A/N: For me, this story started as something my mind created when I was stuck at work at 2 o clock in the morning. I originally had intended it to be rather short and to the point, but as it ruminated in my mind it evolved into so much more than I was expecting, with three distinct parts, and approximately thirty three chapters. I hope you enjoy the adventures of many of your favorite Twilight characters here in the Alternate universe of Lakefront University. It has been one of the best experiences of my life writing this story, and I do hope that you enjoy reading! All characters in this story are human. There are also quite a few hidden references to both Twilight, and also Taylor swift lyrics hidden throughout the text. If you find any, kudos!
Part One
...You Can Hear It In The Silence
Why had I come to this place? It seemed the last place in the world a girl like me should be. The very nature of it seemed to not only repel me, but to be repelled by me as well. The wind licked against my face, cold and biting, numbing me to the dull, uninviting world around me.
What I wouldn't give for the warmth of my childhood home again, not only in temperature, but in color. Phoenix had been just that for me; warm in every sense of the word. The way the rocky crags rose forth from the landscape, the way the air swirled up over the roadways surrounded by sparse gravelly landscaping, with towering cacti overshadowing the shrub like plants that in such a world passed as greenery. More still than the omnipresent heat, I missed the warmth of my mother's loving smile, missed how it filled my heart when Renee found moments of true inspiration in the world around her, regardless of how irrational or irresponsible acting on that inspiration may have been.
There was no warmth here, although I was no stranger to the cold either. I had moved to Forks, Washington in the middle of my junior year of high school and though I had never gotten as used to the chill, I had found that despite my initial dislike of the cool color palette of mossy rain forests and damp cold grey skies, I had eventually taken a liking to the place. Perhaps it was because of my father Charlie. He was a lot like me. He was quiet, shy, and typically kept to himself. Living with Charlie for the past year and a half had actually been much more pleasant, if not more eventful, than I had originally anticipated.
Therein lied my logic in relocating here for college. I had actually become accustomed to the dreary, damp cold, something that in theory would be similar, and therefore familiar, in the windy city.
I pulled my head out from between my knees momentarily from where I sat perched on the grass to stare out across the endless expanse of the lake. The dark water met almost seamlessly with the grey overcast sky. This world was almost seemingly devoid of color, except for the greenery of the grass and scattered trees about the lawn of sorts in which I sat. Even then, the colors were desaturated by the oppressive cloud cover, giving everything a cool grey overtone. The icy wind ran its playful fingers through my dark hair, tossing it about carelessly. Yes, this did feel a lot like Forks, I decided. It was the first observation I had taken comfort in since arriving here.
The other theory upon which my relocation was based was actually my missing living in a city, and the feeling of institution it instilled. No matter how long I lived with Charlie, I had always missed the eventfulness of Phoenix. About this theory I had found myself entirely mistaken.
In Phoenix, life could feel busy, but there was always pause to be found in the desert, pockets of quiet calm and relaxation hidden amongst the hustle and bustle. There were places I could find reflection. There was none of that to be found here. Nothing ever stopped here it seemed, at any hour of the day or night. This became apparent to me the moment I had stepped off the plane. The people moving through the airport had such drive and determination in their steps as to almost topple me about as I searched in confusion for the trains that would deliver me to what I now realized I was going to quietly suffer through for the next four years: College.
The train smelled badly of urine and dirt as it weaved its way through neighborhood after neighborhood, through the towering skyline of the loop until, several rough transfers later, I arrived at my new home: Lakefront University.
After struggling to haul all of my bags across the lawns of the campus and up the flight of stairs to my dormitory, I had met my roommate Jessica, a shorter girl with beautifully wavy, sandy brown hair. I had learned one thing about Jessica quickly: she was easily excitable. She had bombarded me with questions from the moment I entered the room. I tried to answer as many of them as I could with the minimum amount of information required to not seem impolite. She didn't seem to notice my lack of participation as she prattled on with more questions and information about herself. Most of it I ignored, but I did gain a few pieces of insight. First, she was a sophomore, which led to my deciding that I should fake as much enthusiasm as possible so that she would be willing to show me around. Secondly, she desperately wished to be a part of some sorority on campus, the name of which I forgot the very instant she had spoken it, and thirdly, she seemed to know every piece of gossip about every person on campus. I decided it would be best to stay in her good graces. The one thing she lacked, it seemed, was an appreciation for peace and quiet. She left me feeling uneasy about her, like a pawn on her chessboard. I allowed her to show me my first class and then made haste to escape her.
