Disclaimer: Please refer to Chapters 1, 2, and 3
Maya Martinez smiled to herself and sang along softly to the radio. She and Max had horribly conflicting music tastes, so Maya was taking any time she had with her music she could. Slumped in the passenger seat, her head against the window and a tiny trail of drool leaking out of the corner of her mouth was Max herself. Maya hadn't talked a whole heck of a lot that night at her mom's, instead just listening as her sisters and brother got caught up. Max had told some crazy out-of-the-world stories that had made everyone laugh until their bellies hurt.
Maya had never thought that she'd miss her sister as much as she did, but she did. She'd missed Max's quick and snarky remarks. She'd missed Max's skeptic personality. She'd missed Max's contagious laugh and her infectious smile. When Max had taken off four years ago in Maya's junior year in high school, Maya admittedly had been happy at first. She had thought of her sister as a black cloud that just loved to rain on Maya's parade. Sure, she had been agitated that Max had graduated a year ahead of her and had never told her anything about her plans to do so, but she'd always known that Max was smart. She just hadn't known how smart.
However, as time went on Maya felt her sister's absence. Max had listened to Maya's rants about commercials, callbacks, and boyfriends. She'd had headphones in, but she'd still nod every once in a while. Ella and Ari were also more distant. They had blamed Maya for Max's disappearance and her already rocky relationship with her youngest siblings had grown worse. Looking back on it, her siblings were right. Maya had taken her sister's presence for granted and she regretted that now.
Maya was taken out of her self-loathing thoughts when Max gave a small snort in her sleep. Maya rolled her eyes at her sister and went back to watching the nighttime California highway speed by. She tapped a beat out on the steering wheel in time to the songs playing and the next thirty minutes flew by. When she pulled into the parking garage for her apartment, Max finally snorted awake.
"Welcome back to the land of the living Sleeping Beauty," Maya chuckled. Max gave a half-hearted glare, but sleep was still pulling heavily on her eyelids. "Let's go. You can explore around town tomorrow after we get back from the set," Maya said as she heaved her sister's arm over her shoulders and started to drag Max towards the elevator. Max shrugged off her sister and made her way into the elevator without any help. She leaned against the elevator wall listening to the soft and cheesy elevator music. Neither sister said anything as the elevator climbed to Level 9. Max went in first, stumbling and staggering her way through the apartment to the room that Maya had given her.
"Did you spike the lemonade or something?" Maya called out jokingly after her sister.
"Shut up," Max grumbled as she slammed her shin on the coffee table. Max let out a string of rather colorful, if slurred, string of curse words in multiple languages.
"Language!" Maya shouted after her sister, sounding frighteningly like their mother.
"English, Icelandic, and a little bit of Spanish," Max shouted back. Maya rolled her eyes at her sister and went to put away her car keys. As she tossed the key ring in the bowl and kicked off her tennis shoes, she saw a pair of beat up black Vans lined up neatly next to the door. 'Nick must be home,' Maya thought to herself. Lying next to the black Vans was a pair of downright massive pair of Adidas tennis shoes. 'And so's James,' Maya thought with a chuckle. She heard the sound of running water and guessed that one of them was in the shower. Somewhere in the back of her somewhat groggy mind, there was a nagging feeling that she was forgetting to do something rather important. Nah, it couldn't be that important could it?
Max dug around in her suitcase and finally managed to unearth a pair of short sleeping shorts and a white t-shirt. She yanked the clothes on her body at an ungodly speed and when she was done, she flopped unceremoniously on the bed. The bed was pushed up against the wall with two pillows squished in the corner. Max paid no attention to the fact that the sheets and blankets were all messed up even though when she'd originally been in the apartment, the bed had been made so tightly that she could have bounced a quarter of the covers. Max scrambled under the blankets until she was adequately curled up in them and practically pulled the blankets overtop her head and the pillow she was resting on. Within minutes, Max was out like a light and dead to the world.
Nick 'Fang' Walker left the bathroom clad in his black pajama pants and nothing else. He walked into the kitchen running a towel through his shaggy dark hair and sat down at the kitchen table across from his roommate Maya.
"Hey," she smiled at him tiredly. He nodded back in greeting but said nothing. "Would it kill you to be a little more social?" she griped at him good-naturedly with a smirk. Fang shot her a look but the corners of his mouth quirked ever so slightly and he exhaled with a slight huff, the Fang equivalent of a smile and a laugh. "Iggy already in bed?" Maya asked through a yawn, referring to their other roommate, James 'Iggy' Griffiths. Fang shook his head and was forced to stifle a yawn himself.
He'd had a long day dealing with an overdramatic director. That man was the sole reason that Fang was staying with Maya in her roomy apartment. All actors were given a trailer on set and Fang, along with many others, had just moved right in. He'd been unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth and just appreciated his own space away from his parents. That gratitude was shattered the second day of filming however. Fang had been rudely woken from his slumber at three in the morning when the Director, wearing nothing other than a pair of underwear that left not nearly enough to the imagination, had run around the set.
He'd been shouting at the top of his lungs, "Where is my actor? Someone get me my actor I've got pure GOLD!"
One of the Director's many PA's had tentatively said, "Sir, he's in his trailer."
"And where is his trailer?" the Director had shouted at a volume that made Fang want to pound his head against a wall.
