Unbeknownst

Sept. 20, 2011

Written by desperatelyobvious (Tiff) and maximumrain3 (Sam).

Sam: Hey guys! So…yeah…here's our story :D We hope you enjoy and hope that you know that it only gets more exciting from here! This story is kind of like the 'The Parent Trap' but really, other than the whole switching places thing it's completely different! …There's Fang in it :F *drool*

Tiff: And before all else, imma already say that we (pretty freakin' obviously) don't own Maximum Ride. The plot's also very loosely based on the Filipino drama 'Minsan Lang Kita Iibigin' but all other ideas are ours. :P

Enjoy!

Chapter One: Window to the Soul

The light drizzle that pitter-pattered against the windows served as muted background music as Iggy ascended the creaky wooden stairs, a tiny smile on his face.

Normally the whole ambiance of the place always gave him the urge to be elsewhere, anywhere but this depressing house, but today it didn't bother him so much.

At the moment, he was nimbly carrying a wooden tray filled with breakfast in one hand, and with the other, quietly pushed open Max's door. He made his way to her bedside and was about to shake her shoulder when his fingers suddenly brushed against something else – something soft and slightly chapped as he swept his fingertips curiously over the surface…

Lips.

He'd touched her face by accident, and even though they were best friends, he couldn't help but blush at this.

Of course, he would never touch Max like that unless she wanted him to. No matter how much he loved her, he would never cross that line unless she crossed it first.

Upon contact, Max roused from her slumber even though his hand barely grazed her. Though Iggy couldn't see, he could just imagine her usual routine where she would stretch her arms above her head and yawn adorably, and then proceed to scratch her back as she'd greet him.

"Mornin' Iggy," she said croakily with half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile on her face.

"Good morning," he replied pleasantly. He scooted her over and plopped down on her left, brandishing the breakfast that he made for her every morning. Without hesitation she dug in, but unlike the other times, she raised her head to look into his sightless eyes, spoon mid-way for her third bite.

"Y'know Ig, I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered with clarity, as if this fact only dawned on her now. Then she went back to cutting her pancakes, unperturbed, and went on without noticing the adoring look on his face at her innocent statement. She just didn't know the effect she had on him.

"Yeah, me neither. I guess some people are just born brilliant," he replied back with humor, shrugging transcendentally. He received the expected slap on his shoulder without fail – as she always did whenever they were joking around – but he didn't anticipate her kissing him on the cheek, catching him off guard.

It barely lasted a second, soft lips brushing against his pale cheek, but he instantly felt like he was burning from head to toe, and whatever the feeling was, he didn't want it to go away.

He relished in her company for the rest of the morning, just talking and laughing like they always did. And throughout the day, the lingering heat from her kiss made him believe that things would get better between them somehow.

It was just too bad that he didn't realize how wrong he was.

And that he wasn't going to see her again for a long time.

- - - - -O- - - - -

Max Ride couldn't find it in her to feel the least bit remorseful when she'd stepped out of the Higher Living Foundation for Children and into the gusty autumn afternoon, leaving behind Iggy to run errands.

She knew in her heart that it was wrong to actually want to leave her best friend back in that miserable place, even if he could've very well accompanied her, but he was a key part of that reality and sometimes she just wanted time alone.

Sometimes she just wanted to pretend that she was getting groceries for her loving mother who was waiting in their home in the suburbs, looking as though she were a typical high school student, instead of the reality that she was actually just a pitiful parentless teenager who was instructed to pick up her orphanage's food orders in the next city over.

Through the years Max had grown hard with perseverance and determination. She learned how to always come up with a Plan B and never failed to think on her toes. She was self-sufficient and independent. She had to be, because once she turned 18 in a few months she was out of the orphanage and would be living in the real world on her own. In fact, she'd thought ahead already, planning to rent out an apartment with the scarce amount of money she had earned from her part-time job waiting tables, and wait until Iggy turned 18 as well so they could move in together and share the wages. They had talked about this; their futures were all set.

Though…if Max had it her way, she would've been studying in an actual school to pursue her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Actually would've had more than one friend, and done various activities in her spare time other than getting customer orders.

Actually would've had a family.

