Hi! Thank you to those of you who have read through the prologue. So 5 reviews….surely we can do better than that guys. A special thanks to all of those people who have reviewed. I have read your reviews at least 50 times and I am not exaggerating. I am keeping my fingers crossed for this chapter.
I think I should warn you that this story does involve abuse. I don't want to dwell on this as it may give away too much of the story line. It won't be overbearing or graphic because trust me I don't enjoy it. But I love angsty and hurt/comfort stories and the topic is very important to the plot of the story. So just bear with me.
So, here you go and please, please do let me know your thoughts (positive or negative). I do believe in constructive criticism and I think the reviewers always give the best input.
A special thanks to the members of Project Team Beta who are helping me with my story. The only reason this chapter is up here is because OTD673 and ilovenaley have taken the time to correct it. I make a lot of mistakes and they have devoted a lot of time to get it upright and have given me some great ideas. Thank you!
The story has a banner, my profile page has the link to it. Check it out! Here's the next chapter.
Chapter 2 – Vision Clash
Blue, gray, dull yellow, and a lot of black stared back at me. I trailed my fingers along the swirls and waves, feeling the gritty texture of the exquisite painting that lay before my eyes. I was interested in how the boring colors blended together to create the vibrant hues of a classical dawn.
Wished that was true for me…
"Jazz..." Words failed me. "This is…. exceptional."
"Ya think? Or are you just playing nice?" Jasper wiggled his eyebrows. "I know exactly what you're trying to do. I may seem unsuspecting, but I am certainly not stupid," he said with a stern, no nonsense look. "Swan, you are mowing my lawn, or have you already forgotten about all those free lunches I paid for?"
"Stop shying away. You, my friend, should be proud of yourself. I'd buy it if I could, but my meager income isn't going to get me this beaux paysages hanging in my apartment." Jasper's cheeks reddened, and I decided to harass him some more. "Are you blushing?"
"Cut it out, Swan…I'm warning you. I will make you mow my lawn for the rest of the summer if you continue embarrassing me."
"Pssst, Jazz, look behind you….Tinkerbell is here!" I snickered at how fast he whipped his head around to look at Alice, the fashion designer currently working with Rosalie, Jazz's ostentatious sister and struggling model. Jasper scuttled away to the statuesque opening of the Montesgue Art Galley.
I leaned back against the birch wood wall and watched the drama unfold. Jazz, visibly flustered and sweaty, jumped to greet Alice, awkwardly shaking her hand. She grinned up at him and folded him into a hug, kissing both his cheeks, leaving Jazz gaping at her like a love-sick puppy. The expression on his face morphed into a lazy, dreamy smile.
I held back a giggle, watching my best friend of fourteen years being so affected by a lady. I met Jazz in fourth grade when I was eight years old. He was new to Forks, and someone had spread the rumor that he had a generic case of the 'cooties.' Poor Jazz had ended up crying on a bench when all the girls freaked out. I had decided to introduce myself with a merely inquisitive statement. "I am Isabella Swan, daughter of Charlie Swan, who is the Chief of Police. My dad can arrest you if you give me cooties. Do you have them?" I had asked him, jutting my hand out boldly.
Jasper had looked up at me, baffled with tear-stained cheeks, before bursting into tears again. Figuring I had misbehaved, I sat down next to him and patted his back softly while he cried all day. We hit it off right away. He didn't seem to care that I didn't have a mom, the same way I didn't care how he had…ahem…cooties.
Isolated and quiet, we began to understand each other without saying much at all. Jazz was shy as a child, preferring to sit in a corner painting an illusion others failed to see. I don't know when exactly, but within a few weeks of his arrival, I sat huddled close to his side, with thick glasses on my face and my nose buried in a book. While our peers poked fun at us, it no longer seemed to matter, because soon enough, we became each other's advocates and protectors. We understood one another and saw the other far more clearly than anyone else could, because at some elemental level we connected in a way words couldn't describe.
The next few years flew by without a whisper. We moved to Seattle right after high school, where I started my bachelor degree in English, while Jazz struggled to come to terms with studying for a management degree. He finally gave up trying to satisfy his parents' wishes for his future, and set out to become an artist. His parents refused to help him pay his tuition for Seattle Ethéré Art Institute, which was a major blow. He was crushed, and it was horrific dragging my friend out of the self-pitying depression he had fallen into.
As of now, we were both twenty-two and rocking. I was working as an editor for an advertising firm, which published a weekly magazine called Paixão (Passion in Portuguese). It was a trendy magazine, focusing on health, lifestyle, and fashion. Jazz had set himself up in a cozy shop on the corner of our local coffee hangout spot. He wasn't exactly famous yet, more like surviving, but he was satisfied unlike the brooding Jasper of post-parental rejection.
