FICsongFAN, a twilight fanfic

Now, I don't ACTUALLY know what a songfic IS, exactly, but reading between the lines, I'd say it was a fanfic and a song mixed

Before you ask, YES this story belonged to a (beautiful, gorgeous, intelligent) author by the name of "Prima-02-Donna".

Me.

. . . Hence the beautiful gorgeous part. Lol.

I wrote this story AGES ago, after Twilight first came out, and originally this story was a SECRET, but it's not any more. Lol.

Also, before you read it, keep in mind that I don't actuallt know what a songfic IS, but reading between the lines, I just assumed it was a fanfic and a song mixed up!!

I called it . . . FICsongFAN. Lol.

Enjoy.

FICsongFAN

Of course, I understood the theory.

Panic! At the disco

Give a band a really weird name, and the mournful Emo's will be all over it, like pre-teens at an NSync concert.

It gets ugly.

But everything from the title onwards, I was flummoxed.

There's a reason these tables are numbered, honey, you just haven't thought of it yet.

I flicked "Repeat" on my stereo and lay back to listen.

Funnily enough, it was Phil, AGAIN, who'd given me this CD. I was dubious at first, but after remembering my relative success with the last band of his, I decided to give it a try.

. . . And I'd seen it in Edward's collection. If he listened to it . . . how bad could it be??

Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats with the doorman
And from that moment, you'll be out of place and underdressed
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and

When you're in black slacks with accentuating off-white pinstripes, whoa-oh
Everything goes according to plan

Ok. Clothes off, I get that part. Out of place and underdressed, get that too. Clever. A little angst teen, but who am I to judge. I'm the epitome of an angst teen . . .

Just with a vampire boyfriend.

And his family.

And—you get the idea.

I'm the new cancer, never looked better
And you can't stand it
I know because you say so under your breath
You're reading lips, "When did he get at all confident?"
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
Never looked better
And you can't stand it

Next is a trip to the ladies room in vain
I bet you just can't keep up with these fashionistas
Tonight, tonight, you are, you are the whispering campaign
To them, your name is "Cheap", and you look like sh—
Talk to the mirror, choke back tears
And keep telling yourself that, "I'm a diva."

Oh, and the smokes in that cigarette box at your table
They just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerin

OK. Cancer? Who's talking about cancer? Who's got Cancer?? The girl appears to be one of those vapid-and-bitchy-but-secretly-insecure Barbie dolls, a DIVA, he called her.

Edward could probably explain it. Edward knows all.

Edward . . . all I think about now. All I, well, all I live for, although I'd begged him to change this.

He was still resisting, saying he wouldn't be responsible for ending his life. My cries that HE was my life fell on deaf ears. Or rather, the ears of a vampire with selective hearing.

Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
I've never looked better and you can't stand it
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
I've never looked better and you can't stand it

And I know, and I know
It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up
I've never been so surreptitious
So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch
And I know, and I know
It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up
I've never been so surreptitious
So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch
And I know, and I know
It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up
I've never been so surreptitious
So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch

He's planning on spiking the punch . . . nice touch. Reminds me kind of my prom.

Spiked punch . . . water balloons and a whole lot of silly string . . . yes, I was probably there.

I tucked my legs up under me and listened to the CD wind through the rest of the songs. Again and again.

And that was how Edward found me, hours later.

I knew the words by now, and the tunes, and I was humming along to one of the jazzier beats when Edward gave me the fright of my life.

You'd think I would have had a handle on the "Superspeed&stealthsupershock" thing, but apparently that was still to come.

"Panic! at the Disco?" He asked with one of his frowns. "Since when have you been a fan of theirs?"

The truthful answer was 'since I had an in depth look at your CD collection' but I decide this was as good a time as any to cash in on the fact that he couldn't read my mind.

And this wouldn't be the first time I've thanked whoever's in charge of this giant charade for this.

"Phil." I answered, going for the half-truth.

"And what do you think?" he asked, settling on the bed beside me. He moved with such fluidity and grace . . . I was awed, as usual.

"Hmm?" he probed amusedly, no doubt enjoying the goldfish look (Complete with flaming cheeks) I get sometimes when I look at him.

"Uhh . . . what?" I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"Do you like the band?" he asked, with a bold grin.