People knew Max for her greatness, which was why her nickname from the other kids was Maximum. She was bossy at times but had all the qualities of a leader. She was friendly to those around her, but wouldn't take shit from anyone. She was selfless and she was fierce. She definitely lived up to the name Maximum.

Except on days like today.

Today, she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity and let pain consume her heart whenever she passed by an old married couple on the street or a happy family in the next corner.

Today, as she pulled her worn-out jacket tighter around herself to ward off the chill, she allowed herself to wonder if life was even worth living anymore.

- - - - -O- - - - -

Ella Martinez slammed her bedroom door shut, probably making it known to her entire street that she was pissed. Immediately, she dropped her backpack on the floor with a loud thud and yanked her frilly skirt down to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, all the while, still fuming from the argument that had transpired with her parents a few minutes ago.

It was always 'image' this and 'reputation' that; she was so sick of hearing the same lecture over and over again.

Ella's father – Mayor Charles Martinez – was a local celebrity, and so she was specifically instructed to behave at all times. God forbid she broke the perfect image her father had carefully constructed for years, and yet it was so easy for her parents to break their daughter's heart and just…leave her there.

All she wanted was her mom and dad back.

She just wanted things to go back to the way they were, when she'd watch suspense movies on the flat screen TV with her dad every Friday night, huddled on the couch and munching on microwave popcorn. Or when her mom would drag her to a shopping spree and insist on buying her clothes, but end up picking all the tacky stuff (however it was still appreciated).

Where did those days go? Why did his position as mayor have to ruin everything?

She was trying to be the child they wanted so badly, but sometimes her best just wasn't good enough. She couldn't help it if she sucked at Geometry and scored a D on her test. It wasn't her fault that she accidentally tripped over a business executive at a party.

She was just a kid.

And so she wanted attention like every other kid. She wanted her parents to look at her, to actually look at her, and ask her genuinely how school was that day. To ask her how her friends were doing, or care about whether she was eating right. She wanted them to care as much as she did for them.

Tearing off the halter top that her parents disapproved of so much, and messing her long caramel-colored locks in the process, she slumped on her vanity chair in her undergarments and just looked at herself, wondering what was wrong with her.

She was pretty. Beautiful even, as all the boys would say. She had an hourglass figure with enough curves in all the right places, making up for her petite height of 5'6. Her hair cascaded in shiny waves of brown, and her face never seemed to have any blemishes.

People would talk about her perfect pink lips and her high cheekbones, but it was her eyes that all the girls envied and all the guys wanted to get lost in. They were plain brown – nothing exotic or exaggeratedly multicolored – but her chocolate irises just always seemed capable of drawing anyone in. They were hypnotizing and inviting; like you just wanted to be in her presence and see her look back at you in return.

So what was she missing? What more would it take for her to become the Ella Martinez her parents envisioned?

Before she knew it, she was staring at the tears flowing from her reflection, taking a few seconds to realize that she was actually crying from the stress and hurt she was feeling.

She'd promised herself before that she wouldn't cry. She shouldn't cry for her parents because they didn't deserve her tears. She'd gotten used to it already, and she's learned to control her emotions.

But today…they'd called her trashy, eyeing her like she really was a piece of garbage. And she just couldn't stand the disappointed look on their faces.

The mascara and eyeliner she wore ran down her face in dark thin streaks. Quickly, she smeared her face with make-up remover and rubbed furiously at her cheeks.

Stop crying, Ella. They're not worth it. They're not worth your tears.

Without stopping to completely think things through, she headed for her walk-in closet and rummaged for a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse, putting both on hastily. Bag in hand, she strode out of her room with her head held high all the way to the front door.

In reality, she was only headed for the city to cool off, but in the back of her mind, Ella wished she were getting away from her life, as if by some miracle she could escape it all.

- - - - -O- - - - -

(Max)

Here in the city, you're just like everyone else.

The colors of clothes meshed together into one mass of grey and people surged forward as crowds to their destinations, just like schools of fish in the ocean.

I was among them, just going with the flow with my head bent down. I knew I just looked like any other teenage girl, but at the same time I was slightly conscious.

