Writing each fanfiction chapter is like running a marathon because it is so exhausting not being lazy.

MPOV

Waking up the next morning felt like I was being revived from the dead. My eyes burned with lack of sleep as I watched the dust motes swirl about in the rays of morning sun; when I swallowed, the rawness of my throat made me cringe. There was a dull ache in my ribs, sore from all the sobs that had been wrung out of me the night before. I felt unusually naked, as if I had just exposed my secrets to the entire world when really, all I had done was allow myself to be vulnerable in front of Fang.

Fang. His name doused a similar alertness that would come from cold water over me. I jolted up in bed, eyes darting around as I scrambled to glue together the memories from last night. The last thing I remembered was reading Fang's story about how he had tricked a boy in his second grade class into eating a yellow crayon…and after that, I couldn't remember what happened. I must have fallen asleep. Fingering the comforter pooling around my hips, I wondered if Fang had tucked me in bed last night. A blush crept up my cheeks as I thought about how embarrassing it was to fall asleep out on the balcony as he tried to cheer me up. It was mortifying.

Pushing a strap of my tank top back up my shoulder, I jounced out of bed to go start the day. Since it was the weekend, my mother wouldn't leave work to come back home until early Monday morning. Which meant I had some shopping to do to make sure the house's food and necessities would be all restocked before she came back.

After a quick shower, I slipped inside Ella's room and gently shook her out of the soft rhythm of snores. She blinked a couple times, then rolled onto her back to peer quizzically at me. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to the store. Do you or Angel need anything?"

Burying her head back inside the pillow, she huffed out a muffled, "No," that made my lips twitch. For a moment, I sat back on my heels and waited until she fell asleep. When those snores filtered back out from the pillow again, I sighed inwardly.

"Brian's back, Ells," I whispered, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hear me. "And I'm so scared. What am I going to do?"

The question hung limply in the air, feeling so heavy that it seemed to wilt over me. It festered over, its poisons seeping out and contaminating the air. Saying it now suddenly made Brian a very real, tangible threat. I had to wonder how much time I had left; how many more lazy weekend mornings I would wake up to.

I heaved myself up from the floor and padded out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind me. Downstairs, there were keys dusting over in a small candy dish stashed away in the corner of one of the cupboards. I scooped them up, zipped up my hoodie, then went out in the garage to the spare car my mother only let me use for my weekly shopping trips. It was nothing special—just a nondescript, old BMW we had picked up along one of our moves—but I had still fallen in love with it during the rare times I got to take it out.

This new town was on the smaller side, housing only two grocery stores: one corporate, and one tiny whole foods store. I opted to go to the whole foods one, not caring if my sisters didn't like the healthier options; there would be less people in the store, and therefore less opportunities for someone to see me.

Sure enough, as I parked the car and started inside the shop, there was absolutely no one milling around. One employee, bored and exhausted from hours of working, wheeled a cart over to me, and I accepted it with a fragile smile. Here, with the smooth jazz lightly trickling down to my ears, it was the perfect place to collect my thoughts as I shuffled leisurely down the aisles, picking up necessities along the way. I had to guess what brands to get for everything since they all looked odd and vaguely foreign, but I didn't mind; it was all pretty much the same anyway.

My mind wandered as I shopped, and somehow ended up on Fang. What was that boy up to? I thought with a faint smile. A tingly feeling spread from my stomach and into my veins, warming my skin against the chill of the produce section. It was so strange to think that someone outside my sisters actually cared about me. Usually, everyone allowed me to slip silently under the radar, leaving me to deal with the pain of my mother on my own. But now—even if he didn't know the specifics—I had someone to rely on, someone to go to when the weight of the world was making my knees quake. Because Fang knew; he knew what pain was in its naked form, so he never judged me. It was a nice change from the other schools I had attended. Even J.J never bothered me about my muteness.

Thinking about my friends made it possible for me to forget the entity of Brain that was looming over my head. I strolled down the bread aisle with a stupid grin smattered on my face and paused to examine the dates on a loaf of whole wheat bread. Maybe it would be okay to tell Fang about Brian; maybe Fang would be able to help me through the situation.

Just then, there was a smooth whisper at my ear. "What a lovely shirt. Is it silk?"

A pair of hands groped up under the hem of my blouse, and I whirled away, shocked. One look at his face, and my skin drained of color. My breath hitched, and I nearly dropped the loaf of bread I was holding.

"D-Damien?" I stuttered, taking another step back and checking over my shoulder.

Back at the school in Dakota, Brian and Damien were a known double threat. Everything they did had been performed together since they were five. So if Damien was in the store….

He smirked, his tongue flicking out to toy with his lip ring as he studied me. Not wanting to hang around with him, I abandoned my cart and turned to run as fast as I could from the store. But Damien was faster; he appeared in front of me and slammed his hands down on opposite shelves, barring me from the exit. I began to tremble, the scar that ribboned about my chest scorching me raw.

