Summary: Actor Robert Pattinson was all about method acting, until it completely consumed him. Mackenzie Brooks hated all things Twilight, especially Edward Cullen. When these two square off in Forks, WA, will either one survive, or will Stephenie Meyer's world cease to exist altogether?

Rating: R for Ridiculousness, and for language and sensuality

Status: Work in Progress

Category: crackfic; RP fiction

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Flying High

(Robert Pattinson)

I clutched the tattered pages of the manuscript to my chest as I wriggled my body against the fabric of the chair. First class was far more comfortable than coach but finding sleep while at a cruising altitude of 50,000 some feet was never an easy task. I had always found it difficult to clear my head but, in the past year, it'd become damn near impossible. Sometimes, usually while teetering along the cusp of consciousness, I felt that my reality was nothing more than an impossible dream that I was sure to wake up from at any moment. Every time I opened my eyes, the blinding camera flashes, paired with people frantically shouting my name reminded me that I wasn't dreaming.

My eyelids lazily opened as a loud sigh escaped from my lips. I stared down at the ragged pages in my hand and thumbed through them until I found my marker. How many hours had I spent pouring over those words? I knew them by heart; they had almost become my own. Edward Cullen wasn't as impossibly perfect as people romanticized him to be. He had many flaws, namely his desire to torture himself by believing his existence to be perilous. Miraculously, Bella Swan entered his life, irrevocably changing everything he thought to be certain.

I couldn't help but crack a small smile as I thought about the way Kristen's bottom lip protruded in a pathetic pout while costuming struggled to put her ridiculous wig back in place. The weave used in New Moon was definitely easier to manage but the excruciating pain it'd caused her was reason enough to return to wearing a wig during the filming of Eclipse. Regardless, some sort of Hollywood magic had been necessary to hide her jagged jet black hair. I had to give her insurmountable credit for being brave enough to go that extreme for a film. Taking on the role of iconic rocker Joan Jett in The Runaways had been a risky move, one that she received mixed feedback on. The film achieved notable success but not to the extent that it should have. Kristen's performance was bloody brilliant, and I was as in awe of her then as I'd ever been.

She was in so many ways my muse. I had her to thank for everything that had happened to me in the past few years and showered her with appreciation at every turn. It was Kristen who prompted Catherine Hardwicke to take a chance by casting me; that, and our extraordinary chemistry together. Neither Kristen nor I could have predicted how insane our lives would become after that fateful first reading.

Twilight had been a dynamite blockbuster, piloting both of us to instant fame in its wake. By the release of its sequel, New Moon, the two of us were household names, and I had become one of the most sought after actors in Hollywood. It was difficult not to get a big head from all the attention, not to mention the money, the cars, and the women who made the most outrageous requests that would've caused me to blush if I wasn't such a perverted bastard myself. However, my older sister Lizzie's previous brush with fame as a musician kept me grounded. Just like everything else, I knew that it wouldn't last forever. For as quickly as I had been thrust into the limelight, it could be over just as fast. Taking the advice of my manager Nick and one of my agent's Stephanie, I tried to enjoy it, though it wasn't always easy.

Fame held varying degrees, with international recognition being near the very top of the scale. Somehow, I found myself within this world-renown celebrity status – for better, or worse. Although I could have practically anything or anyone I wanted, it came with a high price: my privacy and freedom. As a young, naïve actor lusting over the glories of being involved in American films, I eagerly gave my life away, consequences be damned. For a while, I was alright with that decision. Between my amazing friends and supportive, yet overly protective and embarrassing family, my world only seemed to improve. Though, as my fame escalated, there were times when I cursed myself for choosing that life.

Kristen handled herself amazingly and I always took cues from her. Our friendship had grown exponentially since Twilight, and though our attraction for one another was undeniable, it hadn't been until shooting New Moon that we began exploring the possibility of a romantic relationship. We had been linked together in countless tabloids and in every language. Still, the thought of dating publically while the entire world watched was extremely uncomfortable.

Although I might be young and idealistic, I'm not ignorant to the disaster that befell the majority of high profile romances. Either the public pressure would become too much or couples would succumb to "mirror envy," a symptom that occurred when two high powered people come together only for their relationship to end in some horribly dramatic way usually caused by the fact that one's career far outshined the other's; simple jealousy. The only relationships I'd ever known to work out were those in which one counterpart took the backseat, allowing the other to remain in the forefront.

Kristen and I were young talents. Neither one of us would ask the other to fade into the background nor would we be willing to comply with such a request. Perhaps if things became more serious then that would be a discussion to be had. In our current state, we wanted to go after our own dreams and secure our own fates. It was for that reason amongst all others that we resigned ourselves to date as secretively as possible.

Initially, it was difficult to evade the media. They'd already painted us as a couple and were just waiting to get the coveted proof. We met in private at undisclosed locations and spent much of our time on set together. If we went out in public together we made sure to always be in a group, and even then we maintained our distance. Of course, there was the occasional hand-holding and gentle caress. It was enough to keep the gossip mongers salivating but not nearly enough to send them into frenzy. We didn't want our relationship to affect filming, and with only one more installment of The Twilight Saga left to shoot, we kept careful boundaries.

Dating like this was difficult, and it didn't come without consequence. Though our physical intimacy increased, neither she nor I was willing to give our heart away. That wasn't to say I didn't love her and she didn't return my affection, it was more so that we were practical. She was barely in her twenties and I was just four years her senior. It was too soon for us to be thinking about marriage, children, and the lot. We'd only begun to broach those subjects and knew that the true test of our relationship would be dating publicly, understanding that we couldn't stay cocooned in our blissful solitude forever. We had already slipped on far too many occasions, and it was only a matter of time before our charade came to an end. I only prayed that when it did, it wouldn't mean the end of us entirely.

