Disclaimer: Twilight and all characters within belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. Please don't copy.

I'm going to attempt and try my hand at writing. Let me know what you think and if you actually think I should bother continuing. I apologize in advance for any errors/typos, I suck at editing. I promise if I continue I'll find someone to do that for me. Let me know if you're interested!

Here we go.

Chapter O1:

My fingers tap against the wooden armrest as I attempt to block out the words coming from my landlord's mouth. He's rambling on about the payment records for my rent, slowly getting to the reason why I am currently sitting in his office.

"Let's be real 'ere. Bella, toots, ya got three options. Pay all of ya missed rent with min. interest, move out by the end of the week, leavin' everythin' but the personals, or I cut off everythin' and get the police involved." He smacks on his pink gum, twirling a pen around in his fingers, waiting.

I run my hand through my long greasy brown hair, scrunching my nose up when my fingers get tangled halfway through it. I yank them out, wiping the dirt on my jeans; ignoring the incredulous look Mr. Brown is giving me. When he sees my expression, his face softens slightly.

"I know times is tuff, but I have a business to run, and ya at least four months behind, honey. I've let it go this long, I just can't do anything else for ya."

I nod understandingly, studying the carpet pattern while I think.

I know I can't just pay the rent up front, not now, and probably not for a few more months at least. I have student loans to pay off and no job in sight. Then again, I can't just live off of the streets again, can I? I certainly don't want to end up sitting in a cold metal cell for the rest of my life, either. I can feel the burning behind my eyes and I blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling. I look at Mr. Brown and push my glasses up my nose before replying.

"Um, well, I guess I'll, uh, I can't pay it...at all, so I'll, uh, I guess I'll find somewhere else to live?" I want to be confident in my answer, show him that I'm not just the pathetic little girl he thought I was, but somehow it manages to sound more like a question than an actual statement.

He looks down at his watch, most likely to avoid the inevitable awkward eye contact that is sure to happen when you're practically kicking out a person from their home. "Shit!" He exclaims, his eyes widening as he stands from his spot behind the desk. "I gots an appointment that I can't miss, but, Bella, ya gots until Friday to be gone. Leave all furniture and appliances, and if for some reason ya still 'ere by then, I gotta call the cops, ya hear?"

I nod hurriedly, standing and swiping up my bag into my hands before scurrying out of the room and practically sprinting to the elevator. The rustic metal gates creak as I push them open, hesitantly stepping into the lift and pressing the number for my floor. Only when the door is completely shut do I sink against the wall and begin to cry.

I don't want to be homeless; I don't want to live off the streets without a job or home. My hair is greasy from having no water, my clothes stink, and I can't apply for another loan. It had taken me five years to earn my degree, and by the time I had graduated only two months ago, I had collected more student loans than I could possibly afford to pay back.

If my parents could see me now, I'm sure they would disown me.

With a jolt the elevator slows to a stop. I scramble out of it and into my one room apartment down the hall. I don't have time to think, I don't have time to decide if this is my only option, or even the best one, I simply shove whatever I can see into my bag, making sure I collect anything of true value.

And walk right back out.

I'm not going to stay in this rabbit-hole any longer. I have a life to life and dreams to reach. I don't know when I'm going to eat again, how I will take a bath or where I will sleep tonight. I just know, in this moment, that I'm not going to sit in a damp apartment and wait to figure it all out. I'm going to live in the moment and take one step at a time.

By the time the sun has set deep beyond the horizon, the street lights have already flickered on and the city has come alive. I'm already ready to go back to Mr. Brown and grovel at his feet for my place back. I feel more lost and alone than ever.

I weave though the crowds of people congregating in clusters on the sidewalk and continue walking, waiting for something, anything to happen. With any luck I'll pass an elementary school or playground of some sort and curl in a slide. I had done it before and as far as my options go, it is definitely not the worst case scenario.

