Authors Note: Neither one of us owns Winx Club or The Lunar Chronicles, they belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1

Once in a while, I wished for a different life. One where I had everything. One where I was normal. One where I was one of them, not one of me. One where I wasn't getting looks of pity mixed with hatred because of who I am.

And if you're as abnormal as me, you are accustomed to the harsh looks. Just like I am.

As I walked down Main Street in Magix that day, I tried to ignore the looks the normal people were giving me. I had forgotten my gloves in my hover – the ones that conceal the metal hand. My metal hand. Without my big, bulky gloves, people considered me to be just another senseless, incompetent nobody. I just shrugged them off. I was used to it; for me, this was normal.

I don't remember exactly how I became what I am, but my stepfather told me that I was in a horrible hover crash where both of my parents died. I was only eight at the time. Because of this, I was slowly dying so the doctors had to find a way to save my life. They gave me a prosthetic right hand and left foot, both made of metal, and replaced parts of my brain. It was then that I became one of them. I became a cyborg.

I have no memories of my life before I came to live with my stepparents – no recollection of my past as it was. To add to such misfortune, my stepmother thinks of me as a curse because as soon as she took me into her home, my stepfather died from a sudden heart attack. She loathes the thought of having me, "a wretched cyborg," in her home. This is why she cried at my stepfather's funeral. Not because of her husband's death, no – she is so self-centered that she cried about having to take care of me...a cyborg.

And I, too, hate her with the same bitter animosity - I curse the day she was born.

Yes, I know that hate is such a strong word, but in this context, it is one of the only words that applies, especially because she treats me like I am nothing. Like I was just another one of those robots littering the streets of Magix. Like I wasn'ther stepdaughter. Even so, without me, Anna would have nothing. Without me, she wouldn't have a home and she and her daughters would be living in the gutter. The only reason they can live as they do is because she recognized my ability with technology, "my gift to help her family survive," as she says so. She used this to her advantage, of course – I now work for her profit at a small repair shop. Lucky me.

When I was passing a small, quaint café a block from where the shop was, my eyes fell upon a small television, on which was the Channel 4 news. The reporter was inaudible, but I slowly read what he was saying in the captioned words scrolling under him.

"…and in other news, Queen Electra of Zenith has just announced she, too, will come to Magix for the 80th annual Gala, of which all nobles from the realms will now officially be attending."

I reread those words dozens of times. Queen Electra – in Magix. All the rumors that I've heard about her quickly rushed back into my head. She killed her entire family to obtain the throne of Zenith, and kidnapped and imprisoned anyone that would try to interfere with her ruling of the kingdom. She found a baby of both Solarian and Magix blood who had the most beautiful golden hair, and that she cut it off the child for her own use and sent the baby far away from Zenith and the magical dimension. She had a stepdaughter who had the most beautiful of voices and, out of jealousy, took her voice and sent the girl to live in the poorest parts of the kingdom. But these are only rumors. I'll bet all of this was just a made up story to frighten children.

Just then, I heard a crash, which broke my concentration on the television screen. I turned towards where the sound of the impact came to see the scattering of some parts of a hover, while the rest of it was still intact. The only problem was that the hover stood suspended in the air, unable to move. The driver crawled out and examined the damage.

I ran over to the man to see if I could offer my expertise to fix his now-immobile hover.

"Ugh, I can't believe this old thing finally stopped." He mumbled under his breath, among other things of which I could not hear, nor understand.

"Um, hello…sir?" The man turned to me, an expression of annoyance on his face.

"Yes?" His tone was gruff, somewhat unbelieving that someone was around to see his misfortune take place.

"I was, um, wondering if you needed any help. Um...do you have gloves that I can borrow?" I said to him, hiding my metal hand behind my back.

"Sure…" he rustled around in his vehicle, pulling out a pair of purple gloves that came just to the wrist, with a small, green line found where the glove attached to the material that went just a few inches up the arm.