Everywhere I went it seemed there were prying eyes following me. Whether they were real or simply a figment of my own imagination I never knew. It seemed people were either in such a hurry that they bordered on blatant rudeness, or they were so overtly friendly that it was bothersomely annoying.
One boy in particular in my macroeconomics class seemed particularly difficult to dissuade in his over the top friendliness. The boy, whose name was Mike, had practically walked me on a leash towards one of the dining halls, though the route was well marked with signage. I accepted the gesture as it felt unwise to dispel any potential friendships so early, as they would likely be crucial to my survival for the next few years of my life.
By mid-afternoon the constant rush and flow of endless people and conversation had finally become too much. I felt tense and uneasy, missing the peaceful forest which I had left behind, something I had not anticipated missing in the slightest. Spying a patch of untamed trees at the edge of one of the campuses many lawns, I turned thoughtlessly into them and made my way down a nearly indiscernible path through the forest, bringing me to where I currently sat on the edge of the lake.
It was clear to me in that moment that I had made a mistake in coming here, but I couldn't dwell on that in the moment. Who knew how long it would be until I could again be alone. I stared out across the glassy water and let the wind whip over me. I listened to the sound of it as it flowed past my ears, saw the beauty of the rounded stones lining the shoreline, and for a brief moment allowed myself to feel relaxed. I realized what it was that this city lacked, the thing that I would miss the most from Forks: silence. I closed my eyes.
My moment of serenity wasn't a long one though. I could hear footsteps through the grass behind me on my right side. I ignored them. It seemed even traveling through the woods on an almost hidden trail couldn't warrant me any time to reflect in this hectic place.
The footsteps stopped, and I could almost pretend that I was alone again. Almost. After immeasurable minutes of hearing no more footsteps, I almost felt inclined to reopen my eyes. After all it was possible that perhaps I hadn't heard whomever it was make their exit. I decided to open my eyes and look.
I meant only to glance quickly, but that notion was abandoned the moment I opened my eyes, for before me, crouched no more than twenty feet to my right, lay the single most beautiful man I had laid eyes on in my entire life. He was staring noiselessly out across the vast expanse of water. There was no detail of him I didn't want to absorb: the paleness of his skin, the most flawless skin I had ever seen, the way his chiseled jawline looked as though it had been carved in marble by one of the great roman sculptors, the way that his beautiful tousled bronze hair seem to flutter fluidly in the wind, the perfect line of his nose and the slight pucker of his lips, the pattern of the button up shirt beneath his navy sweater, which clung to his clearly athletic arms and back. Even the way his jeans held tight to his legs, down to the deck shoes that he wore upon his feet. He was what every male model in the world had ever dreamed of being. I would have sworn I was imagining him if it weren't for the fact that I was sure I was in no way capable of enough creativity to pull such beauty from thin air.
I wasn't sure how long I had been gaping at him when he turned his head to look in my direction. My eyes darted to my feet instantly allowing my hair to fall over my face and knees. I felt ashamed to have been caught staring. No matter how beautiful the specimen, it was still a very rude thing to do. I allowed myself a quick peek through my hair back over towards the man who looked more like Adonis than any man should. He had resumed staring back out across the lake with perfect stillness. I felt a strange hitch in my chest just from looking at him, as though I shouldn't be allowed to stare upon him in my blatant ordinariness. Blushing in my embarrassment, I turned away from him and contented myself to stare back across the water. I would not look again, I promised myself.
"It's rather depressing, isn't it?" said a voice as soft and smooth as velvet.
I looked over at the perfect man, realizing that he had spoken to me. Ordinary, un-model-like me. I found him to be looking back at me, his face even more gloriously flawless straight on than it had appeared in profile. His golden eyes pierced into me with such power that they seemed to materialize a lump in my throat. I continued to stare wide eyed, until I suddenly realized he was waiting for me to respond.
"What?" I responded. He seemed puzzled by my lack of understanding to his inquiry.
"The weather?" he added raising an eyebrow. He must have presumed I had no wits about me as I stared at him in a stupor.
