A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've been studying hard for my exams. But now they are over so I should hopefully have lots more time to write. Enjoy…

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

Chapter Five: The Parade

There is a loud knock at the door. Fang calmly collects his shirt and covers up his wings. His wings! I cannot believe that he has been able to keep this secret from me. My mind cannot even begin to comprehend it.

I scramble to get into a natural position and close my eyes so that it looks like I've been sleeping.

Fang opens the door and it takes a lot of self-control not to peek at whom it is. Luckily, there's a lot going on in my head to distract me.

"The girl's presence is requested for the parade," the person at the door tells Fang forcefully.

"I thought the parade wasn't until tonight," Fang counters.

"The Director wants her looking her best. So Angel will be doing her makeup."

Without waiting for a reply, I hear the man's heavy footfalls as he leaves.

Fang closes the door and my eyes spring open.

"What's going on?" I demand.

Fang runs his hand through his hair and lets out his breath. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed without looking at me.

"The parade is the Director's way of making more money. Basically, the best fighters are put on display in the streets. The commoners get a chance to see the fighters and the rich get the chance to assess the 'goods'. You can be bought for a single night by the highest bidder."

My mouth drops open. "Wh-what exactly are they buying us for?"

"Not for a picnic, that's for sure." He winces at my shocked expression. "It depends on the buyer. Sometimes they want their purchases to fight. Sometimes they want to degrade them by treating them as slaves. But mostly…it's sexual."

I gulp. My body begins to tremble.

"Is there anything you can do?" I finally ask.

Fang doesn't meet my eyes. "I won't be allowed to attend the parade, Max. This is the Director's way of warning me not to get too attached to you. He's getting suspicious about why I've kept you around for so long. It's a threat."

"So—" I swallow. "So, you're just going to let someone rape me?"

His shoulders crumple then, and I see him pinch the bridge of his nose. Although I am extremely upset myself, I crawl across the bed to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He turns and brings me into his embrace and buries his head in my neck.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

I try not to blame him, but I can't help but feel shattered. He is my knight in shining armour, but he is going to let me down on something so important. I can't help the tears that escape and run tracks down my cheeks.

No more words are spoken after that. What else is there to say? He leads me towards the whorehouse and leaves me with a prostitute named Angel. She is possibly a year younger than me with bright blonde hair and big blue eyes. I try not to look behind any of the shimmery pink sheets that are used to block off rooms. Angel leads me to the only room with a door and shuts it firmly behind her.

The room is beautiful, with a large king sized bed and a dresser with a gilded mirror. Delicate decorations are everywhere, scattered along the bookshelves and dangling from the walls. There is a fairly extensive wine rack against one wall and a violin sitting on top of a bunch of sheet music.

"I'm his favourite," Angel says. Her voice is light and musical.

"Ex-excuse me?"

"The Director. I'm his favourite. So he showers me with gifts. It could be worse, really."

I can't imagine anything worse than being a prostitute. But then again, up until a little while ago I had lived a fairly sheltered and comfortable life.

Angel sits me down in front of the dresser. There is an assortment of perfume bottles and makeup scattered everywhere. If I wasn't so terrified about tonight, I might be charmed by such a girly display of beauty.

Angel is assessing me with her knowing eyes. She taps her fingers against her chin as she studies me.

"Well, first of all I'm going to need to clean you up if I'm going to be able to see what I'm dealing with," she says. "I can hardly even tell that you're a girl underneath that grime."

I'm horrified. Has Fang been disgusted by my filthiness this entire time? But then I remember that I'm not getting cleaned up for Fang, but some nameless monster.

Angel enters an adjoining room and I can hear water running into a bathtub. I'm impressed that she has working plumbing. It's a luxury that only the richest can afford. The Director must really like her.

She beckons me into the bathroom and I start to panic. My wings! She'll see my wings! Before I can do anything, she undresses me. I barely have time to be embarrassed before she's pushing me into the tub and scrubbing the grime from my body. The water smells like roses. She gives my wings a cursory glance, but doesn't say anything. I am shaking with nerves.

She hands me the soap – a full bar – and tells me to wash the parts underwater. Then she uses actual shampoo and conditioner on my hair. She repeats for good measure. I cannot believe that such a resource is being wasted on me. She surprises me when she soaps up my wings.

She dries me off with a towel and then takes a step back, the towel still clutched in her hand. She appraises my completely bare body. I cannot help the flush that rises to my cheeks.

"No wonder the Director sent you to me. You have a lot of potential. You will make him a lot of money tonight," Angel states. I wonder how that can be true. As soon as my 'buyer' sees my wings, they will execute me.

Angel fetches some lingerie from her massive pile. The black lacy garments make a stark contrast against my pale skin. I roll on fishnet stockings that connect to a garter belt. I feel absolutely ridiculous… and nervous. Angel appraises me and hands me a slinky silver dress that shimmers and shines. It completely covers my wings, which is a relief.

