DISCLAIMER: What? Me own Twilight? Well, actually the last time I looked on the cover it said 'Stephenie Meyer' so I think you know I don't own this.

WARNING: This is not a story for any member of Team Jacob right from the off. You can read it but if you don't like the way he comes across then don't complain because I have warned you…

Fighting Fate

Chapter 1- The First Smile

Bella POV

I can still remember the first time I saw him.

It had been a Monday morning and I was hurrying, late for work as usual, my ballet flats hitting the ever-wet concrete at an alarmingly fast pace for me. I was carrying the regular stack of classic fictional books I borrowed over the weekend, my nose buried in one (Sense and Sensibility), also normal for me. I even remember what I was wearing: my favourite pair of blue skinny jeans; my pair of silver ballet flats that probably didn't go well with the jeans at all, but since when had I cared?; and a new, long-sleeved, green cotton top with darker green flowers on it. All of my clothes, without exception, were designer brands. I didn't know designer brand from supermarket smart price, but apparently it mattered. Though fashion meant impossibly little to me, it had gotten me my best friend. But that's a different story.

Due to my ignorance of the world around me as I read, I collided into a tall man wearing a posh suit and promptly dropped my stack of books.

"Oi!" he yelled at me, fussing over his impeccable suit. "Watch where you're going!" And then he walked off.

I bent down to pick up my books and gathered them in my arms, inspecting them for – thankfully – non-existent damage closely, before looking back up.

It was then that I saw him. His stunning eyes were the first thing that caught me, sparkling, green and gorgeous; full of depth and feeling. I blinked, eager to see more of this man that must surely be my soul-mate (despite my boyfriend of four months), but then my heart sank. He was sat in a doorway, his chin on his knees. He was stunning from the first lock of dazzling bronze hair right down to his shabby shoes. But he was homeless, dirty, a tramp. He was bad. One of the many bad people that made the world a bad place. And, as Charlie said, bad people should be treated like the dirty twits they are… well, he was slightly more graphic than that.

Suddenly, one side of his mouth turned up at me in an adorable crooked grin. I looked over my shoulder, wondering if he was grinning for someone else, but there was no one else around. I couldn't stop myself from smiling back at him, and that made his grin wider. I stood there for a minute, watching him watch me, before remembering that Mrs Davey would be waiting for me. I gave him a shy little wave and continued my hurried walk to work, trying to ignore the electricity flooding through my veins.

That was the first time I had seen him. As far as I could remember, he had never been sat there before, but now he was every day. Every morning on my way to work and every afternoon on the way home I smiled at him, only to be rewarded with his crooked smile. This bizarre routine had been going on for the last six months and I had taken to tapping my foot against the wooden floor of the 'Red Bookstore', counting down the seconds until I could leave, just so I could see his face. Mrs Davey had also noticed the change, and often let me go early, telling me fondly that I looked like 'an impatient little lamb'.

We saw each other every day, the homeless man and I, but we had never spoken; no fear. I was too scared of the consequences that Charlie would surely make sure happened if I spoke to someone that far below me. But I often found myself imagining the conversations we would have. I knew that this was probably a mistake, obsessing over him so much, but I couldn't stop myself. From the instant I started imagining the things we'd say to each other, I had made him perfect; too perfect. He liked the same music as me and the same literature as me, and he'd get on fantastically with my friends. It wasn't long before he was an incredible kisser, possessively crushing his lips to mine and telling me that I was his.

I was having one of these stupid daydreams now, in my happy place, thinking dreamily about the curve of his lips against my own, his tongue dancing along my too-full bottom lip, curing it of all of the chap marks, making my knees melt…

"Bella, hold still!" Alice snapped, bringing me back to the present as she accidentally (at least, I think it was accidental) prodded my hip with a pin.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, reaching to rub my side.

"Sorry," she said, but she sounded a little smug to me. "You have to stop daydreaming and concentrate or I'll have to stab you a little more often." Okay, it was totally non-accidental.

"Bella, you look beautiful!" Rosalie squealed excitably, clapping her hands together.

I sighed and looked grudgingly at the body-length mirror. Instead of being joyously happy at the sight of me in a long white dress, poofy skirts floating out around me, flowery patterns weaving up the bodice of the dress that hugged my figure perfectly, I was… completely indifferent towards my reflection. I also felt a little guilty. Here I was trying on my wedding dress, thinking of a guy that was the total opposite to the man I was going to marry in just two months.

"Are we nearly done, Alice?" I asked in a bored voice.

Alice stared at me, shocked. "How can you say that Bella? You're trying on your wedding dress! Not in school assembly."

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "I was bouncing off the walls when I tried on my wedding dress."

"That's different," I pointed out. "You got to choose your husband. You love him."

"And you love Jacob, don't you?" Alice jabbed another pin in the dress, this time missing my skin.

