((Disclaimer: I disclaim.

Author's Note: Here I present a new fan fiction! I just couldn't get this idea out of my head… I'm not sure how long this will be, it's still in the forming phase. Yet I absolutely love music and piano, and I really wanted to incorporate that in a story with Edward and Bella. I loved how Stephenie Meyer wrote Edward's music, it was beautiful!))

Midnight Symphonies

Chapter One:

Interruption

I shuffled my received English paper into my organized file compartment as the class rose from their seats nosily and herded towards the exit doors. My thoughts were elsewhere, wondering why my teacher had made a specific comment on one of my statements. He seemed hesitant in his compliment—as if there was something else he wanted to say but refrained from it at the last second. Yet today I wasn't in the mood to discuss my paper with the professor.

I pushed back some of my long, brunette hair behind my ears as I gathered my books and adjusted my jacket better before heading towards the exit. Luckily, today, I was able to get a front row seat therefore saving me from the steps. Even one step proved treacherous most days, and I avoided them like the plague.

Yet before I could properly sling my purse onto my shoulder and balance my numerous books, my big toe caught in a snag in the carpet and everything in my hands leapt onto the floor in front of me. Thankfully it was just my belongings and not I that tumbled to the floor. I didn't think I could take any more embarrassment for the week.

"Are you alright, Bella?" The professor's snipe voice came from the front of the class, the sounds of his grunting as he swiped at the chalkboard to erase his chicken scratch.

"Fine, thanks," I muttered, hoping that he heard me as I quickly gathered my things, a second time, and scurried out the door. I was met by harsh coldness—the wind nipping at my face with unrelenting fervor as the fall was settling into winter. I was used to the cold by now.

"Hey, Bella!" A man's voice came from behind me. I instantly knew who it was, and felt relief wash through me completely.

"Emmett," I smiled, letting my overly sized brother catch up to me. He was wearing his ridiculous grin on his face, the one I've known and loved for years. Even in this sea of change and confusion, I felt grounded and a sense of familiarity was always there when I was around Emmett. It was like bringing my own little portion of home with me.

"Took you long enough, I've been waiting for you for ten minutes," Emmett's loud voice laughed slightly, making his serious tone plain sarcasm.

"Sorry, I—fell." I hesitated; not because I wasn't accustomed to saying that, it was just I didn't feel it was an excuse anymore. It was more like apart of who I was instead of an accident. My fellow students learned that quickly, and avoided of being too close to me whenever a flat surface was even remotely inclined.

"Story of your life," Emmett joked, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. I couldn't help but smile up at him, his happiness was a disease—a chronic, spreadable sickness. He was my sun.

"If this is my story I want to file a complaint to the editors," I laughed, the both of us walking through the outside commons area in a bundle.

"Ha-ha, well if you do can you ask them to give us some warm weather? I miss it!" Emmett boomed, guffawing when I jumped a foot in the air from his loudness. You'd think I was used to him yet my morning had been reasonably quiet without him it in.

"Will you ever learn?" I asked him, berating, and my blush unmistakable.

"Sorry," He managed to say through his laughter. Other students were staring at us openly, like it was some sort of show. Of course my brother would appear to be the comedian.

"So, you still are coming over after class?" I tried to change the subject, staring at the ground to avoid the eyes of anyone around. I was already a social disaster, I didn't need to have it proved in front of me by the way people looked at me like a was a freak.

When Emmett didn't answer, I looked up at him to see why he hadn't. He was looking sheepishly in the other direction, biting his lip nervously. I became weary in an instant.

"Oh no Emmett, don't tell me you forgot again?" I asked, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. Ever since we moved here, Emmett was very quick to make friends. He used to come over to my dorm and hang out with me all the time, yet lately he started to make other plans… ones that seem to conflict with his time with me.

