Max POV:

The dressing room door shuts with a click and I sink down to the ground with an exhausted moan.

This double life is draining all my energy. Balancing my two identities is like trying to stand on the tip of a knife without falling off one side.

Yup. You read that right. 2 identities.

There is the normal hum drum me: Maxine Martinez- high school student not even recognized on the popularity totem pole, crappy grades, etc.

And then there is my stage personality: Maximum Ride. Lead singer/violinist for the popular alternative band "The Angel Experiment".

You may be asking how nobody notices this; it's because of my costume. When I am Maximum Ride, I wear a feathered mask that covers half my face and a set of fake wings.

Speaking of wings, I'm crushing mine right now. I get up with a groan, pull off said wings and drop them on the floor, and shuffle over to my dressing table. I sit down and rip off the horrible torture devices (high heels) the keyboardist for our band forced me to wear. She said it was because they made my legs look longer or some other crap like that. All I know is that they cannot be worth the pain.

The aforementioned keyboardist would be Nudge. Total fashionista and blabbermouth. She has lighting fast fingers on the board.

We also have Ella on the guitar and Maya on the drums.

I don't actually know my band members true identities and they don't know mine. "Ella" put up an ad on the internet: Apply with a video of you playing your instrument and some way to contact you- no other details required. If I like what you got, I'll let you know.

I obviously applied.

I don't know everybody's stories, but we all desire and revel in the anonymity of being members of "The Angel Experiment".

I look in my vanity mirror and sigh. Not that anyone would be looking to compare Maxine to Maximum. Like I said, I'm a total social outcast- the girl who sits in the back of the class, talks to nobody, and nobody talks to.

If only they knew… No. I have kept it secret for a reason. I can't go back to that. I can't tell anybody. I can't.

Fang POV:

Just a little more shading across the neck… and stronger lines; more movement in the hair.

There. Perfect.

I set down my drawing pad and stretch the kinks out of my fingers. Looking outside the window, I see that much more time has passed than I thought. I glance at the clock and find that it is 3:30 in the morning.

Mom is gonna kill me.

I peek furtively at my drawing pad.

Well… as long as I'm already in trouble…

I need to scan and upload this newest chapter to my online manga.

"Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports" is a manga I started years ago. I have kept it up and have had millions of views and reviews. I'm a bit of an internet sensation under my alias "Fang".

Not that you would know it looking at me. I look like a high school dropout.

I have the ratty jeans, black hoody, shaggy hair thing down.

Don't let my "look" fool you though. I am actually a whiz at math and a closet trending mangaka (re: millions of views).

Not that anyone but my best friend knows that, though.

To everyone at my high school I am seen as a total Loser.

Nicholas or Fang.

It doesn't matter to me- just as long as I can be near her.

Her?

Maxine Martinez.

Max.

Killer at any sport. Athletic body. Sarcastic. Brilliant personality.

She doesn't even know I exist.

I am totally in love with her.