For someone who can't read my mind, he has the most alarming grasp on my thought process.

"One song's getting to me." I answered, determined to carry on like I wasn't just oogling the godlike creature on the end of my bed.

MY BED.

. . . Yay.

"Which one? And move over," he added, settling my a bit to the right so he could have some pillow too, and laying down beside me.

And he KNOWS, he KNOWS when he moves that slowly it just enhances his physique.

All I will say is . . . Holy crap. I love my life.

(A/N: A little OOC, I know, but I couldn't resist.)

"Number Eight." I said firmly. "The one about the tables, and the numbers. And not knowing the logic behind the numbering."

"Spoken like a true fan." He commented.

"Listen," I said, leaning over to switch the tracks on the stereo. The movement made my T-shirt ride up a little bit, but I didn't think anything of it until I felt Edward stiffen beside me.

I froze as a result, but after a few seconds of which my heart was in my throat, he laughed. "It's fine, Carry on."

"This one." I pressed the button and s-l-o-w-l-y leant back by Edward, who laughed at me again.

"Ahh." He said, after a few moments. "I see."

I rolled my eyes. Cryptic as ever, this one.

"Yes." He rolled onto his side, so as to watch my face while he told his story. "The Cancer reference is brilliant, if a little misleading. You recognised, I assume, the male and female case's and the demise of their relationship?"

"Essentially," I acquiesced, "yes."

"A case of sour grapes." Edward explained. "Of being jilted then seeking revenge. See, she was the confident one or at least," he amended, "She pretended to be."

I wondered wether this was the time to start expelling my vapid-and-bitchy-but-secretly-insecure Barbie doll theory??

I decided to save it.

"Finally he saw beneath that, to the insecurity beneath, and he retaliated. He was sick of being pushed under all the time; He's saying he sees beneath her, and that her game is up as far as he's concerned. She's surprised, and noticeably affected, and it has a deadly toxic affect, like Cancer, only in a different form. Then he's saying he wont forget, or be fooled anymore, and the piece with the punch is leaving her to her own demises, Letting her see for herself the truth to her environment. Leaving her to get burnt by the fire she plays with. Because" He smiled suddenly, "We all know that the Punch always gets spiked."

"Hmm." I said. "Well, I'll admit that your theory is a whole lot better than mine."

Edward grinned at me, 'Well what's your theory then?"

"Oh, you know." I shrugged. "The usual. Bitten by—"

"A Radio-active spider." Edward finished. "You're not very original, Miss Swan. Still stealing from Comic books, I see."

I made a big show of pouting. "Well someone has to be the unoriginal one. You get to be the brains, the beauty AND the brawn."

"I wouldn't call that unoriginal," Edward said slowly, his smile leaving his beautiful face.

"No?" I jabbed him with the CD case, trying to bring back his humour, "what would you call it? Do you have another brilliant theory for me?"

"I'd call it normal," he said sadly.

I stopped smiling too.

"Edward," I pleaded, "Please. It doesn't have to be an impasse. It's my choice, I want to be like you, I want to be with you."

"And I've told YOU before Bella," He said angrily, getting off the bed and moving to my window at an inhuman speed, "I wont end your life, I won't kill you."

"It wouldn't be killing me!" I argued, "You ARE my life!!"

"No." he said, not looking at me. "Charlie, Renee, they are human, they can give you everything, and THEY are your life."

"But—"

"NO, BELLA!!" He yelled, turning to face me at last.

I purposely set my jaw, and glared, showing him I wasn't frightened of him. "I could still see them, they'd want—"

"They'd WANT you to die?? I don't believe that, Bella, and you don't either. I'm meant to be dead. You're not. This is the way it is Bella. I'm the cancer and I won't kill you."

"But I love you. And he wanted to hurt her; you don't want to hurt me. That's all your trying to protect me from, but I'm standing here, telling you you're wrong. You're not meant to protect me, you're meant to love me, and let me make my choices. This is my choice. I'm meant to be with you, and you're meant to be with me . . . as equals."

He was quiet.

I walked over to him and grabbed his ice-cold hands. "Edward . . . Please . . . "

He looked at me for a long moment the lowered his lips to my neck.

And Edward was wrong. It wasn't the end of my life . . . It was the beginning.

Well??

What does everyone think??

Love and Kisses,

Mariah