HELLO MY AWESOME READERS! It's Sam C: here, finally updating after about two weeks! Seriously, I have to apologize for making you wait for the final conclusion to My Fair Lady. I could've updated earlier! But this Chapter was a little bit...hmm...difficult for me to write? But I'm updating now, and I hope you guys enjoy this twenty-seven paged Chapter! Phew! XD

Even though this is only the final part of the conclusion, I'd just like to say thank you to every single person that has reviewed, favourited, alerted or just read my story in general! I seriously, seriously cherish every single comment I get, and all the emails telling me I have new subscribers and what not. Really, I'm just...really touched that you guys have stuck with this story for so long! C: As soon as I finish the Epilogue, you guys will all receive shout outs, because thanks to you, My Fair Lady has reached 391 (I think? XD) reviews and I couldn't be more happy!

Sooo, enough of my chit chat, let the finale begin!

Fang - That was quick.
Sam C: - Eh, not exactly. It took me at least seventeen days.
Max - MUCH better than your previous Chapter, which took you like ZOMG, oh, I don't know, a YEAR TO UPDATE?
Sam :C - HEEEEEEEEY! It was NOT a year! It was a month! I was busy!
Angel - And you're even busier now.
Sam :CC - ANGEL, are you on MY side or THEIR side?
Angel - Neither. I'm neutral!
Gazzy - ANGEL! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH MY SPIDERMAN BOXERS! THEY CAN'T BE DRIED IN THE DRYER!
Nudge - GOOD GOD, SHUT UP! Buy yourself a new pair! Macy's must have some...that's a great place to shop.
Iggy - Too much What Not To Wear makes you go crazy. Then, you'll end up with wrinkles like HER.
Nudge - EXCUSE ME!
Total - On with the story! Go, go, GO!

(Fang's Point of View)

It's only been a few hours, but it already feels like eternity. I don't know about you, but when you lose someone who's this important to you (Cue the humongous hand gesture), the repression, the depression and all related nouns…

It hits hard. The worst part? It hits the place where it hurts the most – my heart.

When I think about it, I'm seriously considering whether I'm crazy, or it's the horrible fact that I finally found that one great love that are usually part of the cliché endings of romance endings, except in my case, I let her slip away from my grasp.

I mean, it's not like I haven't met women before. Hell, before Max, there were plenty of easy-going girls that practically threw themselves at me. I could even give you a little black book of phone numbers called and deleted – and I kept them for Iggy's sake, not because I look at it as a trophy for getting the most text messages in the time span of two days.

So now, I'm asking myself a single question: What exactly is the difference between those skimpy-dressed girls at the club and Max, a male-masquerading, microphone-hogging, heart-breaking bitch who left me without a good-bye?

The answer is crystal clear.

They didn't have the chocolate-brown eyes that were often glazed with a piercing stare when we weren't concentrating enough.

They didn't have the (Now) shoulder length sun-streaked hair Max would often tie up into a small ponytail. Oh no, it was far from that. Atrocious even – to the point of a putrid lime green mixed in with a little bit of silver? I mean, who did they think they were? Those crazed stylists from the Hunger Games?

They didn't have her personality.

So simply put, they weren't Max.

Usually, it'd be easy for me to put a few paragraphs into the text box, but tonight, there was something different. Every single time I tried to type a single sentence, I froze up as I continually read what I wrote, and then pressed the 'Backspace' key to make sure it was wiped completely clean.

Blank. Empty.

Just like her expression when I averted my gaze to avoid total eye contact with her when Ari had his bitchy fuss about Francesca's very sudden (And according to the two destined parents-to-be 'devastating') miscarriage.

I rarely use my blog to rant about any aspect of my personal life, but things are different now; things are changing. Idols weren't perfect people, as much as the tabloid magazines always try to emphasize our ever astounding lives. We had our own problems, and I had a problem of my own that I needed to get off my chest.

Even though you may think I was, I wasn't avoiding you at all. I caught a glimpse of your expression today. It was as blank as a stone carving. There were no tears, no sobbing, no crying – it was just…set. It was just there. You showed no indifference towards the way we were all acting towards you.

I saw you look at me. For a split second, the indifference was gone, replaced with sudden shock and surprise, and then it was back to the statuesque facial expression.

I know that you probably found my way of behaving so, so…stupid.

It wasn't the best way to act, because in the end, you've left me now, thinking that everything is finished once and for all. But you know what?

Your departure sucked everything out of me. You know when Professor Lupin in Harry Potter was describing Sirius Black's eventual faith about the Dementor's Kiss?

You've performed it on me, except without sucking out my entire soul and leaving me as this empty shell; it's even worse, because you've taken only my happiness, leaving me as a sad, lonely and stupid idiot.

I didn't want you to leave at all. I wanted to come back home to find you still here. I simply could not believe that you would turn your back against me, literally.

Do you know how much your departure has driven me to the verge of breaking down? I wish I could drop every single responsibility right now. I wish I could just burst out of this place so I could find you right now.

But I can't.

I have duties to fulfill. I have places to go to, people to meet and greet and please and events that I have to attend no matter what.

I don't even know why I'm writing this post, but I need to talk to someone, somehow. My blog just seemed to be the ideal candidate, since pretty much nobody else is able to understand the pain that is continually building up right now.

I'm lying though. I'm partly writing this because I need to vent, partly writing this because I'm an attention whore (I'm kidding – see? I'm still sane enough to crack morbidly terrible jokes), and mostly writing this because I'm hoping you'll be able to read this and feel guilty.

Well, not necessarily guilt – I'm angry, but I'm not so furious to the point that I want to throw rotten eggs at your head. I care about you. I worry about you. I'm…

Do I really want to write that and publish it for the world to see? Backspace, backspace, backspace…

I'm…

Those three keys are pressed once again.

I'm in l

I'm almost there. I'm almost finished.

I'm in love with

Click, click, click. Instead of finishing up what I originally planned to write, I typed something else.

We never got to the point of being in a relationship, but I can gladly admit that, in some point in our lives, we loved each other. But with that being said, it also feels as if we broke up today.

I didn't have to lie about anything. Things like romance and love are seen and felt, and I was sure that we both felt it.

But now, we're never going to have the chance to love again, but I guess that your future is what you want, not what other people want. Obviously, I want you here…with me, so badly, but I know it's utterly impossible.

A rather satisfying wish to fulfill, but I know you're not going to be there.

Please know that you've made me a much happier person than I probably was about a year ago. It's your presence that makes me so much stronger now, both mentally and musically.

But now isn't the time to reminiscence on past memories. If you're able to move on like this, then I should too. I'm going to try to erase this once and for all; I'm going to wipe the slate clean…making it as blank as the white stainless curtains in my room.

Deep down, however, I knew that it was literally impossible. How could you ask me to forget Max? It's an impossible task, and will forever be an impossible task.

