Take Me As I Am

Fang P.O.V

Another day, another pointless concert. I looked from behind the curtains out into the crowd that had gathered. People were screaming, Posters were being held up and merchandise was being worn all over. It was enough to turn anyone's stomach or at least mine. The really sad part was that all the screaming, was reserved for yours truly, me, Nick Roderick Spears, and my for ever show off companion, James Griffith. I never actually liked my name. Those who I could actually say are my real friends called me Fang and trust me, it wasn't much.

A chant started going out into the crowd, "Nick! James! Nick! James! Nick!" I swear if it doesn't stop soon I'm going to have just get the hell out of here. It was giving me a head ache already. It was completely unreal. At least, it seemed that way to me even though I knew the crowd out there, the whole concert arena was totally real. I just really wished it wasn't.

I'll admit it, at first I loved the whole music business. Back when all it had been was my guitar, Iggy and I down in the subway. If someone saw me now they would have never thought I was that kid with the shaggy hair strumming on a guitar in the subway tunnels. They never would have guessed that Iggy was that pale blonde boy with ripped jeans beat boxing away, singing solos and playing the harmonica. Iggy's my closest friend and, if I had to be honest, my only real friend. The only friend I had before the supposed glory days.

I hope no one ever makes the connection between us then and us now. It had been better in the subway tunnel, more meaningful. Back then we had sung about different types of things and no one telling us what the hell to do or having someone manage our music. Now we had some stupid manager telling us how we ought to show off to the world. We have a band now which I won't deny is kind of cool except for the part where they would double as some sort of back up singers. No, not back up singers like you used to see all the time with Hannah Montana, the kind of vocal back ups. The ones the played instruments but didn't do around dancing. Back in the subway tunnel, we wrote on our own songs. Heck, we were lucky if we even got two of our own songs on our albums now a days.

It was nice at first when we got the whole 'I'll get you a record deal" sort of thing. Michelson had come to us while we were in the middle of one of the best songs we had ever come up with. He had stayed at the front of the small crowd that had gathered. He had stood there smiling, nodding approvingly as if that was what should have mattered most to us. At first, we had thought he was joking. When we realized he wasn't his nodding approval actually started to mean something. It meant no more having to come up with as many melodies as we could so we could earn enough money to eat. No more sleeping out in the streets, no more having to have people stare at us as if were delinquents, and no more having to use public restrooms to clean our selves. Not that Iggy had ever cared about hygiene but still. When Michelson offered, we immediately agreed.

You see, Iggy and I had been living out in the streets for two years before our manager showed up. Both our parents had kicked us out when we were fifteen. Iggy's had kicked him out because of his insane obsession with explosives. They had worn him not to blow anything else up but when the backyard shack had suddenly blown up they had it with him and kicked him out.

My parents, on the other hand, were something different. My dad had gotten fed up with me because of my supposed attitude. He said the reason I wore black was because I worshiped the devil, in fact, I was probably it's spawn. Not a very flattering description, I know. Well, technically, my parents hadn't really kicked me out. I pretty much walked out. A few days later when I saw my dad he told me never to come back. It has been pretty hard to show any emotion at all since then but it didn't matter much to me.

It did sort of bothered Michelson because he wanted me to be able to smile to my whole audience, something I refused to do. He wanted them all to fall in love with me like people usually did with their favorite artists. Then he stopped persisting when he realized people were loving Mr. Dark and mysterious Fang. The whole thing was pretty ridiculous but, hey, it's part of the business and I can't do much about it now a days, anyway.

"Fang," Fang said from behind me.

I turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"It's our time to go on out on the stage."

"Great."

I pushed my self off the wall, grabbing my guitar on my way out. As soon as Iggy and I stepped onto the stage the whole crowd went wild. Everything got a hundred times louder making my head ache worsen. One year into this and already our own music had changed. It hadn't been our choice but it happened and there wasn't much of a chance to go back. All I knew was I hated the publicity, Iggy played with it, and Michelson thrived on it. It all seemed so out of place. But one thing I kept the same was the way I started a concert. I always sang one of our songs first. Always. It made it more us.

"I watched the proverbial sunrise
Coming up over the Pacific
And you might think I'm losing my mind
But I will shy away from the specifics

Cause I don't want you to know where I am
Cause then you'll see my heart
In the saddest state it's ever been
This is no place to try and live my life

Stop right there!
That's exactly where I lost it
See that line?
Well, I never should've crossed it
Stop right there!
Well, I never should've said that
It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back

I'm sorry for the person I became
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change
I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again
Cause who I am hates who I've been
Who I am hates who I've been..."

Sometimes I just wish we could have done it all over again.


"Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
they're always complainin
always complainin
if money is such a problem
well they got mansions
think we should rob them

Fall

Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
they're always complainin
always complainin
if money is such a problem
you got so many problems
think I could solve them

Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
we'll take your clothes, cash cards, and homes
just stop complaining
Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
Lifestyles of the rich and the famous"

I smirked at the lyrics of the song. Yeah, I was all rich and famous now but I had already lived the life of an 'ordinary' person so I didn't really feel that it all applied to me. Once We were off stage I looked over at Iggy. He nodded and I walked to the back door of the back stage room. It was almost a ritual for me to go outside after every concert, provided that there weren't any of those annoying reporters. With my luck, there probably would be, especially in California. We had to stay in this town for a whole month before Michelson figured out what we would do next.

