Note: I'm back! It's Summer and I have time to write again. And here's my latest work. It's a bunch of songs from musicals, made for Max Ride! They're not going to be real in-James Patterson's-books scenarios or anything, nor will they be in chronological order. If I need to, I might change up the stats of the scene a bit...like here Fang and Max are the only ones kidnapped when Angel goes traitor. Deal with it. Well anyways...this was so fun. I LOVE Wicked- Idina and Kristen rock, even though they don't do Wicked anymore. So yeah. All of these will have spoilers for all four books. Beware. So yeah. My main musicals will be Wicked, Avenue Q, maybe a little Rent, and any other musical I run across. Review and tell me about some. Thanks, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, or Maximum Ride. Unfortunately...

Chapter 1: What Is This Feeling?

Starring Max and Angel

Max POV

As I opened my eyes, the smell of antiseptic hit my nose, and I remembered where we were. Fang and I had been kidnapped and taken back to Itex, and Angel had gone traitor. I was so angry I couldn't see straight.

What had woken me anyways? I turned to see...great. A whitecoat in glasses, holding...a stun gun. Great, I couldn't run. "Come," he said, "Or I'll Taze you." Hm...a whitecoat that knew enough of modern language to know how to conjugate the verb "to Taser". Odd.

I went with him. The whitecoat led me through the plain white halls, to a plain gray door at the end of the corridor. I could hear shrieks from the room beside it. Oh, great. What now?

He shoved me into the room, and I tensed, looking around, scanning for danger. There was nothing in the room except for a conference table and a swivel chair turned in the other direction. A small curly blonde head poked up from behind it. Then the chair swiveled, before I could attack the person in the chair. It was Angel, wearing a sly grin and a cute pink dress. "Good morning, Max," she said. She held a notepad and pencil in her evil little hands. "How are you?"

"Good morning, you devious traitor." I glared at her.

Angel smirked. "Hm...calling mean names...I'll let the big important guys know that." She picked up the pencil and pretended to write. "Dearest darlingest Director and Whitecoats-"

I mocked her, pretending to write. "My dear Ella and Dr. Martinez,"

"There's been some confusion in our life here at the School," we sang together.

"But of course I'll care for "Fangster" I sang/said, rolling my eyes and doing finger-quotation marks. That was another blog reader's nickname. Geez, those blog readers come up with the dumbest nicknames ever. "Fangster" "Fangalator"...et cetera.

"But of course I'll riiiiiiiise above it." Angel sang, extending her snowy white wings and literally rising from the chair.

And we sang in harmony again. "For I know that's how you'd want me to respond- yes!

There's been some confusion for, you see, my room-mate is..."

Angel inhaled and sang in her little-kid voice, "Exceedingly and unusually peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe-" Where did she learn all those words? Geez. Maybe she'd been reading the dictionary or something.

I stepped forwards and say bluntly, "Blonde." Angel is bright blonde, anyways. And also blonde, in the stereotyped sense.

From somewhere off in the distance, there was a bass line .And Angel sang, casting the notepad aside. "What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"

"I felt the moment, I laid eyes on you," I said, remembering the moment I found the flock after trailing the Itex truck through the desert; the moment I saw Angel standing hand in hand with Jeb and Anne Walker, surrounded by Flyboys. I'd been so glad the others had gotten away, and hoped they'd come to get us soon.

"My pulse is rushing,"

"My head is reeling,"

"My face is flushing-"

"What is this feeling? Fervid as a flame, does it have a name?" we sang in harmony. "Yeeeeeesss..." As Angel held that note, I belted up an octave, and it sounded terrific.

"Loathing!" We spat at one another. "Unadulterated loathing!" It was the perfect word.

"For your face," Angel sang, alighting in front of me and pointing.

"Your voice!"

"Your clothing!" Heck, Angel didn't have the right to talk. Just three days ago she'd been wearing the same type of attire, bloody and dirty and shredded as my own.

And we sang together again- "Let's just say...I loathe it all! Every little trait, however small, makes my very flesh begin to crawl- with simple, utter loathing!" We started to circle the coffee table, always keeping our eyes on each other, as if chasing each other around like we used to. "There's a strange exhilaration, in such total detestation- it's so pure and so strong! Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last- and I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life long! We sang the last lines in harmony, a pure beautiful sound to express our sudden hatred. It did come on fast...Angel joined Them, and all of a sudden I couldn't stand her anymore.

Suddenly the door flew open, and ten or fifteen whitecoats streamed into the room. They joined Angel, dancing behind her as we continued to circle the conference table. They sang, "Dearest Angel, you are much too good! How do you stand it, I don't think I could! She's a terror, she's a tartar. We don't mean to show a bias, oh, but Angel, you're a martyr!"

Angel curtsied. "Well...these things are sent to tryyyyyy us!"

The stupid whitecoats continued their praise. "Poor dear Angel, forced to reside with someone so disgusticified." Was that even a real word? "We just want to tell you- we're all on your siiiiiiiiide!"

There was a drumroll, and we reversed directions in our pacing as we began a round. Tired of walking, I snapped my wings open and flew up to the ceiling and continued to sort of pace-fly. Angel flew up and did the same. Below, the whitecoats sang, "We share your loathing! Unadulterated loathing, for her face, her voice, her clothing. Let's just say- we loathe it all! Every little trait, however small, makes our very flesh begin to crawl. Ahhhhh..."

Just as Angel and I sang together in our harmony, "What is this feeling, so sudden and new? I felt the moment I laid eyes on you. My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling...oh, what is this feeling? Does it have a name? Yes...Ahhhhh!" As we sang together, I looked at Angel, then at the whitecoats, then at Angel again. The little blonde girl's eyes were cold, icy blue- this wasn't the sweet little girl I had once known, and I had never hated anyone more. Except maybe Jeb or Ari.

More of the round. Angel and I continued together, "Loathing! There's a strange exhilaration, in such total detestation. It's so pure and so strong!" The whitecoats punctuated occasionally with "Loathing!" as we continued. "Though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last. And I will be loathing! For forever, loathing- simply, deeply loathing you-"

"My whole life long!" we sang, almost shouting with rage. Somehow Angel and I could do that without sounding awful. We landed together with a gentle whoosh of wings.

Then, as we stopped pacing, one of the whitecoats stepped forwards to take me back. As the whitecoat led me past Angel, I made a motion towards her and shouted, "Boo!"

Angel jumped backwards, squeaking, "Aah!"

I smiled inwardly at that as the whitecoat dragged me off.

Another note: MR: TM will be a bunch of oneshots piled together, pretty much. So yeah. Don't forget to review. Hope you liked it!