Okay, the last chapter was extremely long, and I doubt I'll make another one that long… though I might. It was like 6 pages. I've written longer for the novel I'm writing, so I guess.
Thanks for the comments, I hope this fanfic gets like 50 one day… just putting that out there.
Sorry if it's short also, it's basically just filler.
Nudge P.O.V
Chapter 6: Problem
I'm starting to think there's something going on between Max and Fang. After she sung her song, Samson, the one mom always used to sing, she went over to Fang at that piano bench, and she talks to him in hushed tone. He never looks up at her, he just looks at those keys until he calls me over to play for him.
I thought he was telling her how great her performance was, because she was amazing. I mean seriously, are you freaking kidding, I've never ever even seen someone so talented, not even someone famous. Max was something totally different and it was something to be recognized. Oh great now I'm babbling. Back to the story Nudge! Gah!
Okay, so he calls me over to play the piano for him, after talking with Max, but his voice is harsh and mean, so I think he is angry. I know he is angry.
For some reason the keys were wet.
After we leave the theater, Don says he wants us to teach his kids how to perform like that. Full of raw emotion and feeling, letting everything come out and leaving it on the stage. Fang says no problem and Max doesn't say anything, but we leave.
There's a problem that needs fixing.
Fang P.O.V
I don't know what the hell happened to me. One second I was a sobbing freaking mess in public because Max likes the song Samson, which isn't that hard to believe if she likes Fiona Apple. And it's freaking me out that I'm crying, let alone in public, so next I'm angry. How dare she just waltz on in here and take pity on me, like she knows me.
Then I'm on stage practically proclaiming an undying love for her that I didn't know existed…
The car ride home is awkward. Nudge doesn't even speak; she just tells me she wants me to drop her off in the town square.
When we pull up in front of Max's Aunt and Uncle's house, she smiles, a small, sad smile, and looks up at me.
"You wanna come in?" if Iggy were here he'd say: "Come in what?" and he'd think it was funny.
"Sure." I say, because I'm not Iggy and I want to know Max. I want to know why she's so quiet, but so strong. I want to know why in the world she already cares about me and we just met. I want to know where she learned to sing like she can because she freaking blew me out of the water. If that was her dabbling, I'd hate to see her really try. It'd be scary.
She's staying in a guest room, it is ocean themed, and her blonde streaked hair looks so amazing with the room color. She could be a model. She looks so perfect right here, in this room. She must be comfortable here because there are already pictures hanging on the wall. There are clip outs of New York City, and L.A, and even Chicago, and they all look totally different, it's kind of insane. She has a picture of herself all the way out in freaking Florence, Italy with a woman, who's about the same height as her, thin and toned, like her, with the same streaked hair, and nose, and cheeks bones. Her eyes are blue instead though, and there's a man in the picture with her mouth and tan skin, and chocolate eyes, next there is a little boy. He's about 8 or 9 and he looks so much like Max it's crazy. Same facial shape, same nose, smile, eyes, and head tilt as the laugh. She's holding him. They're all smiling, laughing. I wish I could experience that. The more I look at it, the more I can tell she was only about 14 or 15, and she was about 4 inches shortest than she is now.
"Your family looks so happy." I say. She whirls around, looks at me. She had been fiddling with her computer, putting on a Lykke Li playlist, starting with the song Tonight.
"Oh, yeah. Best freaking family trip… ever! My little brother Ari took about 200 pictures while were there, and I put them all on Facebook." She laughs.
"Nice. How old is Ari?"
"Well we're 3 ½ years apart, so he's about to turn 15."
"Ah. I remember the days. Second year of high school." I sigh. She giggles and sits down her bed, looking up at me, still standing, staring at the pictures of her smiling family in front of the "Ride of Your Life Family Diner and Skating Rink"
"Oh I bet you were an awkward ass kid, huh?" she laughs, "Pepperoni pizza faced, wanna be skate border, secret Star Wars loving geek."
"Ha ha… funny. I was actually very clear skinned sophomore year. Freshman year, ok… pepperoni faced, but we moved that year, so no one knew that at my new school." She raises an eyebrow.
"So you were a ladies' man?"
"No, not really. I was pretty good at the whole "Don't fuck with me, I'm emo" look so I basically hung out with Iggy the whole year, and year after that, and year after that."
"Are you a virgin?" she asks suddenly. I feel my eyes widen but I regain my control and place a smirk on my face.
"Why so curios babe?" I quip, "Is there something you wanna tell the old Fangster?" she rolls her eyes in exasperation.
"You're so pretentious."
"Are you calling me a douchebag? Cause if you really want me, just say it. No hard to get needed."
"No, I'm calling you a prick, there's a difference." She giggles, and falls back on the bedspread. She really looks like an angel like that.
"Why did you come here? You're from New Orleans, right?" I say.
"Oh… um, I had some trouble back home." She says, and by the way her voice cracks I can see this subject is a problem and I need to drop it. But I want to know, I have to know. I will know, trust me.
Max P.O.V
He's got this whole douchebag bad boy thing going on that probably made all the girls fall back in high school. Better yet, just made their panties fall.
He's flirting, running his hands through his hair. Not like a girl, more like his friend Iggy, making stupid sex references that make you want to punch him but then again you don't want to punch him because he's so damn cute. He's cool though. Funny. Sorta.
Yeah. That's what he's got me doing now. And it's a problem.
I think I like him.
I mean, not like boyfriend type of like, but I like him enough to want to be friends with him. Because they way those dark eyes train on me when I speak, make me feel like he's listening. The way her quirks his eyebrows when he's confused make me feel like he cares. The way his lips twitch in a little smirk make me feel like… that little smirk makes me want to talk more. It makes me want to make him smile. Like, a full on grin. Get away from this façade that he's putting up and show me the real Nickolas.
Yeah, it's like that now.