My smile grew wider as I continued to think of Kristen. It'd been weeks since I had last seen her, and though we talked on the phone nearly every day, I couldn't wait to be back in her mesmerizing presence. I found it incredible that it was already fall of 2010. Months ago September seemed so far away. In just a few hours, the plane would touchdown on the west coast and I would be reunited with my Twilight cast mates, namely Kristen.

Over the course of filming the last three movies within the series, we'd all become rather close. I felt a twinge of sadness knowing that this would be the last time we would all come together. True, Breaking Dawn would be split into two films, ensuring maximum profit at the box-office. However, we would be shooting the last movie all at once. Then, The Twilight Saga would come to an end. I mulled over what life would be like after Edward Cullen but didn't linger on those thoughts for long. I still needed to channel him once more before I could shed my vampire skin forever.

With that, I carefully folded back the pages of the manuscript I held and began to reread the familiar words.

"My former irritation at being stymied by her silent thoughts was weak and pale in comparison for the need—and the hate—that possessed me know. For I hated this frail woman-child beside me, hated her with all the fervor with which I clung to my former self, my love of my family, my dreams of being something better than I what I was…Hating her, hating how she made me feel—it helped a little. Yes, the irritation I'd felt before was weak, but it, too, helped a little. I clung to any emotion that distracted me from imagining what she would taste like…"

Stephenie Meyer's words never ceased to inspire me. The two of us has discussed Edward Cullen at length, disagreeing at times about the cause of his rather unpleasant disposition but nevertheless seeking the same goal. We both wanted her character to come alive, or undead, on screen as she imagined. She'd provided me with her unpublished and unfinished manuscript of Midnight Sun, which gave me a wealth of insight into my character. However, Midnight Sun only catalogued Edward's prospective through Twilight and wasn't nearly half complete.

I felt lost going into New Moon but the screenplay had been so brilliantly adapted by Melissa Rosenberg that my anxiety was eased, though minimally. Chris Weitz, the director of New Moon, had sensed my discomfort and had coaxed Stephenie into providing me with more direction. I was utterly baffled when she showed up at the doorstep of my trailer and thrust a pathetic and ragged notebook into my hands.

"This is my life, Pattinson. Don't screw it up," she had warned with a weak smile, disappearing before I had a chance to respond.

What Stephenie had given me wasn't literally her life but it might as well have been. Inside the well-worn notebook was a collection of illegible scribbles, scraps of paper, beautifully written passages, and quick notes—all details of Edward Cullen's story. She had intended to rewrite The Twilight Saga from his perspective but unfortunately the first installment, Midnight Sun, was leaked. It was quite a blow for Stephenie to receive such negative feedback on rough, incomplete work. I could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her to decide to discontinue her writing pursuit. Although her desire to publicly tell Edward's story was suspended indefinitely, privately she persevered on the off-chance that one day Edward Cullen might resurface.

Stephenie's notes were sacred, and I was eternally grateful that she entrusted me with such personal affects. I kept the notebook, along with a copy of Midnight Sun secured close by me at all times, vowing to return these items once Breaking Dawn wrapped.

I poured over her notes, beginning my mental transformation into Edward Cullen. Though he was familiar to me as I'd played the role before, it was still a challenging task to become the brooding vampire. I felt confident that all the pieces would fall together once I was back on set with Kristen. I could play off of her with ease, and I was looking forward to our many scenes together.

A small part of me was a bit nervous though. Breaking Dawn called for us to be more intimate than the previous three films. I'd had plenty of these experiences while acting in other roles, having even been romantic with another man. Breaking Dawn would require much less nudity and sexuality than previous roles I had held, yet sharing on-screen intimacy with Kristen was still nerve racking. We'd seen each other much more naked than we would be while filming but that had always been private, just between the two of us. The thought of sharing ourselves openly, even acting as Bella and Edward, made me feel queasy.

I shook these thoughts from my head and instead concentrated on the scraps of paper in my hand. I needed to focus before I could get too ahead of myself.

Edward Cullen.

Edward Masen Cullen.

Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.

I repeated my character's many monikers, trying in vain to wrap myself around him but knew my efforts were futile. Although I could bring Edward to life, I would never truly understand him. I wasn't even sure if Stephenie Meyer knew him wholly and completely. I slowly slipped into realms of insanity as I allowed my brain to wander aimlessly. I understood that Twilight was a work of fiction, pure fantasy with passé romantic undertones—the good girl falls for the guy on the other side of the tracks; the devilishly handsome, impossibly perfect and wealthy man wants the seemingly ordinary girl above anyone else; star-crossed lovers try to defy fate and fight for a happily ever after. All these cliché's fit the bill with one hell of a twist of course. It all made perfect sense yet was completely outside of my grasp at the same time. Perhaps if I lived it, if I was there in the small, dismal town of Forks, Washington, then I would understand.

As this last thought flitted through my head, I almost choked on my laughter.

Perhaps if I lived it? I was clearly delirious and in need of sleep.

I closed the tattered notebook and placed it in the satchel next to me. My head lolled to the side as I reclined the seat back and stretched out my legs. Just before I fell to sleep, I repeated a familiar mantra.

Edward Cullen.

Edward Masen Cullen.

Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.

Someday, perhaps, I would know him.

1 Meyer, Stephenie. Midnight Sun.(StephenieMeyer . com: 2008), 14