"I didn't forget Bells, I promise. But—"

"Please, I don't want to hear your excuses, its fine. You have a life, Em, there's nothing to be sorry for," I quickly interrupted. If he tried to tell me an excuse, I wouldn't be able to ignore the pity—the one thing that I didn't want from anyone. Pity only proved how much of a lame freak I was. How on earth I got Emmett as a brother was beyond me…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Emmett was apologizing? I laughed humorlessly.

"Please, don't worry about me. I'll just be in the music room," I said, putting a light tone in my voice to assure him. "I have the feeling that I'll be there for awhile."

Emmett searched my face for something, and visibly relaxed as he absorbed my small smile.

"A new song?" He asked, and I could tell he was trying to probe for anything to change the subject. He wasn't one for stress.

"I think so. I've got the feeling," I replied honestly. I could feel something deep within me stirring, the first sign of my musical inspiration. I always played my best when I got this feeling. The tone of my songs usually depends on my mood. I could tell this new piece would most likely be loneliness.

"Call me," I said to my brother, turning away in the other direction to head towards the Arts and Humanities building. The wind nipped my cheeks, yet I was already too numb to care.

"Okay, bye sis!" Emmett yelled towards me, yet the strong gust of wind just muffled his voice. I wiped at the freezing tears that were spilling against my cheeks as I hurried on alone.

The chill from the outside winds still clung to me as I entered the familiar building, the new paint smell assaulting my nose. The building was fairly new; it was once the old practice basketball gym. The Auditorium was on the first floor, while the practice rooms that also served as classrooms were on the second floor. Seattle State University was known for its Arts program, the funds for the new building being built because of its outstanding music performances and achievements. The whole piano ensemble has gone to Paris four years in a row to compete, and three out of those trips our school had won second place. Port Angeles's School for Art has won all four years, not to mention the times before that. There was a healthy competition between the schools for a long time. Only recently have the two deans of music come together—as in married. Strange how one moment they couldn't stand each other and then the next they just clicked.

I hardly understood love.

Music was the only thing that was real in my life, besides my family. Music never dumped you, or got divorced. Music was always there for me, whenever needed.

I sighed with impatience as I headed towards the large staircase that brought me to the next floor. I then walked down the long hallway and passed the numbered classrooms till I got to the room labeled Practice Room, Please Be Quiet and went in quickly.

No one was here yet, thankfully. I hated to try and play when others were tapping at the keys too. It was hard to drown out the others, and I would always catch myself listening for their mistakes. I wasn't perfect, not even close, yet when it came to music… it almost seemed criminal to mistake a note more than twice. I was careful enough to notice that in my music. It wasn't that I thought I was better than everyone else, not at all. But If I compose something, I better get it right.

I placed my books next to me on my favorite piano bench. The smooth black wood welcomed me as I sat and I lifted the lid on the piano to reveal the bright line of ebony and black keys. Every time I first sit down to play, the excitement makes me giddy. I was silly to think that, but I couldn't help it. Even now, when my fingers itched to translate my lonely melody onto the keys, I was excited.

I wasted no time. I grabbed my music notebook and flipped to a clean crisp page of sheet music and a pencil. I would try and play the melody that was already playing itself in my head and then record it.

The first notes in my head were low, a deep harmony that was slow. I played a cord, adding just the right flats. I then moved my hands away from the cords and I pressed the petals below my feet. I played again while moving one hand to trickle new keys. The melody then flew from my hands, the slow rhythms pulsing around me as the song formed within the room and the music was lonely. I felt my heart tug painfully, yet lovely, at the new piece that was pouring from my hands. It was exactly how I felt. No one understood me, and ever would. It was deeply depressing.

A single tear spilled from my eye, trailing down my cheek painfully slow. I wasn't even looking at the keys anymore. I stared at the blank sheet music, imagining the next notes that would appear on the page and tell me what to play. My hands always responded to this, and would play on their own accord as if knowing exactly where to place themselves. Sometimes I would be astonished at the music that kept flowing through me, yet I never questioned it.

