A/N: Okay so, this takes place right as Rosalie meets Royce King II, and goes through their relationship and her life until he finally snaps and...you know. Then she wakes up a vampire, meets Carlisle; you know the rest. This is my version, and is primarily a RosaliexEmmett love story, it just takes time to get there.

Bear with me okay?(get it? Pun not intended!) Anywho, review!

Ps. I'm not sure when my next update will be considering my Internet may be getting cut off, but I will try to get chapters out soon! I hope that doesn't prevent you from alerting, reviewing, or enjoying the story in any way!

- IDreamOfBlueSkies

I grip the sides of my large, dark cherry wood dresser, gritting my teeth as my torso seems to be getting smaller each second. I narrow my watering, blue violet eyes into lofty, opaque mirror at the pain. My reflection irritatedly mirrors my every painful expression, mocking me.

It seems I have been here for nearly hours to no end.

" Mother I still don't- see- why I have to- wear such a -fancy dress to- deliver father's meal, that he so clumsily left behind," I mutter dreadedly through gritted teeth, and lift my eyes to the mirror to stare at my mother, who only continued fastening the strings to the back of my dress, muttering for me to be still.

" You never know who you might encounter, Rosalie. Even it does happen to be your father's bank. Besides, you're father deserves to have his lunch- being such the hardworker he is,"

I chuckle bitterly and glare into the mirror, at her; oblivious to what my mother was even talking about.

" Yes, because it is such hard work looking after the peasants who work there. He barely even lifts a finger- being the owner's assisstant,"

She just sighs and ties the last knot. "Be still Rosalie! I am nearly done,"

Just as I start to feel slightly light headed- she turns me around by my shoulders to observe my form. She nods and grins content, a pleased expression on her face, despite my scowl. Her greyish black hair fell loosely to her shoulders in strands, only adding to how much older she seemed to be.

The wrinkles under her eyes revealed her to be in her late forties; her smile the only sign of youth.

" Please be considerate Rose," Mother pleads, her tired eyes staring into mine. I just sigh and turn to face the mirror again,and lift her chin, observing my appearance.

I don't look tacky or unkept, I could see that.

The dress hugs and shapes my body perfectly- giving me a sleek and desired hourglass look, my waist even smaller now that I wear the corset, Mother took so much time tightening and adjusting.

I looked like a living, breathing angel.

" Very well Mother, if that is what you want," I reply stiffly, and pick up the bottom of my dress gently, exiting the bedroom. I make my way down the stairs- my silver, three inch heels clacking against the rich, birch trim flooring. The sound of my arrival brings forth two small, boys that clumsily make their way from the kitchen to see me.

" Rosey looks so pweety!"

I snap my head down to the small four year old boy. His shoulder length, messied, light brown hair barely falls over his lashes as he grins, one tooth missing from the front. It is hard to stare at his face that is covered in mashed potatoes, his soft blue eyes beaming into mine innocently.

For his sake I smile. " Rosalie is always pretty, Vincent," I correct the five year old, and turn to the other one that had been quietly observing my dress. I narrow my eyes at the boy that always seem to annoy me, even on my best of days, and he meets my eyes, raising his brows.

" What it is Zachary?" I ask him, placing my hands on my hips.

" Why does your dress look like that?"

I scowl. " It is customed-tailored, which means it was crafted by bare hands, and sewn to perfection. You would know nothing of the sort, being a boy and all,"

"Huh?"

" Oh dear, Vincent sweetheart! Your face!" Mother exclaimed in shock, scooping up the little boy in her arms. He giggles ecstactically at the sudden rush- but looks up to her apologetically.

"I'm sowwy Mummy,"

" I will draw the young boy a bath," Meredith, one of the elder maids suggested as she watched with a irked expression. It bothered her just as much as Mother- to see such a filthy face.

" Here is Mr. Hale's lunch, Miss Hale," I recognize the soft and feeble voice to be Cosette Corday, yet another maid my family has been given to serve us.

We have many maids, you see.

Her sky-blue eyes bore into mine aversely as she waited for me to respond. Sent all the way from France, she was also a natural blonde, though hers was shoulder length.

Her skin was milk pale, and she was disturbingly thin, her hair always tied in a dark red ribbon- something I've picked on since the first time she arrived to serve us.

Her accent was a bit heavy, and at times it was hard to understand her; but with the trained ear I am able to comprehend better than the rest of my family.

She was I suppose, decent. But not as beautiful as me, that I knew for certain.

My father's usual small tin box, wrapped in a soft pink cloth, was placed into my hands, and I winced at how warm it still was; Father had left not even an hour ago.

