Here's the new story! I'm very excited about it, and I hope you all like it as much as I do, especially as the story progresses. It's all human, and I guess it's also considered AU.

Thankfully, Feenrai has agreed to beta this story, too, so BIG thank you to her! =D

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters..and to my knowledge, I don't think there's a "Java Good Day" coffee shop or cafe...but if there is, I'm not trying to steal their name, either.

In the silence you stare at the world
Your eyes are screaming to be heard
I want to learn you inside out

(Learn You Inside Out - Lifehouse)

Chapter 1

"Have a good day!" I smiled brightly.

As soon as the customer was gone, my smile faded. I have had to say that line so many times within the past four months that it's become nothing more than a chore. But more than that, it's become an annoying reminder that I, myself, have not had a single good day in years.

Nevertheless, as I approached the next customer to bring them their bill, I plastered that same fake smile on my face.

That's how things were at Java Good Day. Always with the pleasantries, always on your best behavior, and - despite how much of a pain some of the customers could be at times - always polite.

One of its main redeeming qualities was the money I made working there. I needed to work somewhere in order to pay the rent. Thankfully, Aro had pity on me when I applied for this job. He hired me and at the time I had desperately needed it.

At the age of twenty three, I've discovered it's not easy to live on your own in Chicago. Some may say that I chose to move out and live on my own at the age of eighteen, whereas others would say I had no choice. But to me, it truthfully didn't matter whether I had a choice or not, because all I wanted was to leave. And at the time, Chicago seemed like a good idea. It was far away from Jacksonville, Florida, and it was also the farthest I could go with the limited money I had saved up.

I had immediately looked for jobs, and had also gone through quite a few. At my last job, I was told they were over staffed and that, therefore, I was being let go. So I applied everywhere that would accept an application, stating I would be willing to work all hours if necessary.

At this point in time, I was glad that I had agreed to that and was hired here. I met my roommate after a week of working here with her and she offered to let me move in with her and split the rent. Not only did that substantially help me money wise, but it also meant I was able to live somewhere nicer--instead of the tiny, mold-infested apartment I had first found that I could afford on my limited income.

The second reason I was glad to be working here, all hours, was that I usually got stuck with the evening shift. Within my third week of working here, I noticed that every Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday the same man would come in and sit down at a table in my section. He would always have two coffees - one cream, three sugar - before leaving to go about his life.

As much as I tried to deny it, he was very attractive. Tousled bronze hair, full lips, chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. I found him fascinating whenever he came in, which was usually around 11pm. He would come in, always trying to sit at the same table if it was available, and wait to have his order taken. But as he would wait, his lips would be pursed pensively, his eyes troubled and brooding, and his shoulders seeming slouched in what I assumed to be defeat, as his fingers ran aimlessly through his hair, disheveling it even more. When I would place his coffee down in front of him, he would nod his thanks and then continue to stare into the cup, as though it would hold the answers to all of life's mysteries.

And that's why today -- Friday night, around 10pm -- I was shocked, as that very same man walked in the door and again took his usual, vacant table towards the back of the shop.

After taking a minute to assess that I had tended to the few customers who were actually here at this time of night on a Friday, I made my way over to his table.

Upon a quick glance, I could already tell that he seemed more troubled than usual.

"What can I get for you?" I asked, still shocked by his presence. Never before had I seen him come here any day other than those specific three days a week, and always at the same time. Yet, here he was on a Friday night.

He sat in silence for a moment, his right hand sitting on top of the table, his long fingers idly tracing the grain of the wood, while his other hand was propping up his head--his elbow on the table. He sighed, before he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

They were a vividly bright green, but even at a glance, you could see the conflict within them. I almost gasped at the intensity within them, until he spoke words I didn't expect, his eyes still never leaving mine.

"Do you ever wonder how it's possible for one person to have such an impact on others' lives?" His tone was soft, just loud enough to hear over the hum of background noise created by the other customers.

Clearly, this was not a rhetorical question. He was staring up at me intently, his expression forlorn.