Ever since a friend from the orphanage described to Iggy how I looked and he'd called me beautiful, I began to feel people's heavy stares and I became slightly self-conscious. Not in the aspect of physical appearances, but because it felt like their eyes knew.

I felt like everyone knew I was parentless upon first glance. Like they just knew I was an orphan.

In fact, I could feel eyes on me right now, on the back of my navy blue New York Yankees cap-clad head with all my unruly hair tucked underneath. I didn't know why this particular gaze seemed to bother me the most, like his stare was burning a hole into the back of my skull, but it did, and I couldn't help but spin around on my heel to flip off the freak.

Except…well, he wasn't a freak.

Right across the street at the intersection, dark eyes stared right back at me. And I was sure he was looking at me because when I'd continued walking, his eyes followed my every move.

In any other situation, I would've glared or turned the other way and ignored him, but now…I just couldn't help myself.

My eyes couldn't seem to look away because I'd never seen a guy so good-looking in my entire life. Everything about him screamed tall, dark and handsome, and I just couldn't find the will in me to look away. I mean, Iggy was good-looking too, I knew, but he was my best friend and I'd never think differently of him.

But this guy…he took the gold. He was extremely tall and well built, wearing all black clothes that matched his messy dark hair and olive-toned skin. Even from afar I could see his perfect facial features and noted the position of his stance, arms crossed over his broad chest, making him look completely badass.

He was a freakin' god.

It was a wonder why he was looking at me, so very mundane in comparison to his good looks.

Was it that obvious that I didn't have any parents? Or was it simply because Iggy was just being nice and I was really a horror to look at?

Well great, Max. Another bruise to my already-wounded ego…

Remember when I'd said people looked like everyone else in the city? That people blended together in one big blur? Well he was the perfect contradiction to that statement.

Maybe it was just me who thought his angular jawline and disheveled hair were gorgeous. Maybe it was all in my head, but I was allowed to feel like a girl every once in a while and this was one of those times. I continued to stare at him out of the corner of my eye as I distanced myself further. Distractedly trying to multitask, I was so preoccupied with my hormonal rush that I wasn't able to see the girl headed for the opposite direction. In the next second, we collided headlong into each other and both fell back on the pavement.

One of my hands shot out to break my fall, subsequently twisting my wrist at the impact, but I didn't let it faze me. Jumping back to my feet, I first adjusted my cap on my head and dusted my hands on my jeans, then bent down to offer the person some help.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I muttered with sincerity, my voice seemingly echoing as I waited for the girl to pick up her fallen handbag.

She was twisted on her side so that her long brown hair concealed her face, and I could tell from her tense posture that she'd hurt herself too.

I took her free hand and gently hauled her to her feet, feeling guilty that I was able to harshly push someone down just because I'd been ogling, possibly drooling, over some eye candy.

Of course this is what happened when I allow myself to feel like my gender for once. Never again…

"Are you hurt? Did you break your ha-" I started softly then cut off, suddenly feeling chocked up in my throat. Because just as I was about to say 'hand', the other girl raised her head then, and I felt like I'd been hit by a sixteen-wheeler truck.

I eyed the stranger's waist length light brown hair first, then shifted my gaze to her beautiful pale complexion. The more I stared like an idiot, the more I began to notice other things – like her petite frame and the shape of her face.

Our eyes eventually met when neither of us ran away, chocolate brown irises looking on into the others like I'd see in the mirror everyday.

I was staring right back into my own eyes.

And shit, it wasn't just the fact that we had the same eyes but, well…

She looked exactly like me.

So, how was it? Kind of slow, but remember, this is just the prologue. Cookies to anyone who can tell us who Max was ogling/drooling over that subsequently caused her to crash into who#2 :D

Tiff: We expect to see all or most of our subscribers review and tell us what they think. Don't let us down, guys!

Sam: Well, Tiff's really nice about this lol, but I prefer to use the extortion method. Please review and if you're one of my "Of Sun and Moon" readers then I'll give you a huge spoiler! I'll also update tomorrow if we can reach 15 reviews :D Chapter 11 is already finished . . .

Can we reach 15 reviews guys? That would just be amazing and therefore, you will be amazing as well c:

Have a great day, guys! (: