As far as Kristen could tell her life wasn't her own.
It belonged to the fans. To Summit. To the media. To Michael.
She could not participate in typical young adult behavior. Every move was being watched and scrutinized. One bad decision and she could end up the next Lindsay Lohan.
But the limitations caused by her stardom were only the beginning of her problems.
From the moment she laid eyes on an Englishman by the name of Robert Pattinson, her grand plan for life went to shambles. He was an erratic, impulsive immature boy that didn't seem to take a damn thing serious. And she absolutely loved him.
*****
"What the hell do you mean the connection is just not there?! Explain to me how the fuck this so-called connection can just fade away after a relationship that has lasted and been through as much shit as ours." Michael screamed at Kristen, who was casually strumming her guitar with a cigarette hanging from her mouth.
Kristen shrugged, "Things just don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to force it. The whole reason people get into relationships is because of a strong connection they feel to the other person and they want to commit solely to that person. I just don't feel it anymore. This is not something I intended on happening and you should be aware of that. But I refuse to sit here and prolong the inevitable."
Apparently her detached attitude pushed Michael over the edge. He reached for the nearest object within reach, which happened to be a ceramic ashtray and threw it across the room, shattering a glass mirror in his living room.
Kristen looked up with a blank stare and ashed her cigarette on his carpet.
"Listen Kristen, if you feel like what we shared is gone then you need to get the fuck out of my place and take all your shit with you. This time when you start falling, I will not catch you, no matter how far the drop is. I don't want any drunken phone calls. No late night stops by my place. Not one phone call to just check in and see how things are going, as you bitches seem to feel necessary to do after a break up. Since what we had together is gone then I want you gone. Completely."
Kristen stared at Michael for several moments, utterly stunned by his behavior. Thinking about the irreplaceable history they shared together and the thought of him becoming a stranger made her want to crumble on the floor and beg him to hold her in his arms.
Kristen wanted the relationship with Michael to prosper and at one point she was fully committed to spending her life with him.
But need comes before want.
She needed Robert Pattinson.
***
"There really is nothing to be concerned about. I assure you that I'm doing well. I'm aware that I haven't sounded quite like myself lately but it will be fine. Just takes a bit of adjusting from what I'm use to and of course I miss you, Mum. As well as the rest of the family. But please do not worry about me, if I need anything you are the first person I go to. I love you."
There was nothing in this world Robert Pattinson hated more than lying to his mother. Truthfully, he was a complete wreck and terribly homesick. His absence from his family was increasing but he could hardly tolerate speaking with his parents or sisters. After each phone call he was left with a feeling that went beyond loneliness. Due to his close bond with his family, this caused extreme guilt for not maintaining regular contact. Either way he felt horrid.
The only antidote was the forbidden fruit. His costar Kristen Stewart, whom he had grown rather fond of during the filming of Twilight. The times they spent together made him feel comfortable in his own skin. He could be himself, for better or worse and didn't worry about judgment from her.
But Kristen was another aspect of his life that caused stressed and discomfort. He appreciated her friendship and loyalty unfortunately he desperately wanted more from her. And of course she was unavailable and didn't display any form of mutual feelings towards him.
Most nights he would go out with a few buddies he had obtained while living in LA. Those nights consisted of beer, lots of beer, and girls, lots of girls. Both would occasionally provide relief for a few hours or sometimes even an entire evening. That was few and far between though.
On this particular night, Rob decided to stay home and wallow in self pity. He bought a twelve pack of Heineken, twenty dollars worth of weed and shut his phone off. Tonight he would self medicate. Alone.
****
Minutes before Kristen finished the tedious task of gathering her belongings from Michael's house, she heard a loud slam which caused the room she was in to shake.
Well I suppose that is how he says goodbye. So what the hell am I going to do now?
Not wanting to deal with explaining to her family the disaster which had occurred, Kristen drove aimlessly around Los Angeles, blasting Van Morrison. She finally found the courage, after over an hour, to drive to the place she desperately wanted to go.
What am I doing here? Rob has a million beautiful girls bending over backwards for him. He's not interested in my sob story. And I'm nowhere near being ready to start explaining that to him.
So she drove to the only bar in town she knew would serve her. Her father had grown up with the owner/head bartender and he would most certainly provide her the relief she needed.
The bar was the opposite of Hollywood glamour. The last place anyone would suspect Kristen Stewart partying at. Alone.
"Hello Darlin'! You're prettier each time I see you, where's your old man at? Anything I can get you?" Steve, the bartender, who seemed as though he peeked in the mid 70s, asked Kristen with a warm smile.
Yes! Just what I thought…Steve wouldn't even think of asking for my ID…this night is actually looking up.
***
An alarmed Rob hurried to the cab he had called in order to locate a very intoxicated and upset Kristen Stewart. He had relented and decided to check his voicemail. To his dismay he found numerous messages from a man by the name of Steve informing him that Kristen was half demanding and half crying because she needed someone to call a 'Rob'.
Once inside the bar, Rob stopped cold. Kristen was at the side of the bar, tears running down her face and begging Steve to get Rob. He had never once seen the normally poised, yet awkward Kristen in his condition. Unsure of how to handle himself, considering the beer buzz he had himself, he decided to be calm and casual.