"Here, take these. They were my daughter's; she used to wear them, but she's got no use for them now that she's gotten older." He handed me the gloves and I slipped them on behind my back. They fit perfectly. Even better than the gloves I left in my hover. "And I don't mean to be rude but...um…you're a girl. What can you do to help me with my broken hover?"

"I'm not just a girl. I'm also a mechanic." I corrected him. "If you'd help me push the hover, we could get it to the shop I work at, which is just a block away. He nodded. As the man and I started to push it towards the shop, I muttered under my breath just low enough so only I could hear, "I'm also a pathetic cyborg, but that doesn't matter."

When we got to the shop, I lifted the top up and peeked inside the hover. Oil leaked everywhere, and the magbelt was frayed. Compared to some of the other things I had to fix, this was nothing.

Yanking the magbelt out, the man looked at me with an eyebrow raised. Yep, I told you so – I know what I'm doing.

"Where is the spare magbelt for the hover?"

He got up, explaining, "I'll get it. It's in the back of my trunk under a lot of junk."

"Could you also grab a towel so I can sop up all the oil?"

"Sure. One second."

While he was getting this, I pulled my short, magenta hair into a ponytail. He then emerged from the car's trunk, magbelt in hand, and handed me the piece I had asked for. I put it in the original one's position and reached for the towel he was also holding. Then, I wiped all the oil off and plugged the hole that the oil leaked out of. That is when I noticed a small crowd had gathered around the shop. They were watching with amazement as I continued to repair the damaged hover. I closed the top and opened the door; sitting in the front seat, I started the ignition. It worked like a charm.

"Here you go!" I said tossing the man the keys and I walked away wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"Um, oh, um…" the man babbled on, not knowing what to say about a "girl" being able to fix his hover. "Um, how much do I, um, owe you?"

"It's fine. It was just a simple fix, and there was no parts cost. Also, here are your gloves back."

"Keep them. Consider them payment." I thanked the man, and he got into his newly fixed vehicle and drove off. The crowd by this time had all left, as they had apparently found something more interesting to look at (and in the magic capitol of the dimension, trust me, that's not too hard to do) – or so I thought. I had just settled down in my comfortable chair in which I worked on all my smaller, handheld projects when a voice came from behind me.

"How did you learn to do that?" I quickly turned around to be face to face with a boy, maybe a year or so older than me, with light-orange hair that was short in the back, with long bangs in the front. He looked like a normal resident of Magix, wearing a black-and-orange hoodie and a pair of jeans with a pair of seemingly well-worn sneakers. The hood on his jacket was up, covering half of his face. I wondered why he wore it like that – such an odd thing to do, especially indoors. But, despite his normal exterior, something about him seemed familiar; I could not, however, for the life of me figure out who it was.

"Um, what do you mean?" I didn't exactly know what this boy wanted, nor whether or not I should actually be talking to this stranger. Something about him, though, made me want to know who exactly this guy was.

"I mean, how did you learn to fix a hover so fast? I've never seen anyone in Magix be able to fix one that quickly, let alone a girl, no offense."

"No offense taken – I know most people are shocked to see a girl doing this sort of thing." I chuckled a little at the thought of my mom changing the magbelt on a hover. The closest she's ever gotten to that is pushing me into my stepsister's car because I didn't do all my chores before they returned home that evening. "I guess it is just a natural skill of mine – I've always been able to do that sort of thing pretty quickly. Plus, it was just a blown magbelt and a failure in the oil pump – nothing too complicated or anything."

"So, um, you're a mechanic?" He had some confidence in his voice, but I could tell that this was an unnatural situation for him, as he asked his question in such an illogical manner. Ugh, why do I say such things – oh, right, the cyborg brain. Of course.

"Yeah. Always have been, probably will always be forced to be." I let a little anger out with the last part of that sentence. For some reason, though I was technically a cyborg and thus could not technically have feelings, I could still express some strong emotions such as anger and happiness (though with my life, the latter rarely ever surfaced) – great, just another reason that I'm different.

