Author's Note: I know there are a few of these type stories floating around, but one day when I was bored, I started to write down every girl's fantasy. Soon enough, a thousand words blew up into a monumental fic. I have so much planned for this, and it's nothing like I've read before. Read it, drop a review to tell me what you think of it, and most of all, enjoy it! Edward might be written a little out of character because this was written for me to have fun with. A lot of this is pretty much autobiographical, besides the obvious.

Additionally, this is really short because it's basically a background chapter. It gets better, I swear.

Disclaimer: I only own Danny, who I imagine to be a cuter version of me :) Just kidding.

"'Yes, it is enough," he answered. 'Enough for forever.'

And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my warm throat."

I sighed, closing the book I'd closed about a hundred times already. What? I couldn't help that Twilight had become my new go-to book.

It was just, I hardly ever got tired of it. It was odd, too–I had read many of the classics and loved them–Gone With the Wind, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Pride & Prejudice–but yet I was obsessed with Twilight, the book every teenage girl had fallen in love with. Suddenly, one of the things that had set me apart from everyone else was the same thing I now shared with them.

It was kind of like my insane addiction to Harry Potter–except that had a larger fan base, more than just love stricken teenage girls. Also, it didn't have an incredibly gorgeous vampire with a substantial amount of sex appeal.

It was such a great story. Bella really did give hope to clumsy, sarcastic girls–not unlike myself, might I add.

Still, it was a book, and at some point, this infatuation would have to end. I would, of course, just like it did with Harry Potter. Maybe that was because that series already ended…

I pondered this. Maybe the release of Breaking Dawn would let me stop obsessing over Edward and Emmett and Jasper and even Jacob Black. But was I so sure I wanted to?

I began to throw some clothes in the washer. I liked New Moon and I loved Eclipse, but keep in mind, I'm a reader and the readers know that the original is almost always the best of the series, which was probably why I always carried Twilight with me.

I turned the dial and leaned against the machine as it filled with water. As an aspiring writer, I thought Stephenie Meyer's romantic adventure approach was probably key to young adult fiction success.

I sighed again and walked into the kitchen. Being by yourself at age 16 was usually pretty nice, but I couldn't help but feel the slightest bit lonely around dinner time when I made my own meals.

All in all, I didn't really mind. My mother and father were going through a divorce (and had been for the past three years). It was comforting when the bickering and tension disappeared.

My mother worked six days a week, leaving at about six in the morning and getting home a little past eight, if not later. She had a corporate job, and often times it meant she had to take clients out to breakfast or dinner.

My father owned his own company and often I would only see him about once a week at random times. I knew secretly that while a lot of the time was away was for business, more often than not he was away for pleasure.



And I had an older brother, but he was 21, in his junior year of college, and I very rarely saw him. Only on those random Friday nights where he'd crash in his old bed and we'd go out to breakfast the next morning.

But it was July now, and he was interning at some place in New York, so his Friday night visits were even rarer.

Being 16, I had a job and a car, but I worked only an average of 12 hours a week and hardly used my car, seeing as we lived in the city.

I glanced at the stove clock. 6:14. Now would be a good time to cook up some dinner. As I poured penne pasta into a pot of boiling water, I let my thoughts wander to many different things, including the book I'd most recently reread.

I sat down with my dinner and leafed through my favorite parts of Twilight. At 7, I settled on the couch with a bowl of ice cream to watch teen jeopardy. God, I thought. I act like a 70-year old when I'm alone.

Soon enough, it grew extremely dark, and I started to get a bit drowsy. I could feel my eyes drop down into slumber. Suddenly, I heard the slightest noise coming from the kitchen. I shot up and my eyes searched through the darkness to try and see someone. "Timmy?" I called tentatively, hoping that my dog was making the noise.

I strained my eyes, frozen in fear. All I could see were two golden eyes, looking back at me.

In a second, he was in front of me, and I was literally too scared to talk–something, might I add, that didn't happen often. I took in his pale skin and copper colored hair quickly. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice velvety and beautiful.

"Philly," I blurted out. "What are you doing in my house?"

He didn't answer. His gaze zeroed in on my book, which was lying lazily on the arm of the couch, and then returned his gaze to me. I stared back into his now black eyes that I knew were golden just a few seconds ago, and I suddenly realized who he was.