A story written merely because I was bored. Hope you enjoy it!
Isabella Marie Swan. Isabella. Bella Swan. Bella.
Her name rolled off his tongue so easily. His pencil tapped the top of his desk, made from a cardboard box large enough to fit its purpose. Pencil dust drifted onto the table top and onto his newest sketchbook, made from fake leather, yet had the same smooth texture.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Outside echoed the raucous cries of children playing out in the street accompanied by the voices of their mothers, pleading them to come home.
Bella. He had only seen her on the street a few times, but it was enough to captivate him. Her face was heart-shaped and on it were the biggest doe eyes Edward had ever seen. Her iris was drowning in a pupil of chocolate. Or was it the other way around?
He sighed. Outside, a sunset smeared its colors across the sky, an array of orange, purple and musty yellow. More pencil dust flew as the pencil drummed furiously. The whole town was abuzz with the news of Chief Swan. He would be the warden at the city jail and refuge. Edward, who had been to the refuge more times than he would've liked to admit, should've hated Bella.
But he didn't. Why did she have to be so beautiful?
The door creaked open and his twin sister, Rosalie came in. Rosalie looked nothing like him, thought Edward. She was blond with the bluest eyes he had ever seen, anywhere. He had copper hair and those strange green eyes.
Like an alien, he thought bitterly.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Hastily, he covered up the sketch he was making. But Rosalie noticed it.
"What did you sketch?"
"None of your frickin' business."
"It's my room, so it's my business."
"Our room, Rosalie. Get it straight. OUR ROOM."
"What the fuck ever, okay? Just let me see it."
"No."
A look of realization suddenly washed over Rosalie's features. "I know what it is. It's that new girl, Bella, isn't it?"
"No." He couldn't being himself to meet his twin's eyes. They penetrated him like a bean of ice. He was frozen.
"Let me see." Edward pulled his hands away from his sketch.
Rosalie eyed it, wagging her head left and right. "You can forget it."
"Forget what?"
"Her. Bella. She'll never be interested. Have you heard the rumors? Her dad makes more in a year than what Mom would make in a lifetime."
"A lifetime, huh?" I snorted.
"C'mon, Edward. They live UPTOWN."
I was silent. I would not meet her eyes.
"Fine, be like that, but I'm telling you-"
The door slammed and my pencil point broke.
Crates and crates and crates of stuff were in the room. Bella sat in her room, watching the workmen unload her boxes of things. She had requested to unpack herself.
"Work is not for ladies," her mom had argued but Bella didn't want people touching her things. It was her room, after all. Sitting on her soft mattress in her white frilly dress, she wished that her wardrobe had been more diversified. Would a few pairs of pants hurt? Then, she thought again. Of course they would. All uptown girls, like her mother had lectured, wore nice little dresses. Pants were for men. She flopped on her bed. Listening to her mother was so tiresome. She nagged all day. She was going to attend a private school that had the ugliest uniforms ever. She had etiquette classes. Her mother even gave her a typewritten list of suitable spouses. On the bottom, underlined in red pencil, was NO DOWNTOWN BOYS. Who gave her the right to control who she MARRIED? She was sixteen, for goodness sakes! Bella sat there, fuming at her mother, until she finally realized that the sound of scraping wood and the yells of Italian among the movers had vanished. Quickly, she unpacked. At the bottom of the last box, she found a picture and a diary.
"Funny," she mumbled to herself. "I don't remember seeing these before."
Tucking them away in her drawer, she settled down for sleep. Just before dozing off, a plunk of a rusty guitar shattered her dreamy haze. She peered out from her curtains to a distant rooftop. There, a boy who was no older than seventeen strummed a guitar. His copper hair was blowing in the wind as he plucked the strings. He's so…beautiful, she thought. His face was perfectly chiseled. She tried not to look at his ragged shirt and jacket, because they gave her full display of his perfectly honed muscles. Suddenly, he started singing:
"Oooh..." His voice rang, like velvet. She shuddered.
"Uptown girl
She's been living in her uptown world,
I bet she never had an back street guy,
I bet her mama never told her why,
I'm gonna try for an uptown girl
She's been living in her white bread world
As long as anyone with hot blood can
And now she's looking for a downtown man
That's what I am"
She gasped. How could this boy be from downtown? He was so fine. That's dumb, Bella, the little voice snickered, You don't have to be rich to be seductive. Suddenly, she resented her mother's list of spouses even more.
