Disclaimer : I do not know Robert Pattinson or any of the real people named in this story. Its all a figment of my overactive, warped sense of humour and vivid imagination. No harm is meant. I do however know Cassie, Lisa, Kelly and Emma.
T.A.R.P.A.S. A TEASER CHAPTER RPOV
The last month had been hectic in the extreme.
We'd wrapped on Breaking Dawn and had a party to celebrate Kristen's 21st birthday.
The mini motorbike all the cast had chipped in for went down a storm.
Kris loved it.
We'd gotten closer again over the last 8 months of filming.
Inescapable really as we were now a married couple, well, our characters anyway.
The trip to Brazil for the honeymoon scenes had been fun and as we were the only members of the cast there, I suppose it was inevitable, we would end up spending a lot of time together.
Getting more intimate but we'd been there, done that, no going back.
We were friends now, mates. Nothing more, nothing less.
Which is why. When at the New York premiere for Water For Elephants. I was totally thrown when Kristen turned up at the after party.
Nick Frenkel my manager explained that the powers to be at Summit. Thought it would be good publicity, in the lead up to Breaking Dawn being released.
Fucking Summit.
Now that the last of the Twilight franchise were in the can. I could try and concentrate on non Summit movies.
They'd had my balls in a sling for long enough.
I just had to comply with all the bullshit until the movies were released and then I'd be free of them.
Don't get me wrong. I was grateful for the chance I was given to play Edward fucking Cullen.
It sounds pathetic but if I had known how much my life was going to change.
If I'd had a crystal ball and had seen into my future.
I wouldn't have gone for the bloody audition.
Then again. I wouldn't have gotten the roles of Tyler, Jacob or even Georges Duroy.
Maybe, well maybe. I'm just feeling pathetically sorry for my dumb arse.
For losing my anonymity, my privacy. For being expected to smile and make nice to everyone, everywhere I went. For putting up with the stalking papz. Their camera's shoved in my face every time I was in public. Having to try to ignore the constant orders and commands they screamed at me. Even their insidious comments attempting to make me lose my shit!
There were more pictures on the web.
More speculation.
More anonymous sources informing of the so called love affair with Kristen.
Some arse wipe actually video'd us leaving the after party together.
So I gave her lift back to the hotel. So fucking what?
'I hate this. Fucking papz.' Kristen cursed as we got into the back of the SUV.
Nick was loving it. Which in turn made me wonder. How in the hell they had found out we were coming out of the back door, together?
'Hey Bella. Giss a snog? Let's give them something to talk about.' I laughed. I'd had a few beers and so had she.
Surprisingly. Kris sat forward and I lunged. Knowing full well what her reaction would be.
'Fuck off Rob.' She giggled and attempted to cover her blushing face from the onslaught of camera flashes.
We knew there would be pictures and I'm pretty certain that was why Nick left the car open, surrounded by the baying papz.
We got back to the hotel. Kristen went to her room, alone.
I had a beer with my parents, sisters and other relatives who had made the trip to New York.
There was no love lost between my sisters Victoria and Lizzy, toward Kristen.
She'd broken my heart and they were not about to let that shit happen again. Not on their watch.
'So I was surprised to see the Kristen at the party Robbie.' Lizzy commented disdainfully.
'Don't fall for her again baby boy.' Vic added worriedly.
'She's just a friend sis. I promise you. There's nothing else going on.'
I knew they were only worried about me.
There was nothing malicious about their comments. Just watching out for their little brother.
'You need to find yourself a nice English girl love. Preferably not a bloody actress.' Liz decided.
So here I was.
Back home in London. A week before the premiere of Water For Elephants in my home town.
I'd spent my first night home at mum and dad's and as much as I loved my parents.
Going back to my own flat meant no more lectures about smoking, drinking or eating junk food.
I'd finished reading my Cosmopolis script for the third time and flicked on my laptop.
I liked checking out what I'd been up to.
Some of it made me laugh. Some made me bloody angry.
It seems I'd given Kristen a promise ring and a Diamond and Emerald bracelet for her birthday.
That was pretty funny. She wasn't the jewellery type of girl.
A leather strap with old cola can tabs attached were more to her taste.
Then there was the breakfast in bed story at the Mandarin hotel.
Where the fuck did they get this crap from?
I Googled new R.P. blogs.
They were my favourite. Little blogs by real fans.
There were a couple of new ones. Same old, same old.
