"Know that when you leave
By blood about me I fall when you leave
So tell me when you hear my heart stop
So tell me when my sigh is over
You're the reason why I'm closed
Tell me when you hear me falling
There's a possibility it wouldn't show"*
"Oww" I muttered, as the sunlight streamed through the curtains I had so cleverly forgotten to shut last night. I rolled over, burying my head in the pillow. My eyes seared with the aftermath of the too-bright light. I closed them, trying to find sanctuary in the darkness. Ten minutes later, I had almost recovered. I inched my eyes open, trying to get used to the brightness, then swung myself up and out of the bed. I padded to the door, and went to find Angel. She was up. I knew she would be. Her sleek blonde head of hair was bent over her laptop and she was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice me come in.
"Hi, Honey!" I whispered when I was right behind her. She jumped slightly, then caught sight of me and raised her eyebrows, looking unimpressed.
"Did you know," she whispered back at me, ignoring my smile, "our earning for last year grossed at around eight billion dollars? Well, at exactly that." She smiled at me, a small, quiet smile, and I gave a low whistle.
"Seriously?" She nodded eagerly and gestured to the screen, which held some complex-looking chart.
"And our total expenses were only three point four billion. So we have an extra four point six billion for this year. Just in case…" She smiled and I smoothed down her already-immaculate straightened hair.
"That's my little junior accountant" I whispered. Because Angel was only eleven. Only eleven, and yet she could easily sort out all of our finances-which, nowadays, were a lot- and invent and build all of our 'Saving-the-world-a-tronic-thingys' as I called them, purely because I had forgotten the shmancy names Angel used for them. Now that she had turned her mind to good, that is. I padded on, past her, and peeped past the thin, floaty fabric that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, hiding the corner: Nudge's room. Yes, Nudge slept in the kitchen, on a thick mattress covered with about five different pinky, purpley satin duvets. Which, right now, were twisted around the sleeping form of sixteen-year-old Nudge, whose face was streaked with smudged mascara/eyeliner/stuff and was still wearing her clothes from yesterday. I guessed she had been having another designing marathon, for Wings, her latest fashion range. Why stuff designed by a world-saving, mutant, flying kid was so popular, I had no idea. Or stuff with long rips down the back for the wearers 'wings' to come through. But it was. And, I guessed, the more people wearing FairTrade, organic, sustainable clothing, the better. And Nudge loved it. And also modelled it (Which led to a lot of bird-kid interview offers. Too many, let me tell you. And yes, that was us on that last issue of Seventeen. And no, if I had known that I was going to be bribed, blackmailed and mind-controlled into wearing sequinned hotpants, I wouldn't have gone.). Hence the reason she had set up camp in the huge kitchen, right next the large corner she had devoted to mannequins, sequins, buttons and glitzy things in general. Without consulting anyone, of course. But she was obviously deep asleep, so I left her to it, neat ringlets spread over her many pillows. I walked back over to the table and sat down opposite Angel. Now that Nudge had moved, Angel had a whole room to herself, which helped whenever she went into science mode. Iggy had taken over my room, after it became apparent that Gazzy didn't get on better with Dylan, but preferred Dylan minutely- purely because he was easier to take advantage of- and so I had ended up in Fang's old room. Because neither me nor Angel were going to let anyone else in there. That was our room. But it was still painful. To say the least. So Gazzy and Dylan shared a room. Which, I had to admit, was nice of Dylan, bearing in mind the constant explosions. And the smell. I was still sitting there in silence with Angel, just letting my mind wander randomly, when Iggy appeared. He took one look at us, and Nudge's vague sleeping figure, and walked over to the cupboards, ruffling my hair slightly as he went. How Iggy, of all people, had become a sort of older-brotherly figure to me, I had no idea. It was slightly creepy, to be honest. But hey.
"Checked the blog yet?" he asked, looking up from the disappointing array of food. Yes, we still had a blog. No, it wasn't the same one Fang had set up all those years ago. We had just created a new one. Because, well, it was a good idea. And there was no way Fang could not know about it. And if he ever wanted to know how we were doing, well…
"Okay," I sighed, grabbing a random laptop of the nearest couch. We had eleven top-of-the-range computers in our revamped millionaire's house. Along with a Jacuzzi (which, from the red bikini she wore under her floaty white smock, I guessed Angel was heading to next), computerised everything and lots of fluffy white cushiony things. And that is really just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to our newly-acquired possessions. Without even mention Gazzy's 'top secret' explosive laboratory.
"Gazzy and Lili down in the Lab?" I asked as I logged in to mine and Iggy's blog. Yes, our 'name' for Dylan is Lili. Why, I have no idea. It just fits, y'know?