"Don't worry," he said sweetly. "Brian's not here today. No need to act like a scared, little cat."

I gulped and tried to ease the panicked look from my face as best as I could. "Why are you here?"

His teeth gleamed with twisted pleasure. "What? Not happy to see me, Maxine?"

Flinching as though he had slapped me, I felt myself shrink. Usually I held myself strong, confident, fierce, so that people would get the message that I didn't want to be messed with. But now, with Damien towering over me and using the formal name I used to go by…well, I just felt small. Weak. Negligible.

"Don't call me that," I whispered meekly.

Damien chuckled beneath his breath and leaned forward, trying to meet my averted eyes. His finger curled out, coiling a strand of my caramel brown hair around it. I smacked him away instinctively, which only made him more amused.

"My, my," he murmured. "How pretty one year has made you." His hands cupped my face, allowing for him to peer openly at me. I flinched, but otherwise stood stark still as those strong hands slid down my neck, rounded my shoulders, and grazed the tops of my breasts. "Seems you've finally filled out."

I shoved hard on his chest. "Get off of me!"

"Everything alright over here?"

Both of us whirled like deer caught in headlights to see an older gentleman with a manager plate tagged to the white dress shirt that was straining over his bulging stomach. He took in my frightened expression with kind, welcoming brown eyes, but I turned my gaze to the floor. The last thing I needed was someone else getting hurt trying to help me.

"Yes, we're fine, thank you," Damien's smooth voice fabricated.

I felt the manager's concerned expression burning into my head. "Is that true, young miss?"

I could only manage a weak nod.

"Alright. Well, I'll be around if you need me." Another curt nod from me, then I heard the pitter-patter of his footfalls as he walked away.

"Look," started Damien. He grabbed onto my arm, gruffly spinning me around to face him. When I tried to tug away, his fingers dug in deeper. "I came as a warning to you, so you better be fucking grateful."

I shrank back at his growl, head tilting down feebly; like a mute puppy dog. I made myself sick. How could I let these two insolent boys hold so much power over me after an entire year of being free from their clutches? All they saw me as was a toy, something to come back to every now and again just to terrorize until their stomachs hurt from laughter.

You listen to me, Little Bird. I believe in you. You are such a strong, invincible person.

Eyes blazing, I snapped my neck up, locked glares with Damien, then shot out a direct kick right where the sun doesn't shine. With a groan, he released me instantly, keeling over as he wheezed. I leaned down so that my lips were right at his ear.

"As long as you still breathe this air, I will never be grateful," I hissed. Strength welled up inside me at the memory of Fang's words.

In an instant, the back of Damien's hand connected with the side of my face. My entire head snapped to the side with the force of the impact. Time seemed to still, the entire atmosphere shriveling up as the sting of my cheek spread and my mind reeled. Blood could be tasted in my mouth, and I reached a trembling hand up to wipe off some that had dribbled onto my lips. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him; I could only stand there and stare at the glimmering droplets of blood smeared on my fingertips.

"Bitch," he spat. Grabbing hold of my jaw, he yanked my head up so that I was forced to meet his glower. "You listen to me and drop that lover boy of yours. Brian has his eye on him."

My heart plummeted past my toes, through the floor, and buried itself in the core of the earth. "You're lying." A whisper was all my voice could manage.

A smirk lilted up his lips. "You wish I was." Releasing his grip on my chin, he landed a quick pat on my butt, winked at me, then turned to walk out of the aisle. Right before he disappeared, he called back: "You're welcome."

In the wake of Damien's sudden appearance, I was left quaking. I tried hard—so hard—to ignore his words, telling myself that he was lying, but I just couldn't get over it. Despite everything Damien was, he had never been a big talker. If he had something to say to you, he meant it; words were some sort of sacred entity to him. So even though my mind pretended to not care, I dropped the loaf of bread I was trying to put in my cart twice because my hands were trembling so badly.

By the time I reached the checkout and still hadn't calmed the erratic pace of my heart, I knew the decision I had to make. Fang had been a blessing for me since the moment he walked up my doorstep, but it was time to stop kidding myself. My life had long ago stopped being a game. Somehow along the way, it had turned into a very real, very lethal war that I had been battling for longer than I realized. For me to bring Fang into the front lines with me would be the most selfish thing I could possibly do. No one deserved to be a part of this sadistic war Brian started.

Slamming the trunk of my car shut on the grocery bags, I left the cart in the barren parking spot next to me, and climbed in the front seat. For the first time in my life, I didn't just drive the car from the house to the store and back; this time, I took a detour and went a couple miles south of town to a common furniture store. I got out of the car with a set purpose being pounded out in each slap of my sneakers against the pavement, and was exiting the store with a small bag clutched tight in my hands within ten minutes.

When I locked myself in the car, sealing out the roar of the wind that had just been ravaging my hair, I had to release a long, heavy sigh that had been weighing me down ever since I left the food mart. My eyes locked in on the bag resting in my lap, and I found that I couldn't look away. Was I really ready to give away the only good thing to ever happen to me?