Then I clicked on one called TARPAS. The Actor Robert Pattinson Appreciation Society.
Clever, catchy too.
I opened the page.
The first thing that made me literally crack up were the rules.
There was to be no mention of Twilight or Edward Cullen.
Well that's different. Definitely not a Twifan site then.
I was intrigued and couldn't resist posting a message.
What name should I use though?
I sat and pondered while I smoked yet another cigarette.
I couldn't use any of my usual alias's they were sussed out too quickly.
Okay, I decided on Thomas Dupea.
I was certainly surprised when I read some of the comments.
My performances. No gossip, no rumours, just, well, my acting roles.
Tyler seemed a favourite which I was pleased about. I'd poured my heart and soul into that role.
How To Be, Bad Mother's Handbook and even Cedric Diggory fans. Oh wow! The Haunted Airman got a mention.
I typed my own message.
'It's ridiculous banning the words Twilight and Edward fucking Cullen. That's what made him famous. That's what he'll always be known as. He's crap at anything else.'
I wrote, waiting to see if my derogatory comments got a response.
I didn't wait long.
'You're obviously a very young fan who only see's Robert as E.C. He's far more that. He's an excellent actor who differentiates any role into his own. Negative comments about him will not be tolerated. Find another blog dedicated to T movies and if you really are male, Thomas Dupea. I suggest you find a nice gay T site. TARPAS site owner.
Damn. Whoever this Tarpas site owner was, they were definitely feisty. I laughed aloud as I typed my response.
Tarpas site owner. I am male and most emphatically am not in need of a gay fan site. I am merely of the opinion that without Twilight or Edward Cullen this actor would actually have been a nobody, possibly a total bum. My opinion only. Am I not allowed an opinion? I thought this was a free country. Thomas Dupea.
I loved this game of cat and mouse. I felt sure it was a female running the Tarpas site.
I ran my fingers through my hair. Bloody nervous habit. As I waited eagerly for the reply.
It took a good ten minutes before my reply popped up on my screen.
Thomas Dupea. You are allowed an opinion but as this site is dedicated in MY OPINION to a fine actor and as I own this site I have my rules. Numbers 1 and 2 being no mention of the T word or the E.C. words. If you cannot comprehend that these words are banned then you should not be on this site. As for Mr Pattinson being a nobody. I would imagine he would be grateful if that were so. It would make his life a lot less complicated. As for him being a bum…Personally, I think he looks especially sexy. Bearded, scruffy and bum like. My opinion. He looks nice dressed up but best as hobo Rob. No regards, Tarpas site owner.
Holy cow! Well that told me or should I say Thomas? Hmm. Sexy as hobo Rob heh? I wonder if this Tarpas person had Skype? I had to see for myself who was kicking my hairy butt.
Dear Tarpas. Do you have Skype? I should like to see the face of the person who is reprimanding me so. Best regards, Thomas Dupea.
I went to the kitchen for another beer. Lit yet another cigarette and waited anxiously for the reply.
Thomas Dupea. Yes I have Skype but no I won't allow you to view me. The whole point of this blog is for genuine Robert Pattinson fans to discuss his acting abilities, his roles, his characters and his music, end of. If you cannot accept this, then you have no business here. Hopefully, you will take that as a refusal to become a member and…FUCK OFF! Sorry, my verbalisation and digits have a mind of their own. Tarpas site owner.
After I'd read the message for the third time. Still laughing as hard as when reading it for the first.
I wiped away my laughter tears, swigged a mouthful of beer, lit another smoke and made a decision.
A really dumb arse decision but one I was determined to carry out.
I began typing. Ciggie hanging from one side of my mouth. Trying my hardest not to break into hysterical laughter again.
Dear Tarpas. I haven't laughed so much in an age. You are a joy. I will no longer mention the T or E.C. words. I will abide by your rules. Can I please be a member of your club? Ha ha. I've decided to let you view me. Don't block it okay? 10 seconds only. Thomas Dupea
I clicked on Skype broadcast and held my breath.
Whoever was at the end would know who I was.
Oh fuck! What was I doing?
I was allowing myself to be viewed by a complete stranger, through a bloody blog site.
I'm an arsehole. A complete cretin.
I didn't speak my thoughts. I merely ran my hand through my hair.
Which was apparently a nervous habit fans found endearing.
Personally. I couldn't see the attraction. It was an annoying fucking tic!
Like biting nails, smoking or stuttering.
