A/N: SOO! I AM STILL IN NEED OF A BETA! AND KIND OF DESPERATE, TOO! SO PLEASE, SOMEONE WITH EXPERIENCE, VOLUNTEER! I'm going to put another reminder at the bottom, if I remember to. But please, please, please…someone…

Disclaimer: I don't own Max, Fang, Iggy, and a bunch of other people. Nor do I own Hot Chelle Rae, no matter HOW much I wish I did. *dances*

Max PoV

At midnight, we left for Kate's - Paisley's - house. Iggy was sporting a new bandage around his head, but he wasn't complaining. I guess he reckoned it made him look badass. And whenever I looked at Fang, he was staring at me. Probably wondering what my issue was.

Well, him and me both. I was living inside a Hot Chelle Rae song. "Never have I ever felt like this before/I've never been the one to knock but now I'm at your door/Listen very closely and you'll hear the sound/Of a love that makes my heart beat and my head spin round." True to it's claim, I'd never felt like this before, in my entire life. It was like Fang had caught me on a fishing pole and he was reeling me in. On iron wire, so that no matter how hard I tried to get away, no matter how hard I tried to break it, I couldn't. And trust me, I was fighting. Dragging my heels, twisting, shoving, spitting at the feeling. Because it scared me. I had no control, and it scared me.

Anyway, we left the hotel. Since Iggy was back, and he was a sniveling little weasel, he got the bed, and me and Fang took the floor. At least the floor didn't creak...kidding. Actually, Fang said he wasn't tired, so he volunteered to stay up until midnight. I crashed at ten, and Iggy sometime after. But it seemed like two seconds instead of two hours later that Fang's hand was shaking me awake.

Instantly my senses were wide awake. Every cell in my body zoomed to where Fang's hand was shaking me. My body got tingly, and my stomach hurt. I must have looked really horny, 'cause Fang took one look at my face and took his hand off fast.

WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME? my mind screamed. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

Iggy was sitting up in bed, yawning. He stretched and adjusted the bandage on his head, rubbing his chest, where there was a line of Band-Aids under his shirt. "It's not midnight already," he groaned.

"You betcha." Fang shoved his watch into Iggy's face. Iggy jerked his head back. I rubbed my eyes and clambered out of bed, claiming the bathroom before either of the boys could.

Flushing the toilet, I turned to the mirror. My reflection was ghastly. Lately my stomach turned at the littlest thing, and it was showing on my face. My eyes were purple, my cheeks pale. I looked like I was sick.

I sighed and grabbed a brush, yanking my hair back into a ponytail. A tiny curl popped out from behind my ear.

What the -?

Then another curl sprang loose. My hair was not curly! What the hell was going on?

Oh well. Who cared. I yanked the curls back and barged out of the bathroom, closing the door before Fang or Iggy could slip in. Iggy stared at me.

"Jesus, Max. You look like shit."

"You're blind," I told him. "I'm not falling for that again. I don't get my tail caught in the mousetrap twice."

"I told you," Fang said to Iggy, who scowled.

"But you hit it right on the target," I told him. "I do look like shit. When we get to K-Paisley's, I'm gonna ask her why. She'll probably know, right?"

Iggy exchanged a glance with Fang's left jaw. "I'm not counting on the paranormal," he informed me.

Paranormal. What a good word to describe this whole thing. But wait! Iggy just said a - wait, hang on. Par-a-nor-mal. Okay - four syllable word. That has to be a record.

"Whatever," I groaned. "Let's go."

We opened the window and flew out. I took the lead with Fang and Iggy flanking me. At least, even with me feeling this sick and weird, I was still the leader. And no one was taking that from me. Which was why we were going to Paisley's, who would know where the younger three were. Probably. Hopefully.

We soared over the small town. It was about five minutes to her house, but it passed in the blink of an eye. We landed on her back porch and knocked on the window with the lights on.

After a few seconds, the curtain was pulled aside. Paisley looked out and then opened the window, beckoning us in. I crawled through the gap, followed by Fang and Iggy. Then I looked around.

The walls were dark brown wood with a wavy texture cut into them. At least, the walls that I could see were. Almost the entire room was covered with drawings. They pictured just about everything, from sketches of hands to Converse sneakers, book covers to Anime. Actually, there was a lot of Anime. There were also a lot of sketches of me.

It was kind of creepy, seeing my face staring down at me from all four corners of the room. There were also sketches of the rest of the flock. They were extremely realistic, even though I didn't think I'd released pictures of Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel to the public.

The ceiling was painted lavender, and she had maroon curtains with these...weird...hands on them. Instead of just hands, they were a bunch of white criss-crossing lines in the shape of hands. The bedspread was dark purple, and the lamp in the corner gave it a very cozy glow. There were two closets that were closed and had sheets hanging over them so that I couldn't see the wood, and sheets covered both of the door to out of the room.