"I -- uh -- what?" I spluttered. I could feel my face scrunch up in confusion.

"Do you ever wonder...how one person can affect others' lives so entirely?" he rephrased, his gaze still unwavering as he lifted his head from its perch on his hand, giving me his full attention.

I considered his words. I tried figuring out why he could possibly be asking me this, because it was so random. Especially considering the only words I had ever heard him speak were 'coffee, please -- one cream, three sugar,' so this…this profound question…threw me for a loop.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," I responded quietly, feeling completely foolish and baffled. How could I even answer his question?

He quirked up one side of his mouth into an amusedly mischievous, crooked smile. He tilted his head to the side, as though considering something, before he looked around the cafe, his eyes landing on something across the room.

"See them?" he discreetly pointed. I followed the direction of his gaze, and saw a table of three men, one of which appeared to be animatedly telling a story, while the other two laughed, the conversation easy and light. "Do you think that the other two would still have as good of a time if the third guy wasn't there with them, or do you think the dynamic between them would change?" he questioned.

I considered that for a moment, still staring at the three men. The one telling the story did appear to be the life of the party, so to speak. And the other two seemed content to just simply sit back and listen, letting the other guy take the reigns.

"Is there a right or wrong answer?" I pondered aloud, biting my lip. If there was a right or wrong answer, or at least a specific answer he was looking for, I didn't want to humiliate myself by giving the wrong one.

A low chuckle emanated from his lips, the smirk again returning as he turned his gaze back to me. "No. Not at all. I was just hoping for your opinion, and some insight," he flashed me a sincere smile now.

"I think...it would affect their dynamic. He seems to be the life of the party, while they just sit back and listen, not really contributing..." I almost mumbled, still feeling entirely unsure about this conversation.

"Okay, so you agree that one person can entirely affect other people's lives. But have you ever wondered why or how that is? Why one person can have that much of an affect on others, by just simply...being?" he questioned, and again, the intensity and confusion was swirling within his eyes as he looked at me for an answer.

Now it was my turn to purse my lips as I thought of how to answer. "I would think it would also depend on how close the people are. If they're close, if they care about the person...what that person does would affect them. Sometimes in good ways, sometimes...bad," I whispered the last word, as I let my gaze fall to rest on my shoes. I bit my lip, chewing it anxiously, as too many memories that I didn't wish to focus on came whirling to the forefront of my mind.

I swallowed thickly, before bringing my eyes back up, only to see him, appearing to contemplate my words. But, in the wake of the current memories flooding out of the closet they were securely locked in, within my subconscious, I knew I needed to change the subject -- fast.

"So...what can I get for you?" It was the most effective for redirecting our conversation, and for the first time in a long time, I was glad to have to ask that question.

His eyes snapped up to mine, clearly not expecting the abrupt switch in topics, but quickly recovered, his face now impassive. "Umm...coffee, please -- one cream, three sugar," he requested, which I had already anticipated and written down on my order pad. I was ready to turn and retrieve his order when he added, "And a cranberry muffin."

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes shooting up to his, and my jaw dropping slightly. I realize it was probably an overreaction, but today seemed to be full of surprises concerning this mystery man sitting in front of me. First, he shows up on a day and time that he never has before, and then, instead of ordering...asks me ridiculously profound questions, and now...he doesn't just want coffee, he also wants a muffin.

"You're actually getting food?" I asked, disbelief clearly written on my face. He probably thought I was looking at him as though he had two heads, with the look I imagined I must have been giving off.

Clearly amused, he smirked at me, his eyes lighting up, and clearing of the dark, stormy chaos that usually swirls within them. "Am I not allowed?"

"No! -- I mean, yes!" I took a breath to focus. "Sorry, I meant, yes, you're allowed," I confirmed, feeling my cheeks flush with heat as I clearly made a fool of myself. "You just...never do."

"I've never been hungry while I was here," he shrugged, an impish grin on his face, making him look like a little boy.

I felt a hesitant smile creep up on my face, too. "I'll have that ready for you in a minute."