So now whoever was at the end of the line was viewing.
'Hi.' I said. Then clicked off Skype.
I typed another message, my hands shaking nervously.
What if it was a crazy psycho fan?
What if my picture was already being broadcast on Twitter or Facebook?
Crap!
Nick would go mental. Stephanie would haul my arse over hot fucking coals, not to mention, oh Jesus, fucking Summit.
I grimaced. Imagining the headlines in OK magazine or some other gossip mag. 'Lonely RPatz reveals to fans via Skype'
Oh well, in for a penny!
Dear Tarpas. I think now that you know who I am. I should know who you are, don't you? It's only fair. Thomas D
I clicked broadcast and whoever was on the end clicked to view.
I must have looked like a complete dick sat there.
My long sleeved cream t-shirt looked crumpled beyond belief.
Well, nothing new there I guess.
I'd been pushing my hands through my hair like a fucking mad man.
What was it the fans called it?
Ah yes. Sex hair. Just been fucked hair.
I laughed. If only.
The only hands through this unruly mop was mine, sorry ladies.
I saw myself reflected on my laptop screen.
My hand resting on my face, two fingers pushing my forehead into a crease.
I looked angry. Fuck Pratz you moron.
Whoever is viewing is going to be scared shitless, without you looking like a demented idiot.
Oh bollocks, fucking fingers in the hair again, grow a pair arsehole.
Why wouldn't they let me see them?
A message appeared.
Thomas Dupea. You are without a doubt a very handsome fella but I'm afraid you only run a close second to the object of my fantasies namely. 1. Robert Thomas Pattinson. Nice to meet you though. Mr Dupea. Tarpas
Whoever this was definitely had my sense of humour. I loved it and laughed aloud again.
God, I hope it was a female I was chatting to.
Yeah of course it is you prat.
I typed my reply.
Dear Tarpas. So if you'll turn on your Skype we can talk. I hate typing, I'm too slow. Please switch your Skype to broadcast. I want to see who I am talking to. Many thanks in anticipation. Thomas D
If I was honest. I was fascinated. Excited even, to see the face behind Tarpas.
To see the person who had admitted to having fantasies about me.
Admitted to not being an Edward Dickwad Cullen fan.
I licked my lips in anticipation. Nothing!
Oh fuck with the hair you jerk.
Thomas Dupea. No way matey not in a million fantasies. Never. It was nice to see you though Mr Dupea. Maybe you'll surf my way again sometime. In the meantime remember, no mentioning the T or E.C. words. Bye. C
What the…I considered switching off Skype.
I was convinced however, that this was unquestionably a woman, or maybe…Oh crap!
What if it was a little teen fan.
Great. Hello magazine exclusive. 'RPatz flirts with 13 year old on Skype' Oh bollocks!
Quick type something you moron.
Dear C. Now I'm intrigued. What does C stand for? Is it Cullen? Oops! You know who I am. Just your name is that too much to ask? Thomas D
I bit my thumb, then lit another cigarette. Still staring at the empty screen.
Mr Dupea. No name. No pack drill. Them's the rules dude. Take it or leave it? Most emphatically not that C. Tarpas
Fine. Like a petulant child I switched off Skype.
If I couldn't see her. I'm damned if she would see me.
I finished my beer in two gulps.
Well that was…Interesting.
C…Christine? Caroline? Charlotte?
Fuck, how many woman's names began with a C?
Well this would be a first. Even for me.
I logged onto the Tarpas site again and joined up.
I was now an official member of a fucking RPatz fan site.
Tom and Sam would have a field day with this egotistical shit.
Wow! This was a popular site, over 2,000 hits.
Fucking amazing.
It was a nice feeling to know that all these fans felt the same way about the whole Twilight and Edward Cullen thing.
I know, I know, selfish bastard right?
Believe me. I am grateful to the whole Twilight franchise.
It gave me the opportunity to do other movies but quite frankly, being beholden to Summit Entertainment LLC, is the bane of my existence.
Thou shalt not be seen in public with anyone other than thy family, known friends or Kristen Stewart.
Thou shalt not be seen in public intoxicated.
Thou shalt not visit pubs, clubs or restaurants, unless accompanied by thy manager or publicist.
Thou wilt attend all functions Summit deems suitable of publicity purposes.
Thou shalt not be rude to photographers, reporters, or interviewers.
Thou shalt not have relations with anyone other than thy co-star.