" I apologize Miss Hale. I should have checked zey box before I gave zit to you,"

" No matter, I suppose you weren't aware. Let's not let it happen again," I suggest and bows her head, muttering obediently. It is then that my feel my mother grab my forearm, and lead me to the front door. One of the maids, whom I forgot their name, opened the door immediately for me, and I step outside.

I instantly feel the sun's warmth of the bareness of my back and hear the slight chirping of the family of sparrows that decided to take residence near our garden a few months prior.

" Off you go now dear," I hear Mother call out, and I start down the stairs- out the main gate, and towards my father's workplace. That is when the usual stares come my way- something I've grown used to whenever Father would take us out to attend a city event involving his position at work, or to take a ride or stroll around the city.

They were of pure admiration.

Jealousy.

Of hate.

The Great Depression had bought many citizens to poverty, and my family seems to be one of the only ones living wealthy and happy, while others suffer and starve to death on the streets; fathers, mothers, families.

It is not unknown to me; I know what is happening around me.

And as low as it might sound, I don't care.

I am being taken care of, and that's all that matters. Of course my parents would shower me with love and materialistic things- they treat me as I were some beauty reincarnation of an angel.

They respect and cherish my beauty; as much as I do.

That is why Mother decided to send me out this afternoon. To catch the eyes of a wealthy suitor and marry, eventually have kids of my own.

It is what many young women are doing these days; after they graduate from nursing or secondary school. And though I have only been homeschooled all my life, it isn't oblivious to me that whenever I go out in public, I have yet another admirer working up the courage to court me.

Every morning I am sent letters; flowers, from all over town from different men. Some odd enough noticed me from afar and were too timid to greet me; some middle-aged who are tired of their wives and looking for a beautiful young maiden to become their bride. Young beggar men who expressed their love for me, as if seeing an angel for the first time.

How captivated my beauty made them.

And just as my eyes graze the yet another thin sheet of silk- I set it aside, pushing them the farthest from my mind.

It may seem rude, foolish even; but I don't want to meet my husband that way. A secret admirer that some how managed to obtain my home address and sent me gifts. It is hardly appropiate in my eyes.

I want it to be romantic.

Intimate even.

Father's workplace is hardly the romantic setting.

I walk up the steps to the entrance and enter the door and pushed it open, letting myself inside. I began scouting for my father as I make my way towards his office, walking past a couple of workers now and then who can't help but stare, seeing me for the first time.

The air is thick with smoke as I make my way towards he back- the scent of cigars filling my nose. I recognize them as the cigars my father smokes so much when he's at home, relaxed on the loveseat, with a glass of whiskey in the other hand.

Soon enough I spot him at the end of the hallway, next to entrance of his office. He is not alone; but chatting with a fairly young looking man. I cannot make his features out this far away, but I make sure to put a polite smile on my face as I reach them. A fat, lit cigar hangs loosely from my father's lips as he grins to the man next to him, laughing.

"Excuse me Father, Mother insisted I bring you your lunch. You know how she gets when you leave on an empty stomach," I greet him with a smile. He turns to me, completely baffled that I was here, but he chuckles nonetheless and takes the wrapped box from my hands.

" Your mother sure is something isn't she?" I avert my eyes when I notice the other man staring. He is a little taller than my father, sporting a fancy looking grey suit and black tie, a large golden pocketwatch hanging from his pants pocket. He is rich, and quite handsome, I note. His hair is curly and short, a dark brown contrasting perfectly with his deep brown eyes and pale skin.

He grins a bright smile- perfectly white teeth, tipping the hat on his head.

" This is your daughter, Mr. Hale? How unfortunate we've never met before," He asked-his eyes on me, as he addressed my father. I could hear my father clear his throat, and he chuckled, turning to me.

" There is hardly an occassion for introductions Royce. This is my oldest and only daughter Rosalie. Rosalie, this is Royce King the second, my boss's son," He introduces proudly, grinning from me to Royce, puffing smoke from the side of his lips.

" What a pleasure it is to meet a beautiful young woman such as yourself, Miss Rosalie Hale," He replies to me, taking my hand gently in his, and in a swift movement, places a soft kiss on the center. The spot is warm when he pulls his lips away, and I stare into his eyes, my face growing hot.

" The pleasure is all mine, Royce," I reply, surprisingly flirtatious, as nervous as I was right then. He finally lets go of my hand and I let it drop at my side.

It is the first time I experience something like this. This falling in love. My heart beats incredibly fast, and I can't help but feel ashamed at how hot my face it getting. My body gets all tingly, and I feel as if there are butterflies in my stomach.

I like this feeling.

Perhaps my mother sending me here wasn't such a drag after all.