A/n: i'm trying desperately to make these chapters as long as possible but i don't want to bored you guys to death. i miss the days when i could write eight page chapters and not feel like i was forcing it. maybe once i get the story rolling a little better it'll be easier. hopefully. anyways. i just finished all my finals for the semester. hopefully i passed. ugh.

enjoy guys. review and i'll love you forever (even though i already do for actually bothering to read.)

i tried editing as best i could, but you know me, i'm human, i make mistakes.


Rosalie was incredibly intelligent for a runway model. Don't get me wrong, I knew models weren't as stupid as the movies (and reality television) made them out to be, but Rose was much more than that. She seemed like the type of girl that probably turned down a scholarship to an Ivy League to do Fashion Week in New York. I wouldn't blame her, though, if she did. If I looked anything like her I would give up everything to be famous. Yeah, call me materialistic, but you'd do it too, don't lie.

Soon our conversation felt more like we were two best friends sitting in my apartment catching up than two near strangers who happened across each other in a locked down airport during a blizzard. I was so comfortable with this woman, and I'd met her less than an hour ago. I wasn't so sure this was normal, but at the moment, I didn't care much. I was just glad for someone to talk to.

Suddenly, as if I weren't paying attention, Rosalie tensed up and grabbed hold of my forearm. I heard her harsh intake of breath and then followed her gaze. On the other side of the terminal, near one of the many Starbucks in this wing of the airport alone (I think I count a new one every time I come), a small woman was waving her hands frantically at a man sitting down in front of her. Her short black hair was sticking up every which way and for a second I thought she did that because she was trying to pull it out, but then I realized it was deliberate. She looked slightly familiar, but I couldn't be sure since she was so far away.

"Do you know who that is?" Rosalie hissed, pulling me up from my seat and dragging me along with her. Apparently she was someone Rose thought we had to talk to.

"Um, a woman who clearly needs a chill pill?" Why was Rosalie freaking out about this person? I was definitely confused. Did I miss something somewhere and now I completely didn't understand the punch line?

"No, Bella. That's Alice Brandon!"

Alice Brandon. Why did that name sound so familiar? Clearly she was famous from the way Rosalie was reacting to her very presence, but for the life of me I couldn't think of where I'd heard that name before.

"Who?" I asked.

"She's only the hottest designer right now."

Hmm. Maybe that was where I knew her from. But, as I thought about it, and as Rosalie and I inched closer to this 'hot designer', I knew that couldn't possibly be true. Since when did I keep up with fashion? Oh yeah, never. Obviously I was either going crazy or I knew the name from someplace else.

Alice Brandon seemed to be fuming when we finally reached her. I was almost scared of her, even though I towered over her by at least four inches. God, she was tiny. Come to think of it, she reminded me a lot of this one girl that went to my high school. I'd never talked to her, but I'd always seen her walking around and she seemed like a nice enough person.

Rosalie cleared her throat and Alice's head snapped to attention. Her eyes grew wide as she set eyes on the woman standing next to me. I didn't even bother to be offended that she didn't notice I was there. I'd forget me if I laid eyes on Rosalie Hale first.

"Rosalie Hale." Alice said, completely deadpan and her eyes still as wide as dinner plates. "Holy shit."

Rose laughed. "I could say the same about you, Alice Brandon."

Alice seemed to snap out of her little trance and threw her arms around my new acquaintance. "I am such a huge fan," she gushed. "You are completely amazing. Would you be interested in showing my spring line in Milan?"

Rosalie's eyes lit up and she squealed happily, hugging the designer back. "Oh would I ever! Screw Valentino. He can have Heidi Klum."

Once the initial excitement had subsided, Rosalie and Alice started chatting like teenage girls. I felt a little out of the loop, so I thought this was about the right time to take my leave. Just as I was about to start backing away unnoticed, Rose stopped her talking and snapped her head in my direction. Oh, so now they notice, I thought a little bitterly.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry," she said. Her face looked apologetic enough for forgetting I was there, and I wasn't really going to question it much. "Alice, I'd like you to meet a new friend of mine, Bella Swan. Bella, this is Alice Brandon."

Alice turned to me and smiled warmly. But then her face contorted to that of confusion and she tilted her head slightly, examining me. Her eyes narrowed. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

I sighed in relief. I wasn't crazy. Oh thank the lord. Praise Jesus. "You have no idea how glad I am that I'm not the only one. I feel like we've met before, but I just can't place it."

Alice tapped a finger on her chin and put all her weight on one leg so she looked kind of like one of those beach bum, bleach blonde girls from Laguna Beach. Except Alice wasn't blonde, and she wasn't tan (and didn't have a fake one either), so I guess she just looked preppy.

"Did we meet at an opening maybe?" She asked, a little hopeful.

"I doubt that," I said. "The only openings I've been to were in and around Phoenix and I haven't been to one since I was at least nineteen. They get a little repetitious, don't you think?"

Rosalie nodded her head like she knew all too well how annoying an opening could be. I was glad I wasn't the only one. I smiled up at her before turning back to Alice.

"Phoenix, you say." Alice's voice held a faraway tone. She seemed to be lost in a memory for a moment, and then suddenly it dawned on her. "You went to South Glen South, didn't you?"

"Um, yeah, how'd you know?"

"You're the girl who got that vampire book published your junior year! Oh my god, you're Bella Swan!"

I stared at Alice, watching her face as she broke out into a toothy smile. She seemed very proud of herself that she remembered who I was. I just wished I could remember her.

"You went to my school?" I asked, still slightly confused.

Alice nodded vigorously, still smiling. "I was a senior when you were a junior, so that's probably why you don't remember me, but everyone knew who you were. You were totally famous." It didn't escape me that she said I was famous in the past tense, but I knew it was all too true.

But it's not like I meant to be famous in the first place. It wasn't like I planned on getting that book published. But no, Angie, my best friend, had to go behind my back and send the manuscript to a couple publishers and the next thing I knew Alana was standing on my doorstep getting all chummy with my mother and then they started talking contracts and all this other crap. I couldn't take it and yet for some reason (I'm still trying to figure it out. Honest.) I went along with everything and now look where it got me. I was a washed up, has-been author and I wasn't even twenty-three yet. God, talk about pathetic.

It dawned on me right then how I knew Alice, though. I'd seen her pretty much everyday since my freshmen year and I'd always wanted to talk to her, but I never had the guts. She always seemed unreachable. Almost as if she were in her own little bubble that no one could penetrate.

"Alice Brandon," I said, nodding. "I remember you. You were that freaky gothic chick that no one talked to. I based one of my characters off of you. Well, sort of."

Alice smiled. "Anthony's sister Violet, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah. Her. I don't know why, but I always imagined you with a secret shopping fetish of some sort."

Alice laughed so hard I thought for a second she'd burst into tears. "Well, considering I kind of did, and I am a designer now, you pretty much hit the nail on the head."