A/N: If you haven't figured it out yet, I just reposted this. Sorry to all those who were reading this.

Anyways, to the new readers, enjoy!

Scarlett


It's not everyday you meet someone like this.

I was a 21-year-old NYU student on a trip around Europe for summer. He was a 24-year-old taking a vacation before he was to inherit his large family business. We were from different sides of America— me being from San Francisco and him coming from Chicago. Who would have known that we were meant to meet and have a talk more than once, let alone us being in love?

Nobody, of course. Not even me or him could guess that would happen.


"You done packing, sis?" My brother, Jazz smirked as he leaned against the door frame of my room.

I sighed then rolled my eyes at him. "Almost. Now get out." I threw my wooden hairbrush at his face but he caught it just in time.

He shook his head slowly in disapproval and chuckled. "That's not how you make your brother leave, Bells."

"Stop calling me Bells! God, don't call me that again." I groaned.

"There was only one person you allowed to call you that." He remarked and I stiffened up.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Only Rosalie gets to call me that. She's gone now, so..." I brought my fist near my face, biting on my long sleeve.

Jazz sighed and walked around my suitcase & backpack. He bent down and grabbed me into a hug. "Look, it's just us now— me, you, Renée & Dad. Dad's moved on, I've moved on... Renée's kinda moving on bit by bit but you... You're just clinging on to her." He whispered. "You've got to let her go."

"She's our sister, Jazz. I was much closer to her than you. That's different." I pushed him away.

"So if I died in a car accident like her—" I flinched "—you'll get over me quickly?"

"Jazz, you know it's not like that." I told him.

"Bella, I'm not the one who needs reassuring. You've been keeping it all in. Come on, let it out." He rubbed my back, but I pushed him away.

"No thank you." I replied. "You can go now."

He sighed, then placed my hairbrush into my small black backpack. "If you need me to follow, you know I will." He said, then left.

I knew that Jazz was worried about me. He always had been. He was just a year older than me with the same shade of blond hair Rosalie had. The three of us shared the same ice blue eyes, but Jazz & Rosalie also shared the same slightly tanned complexion. I was just an awkward, 5'7" pale-skinned blue-eyed girl with chestnut brown hair. Rosalie was a petite 5'4" frame, while Jazz was an athletic 6'1" guy. Rosalie & Jazz looked like twins despite their two-year gap. Rosalie was older than me by three years.

Jazz & I lost Rosalie to a car accident she was involved in during her spring break, where she went on a road trip with her friends. She died right on the spot due to the impact and I could still remember hearing the news.

I was in my junior year in high school, my report card being the perfect example of what an exemplary student was capable of. I came home to multiple of cars parked along the road in front of my mint-green average house. I frowned and opened the door.

Everyone stared at me with sympathy and sadness. I still couldn't understand what was happening. Black. They were all in black. Everyone I passed by said their condolences to me. I still couldn't understand.

I walked up the stairs to my room and found my black long-sleeved silk dress laid out on my bed, the creases ironed out. I picked it up and stared at it, trying to figure out what was happening. Soft raps on the door made my head snap up.

"Bella?" My mother Renée rasped as her head peeked into the room. Her brown eyes were bloodshot— in fact, they were redder compared to the morning I saw her the same day. Her red hair was in a neat French twist and I could see that her sleeves were black too.

"Renée?" I said.

"Please change," she said. "Change, then come down to pay your final respects." That was all she said before leaving me alone to change. I did as she said and when I went down, Jazz stood by the stairs, waiting for me. I shot him a confused look as I glanced down at the suit he only reserved for weddings and funerals.

"What's happening?" I asked him. He shook his head and quickly grabbed me, his hand on my arm as he gently pulled me to the common room. I yanked my arm from his grasp and glared at him. "Jazz, what is it?" I hissed.

He gave me a pained look. "Bella, please."

"Not until you tell me what's happening!" I snarled.

He shook his head.

"Jasper, I swear—"

"Rosalie's dead." He said in a clipped, cold tone. "Happy?"

My brain didn't seem to accept the words he said to me. I didn't respond but continued my path towards the common room. A polished black casket was laid in the middle, a formal picture of my sister in front of it. My father Charlie hugged my mother as she cried into his shoulder. My father looked at me and nodded. I walked slowly towards the casket, feeling numb. I stared down into it and emotionally, I felt nothing at all. I felt like morphine numbed my mind from whatever pain or sadness that was supposed to be there.

Even in death, Rosalie looked immaculate. Her blond hair was combed to perfection and lied down on her shoulders. Her slightly tanned skin was somehow finally pale. Her eyelids were painted with makeup and her cheeks were covered in blush. Her lips were a devilish red, just like she always loved wearing. I had to fight off a sarcastic laugh. Why pretend that she's alive when she's dead?

"Come on Bella," my mother sniffed as she laid a hand on my shoulder. "Say your last words to her."

I just stared down at Rosalie's lifeless body.

"Bella." My mother nudged.