"Sit," Angel orders, directing me to her dresser. She pulls the chair out so that it is facing her. At this point I am barely containing my emotions. I don't want to freak out in front of her, but the panic is rising. I can only imagine what tonight is going to entail.

She starts applying my makeup with a precision that speaks of lots of practice. I cannot see what she is doing, but it seems to take a long time.

"Max, your eyes are watering!" she snaps as she applies mascara.

"I can't help it," I reply. I'm not exactly used to this sort of thing.

"Take your mind off it," she tells me more gently.

"Okay… can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Angel replies as she deftly applies my eye makeup.

"Why haven't you said anything about my wings?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth in concentration.

"Well, it's kind of a big deal."

"The Director has a few Winged girls at his disposal. It's one of his kinks. In fact, that's why I'm his favourite."

My eyes widened, which pissed Angel off. "Stop that!"

"You mean you have wings?" I cannot believe it. This is just too unreal.

"You betcha. He gets his kicks from dominating the 'enemy'. I just assumed he already knew about your wings."

I swallow. Does this mean she will turn me in?

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, love. I wont tell. It's not my place," she says with a wink. I relax slightly.

"But they'll find out tonight."

"You'll just have to take his mind off of it," she replied. I took a deep breath, wondering exactly what that would entail.

When Angel is done with my makeup, she allows me to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection startles me. I can't even recognise the face in the mirror. My eyes are dark and smoky, my lips a soft pink, my cheeks contoured to perfection. I look like a hooker. Which I suppose is the point. I will away the tears at the back of my throat. I will deal with this. I will survive this. And if I get an opportunity, I will escape this.

Angel moves on to my hair next, curling each piece to perfection. When she is done, not a hair on my head is out of place. I stare at myself in the mirror, not ready to accept that this is really happening to me. As a final touch, Angel ties a ribbon into my hair.

The perfect bow for this perfect gift.

"One more thing," Angel murmurs as she moves to rummage through her stuff. She hands me a pair of silver stilettos.

"I cannot walk in those," I tell her, shaking my head vigorously.

"You're seriously worried about the shoes right now?" she asks with a raised eyebrow and I have to concede her point.

The shoes are the last things I should be worrying about.

Maybe I'll trip and break my leg and this whole thing will be called off.

Yeah…probably not.

x

x

x

I'm ushered onto a makeshift platform with the other girls. This close to the open sky, I'm tempted to try and fly. But the sight of dozens of guards on the surrounding roofs puts me off the idea. It would take two seconds for an arrow to pierce my heart.

The other girls are too nervous to pay me any attention. I'm glad that they haven't tried to push me off the platform yet. I can't see Lissa yet, but I'm tempted to push her overboard when I do.

A bunch of slaves start to pull the platform by ropes so that it starts to move. We all grab onto something at the unexpected momentum. I glance at the girls around me and notice that they too are covered in makeup. Some of them – the more prominent fighters and the pretty ones – have nice dresses on. The others look drab in comparison. I feel better knowing that I'm not the only one all dressed up. Although my silver dress stands out in the crowd.

A crowd has gathered on the streets. Dirty faces peer up at us as we slowly inch past. The guards form a barricade between any die-hard fans and us. I feel like a caged animal being gawked at by the masses.

Some of the other girls start to wave and the crowd eats it up. They start to push forward as they point out their favourite fighters to their friends. They try to figure out who is who based on what we're wearing. Some of the richer townspeople start naming us for the poor's viewing pleasure. I feel a prickling along my neck when all the attention shifts to me.

They've figured out who I am.

And the crowd goes wild.

I feel kind of sick and kind of proud at the same time.

I feel a presence beside me. It's Lissa. She sneers at me.

"Even when you haven't been fighting you're the crowd favourite. I wish they knew how weak you really are. You couldn't stop me from hurting you." She smiles sweetly. "What's wrong, not going to smile for your fans?"

A lazy grin takes over my face as my bruised side throbs in reminder. She has no idea how I've been plotting my revenge against her. She thinks she's safe out in public, but I know better.

My smile seems to throw her off.

I take a step towards her and she flinches. My smile gets impossibly bigger.

"This is just the beginning," I warn her.

Then I grab a handful of her red hair and yank her head down. Next I grab her arm, pull it behind her body and pull it up until I hear a pop. I shove her towards the other girls and they jump to catch her. Her shoulder has been dislocated.

I drop a clump of her hair on the platform and start to laugh.

The crowd gazes at me in astonishment before I hear cheers.

I never wanted to be violent. But this place has already changed me. Hardened me.

I stare down the street, knowing that at the end of this ridiculous parade will be a private auction.

I'm not planning on rolling over and spreading my legs. I will not lose my virginity at the hands of a criminal.

At least…that's what I thought.

A/N: Please review. I appreciate every single one.