He gave me a small nod, with his eyes still on me, as I turned and went to the front counter where the to-go orders were dealt with, along with where the inside orders were made.

I grabbed one of the clean plates, and placed his cranberry muffin on it, before making his coffee. As I was stirring it, I glanced up in the mystery man's direction. I was met with the usual sight: his lips pursed, as though he was contemplating something, and his eyes still echoing some kind of unknown pain as his fingers swept through his hair. Except this time...his eyes were focused on me, instead of off into space, or staring at the table, as they usually would be.

Quickly looking back down, I grabbed his order and made my way back to his table.

Again, he surprised me when, as I set it down in front of him, he actually spoke. "Thank you..." he trailed off, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Bella," I told him.

"Bella," he smiled. "I thought it was only right that I know your name, after our conversation earlier. Besides, we see each other often enough," he added with a hint of playfulness.

"We do." I couldn't help but smile. "Enjoy," I added, nodding to his coffee and muffin, before giving him another quick smile, and turning to tend to some new customers who had just walked in.

Time seemed to drag on, and despite my better judgment, I kept stealing glances in the mystery man's direction, whose name, I realized, I still did not know, despite him now knowing mine. But, what I kept seeing when I stole those glances, was that he seemed to be watching me.

It was becoming slightly unnerving, knowing that his eyes were on me. It wasn't that his steady gaze was scaring me. It was just getting a little uncomfortable, and beginning to unnerve me. But, I tried to push that feeling aside, and just focus on serving the rest of the customers in the cafe. Until, of course, I realized that Mr. Mystery seemed to be done and in need of his bill, I assumed, based on the way he was looking at me.

I approached his table again, already starting to write out his bill as I walked towards him. "Is that all for you today?" I questioned, knowing that he usually always had two cups of coffee, but today, only had one.

He nodded, with a faint smile on his lips.

I finished totaling his amount, and placed it down in front of him. He immediately pulled out his wallet, giving me six dollars, which was more than his total.

"The rest is your tip," he explained quietly, his playful demeanor from earlier now pretty much gone.

"Thank you," I told him, keeping my tone polite, and more reserved again.

As he stood up to leave, with a false cheerfulness, and a fake smile, I said, "have a good day!" But as soon as my words met his ears, he immediately turned back around, a slightly hard look in his eyes.

"You know you don't have to say that to me each time, right?" he implored, as his eyes seemed to scan my face, and his eyes became troubled once more.

"I'm supposed to," I explained weakly, since I hated that line, and the fake cheerfulness that had to go along with it -- orders of Aro. If I had my way, I wouldn't have to say it at all.

"Well...I won't tell if you won't. It can be our little secret," he said, with that same previous mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a faint smirk.

I simply nodded, unsure of what to say. Inside, I was happy to not have to say that horrible line anymore. Though, I suppose if I looked on the bright side, it was better than having to say "Java good day!". Regardless, I was happy to not have to say the required departing line whenever Mr. Mystery left the cafe.

He turned back around, taking a few steps in the direction of the door. But before he had gotten too far away, he looked over his shoulder at me, as I stood there, starting to clean up his table.

"And, Bella?" My head snapped back in his direction. "I'm Edward. It was nice to meet you," he gave me a small, but pleasant smile -- enough to show he meant it, I think.

With that, he walked out the door, not even waiting for a response from me.

"Edward," I whispered inaudibly to myself, committing his name to memory.

I now finally had a name to go along with the face.

By 1AM, my shift was over, and I quickly walked down the cold, windy Chicago streets, letting it calm my thoughts. I felt a shudder roll through me--and it wasn't from the cold. My earlier conversation with Edward still brought up some memories I didn't wish to think about ever again.

"Rose?" I called out to my roommate, as I got to the apartment, and let myself in. "You home?"

"Hey Bella!" she called, her voice floating down the hallway from what sounded like her bedroom. A few seconds of silence later, she popped her head out from around her bedroom door. "I'm home, but not for long. I'm getting ready to go out with Emmett."

