Why, hello there! This is an MR fix but definitely (obviously) AU. This is just a fun story that popped into my head. I don't mean to copy any other works, but I haven't seen any like this...so! Are you guys ready for adventure and love?
Disclaimer for whole story said one time because it gets annoying: I do not own Maximum Ride or the Bachelor. All credit goes to the respectful owners.
However, I do claim right to this plot and a few of the characters.
Without further ado, I present the Max and the Bloody Hands
Another camera flashed, leaving the overwhelmed blonde dazed from the harsh bright light. The paparazzi had been snapping their fancy cameras all night, desperate to capture the exciting moment to publish in the tabloids for all of America to see and gossip about. Of course, they weren't allowed outside the limo, where the irritating light would ruin the filming, so they took all they could to document the first night of meeting the Bachelor.
The Bachelor.
That was new for Maximum Martinez, who had never watched the show until she had been signed up and accepted as a bachelorette. It was honestly for publicity; an up-and-coming author needed some form of advertisement, and her publisher had told her that the Bachelor was one of the most watched reality shows in the nation. Reluctantly, Max auditioned. She didn't think herself shallow enough to stoop to a reality show for her own fame, yet there she was, smiling and taking pretty photos along with hundreds of others. She felt out of her element, in a different skin, and she mourned that this wasn't a sports competition or a movie convention.
Turns out, she was pretty good TV material.
She was just as surprised as the other 26 girls in the competition when she was notified that she had been chosen, but the delight was momentary as soon as she read in the contract of the clothing requirements.
Max only owned one dress in her entire life, and that was senior prom. Dresses repulsed her. They were constricting contraptions that were honestly a waste of money. She preferred band shirts and jeans, but she knew she had a slim chance of lasting long if she chose a sloppy outfit; her style had to change.
For this, Max mourned.
For this, Ella, Max's sister, celebrated.
Ella had been waiting, praying, for the day of Max's major makeover, and had wasted no time in dragging her to countless stores, trying on countless clothes, and spending what felt like a countless amount of money. Max, completely unsure of what was "in trend" and what was "garbage" let her little sister control the situation. Ella knew the reason of Max's decision to enter, and while she understood and supported it, she was excitedly hoping her big sister would finally fall in love. At 24 years old and having only one boyfriend, Ella found it time for Max to open a little room in her heart.
Max scoffed at this; there was no room left for love in her heart.
Not since him.
She decided not to speak his name anymore. A flurry of emotions washed over her as she reminisced of the man who first captured her mind and heart. Most of the feelings now were red hot fury and dreary blue pain, but many times a silvery wistfulness would arise.
The point was that Max didn't believe in love anymore.
And with that happy and encouraging thought, the limo stopped. The seven other girls in the car squealed and squished themselves into the tinted windows to catch a glimpse of their future boyfriend awaiting in the courtyard before the massive mansion. Max didn't bother with trying to clamber over to slip a glance at him; she'd see him soon enough. She resisted the urge to vomit when she heard lovestruck and cliché phrases like "Oh! He's just as sexy as in the pictures!" and "He's so dreamy!" Preferring the surprise, Max had not searched up who the bachelor was this season and what he looked like.
The manager, holding a clipboard and pen in hand, called out the first girl's name. "Nicole Herrera," she said, nodding to a pretty brunette in a long blue dress. The tan-skinned woman squealed and stepped out of the limo. The other ladies watched in tense apprehension as Nicole went straight up to the black-haired suitor and hugged him, looping her arms around her neck. Before pulling away, she snuck a swift peck on his right cheek. Unsurprisingly, the girls in the limo gasped, but Nicole was led away soon enough and the next girl, Maya Blue, stepped out to meet the man.
The list became shorter and shorter as more girls left. Finally, Maximum Martinez was the last bachelorette left in the last limo. The manager looked up at her and smiled politely, saying, "Well, Maximum, it's your turn. Last but not least."
Max turned to the polo-clad woman and asked, "Any last minute tips?"
The manager's cheeks lifted into a more genuine smile. "Be as exciting but real as possible."
Max almost wanted to scoff. That would be pretty hard considering she didn't want to date this random dude, and she couldn't afford to be sent home on the first night. "Real" would have to sit this one out.