And best of all.
Thou shalt not be seen in a public place, drinking or smoking.
Thou shalt be dressed smartly wherever thou dost go.
Fuck you Summit!
I'd already had this out with Nick my manager.
If I want to dress in my own inimitable fashion. I fucking well will.
If I want to smoke and get pissed. I fucking well will.
If I want to get laid by someone other than Kristen. I fucking well will.
After all, I wasn't the only selfish fucker around here .
Summit, had made an absolute fortune from the Twilight saga, but then, I guess, so had I.
Yeah, it was great to have a bank balance that wasn't in the red.
Or be in the usual position of owing friends and family a shit load of loan repayments but it wasn't going to change me.
If I wanted to shop in second hand stores for my clothes, I will.
If I wanted to go unshaven for more than a day, I'm bloody well going to and if I want to pick up a girl for a good shag…Well, I grinned, that was never me anyway.
I didn't believe in casual flings.
If I fell. I fell head first.
Probably a lot to do with my parents loving relationship.
I wanted to be loved and to give love in return.
One night stands didn't appeal to me.
I couldn't be like some of my mates, 'fuck em and leave em'.
No. The closest I got to a one night stand…A hand job. Self inflicted. No comebacks! Pardon the pun.
I typed another message on the Tarpas site.
Hey C. I'm online…Feel like a chat? Thomas D
I ran to the bathroom, had a quick shower, shave, brushed my teeth and redressed.
I grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, sat back down on the sofa and lit another smoke.
I was still on LA time. Fucking jet lag.
In a few hours it would catch up with me and I would probably pass out.
I continued drinking coffee, smoking and staring at the screen, suddenly a message appeared.
Thomas Dupea. I'm online. Skype me. C
I inhaled a huge gulp of air and clicked to broadcast.
'Good morning C. Well as usual you see me. I no see you,' I grinned wickedly.
I'd practised this grin a million times. Maybe it would work.
When the view box appeared, I gasped.
My God. She was…Stunning.
Short dark hair. Bright sparkling, rich, chocolate brown eyes, framed with the thickest black lashes.
A perfect, cute button nose and her skin…Peaches and cream. English Rose and all the other fucking cliches I could think of and those lips…Wow!
'Well hello there beautiful.' Oh fucking smooth arsehole.
I ran my fingers through my hair and smiled.
'Good morning Mr Dupea. Nervous habit you have there.'
She laughed, a sweet tinkling laugh that made my stomach lurch.
Jesus she had a sexy voice.
She was biting her bottom lip. Fuck, what I wouldn't give to have my teeth biting that luscious lip. Okay I was horny, so bite me.
'I could say the same about you Tarpas.' I giggled.
Oh come on. What are you Pratz, fucking fifteen?
'Huh?' She answered.
'The um…Bottom lip.' I told her, waving my fingers toward my screen.
She looked a little, well, quite frankly. I thought she'd gone into shock.
'Are you okay there Tarpas?'
I laughed, sitting back a bit on the sofa, determined to enjoy my conversation with this gorgeous woman before me.
Suddenly she gasped and her fingers, with long painted nails were stroking her screen.
What the fuck!
Jesus, those hands stroking me, on my chest.
Christ. I was getting a stiffy just watching her, lick her lips.
'You're…You're wearing it.' She sighed softly. Fuck if that wasn't a sexy sound.
Then I realised. The Stoli.
Shit, I hadn't even realised I'd put the bloody thing on.
Every fans dream apparently.
I'd been sent dozens of the damned things but they never quite felt the same against my skin, as this tatty one.
'Oh this old thing.' Okay, it's official. I'm a teasing shit.
Once I knew the object of her desire. I played it.
'So where in the world are you? You're English right?'
I asked her as I ran my hand purposefully over my chest. Over the fucking old, holey, Stoli t-shirt.
It had the desired effect. You're a wicked bastard Pratz.
She stared longingly, her tongue flicking around her lips.
Oh fuck, that shit was hot!
My dick strained in my jeans as I heard her breathing deepen.
You know, I'm pretty certain. If I let my hand wander down, just a little…Down a bit more.
I grinned wickedly as her eyes followed the journey of my hand.
I lifted the hem of the Stoli…Just a smidgeon. Just enough to show a glimpse of stomach.
I heard her audibly gasp.
Okay enough dickwad.
'Oh you know it well Mr Dupea, in fact, we've met.' She smiled. An awesome melt your heart smile.