Even now, when the song's pace quickened and the swell of music was heartbreaking, I couldn't stop it.

At that moment, I heard a sound behind me. At first I didn't pay attention to it, thinking maybe it was just Dr. Esme Cullen coming to her class early. Yet when they did not announce themselves, I had to force my hands away from the keys in order to turn away. My fingers immediately felt naked without the keys underneath them.

I turned around to see who had interrupted me, and my breath caught in my throat.

What was he doing here?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, keep playing?" His voice, a sweet sound, said to me. Was his voice real? How could someone sound so… beautiful without the accompany of music? Maybe that was why he was a music legend, he was music.

He was smiling apologetically. Yet why such a god would ever be sorry for anything was beyond me. I took him in, every inch of him, without guilt. I greedily stared at his depthless green eyes, and longed to touch the messy bronze of hair. Oh my lord that smile, was it possible that anyone could have such a blindingly perfect smile as this? I felt myself melting on the bench.

Yet when his smile turned into a concerned frown, I instantly recalled that I hadn't spoken a word to him. I must look like an idiot.

"Oh, um, it's alright… I needed to stop so I could write it down," I muttered, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. I was blushing like crazy, and had to tear my eyes away from him before I started drooling. Where did this come from? Why was I acting like some little girl with a crush on the captain of the football team? This was bizarre. Maybe it was just because I was so into my music, my emotions are just a little wacky. Yeah, that must be it…

"Wait, you just composed that?" The god—I mean guy—asked me, his face twisting in further confusion. My eyes narrowed defensively.

"I'm sorry it might not compare to your compositions, but I didn't ask for your opinion." I grumbled, swiftly turning around so I could pick up my pencil and scribble the beginning cords on the sheet music. I didn't care if he liked it or not. I loved it, and that was all that mattered anyway.

I should have known he would be the overly confident pigheaded type, the ones that did believe their music was superior. He really did have the most beautiful pieces I've ever listened to yet it didn't give him the right to belittle others.

"No, no, you misunderstood me. I meant, you had just played that? As in, you just composed an entire piece in one sitting," He asked from behind me, and I jumped at his closeness. I hadn't heard his footsteps. But that could easily be explained by the fact that my heart was still pounding in my ears.

"Yes," I answered truthfully. I tried very hard not to let it seem like I did that… others would try and say I was cheating or had stolen someone else's music. I didn't want others to know I could do it. I didn't want the attention. I just wanted to make my music and that is it. I wasn't in it for anything else but that. I was only signed up to go with the class to Paris because it was apart of the requirements for my scholarship. If I could place, then the next year would be paid in full. It was about as much attention I would allow for myself; to be in a room full of people and the five judges. I still shivered at the idea.

"That's impossible. You can't be more than what… nineteen? You have had to have worked on that piece before," The guy behind me lifted the books next to me and took the empty spot. My body froze at his closeness, yet I shooed away any thoughts about that. I was supposed to be offended by his words.

"I'm eighteen, thank you very much, and no I haven't worked on it before. I just started it not five minutes before you walked in," I spat, shooting daggers at him angrily. How dare he underestimate me! He might be considered the best, but that didn't mean that I wasn't good. Gosh, how had I looked at him and thought he was attractive? What a stupid thought!

"No way. I only know three people who have been able to compose a proficient piece in one sitting. And even so, it took them more than three hours to do it. How could you be able to make an almost perfect piece in five minutes? At the age of eighteen? That is unachievable."

"Oh, and is perhaps one of those three you?" I threw back acidly. His mouth opened to respond, yet he closed it in tension. That was a yes. I smiled in triumph as I grabbed at my music book and snatched my books from his lap.

"It seems you are a little biased," I secured my things in my arms as I stalked off to another piano, the farthest away I could get from him. Luckily I didn't trip, my foot got caught in the carpet once but I managed to move forward with just enough balance to not fall. It was a miracle.

