Me: Is there something wrong with the review button? Is it diseased? Because a bunch of people reviewed the first chapter telling me they would love for me to update, and I've heard from maybe, four of them. I know people are favoriting and alerting, but nobody is reviewing. Come on, even just tell me you read it. Just so I know you actually are.

Rebbie: I have to agree with her on this one. For all of her stories the reviews have stopped, which is odd because the traffic rates are still high. You people used to be such brilliant reviewers. What happened?

Me: Anyways, enough complaining. Here's the fourth chapter. And maybe, if you like it, could you at least let me know?

Max's POV

"Mrs. Lucas?"

"Yes, Max?"

"Will my mom be coming home from work to see me?"

Mrs. Lucas, the neighbor, went quiet, making herself look busy organizing my breakfast on the tray she was setting up beside my bed. I was stuck in bed this week due to the chicken pox, so homeschooling and chores were out. My parents hadn't even noticed I was sick until I collapsed in front of the housekeeper from a high fever. She called my mom at work, who called Mrs. Lucas, who rushed over.

Turning to me, Mrs. Lucas gave me the best smile she could, but I saw through it.

"Now, now, Maxie girl. Your mother is working very hard to support you. I'm sure she wants to come home and take care of you, but there are some things that simply can't be ignored, and these are hard times for everyone. I'm here for you, so I hope my old hands can be enough. Now eat up. I don't want this oatmeal going cold."

I made a face but complied silently, while Mrs. Lucas went back downstairs to do some of the chores I would be neglecting this week. As I ate, I couldn't help but think of my mother, the mother who wouldn't even leave work to see if her sick child was still alive.

And that thought made me lose my appetite.

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was that there was something wet on my forehead. Reaching up, I pulled a cold washcloth from my head and brought it in front of my eyes, staring at it blankly. Why did I have a wet cloth on my head?

Blinking a few more times, I wearily sat up and dropped the cloth to my lap. Looking around the room, I realized I was in my bedroom, and it was rather dark. I hit a button on my watch that made it light up, and it read 9:36. Great.

I massaged the bridge of my nose trying to remember how I ended up in my bed.

Ah, yes. I had a panic attack, and fainted. I think… I think Fang caught me? Maybe he's the one who put me here. I should probably thank him for saving me from a concussion.

Standing up out of bed, I shivered at the cold flooring, frowning at the lack of my blue rug, and shifted over to wear the blue slippers I had Aunt Val buy me were laying. Slipping into them, I opened my door into the bright hall way, shielding my eyes with my hand. Looking to the left and then to the right, I saw nobody and heard nothing.

Lessee. Iggy's room is across from me, so Fang is the one next to me. I hope he isn't sleeping yet.

I shuffled down the hard wood floor towards the door next to mine, stopping in front of it. Sure enough, a large F was painted on the door. I stood there for a few moments, hesitant. Maybe he was sleeping? Maybe he was doing homework? I didn't want to interrupt him.

Oh just do it.

Sighing, I knocked. Nothing happened. Knocking a little harder, I waited, but again, nothing happened. I waited for a few moments, thinking maybe he heard me and was just taking his time, and my ear twitched. I looked up sharply. I had really sensitive hearing from being alone in a quiet house all the time. My ears had begun picking up the slightest noises. They would twitch when they heard a noise I wasn't paying attention to, causing me to focus in on the noise in that direction, which is what had just happened.

Down the hall and up the stairs, on the third floor. It had been a voice. I was sure of it.

Walking slowly down towards the stairs, I began to hone in on the noise I was hearing. Sure enough, directly above the staircase were voices. It sounded like arguing. I don't know how I missed it before.

I made my way up the stairs, taking each step carefully and quietly, though it wasn't hard to do since my slippers made it almost effortless to walk silently on the hard wood. The voices had gone silent, so I stopped moving. My ear twitched again, and I turned in the direction it had heard the squeak of something, most likely a chair, so I was facing a door. I took a few steps closer, then leaned my head against the wall beside the door, so I could hear what was being said.

"I think she deserves to know!" Someone said roughly. It sounded like Fang.

"She is much too fragile, too jumpy. She is not ready." Another voice answered, this one most definitely Aunt Val.

"And when do you honestly think she'll be ready for news like that? You can't seriously think you're just going to wait til she settles in and gets used to us before you tell her. That'd only put her walls back up faster." Fang argued angrily. I was honestly shocked. I had only been here a day, but he didn't seem the type to be so… emotional.

"There's no possible way I can tell my recently orphaned niece the amount of money she has now become the sole heir to! She is already baring a very heavy load; do you know how much responsibility being an heiress to my estate is? Goodness gracious and she doesn't even speak!" Aunt Val heatedly retorted.

I stepped back from the wall, my hand over my mouth in shock. I was the heir to this house, to this land? I was to inherit Aunt Val's money, her land, her house, her business, which I still didn't know was, and just everything she owned? Aunt Val was right, that's a lot of responsibility. I can't handle all of that… I was barely able to handle the few items I owned. I hadn't even graduated high school yet, or picked out what I wanted to do, or anything! How on earth could I be an heiress? How could I be responsible for so much when all I've known was so little?

