Some people say that having a twin is like having a ready-made best friend. In some ways, it's true. But when you're stuck being the lesser of the two, it's like being a living shadow. It's like being the left over toys at the garage sale. It's like being a used car in a lot full of brand new BMWs. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister with my whole heart. But sometimes I wish I could be to one in the spotlight instead of the one in the background.

Rosalie is my younger sister. Of course, when I say younger, I mean by 7 minutes and 43 seconds. I came out, quiet and calm and the doctors were all stumped by how calm I was. I didn't even cry until they spanked my butt. I was just curious about my surroundings. They handed me to my dad who showed me to my mom and they tell me that they oo'd and aww'd over me as much as they could until my mom's contractions started up again. Then, my dad passed me over to a nurse and held my mom's hand until my sister came into the world, kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. My mom says that I was so quiet because it was like I knew they couldn't take two babies screaming. So I left the screaming and attention getting to Rosalie. And that is how it has always been.

When we were babies, my mom says that I was the perfect baby, better than any one could hope for. I never cried unless I was hungry or tired. I was always smiling and gurgling at them. Rosalie, on the other hand, was a handful. She was the typical baby, crying all the time and constantly waking up my parents. Because of that, naturally, she got more attention than I did. I don't resent it, because that is what had to be done. If I was crying, I got held. If she was crying, she got held. Unfortunately, I never cried so I was left on my own to entertain myself with my teddy bear and pacifier. When we got older, Rosalie was the first one to start walking. Of course, I started later that day, but when I did it, it wasn't a big deal because Rose had done it already. The same thing went for talking and reading and every other stepping stone in our life.

You see, Rosalie was a certified genius. Literally. Well, almost. When we were going into kindergarten, we both went through testing and, of course, she tested way higher than me. She was what they called "profoundly gifted" and I was somewhere between average and slightly above average. So I guess I was slightly slightly above average. So, Rose was smart. And attention grabbing. She was also downright gorgeous.

Rose is what you would call stunning. And that's exactly how everyone that meets her feels at first, stunned. She has platinum blond hair, gorgeously large baby blue eyes, and golden skin that seems to simply absorb the sun and reflect it back at people. She is also statuesque with mile long legs and a teeny tiny waist. She did a bit of modeling when we were younger, actually. We were in the mall with my mom one day when we were about 8 and a lady came up to us, handing my mom a flyer.

"This young lady must be your daughter, she's beautiful!" the lady said as she touched Rosalie lightly on the head and smiled at my mom. "And who's this one?" she said as she smiled politely over at me.

"That's my other daughter. They're twins" my mom said offhandedly as she was studying the flyer intently. Rosalie was staring at the lady's strange colored hair, just like I was and I could tell she was about to ask about it. I touched her arm and shook my head as she frowned at me and crossed her arms.

"Well, isn't it too bad she doesn't look more like her sister," the lady stated in a pitying tone. My mother looked up from the flyer and fixed her gaze on the lady, making her shift uncomfortably. Rosalie glanced over at me quickly and grabbed my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Apparently she wasn't angry anymore.

"Actually, it isn't. Is there something you wanted?" The lady cleared her throat awkwardly and started her sales pitch.

"I represent Seattle Models Guild, one of the top modeling agencies in Washington and we are looking for the new face of our spring campaign. Have you ever considered getting your, ehem, girls into modeling?" she asked, careful to not offend us anymore. She continued to give information to my mom who was soaking it all in.

Later that evening, around the dinner table, mom was discussing it with my dad, who wasn't as convinced as my mother was.

"Charlie, this could be a great opportunity. Lacy from my book club was a model when she was younger and she said that from just a couple of jobs, she was able to pay for college. Her mother saved the money she made in an account and she was able to go to almost any school she wanted to! Don't you want that for your daughter?" my mother said, as she looked over fondly at Rose. Rose smiled up at my mom and then looked over at me.

"Belly can do it too, right mama?" My mom looked over at me and gave me the same smile the lady at the mall gave me.

"I don't think so, Rosalie. Bella, you wouldn't even want to do it, would you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, confused why I couldn't do it with Rose.

"Renee, I think it would only be fair to Bella if she gets a chance, just like Rose. If one gets it and the other doesn't, I think we shouldn't proceed," my dad said in the tone of voice he gets when he wants no more questions about it.

