So, this is a letter from Max to Fang. And then possibly more letters. Possibly not. Enjoy! Or don't. That's fine too.
Dear Fang,
You broke my heart, you asshole. What the hell was your fucked up motivation to leave me? Not even just me, but the rest of the flock. Well, Angel's not herself anymore. I mean that literally. She
shape-shifted into someone else. She doesn't look like herself, and she doesn't read fly. She hasn't flown in years now. It's been five years, Fang. five. Remember how you told me you'd never leave
me again? You little bastard of a liar, you ruined us. All of us. Iggy and Gazzy don't make bombs anymore. None. They just fry their brains watching tv, and playing video games. And Nudge. Nudge,
well, Fang, Nudge left. She's gone. Iggy's heartbroken. Good job. Now you might have hurt Igs more than me. You almost killed him by leaving, and now it's your fault that Nudge left, and he's even
more hurt by that. For some reason, Dylan feels the need to stick around. Probably a good thing, actually. If it weren't for him, we would be dead, 'cause none of us are able to go to the store. Seriously,
if it weren't for Dylan, we would not be able to function between Mom's visits. She doesn't live with us, which is hard, but necessary, as she's part of our money source. Ella's in college now, at Harvard.
She's majoring in genetics and she's promising that she'll find out just how they made us. I don't really see the point, but whatever makes her happy. And it does. I think we're going down, Fang. We
aren't living. Well, we are physically alive, but we aren't really living. We're just sitting inside the house, vegging out. And you know what? It's all your fault. There's no point in going to that cliff in
twenty years, Fang, 'cause none of us are going to survive this way for very much longer. Angel's twelve. Gazzy's fourteen. Nudge is seventeen, wherever the hell she is. I hope she's happy. Anyway,
you, me and Igs are twenty. TWENTY, Fang. Do you understand what that means? The majority of my teenage years have gone by WITHOUT the most terrible awful perfect boyfriend. And that blows.
Thanks a lot.
Yours, forever,
Max.