Max's Note: Welcome to Confessions of an All-American Blonde, otherwise titled "FML". I'm Max, the ever cheerful protagonist. That's right, I'm feeling just peachy, just fu-

Max, don't be a drama queen. I have something to clear up with the readers first.

*Taps mic* Ahem.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!

Also, I don't own Beyblade. Okay, Max, off you go.

Max's Note Continued: -ing peachy. I'd tell you what day of the week it is but I don't know, or care. The author would like to note that the random humour has been cut down considerably and in fact, this chapter isn't very funny. Let's just get this over with. Rip off the band-aid or whatever.

Dear Diary,

Shoot me in the face.

Love, Max.

Max, with his horribly DISGUSTING hair. That is me. Hi, I'm ugly Max. Nice to meet you.

Standing in front of my mirror, gaping in horror, I felt my hands clench and my mind buzz. Max does not have bad hair days. If he did, he would not be Max, because Max does not have bad hair days and therefore does NOT have bad hair days. Why? Because he's Max.

And yet here I am, my hair sticking up at every angle. Some locks are frizzy, some wavy, some looking like something Dr. Seuss would come up with. Also, I look lobster-tastic with my beet red skin. Who are you, reflection, and what have you done with me?

Good Lord, save me. Hair gods, where are you when I need you? I wonder if there's a religion with a god of hair I could convert to.

Developing a plan to sacrifice Tyson to the hair gods I ran my fingers through the yellow tangles and looked in the mirror hopefully. What was it mom always used to do to get it all shiny and bouncy? I can't remember, I always spent the whole time complaining…

I rummaged and pulled on torn jeans and a T-shirt followed by a white sweater. It was hot out, but my lobster claws (which others might refer to as arms, were they not burnt to a crisp in the sun a day previously) did not need to be in plain view. My room was clean except for my unmade bed and my empty coffee cup from earlier this morning. A warm tropical breeze came through the window and, irritably, I went over and slammed it shut before sitting on the floor stubbornly. Kai would come knocking in thirty seconds and I would not leave my room. Instead, I will sit here on the floor.

"Max."

There it was; the knocking noise and my name being called through the door. I stared at the floor and ignored it.

"Max?"

Kai was used to me opening the door with a bright smile and a ready-to-go attitude. Ray will have already left his room with that complacent expression of his, looking pleased to be awake. After me Kai will go to Tyson, who will whine and throw pillows for an hour and a half. Not today, my friends, not today. I may have to throw a Class A temper tantrum.

"Max, get up."

"No."

"You're awake now, you might as well."

Wow, he wasn't yelling for once. He was trying to reason with me, but his so called 'logic' would not penetrate my hair to reach my brain. "We don't have to do anything anyway," was my stony response as I started to get to my feet in search of something large to throw.

"Yes we do. We're going out for breakfast."

I felt my stomach turn over at the thought of buttermilk pancakes as a lie sprung to my lips. "I don't want any."

"Yes you do."

He knows me too well, I guess. I heard footsteps and knew they were Ray's, since Tyson won't be up until 11:00. "What's going on?"

"Max won't get up."

I heard the door knob turn and dove under the covers. Without a word I recognized the weightless feeling of Ray on the side of my mattress.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Maybe I'm not so good at this temper tantrum thing. Under the blankets I fumbled to pull up the hood of my white fleece-lined sweater just in time for Ray to pull the comforter off of me.

"Um, Max, you're dressed."

I curled my faded jean clad legs against my chest. "So?"

Kai looked like he was pretending not to be confused. Ray suddenly gasped.

"It's your hair!"

I clapped a hand over the golden bangs falling in front of my eyes. "How did you know? You - you're a WITCH!"

"No, I just – whatever, let me fix it, okay? One second."

Ray jumped off the bed and ran silently to his room. He returned and before I could protest had pulled down my hood with the side of his arm and ran his already cream-coated hands through my hair.

Metrosexual to the rescue, huh?

Kai rolled his eyes and left the room as I glanced nervously in the mirror, but Ray eventually managed to work out the weird twists with a comb. Finally he stood back and admired his work.