"What do you me-" he was cut off by the screams of a girl outside of the shop. When I turned my head, however, I realized she was looking at the man I was speaking to.

He uttered, "Uh, oh," to which I looked at him in curiosity – what exactly did he mean, "uh oh?" I was about to ask him what he meant by this illogical response when the girl answered both that question and the one as to why this person looked so familiar to me when I had met him.

"I-I-It's P-P-P-Prince T-Timmy!" She shouted so loud, it nearly broke my eardrums. I gasped at the realization that this was him, and that I was so clueless as to not even realize the Prince of the city in which I had grown up in for most of my life.

"Just great, now my cover is blown," he muttered under his breath, just so loud as to let me hear it. So this was Prince Timmy, heir to the throne of Magix and every girl's dream guy. And I was stuck in the middle, just trying to explain how a girl can be a mechanic. Why did everything weird always happen to me?

My thoughts were broken as the girl who had screamed and about two dozen or so other girls who had heard her cries of joy made their way towards the unmasked heir.

"Are there any ways to get out of here and avoid…them?" He said these words in such a terrified tone that I knew that if I did not help him, those girls and more would be all over him (and by the loudness of the scream in a previously quiet, undisturbed street, I could tell many, many more were coming – 368 people from the surrounding 2.97 blocks in 65.3 seconds, to be exact).

"Follow me." I grabbed his arm and made a dash for the back door that led into an old, forgotten alley to the Magix City outskirts. We ducked behind some rather large pieces of equipment used to raise the hovers into the air and test their flying capabilities and exited out the back entrance, running to the end of the alley and turning the corner. The girls came out, screaming his name so loud I'm sure the whole town could hear it. When they saw, however, the lack of people, let alone princes, in the alleyway, they stopped confused in a mob-like formation.

One asked, "where did he go?"

"I don't know, but this alley is nowhere a prince would hide," she turned towards the end of the alley that let out into Main Street Magix. "I bet he went that way!" The other girls subsequently agreed with her, and turning around, ran towards where the alley met with Main Street, opposite the side we were hiding out on. After they'd all run off and we were sure the coast was clear, we both snuck back into the shop that we had evacuated just minutes ago.

Immediately after getting into the shop, I bowed to the Prince. "Your Highness," I uttered towards the figure, looking down at the ground.

He blushed slightly. "Um, please don't call me your Highness. I always hated that title – it's so formal and proper. Just call me Timmy."

I stood there, gaping at the boy in front of me – Prin-, excuse me, Timmy, crown prince of Magix, next in line for the throne of one of the most powerful empires in the magical dimension. And here I was talking to him – me, a lowly, insignificant cyborg. Thank goodness I could not blush, because if I could, I am sure that such an action would be inevitable at this point in time, however illogical an action it may be.

I had almost forgotten that Timmy himself was standing right in front of me, for I barely caught his next statement.

"Thank you for, um, saving me back there." He seemed to lack poise, something I did not see coming from a person grown up to be royalty his entire life.

"Oh, um, you're welcome…I guess it can be really rough having tens of thousands of people to look after, each of them wanting something from you." I could relate, I thought to myself. All my stepfamily, minus my stepfather, ever wanted from me was the money I brought in. I was their scapegoat to working, and that was what kept me around. I guess I should not try to assume myself to some level competent with that of the Prince of Magix, but I won't deny that I can somewhat relate to his situation.

He chuckled approvingly. "Yeah, especially when I'm just trying to be a normal kid and their going around town, chasing after me, calling my name." I chuckled at such a thought as well. It never occurred to me exactly how annoying this could get for a person; then again, I wondered which would be worse – everyone wanting to be your friend, or no one wanting anything to do with you, both because of who you are. "Um, I never did, um, actually get your name."

"Oh, sorry. My name's Tech."

