't have that lust filled aura around him that most of the guys had when they picked me up. This guy was different.

Finally we made it to a motel named Perle du Mer. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. He stepped out of his car and quickly made it to my door opening it for me. Now that was new.

As I stepped out I cleared my mind of everything else in my life. I even discarded these weird observations that I made of him. We made it to the lobby and he paid for a room. As we walked towards the room the only thing that passed through my mind was:

"I'm Maximum Ride and I'm a prostitute. I have to go to work now."