Time passed by like honey dripping from a teaspoon, as the weather around me gradually worsened. The clouds were colored over with rich charcoal grays, and the wind was beating so hard that I felt the car rocking slightly. Tossing the bag in the back with the rest of the groceries, I turned the key in the ignition and started off back home, hoping to beat the rain. However, as soon as I got back on the main road, rain trickled from the skies, and panged swiftly against the windows with an incessant sort of white noise. As I got further to home, and the rain got heavier, my eyes kept flickering up to the tiniest patch of sunlight burrowed between two plump clouds. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe that was God up there looking down on me, and if this rain was a message to me that he knew my story and was crying for me the tears that I felt welling up inside me, but refused to let go. The thought, as crazy as it was, somehow made me feel less alone.

Ella was awaiting me when I pulled into the garage, coming out from the kitchen door to help take in the groceries. We had a small, unspoken deal between us: I bought, she unpacked. Usually I would at least attempt to help her do the unloading before she slapped me playfully away, but today was the one day that I didn't mind relinquishing the responsibility onto her. I had something important to take care of.

Tramping up to my room, I was somewhat put off to see Fang's curtains wide open. I paused in the middle of my room, frozen by some anonymous hand seizing a growing pit in my stomach, and all I could do was watch him with sad, soft eyes. How peaceful he looked lying on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, as he stared up at the ceiling. I wondered what he was day dreaming about, and was immediately ashamed of myself when the notion of him thinking of me crossed my mind. Not only was that incredulous, but that was the exact opposite of what I needed to happen.

Shaking my head free of those outlandish thoughts, I shook out the contents of the home store bag onto my bed. Out fell a package of plum curtains and a dozen rings to go with them. Before I lost the guts to not continue with my plan, I kneeled down to peek under my bed for the spare curtain rod I had brought with me from the house several moves ago. Usually, I didn't bother with hanging up curtains because they became a hassle to take down, but now was a time of drastic measures.

I took a seat on the floor, dragging my curtains and rings down with me. Undoing the packaging of the curtains, I tugged them out and went to work attaching the rings in the proper slots the curtains offered. It was a bit confusing at first, but I got the hang of it after the first few and really started to get a good rhythm that allowed for me to literally concentrate on nothing else but the task at hand.

Halfway through, however, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket. Sighing inwardly, I let the curtains drop in my lap as I tugged out the cell. One glance at the screen was all it took for me to clench my jaw and place the phone back on the floor. But it didn't stop there. The longer I worked and continued to ignore the message, the more I got, and the tighter my muscles wound. I was so weak, too—I couldn't even resist quick, fleeting glances at the screen to see what he had wrote next. It was almost pathetic, but that was the affect Fang had on me. Somehow in the duration I've known him, he had acquired an unmistakable pull on my undivided attention.

What are you working on so secretly over there?

Oh, come on. I literally just watched you take out your phone and look at my first text.

Okay, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Would you like to hear the ending of that story you fell asleep during?(;

Max?

Did something happen?

It's fine if you don't want to talk, just at least tell me you're okay.

Max, please…

Each text crushed my heart a little more, but I had to bury the feelings down. This was the best thing for him, I knew it was. The further away from me he was, the better.

Feeling like a million pounds were crushing down on my chest, I stood with a blank face and curtain rod in hand. Luckily for me, the previous owners left in the proper hooks above the balcony doors, so all I had to do was set the rod in place. Then, I reached out to grab both curtains tight enough to make my knuckles stand white as I slowly raised my eyes to gaze across me. Fang was out on his balcony, completely ignoring the rain soaking through to his bones, and watching me with one of the most fearful expressions I had ever seen.

That one look was all it took.

Tears raced down either side of my face, as if competing to see which could drip to the ground faster. I knew that if I waited a second longer, I'd scramble for my phone and try to reassure him that I was fine. So with lead filling me up to the crown of my head and tears overflowing from my wilting core, I swung the curtains all the way shut, completely blocking Fang out from my life.

Too shattered to do anything else, I crawled inside my bed and curled in on myself, hating the fact that the soft comforter tugged over my head couldn't provide the same safety that Fang's arms had the past few weeks. Again and again, my phone buzzed with torturous side effects. I tried covering my ears, but even in that silence my mind concocted phantom vibrations that haunted me to no end.

Until, finally, the texts stopped, and I drifted off into a restless, dreamless sleep.

My oh my, Maximum. Your troubles never stop, do they?

Double digits are coming up next chapter, which usually means a big surprise is in store, but I'm not sure if it'll happen next chapter. I guess it depends on my mood.

Follow me on Twitter if you want to know the dates of when chapters are coming out, and any big delays. Link is on my profile.

My new story Hellbound, another Max Ride fic, will be coming out June 15th if any of are interested.

R&R-I love hearing your guys' opinions(:

*Shiver*