Disclaimer: I'm sorry to say I do not own Twilight, its plot, characters, or complete awesomeness. No, those rightfully belong to Stephenie Meyer, a true master (or should I say...mistress) of literature. Other people who I believe deserve this title are Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Mr. William Shakespeare, and last but not least Mr. Tsugumi Ohba. Any excerpts, quotes, character names, plots or anything else from Twilight in this fic ARE NOT MINE! I don't own any songs, celebrities, brand names, or any other media, either. I own my own characters, my own plot, and several pairs of shoes. Kay, peace out, Tigger! On with the fic!

::peace::love::music::

Dim the lights, close the doors, and call for places. Wait for those last few teenagers to turn off their cell phones before the show begins. Pull up the curtain and cue a dim light on a street corner, where our story starts. It's Halloween night in Manhattan, New York and the year is nineteen ninety one. This street corner was abandoned...until now.

Cue a young girl; slightly awkward, not very good at blending in, but beautiful in her own way. She wore a party dress and a content smile, so one would assume she was going somewhere special. Fresh into her senior year of high school, she probably aged around seventeen or eighteen. Her dirty blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail on one side of her head and her dull, blue-gray eyes hidden behind pink sunglasses to block out the bright nocturnal lights of the city nearby. Nothing had changed much for this girl with the transition from one decade to the other; she still had her large circle of friends and her own unique sense of style. She wasn't exactly miss popularity, but she got invited to her share of events. This Halloween night, for instance, she was headed to a party thrown by the most popular girl in her high school, who the girl herself wasn't exactly fond of, but her friends would be there.

She checked her watch to see that it was eight-fifty, only ten minutes until the time she told her friends she would meet them. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the traffic and decided that driving was out of the question. She took a deep breath and headed left down the busy Manhattan street, telling herself that as long as she stayed on the main roads, everything would be fine. Born and raised a New Yorker, she knew that signs of uncomfort on the outside would make her more vulnerable to...well, to those looking for the vulnerable type. So she did her best to keep her face and body movements confident, despite her paranoid gut telling her to just stay home or to call a friend for a ride.

About four or five blocks down the street, she looked down an old alley that she had been down many times during the day, but never at night. She could see the street on which her destination was just by looking down the alley, and knew that if she stayed on the streets it would take her at least another fifteen minutes. She knew that it was the most clichéd bad idea in the book, but she had been down this alley with her friends so many times that it was stupid to think that anything bad would happen. And yet that sinking feeling still came, telling her it would be better off if she was late for her party. With that terrible feeling still wedged into the pit of her stomach, she turned into the alley and walked as quickly as she could. To ease her own fear, she began to loudly hum her favorite song, The Angel Song by Great White. Above her humming, she heard something rustle a big pile of cardboard boxes and she froze in fear, staring at it.

"Wh-who's there?" she managed to croak out. The rustler stood up and turned in surprise. It was a man about her age, maybe a little older. He was very good looking, it was almost stunning.

"Oh, my God. You scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing down here this late at night?" he asked in a velvet voice.

"I could ask the same of you." the girl retorted. The man laughed.

"I'm on my way to a party and this is just the quickest way. I know...alleys. Gross, right?" he said.

"N-no. I'm on my way to a party, too. You going to the one down on the corner of 36th and C?" she asked.

"Yeah." the man grinned.

"What are you doing, going through the trash?" the girl asked.

"I dropped my wallet. What's your name?" he asked.

"Sophia Evanson."

"I'm Peter." the man said. "I think I know you from somewhere...I think I've seen you at school."

"You probably have. I don't exactly blend in." Sophia said with a weak smile. "Hey, do you think we should get going? We're gonna be late. You know...for the party?"

"Hold on." Peter said in a voice barely over a whisper. "I'm sorry...you're just so pretty. You probably aren't single, though." he said with a chuckle.

"N-no. I am." Sophia said, her voice cracking.

"Really?" Peter said thoughtfully. "Maybe...you and I could get together sometime. For...coffee, or something."

"This isn't happening." Sophia murmured. Peter took a few steps closer, but she didn't notice.

"What? Don't tell me you've never been asked out before. I would have thought a gorgeous girl like you would have to pick guys like me off every day." he said, but she didn't reply. "No? Well, I guess this is my lucky day." They were merely inches apart, now, and Sophia noticed.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she murmured. Now that he was this close, she could see clearly that his eyes were blacker than night.

"Why are you going to that party, anyway?" he asked, ignoring her. His lips were barely an inch from her ear.

"I'm meeting friends there, and I really think we should get going. We're already late." she whispered.

"I'm not going to a party." he whispered even lower than she did. "And neither are you. You aren't going anywhere."

"Hey, get away from me! I've got to go to..." Sophia started as she tried to pull away, but he was stronger.

"You aren't going anywhere." he repeated. He pulled her closer to him, and she gasped as his marble hard body was crushed against hers. He loosened his grip on her, just enough to stop the pain. Sophia was too scared to do anything, even scream. She stopped struggling to get free and the tears came. She had never felt so weak as she did now, with this stranger's arms wrapped around her.

"Please..." she begged. "Please, don't kill me."

"I'm going to try my hardest not to." he murmured.

"You're lying." she growled through tears.

"Please, believe me." now Peter was the one begging. "I'm just following orders. I really am truly sorry. I like you, Sophia. I like you a lot, and I hope with every fiber of my being that you get through this alive."

"Get through what alive?" Sophia asked, quieter than ever.

"I'm sorry." he repeated once more, and then he lowered his lips to her throat. She screamed at the top of her lungs as his teeth sank into the pulse in her neck. She didn't think it was possible, but only one word came to mind.

Vampire. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and, though her mouth was wide, no sound came out anymore. Peter's lips were still wrapped around her throat, his thirst almost quenched. He knew that if she was to live, he had to detach from her at once. His venom was now running through her veins in place of the lost blood, and he hoped that she would survive. Most of his other victims seemed so eager to have his lips to their throats, being at the peak of their hormone-crazed, rebellious teenage years. He hadn't given them a second thought, and none of them survived. This is what made him James' least useful companion, but he had nowhere else to go.

James was the one who changed him, and he had been a part of his coven ever since. To say the least, James thought of Peter as a useless vampire and often pondered the thought of just snapping his neck and getting him out of his hair. But Peter had convinced him to have this one last Halloween night to prove his skills and to earn his keep. He saw Sophia in the ally and saw her as his perfect opportunity; just another ditzy teenage girl whose life was practically over anyway. But then she spoke, and he saw that his original analysis of this girl no longer applied. He wasn't used to actually having his victims interested in him as a person, but only his godlike physical appearance. He knew, even after she had emotionally begun to grow on him, that he couldn't let her go.

He regretfully pulled away from her throat and looked at her face, seeing that she was soaked with sweat and that her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Not thinking too much about what he'd done, he picked up her almost dead body in his arms and started off at breakneck speed towards what he hoped was Canada, so fast that he wasn't visible to the human eye. He would take her to James, and hopefully she would survive. She wasn't dead yet, but close to. If she survived, he knew this would be one Halloween night he would never forget.

::peace::love::music::