AN: MS Meyer owns Twilight, I own some old jeans.


Chapter two. Ask and ye shall receive.

Dear Nan,

I've got to thank you for the restful sleep last night. I'm surprisingly refreshed! Who would have thought after last night's drama? I'm writing this lying in bed, stretching and yawning after one of the best sleeps that I've had in ages.

I wasn't disturbed once. I still can't hear any noises coming from the rest of the house.

I had the best dream with you in it! It was clear as day, in brilliant technicolour!

There was a wonderful new place, where I lived in peace and joy; with a heap of friendly eccentric artists, a waterfall, a scruffy dog and a horse called Daisy.

Strange, but it felt so real!

Apart from your voice telling me over and over, that all will be well and to never fear; there was a beautiful girl in the dream who felt really familiar, I couldn't remember her name. We got very close and shared our heartache and fell into each other, a sort of merging? Maybe it was love, maybe she was an angel, or a friend perhaps?

Curious!

I've never really felt attracted to any of the guys at school, or in this neighbourhood and certainly never any of Renee's bar flies that she drags home. On the other hand, I've never been attracted to girls either. Maybe the dream girl was symbolic of something? Or someone? Who knows?

At this moment in time; if I was forced to choose between loving men or loving women; I'd probably be likely to come down in favour of females; because apart from a few exceptions, I've found that a lot of males are just plain creepy and hard to trust.

I have never been remotely attracted to anyone, ever.

Mind you, I'm still only 15, and I've got a lot years left if I live to be your age Nan.

Maybe there will be someone to love somewhere in my future? I suppose I should at least try and be hopeful and not let the shit at home get me down.

In my dream last night was a strong second part, which included my two next door neighbours. I'm friendly with Steve and Vladimir; they kindly lend me their tools and also used to babysit me when I was small. They laughingly refer to themselves as 'my very own fairy godmothers!' I guess it was a play on words and their camp lifestyle. They love to lend me dress-up clothes for Halloween and happily drag me along to all the gay pride marches.

The dream was crystal clear, my two gay next door neighbours held the key to solving my current dilemma with Renee and Phil. Maybe it might be worth the risk to knock on their door?

If it gets too embarrassing to ask for help, I could just leave and try and call Charlie instead. Not that my father would be much help, living in the other side of the country thousands of miles away in Washington state, rather than here in Arizona.


Hey Nan you'd be so proud of me!

I was slipping out of my window on the way to Steve and Vlad's place, when Steve's face popped up over the side fence.

He called out, "Bella darrrling, you've got to come over right this minute! I haven't got a moment to lose! Get your cute butt over here! I need your advice on a life and death situation!"

I had to laugh; only Steve could have a life threatening drama this early on a Saturday morning. You remember Nan, how he used to keep you amused with all his antics?

Anyway, once I got over to his side of the fence, he grabbed my arm and told me I was to only one in the whole world who could help him.

Apparently I had the perfect figure to model his new line of vintage-print aprons and he needed to use me this very afternoon in his show. It turned out that Hank and Didier his previous models had gone over to the dark side, and had decided to model for his arch-enemy instead. Who knew that the world of experimental fashion and fibre-art was so fraught with dissention and drama?

Steve's apron creations were inspired by a lot of your fabrics Nan. You remember all of the old stock you kept from the haberdashery store you used to run in the 1950's and '60's?

Steve's turned a lot of your old fabric into the yummiest range of aprons. He's determined to get into the slow food/comfort food movement, also a nostalgia and longing for the simpler times that he is certain that rich baby boomers are experiencing.

According to Steve, his aprons inspire the wearers to create better tasting food and happy homes. (It's nice to have some dreams of nice food and happy homes, I wish I did.)

I can't speak for the baby boomers like Renee and Phil, but I like his aprons and he always makes me smile. It looks like Vlad and I are going to strut our stuff up and down the runway! Just cross your fingers that I don't fall flat on my face! I'm hoping that he doesn't make me wear high heels; then I'd be doomed for sure!


Well Nan, this afternoon was a true triumph. Steve and Vlad were beside themselves and couldn't stop hugging me and squealing like 6 year old girls on a sugar high.

I can't stop smiling like a loon! I didn't trip up once!

Steve got approached by a gallery owner who wanted to stock all of his aprons. He was so thrilled; it makes me happy to hang with them both.

On the way home from the show's after-party, they chatted with me. With a little prodding they wheedled the details of my shitty home-life out of me.

Vlad turned to look at me, sitting in their backseat feeling nervous about the latest Renee and Phil fiasco which I had just described to them. They were shocked, silent for a moment and then turned to each other.

"Bella hon, that's just not ok! You're going to have to come and move in with us! No arguments! We aren't going to let Phil and Renee ruin your life and get away with it, are we Steve?"

"Hell no! Not over my dead body! We loved your darling grandmother too much to ever let you down. All we need to do is move you into the spare room; you know it will be a pleasure to have you as our special guest."

"Remember when we used to have you over when you were a cute little button, and I used to sew up those funny little sundresses and create lacy crotchet cardigans? You were such a sweet little thing. Nowadays you're going for that dark baggy, 'I'm not really here, invisible look'. Like you're trying to hide from those scary losers your mom brings home?"

"Err, yeah, I guess?" I went that beet-root colour, shaking my head trying to find something interesting to see out of the window to distract me from my anxiety.

"I would love more than anything to spend more time at your place guys, but are you completely sure I won't be in the way?" I squeaked.

The boys just laughed and gave each other a look and smirked at me.

"You know we just love you Bella, you'd be a joy to have at our place!"

Steve gave me a look. "We understand that black is a classic, but it really isn't doing anything to bring out your beautiful complexion. You know, warmer tones always show up your lovely hair and eyes and help your skin glow. Maybe I could have a bit of a scavenge around in my dress-up collection for something that you can wear on your birthday next weekend. In fact, I'm sure Steve's got just the thing in your size." Vlad smiled at me knowingly, "and you know, I could give your hair a little shape and texture, maybe put a few highlights in it, and spice up your look a bit."

"Are you sure Vlad?"

"Oh heavens yes! Hair like yours is what we call in the trade 'virgin' hair. It's never been touched, pure and it's truly a hair stylist's wet dream!

You have the face and hair that I could use in the new ad I'm creating for the salon.

I think you could be our new face, what do you think?"

Steve started bouncing up and down in the driver's seat, "oh yes, yes! I can see it now, she'd be perfect."

"Don't you need someone blonde and curvier, for that kind of modelling Vlad?" I wasn't sure what they were getting so excited about. I was dark-haired, brown eyed and straight up and down. I'm definitely not the usual model type.

"But darrrling, Bella, you don't see yourself clearly at all! Brunettes are definitely the new latest big thing! Just of think Audrey Hepburn, Kate Middleton, Princess Mary of Denmark, Angelina Jolie and all of those other lovely graceful women. Your posture, bone structure and flawless skin give you the edge; you could hold 'the look' without even trying. Just give it a go, please Bella? If you don't like it I won't ask you to do it again. Just try it once for me, pretty please?"

"Yes, you have the look Vlad's Vamps needs!" squealed Steve.

"Oh heck, why not? I'm sure I couldn't look any worse than I usually do. I trust you both to not make me look any dorkier than normal." I had to sigh and shake my head. Not only had I got a supportive safe place to live, but these two were going to give me a new look, new colours to wear and a scary job being the face and hair for Vlad's salon.

How did life just manage to turn on a dime so fast? Maybe they are my special fairy godmothers after all! I guess you already knew that, didn't you Nan?


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