Say what?
'We've met?' Okay my turn for the shocked expression.
How the hell could I have met this beauty and not remembered her?
'Oh yes. New Years eve. For about two minutes.'
Wait New Years eve…Oh crap. The Isle of Wight. That fucking impossible. Wanna forget it ever happened, rotten, shit of a night.
'Wait, the pub…Ventnor. Yeah but you've cut your hair. You had really long hair. Wow! You're on the island aren't you?' I said or gabbled would probably best describe my garbled reply.
I did remember her.
We were sat at a table. Kristen was being her usual wary of everyone self.
Sam, Tom, Marcus and I were downing Whisky like it was going out of fashion.
'Hey Patty. Admirers at 10 o'clock.' Sam grinned.
I turned and saw four young women heading toward our table.
'Oh fucking brilliant.' Kris would have a face like a wet week-end when she spotted them.
I smiled politely. 2 blonds, 2 brunettes. My God.
'Wow! Look at that fucking hair man. I could wrap myself up in that.' Sam grinned lasciviously.
'Get me the fuck some scissors dude.' Kristen grimaced.
'Fuck off Kris. They're only fans. They look harmless enough.' I told her.
I was losing my shit with her.
I wished the fuck we'd never invited her here.
She'd been in a bad mood all day.
'Me likey little blondy, blue eyes, nice titties.' Sam laughed, raising his eyebrow suggestively.
Did I mention he was pissed?
'Ha, just your fucking type dude.' Kristen laughed.
'This is so true Miss Stewart.' Sam chuckled. Eyeing the blond bombshell.
'Hi Mr Pattinson, Miss Stewart. Um…We. That is my friends and I, we um, just wanted to say hi and we think you're brilliant actors.'
The beautiful girl with hair the colour of plain chocolate. Hanging down her back to just above her arse smiled sweetly.
'Well thank you very much. That's nice to know.' I said politely. 'Enjoy your New Years ladies.'
The other girls all said 'hi' to Sam, Tom and Marcus.
'Message received. Now please leave us alone.' Kristen told them.
'We're really sorry to disturb you Mr Pattinson, Miss Stewart.' Chocolate hair said.
The four girls turned and went back to the bar.
Sam, Tom, Marcus and I grinned.
Kristen grimaced 'why can't they leave us alone Rob?' She moaned.
My three so called mates decided that now was a good time to go to the bar for refills.
'Why can't they just leave us the fuck alone?' She said softly. Booze did that to her, calmed her, yeah!
'Because my love. We signed up for fucking Twilight, duh!,' I grinned, feeling some of her tension slip away.
'Yeah I know dude.' She almost smiled.
The girl on my laptop screen was totally bewildered.
'You…You remembered?'
'Yes of course. You and your friends right? Tell me though. Why did you cut your beautiful hair?'
I had to ask there was no getting out of it.
She didn't answer with words. Instead I watched in fascination as she pulled a band thing from the back of her head and let her hair fall down over her shoulders and down her back.
My immediate thought. Purely sexual. How I'd like to grip her gorgeous mane, pulling her toward me while she rode me.
Fuck, I needed a cold shower!
'Holy shit. That's better. I think I'll make another trip to your island. I should have taken more time to get to know you New years.' I smiled, while trying to discreetly adjust myself in my jeans.
Oh man. I wish I hadn't gone commando today.
'You were a little preoccupied.' She said sarcastically.
'Yeah right. Well, that was then and this now.'
I smiled at her but I don't know. Thinking back to that night just brought a shit load of old feelings back again.
'I have to love you and leave you I'm afraid.' She announced, as I watched her pull her hair back, twisting it with her delicate fingers and using the band to hold it in place again.
'Don't go…Please.' Okay begging Pratz? What a dickwad.
I stared at my screen.
'I have to. I have a business appointment. You know what that's like right?' She grinned.
'I still don't know your name.' I told her.
Just your name. That's all I want. Your fucking name.
'Yes you do Mr Dupea. It's…' She was grinning and I was…Holding my breath.
'It's…Tarpas.' She laughed wickedly, then the screen went blank and she was gone.
That exquisite, dark hair, dark eyed beauty was gone and I still didn't know her name.
Time for another smoke, calm the fuck down, I told myself sternly.
I typed a message.
Hi Tarpas. Love me and leave me? Story of my life. Thomas
Oh you pathetic arsehole, I sighed.