"Ray, you're weird," I sighed as I heaved myself off the bed, feeling uncharacteristically exhausted. "But thanks."

"You sound miserable," was his response. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Tyson!" Ray called out into the hallway. "What did you do to Max?"

"Ray, shut up!" I hissed. "Don't let him think – too late."

A pyjama pants clad Tyson had flung himself into my room and was lying on the floor on his face.

"MAXIE!"

"Tyson, I'm fine!" He didn't appear to listen as he leapt up, threw his arms around me and knocked me onto the floor with him.

"Ow! Ty – ow, my – my SKIN! OW!"

Tyson did not notice the agony he was causing. Instead, he started interrogating me. "Maxie, my lobster, what happened? Why aren't you smiling, bud? What's wrong, friend? What can I do for you, pal?"

I forced him off of me. "Forget it. Let's get breakfast. Ty, get dressed. You have to look nice so that I can sacrifice you."

He didn't seem to catch the last part. "I'm dressed enough for breakfast."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No shirt, no shoes, no service," Ray threw in as he made his way out of my room after opening the window again. "Put on a shirt and shoes and we'll go get you some food."

Tyson nodded and hungrily set off for Kai's closet, probably to eat his shoes or something as an appetizer. I looked in the mirror at my stinging lobster skin and sighed as I followed them out of my room.

That was a mistake. The second I left the house I tripped over my shoelace and face planted onto the pavement. Then as we got in the car I hit my head. Five minutes later my seatbelt locked and I nearly suffocated as Kai drove along as if this were a Mario Kart race, dodging cars, aiming for mushrooms and so on. I fell out of the car when we parked at the breakfast buffet.

"Max, your nose is bleeding," Kai said conversationally as I stumbled towards the breakfast buffet.

"No shit, I just fell on my face."

"Maybe you should… fix it."

"Maybe you should shut up," I said moodily, wiping my face with my sleeve.

"Maybe you should lighten up," Ray threw in.

"Maybe you should mind your own business."

"Maybe you should buy me a pet ferret," Tyson added smartly.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," Ray suggested to Tyson.

"Maybe your MOM should see a doctor," Ty countered. "Hey, Max, your nose is bleeding. Maybe you should –"

Before he could finish my phone started ringing. It played 'If you're Happy and You Know It' so I answered as quickly as my hand allowed.

"Hey, Max."

"I told you not to call here."

"I'm coming to visit you tonight."

I stopped dead, gaping at the pavement. The others stared at me (that is except Tyson, who was staring avidly at a pine cone).

I'm pretty sure I was silent for fifteen minutes, listening to my mom going "Max, honey, are you there? Did something happen?" and feeling Tyson poking my leg with a stick he found. I eventually allowed Ray and Kai to close the phone and steer me to sit down on the pavement.

"Kai…"

"No, Ray, you have to do it."

"Oh, but – But Kai! You're the captain!"

"It was your idea."

"B-but – I can't!"

Eventually Kai heaved a sigh and sat down beside me. "Max, Ray had a really stupid idea last night."

"Are you going to describe your first time together? Honestly, that's great, but I can't stomach that right now, thanks."

Kai rolled his eyes. "Where the hell do you get this stuff?"

"So what was his idea, drugs? Streaking? Grand theft auto?"

"Actually, he decided not to put real sugar in your coffee cup."

Ray mumbled something about 'good for your health', but I ignored him and looked at Kai earnestly.

"So you mean… there's nothing wrong with me?"

"Max, there is a lot wrong with you."

"I mean in comparison to what's normal."

"Nothing about you is normal."

"Normal for me."

"Nothing is normal for you."

"Kai, just say yes."

"Yes."

"YES!" I yelled, jumping up. "Let's get pancakes, then go back and bolt the doors several thousand times so that my mom needs a chainsaw to get in."

"Is that really necessary?" Ray asked, looking relieved that I hadn't cried or something.

"Yeah, 'fraid it is."

"Chainsaws? Can I eat those?" Tyson asked, bobbing up and down behind Ray.

"Go for it," Kai shrugged. Ray and I exchanged sheepish smiles as the four of us walked closer to the pancakes. I mean, restaurant. God, I haven't had any sugar all day!