Shaking, I put my ear back to the wall.

"It's not even like she's fit to be an heiress. She'd have to represent me at parties, social functions, press conferences. She'd have to speak, wear dressy clothing, and heaven forbid it, smile. She can't even smile. And she'd need to be a rich girl. She couldn't just pretend to be one. No more Dunkin Donuts, or low end pizza. I wouldn't tolerate it. When she's ready for that, then she'll know. For now we can only hope to coax her gently from her shell as she grieves her parents." Aunt Val said wearily, and I heard the squeaking of a chair, as if she had sat down suddenly in it.

I had heard enough, I turned and fled silently down the stairs, back down the hallway, and into my room, shutting my door almost with a slam. She doesn't even want me as an heiress. And even if she did, she expected me to give up huge portions of my life!

Sliding down the door and leaning my head back against it, I replayed the conversation I had just heard over and over. I practically saw the words swimming through my mind as everything I would have to give up in exchange for this life she wanted for me listed itself for me. No more jeans. No more sketchbooks. No more Dunkin Donuts', or pizza, or Chinese food. How would I fit in piano time? How would I do what I want to do?

Curling forward, my forehead met my bent knees as my arms wrapped around them. I held back frustrated and angry tears as the two lives battled for dominance in my head.

An heiress? I couldn't be. I wouldn't be. I shouldn't be. Aunt Val was right, I'm not heiress material, I don't even talk. I don't do dresses, and I would certainly never attend a social function. How on earth does she think I'd be ready for that? And why did she suddenly drop this now? I mean, who was going to get the estate if my parents never died? Would it still go to us? My parents were no longer connected to Aunt Val, so I would assume not… Why on earth did I become the next in line then?

I felt a head ache coming on, so confused and a little betrayed, I took of my slippers and flopped onto my bed, trying to ignore the words replaying in my mind. I soon fell into a restless sleep filled with donuts in prom dresses.

Fang's POV

"You don't understand where we come from." I whispered quietly.

Val looked up from where she sat, her head in her hands on her desk, with sadness, but also a pang of guilt.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, tired and worn.

"Max is like me and Iggy now. Try all you want, you are not her biological parent. It's easier for us because we've been with you a long time. She just got here. If you wait, and then tell her, any trust, and love, and bond that builds between you guys, is going to break because you kept this huge secret. If you tell her now, there will still be time to heal." I said softly, praising myself mentally for this moment of wisdom. It was true though, however hard it was for me to spit it out full force.

Val sighed, giving me a small smile. "When did you become so wise?"

I shrugged.

"It still doesn't change the fact she simply isn't fit to be an heiress to someone like me. I can't have someone who eats Dunkin Donuts, or wears ripped jeans, and talks through a notebook, represent me at conferences or parties. She's a beautiful girl, but she's needs to work on her self-confidence, and her self-image, and most certainly her social skills. I stand by what I said. When she is fit to be an heiress, I will tell her. She will be able to handle it more properly then, I believe." As Val had been talking, her color had been returning and her eyes had been brightening as I assumed she was thinking of what Max would appear like as an heiress. Then all at once she deflated again.

"But I am too busy with work and running this estate? How could I possibly manage such a task as turning that child into a lady?" Val muttered, seemingly forgetting I existed as she rested her cheek back on her hand.

Then, as if it were an epiphany, she jumped up and pointed at me. "You!"

I jumped, startled. "Me?"

Val came around her desk and placed her hands on my shoulders, smiling grandly.

"Yes! Haven't you said that you and your band are looking for a gig now? But you need someone eighteen or older to sign off. Well 'cough' I'm eighteen or older, so I'll happily sign you for a gig at that place, whatever it is."

Instead of cheering like I think she was waiting for, I stared dubiously at her. "You hate the idea of our band."

"Yes, I do… But! Let's make a deal! If you can say, make Max an heiress, I'll happily sign off on whatever you want. In fact, if you can do it by the end of the school year, which is in fact eight months, I'll get you a record deal and support you for three years, no questions asked." Val said happily, grinning up at me like she had just told me I had won the lottery. Which for the band, I suppose I kind of had.

"You expect a group of guys in a band with no experience with dresses and such to be able to turn a girl who doesn't speak, has few social skills, and hates shopping, into an heiress, in eight months?" I asked incredulously.

"You have Nudge." Val reminded me, shaking my shoulders a little.

As if a light went on over my head, the actual possibility of us pulling this off sparked, and I felt real hope for my band start blooming. I stuck my hand out. "Deal."

Val grinned. "Deal."

Now to break it to the guys.

Me: So this was just to get that very important part of the story that's kind of the whole part of the story out. Pretty cool, huh?

Rebbie: Sooooo cooool.

Me: My cat is sleeping on my foot. Well his head is resting on it anyways. I don't know what to do.

Rebbie: Soooo cool.

Me: Reviews? And don't you dare say soooo coooool Rebbie.

Rebbie: soooo not cool.