Paisley looked around, realizing that she still had all those sketches on the wall. She blushed furiously. "Oh, man, I meant to get those..."

"It's fine," I said.

"What?" Iggy asked.

"Nothing," she said. "Sit down, guys."

"What's this?" Fang asked, and he pulled the sheet off of the door.

At first, I thought it was a poster or a photograph. A cutout. Then I realized it was a painting - of me. On her door. I was standing with my hands on my hips, my hair blowing back. It was life-sized.

"What the..." Fang said, staring at it with the sheet in his limp hands. I slid off the bed and walled over to it slowly. Iggy followed me with his hands outstretched, running his fingers over the picture, lingering on the face.

"This is..." I said. I spun around. Paisley was bright red in the corner. "Did you do this?"

She nodded jerkily. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Fang walked over to the other door, pulling down the sheet on that one. His likeness was staring down on him, arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe. It was his classic pose, and she had captured it perfectly. Even better, in both paintings, the light source was coming from the same direction.

"Okay, can we move on?" Paisley pleaded.

Like he was sleepwalking, Fang opened the closets. On the inside doors were paintings of the Gasman and Angel, so lifelike that they made my heart hurt. The sheets slithered off the doors when he opened them, revealing Iggy and Nudge. In Iggy's hands were a tangle of colored wires. Nudge was fingering a strand of her hair. Gazzy's hands were plunged in his pockets and he was giving a huge, innocent smile. Angel had a sucker in her hand, and her eyes were looking upward.

Fang was still staring at the portrait of himself, his eyes wide. He touched his face, looking at the same place he was touching. Then his eyes slid to the left.

In the next second, he had Paisley pinned down on the bed. Gripping her collar, he brought her face close to his.

"How. Do. You. Know. About. Her?" he growled.

"Who?" Paisley squeaked.

My hormones were going crazy. Fang was touching another girl, and even though he was basically attacking her, I couldn't stand it. I dove into his side and we rolled off the bed. He hit the floor with a thump, and I landed on top of him, making the floor creak. Our faces both shot to the door, but there was no sound from any of her family members.

I climbed off of him reluctantly. "Quit it, you," I hissed. "She's thirteen. Lay off."

Fang took another look at he drawing next to his portrait, pressing his lips together. Then he got up and settled on the bed.

"Okay," I said, "sorry about that. I have a few questions for you."

Fang got mad again.

"How is this possible?" he asked. "We read your story. Jesus Christ. I was reading what I was thinking on the screen. But you know that. You described what I was thinking it as I was thinking it. So how the hell did you know?"

"What?" she asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me," Fang threatened. "I'm talking about this. What's happening now. You probably noticed that Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel aren't here right now?"

"You mean it's really - they're really - ?"

"Yeah," said Iggy. "Gone. Poof. The end. AWOL. Got it? So where are they?"

She drew back. "How the hell would I know?"

"Stop it, you two," I said. Iggy and Fang both looked at me and then drew back a little bit. "Look, honey," I said, feeling Fang's shocked gaze burning into my back. "We figured that since you basically know what's going to happen to us before we even do, maybe you would know what's happening right now. Where the others are. And what's going on, you know..."

"Yeah, I think I can manage that," she said, nodding slowly. "I just need to type the next chapter."

"What?" Fang said. "You mean you don't have that sort of thing figured out already?"

She narrowed her eyebrows at him. "No! I think of stuff on the spot! I have no idea where they are right now. I need to figure it out. I was trying to think of a building in the city that I knew pretty well so that I could type it up accurately."

My mouth hung open. "So you don't plan this? The exact events just...pop into your head?"

"Well, I didn't know they were exact," she said. "But I do know what you need me to tell you."

"Really?"

"But you don't need me to tell you that." She swiveled her head and looked at Iggy. "If you're right about my story being accurate, that means that Iggy knows what you need to. You can see it, right?"

Iggy's face went paper white. "How did you know that?" he whispered. "Is that really what I think it is?"

Paisley nodded. "Yes. It is."

"What are you guys talking about?" Fang demanded. "Tell me!"

"Someone's being a bit demanding," Paisley said angrily. "Chill, dude. I know stuff you could use as well. You want an update on Hol-"

"Don't," he hissed. "Don't say her name. I'm telling you. I'll kill you."

Paisley shrugged. I sat there, confused. She turned to me.

"Max," she said. She reached over. "By the time Iggy figures it all the way out, it might be too late. But don't pressure him, okay? It'll all get clear."

She reached over to my ponytail and, with expert precision, pulled out three tiny chunks of hair. Each one curled in a perfect corkscrew in her hand. Fang gaped at them.

"Max's hair is straight," he said stupidly.

"It'll go back to normal," she said softly. "You know what? I'm gonna write you a note. You'll know when to open it. Iggy will tell you."