Thanking the manager, Max opened the door. She felt her heart thump as she put one golden stiletto on the uneven stone ground, then the other. Stepping completely out, she stood for a couple of moments, gazing at the tall man standing quite a few feet in front of her.
He was certainly not unattractive, she admitted to herself, before feeling a light blush tint her cheeks as she saw him take her in, drawing his eyes up and down, appreciating the lacy green dress she was wearing.
Max didn't know much about makeup, but she hoped it covered blushes.
Looking away for a moment, she flipped her curled hair over her shoulder and began the stroll over to the bachelor. She picked her head up and confidently met his dark dark eyes, a wide (though fake) smile adorning her pretty face. It almost felt as if she were gliding, which surprised her since she had always had trouble walking in heels, and-
Her stiletto caught on an uneven stone and down went Max.
The sporty dirty-blonde tumbled ungracefully forward and hit the ground hard with her two hands. She stayed stunned on the cold stone for a few moments before laughing at herself, and once she started laughing, she couldn't stop. Here she was, meeting what was allegedly her potential husband, and she's falling like fish fall down a waterfall.
Suddenly, there was a hand on her bare shoulder, and she looked up to see the man gazing down at her with amusement in his eyes and a small smirk lifting his cheeks. He was undoubtedly sexy, Max decided, and her giggles quickly faded away.
He offered both his hands to her and helped her up; stumbling, she was shocked by his strength. Recovering quickly, she dusted off her dress-thankfully not torn- and started the conversation.
"Well," she stated with a smile both of embarrassment and confidence, "that was a perfect first impression, wasn't it?"
"Only if your dress had torn," he joked, "but you score points for the blood." Max glanced down to see her scraped and most definitely bloody palms. Oh, she thought, that's great. Blood on the first night. I can already tell this is gonna be a bloodbath.
"I made you fall, didn't I?" he continued, winking at her. "I mean, I am quite the sight, but I never imagined that when the producers said girls would fall for me, they meant the ladies would literally fall at my feet." At that, Max laughed, her nose scrunching up. He was actually funny, and obviously witty, and the young author could appreciate wit that could counter her own.
"I hope you don't expect me to fall every time I see you now. I'm Max." She wasn't sure whether to wave or shake his hand or hug, but he took control and reached down to hug her. Max let her arms hook around his neck, her fingers lightly tugging at the hair at the nape. Then, to Max's slight disappointment, he pulled away.
"Max...as in Maxine? Or just Max, like the boy's name?" he questioned, cocking an eyebrow.
"Maximum Martinez. That's my full name," she offered, resisting the urge to reply with a snarky comment about his own name, before remembering she didn't know it.
His eyes lit up in interest. "Wow. I've never heard a name like that before."
"Yea, my mom had an interesting taste in names," but I'm the only child with an odd name, she wanted to add. Max opened her mouth to ask the man a question, but the producers in the background were signaling to him to hurry it up.
Sighing, he looked down at her. "It's been a pleasure talking to you, Max." She nodded silently, sending a close-lipped smile before turning to walk away. All of a sudden, he snatched her wrist, whipping her back around. She was about to go off on him for grabbing her when he held up both her palms and kissed them, sucking the blood off the skin. The action sent ripples of chills down her body, from her cheeks to her toes. She stared, unsure, as he pulled away.
Shaking her head, a smirk replaced the gape. "Sucking my blood? That's a new flirting technique," she commented.
He smiled-actually smiled- and shook his head, responding with, "I'm secretly a vampire and I want to feast on your blood."
"You know what? I'm going to call you Fang."
"I didn't bite you," he protested with a smiling scoff.
"Not yet." Max bit her lip and winked, ignoring the disgusted feeling that rose in her stomach. Fang seemed to like that answer, and nodded thoughtfully.
"I think I like that better than Nicholas."
So that's his name, Max thought, then told him, "I do too. I'll see you soon, Fang."
And she left and headed into the cocktail party that awaited her.
And end first chapter. Hope you all enjoyed! Leave a review! Comment about it! Thanks for reading XD Don't be afraid to ask questions! I would love to answer them, as long as they don't give the plot away ;)
Song of the Chapter:
New Romantics by Taylor Swift
Until next time,
~Hunter