Kristen caught sight of Rob walking near her and burst into tears again. The third time in a half hour. She threw herself into his arms and pleaded with him to take her anywhere. Caught completely off guard and a bit frightened, Rob threw all the money in his wallet at Steve and grabbed Kristen by the waist to escort her out the door.
Kristen, still in tears, threw her keys at Rob and ordered him to drive her to his house. Hesitantly, Rob entered her vehicle; nervous because he was a lousy driver and this was the unavailable woman he desired more than anyone, completely wasted begging to go home with him. As always he was torn.
As they entered Rob's apartment, he suddenly felt highly self conscious due to the clutter and random junk spread about his apartment. He frantically attempted to clean the place up or at least make it somewhat presentable.
Oh Great. Now she's going to think I truly do live similar to a pig, with the rumors of not bathing and this mess of an apartment.
In the midst of his mild meltdown, he discovered Kristen was no where in sight. He searched the entire apartment, even looking outside in case she realized where she was and needed to make a fast escape.
He still was unable to locate her but eventually thought of the bathroom which was connected to his bedroom. The door was closed but he could see the light on underneath the door and faint sounds of moaning.
He pushed the door open to find a weak and fragile Kristen curled up on his tile floor, shivering and quietly moaning as if she was in pain. Her eyes quickly opened when she heard the door.
"What's the matter? Would you like some water? Maybe a warm towel for your forehead? I could start the shower if you would like."
Dammit now she's going to think I meant a shower for both of us. Now she's stuck in this disgusting apartment with a creep trying to take advantage of her. This is just great. Get it together, Rob.
"Sorry, I meant a shower for you to help you feel better. I wouldn't join you. Umm I think I'll just give you some privacy. I'm sorry you don't feel well, Kristen. Please yell for me if you need anything at all."
Kristen abruptly reached for him with panic in her eyes.
"No! No! Don't leave me. It's not from the alcohol. Please Rob. I n-need you."
Rob moved to pick Kristen up and take her to his bed but she recoiled from him, as if she was an injured puppy and he was the abusive owner. He fled back to his original spot against the bathroom door and scowled at her, becoming agitated by the mixed messages he was being sent. Despite Kristen pleading with Rob to stay with her, he turned around, slammed the bathroom door and stomped into his living room.
Fuck! She needs to leave. NOW. I'm calling that son of a bitch Steve first thing tomorrow for interrupting my night to pick her pathetic ass up.
***
As Kristen cracked open her eyes, she discovered that she didn't have the slightest clue as to her whereabouts. She was sprawled out on a cold, blue tile floor in a bathroom. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.
Oh My God! Rob…where is Rob?!
She dragged herself off the floor, steadying herself with the side of the toilet and made the awful decision to look in the mirror. She quickly pulled her short hair back and scrubbed rapidly at the black eyeliner which had streaked down her face. She surrendered after several minutes, aware that her looks should not be the main concern.
As she made her way through Rob's bedroom, she noticed a row of framed pictures. All of the pictures contained images of his parents, sisters and his much beloved dog. She felt a tug in her chest while viewing the pictures because she knew how much his family meant to him and how badly he missed them. The bedroom itself looked like the result of a destructive tornado, except his bed was perfectly made. The mental picture of Rob making a bed made her chuckle.
She continued down the hall into the living, walking carefully when she saw Rob sleeping on the couch. He was sitting upright with his head leaning against the back of the couch and his feet propped up on the coffee table. It was still rather early, about 9:00pm so she was surprised to find him asleep, although it was a relief. She now had time to form a speech explaining her humiliating behavior.
Kristen plopped onto the couch and helped herself to one of Rob's cigarettes. He began to stir next her and Kristen completely stilled. She felt eyes on her so she slowly turned her head to meet a pair of blue eyes piercing through her. They sat there just starring for awhile, neither sure of what to say or do.
"Rob…I...umm...I think…well I'm sorry."
For a moment it felt as though her brain had lost all contact with her mouth.
"I broke up with Michael because I'm in love with you. You bring out a side of me I didn't know existed, it sounds extremely cliché but that is exactly my point, I am not the type of person to say things like that but around you I can't stop myself. I know you don't feel the same, its okay and I most certainly do not expect anything from you because I know you have other bitc…I mean girls in your life. But I wanted you to know that because there was no possible way I could hold it in any longer. I'm sorry."
Her brilliant speech had turned into a string of breathless, jumbled words and rapidly became one of the worst, most awkward moments of her life.
Rob continued to stare in her direction, but not directly at her. He took the cigarette from her trembling hand, pressed it to his lips and took a long drag. Once the cigarette was put out in the ashtray, his eyes met Kristen's again. He saw the tears sliding down her face and the tragic look on her beautiful face. All he wanted was to hold her, wrap his arms around her and never let go. But he couldn't. He didn't know why but he was physically unable to move.
"Want to smoke? I just got some weed. Heard it was pretty good."
"I spill my heart to you and you respond by asking if I would like to get high?" Kristen couldn't believe this was happening.
As he rolled a joint he answered her question quietly, "Yeah, I suppose so. I mean if you aren't up for it, that's fine."
"Fine. But it better be good weed."