She nodded and bent over her desk, writing busily for a few moments. Fang wandered around the room, looking at the stuff on her walls. There was a bulletin board in one corner covered in photos.

"Who are these guys?" he asked. "They look like psycho nuns."

Paisley glanced up. "That's my dance team," she said. "Greek dance."

She went back to writing.

"X-Treme Sports," Fang muttered.

"It is," she agreed. "Have you ever done it? No? So keep your mouth shut, mmkay?"

Fang gaped at her. "Psycho nuns!" he mouthed at me, then turned back to the board.

"Who's this?"

Paisley took a look at what he was looking at. Her expression went from shock to pain to grief to fury in about two seconds. "Mind your own business!" she snapped. She folded up the letter and stuffed it in an envelope with shaking hands.

I looked at the photo. It was her with her arms around a dark auburn-haired girl. Both of them were laughing. I took a closer look at the girl's face, and then looked around the room again.

The girl's face looked down at me from the wall even more often than my own did. Black and white sketches, charcoal, but there wasn't a single one of her in color. There was a picture of her with her hands folded over her belly, her head hanging down, but it had been scribbled over with a red marker. The picture still hung there, though.

"She's dead," Paisley said in a flat voice. She tossed the envelope at me. It said, OPEN IN EIGHT MONTHS OR IN HOWEVER LONG YOU WANT IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH SPOILING THINGS FOR YOURSELF. IN FACT I KNOW WHEN YOU'LL OPEN IT, AND I CAN TELL YOU THAT YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH SPOILING THINGS FOR YOURSELF. SUCKERS on the front. The handwriting was in all caps, with light lines connecting each letter, where she was writing too fast to actually take her pencil off the paper.

"Here," she said.

Iggy cocked his head. "Someone's coming," he hissed.

Fang disappeared. Iggy dove into the closet. I rolled off the bed and into the crack between the bed and the wall. Flight time: 3.53 seconds.

The doorknob turned with a creak, and the door opened. Paisley's mom crept into the room.

"Who's in here?" she said.

"No one, Mama," Paisley answered, with only a slight tremor in her voice.

Her mom didn't pick up on it. "Someone was talking," she insisted. "It wasn't you. It was..."

Her face grew round with horror.

"It was a boy," she said. "You have a boy in your room. Didn't Mady teach you anything?"

"I told you not to say that name," Paisley said, her voice tight. "No one is in here, Mom. Now get the hell out of my room."

"Turn your light off. It's one o'clock in the morning. That's another thing that she did to you."

The bed creaked as Paisley stood up. "I'm going to count to three," she said dangerously. "If you're not out of my room by then, I will make you go out. You lost me when you said her name."

Paisley's mom left, turning off the light as she went. Paisley stuffed the sheet in the crack between the door and the floor and turned the lights back on.

"Sorry about that," she whispered.

"So who's Mady?" Iggy asked.

She sighed. "You better go," she said. "Can you come back tomorrow?"

"Who's Mady?" Iggy asked again.

"My dead friend. Please don't make me talk about it.

"How did she die?"

Paisley's face hardened. "I think it's time for you to go," she said, and pushed us out.

"Paisley," I called through the open window. Fang and Iggy were waiting behind me. "Paisley, I have more questions! Please!"

"See you tomorrow," she said, and slammed the window closed. The light flicked off.

"Go away. I'm asleep," she called.

"Bye," I called, and we took off.

**!**

Back at the hotel, Fang and I basically jumped Iggy.

"What was she talking about?" I demanded. "Do you know what's wrong with me?"

"I sure don't," Fang muttered. I ignored him.

"Look, Max," Iggy said. He flopped back on the bed. "I'm exhausted and really freaked out. Hopefully you'll forget about it. If you don't, I'll make up a lie. I don't think you'll be able to handle the truth until it starts dancing naked in front of you."

He chuckled to himself.

"Fine, then," I said. I pushed him off the bed before he could react. "I get the bed, if you're going to be that way."

"Only if Fang stays off the bed," he grumped. "No horny teenagers are waking ME up in the middle of the night."

He flopped onto the blankets where I had been earlier. I dove under the covers. Someone turned off the lights, and soon I heard Iggy's snore.

The sheets rustled as Fang crawled into bed next to me.

"Be PG," he whispered. "None of the recent attitude, 'kay?"

"Fine," I whispered back. "Just...don't go."

"I won't," he murmured into my neck. His arm snaked around my waist, and his forehead rested between my wings. I held onto his fingers and fell asleep.

A/N: There she be.

So, perspective Betas! PM me! The first one gets a hundred thousand million virtual….good things! OK? Enthusiastic now? Huh? Yeah, you know what's up. Good boy/girl/it/thing. P.S. AM NOT ACCEPTING BETA REQUESTS FROM MARILYN! Good day.