"And when she knows what She'll see I'm not so tough
She wants from her time
And when she wakes up
And makes up her mind…
Just because
I'm in love with an uptown girl
You know I've seen her in her uptown world
She's getting tired of her high class toys
And all her presents from her uptown boys,"
Apparently, he was either in love with an uptown girl or a complete playboy. Still, Bella was drawn. His face, outlined by the silvery moonlight was perfectly chiseled. Another shiver ran down her spine. Uptown girl
"She's got a choice…" his voice faltered, then picked up again.
"Oooh...
You know I can't afford to buy her pearls
But maybe someday when my ship comes in
She'll understand what kind of guy I've been
And then I'll win."
His voice dropped completely. She knew it wasn't the end of the song. She knew that somehow, he couldn't go on.
He must really love her.
Bella was jealous. She didn't know why. "I don't even know this boy!" she whispered angrily to herself. But the feelings clashed still. Bella knew that somewhere, out there, a girl had stolen this boy's heart. Some uptown girl. Some other snotty uptown girl.
Like me, she thought. Just as she was about to go back to bed, a voice shouted:
"Why do you even try?"
Her eyes were drawn once more to the nighttime world outside, the scene on that same rooftop.
A blonde stood there, hands at her hips. For a second, Bella hoped that was his sister. But it wasn't possible. She was too different. Not only that, she was beautiful. Her curly hair tumbled down to her waist. Even from afar, the blue in her eyes shone, sparking under the beam of moonlight.
The radiant blonde continued. "This is getting annoying. Get off that roof top and get a life. NOW!"
The blonde took a breath and started again. "I have been running around town, trying to figure out where you were singing. I had to come from Jessica's house all the way to HERE, so I could shut your little mouth. What is wrong with you? Get off! Didn't I already say that?"
The copperhead boy slunk into the compound, not before shouting something about killing himself. The blonde snorted and followed him down. There was silence. Bella suddenly realized that the angry, bitch-like, yet beautiful girl might be the "uptown girl".
"Shit." She muttered, twirling her finger around her brown hair. It was so drab, she thought. Unlike the flowing waves the blonde had, she thought again. She crawled back to bed.
"I'm so tired," she yawned, and fell asleep to the plunking of ancient guitars.
The first thing he said to Rosalie at breakfast was, "I am NOT masochist."
She smirked. "Is that so? Then why were you crooning like a goddamned songbird at goddamned eleven at night on the rooftop about some girl you'll never get to know and then, threaten to jump of the building when I called you in?"
He had to admit, Rosalie made him sound like those mentally deranged idiots that threatened to kill themselves whenever something bad, like dropping their buttered piece of bread on the floor, happened.
Edward grunted and kept on eating.
2056 Delancey Road, read the slip of paper. Edward navigated his way through seas of people, until finally bumping into a very large stranger.
Emmett McCarthy.
Edward quickly pushed past him, but Emmett grabbed his arm.
Edward seethed. He didn't want to see that bastard again ever, but seemed like there wasn't much choice.
"How's my little Rosie?" he slurred. Edward glanced warily at the beer bottle in Emmett's hand. There was nothing sadder than seeing a drunk at two in the afternoon.
"Fine, now there you're not there."
His eyes went sad. "I loved her, you know."
Edward snorted and sneered, "Oh yeah? Well, next time I give you permission to date her, try not to cheat and try not to let me find you in bed with another of those little skanks you keep for company." He twisted his arm free and left Emmett standing there, looking lost.
Finally, he was at 2056 Delancey Road. It was a grand house, where he had been hired as a gardener for the summer. He peered warily at a button that said "Ring Here". Pressing it, a melody blared out, startling Edward. The door was opened by a man in a tuxedo. He smiled at Edward's surprised face. "Like our doorbell? Don't worry, I looked like that when I came to become the Swan's butler."
The Swan's?, thought Edward. He shook his head. It didn't seem likely. The butler led him to a courtyard that was bigger than his whole apartment. A man in a police uniform sat on a chair, smoking a pipe. Once he saw Edward, he stood up and shook his hand.
"Hello, I am Warden Swan."
Edward was perplexed. Surely not, he thought.
"You should meet my daughter," the warden Swan continued.
"BELLA!" he shouted.
Bella?
"Coming!" A girl in a bright yellow dress glided down the stairs. Once he saw her eyes, he stood there, frozen. Bella saw the new gardener. The same plucks from a guitar floated back from last night. Frozen, they stared at each other, transfixed. Chief Swan cleared his throat, not sure of what was going on. Finally, Bella took a step forward and shook Edward's hand.
"Nice to meet you," she smiled uneasily.
"Likewise," Edward gulped. "I mean, it's nice to meet you too."
I hope you liked it. Please review. I think I might be extending the story. After all I'm still bored. =)