Pairings: Edward/MALE!Bella (Beckham Messiah Swan)
Disclaimer: I DONT NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR ITS CHARACTERS (except for maybe Beck, he is an OC, even if he is Bella in a way). If I did own twilight, than it would have been much like this story. If you are reading this, then I'm sure you've seen the M rating when you clicked. This means there will be violence and maybe sex later on in the story. So, don't like, don't read.
Authors Note: This story revolves around the movie AND the book verse, and Beckham (pronounced: BECK-uhm) will be like Bella in some ways, but he might make different decisions, act or react differently than to how regular Bella would. I will be trying to stay with the original story line and plot (for now at least, unless I want or need to make a change), so no worries there. This is kind of a plot-bunny in my head, and I haven't seen much of a male Bella story, so I thought I would give it a go. This is kind of a stepping stool for me to get more used to the Twilight verse, so do not worry about "Those Red Eyes," I will be continuing it when I can get better bearings on it. DO NOT FRET! Anyway, enjoy the story!
Words: Near 4,000.
THIS IS THE UPDATED/FIXED VERSION!
CHAPTER 1
I'd never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of someone I love, seems like a good way to go.
Noble even.
That ought to count for something.
So, I can't bring myself to regret the decision to leave home.
I would miss Phoenix. I'd miss the heat. I would miss my mother and her new husband.
But they wanted to go on the road, so I'm going to spend some time with my dad and this will be a good thing...
I think.
X X X
My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down completely. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, and the sky was perfect, a cloudless bright blue. I was wearing my favorite loose, dark green tank that was a bit too long and rumbled a bit at my waist. My carry-on item was a black and grey parka that my mom had bought for me recently for this memorable time.
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was in this gloomy town that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I had been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past few summers my dad vacationed with me in California instead. My dad is Charlie, he is the chief of police in Forks.
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself to—an action that had me nervous and practically cringing. I didn't much like Forks.
Forks Population: 3,120 people.
"Beck," my mom spoke up—the last of a thousand times—before I would be getting on the plane for my flight to horror-ville. "You know, you don't have to do this."
I felt a faint twinge of panic as I stared at her wide, child-like eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the fridge and on the table every night, gas in the car, and someone to call if she got lost, but still, I was going to really miss her. I just prayed that she would be happy. If Phil ever hurt her, then he would have me to deal with. I'm a forced to be reckoned with when I'm angry, especially if the cause for my animosity has to do with family. I warned Phil the first time I met him, constantly in between, and before we left the house, so I'm pretty sure that he got the message I was giving him.
Let's hope for Phil's sake that he doesn't screw up, or his head might end up on a silver platter.
"I want to go." I lied, rather easily, which scared me a bit. I had always been a horrible liar, but I think I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded convincing now.
"Tell Charlie I said hi."
"I will."
"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home anytime you want, sweetheart—I'll come right back as soon as you need me."
I could see the sacrifice in her teary eyes behind the promise.
"Don't worry about me mom," I reassured. "It will be great. I love you," I said and brought her into a warm and tender hug. I am a slight mama's boy.
Slight.
She hugged me back tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.
It is a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles and then an hour drive back down to Forks. The flying didn't really bother me all that much, though I was kind of dreading the hour long car ride.
Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole entire thing. He seemed genially pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time, and of my own free will. I knew that he was more than a little confused about my decision—like my mother. I hadn't made it a secret about my dislike for Forks, but he seemed to let the whole thing slide, seemingly happy enough about my choice.
He probably didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car. I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on the top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.
I just really hope that he doesn't pick me up in that thing, but knowing him…
He probably would.
X X X
"Your hair's longer."
Charlie started up a conversation in his cruiser—I had been right—I guess hoping he could break the comfortable silence we had situated ourselves into. Well, at least it was comfortable for me, in some sort of manner of speaking. There was only so much we could really talk about. You'd think not seeing each other for a while would give us a bunch to talk about and catch up on. Though, this was not the case. We both seemed to find this somewhat awkward—especially me—but I guess it was a good thing that he was trying.
I picked at a strand of my long, wavy, almost shoulder length, dark brown hair out of my face—the tips of my hair were about an inch or so from my shoulders—and nodded a bit.