"That's…a, um, cool name."

"Thanks." I stared downward in order to not look at Timmy's face. It seemed as if I looked at him, I'd start to blush in the same way he'd started to. A long silence endured after I said this, but shortly thereafter broke as soon as it started.

"So…how did you become a mechanic?"

"Well, I'm pretty good with technology and machines, so, um, I got a job here; well, actually, I was more so forced into working here by my stepmother, but it's fun, I guess, working with technology all day." I gave him a fake smile; it, though, at the end, turned into what would be considered a slightly genuine one. I couldn't believe I was telling this stranger all of the things that I did not have the nerve to tell anyone else, but for some reason, I felt as if I could trust him.

"That's great! You see, I…I, um…I need someone to fix-I mean, find out what is wrong with-my android. Something's not right with her."

I didn't know what to say – first, I learn he's a prince, then we dodge a bunch of screaming girls out to get him for themselves, and now he wants me to help fix his android. This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger. "Um, sure! Do you have it with you?" Suddenly, as if on cue, he stuck his hand into the main pocket on his hoodie, pulling out a small mechanical figure. It looked quite similar to other Zenithian-made androids I had worked on in the past, only this one had much higher-quality metal than the others (which didn't surprise me much, as she was a prince's android).

"Yep. This is Laui. She's been malfunctioning every time I try to turn her on – she'd get powered up, malfunction, and then reboot and malfunction again. I've tried fixing her myself, but I couldn't. So, when I saw you fixing that man's car, I thought you might be able to help."

I took the small android from his hand – it felt warm…and a small shock came up my spine, just large enough for me to feel…wait, what? Oh, right, the android; it looked quite similar to other Zenithian-made androids I had worked on in the past, only this one had much higher-quality metal than the others (which didn't surprise me much, as she was a prince's android). Actually, the small, robotic body looked remarkably similar to Digit, my very own android. Suddenly, the robot's metal eyelids flipped open. A small, electronic voice softly, yet sharply replied, "Rebooting in 5...4...3...2...1..." Suddenly, she flew up in the air and then shut down, crashing to the sidewalk below.

"I can fix her," I responded after a few seconds, giving a small smile to the android's attempt at supporting itself in such a state of disrepair.

"That's great! Can you possibly fix her by next week?" He said with hope in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'll try. Thank you, your high-, I mean, Timmy." I said bowing to Timmy.

He chuckled a little at this. "No. Thank you." With that he turned around and walked out of the garage door, still open (I presume that I had forgotten to close it after pushing the hover into the shop, and that that is how all the prior events came to occur), and started walking in the direction of the palace. I gently fingered the small android still in my hand, and started to pick up a few choice tools that may be necessary in the repair.

"I'll bet Digit will love the story of how I met the Prince. I can't wait to tell her," I whispered this to myself, and started to walk to my hover with the Prince's android in hand, thinking about the person who'd I had just met. If that girl hadn't come, then I'd never have guessed he was the prince, I thought to myself, knowing such thoughts were very illogical. Hedefinitely doesn't act like one, let alone anyone I've ever met. I smiled as I thought about him, but quickly got my mind together. I mean, I couldn't talk about the prince as if…as if he was a friend or something, or like I sort of knew him. Again, he is a prince, and I'm a lowly cyborg – I might as well push the thought of us being friends out of my mind forever. During this time, however, I only thought about my encounter with the Prince…and that spark I felt…no, it was nothing.

I saw my car about one hundred feet away from me and grimaced at the thought of going home to my stepmother; however, I kept my thoughts on Digit to keep my mood slightly as positive as it was moments ago. He, however, came back into my mind, and his memory ended up clouding it for exactly 93 of the 100 steps I took to get to the hover (I counted).

I'd like to than renwotac1 for help in revision. (Renwotac1 did the majority of the work while I just pointed out little details, I'll admit it :-) ) if you enjoyed this new revision, please review!