My reminiscing was interrupted by a dainty little cough. I sighed and turned to face the wrath of Rosalie Hale. She was incredibly elegant, with a pretty little scowl and a flawless figure…how typical. Trying to muster up the most polite smile I could, I said "Hi, Rosalie!"
"Hello, Isabella," she said mockingly.
Sometimes I wondered what the hell her problem was. I had always been courteous, but she couldn't stand me. I would say she must be jealous of something, but I was nothing of substance; not beautiful, elegant, or graceful like her, but a gangly, ordinary, pale girl that had no sense of equilibrium.
"Isn't this the same dress you wore to the last exhibition?" she asked, scrutinizing my pale blue, knee-length, strapless dress.
My heart dropped to my stomach, as angry tears tried to make their way into my eyes. I wasn't as rich as her family, and this was my only decent dress. I really wanted to look the best I could when Jazz introduced me to other artists. Was it a crime to wear the same dress twice? My dress wasn't like the elegant, red, silk dress she had donned; it was a simple, cotton dress with detailed, dark blue embroidery. I was in no mood to take Rosalie's bullshit, since I had made an effort to look good. I had put my hair up because Jazz liked it that way, and had my late grandma's small diamond studs in my ears.
"Was there something you needed, Rosalie?" I forced out.
"Yes, actually there was. Get me a drink. It can get so hot in Seattle in summer," she said, dramatically fanning herself.
Rosalie, why consider modeling? You, my darling, are the perfect actress with your natural drama queen antics. I assure you there would be no struggles then…
Taking it as an opportunity to leave, and to keep my emotions at bay, I said, "Sure, Rosalie."
I made my way to the waiter serving drinks, and directed him to Rosalie, who I noticed had some crazy, feathery scarf on. My, my, I thought, it was warm in Seattle.
My blue stilettos were driving me nuts, and the straps were digging into my skin in a way that was sure to leave horrible red welts. As I bent down to relieve one of the pressure points, I lost my wonderful balance and toppled forward, my head going straight for a passing person's torso. We both crashed to the ground, with me on top of the unfortunate soul who had been subjected to my attack. In my befuddled state, I vaguely mused, 'That sure was a rock hard stomach.'
I lifted my head to look at the face of the person who had become the latest victim of my clumsiness.
All I saw were green eyes filled with fury, bronze eyebrows drawn together, and a chiseled mouth set in an angry, grim line. He was beautiful, and I couldn't stop looking at him. He was looking at me, as well. Well… he was kind of glaring at me, actually.
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I knew I should have been feeling embarrassed, or should have made a move to get off him. But I couldn't. I was stunned and shocked as a forceful charge ran through an imaginary line between us. I was basking in the warmth of his breath on my cheek, when his voice interrupted my thoughts.
"I do hope you are planning on getting off me, or I shall have you forcefully removed."
His voice was so hypnotizing, velvety…..seductive. It was also quiet, melodic, and reverberated with masculinity. Realizing I had been gawking at him, I hurried and collected myself. Mortified, I apologized as I pulled myself away from his muscular body.
"I am so sorry," I said, while offering my hand for him to take. He ignored it, and lifted himself with grace I didn't know anyone could possess.
"You should be," he frowned, fixing his artfully fitted suit.
"Edward! Bella! You guys okay?"
I looked up to see a very jumpy Alice running towards us, with Jazz hot on her heels.
"Mr. Cullen, are you okay?"
Hello to you, too, Jazz. In case you haven't noticed, your best friend fell over….traitor.
Jazz took an apprehensive glance at my profile while he waited for an answer from this Cullen guy.
Well, he did care... who would have thought! Sheesh, I'm honored!
Jazz put his arm around me while the Cullen guy stiffly said, "I'm fine."
I noticed all the commotion around us and blushed. To escape from the disdainful scrutiny of the spectators, I kept my eyes on my stilettos.
So much for making an impression...
I glanced up to see the green-eyed man staring at me inquisitively. He quickly turned his head away at the same time I did, my face was burning with embarrassment. Jazz led me away from the crowd and got me seated on a nearby couch.
"You okay? You gave me quite a scare! You sure choose your victims carefully," he grinned playfully.
"Shut up, coots," I smiled back, relieved he wasn't upset because of my disaster.
Jazz's grin widened, and he shook his head as he disappeared into the crowd. I nursed my feet by removing the stilettos and wiggling my toes. I wasn't aware that someone had sat down next to me until I was pleasantly interrupted by a velvety chuckle.
"You've done quite a number on your feet, haven't you? Stilettos don't seem to keep you pleasant company. You might want to give a fair warning to a passerby next time."
I looked up to see the crooked smile of the Cullen guy. Idiotically, I smiled back. Seems like I'm more like Jasper than I care to admit; all flustered and jittery in front of Mr. Cullen. Indeed, an idealistic reflection of Jazz's hassled state around Alice.