I guess the sudden-rant-turned-sick-love-confession post did one good deed – the burden isn't off my chest yet, but significant weight has dropped off.

But at the same time, I felt my heart drop several feet deeper in my chest, because even with this weblog, Max is never going to come back.

(Max's Point of View)

God, I never knew how difficult it could be to purchase a single return flight plane ticket back to Washington. FYI: Do not ever use a computer that is etched with pizza stains.

"How could you give me the latest flight at eleven thirty at night? LAX, you're just trying to screw me over." I grumbled under my breath as I jabbed at Gazzy's laptop that was lagging oh-so-slowly-like-a-tortoise violently, but after numerous pokes, prods and clicks with the portable mouse, the transaction was done and over with, so I breathed a sigh of relief.

Make that a heavy sigh of relief.

It's not all fun and joy for me either. Even though I managed to escape the villa with unsuspecting eyes prying around for any sights of Fang's 'mystery girlfriend' (The hounding paparazzi gave up and resumed their normal business of stalking Paris Hilton), I still had a small burden weighing down on me.

I'm a terrible, terrible liar so forget what I just said. I take it back. It's not a small burden (What the fuck, of course not); it's a huge one.

You can call me a coward all you want, because I won't care. You can lecture me on how I'm being irresponsible by abandoning every single person I care about (Minus that psychotic sister-in-law of mine), but I won't even give you the time of day.

I guess you could say that I've learned to act completely apathetic. It's a skill that you might want to have in your personal arsenal, I'm just sayin'.

But…

Okay, I'm lying about one thing. Since I've had the bad luck to deal with an idiotic brother whose stupidity bothers me to the extent of committing deathly suicide, I've grown to become totally unresponsive to his crap.

Let's look at this logically: I don't think stuffing common sense into his Montessori brain is going to do me any good, and besides, he's not going to listen to a single word I say, so the best thing to do is just pretend he doesn't exist.

Which inevitably proves impossible, due to the fact that his nightly moans and groans drive me sick to my stomach.

However, just because I've grown immune towards him, this fact doesn't stay true for everything else. I mean, there's always Dad to worry about when his wrinkles show up even more so, Angel and her sudden unknown attraction for my brother, Gazzy, sometimes Iggy (Depending on what the situation was) and…

Yeah, you guessed it.

Thinking about him already brings a frown to my face, and it's mostly because of how he lost his fire. I still remember that day like it was yesterday (Well, technically speaking it happened about three weeks ago, but you get my drift).

I don't think I could ever forget his stoic facial expression that suddenly turned into anger and resistance to punch Ari right in the gut when he saw how the numerous cuts and bruises emblazoned all over my arm.

I don't think I could forget the warm feeling of thankfulness when he stood his ground, protecting me from getting kicked out of the house.

So I guess what I'm trying to say (I mean state) is that I don't think I could ever forget that guy of mine, and for once I actually agree with my heart.

I totally agree that it hurts to leave the one person that you've finally learned to love, and to leave him with nothing but a note.

I also agree that thinking and longing for that same person seriously sucks like crap.

Let's just put it this way: Everything about it is fucking horrible.

But what can I do about it anyway? Do you think it's great seeing the villa blow up to smithereens with Ari's endless wails of 'Why am I still there' and Fang revolting against the rest of the group (Excluding Dad) by constantly declaring 'She's innocent and therefore, she should be given the right to stay here'?

Seriously, it's like watching two Pokémon of the same type battle against each other, with both KO'ed at the last minute and set straight by the referee (AKA Dad).

A sudden beep at the computer knocked me back into reality. I glanced at the small icon on my computer, indicating that I had one new e-mail. "Probably one of those stupid advertisements, telling me to buy Viagra or something…"

Just as I was about to check, I had to stifle a yawn. What? I'm a girl. I get tired and I need rest. My fingers inched across the desk and slammed the lid shut on the laptop, putting it to sleep. I'll check tomorrow…maybe…

And hmm…maybe my eyes were deceiving me, but the tag line was something among the lines like…"Fang's Blog – One New Weblog Post"…

…Nah.

(Fang's Point of View)

"Eat." I'll admit that I do have a rather unhealthy (And secretive) obsession for Manager Jeb's homemade waffles, but that lump in my throat from waking up and seeing no heaving lump lying on the sofa is making it impossible for me to drink, much less swallow.

But thank God, I can still decline offers of food.

"No."

"You need lots of crabs in order to perform well! Eat this stinking pancake before I shove it down your throat with a chain saw!"

I raised a suspicious eyebrow at the totally ecstatic Gazzy, who was waving an oozy, sticky waffle in front of my face with a fork, unknowingly spraying flecks of maple syrup across my face.

Oh, yeah. Today was looking great.

"Gazzy, the correct name is carbs, short for carbohydrates, not crabs." Iggy corrected, flinging his finished apple core into the garbage can. "Do you honestly think Fang would have pubic lice?"

Gazzy started to stroke his non-existent beard thoughtfully with his fingers. "Well, not Fang, that's for sure." Then, his voice lowered into nothing more but a mere whisper. "Ari and Francesca? Possibly. Did you even HEAR them last night?"

Iggy shook his head. "Don't remind me."

"And it's even worse for me because MY room is right next to theirs!" Gazzy narrowed his eyes evilly at Manager Jeb, who was wielding a super hot frying pan. "It's your fault for not asking for soundproof walls!"

"That's it. No more sugar for you today, mister. You've had your quota for today, and I'm not going to let you crash and burn on stage beside Nudge." Manager Jeb rumbled, completely annoyed as he tried to frisk the jar of maple syrup away from Gazzy.

"No! It's – mine!"

"Give it to me before I whack you in the head with this frying pan!"

Even though I was feeling quite crappy this morning, I couldn't help but grin. Come on! It's funny! Although…violence will get Manager Jeb nowhere in life…should I say something?

…

Nah.

A hand suddenly clasped itself onto my shoulder, but I didn't even need to think twice about who else it could be. "Iggy."

Mm, forget it. My slight upturn in mood has now totally vanished. If you don't remember, then I'll kindly remind you that yesterday, Iggy had a change of thought that Max wasn't psychotic, and that Francesca was part of this huge scam to drive her away.

"Hey dude, can we talk for a bit?"

I scoffed, but I nodded for the briefest moment. "Make it quick. We've got to get to Staples Center in half an hour for last-minute rehearsals."

"It won't take more than a second."

Before I knew it, the two of us were on the patio once again. I guess you could say that it was 'our place' – the place where Max had told Iggy about her secret identity, the place where she shared kisses with each of us, and finally, the place where Iggy had his heart broken for the first time in his life.

"What's up?" I asked after a few moments of silence. "Do you have something to say?"

Iggy looked up at me, his eyes drooping sadly. "I know that what I say now might not be relevant to you, but it is. And I know that she's gone now – "

I felt my hand clench and unclench itself into a fist. God, look at me. Even the mere mentioning of Max brings me heartaches. Fang, you've got to get a grip…for now.