"I've let it grow out since the last time I saw you." I muttered softly and messed with a strand of my soft hair, twirling it around my finger a bit in a somewhat girlish manner. My gaze only flickered to him once before my eyes landed back on the scenery outside.
"Well," he huffed and slouched his shoulders some, seemingly trying to relax, "it looks nice on you," he commented, his attempt at relaxing failing as his grip visibly tightened on the wheel.
I guess he thought it was a complement, which in an aspect, it kind of was. Mom did always like my long hair, even if I was a guy, but she would say it looked cute. Which wasn't at all what I was going for—not that I was going for anything in particular—though even so, I couldn't bring myself to cut it. At least he said it looked nice, instead of my mom's cute. I would take that.
We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet and muggy, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We then just went back to staring out the windows in silence. I had to admit that everything was beautiful, but it was so green that I swore it could be an alien planet.
We soon arrived at my dad's place and I could feel some of the awkward atmosphere from the car ride melt away, if only a little. I slowly slid myself out of the cruiser and looked up at the old house. He still lived in the small, two bedroom place that he'd bought with my mom in the early stage of their marriage. Early stage was really the only stage for them.
We gathered up my stuff from the trunk of the car and took it upstairs, thankfully in only one trip. I didn't really have much stuff to begin with, but I had cut away more than half of my clothes because they were all for Phoenix weather conditions. There was no need for tanks and shorts here.
I was really going to miss Phoenix and its blistering heat.
"I cleared some shelves off in the bathroom for you."
Oh, right. One bathroom. How could I have forgotten? Sharing a bathroom with Charlie was going to be a challenge, but I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.
I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room looked familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue-green walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellow lace curtains around the window—these were a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made was switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew older. The desk now held a second hand computer,probably for school work, and an almost rusted looking desk lamp.
"It's a pretty good work lamp," he said solemnly as he placed my bags down on the floor. He then rested his hands on his hips a bit, surveying the room once before pointing lightly to the bed. "The sales lady picked out the bed stuff," he added and looked at me nervously, his brows furrowed. "You, uh…you like purple, right?"
I nodded a bit and glanced at him. "Purple's cool, I guess." I answered in a hushed tone and fiddled with my hair a bit. I really needed a good and thorough shower. I felt a bit greasy and sluggish, but that may have been from the constant over casted weather. I was really going to have to get used to it. This was going to be my home for a long while. "Thanks."
Charlie nodded and seemed to relax a bit at my appropriate and thankful response. He surveyed the room again, his hands still on his hips. He then let out a huff, letting it become silent for a few moments before he spoke up.
"Okay then," he stated and slowly sauntered out of the room, my gaze following him until he disappeared out of sight.
I visibly relaxed myself and sat down on the bed.
That was one of the best things about Charlie.
He doesn't hover.
X X X
It was a little later on that day, after I had taken my shower and unpacked that I heard a car honk and a roaring engine come from out front. I went over to the window and looked out the window to see an old Chevy parked in our drive way. The truck looked pretty cool, though it looked old. I then heard the voices and saw Charlie talking to an older man in a wheel chair, with a tall, handsome, tan boy with long black hair standing beside him.
He looked a bit familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on where I might have met him. If I have met him before, I don't know how I could have forgotten.
The guy was pretty cute.
In a baby brother-ish type of way.
I made my way downstairs and out the front door, my hands shoved in the front pockets of my ripped and faded blue jeans. I had pulled my hair back in a ponytail to keep it out of my face, but a few stray strands were rebelling and refused to be pinned back in the black band restraint.
The conversation seemed to stop as I walked up and Charlie looked over at me, smiled faintly and pointed lazily to the man in the wheel chair as he casually leaned up against the old truck taking up almost our entire drive way.
"Beck, you remember Billy Black, right?"
I blinked in thought for a moment before it hit me and I nodded, giving a faint smile. "Oh, yeah," I spoke up and shuffled my feet a bit nervously against the pavement. "Wow, you're looking good." I commented sheepishly, earning a bright smile from the man as I lazily shook his hand.
I remembered Billy a bit from when I was little. When I saw him I always felt like I was seeing two people, rather than just one. I never got why, still don't to this day. The guy was nice enough though. If my memory served me right, I believe he lost his wife in a car accident when I was little.