That same week, we went to the modeling agency with my mom and Rose and I took so many pictures that my face hurt from smiling so much. We waited about a week until the people called back one day when Rose and I were at school. That night at dinner, my mom pleaded with my dad to let Rose do this because, of course, Rose got it and I didn't.

"Girls, I got some exciting news from the modeling agency today," my mom said as soon as we sat down at the table. Rose and I both looked at each other and squealed loudly.

"Did we get it?" we both asked at the same time. My mom glanced at me briefly before continuing on.

"Actually, Bella wasn't selected this time, but Rose, you were! Isn't that exciting sweetie?"

"Renee, what did I say? I don't want her to do it. It's not fair to Bella," my dad said as he put his hand over my arm. My mom huffed in annoyance.

"Bella doesn't really care, do you sweetie? Don't you want Rose to do this?" I didn't really, but for the last 2 weeks, all Rose was talking about was how cool it would be to be a model. She was so excited about it. I was too, I just wasn't as invested as she was. It hurt my feelings that she was picked and I wasn't, but I wanted her to be happy, and the modeling would make her very happy.

"No, I don't mind. If Rose wants to do it, then she should," I mumbled as I pushed around the food on my plate. Rose was looking at me curiously, but she didn't say anything.

"Perfect! Then it's settled. Rose and I will go up there this weekend. Bella, maybe you and daddy can have a fun day fishing!" she said as she started eating her food, still beaming at Rosalie.

Later that night, I was in my room finishing some homework when I heard Rose coming toward my door.

"Come in," I said before she even knocked. We've always been able to do that. It comes with the territory of being twins; we always know when the other is close by. It's like a sixth sense. She opened the door quickly and shut it behind her softly before flinging herself down on my bed. I turned in my desk chair to face her.

"You don't want me to go to the modeling place," she stated matter-of-factly. I should have known she would pick up on that.

"It's not that I don't want you to do it, it's that I wanted to do it too."

"Then I won't do it. I don't want to make you sad," she said. And the thing is, she totally meant it. Because no matter how much attention she gets for her looks and smarts, Rosalie is a genuinely good person. She is sweet and caring and she really and truly wants me to be happy. Dang her and her perfection.

"Rosie, how about you do it for both of us. Since they don't want me, you can do it and tell me all about it, k? I don't really mind that much. Besides, I have my art classes so it probably wouldn't have worked anyways," I told her reassuringly.

"Are you lying?"

"Nope."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky pinky promise." She smiled at me and jumped up to give me a huge hug. That weekend, she and my mom went into Seattle and took care of the details. For the next few years, and all throughout high school, she took modeling jobs here and there and made a pretty good name for herself. When we graduated, she decided not to pursue a career in modeling and instead decided to go to MIT.

Like I said earlier, Rosalie was a nearly certified genius, which meant that every subject in school came relatively easy to her. She especially excelled in math and ended up taking AP calculus and statistics in high school. She got straight As in her other classes as well, and was Valedictorian. Because she was whip smart without even trying, she was able to do an abundance of extra curricular activities including, but not limited to cheerleading (of course), student council (class president), debate team (club president), and soccer (varsity captain). She was the golden girl of the school and everyone loved her. She was the girl everyone wanted to be, but no one hated because she was too nice to dislike. She was at every party, at every school function, and almost always on the front page of the school newspaper. Everyone knew her, which also meant that everyone knew me. Or at least of me. I was the other Swan. The school's nobody girl. While Rosalie was the shining star, I faded into the background and came out the other side without changing the school or making a name for myself. The only lives I had probably impacted were my art teacher's, my math teacher's, and my best friend's. My art teacher thought I was going to be famous someday, my math teacher wanted to quit after she tried and failed to teach me, and my best friend because, well, he was my best friend so I like to think I made high school bearable for him.