I had to stifle a laugh, as her long blonde hair was half up in rollers, and half haphazardly falling in her face. She expelled a puff of air from her lips, attempting to blow a wayward strand out of her face.

"Need help?" I questioned, still eyeing her hair, and noticing that she also still wore sweat pants underneath her dress.

"Sure," she shrugged. She turned to go back into her bedroom and left her door open for me to follow.

I didn't mind conversations and situations like this with Rosalie. She was easy to talk to, for the most part; nevertheless, I wouldn't dare tell her about my past. She knew the basics: where I was from, who my parents were, where I grew up. As long as there were no details, I was fine with it. Which is exactly why situations like this with Rosalie didn't bother me in the least, because the conversations were also kept light, and she never pushed me for information.

So I did what I always do to keep her focus off of me: I asked her about her own life--especially her boyfriend, Emmett, whom she has been seeing for a while now, and seems to be crazy about. It was a topic that always got her talking.

"So where are you and Emmett going?" I prodded, as I started to take the remaining rollers out of her hair.

"Not sure. He wouldn't tell me. He just told me to, and I quote, "get dolled up," and that he would pick me up. He's been working like crazy at the garage lately, especially since he's been trying to fix up his jeep. He's been staying there most of the day, so we've barely gotten to see each other this week. That's why he decided that tonight we would see each other, regardless of it being," she paused to check her delicate silver watch, "close to two in the morning." She let out a chuckle.

"That's good. I'm sure you're both dying to see each other," I wanted her to keep talking.

I was, thankfully, almost done with her hair. But unfortunately, my reason for knowing how to do hair, or dealing with rollers was not something I wanted to be thinking about; especially not after my conversation earlier with Edward.

"Hair and makeup, Bella. Now. You're going out in fifteen minutes," he demanded, as he handed me random beauty products -- none of which I usually used.

"I don't usually wear makeup," I replied weakly. He had never done this before, and I didn't understand why it was necessary.

"Well, now you do. You could use some more color. Some more allure. You're too pale. Too plain," he spoke harshly. He pointed his finger in the direction of the stairs, before turning his gaze back to me. "Now go make yourself look good."

I shuddered at the memory.

"I'm done," I said quietly to Rose. She turned her attention to the mirror. Her face lit up in a large smile. She beamed, examining her reflection more closely, and playing with a random curl in her hair.

"Thank you! It looks great."

And it did. She looked gorgeous, like some kind of blonde goddess. She was all long blonde hair, long legs, and extravagant curves. She made the words from the memory all the more obvious. I looked like a plain, pitiful zombie. My skin was ghostly pale, and my eyes were rimmed with darkness that was not produced by makeup. My eyes themselves were dull and lifeless, and my dark hair just hung around my face. I really did lack allure, or any kind of beauty.

With a defeated sigh, I turned and began to leave Rose's room. "I'll let you finish getting ready," I tried to add a smile.

She didn't turn around from the mirror, but hummed in acknowledgement of my words, as she reapplied some lip gloss. I quickly left her room, going into my own and changing into some yoga pants and a tank top, making myself comfortable. After quickly making a sandwich, I went and sat down in front of the TV, hoping to find something -- anything -- to focus on, other than my own thoughts.

I finished my sandwich, and still, I found nothing of interest on TV. I guess that was only to be expected, given the time. Regardless, I continued to surf the channels, looking for anything, until a loud knock on the door resonated through the room.

"Okay, Emmett's here. I'm out of here!" Rose called, as she ran from her bedroom to the door. She paused, taking a breath, and smoothing out her dress, before turning to look at me in my spot on the couch. "Don't wait up," she winked, before opening the door and leaving.

After the soft click of the lock being turned into place, I sat there in the silent and empty room.

Alone for the rest of the night.

That gave me both peace and quiet, and some time to myself...but it also gave me time with nothing but my thoughts and my memories.

Being alone was both a blessing and a curse.

So...there's the first chapter! What did you guys think? Leave a review, and let me know if you're interested in the story! I'm anxious to hear your thoughts =).