"The same place it was last evening sir."
"AH! Grab him and bring a tutu! We've got scenes to film!"
"At three in the morning sir?"
"Don't you sass me you ungrateful pig swill!"
"Excuse me?"
"I said-" after that all Fang had heard was snoring. Apparently the Director had a nasty habit of sleep walking and sleep talking. Apparently these nightly activities also extended to sleep filming bizarre scenes with his lead actor in a tutu. Fang still shuddered to think what exactly the Director was planning on having him DO in that outfit.
Suffice to say, the very next day Fang had started asking around for an apartment. However his self-proclaimed agent (more commonly known as Anne Walker, his mother) had found out and shot down the idea. According to her, movie stars do not 'live in apartments like a common street rat'. Any time that Fang tried to contact a real estate agent his mother found out. She had a scary sixth sense. Fang, however, refused to take this all lying down, and instead started asking around the set for anyone who had a spare room. All the other actors, actresses, and helpers had smirked knowingly and shaken their heads. They all got some sort of perverse kick out of seeing the normally stoic and unshakeable Nick Walker terrified of someone as seemingly innocent as their Director. A bit outlandish at first glance, but innocent at the same time.
Fang had been on the verge of walking out onto the streets of L.A. and bribing the nearest drug dealer to give him a closet to stay in, when Maya Martinez had heard of his predicament. Fang had to admit, he'd been incredibly surprised when his co-leading actress had offered him a place to stay. He'd been under the impression that Maya hated his guts, if the glares and scowls she shot his way was any indication. However, he'd jumped at the opportunity of a room and was moved in the next day, to his mother's immense displeasure that she was very vocal about.
When he arrived, he'd found out that the apartment was actually split between Maya and a friend of hers, James Griffiths. Nick, as he'd been called when he'd moved in, and James had hit it off and were soon quite good friends. James had been the one to call Nick 'Fang' first, on account of a wrestling incident. The two of them had been arguing over the remote and Fang had dug his nails into James's skin.
James had dropped the remote like it was fire and shrieked not unlike a small girl, "Have you ever even HEARD of nail clippers? Do you have fangs to match those claws, Fangypoo?" To Nick's surprise, Fang had stuck. Regrettably, Fangypoo had as well.
James came to be known as Iggy when Fang had found out that Maya and James knew each other through the movie. James was the lead pyrotechnics master. Even though he was blind, he could tell you if you prepared the pyrotechnics right just by sniffing them. It was a bit peculiar, but the guy was good at his job. He and his assistant made an ungodly amount of explosions for the action thriller they were currently filming. Fang had seen James with one of his 'creations', as James called them, and the most evil, maniacal, downright terrifying look had come across his face as he lit the ignition. From then on, at least in the apartment, James became Iggy.
Speaking of Iggy, that psycho had to be done brushing his teeth by now, right? There was a distinct sound of someone gargling to the tune of The Star Spangled Banner, followed by spitting, and then a tall, pale, strawberry blond man walked out of the bathroom.
"What's up Maya? Fangles?" he asked as he sat down on the couch with expert precision. Fang rolled his eyes and stood up.
"I'm going to bed. Good night," he said shortly.
"Oh but Fangypoo, don't you want to talk about your day, and the future, and FEELINGS?" Iggy asked in a falsetto voice. Fang cringed and turned on his heel, trying to get as far away from his psychotic roommate as possible.
"Wait Fang," Maya called out to him. He turned around and looked back at his roommate with a quirked eyebrow. "I had something to tell you," Maya muttered, her face scrunched up quizzically. "I just can't remember what it was."
Fang smirked and said, "Tell me in the morning." To emphasize, he yawned widely and Maya nodded, unsure. She was positive that whatever she needed to say was important; she just for the life of her couldn't remember what it was.
Fang walked into his room, the lights already out. Odd. He could have sworn that he had left them on. Maya had probably turned them off on one of her 'save electricity and the environment' kicks. Shrugging, Fang made his way easily over to the bed and flopped on the edge. He always slept on this side. He didn't really know why, he was just more comfortable here. He slung an arm around the closest pillow and pulled the blankets over himself, but only one. For some reason he could never sleep with more than one blanket on him at a time, no matter how cold it was. Odd. His bed felt like it was dipping towards the wall. And it was also warmer. And there was a soft noise that sounded an awful lot like snoring. And there was a weird, yet oddly pleasant, scent. Ah well. He was just imagining things.
Yup. That's it. Not really sure if I like how this one turned out, but ah well. I'm not rewriting it again. Yup. Again. You all have just finished reading attempt #3 of this chapter.
Oh, and the Director may by the most entertaining person EVER to write for. I hope you guys like him as much as I do.
While normally I'm against cliffhangers, I could NOT resist this one. It's just so much fun. If ever there was a time for maniacal laughter, now would be it. Can any of you guess what's going to happen? Props go out to FaximumEverdeen for guessing who one of Maya's roommates was going to be. I've been trying to leave small little hints here and there for you to pick up. Besides the Fang one, I can count two others but one of them is pretty vague, so I guess it's more like one and a half. Hee hee.
Also, I don't know if any of you noticed (or care) but I did change what genre this goes under. Nobody explicitly stated that this fic wasn't funny enough for humor, so I went for it.
Stay tuned for more chapters!
See ya's.