"But I just wanted to apologize to you, and Max."

My head snapped up at him. "Did I hear you correctly? You want to apologize to me, and Max?" Max, I could totally understand, but me? Why me? "Why are you apologizing to me? You never did me any wrong."

Well, except for yesterday…but…

"My behaviour towards the both of you has been…more than hostile." He began slowly, sinking into the garden swing, making it rock slightly. "I'm going to come clean now, Fang. Believe it or not, during my recovery time from my surgery, I fell in love with Max."

Uh, thanks for stating the noticeable…Captain Obvious. I didn't say anything though. "Go on." I wanted to hear the rest.

"And y'know, it was the first time I ever truly…loved someone, but it was clear that this love was totally unrequited. She, herself, had fallen heads over heels for you." Instead of locking gazes with Iggy, I took part in an intense staring contest with my slippers.

"I took this blow pretty…badly, I guess. For at least the past month and a half, I've been treating you and Max, but mostly Max, very horribly, and now I can't help but feel guilty that Max's departure is also my doing."

No shit, man. I looked up at him, trying my very best to put a stoic poker face on, but it's way too difficult. "Well, I'm glad you're taking some responsibility now. Is that all?" I know growing irritable is not going to help this supposedly heartfelt conversation, but I'm sick to my stomach right now.

Maybe it's the waffle? Or perhaps it is Max's tear-stricken face that continually haunts the living daylights out of me when I'm daydreaming? I wouldn't know for sure.

"…Do you think it's too late to get her back?" He stood up, glancing at me for approval. "Nothing is ever impossible, and I have a feeling that she's going to turn up today. I just have this hunch."

Oh, God, who does this guy think he is?

At his idiotic suggestion, I couldn't help but laugh bleakly. It was something that I, myself, also really wanted to happen…but…

"What are you, five?" My eyes narrowed swiftly before I had enough self-control to resume my poker face. "Max is gone forever, and there is nothing else we can do about it. I'm pleased you finally gathered your courage to apologize, but it's too late. I'm finally managing to convince myself that she's gone…"

Before leaving the patio, I whirled around to give him one last piece of advice.

"Maybe you should too."

"You do realize that she's technically not gone forever." Iggy muttered just as I turned to leave for the kitchen.

I could've ignored him, but instead, his words made my feet stick to the ground. "You know that. You're just too cowardly to admit it right now. Max is still here, and will always be."

"I TOLD you not to overdose on the maple syrup! Aw, man, Manager Jeb's going to kill you for the mess you made!" Iggy scolded lightly, although the mischievous glint in his eyes spoke otherwise.

Gazzy, who was still rubbing his chest, grinned cheekily. Wow, even after regurgitating this afternoon's light lunch (His was obviously deemed heavy), he can still have a smile on his face. How does he do it? "Better out than in! That's what I always say!"

Even though there was still about two hours until our show started, we were still needed at the Staples Center for last-minute costume fittings, last-minute rehearsals with our vocal coaches, last-minute tune-ups with the fireworks and lights and…

Pretty much anything last-minute was in the bag.

Everything seemed to go according to plan too, which…just didn't seem right for me. I mean, okay, let's just face facts here: You've seen how chaotic things can be, even for us idol singers. But today…it was just too peaceful.

When all five of us (Ari's slightly traumatized girlfriend included) clambered into the car and arrived at the back parking lot, it seemed surreal that none of us got engaged in any heated arguments on the way here.

But the thing that has got me freaked out the most is Ari's sudden change in behaviour. We've all seen his erratic, rude attitude before, and (Unfortunately for me) witnessed it far too many times in a month to count.

When costume fitting was occurring, Ari's opening tuxedo (In that chic sparkly white fabric that he seriously doesn't deserve to wear) had a major rip in the sleeve. It wasn't nothing too serious that Cat couldn't fix by calling a professional seamstress in.

And of course, you can already guess that Ari would've had some major fit about how nobody seems to take his belongings seriously, but you're totally wrong.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. Ari? Silent? You must be crazy.

He never shrieked when Iggy accidentally splashed water in his face during the car ride (Don't ask for the details; you don't need to know), and when Cat "accidentally" – and trust me, it was not accidental – tweezed one too many eyebrow hairs from his face, he didn't even make any snide remarks about how unprofessional and immature Cat was.

Okay, so maybe you're thinking that I'm just going crazy and am suffering from some pre-concert jitters and is being super observant and sensitive to every single thing, but you've seen how he can act.

I'm not trying to curse our performance so somebody ends up dead on the dance floor, but that gut-wrenching feeling is here, and it's not giving me any pleasant feelings.

"Ari, here's the water that you wanted! I just bought it from the vending machine downstairs." Francesca said, handing Ari a water bottle while giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. My eyes narrowed slightly at the unsealed cap. It looks like it's already been opened…

"…Thanks…" Ari gave off a weak smile before uncapping the bottle and taking a quick drink. Wow, okay, so I'm not going crazy. There IS something wrong with him. You know this is going to be an off day when he doesn't tackle Franny against the wall and engage in a furious, 'passionate' battle of tonsil hockey.

I shook my head, feeling completely wiped out. God, the concert hasn't even started and I already feel like drifting off to sleep.

Well, a nap can't hurt. It'll replenish my energy so I'll be ready to go. Off to dreamland, I suppose.

Believe it or not, two hours can pass by just like that. Why can't time pass by just as quick when we're awake? Meh, either way…

By the time I woke up (More like startled by the loud commotion from Gazzy), I was feeling slightly better, but my brain is freaking driving me insane, since everywhere I go, I always stumble onto something that reminds me of Max…

And of course, it totally sucks.

For example, her polar opposite brother (Who still isn't complaining – huge surprise there), the clothes that should be on her instead of HIM, her curt-looking father, re-checking his clipboard for anything missed…need I say more?

Well, if Fate doesn't want you here, then I guess it doesn't.

Painful message to get through, but hey – nobody said the truth was going to be all sweet and wonderful like cotton candy (FYI, I hate it).

I got up from the comfort of the lounge chair and entered the rather cramped circle for one final briefing before picking up our instruments and heading onto stage. Bee tee dubs, if you ever have to huddle up with three obnoxious teenagers who are still undergoing puberty, hold your breath. The scent is nasty.

"Well, this is it, guys! All that planning, all those extra rehearsals…and now you're going for the real thing!" Manager Jeb exclaimed, clasping his hands together. "Excited?"

"To the point that you want to hurl? Yep…" Gazzy mumbled under his breath.

Iggy only rolled his eyes. "Dude! The maple syrup was officially confiscated a few hours ago, and you're still complaining about your upset stomach?"