"I assume so," He murmured back, intently scanning the yes, computerised panel in the wall that displayed every recipe he could ever need, locatable in seconds. "The house is all quiet, so yeah…" He trailed off. Because yes. After a very complicated operation- thankfully, Angel was in control- involving peeling eyeballs, Iggy can see! And, believe me, he uses that new ability to it's full extent.
Welcome to ______ 's blog (nope, we still haven't decided on a name)!
You are visitor number: 670,800,592
Today's date: Who actually freaking cares?
Hi!
Umm...Ig told me to blog, so…
Probably not such a good idea, this time in the morning, Ig….*yawns*
Anyway…News on the Flock front of things- Nudge and Angel have a new power! As in, both of them harnessing their powers and combining them. Scary, I know. And also really cool. So now they can …oh, Angel says that "that's insider information" and I can't tell you guys. Because we have a plan…muahahahahaha…
Max
A few hours and many lost computer games later, Nudge got up, wading through the thick, fluffy leopard print pillows towards us. She poked her head through the drapes and sniffed.
"Breakfast?" she asked me hopefully.
"Maybe…if you at least try to get that muck off your face…..and maybe change clothes?" I smiled at her. "But then? Yes."
She squeaked in horror, bringing her hands up to her face and feeling the streaks of makeup. She flung herself out of the room, hurtling towards the nearest bathroom.
"Hmmm…" I murmured after her, just as Gazzy and Lili walked in, hands completely blackened by whatever explosive they'd been poking around with. Iggy turned away from the stove, and with a firm "wash hands. Now." In the direction of the boys, placed several full plates of pancakes onto the table.
In a few seconds they were back, accompanied by Nudge, practically salivating over the sight of the food.
"Mmmmm…" Angel projected into my brain, her mouth bulging.
"I know" I thought back. "The boy's a genius." She smiled at me, thankfully keeping her mouth shut. Full view of three pancakes, semi-chewed. No thanks. No matter how heavenly they might be. We carried on munching, easily clearing our plates…once…twice…
"Would someone please pass the plate?" Asked Nudge, beaming her kilowatt supermodel smile. I reached to pick it up, only to have Dylan's hand whip out super-fast and give it to her. Like it was a race or something. And then winked at her.
"Oh. My. God." Thought Angel. "Did I really just see what I thought I saw???"
"Umm…if it was a certain Lili winking at a certain Nudge, then…yes…." I thought back. I casually glanced over at her, making my eyes huge when she made eye contact. She gave a tiny nod, tilting her head to the side a little.
"I know…????"
"Well….I guess it makes sense…the supermodel girl and the guy who could be a supermodel?" I lifted my shoulders slightly, then dropped them, pulling a convincingly absent-minded 'meh' face.
My head was suddenly full of peals of Angel-style giggling.
"OMG," she thought through the giggles "why is that so funny??"
"Um…maybe cos it's so weird that we didn't see it coming?" I wondered.
"True…" She murmured, the word echoing around my head.
I glanced at her, and met her shiny eyes, and was suddenly overcome with the urge to laugh. Seriously overcome. She stuck her tongue out at me, just a sliver. I snorted, spitting my juice out onto the table, and dissolved into hysterics, to be joined by Angel. I gradually gagged to a stop, and looked up into four pairs of bemused looking bird-kid eyes. The confused expressions on their faces were enough to get us giggling again. God, I hadn't laughed in so long…
Welcome to ______'s blog (nope, we still haven't decided on a name)!
You are visitor number: 670,800,592
Today's date: I freaking care!!! (Sorry, Max)
Hey.
Sooo, big news! Are you guys ready for it? You sure? Like, ready for a new bird-kid couple splashing across the pages of your teen magazine soon? Prepare yourselves for… Dudge! Or even Nylan!
Yep, that is the latest flock gossip…but shhhh…., cos it's not official. Yet. But yeah… comments?
Max.
*Random extract (but I chopped out some less-relevant lines) from the song Possibility by Lykke Li- Yep, I knew the spell-check wouldn't like that…
Ages-
Max-19
Fang-19
Iggy-19
Dylan-19 (or, like, 9. whatever.)
Nudge-16
Gazzy-13
Angel-11
Hey- just listening to 'If we ever meet again' as I write….is it just me or does that kinda fit the end of Fang?
Oh, yeah, thought I'd say- I have all the chapters of this story typed out and ready to post. So I can do that anytime. And I'm thinking the more people review, the quicker I'll post. Cos I'm so sick of posting a new story, getting, like, 200 hits, then checking the reviews and having 5. It's not that hard, people. Just say if you like it or not.
Faith
p.s. Could you be nice? Because by tomorrow, when I check it, I will have had at least three needles jabbed in my arm…did I mention I have a phobia of needles?