That made my heart sink, I felt a bit sad now.
"Well, I'm still dancing." Billy joked, smiling giddily as he adjusted his body somewhat in the creaky wheelchair after I let go of his hand. "I'm glad you are finally here," he spoke back up after a moment and nodded his head towards my dad. "Charlie here hasn't shut up about you since you told him you were coming," he said rather cheekily, earning an eye roll from Charlie and a smile and chuckle from the boy standing beside him.
"All right, keep exaggerating. Ill roll you into the mud," my father said, voice seemingly tired, but still playful enough. I then saw Billy's grin widen, practically splitting his face in half as he swirled around to face my dad.
"After I ram you in the ankles," he said and began chasing Charlie around at the end of the driveway and a bit into the street. I was a bit concerned about their safety, but there seemed to be no incoming traffic, so I guess it was okay. I watched as my dad put up in fists in a mock fight way, urging Billy on as they zoomed around. It was a rather childlike scene, but great to watch none-the-less.
The boy that had been with Billy sauntered over to me, a broad smile on his face. He was taller than me, which was kind of upsetting. Every guy I met was usually a bit taller than me, even if it was by a millimeter. I am only around 5'8"—maybe 5'8" and a half—but this guy looked to be around 6 feet. Though he was taller, I couldn't really be angry at him with a friendly smile like that. Could I?
"Hi, I'm Jacob."
"Hey."
"We, uh, used to make mud pies when we were little," he offered, trying to see if I remembered.
Now I knew why he didn't seem foreign. I vaguely remember running around and fighting with him a lot when we were kids. He was the one that always wanted to boss me around, but I would never let him, which made him resort to a lot of things. No matter what he did back then though, I somehow couldn't stay mad at him for long.
I even remember his older sisters: Rebecca and Rachel. Every time Jacob would do something wrong I would run to them and they would spoil me and play with me. Though, most of the time I stuck with them they would dress me up in lace and frill. I was fairly feminine kid, still had the long hair and dark, chocolate eyes. I would often get mistaken for a girl and them putting me in dresses, skirts and bows, didn't really help that matter. I didn't mind it though, I actually kind of enjoyed it.
Doesn't make me sound like the straightest guy, does it?
Not that it really matters. My mom knew—my dad to—that I wasn't attracted to girls since I was young. If my enjoyment from wearing dresses back then was anything to go by. Plus, I came out to my mom when I was 14, and she told me she already knew. My dad found out from her and he didn't seem to mind, which was a relief.
I am marginally aware of my gay status, but I'm not one of those types to wave a rainbow flag and parade around singing. My gender preference is really on a need-to-know basis, so you'll know if I want you to, or you find out on your own. I am just thankful my mom and dad accepted me without question, not minding who I might be attracted to or love. While I did find girls to be pretty and sweet—and could admire their soft curves—I just couldn't imagine being with them.
At all.
It makes me shiver in horror at even the thought of it.
I can't really say what type of guy I like, because I'm not exactly sure of that myself.
"Yeah, right. I remember," I responded, a faint smile on my lips.
Jacob laughed softly and I watched him shove his hands into the pockets of his black sweater, seemingly a bit put off and nervous.
It went silent for a bit before I dared a glance over at where Billy and my dad were still goofing around in the empty street. Although, they were dialing it down a bit, seeming to get their childish antics out of their systems.
"Are they always like this?" I asked with a small, almost amused chuckle. I slouched a bit, relaxing my shoulders, trying not to be so tense and up-tight. Hopefully, I didn't put Jacob off with my awkwardness. I tended to do that around new people. Technically though, Jacob wasn't new, but still, the atmosphere was a bit groggy.
As I got more complaisant, Jacob seemed to breathe easier and he nodded, steeling a glance over at his father and Charlie. "It's getting worse with old age," he commented with an amused smirk. I couldn't help but chuckle at that as my dad and Billy made their way back over to us.
"Good," was all I could say in response before Billy and Charlie were in hearing range once more.
I watched as my old man ran his large hand over the rear end of the hulking and massive piece of metal taking up our driveway. He had a slightly smug grin on his lips, which made me feel a bit uneasy. I rarely saw him make that face. The question was, was this a good thing or bad?