Gazzy glared at Iggy, but shook his head vigorously. I tilted my head to the side, looking thoughtful. Knowing Gazzy, the only way he could feel like vomiting would be if he OD'd on anything sugary that is within his arms' reach…or explanation Y: I really don't know what the band is coming down with.

Is this when we need a doctor…? Cause we seriously don't have the time.

"No, it's not that! Obviously, I puked out everything just now. It's…" He looked around nervously, and then started to fiddle with his fingers. Oh, God, no. Gazzy can't be all thumbs right now – he has a freaking guitar solo in our first performance.

"Then what? Go ahead, Gazzy, please tell us." It's obvious there's no patience in Manager Jeb's voice, but I guess it's only because we're going on in about three and a half minutes.

"It's the feeling that someone is missing…someone…y'know…someone REALLY important to us. So in an analogy regarding arts and crafts, that person would be the Super Glue that binds us together."

Ah.

"You've got that feeling too, huh?" Iggy asked, giving off a weak smile. "I didn't realize it before, but now that you mentioned it, I totally get what you mean."

Manager Jeb obviously got the message too, because at the mere mention of 'Super Glue', his eyes drooped sadly for a few brief seconds. "C'mon, guys! Look lively out there! This is your first concert, with many more to come in the future! You don't want to disappoint your fans with mediocre reviews, right?"

You have no idea how much I just want to crawl back into bed. It's not the fact that I'm sleepy, but because Gazzy's right – and truth be told, Gazzy is almost NEVER right. I hate to admit it, but Max was our support system.

Who was the one that ran to the closest pharmacy to buy a box of grape-flavoured Tylenol for Gazzy when he had a fever running at highs of one hundred and three degrees?

Who was the one that chased after Iggy to make sure he was safe when none of us supported his idea of corneal transplants?

...And who was the one that I fell in love with?

Just as we were about to stack fists as a last-minute gesture…

"Holy shit!"

The shriek was overwhelmingly loud, but I didn't even need to scold Gazzy twice. We all noticed it at the same time.

White soapy foam was starting to froth in Ari's mouth. In a matter of moments, he tripped over his own two feet and collapsed, completely blacked out, into Manager Jeb's frantic arms. The suds were slowly dripping down his chin and onto the floor, and if I wasn't mistaken, that red pigmentation is NOT food colouring…

Oh, shit, we're in a real crisis.

"What the fuck is this! What the fucking hell is this!" Manager Jeb screamed as he heaved Ari onto the sofa. "Ari, what's wrong with you? Are you okay? Speak to me! Speak to me now!"

"Not only that, but what are we going to open up with? We can't just announce the cancellation of our concert! Not only is it going to mean a huge financial loss on the Prez's part, but we're going to go down the drain as well!" Iggy cried, pacing the floor frantically as he messed his neatly styled hair with his hands.

"We can't do this without Ari! I mean, I kind of hate him too, but he's still part of the team, and we need to work together!" Gazzy was on the verge of crying now, and as leader, I was having a pretty hard time adjusting to all of the commotion.

But there's no time to dawdle anymore. The lights are up, the announcer is rehearsing his lines for the last time, and…

"You've got to go on stage without him." Manager Jeb said, panting heavily. His face was covered in shiny sweat as he looked me in the eyes. For some reason, I just hated the determination that was set in his gaze. "Fang, I know you can do this. The show must go on. While you guys open and get the crowd fired up, we'll figure out a way to fix this mess."

Somehow, I had a funny feeling that it would take more than three minutes and fifty seconds to think up a sure-fire plan.

"What are we going to open up with though!" Gazzy piped up. "It's been at least a whole year since he sang 'Appear', and I seriously doubt he'll magically remember the lyrics!"

Another dilemma to question – but truth be told, I was glad Gazzy said something. It's only been recently since I've studied the sheet music again, so there was no way I could pull it off.

"Then you guys will open up with 'I Hope'." Manager Jeb said firmly, putting an end to the discussion as he began to push us towards the dark alley and onto the platform that would eventually rise us up to the center stage. "You're not backing down from this show, and neither are the rest of the stage crew. We're determined to make this show great, and as long as you concentrate and don't let your mind wander, you'll be fine."

"…And what's going to happen if Ari doesn't get well after the song?" Iggy asked, gazing at the paling figure on the sofa, still vomiting white foam.

"We'll just need to put our improvisation skills to the test, and switch up the entire program."

"You're on, kids!" The stage manager announced, popping his head into the backstage area. "Everyone set?"

I sucked in a deep breath, and stared back at him. "Ready as we'll ever be."

As soon as the platform raised us up to the main stage, the roar was deafening. From my view, every single seat was occupied with a glowing light stick of their favourite member, banners, posters and glow-in-the-dark signs were waving around every few feet and photographs were snapped with digital cameras just a few feet from us.

Compared to a performance on shows like Music Central, those were just amateur stuff. This is the real thing.

Dear fingers, hands, feet, body: I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES RIGHT NOW. PLEASE DO NOT FAIL ME. I have a low tolerance for messing up on stage and acting like a total idiot.

"Hey everyone. We're so glad that you guys could come to our concert today, and we're also super stoked to be able to perform for the next few hours! Ready to have a blast?" My lines are just too cheesy, but our fan base just eats it up completely. "Hit it, Iggy!"

As of now, nobody seemed to have noticed the absence of Ari's stage presence, but I knew it was only a matter of time before they discovered something was wrong. I'm hoping everything just goes right…please, God, make sure that my vocal chords are ready for this song...

And please make sure Ari is alright.

The harsh-sounding chords from Gazzy sounded, as did the steady crashes from the cymbals from behind me. As soon as everything fell silent, I opened my mouth, ready to sing.

"A day and a month have passed, yet I still did not hear from you. My tears fall, my heart burns, this isn't it, it's only temporary…" A sudden rustle and pause of waving the light sticks with the beat from the crowd isn't giving me a good sign.

"This isn't it, this isn't it, this isn't it…please don't cheer me up…the empty space you left only get larger…"

I know Ari and I have had our rather personal differences, but the song speaks so true to all of us right now. Although I'm just doing my duty to fulfill his job as main vocalist, the space is visually occupied…but my heart isn't into it.

No. I have to be. I need to be strong. Max would be scolding me to be strong right now.

"I see you again, and you are my love, I see you one hundred times, and I'm still your love…you were my match made in Heaven, but you took the wrong path…that's all…" Here come the rather high notes. I'm hoping my voice is still able to hold out and manage for the remaining two minutes.

Don't think any negative thoughts, Fang! I could literally hear Max screaming at me right now. You still need to be strong for the group! Stay tough out there, otherwise, how are you going to survive Gazzy's nauseous fumes?

"Even if I'm born again, I only want you, even if I love again, I only want you…"

Way to go, Fang. You're doing great.