"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you. If it's any consolation, I was forced to wear the shoes."
"No problem. I'm sorry as well. My behavior was reprehensible. That was no way to treat a lady. I'm Edward Cullen, by the way."
"Bella Swan, and it's fine. I deserved it."
I extended my hand for a handshake, but he took it and kissed the back instead. His lips were so soft and warm. I wanted to reach out and touch them again, maybe with my own lips. I closed my eyes as I felt a fluttering deep inside my body. The static whizzing through the air was only a sensual touch, but the caress of his lips lit my body up like a live wire…
Really Bella? Live wire?
I halted my diverging thoughts, trying to stop the electrical hum from drowning me. I looked up to see him smirking at me.
Oh God, what is it with this guy?
I looked down and blushed, embarrassed at being caught. He lightly brushed his fingers on my chin, coercing me to raise my face. My sensitized skin bloomed under the musical whispers of his fingers.
His touch was soft, hesitant, and almost apologetic. However, he was unaware of the desire unfurling within me, alerting my hyperactive senses of the danger this man posed. His touch had been light, yet it felt as if it had been engraved into the pores of my skin.
I raised my eyes shyly to meet his. He gazed at me with soft eyes, his expression a mixture of mere curiosity and...what? Attraction?
Jazz is really rubbing off on me...
"You have beautiful eyes," he said, his gaze sincere.
I suddenly found myself caught in a spell. A spell that wouldn't let me look away.
His hair were bronze, I noticed idly, not breaking eye contact. It stuck out in all directions, a typical 'bed head' but it added an air of familiarity; no gel or fancy hair cream, he was just…natural.
Despite being clean-shaven, bronze specks on his cheeks shone from the bright sunlight coming from the windows at the top of the walls.
I was unaware of the world around us, completely lost in this moment where I was attuned only to him. Then I felt it...
My connection with Jazz had started off with that spark. This experience was so much more... overwhelming. The voices of the crowd had faded away; my heart throbbed a song, a melody synchronizing with the soft wisps of his breath. I only heard that melody; again and again, it played in my ears, trying to tell me something. Its valleys and crests, highs and lows, ripples and pulses, intertwined to produce a poem that rhymed with the depth of emotion surfacing within me.
It was unmistakable. It was beautiful. It was dangerous...
Everything was strange. Electric. The air was alight with sparks. My heartbeat resonated in my ears….thud…..thud….thud. His gaze was unwavering, adoring, and cherishing. He looked at me as though it was the last time he would ever be able to, and he was trying to preserve every detail. And surprisingly, I was doing the same. He made me feel so... precious.
I had lived my entire life with insecurities. My mom died in a car accident in her haste to get away from Forks... to get away from me. Charlie had never been a doting, affectionate parent. He was awkward, but I knew he cared and loved me. However, Edward's gaze filled me with warmth, and something I had always wanted. Acceptance. I unconsciously drifted closer to him, no doubt curious to feel the electricity, when the scent of his aftershave hit me. It was masculine, strong, and musky. I leaned in closer to take in his scent, and closed my eyes in ecstasy when his aroma filled my lungs. Somewhere deep in my mind, I felt him move in closer, too, until we both heard an angry screech.
We jumped apart, awkwardly looking away from each other. Like she had magically appeared before us, Rosalie Hale stood there in all her glory, with her hands on her hips and a stony glare, like Medusa.
"Edward, darling, I see you have met Isabella." She added my name menacingly at the end.
Darling? He was her date? Damn, I actually liked him.
It was rather ironic, I thought. When I finally look at a guy, he's taken, and by none other than Rosalie Hale.
Well, it didn't matter. I was no match for her…or him for that matter, I thought desolately.
"Yes, I just met Bella. We had quite the first encounter." Edward smiled at me, a genuine, warm smile, and I smiled back, jubilant he used my preferred name.
Rosalie looked speculatively at Edward, then bit out icily, "I see."
She smiled at me then, a full-on, malevolent grin, before turning to Edward, stepping on her toes and reaching to claim his lips. I looked away, not wanting to see her do something that I myself had wanted to do just moments before.
"Excuse me, ladies," was all Edward said in a cold, dark voice. He abruptly turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Miss Hale with her lips still puckered, gaping like a fish.
I smiled down at my lap.
That wasn't so bad, was it? It looks like we both mutually dislike Miss Hale, at least.
A/N: Please do review. I would like to get your input on my writing. It is fantastic how this fandom has attracted people from all over the world. I am pleased to say I have had people from locations as different as India and Netherlands view the story. I would love to know all your thoughts. It really does encourage me to write faster.
I am having exams and your reviews increase my serotonin levels.
I will be sending out teasers for the next chapter to all those that review!
Next update: Soon, don't expect it before next weekend, my finals get over next week, then I'm a free bird…