The buffet line was one of the most beautiful sights in my life. I got my pancakes and doused them in butter, syrup and even a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The care it took to put this together seamlessly was great for not having to watch the disgusting spectacle that is Ty, although I did notice Kai miming shooting himself in the face and Ray telling him to stop being so rude.

As Tyson dug through a heap of eggs and bacon I spotted a three foot high flame which was being used to cook… something. I didn't care. It was perfect.

"Muah ha ha ha ha! I sacrifice this fire to the Hair Gods!" I cried, throwing Tyson's cap into the flames.

"NO!" he roared, running after it. I watched him try to put out the flames with butter as Kai laughed demurely. Ray took this as a chance to dump Tyson's full plate onto the floor before slumping back onto his chair, exhausted from exposure to such lack of manners. I grinned and finished my pancakes as Tyson returned to the table without his cap, instead with a plate of sausages. Ray put his head down on the table in horror.

"Can you sacrifice all of him next time?" Kai asked me subtly as Ty dug into his sausages.

The devil just walked into our rented home.

I think I may have cried had I not eaten a bag of sour candy, four cookies and downed a cup of sweet tea. Instead I smiled cheerfully and allowed her to criticize me for four and a half hours.

"And Max, you have shadows under your eyes."

"The sun doesn't reach there, see."

"Get more sleep."

"You told me ten minutes ago to wake up earlier."

"Well, go to bed earlier."

"You said that I should stay up at night studying. Shall I invent a time machine?"

Mom rolled her eyes and patted my leg as I shrunk away in an 'awkward, please don't touch me there' kind of way. "It's okay, just take naps during the day. So, any girlfriends?"

"Mom."

"What? You're old enough now, aren't you?"

"Mom, I am really uncomfortable right now."

"So you've never been kissed, have you? I bet your friend Ray would do it." Ray, who had been reading on the couch opposite, looked up and winked at me. We both started laughing uncontrollably, his book sliding onto the floor.

"No thanks," I grinned at Ray.

"Oh, okay. What about… What girls do you know? Hilary?"

"MOM!"

"What? What's wrong with girls? Okay, okay, what about Kai?"

I put my face in my hands, put my hands on the coffee table, missed and slipped onto the floor. "Can you stop playing matchmaker and start leaving, please?" I asked, my voice muffled into the carpet.

"Not until you let me organize your suitcase, Max."

Lordy lord. And she wonders why I moved to Japan.

"I'm old enough to organize my suitcase."

"But not old enough to have a real relationship, right?"

"What do you know about – oh, whatever."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not. See?" I put on an enormous smile, fighting not to move my face. "Shrr urrhh yrhhh levvvhhn?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you leaving?"

"At least let me fold your socks, I know you never do it."

"Yeah, because it's stupid."

"Folding socks is not stupid."

Way to lay down the law, mom.

I will hold your motherly lessons close to my heart for the rest of my life.

I understand fully now: folding socks is in fact the most intelligent thing one can waste an hour and a half on. (I'm not kidding, she actually worked on it for that long). How could I have been led so astray? How could my socks have gone so long, lost, alone and unfolded?

Where would I be in life without this information? In bed is where I would be, since I wouldn't have typed that last paragraph and would instead have gone to sleep.

Speaking of which, night night, world.

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

I have some important items for you, actually. Here they are:

1. I think we're beyond the point of apologies now, given that I haven't updated in three years. In my time off I've been doing a LOT of general fiction writing and I think my skills have improved enough for me to throw in a plot – what do you think?

2. I couldn't dive back into FFNet without lurking a bit first, of course. In my lurking I have fallen in love with the Max/Kai ship. This story will, of course, remain ship-less, but forgive me if I hint towards them by accident!

3. I am now capable of writing more than just comedy. The story may end up having some slightly darker or more emotional moments. I'm still going to keep it funny, though!

4. In my absence an author called Purple-Kissed-Wishes posted a story called Confessions of a Blader (the sequel is Chronicles of Max). While they have a slightly similar context, I stopped updating this one three years ago. Thus, any similarities in the general setup of both stories are PURELY COINCIDENTAL. Additionally, it's a great read! That's right, go read it, why are you still here?