I thought about that for a second. Did I love Jacob? My heart answered that immediately with a resounding no. I mulled it over in my head for a while, before my mind came to the same conclusion as my heart. Jacob had been a family friend for years (though he had recently told me that right from the moment we met, he had always intended to be more than friends) and when we got together it was kind of… spontaneous. I would never have even considered dating him if he hadn't practically assaulted me on my car bonnet…

Charlie had been talking about me getting together with Jacob for a very long time, telling me that we'd be the perfect match but I had always scoffed at that. Then, one night, I had gone out for the usual night with Ali and Rose trying to get me a boyfriend because I had been single for far too long, and my truck had broken down. I was convinced that it wouldn't be able to be fixed because it was really old and no mechanic around would get this back on the road without recommending a new car that Charlie would, no doubt, pay for quick as a wink. But I didn't want a new car. I loved my truck despite its tragically low maximum speed and sixties design—mostly because it had been a gift from my mother.

I had dithered, wondering what to do; I didn't want to call Charlie and just get 'I told you so, Isabella. You should have got that flashy Volvo when you had the opportunity' and I didn't want to call a mechanic because it would just be a longer, and undoubtedly, more expensive route to the first option. Then Jacob had pulled up and got out of his car asking what was wrong. I didn't question how Jake knew where to find me, or why he had his tools with him, I just thanked the lucky stars that I might not be too late for Rose and Alice.

He had it fixed in seconds and I had thanked him furtively, promising him anything in exchange. He had said that there was only one thing he wanted… and then he kissed me, pinning me back against the bonnet of my truck. I hadn't been expecting it and I hadn't really liked it, but something deep inside me snapped and I just enjoyed it, kissing him back. I didn't know whether it was the lack of contact from the other gender since Mike Newton and I had ended almost a year before, or just that I had no other choice, but I still kissed him back and, from then on, we were an item.

Six months later, I had come in from work to find Charlie standing, staring out of the window. I knew instantly that something was wrong and asked him what. He told me that Jacob had been round asking for my hand in marriage… and that he wanted me to say yes. I refused at first, but Charlie had thrown a hissy fit, telling me that I was ungrateful; that Jacob would be able, and willing, to caper for my every whim and he'd be the perfect father to any children I'd have in the future. He couldn't think of anyone he'd like to have as a son-in-law more. His glare scared me into agreeing, though privately, the idea made me gag.

I think Jacob sensed my insecurity and had the nerve to propose to me in front of my father and his own. Charlie stared me down until I said the word. One word that tied me to Jacob for the rest of my life. One word that I had been forced to say. One word that I regretted most.

I knew that if Renee had still been alive, I could marry a homeless tramp if I wanted to. She had stood by my decisions, she had supported me my whole life long. Charlie hadn't been there for me until she died when I was seventeen. And then when he took me in, he was forever saying bad things about Renee. I stuck up for her at first, telling him that she had always supported me in a way he never had, but he only said that she had been stupid in doing so and that was why she had ended up slaving away to get enough money whereas he and the next three generations of his family would never have to work and would still be millionaires. He hadn't even done anything for the money. His great-great grandfather had done something (I didn't know what) that royalties were still made off of. He offered me all of the money I wanted, but I didn't want any of his charity.

He had told me that I didn't have to work, but I had wanted to. I didn't want to sit around at home, drinking expensive champagne and watching daytime TV like he did. It was of my own accord that I went to the 'Red Bookstore' every weekday and a few Saturdays as well; I wanted to go. Pay wasn't good, but money had never been something that mattered to me, especially not now Charlie practically begged me to take it.

I sighed and looked into Alice and Rose's questioning faces. Right, they had asked me a question.

"A little," I lied. I didn't even love Jacob a little bit. I thought of how he kissed me roughly and felt me up, though I had insisted again and again that I didn't want to go there. He had presumed that I didn't believe in sex before marriage and I didn't tell him that it was because I didn't particularly want to go there with him. I guess that was something I wouldn't be able to put off on our wedding night… sigh.

"Are we done now?" I asked again, and Alice rolled her eyes.

"I know you don't like wearing skirts or dresses, Bella, but this will be the best day of your life so surely you can make an exception?" she said.

I didn't reply; she had guessed at the reasoning behind my impatience wrong and I wasn't about to tell her that I wanted to leave my dress fitting to go and smile at a tramp. But still… he would be wondering where I was…

"We can call it a day for now," Alice said eventually. "Jacob's eyes are going to pop out of his head when he sees you though, Bells." Alice and Rose's expressions both turned sour when she mentioned Jake's name. That was natural for them, though. They hated Jacob with a passion. Mind you, it was a mutual hate.

I paid it no attention, all too eager to struggle out of the ridiculous dress and shove thoughts of big white weddings to the back of my mind, instead thinking, again, about my secret obsession and his incredible emerald eyes…

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So… what did you think?

First of all, I know that this is REALLY short, but it is quite a lot of words and it's more of a prologue-y introduction than a full-blown long chapter. That is also why it's not the most interesting chapter in the world. I promise it will get so much better.

Also, Charlie is (and will continue to be) insanely OOC, as will Jacob… depending on your opinion. I already think he's a disgusting pervert so… yeah. But I know some of you think he's a decent guy so you can think of him as OOC if you want.

Well, I'm not entirely sure whether to continue this so it would be great if you'd leave a little bit of feedback telling me what you thought of the first chapter… a smiley (or frowny) face is fine if you don't want to write anything :D

Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW!

Steph