"I hate you." I whispered so low Renée couldn't even hear. "I hate you so much, Rosalie. Being selfish is your specialty, isn't it? You're being selfish now. You're being selfish now just by lying in this dumb casket. I refuse to cry. I refuse to mourn over you. Great job on your awesome choice of how to leave us. Really."

I thought I saw Rosalie's lips twist up into a smile at my words.


"Come on now, Bella!" Renée knocked on the door repeatedly. "Your flight's in three hours' time!"

"I'm ready!" I said. I was wearing a pair of tight-fitting tapered white dress pants, a silk black mesh long-sleeved button-down tee and an ivory floral blazer with a scarf wound around my neck to match. Grey uggs covered my feet. I carried my black leather mini-backpack and dragged my suitcase by its handle out of the door.

"So, I don't need to follow you then?" Jazz said as he exited his room.

"No. You don't need to. I'm a grownup now. You don't always need to watch my back, you know." I told him.

"Okay. Fine. At least take this," he took my hand and placed a roll of hundred-dollar bills in it.

My jaw dropped. "I don't need this!" I shoved the roll at his hard chest. "I have a credit card for that."

"Look, there are some shops that don't allow payment by credit cards, okay?" He raised his hands to capture the roll.

"And that's why there is a thing called an ATM machine." I said. He laughed and we went down to enter the car.

Once we arrived at the airport in our old Chevy, Jazz pulled me to the terminal and hugged me tightly. "Don't talk to strangers. Keep your valuables close and read up on the scams conmen do to trick tourists. I don't want to see you in a cell."

"Wow. Okay. Love you too." I replied in a sarcastic tone.

"Cheese!" A flash blinded both of us, making Jazz let go of me. "Dammit, I forgot to turn off the flash..." My mother muttered as she pressed the buttons on the camera.

"Be careful, honey," Charlie said.

"Aw, Dad..." I grabbed him into a hug and he hugged me back.

"I don't want to lose you like Rosalie," he added in a soft tone. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." I let him go quickly after he mentioned her name and went on to hug and kiss my mother too. I waved goodbye at them before checking in. I had only an hour before the flight would leave and I should have boarded already, so I dashed to the plane.

The flight attendant standing by the entrance smiled politely at me and offered to take my bags. I gratefully accepted the offer. "Which class and seat?" She asked.

I checked my pass and my eyes widened. Must have been Jazz who upgraded my seat. "Uhm, business class. Seat G24?"

I followed behind the flight attendant and she raised her eyebrows. "You are lucky, indeed. You have the window seat." She said, then placed my suitcase into the storage space.

I took my seat and searched for my iPod in my mini-backpack, but found a familiar roll of bills. I groaned. "Jazz," I rolled my eyes. I shoved the money into the bag again and when I found my iPod, Lorde's The Love Club started playing on shuffle mode. I typed a quick text to Jazz:

You're dead to me.

His response was instant. I played the voice recording he sent me. "Well, if so, is there a monument of me on my grave?" He laughed.

I recorded myself, "No. There's a monument of my middle finger on your grave." I then sent it to him and he sent back a voice recording of his laughter. I rolled my eyes.

I didn't reply and kept my eyes casted down. I saw that the seat beside me was finally occupied by some guy who was wearing dark washed jeans and a polo tee. Must have been some rich dude beside me.

"Uhm, excuse me," a smooth velvet voice said.

My head snapped up and I was met face-to-face with a guy who must have modeled for Calvin Klein. I first noticed his sharp cheekbones, then his unkempt bronze brown hair. His eyes were a startling grayish-green, his nose was straight and his lips were soft and pink.

I snapped out of my daze fast. "What?" I said rudely.

"Do you mind if we switch seats?" He asked.

I scrutinized him. "Why?"

"Window seats kind of help me to calm down." he replied.

I rolled my eyes at him and stood up. He stood up too and sat down at my original seat. "Eager, aren't we?" I said out loud and for the first time, he smirked a devilish smirk at me. I stared at him for two seconds before sitting down on his seat. I plugged in to my earphones again and stared into space.

The flight attendant tapped me on the shoulder. "We're taking off. Please strap up." She kindly reminded then proceeded to do the same to the rest.

I complied and I glanced at the guy beside me. He was looking at me and I sighed. "Look, do I know you?"

He smiled. "Edward Anthony Cullen."

My jaw dropped and covered my mouth in shock. "Oh my god! Are you serious?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah."

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "Edward Cullen just switched seats with me! It's so nice to meet you!"

He grinned. "You've heard of me?"

I straightened my face and said in a monotone voice. "No."

I then picked up the remote of the mini-TV screen in front of me and browsed through the selection of movies the airplane provided. When I reached the end of the list of movies, I groaned. There was practically no interesting movies to watch. The airplane sucked.

"You don't have much friends, do you?" Edward asked.

"I prefer to keep it that way." I said.

"Why?"

I sighed out loud and requested for a pillow from the flight attendant passing by. She handed it to me in a minute and I lowered my seat. "Goodnight." I told him, ending the conversation.