"I – I actually find it kind of refreshing," I managed to stammer. I had to look away from him momentarily to avoid him seeing the burning red that was rising to my cheeks. He let out a low chuckle that sounded more like a set of wind chimes than laughter should.
"This is your idea of refreshing?" He said, as he smirked a crooked smile in my direction. It was a smile unlike any I had ever seen. It seemed the world around him exploded into to color under its spell, almost like the sun had suddenly shown straight through the clouds to lighten the world beneath his glow. I felt my heart flutter slightly under its influence and shook my head blinking in order to see through the haze forming in my mind. I resolved to look out across the water. It seemed to be the only way this conversation could proceed coherently.
"Actually – yes. It actually reminds me a lot of home. Grey – cold – damp. What's not to love?" There was a brief pause as he contemplated my words.
"Is it safe for me to assume then, that home isn't here," he inquired in his deep, smooth voice. I paused for a moment as the realization of that truth sank into my being, and filled me again with a sort of longing sadness, and endless frustration.
"It is now," I huffed out. He didn't immediately reply, and so I continued looking towards the horizon simply to prevent myself from looking back at his glorious face.
"And that's why you're out here – on the first day of the semester?" he asked.
"Because it's so – how did you phrase it – refreshing?" His tone conveyed what seemed to be skepticism but I didn't dare look at him to confirm my suspicions.
"Like I said – I just thought it was a nice day so I decided to take a walk," I stammered. As I had been told many times by Renee and Charlie, lying wasn't my strong suit. This man however, was a stranger, and couldn't see my facial expression. I hoped that my voice hadn't betrayed me.
"Then why do you seem so miserable?" he asked after a moment of hesitation. Apparently it had. I couldn't help but look up at him bewildered, and his remarkable beauty struck me with a fresh blow, stunning me anew.
"What makes you think I'm miserable?" I asked cocking an eyebrow at him as if this simple gesture would be sufficient to discredit him. He smiled, disarming me.
"I wasn't certain, but now I can unmistakably see it in your eyes." He seemed sure of himself as he spoke in his velvety musical voice.
"I'm not miserable," I insisted, my voice sliding up a tad farther than I would have cared for had I still been in control of my wits. He smiled at me softly.
"But you don't want an audience to your misery," he said, continuing as though I hadn't spoken.
"Yes. I can see that now. Whatever has you upset, you didn't want to confront it anywhere that would put your pain on display, so the first place you saw that you could run off to, you took advantage of. I apologize for disturbing you," he said in a factual tone. My mouth hung agape at how easily he had been able to read me from such limited interaction. It horrified me. I had always been an open book, this was something that was well established by my family, but never had I ever been so thoroughly and easily discovered. Not only discovered, but seemingly mocked for my debilitating embarrassment at the situation. I felt the crimson tide of frustration rising in my cheeks towards this unbelievably angelic man.
"Or perhaps…" he continued, "… perhaps you are choosing to be miserable." He stared down at the rounded stones lining the water's edge as if he had become lost deep in the recesses of his own thoughts.
"Why would I choose to be miserable?" I asked in an elevated tone, appalled that he had the nerve to even imply such a thing.
"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me! You don't know what I like, what I dislike or where I'm from. You don't even know my name," I practically shouted at him as I jumped to my feet, turning abruptly away from the lake, and stormed off towards the lush greenery to trudge my way back to the lawns and buildings of the university campus.
"Wait," I heard his velvet voice call after me, but I would do no such thing. I felt far too vulnerable to return. I suspected that I had fallen victim to his beauty the way countless others likely had in the past, and as he likely had in the past, he had used that vulnerability to taunt me. He may have been significantly more beautiful than the others around this place, but he was absolutely no better than the rest of them.
But I could do nothing to prevent his words from spinning around inside of my head, quietly digesting them, disassembling them and rearranging them. Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps I was miserable. Whether I was miserable or not, I was certain that I wasn't going to like it here. I was also certain that I never wanted to see him again. I never again wanted to hear his smug assumptions about me when he knew nothing about me at all. I was positive about that. Clearly beauty was not the measure of a man. I couldn't shake the feeling however, that a smile as enchanting as his, so mesmerizing as to bring color to the world, would haunt me for the rest of my days. I shook the thought away quickly, and my resolve hardened. I had no room in my life for any negativity but my own.