"You will come back; you will come back…because without you, there is no me…"

When 'Promise' finally came to a close, Iggy and I escaped backstage while Gazzy put on a mini guitar solo. Through our microphones, we could hear the instructions that were given out by Manager Jeb. After our group performance with the four title tracks from our few albums, Nudge would be making her guest appearance and the two would engage in a quick 'battle of the wits' before singing two duets.

"I think that went fairly well, don't you? Great job at aiming the high notes, by the way. It looks like your vocal chords are back in business." Iggy gave me a soft smirk as we both raced down the hall, dress shirts completely drenched in sweat from the sweltering heat.

I returned the smirk. Hearing a compliment seriously perks up your mood when your day turns out looking foul. "I could say the same for your rap in 'I Hope'. You've improved. Been practicing?"

He didn't have any time to respond, however, because as soon as we entered the air-conditioned backstage room, the atmosphere turned tense once more.

Manager Jeb only gave us a grim smile as we arrived. Iggy started to fan himself with a nearby book. "How's Ari?"

"…We called for an ambulance, and they immediately rushed him to the hospital. Nobody knows what happened, except it might be food poisoning…we're not too sure…" Manager Jeb wiped sweat from his forehead and shook his head disappointedly. "How could this happen?"

"Speaking of Ari…anybody know where Francesca is? Was she here when Ari started to vomit like that girl from The Exorcist?" I asked, scanning the nearby area for her. I looked up, and every single person shrugged.

"Nobody's going to pay attention to some attention whore, Fang," Iggy laughed bleakly. "Even if she outwardly demands it, no one's going to give her shit because we're all too busy to care."

My head snapped up. Wait a minute.

Nobody's going to pay attention to some attention whore…

…Because we're all too busy to care…

"I need to talk to Francesca straightaway." I stated, pushing my way towards the changing rooms.

"Fang! What the hell? One of our members get poisoned, and you don't give a shit, but you're going off to flirt with – " Iggy scolded, tugging onto the sleeve of my shirt.

"I'm not flirting, idiot!" I snapped, cutting him off. "I have this nagging suspicion that Francesca was the one who poisoned Ari!"

"You're being ridiculous…seriously, don't be stupid!" In the sudden ruckus, Iggy pushed me in the chest and onto the floor, where I collided with the nearby trash can. The crash was deafeningly loud, and with so much garbage, a few pieces of unwanted debris rolled out, hitting my foot.

The first thing that caught my eye was the empty plastic water bottle. The second was the bright-yellow packet.

I didn't even need to look twice. "Rat poison…of course…" I muttered through gritted teeth, feeling anger starting to bubble in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't just anger, however. It was a mix of emotions – confusion, anger, unhappiness, annoyance but mostly stupidity.

Why didn't I see it before?

"Bravo, bravo…" A cocky female voice drawled from the darkest corner of the empty change room, with slow, steady claps following it. I stood up abruptly, with Iggy cowering behind me slightly.

"Who's there? Show yourself." I ordered.

And to my surprise, that figure stepped out from the shadows, clad in jeans and that low-cut tank top. It was no mistake. My suspicions were now confirmed true.

"F-Francesca!" Iggy screeched, placing a hand over his mouth. "H-how is that possible? How…I mean, why? Why would you do something like this and harm your boyfriend! Are you trying to sabotage us or something?"

Francesca smirked as she tossed her hair, making it wave slightly. "Why? You're asking me why? It's been my plan all along. It was all part of this sick game that I was playing to make sure my 'boyfriend' got as close to the brink of death as possible."

Her words seriously made me want to barf. I started to feel nauseous as I tripped over my feet and had to use the nearby wooden desk for support. Nobody wants to hear about this type of stuff, especially when the person that had to suffer was someone you know.

"I'm sure you loved him." I began after a moment of silence.

Francesca's head never budged, but from the corner of my eye, I noticed that her jaw twitched.

"If you never loved him, you wouldn't have followed him to Paris in the first place." I said slowly, cracking my knuckles. "If you never loved him, you wouldn't have put up with his idiotic act for so long…and if you never loved him, you wouldn't have just used a quarter of the rat poison packet."

"W-wait a second! So, so, are you saying that Francesca was never pregnant? And that Max was telling the truth the whole time? I mean, I'm no longer pissed off or anything, but – " Iggy was totally flustered at this point, but since I am the powerful Fang (Yes, I'm kidding), I was able to tone him out.

"Shut your crap. I'm not here to listen to anything. I never loved him. I only used his emotions, and at his most vulnerable point, I ripped him apart." Her words tried to sound forceful, but there was definitely some pain in there…as if she was compelled to do this. "I did my job, and now I'm escaping." Francesca gave a quick wave before disappearing behind the change room door.

"What the shit? Is she trying to get caught or something? Cause if I were her, I'd definitely head for the emergency exit and then plan my escape route instead. Just sayin'…" Iggy commented under his breath. I hurriedly kicked the door open, but to my surprise, I found it completely empty…except for the fact that the ventilation chute was screwed open.

"What the fuck is this! Not only is she a good actress, but she's superb with mechanics too! Hmm…looks like catching her is going to be tougher than it looks. Seriously, what the shit is with models being so overly talented these days?" Iggy banged his fist against the wall angrily, but it wasn't the time to let our emotions take control.

As if right on cue, a sweet, melodic voice called from behind us. "Iggy? Fang? Is it you guys?"

Iggy whirled around almost immediately, his eyes glinting happily, despite the fact that we had a femme de fatale crawling around in our ventilation system.

"Ella, perfect timing!" I said, almost relieved. "Iggy, take Ella with you and go catch that despicable model before she gets to the control panel. I have a feeling that's her final destination."

Iggy nodded immediately and grabbed Ella by the wrist, who was totally confused about the entire situation (But on the bright side, she got to hold hands with Iggy: A total win-win situation).

When I walked back into the lounge, I glanced quickly at Manager Jeb, who was trying his best to calm down (But was failing terribly). "Are you alright, Manager Jeb? You're not looking too well…"

"Of course not," He snapped, losing all of his self control. "My son just got poisoned by his model-girlfriend-turned-sudden-assassin, the concert is turning into a total mess, the schedule's now fucked up, the band that I'm currently managing has now lost their main vocalist and by now, probably every fan out there is questioning why, I'm on the verge of breaking down and…oh, wait, one more thing…"

His eyes were now swelling up with tears.

"I have no fucking idea of my daughter's whereabouts."

Just when our hairstylist was about to comfort Manager Jeb, an idea started to form in my head. "I've…I've got the solution." From all of the horrible things that have been happening, this is the only thing that can offer all of us any comfort and reassurance.

It was crazy, but it wasn't impossible either. We just needed achievable and doable.

Everybody's head turned towards me. "What is it? Fang, hurry up and say it, please! We need any solutions as soon as possible!"

"…Max." I muttered. "She's the answer." I turned my attention towards Manager Jeb. "Find her, and you've got your solution to every single problem."