Edward Mason sat in front of the abandoned piano, fuming. But before he could say anything else a few people in my class came in and took their seats at their assigned pianos. Soon, the rest of the class trickled in, and I kept my place. The student was really assigned to this piano eyed me curiously as he came and stood next to the piano. I instantly felt embarrassed.

"Is there a problem?" Mike Newton asked, a disgusting trickle of snot coming down his nose. He sniffed it quickly, and it shot back in. I stifled a gag as I tried to compose myself enough to answer.

"Edward Mason is at my piano. What is he doing here?" I found myself asking once again, to myself and to Mike. A light bulb seemed to click above his head.

"Oh, the two deans wanted to conjoin their class today. They sent out an email last night, they said that they had some news to present to all of us,"

"When did they get into town?"

"Sometime this morning. Did you see their bus?" He asked, eyeing me curiously. I suppose if I had been paying attention to what was going on around me I would have seen it. It was probably parked out in front of the building. You would have to be blind not to notice. Or considerably distracted, I thought to myself as I remembered me thinking about my music. It was strange how wrapped up I could get into my thoughts and not even pay attention to where I was going. Sometimes I found myself in this room without remembering that how I got here.

"I guess not." I answered him, as I scooted over for him to sit. Even though the guy grossed me out, I would take him over sitting next to Edward. Yet Mike didn't sit down, instead he looked behind him and motioned towards the piano. A short girl with blond hair strutted over, a girl who must have came from PASA, that I never seen before.

"Sorry, they kind of assigned Jessica and me partners. I guess they wanted us to form friendships or something. Your partner must be Mason," Mike jutted his thumb back towards my piano, Edward still sitting there. Yet instead of staring at me angrily, he was staring thoughtfully down at the keys. It almost seemed like he was brushing against them with his fingertips.

My curiosity got the best of me as I got up to go back to my piano. The other students were chatting with each other, and it seemed like they were getting along alright. It was no wonder that I would be the one to have a problem with my partner. I was the freak, remember? I never got anything right.

"Edward Mason?"

He looked up at me, and it seemed that his anger was gone for the moment. I tried to be diplomatic, and hold my hand out for him to shake. No matter how much he got on my nerves, I still had to try and be nice. If he really was my partner, we would have to get along. I wouldn't let someone like him get in the way of my music.

He took it gently, and smiled a smile that had my feet melting underneath me. How on earth did he do that?!

"Bella Swan, right?" He asked, yet of course he knew it. My name was scribbled on the music notebook that I sat in front of him. I nodded my head anyway and took my hand back. The touch of his skin left my hand tingling, and I tried to flex my hand in order to rid the feeling but it didn't dissipate.

Just then the two deans walked in, holding hands and laughing at some hidden joke. They looked absolutely adorable together, Dr. Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Dr. Cullen was handsome, of course, with his light blond hair and warm smile. Dr. Esme was beautiful as a goddess; she had dark hair that always seemed to be wavy and soft. They stared lovingly at each other as they went to the front of the class.

I sat down in the empty spot where I originally sat, and interlaced my tingling hand in my lap with the other one. Edward shifted next to me, putting his hands in the same position. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he bit his lip. What was he thinking?

"Alright, class. You must have already guessed why we've called all of you together today," Esme announced, she preferred us to call her by her first name than by the formalities. "My husband and I have learned of some great news. From Paris." She added, and everyone around the room starting whispering to each other excitedly. Only Edward and I kept our heads forward and our attention on the deans. I was too curious to be excited. Somehow my stomach twisted, as if anticipating bad news.

"They've announced that this year they have added a new category. They are now allowing duets," Dr. Carlisle said, smiling at his wife happily. As if the news was supposed to be wonderful. The class was silent for a moment, but then they all turned to their partners and started chatting about something or another. Probably about what they've been working on or how they would combine things. My nose wrinkled at the idea.

Then I remembered, sickened, that Edward Mason was sitting next to me.

He was my partner!?

Oh shit.

Tell me what you think!--- Cthrnwrites3