At some point I think of calling one of my few friends from college, Jasper Hale. My first year of college we had shared some classes together and had formed a pretty good friendship out of it, but he was a junior then. We had been close, like siblings, and still are for the most part. I haven't heard from him a few weeks, though, but something told me, if I call him, he would be here…maybe.

I sigh, shuffling my feet forward. I have been walking for hours and want nothing more than to curl up in a warm bed and sleep for days. When I catch sight of a slightly outdated public pay phone a few feet away, I know exactly what I have to do. I quicken my pace and approach the dirty, graffiti filled phone poll. I swing my old brown messenger bad in front of me and begin to rummage through it for two quarters.

Somehow, I manage to find them swiftly and insert them into the machine, praying it still works and that Jasper isn't already asleep or at Alice's house, his fiancée.

After the third ring, I'm just about to hang up and figure out a Plan B when someone picks up. "Jasper Hale's personal phone, Becky McDonald speaking." Whoever this Becky is, she is definitely way to energized for this time of nighgt, and I wonder what she's on and why she's answer Jasper's phone. I know he has a secretary for the office, but for his cell phone too?

I clear my throat, look down at the sidewalk and question whether or not this is a good idea. "Uh, hi, this is Bella, Bella Swan. I'm a friend of Jasper's." I pause to take a deep breath, "Is he there?" I don't feel like talking to a secretary, I know it will be easier for me if I just talk to him directly instead of through some intern.

"One second, please." I can hear some muffled voices in the background. Whoever was there is obviously talking about me, and I'm sure one of them is Jasper or at least a man.

"Hey Bells, how's it going?" I'm surprised when I hear his southern drawl. I honestly hadn't expected him to want to talk to me after hearing parts of the conversation on the other side. It hadn't seemed like he was particularly thrilled with the idea of taking my call so late at night.

I try to quickly figure out how I'm going to ask him before answering. "Fine, fine…well, no, not really, Jasper?" I question, internally deciding if he answers I will tell him and if he simply brushes me off, I'd play it off as nothing and see him at lunch later in the week and let him get back to doing whatever it is twenty-five year old men do at eleven o'clock on Wednesday nights.

"Bella, what is it? Are you alright?" Something about his anxious tone makes my selfish insides tingle. Somewhere, deep down, Jasper actually still cares about my nerdy bookworm self.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, still breathing." – I chuckle nervously and cringe at my lame attempt to lighten the atmosphere- " I was actually wondering if there was any way you could possibly perhaps manage to- " Luckily, he interrupts my hopeless cowardly rambling.

"Just spit it out Bells, you know I'm there for you." He orders with a sigh.

"I need somewhere to stay tonight." Heat spreads throughout my face and down my neck as embarrassment sweeps through me. Here I stand with nothing more than an old ratty messenger bag, homeless, while Jasper is probably at some fancy publishing firm, getting ready to leave for his extravagant apartment somewhere in the city.

I know I could have easily asked him for money when I started to drown in debt, I know he would have given it to me without even asking me to pay him back, but I couldn't. I couldn't slash at my pride that badly, I couldn't give up the part of myself that told me I could do anything I wanted to…on my own. This is the most wounding I think my pour pride can handle.

"Where are you and are you safe?" No "are you in trouble" or "why"s come out of his mouth, but then again, I know him enough not to expect him to dig for details right now.

I rattle off the street corner I'm standing on, meanwhile looking around for some fast food restaurant or diner I can sneak into and wash up in the bathroom. After a quick good-bye and a promise from Jasper that he'd be here within an hour, I scramble across the street to a local gym.

One thing I know about fitness centers is that business men sometimes go there during their lunch break and nearly always take a shower before leaving. I figure if I am somehow able to inconspicuously get into there, I might just be able to wash off everything that had happened the last few days and be completely fresh for when Jasper picks me up.

There you have it. Short and sweet. Let me know if you think I should continue or just give up on writing anything other than in my journal! If I do continue updates will be weekly, longer, and hopefully not something I come up with at 11 o'clock at night.

-Rae