So, here I am sneaking around the building hoping I wouldn't be seen by some crazed fan girls. It all seems really stupid to me. Before all the money, the equipment, the publicity, no one seemed to really care who Nick Spear or James Griffith were. To everyone who had ever seen us before this time we were just those two hobo kids singing for money. It all changed so quickly. It made me feel empty.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't bother noticing the girl standing in the middle of the sidewalk as I turned the corner and crashed straight into her.

"Ow! What the?" The girl turned on me at the same time as she stepped into the shadows.

"Sorry," I mumbled not sure whether she had hid herself intentionally. Then again, if she had been a fan girl or a paparazzi she probably would have started bombarding me with questions.

I heard let out a frustrated sigh and then take in two deeps breaths. "No, it's okay," She sounded much more relaxed. "It's kind of my fault for standing here in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot." She stayed silent for a minute then added, "Actually, I feel a little stupid at being caught off guard while staring at some stupid poster." She stepped out of the shadows letting herself being illuminated by the street light.

I looked her over for second. She looked just an a few inches shorter than me which meant she looked pretty tall. The street light shown on her enough to show she had blonde highlights in her brown hair but not enough to see her face clearly. I looked at what she was staring at. It was a poster for mine and Iggy's concert this night. Okay maybe second thoughts about the fan girl possibility are called for...

"So much attention over two people, don't you think?" She asked me silently, still looking up at the poster.

I looked at the poster again. Iggy and I were standing back to back in a dramatic stance. I remembered feeling extremely annoyed when the picture was taken. All around the poster there were weird designs and other things advertising how this was the best concert ever and people had to come see it. Just like all the other posters...

"Yeah."

"They're just kids after all. It's not as if there were anything ultra special about them. They can sing, big whoop," She continued.

I felt a little defensive about that even though I knew it was true. People went crazy over anything with talent that was publicized. "They're great at it, though."

She smirked at that. "Along with more than a hundred other people." She shook her head. "Look, I never said they weren't good at what they do. They really are talented but it's really only the music that I love. Actually, until tonight I would have said that the music was all that really mattered."

"And now?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now, I can honestly say I feel bad for them." I gave her a confused look. She didn't notice. "You can tell all this really took it's tall on this guy." She pointed at me in the poster. "He made a really great start. You could totally tell his heart was in it but when he went through the other songs, it was as if he just started closing him self off. It was pretty obvious he didn't like what he was being made to sing, well, at least to me," she corrected her self. "I think everyone else was too preoccupied with dancing to the music and screaming. The girls always seem to be screaming their undying love." She laughed then as if it were the stupidest thing in the world and it kind of was true. It was pretty stupid. Her laugh had a small ring to it and it seem as if music it's self had come out her mouth. Not to be weird or anything. She sobered up then finished, "If I hadn't come here tonight I wouldn't have realized that these people," I swiped her hand past the poster. "Are real and they care. All the publicity is just an act. They probably needed the money really badly when they started off. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they had been living out on the streets."

I stared at the poster feeling very stunned. How could one girl be able to get so close to the truth by just looking at us? "If you didn't like those guys before, why did you come today?"

She laughed again and I couldn't help but smirk a bit. "You're just full of questions aren't?" I didn't answer. "Quiet, too. Well, to answer your question Mr. Dark and silent, my friends pretty much pleaded for me to come here. They saved up money to bring me and even though I told them to keep it they wouldn't give in. Then they used the Bambi eyes...I wasn't about to tell them no." She sighed then added, "I don't have enough money to spend anyway so it was a pretty good deal."

I noticed for the first time her baggy black shirt and her worn out jeans that were ripped at the bottom. She certainly didn't look like she had enough money. Either that, or she liked dressing as if she lived on the streets.

"Now let me ask you something," She said breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you going to tell me what your name is so I don't feel like you'll turn into an Ax murderer any second now?"

I smirked. "Fang," Then I stepped into the light. "And yours is?"

"Max," she said sticking her hand out to shake mind. I didn't know what made me say my nickname but when I saw that she didn't seem to realize I was one of the guys she had been talking about, I didn't regret it.

"Well, nice talking to you and all, Fang but I got to split. Maybe I'll see you around," with that she turned on her heal and walked away.

I stood there wondering if I would actually see her around. She had been the first genuine person I had met in a really long time.

I hoped I would see her again.


Well, tad-ah! Here's a few things you should know: No wings. No school and I'm not sure who in the flock will be in my story.

Disclaimer for the whole story: I'm not a man, and my Name is not James Patterson so I certainly don't own anything pertaining to his Maximum Ride series.

The music: Who I am hates who I've been- Relient K and Lifestyles of the rich and famous- Good Charlotte.

Thank you and I hope you like this.