"B-but wait a second, Fang! Then…then…where are YOU going off to! You can't just abandon us at our time of need!" Manager Jeb called after he noticed I was beginning to jog (Make that sprint) towards the emergency exit. "You're up next after Gazzy and Nudge are finished!"

"I'll be back really soon, I promise." I replied, flipping out my cell phone from my pocket. "I just need to…double check something."

(Max's Point of View)

"Hey, would you look at that! It's the Staples Center!" The taxi driver commented under his breath as he pointed toward the gleaming, towering building beside us. I looked up from the palms of my hands, sucking in a deep breath before exhaling again.

Thank-you for the wonderful observation, now if you don't mind…could you please just get me to the LAX on time, and then I'd thank-you even more for your kindness and generosity.

"One Winged Angel's supposed to have their concert today, aren't they?" Either the driver has some weird sort of attachment towards me, or he's just trying to make an awkward conversation so we can talk.

Oh, right, I forgot one thing. Please shut up.

"Yeah." That's my secret weapon right there: Curt, one-worded answers always does the trick. Okay, I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm naturally irritable. Besides, Mother Nature dropped by a couple of days ago, and I'm dealing with the worst cramps possible.

"My daughter's a HUGE fan of One Winged Angel, especially of their newest member, Ari! Apparently to her, he's really talented and sometimes makes a fool of himself on camera and on radio interviews, but I guess that's just what makes him more lovable."

I couldn't help but smirk. Of course – how could I forget my first performance where I rescued Fang from the falling spotlight, or when I told the paparazzi and most of my anti-fans to put a sock on my brute masculinity?

At that moment, the taxi came to a sudden halt. I was tossed forwards, but thank God for the seatbelt. Otherwise, I'd be dealing with a pretty bad concussion (And more loss of blood). "What the hell? What happened?" I asked, looking up.

"That dude just fucking J-Walked across the street! If I wasn't that afraid of going to jail, I'd run him over! I absolutely HATE J-walkers because they always think they're the shit or something!"

Personally, I'd also agree with him (Since back in Washington, I would always drive at least ninety to ninety miles per hour on a regular basis, even in playground zones and those kids just don't know that a car is not a synonym for 'metallic horse'), but this was no ordinary j-walker who was half-sprinting, half-jogging across the slightly congested street. That person was…

"Dad!" I shrieked almost too loudly.

I quickly rolled down the window, and watched continually as car after car honked at him for J-Walking, but he didn't even stop to apologize. In fact, it looked like he was in a rush with all that sweat running down his face and his soaked top.

I whipped out my wallet and tossed some money into the shotgun seat while releasing the seatbelt. "Hey, uh, thanks for half of the ride. You can keep the change!"

"Yo, this is illegal! We can't stop here!" The driver was now receiving honks from the excessively impatient drivers behind him, but I opened the passenger door anyway. If I did get severely injured while trying to catch up with Dad, I'll be his first witness to say that the accident was completely my fault.

"Uh, of course we can? You know, I know…nobody else knows." I flung an extra one hundred dollar bill into the seat. "Use it to buy your daughter a One Winged Angel poster or t-shirt or something." I hurried towards the trunk and knocked on the metal anxiously, which sprang open in a matter of seconds.

After heaving my suitcase and sports bag out, I wheeled it across the suddenly empty street (God really knows how to play those games with me), trying my hardest to catch up with Dad and his speedy legs. "Dad! Dad! Dad, stop running right now!"

At the sound of my voice, he whirled around and stared, open-mouthed at me. "M-Max?" Finally realizing that it was me, Dad sprinted towards me and…

SLAP!

I staggered backwards from the sudden strike on the face. Okay, WTF is this? I narrowed my eyes slightly at him. "Dad? What the hell is wrong with you!"

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong!" He scolded furiously, picking up my belongings and swinging the sports bag behind his back. Oh, God, I've never seen him this angry before. This new image he's producing is certainly…frightful. "You, young lady, you ran off without a good reason! Do you realize how worried all of us were? How could you be so irresponsible?"

I rolled my eyes after brushing dust and debris off of my jeans. "Dad, I wasn't being irresponsible. I mean, I've got money, I didn't leave WITHOUT a purpose and I did leave a note!" Wow, my explanation is weak. Might as well just give in to the punishment now…

"You clearly were, and don't think you're getting away from this scot-free!" But his mouth looked less thin anyway as he pulled me into an awkward one-armed hug.

"What's wrong, though…? I'm asking rather seriously this time because you look so…so…" I winced as he started to wave his arms in the air. Gosh, the manly essences of my father…yep, definitely turns all of the ladies off. "Sweaty, filthy and tired – "

"I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now." Dad mumbled oh-too-pleasantly. "But I'm glad I found you! I was afraid I might have to jog through Downtown Los Angeles. Come along and follow me. I'll explain the rest of the way."

"The rest of the way?" I repeated, feeling slightly suspicious. My feet weren't going anywhere until he told me where we were headed off to. "To where?"

"The Staples Center, of course. Where else?"

Ah, shit.

The doorway was only a few steps away, but I wasn't budging. Or, more specifically, my feet were refusing to move any closer.

"Come ON, Max!" Dad groaned in exasperation as he, for the umpteenth time, tried to push my statuesque figure into the open, air-conditioned room. It is highly appealing, of course, especially in this twenty-seven degree weather, but…

No, just no. I can't just barge into the dressing room like that! Apparently, my father refuses to believe that I am incapable of performing anymore (Which is half true), and mostly because the remaining residents at the household – Dad excluded – probably hate my guts right now for abandoning them.

I mean, sure, I'm glad my idiotic twin brother and the rest of the members have finally realized that the psychotic girlfriend/bitch has a dark side, but it doesn't necessarily include the fact that they have forgiven me, right?

Take Iggy as an example. Is he still loathing me for being the first girl to officially break his heart?

"Dad, please! I can't go in there! There are – you know – dangerous obstructions inside that can really injure me!" Oh, dear God, another flimsy excuse to make into the "World Book of Most Stupid Excuses Ever Known to Mankind".

"Max!" Dad cried. "I know why you're refusing to go in there, and please trust me; everything is going to be fine. They've all forgotten about the past, and have forgiven you. In fact, according to the guilt that's plastered on Iggy's face just about half an hour ago, it shows that he's truly apologetic for the things he has done!"

I shook my head vigorously. "You just don't understand the things that I also have to go through! I'm sorry, Dad, but everything is just…way…too…awkward and tense between all four of us. I mean, I just left the villa yesterday, and then I show up – "

A sudden force with the strength of a fire truck rammed straight into both the sides of my body. I yelped slightly, but it wasn't long before I realized whose head had slightly wavy blonde hair, and who's skin was as dark as chocolate.

Yeah, okay, so maybe not these two.

"MAX! YOU'RE BACK! YOU'RE FINALLY BACK!" Gazzy squealed in excitement as I waddled forward with him clinging onto me like he was glued on with Super Glue.