"So, what do you think?"
"Of what?"
"Your homecoming present," he said and patted the red trunk, looking rather proud of himself.
My eyes grew wide and I blinked in shock.
It was a good thing.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, my vocal cords seeming to be failing me at this very important moment. I must have looked pretty amusing since I heard Jacob chuckle from his spot standing beside me.
He was giving me a car—no, truck?
Holy shit.
I didn't think he would actually buy me vehicle. It was a faded red color, with big rounded fenders and a bulbous cap. I absolutely loved it. I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged—the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had completely destroyed.
After a moment, I was finally able to speak.
"This?" I asked, unable to help myself from bringing my hands to the truck and running them over the cold and bulky metal. I was star-struck, to put it lightly. This had to be some sort of joke, but I was hoping—praying—that it wasn't.
Charlie nodded, smiling, seemingly pleased with the reaction he got out of me. My dad then motioned his head to Billy a bit and patted the truck lightly with his calloused hand. "Just bought it off of Billy here."
"Yep."
"I totally rebuilt the engine for you." Jacob chimed in after Billy, a smile plastered to his face, much like the one my dad now wore as I scampered my hands across the truck in awe.
I looked at Jacob with a large smile spread across my face. "Oh, come on," I said in disbelief and so badly wanted to hug the truck and my dad, though I resisted the latter for now. "Holy—Dad, this is perfect!" I exclaimed loudly and opened the rusty driver side door, it making a robust sound of protest as I did so. As I slid into the seat behind the wheel, Jacob went around to the passenger seat and climbed in. I burrowed myself into the worn, black leather seat and ran my hands over the slick, ivory wheel, getting a feel for my new baby.
"Told you he would love it." I heard Billy say triumphantly, his grin still expanded across his face, matching mine perfectly. "I'm down with the kids."
"Oh, yeah, dude," I heard my dad say incredulously, as he leaded against the side of my truck, rather arduously. He seemed a bit tired, but I could still see the faint, happy curve to his lips out of the side mirror. "You're the bomb."
Jacob was laughing as I practically bounced restlessly and frivolously up and down behind the wheel, making the car jiggle some with my rare stream of hyper-activeness.
"Okay, listen," he started, once I composed myself to some extent, "you gotta double-pump the clutch when you shift, but besides that, you should be good."
I nodded, sedated, but still smiling like a lunatic as I started up my new baby—I would have to give her a name—and listened to her roar to life. I was a rather grading, demonic and busting sounding and I found myself loving it more than before, even if it was probably very bad for the environment.
Mother Nature would just have to deal with my new beautiful monstrosity.
Maybe with my new baby, school tomorrow would be less of a Hell-on-earth situation.
Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and forty-seven—now forty-eight—students; there had been more than seven hundred people back home. All of the kids here had grown up together—their grandparents had been toddlers together.
I am dreading tomorrow, even with my monster truck to comfort me with its roaring.
I would be the new guy from the big city, a curiosity, maybe even a freak.
Even I had to admit that I was rather strange.
Maybe, if I looked like a guy from Phoenix should, I could use it to my advantage. But physically, I'd probably never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond—maybe a volleyball player or something—all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun.
Instead, sadly, I am rather ivory-skinned, without the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine I was accustomed to. My skin is also rather fair and soft—much like a woman's—and back home I would often get commented on it, much to my chagrin. I never had an ounce of hair on my face—or anywhere besides my groin, naturally—so I didn't have to shave, ever. My face is as smooth as a babies behind, which at first irritated me, but I soon got over it.
Even if I did have the facial hair, I would not be able to maintain it properly.
I had always been pretty skinny, but not too much to look unhealthy; I do have a bit of muscle, though it is obvious that I'm not much of an athlete. I don't have the hand-eye coordination to really play sports without humiliating myself—and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.
I'm kind of lying to myself, it wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. If I couldn't even find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?
I don't really feel like I relate to people that are my age. Maybe the truth was that I don't relate to people, period. Sometimes I wonder if I am seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world sees through theirs.
Maybe there is some kind of glitch in my brain.
But hey, I just really need to push through.
I don't know what this place may hold in store for me, so possibly anything could happen. I might come to like it here—though it probably would take some time.
But tomorrow would be just the beginning.