One thing I should mention is that I do excel at one thing, and that would be art. I have gifted hands, what can I say? But really, I am quite talented. Because I was just an average student and barely scraped by with Bs (by working my butt off every night AND having Rose tutor me in math and science), I needed something to compensate for my pathetic excuse for life. That compensation came in the form of art. Ever since I was little, I was creative and found inspiration in everything. I still do, which is why I'm successful, thank god. I took to drawing like a fish takes to water. As I got older, I took art classes through the community center and I dabbled in all kinds, clay making, sculptures, figure drawing, and all kinds of painting. I loved every one of them, especially the portraits. I took a class on portraits at the community college when I was in high school and fell in love the very first day. Anyways, my high school art teacher, Mrs. Jones, believed in me like nobody else did. My parents never understood, and Rose tried to but never really got it. Mrs. Jones put in extra time with me during lunch, after school, and sometimes before school. She pushed me to my limits and made me hate art and love it at the same time. She taught me to find my passion for the subjects and how to transfer that to the art piece. She would tell me all the time that I was her protégé and that if she had ever had a daughter, she wished she were like me. She was, and still is, my biggest fan and I love her for it.

Because of my passion for art, I decided to pursue that as a career. My mother didn't approve at all, saying that I would never succeed because I wasn't good enough. I don't blame her for saying that because she was only trying to prepare me for the real world, but at the same time, I resented her for not believing in me. My dad did. My dad always believed in me, he just never expressed it. While Rose takes after my mom in looks and some personality, I take after my dad in both. As you've probably guessed, we're fraternal twins. Where she is a blond bombshell, I have the average looks and coloring. I have dark brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. I'm not ugly by any means, but I'm also not gorgeous. I'm just…average. The only thing Rose and I have in common is that we are the same height, even though I am curvier than her. I'm slim, but I definitely have hips and breasts. She always tells me she's envious of that, even though she definitely has curves too, they're just not as full as mine. Anyways, along with taking after my dad in looks, I also take after him in temperament. I've always been pretty shy and quiet, more than willing to let Rose take over the spotlight. I like to think I'm a nice person, but when I'm with my close friends and Rose, I tend to have a sarcastic bite and a rather silly personality. I guess you could say I march to the beat of my own drum. You have to understand, thought, I had to. I had to do things differently than Rose because otherwise, she always overshadowed me. Call it self-preservation.

So, while Rose chose to go the more intellectual route and attend MIT, I chose to follow my dreams and went to RISD (Rhode Island School of Design). It was actually my reach school, but the board of admissions guy personally called me to thank me for applying and tell me they were more than happy to accept me into their school. He said that my portfolio had brought a few of the board members to tears (an exaggeration, I'm sure) and that they would be lucky to have me there. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I cried. My best friend was right there with me, seeing as we were working on homework, and he just held me until I calmed down enough to tell him I was actually accepted not denied. Then he cried with me.

Edward, my best friend, was just like that. He felt what I felt and I felt what he felt. Sometimes it felt like we were twin as well. Only I guess we were fate twins. We met freshman year of high school and have been inseparable since then. He was what you would call a nerd. He was tall and lanky, having not quite grown into his limbs that seemed to flail whenever he moved. He was awkward in just about everything he did and extremely clumsy, but then again so was I. He was extremely smart, though. He was second in our class, just behind Rosalie. Unlike Rosalie, he was extremely unpopular, just like me. I guess we were meant to be best friends. He was the president of the chess club (no joke) and the co-president of the Pre-pre med club (which he also co-founded). He wanted to be a doctor, just like his dad. The thing is, I could totally see him becoming a doctor back then because of his gentle nature when handling people. Even though he was awkward and clumsy, he was unendingly sweet and empathetic. He loved kids too, which is why he wanted to go into pediatrics. His mom and dad were incredibly supportive of his decision to follow in his dad's footsteps. Although, when I think about it, they would have been supportive of him if he wanted to work at McDonald's for the rest of his life.

So, Edward and I were the best of friends and we did pretty much everything together. We weren't in the same classes but we were together during breaks, lunch, after school, and weekends. Nights, of course were saved for my bonding with Rose, something we had started when we were really little. She always came into my room and laid down in my bed while we talked the night away. We always fell asleep before she could move back to her own room. We did this until we moved away for college, actually, even on the nights when she came home super late from a party. She would slip into bed with me and tell me all about it. Edward and Rosalie were pretty much my only friends. They were everything to me. That's why I was so glad when we all ended up so close for college. Edward went to NYU for pre-med and medical school, Rosalie went to MIT for engineering, and I went to RISD for art.

It turns out, after we all finished college (at different times, of course) we all ended up back in Seattle. This, however, is not a story of the past. It's the story of the very recent past that could almost be described as the present, even though the events I'm about to tell you already happened. So, here we go. Part 1: My successful tale of life after college and starting my own gallery.