Ah, I forgot how cute he could be (Except for the moments when his dietary habits seem to kick in).

"Gazzy? Nudge? What are you guys doing out here?" I questioned as I finally pried Gazzy's fingers off of my jacket sleeve.

"Greeting you, of course! What else?" Nudge added in cheekily, wrapping an arm around Gazzy's shoulders. "Now, come on! Everybody's waiting for you inside, and Cat seriously can't wait until she puts eyeliner on you again."

I looked up at Dad, who only grinned. Now are you willing to believe me? He mouthed to me as Gazzy and Nudge continued to jump around (Nudge especially in her four inch killers) like complete maniacs. They were just perfect for each other…seriously.

I shrugged, but deep down, I was glowing with happiness. Yeah, I guess.

Back inside the dressing room, however, it was yet another story to tell.

To my surprise, Fang wasn't there. Neither was Iggy or Ella, but I could care less for the time being. Okay, so I might've been a little bit disappointed (Make that really), but at the same time, I couldn't hide my glee when Cat rushed up to me and gave me the biggest hug possible.

Yes, I never managed to drop by and say hi to my beloved stylist the last time I went to the Staples Center for practices and rehearsals. Sue me if you must.

"Oh, I still can't believe that you've been a girl for this entire time!" She repeated for the hundredth time in a row as she reached over the counter top for the bottle of moisturizer. Yes, I was counting. "No wonder you've always had such perfectly smooth skin! And then when that stupid twin brother of yours came around, I was shocked by the amount of acne he had on his face! I mean, what type of facial scrub does he use? Creams for butt rashes?"

Needless to say, that girl was zipping through sentences as fast as Gazzy unravelling the wrappers from his cherished lollipops. But truth be told, I wasn't listening. Okay, that's a lie: I was partly listening, partly day-dreaming, but mostly wondering where the hell Mister TDL could be.

Just as Cat was putting the finishing touches onto my face, Dad stormed in with his head full of fire, scaring the crap out of all four of us (Gazzy, Nudge, Cat and I).

"What's up, Manager Jeb? You look like you could regular T-Rex!" Gazzy commented as he started to throw popcorn into the air and catch it with his mouth.

I only sighed. "You really should consider becoming a performing seal in your next life. You've got the talent."

"Of course I look like a regular T-Rex! Fang went on stage when it was supposed to be Iggy and Ella's duets!" Dad exclaimed in frustration, hurling his keys against the table. "Do you want to take a look at how he's doing right now?" After some intense rummaging for the remote control, he flicked on the plasma screen television.

Gazzy only shot him an irritated look. "Manager Jeb, calm down! You're having a mental breakdown! Didn't we agree to have Fang perform after us? You told both Iggy and I three times in the span of one minute!"

And now, appearing on screen was a very visible Fang, clad with his side-swept dark hair that meshed attractively with the white shirt and pants.

Suddenly, all of that free-flowing confidence I had inside me started to seep away as if I were a broken sand timer. Seeing him on stage made me anxious, but most importantly, intimidated. I didn't even know why I was feeling this way – was it because I was afraid of something?

Maybe…just maybe…afraid of his reaction?

Feeling sick to my stomach, I kicked open the door and rushed outside to get a breath of fresh air, but it was no use. The nauseous feeling was still there, and it wasn't going away for awhile. And get this, for no reason whatsoever, my eyes started to well up with tears. Ugh, God…

"Max! You've got to come back inside and see this! Come on!" Nudge cried, scuttling outside and yanking my arm to pull me back into the room.

"Hey everyone, it's uh…Fang here." The sound of his voice is doing me no good at all. Now, I'm on the verge of puking. "So…I know you're probably wondering why I'm here, and where the hell Ari went right?" He gave off a nervous laugh, but quickly recovered. "Don't worry about a single thing. He's here."

The crowd went ballistic once they heard Fang's confirmation that Ari (No, make that me) was okay and ready to perform, but as soon as the noise died down, there was another rush of murmurs from the sea of lights and then it was back to the shrill screams.

"Now, now! Calm down, everyone," Fang said, chuckling slightly as he made his way to the center of the stage. The daisies at his feet were overflowing by the second, but he didn't even seem to be wary of the obstruction that could cause him a fatal concussion.

Which, of course, would be very, very bad, indeed.

"I know what you guys are talking about. It's about my most recent blog post, isn't it?" He asked. "You guys are probably worried about me…like, why in the world would I write something that deep, anyway? It's not my style, I don't usually do mushy…and I don't do romance."

Gazzy looked sceptical. "Wait a sec, romance? What the heck is this guy talking about? I've never heard about any blog before…and I've never even read a single post from him either!"

Dad snorted. "You're telling me. I guess this is just his way of communicating and connecting with his fans."

Not necessarily, Dad, you won't believe the amount of curses he uses in his online rants sometimes…I chewed my lower lip nervously as Fang opened his mouth to speak again.

"But um…" Fang started to scratch the back of his head, not knowing how to start. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…that I have a confession to make."

My ears perked up as I glanced at the screen.

"Everything that I wrote on my blog last night is not bullshit." And we interrupt his story with shrieks and harsh cussing. It figures, though. He is still deemed one of the most betrothed idol singers in America.

"Roughly about a month and a half ago," He seated himself against the edge of the rising platform, where white smoke was now emitting to create a cloudy effect. Staples Center really puts in the money and effort…but we're not talking about that right now.

"I met a girl. To make it easier to refer to, let's just call her Max for the time being." Fang said, almost in a daze. Or maybe it's because the smoke is getting into his eyes, I don't know. I wasn't even infuriated with the fact that he used my name out in public. Strange, I know.

"But you know what? She wasn't your typical 'female'," Fang continued, pinching his fingers. "She was…in most cases when I interacted with her…very tomboyish. Her hair was cut stylishly short…stylish, but still boyish." I flipped my now shoulder-length hair. I'll agree with him though: During the beginning of my vacation, my most charming point was the boyish cut.

"She could literally punch the crap out of someone if that time came, and let's just say…she's definitely not the perfect housewife. I mean, how often is it that you fail to make a cake with mix straight from the box?" At this comment, Gazzy ribbed me hard. I only shot him a dangerous 'You'll be sorry' death glare before returning back to the screen.

"Yet, even with all of these flaws, the more I got to interact and communicate with her, the more I started to focus on her personality…and um, it just shone through. She might not make the best brownies, but she doesn't need to make pastries and deliver them to the homeless to be considered 'sweet'."

I only sat there, completely stunned at his comments. Don't judge me – I know you'd feel the same way!

"Here's a few examples of the things Max did. She helped me…reunite with my originally estranged family. She…took care of a fellow member, more specifically Iggy, when he underwent his corneal transplant…and God; there are so many more things I can list about her." Fang's mouth started to thin into an obvious frown.

"But then, I guess you can say that tragedy kind of struck the two of us. Her older brother returned after a month and a half's hiatus…along with the bitchiest of the bitches, her sibling's super hot model girlfriend." At that, I seriously had to give off a laugh. Way to describe her, Fang.

"When they returned, everything just literally fell apart. Because the hot girlfriend was deemed 'pregnant' when she seriously was still on her period, the two accused her of doing things that I know, for sure, she would never dream of doing in her entire life." Fang continued. I'm telling you right now: It's a freaky sight to see motionless flashing lights and hear nothing but Fang tell his story.

"She did her best to put a smile on her face every single day for the rest of us, helping all three of us train to make sure our vocals were in excellent condition before our concert, but she's no Iron Man. She has her breaking point, and it struck her just last night." By this point, I, myself, was also frowning. I never considered myself to have any breaking points, ever. Even way back in high school when I was ridiculed for going out with something that was like a foot shorter than me, I brushed them off by kicking their asses on the field (Okay, not necessarily that way, but you know what I mean).

But right now, his sentence seems to hold true. I'm made of flesh, bone, blood and tissue (And plenty more bodily fluids), but tin or other metals. I didn't exactly have my breaking point last night. In fact, it broke the moment Ari delivered that blow yesterday afternoon.

"…And when we returned home from shooting the short film," God, even his voice sounded sad. When I glanced at Nudge, I swear I saw her sniffling. "All she left me was a note, saying that she needs to back out of my life so I can live better. What nonsense is that? Now THAT, fans, is what I would call crappy excuses."

"So now, all I'm asking for is this. Max, if you're out there, are you listening to my confession right now? Did you hear what I just said? If you didn't, it's okay, because here's the most important part." Fang sucked in a deep breath before standing up again.

Dad squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. "See how much he's changed because of you?"

"I love you."

It's these three simple words that made every single fan in that auditorium shed tears of sadness – but it wasn't because that their impossible dream of dating their idol was officially demolished. It was because of Fang's story…or I guess it's easier to call it our story.

Usually, I'd call this stuff cheesy and lame. I mean, I've emphasized this before, but I am definitely NOT a romantic person. Whenever I see people proposing at the 'perfect place', or celebrate 'month-sarys', I'd deem it stupid.

But now, it's like a rush of emotions have flooded into the very pit of my stomach, but instead of making me nauseous, it made me feel…affectionate and loved. Does that make sense? Have you ever felt the same way?

Fang reached into the back of his pocket and lifted out a piece of paper. "I'm not too excellent with song-writing, but here's a small excerpt from a song that I wrote for her. Um…I was going to give it to her as a present, but I guess there's no point anymore." So it was carefully folded sheet music that was in the box!

Geez, and I thought it was a ring. Still, I'm touched at the thought.

"It's every singers' dream to write a song for that special person they care about, and I'm glad I managed to do so. I'd like to share this with everyone, and I also hope that you find that one perfect man or woman in your life."

The low chords from the piano sounded steadily, as well as the occasional strums provided by acoustic guitar. Fang placed the microphone near his mouth to sing. I was still so shaken up from that confession that I didn't even notice anything else anymore. Even with Nudge's intense sobbing, I toned that out because all I could see was him.

Love makes the world go round? I say love makes everyone go crazy.

"One man loves you…he loves you with all his heart, he follows you around like a shadow everyday…that man cries as he laughs…" Fang's face was so full of emotion; my heart seemed to slice itself in half when I looked at the pain in his eyes.

"Just how much…how much more do I have to gaze at you alone? This love that came like the wind, this love that acts like a beggar…if I continue this way, will you love me too? Just come a little nearer…a little more…" It won't be any longer, Fang. It won't be.

"If I take a step towards you, you take two steps back. I, who loves you, is next to you even now…yet now I still cry…" I stood up from my seat and hurried towards the dark alley. I didn't even want to listen to the rest of the song anymore, but it wasn't because I detested it, no.

On the contrary, I loved it, but I'd rather experience this sensation live than through a television screen.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Dad screamed at the top of his lungs, waving his arms for my attention. "You can't go out there yet! Max! Max! Are you listening to me?"

I didn't even care anymore. He was up there. He, the one that I wanted, the one that I know I love. I wasn't going to let him go this time.

As soon as I walked into the dim lighting of the stage (Clearly hidden from view), Fang was still singing. "Do you know that man is me? Are you doing this to me because you know it? You probably don't know…because you're a fool."

I raised my own microphone at the pause when all traces of music disappeared, except for the raising screams from One Winged Angel's fans. "Fang, are you sure about that? Do you really think that I'm that stupid?"

A sudden thud indicated that Fang had dropped his microphone, but he quickly recovered, I'm sure. "Max? Are you here…?"

I took in a deep breath but ascending up the stairs that eventually made its way to the top of the stage. With the spotlight finding its way towards me, I gave the audience a quick bow, who also responded with shrill gasps. "Hey everyone, it's me. Um…my name is Max, and I am…indeed…the girl that Fang was talking about just now."

The raised platform descended quickly, and Fang, staring woebegone at me with widened eyes, walked closer and closer towards me.

"I heard everything, Fang…" I muttered as our faces were only inches apart. His surprised expression soon became replaced with affection. "And I want you to know that…" I stood onto my tip toes and brushed my lips against his cheek. "I feel the same – "

"FANG! LOOK OUT!" An ear-splitting screechy voice screamed from above.

BANG!

"Duck and cover, Max!" He screamed. Without realizing it, Fang had wrapped his arms around me and whirled around. Eventually, the two of us had crashed onto the floor, and it was only then when I realized what had happened.

We were shot at.

"Oh, God, thank-you, Fang! Are you al – "

But my voice seemed to have disappeared. I couldn't even manage a single sentence, because as soon as my hand left his back to caress his cheek, I almost screamed.

My shaking palms and fingers were now coated in a thick sheen of blood.

He never said he'd take a bullet for me. I never intended for him to do so.

But he just did, and he could be dying, right here, right now, because of me. God, Fang, why are you this...

Why do you need to play hero games at a time like this?

SO! What do you think is going to happen to Fang now! I'm actually quite happy to say that this officially concludes My Fair Lady. BWAHAHA XDD No, I'm kidding. I've got the Epilogue left to write! So once again, I'd just like to give off a BIG, BIG thank-you to my reviewers, favouriters, alerters and just...readers in general! C: Thank-you for the support that you've given this story. I couldn't be more blessed to have a great bunch of online readers like you guys! Seriously, reading your reviews just makes my world go round. C: As usual, your comments, constructive criticism and reviews are LOVED! C:

I'll be writing the Epilogue soon, but in the meantime, I hope you guys are having a fantastic start to school! Push yourselves so you can do the best to your ability, but at the same time, remember to save time and energy on the things you love! C: I'll see you guys again real soon! Take care!

Luff,

Sam C: