A/N: Katbug86 did her awesome beta'ing tricks. [hearts]

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight; all of the respective characters belong to Smeyer. I do not own any Beatles songs either, unfortunately.


Chapter 2

Sold I to the Merchants Ships

EPOV

Music was my life; I ate, breathed, and slept music ever since I was a young boy.

My mom always told stories of me as little as one, babbling and singing along in perfect time to the music on the radio. I began playing the piano at the age of three, and the guitar followed shortly after; I was classically trained in both by the age of seven.

I have written songs as long as I can remember - they just always seemed to be in my head, constantly wrestling around in my brain - demanding a release. I would be in the shower and the refrain of a song would pop into my head, and I'd dive out, dripping wet, scrambling for something to write on. It had been my life, all of my life, and I had always loved it.

When I signed my first record deal, I was over the moon, at only twenty-one all of my dreams had come true. Then life changed so drastically, I couldn't even tell you how things happened, or in what order. Thinking back, it seemed like as soon as my pen touched the paper of my contract, the whole world shifted. My album was recorded and in stores in less than a year, topping the charts in less than a month.

Tours came immediately after that, I didn't step foot in my house for over a year and a half. At first it all seemed so magical - life was so fucking perfect. However, the truth smacked me hard in the face the first time I was staring at my picture on the front of a tabloid in a supermarket. The truth was I no longer had a life.

I had truly sold myself in all sense of the word. My life was public property, and I felt like a slave in a lot of ways. I still enjoyed playing music, writing - the whole process was what got me out of bed every day. But after five years of constant attention, the fame had grown stale. The glitz and glamour were never what I was interested in. Don't get me wrong - I am a human being, I am naturally flawed - so I ate that shit up in the beginning.

The girls, the money, the fame, it was all a great perk just for me being able to do something that I loved doing. I couldn't help but wonder what I had ever done to deserve such luck in my life, to have everything I always wanted - well, almost everything.

Reality could be a harsh light though, and I found myself in its glaring spotlight more often than not. I was no longer able to walk out on the street without being recognized and mobbed. The paparazzi stalked me like I was a wanted fugitive. I had learned how to be stealthy, but most of the time I wished that it wasn't even necessary. I wanted to be able to step out of my apartment and stroll down the street, buy a pack of gum and not have a single soul notice me - I wanted to be normal again.

There in lied my answer; it was not luck with which I had found my current life. I had earned it, and all of the 'perks' came with a heavy price, and some days I wasn't unsure if that price was truly even worth it.

For those reasons, I found myself yet again sneaking into the rinky-dink local bar, Twilight, hovering in the back so I could hear some of the new up and comings in the music world. It was one of my guilty pleasures, I loved indie acts, I loved finding the ones who were hungry for it - they always had the best music; the ones that didn't have it all and were working their asses off just to have a chance at it.

I had figured out a pretty good system for lying low, and most of the time I was able to semi-enjoy my time unscathed and un-photographed. In order for that to work, I had strict rules I held myself to, rules I had thrown out the fucking window that specific night. I was being completely careless, and I had no idea what had come over me. All I knew was that I was sitting on a stranger's couch, in her hotel suite, unsure of what to even say.

I didn't know why I asked to come in. At first I feared I was being too forward, that she would get the wrong idea, but the way her whole face lit up when I asked dulled those fears. Frankly, I found myself dumbfounded by the girl. Firstly, when I nearly knocked her to the ground, only managing to catch her inches from it; normally I would have let the person fall and move away as fast as possible so not to be recognized. I knew it seemed harsh, but it was the only way I was able to venture out into public: be completely invisible.

However, when I felt her soft, small frame jar into me there was an electrical pulse that sent my hands automatically out to grab for her. Then I found myself staring into the deepest pools of chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen. Her expression looked like one of complete shock, and all I could think was that she was injured. But as soon as I spoke she stood and fled. It was the strangest interaction I had had with a person since becoming famous - at least in the way it had effected me.

While waiting for the first act to begin, my brain replayed it over and over again, but there was something that was bothering me and I couldn't put my finger on it.

Was it because she didn't recognize me; because she didn't scream at the sight of my face and immediately throw herself at me? I thought bitterly - that would have been a more typical reaction. Had I become so accustom to that reaction that I now craved it - had I really become such a masochist?

My internal mulling had been interrupted by the sound of the piano striking the chords of a familiar song. One of the few memories I had of my mother was of her playing old Beatles albums and dancing and singing along as she did house hold chores. After I had mastered playing the piano, I picked her favorite Beatles song as my practice piece; 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand.' I played it every day to remember my mother's face, and there it was, wafting softly through the crowd to me, drawing my gaze to the brightly lit stage.

There, perched on the piano bench like a glowing angel, sat the girl with the beautiful brown eyes. She was playing a slow sad bluesy rendition of the song I knew so well. It was a beautiful version; I was at a loss watching her on stage as she sang the words.

"And when I touch you I feel happy, inside

It's such a feeling

That my love

I can't hide

I can't hide

I can't hide"

She held out the last line of the verse and her voice was so rich and soulful. I watched as she seemed to lose herself in the music, singing as if no one else was in the room. I was mesmerized by her thin wrists bent perfectly over the keys, moving with such ease. Her long brown hair, wound down her back, glints of red shimmering under the stage lights. It looked soft and welcoming, my hands begging to comb through the luscious locks.

She finished the song and was rewarded with a loud applause from the audience. I made up my mind then that I had to talk to that woman - something about her was pulling me in.

I waited after the set, but she didn't immerge from the back hallway, and a line had begun to form at the table by the bar I presumed was hers. Emmett, the bar's owner and my long time best friend, grabbed my arm and shuffled me to a back room behind the bar so I had cover from the growing crowd.

"Thanks man," I said, realizing how close I was to another paparazzi storm.

"No problem man." He nudged me and turned back to the papers on his desk.

"So who was the girl that played the last set?" I asked attempting to sound casual.

"Her name's, ah, Bella Swan." He double checked the name on the paperwork he had in front of him.

"She some local girl who came in for the night?" I asked my curiosity piquing.

"No, she's not from around here; she's an indie act, pretty popular. I heard she was going to be in town for some charity concert, and I called her and invited her to play here. I thought her stuff was pretty good." He smiled his big goofy smile at me.

"Yeah she wasn't bad," I replied, taking my hat off and running my hand through my hair. "Does she do any original stuff?"

"I think it's all covers, she's got a CD and everything. All the proceeds go to cancer research from what I understand."

"Cancer research? You mean you're not paying her?"

"Na, I'm sending a check to the charity foundation she has."

"She has a whole foundation?"

"Yeah… why you so interested?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, causing me to fidget subconsciously. As many times as I'd seen new acts come through Emmet's bar, male and female, I'd never really expressed any interest and he was obviously recognizing that fact.

"Just curious I guess," I shrugged.

He smiled wildly at me, and I rolled my eyes at him. His big booming laugh filled the small office as he stood, swinging his fist hard into my forearm. "Little Eddie's got a crush?" He mused mimicking the voice of a 12-year-old school boy.

"No, nothing like that, I just liked her compositions of those songs. They were new and refreshing versions of some real classics."

He starred at me incredulously. "Since when did you start writing reviews for Rolling Stone?"

"Shut the hell up," I shot back at him, as he held his hands up in a truce.

"Hey, whatever dude, but I'll be the one saying I told you so when you realize you're in love with that girl," he chuckled.

Rolling my eyes again, I waved my hand at him dismissively. "Now you're just being preposterous. I've not even spoken to the women."

He glanced over my shoulder out the one way mirror that looked into the bar. "Well, now's your chance," he nodded his head, and I followed his line of vision out to the table where she was sitting.

It appeared she was packing up her things; if I were to speak with her it would be my only chance. I took a deep breath and waved goodbye to Emmett who was laughing at my retreating form. What a dick - a loveable dick.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I looked up to see Bella going to the mini fridge in her hotel room. I had been so busy analyzing how I even got there; I had been completely in my own world for the last few minutes.

"Yes please, whatever you're having," I smiled at her as warmly as I could; she stared back for a half second too long.

I was still feeling very disconcerted by our odd and somehow intense exchange thus far; I'd never had such a hard time talking to a woman. Sometimes it seemed as if I could read most women's minds - they all always wanted the same thing from me, and that's easy to read. But Bella was so different, I had no clue what she was thinking or wanted and that irritated me. Have I begun to rely too heavily on people just blurting out what they want at me that I've lost the ability to read people completely?

"Do me Edward!" That was what I usually got, or more explicit versions of that.

"Here, it's rum and coke, I hope that's okay." She passed me the small plastic cup, her fingers brushing mine lightly, that electric thrumming evermore present with our physical contact. She pulled her hand away quickly, and I was hoping she felt it as well - that I wasn't losing my mind.

"Thanks," I smiled. "So, Emmett tells me that you play for charity."

"Emmett?" She asked, before recognition passed over her face. "Oh, the owner of Twilight, yeah, all the proceeds from my gigs and CD sales go to a foundation I've created."

I nodded my head and mentally noted the fact that she didn't say what kind of charity it was for - touchy subject? I decided to play it safe and steer clear of that topic.

"If you don't mind me asking, how are you able to do it?" I was always comfortable talking business, so I figured it would be a safe topic.

"What do you mean?"

"How are you able to play gigs, travel, plan charity events and make a living if all of your proceeds go to charity?" I clarified.

She blushed, for what reason I didn't really know, but I was momentarily distracted by the adorable pink color the spread across her cheeks.

"Um…" she furrowed her brow searching for the right words. "It's complicated," she shrugged. Once again Bella was supplying me with more mystery than answers and it was driving me crazy - what I wouldn't give to be able to read her mind.

"It's okay; you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. That was rude of me to be nosey," I smiled apologetically; you attract more flies with honey.

Her eyes jutted around the room a few times as she pulled at the ends of her shirt sleeves, which were drawn over her hands. Biting down on her bottom lip, she looked up at me anxiously like she was trying to make a decision. I took her momentary deliberation to really look at her.

Bella's skin looked like soft porcelain, almost breakable, her features were normal, but her eyes were wide chasms of rich mocha and flecks of cinnamon that I felt I could get lost in if I stared too long. Her lips were the color of lush, pink rose petals and looked just as soft. I watched her teeth pull at her bottom lip and my mouth actually began to salivate. Her brown, wavy hair that curled at the ends was spilling over her shoulders and down her back. She was truly beautiful, breathtaking.

"No, you're not being nosey. It's just … complicated."

Tipping my cup back, I forced the last bit of what was mostly rum down, eyeing her. She seemed to want to tell me, but something was stopping her, I struggled to weigh out how hard I should push - but I was admittedly more than curious. Then again, for whatever reason, I found myself wanting to know anything and everything about Bella.

"You already said that," I finally replied lightly, putting my patented "panty dropping" (Emmett's name - not mine) smile into effect.

Her eyes glazed briefly, falling to my lips and back to my gaze. "Well, it's just… I do have some money saved up, and Rose - my best friend - she is a financial whiz, so she helps…"

Her voice trailed and she dropped her gaze to her lap, lacing and unlacing her fingers that rested there as she shook her head softly.

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it," she mumbled, her voice sounding almost melancholy all of the sudden. I took that as my cue to stop pushing, nodding my head in a silent agreement, even though she hadn't been looking at me.

I opened my mouth to speak just as a knock came at the door. Bella's head shot up, eyes wide as saucers, all of the color draining from her face. "Shit," she whispered.

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, "Who -,"

"Shhhhh," she hissed, silencing me quickly. "Quick -go hide in the shower."

"Bella, what are you -,"

"Do. You. Want to. Be. Mauled?" She asked slowly, her voice deep and menacing. I scrambled off the couch, judging by the look on her face and the tone of her voice - she was completely serious, and I really, really did not want to be mauled.

The plastic of my cup crinkled and snapped as I slammed it down on the table, jutting into the bedroom and locating the bathroom immediately.

A million thoughts raced through my head - old boyfriend, current boyfriend, over protective brother, rabid wolves. I had no clue as to who I was hiding from, all I knew was that my heart was thrashing so hard inside my chest, the rum flooding through my system, and I felt light headed - the small hotel shower spinning around me.

Clutching one hand to my chest, in attempts to slow my heart and one hand on the white tile of the shower wall to balance myself, I breathed in and out; endeavoring to clear my head, trying to make sense of the situation.

I was not being myself; I sure as hell didn't feel like myself around Bella. In any other case, I wouldn't have been in her hotel room, let alone stuck around to hide in her shower. I didn't do shit like that. I didn't seek out women - it was far too dangerous and risky, because most of the time people couldn't be trusted, and I stuck to my core group - the ones that had been there since before I sold my life away.

What am I doing?

Letting my hand fall from my chest, I rested it on my knee, bending slightly and closing my eyes; my heart rate had slowed exponentially. Bella's soft shy smile flashed behind my closed lids, her warm eyes shining and my stomach clenched in excited knots.

Despite my confusion, one thing was for sure, Bella had captured my attention unlike any other woman I had ever met - and I wasn't going anywhere.


A/N: I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, we will get more in depth soon, I promise! Please press review and leave me your thoughts!

Now for an important message: I'm sure you are all aware of the amazing efforts put forth by The Fandom Gives Back to raise awareness for Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation [ http:/www(dot)alexslemonade(dot)org/ ] which raises money for fighting childhood cancer. FGB is constantly doing things to raise money, but recently they have teamed up with KStew411 to try and raise some more. Last year when FGB and 411 teamed up they raised over $10,000.00! This year they want to top that, they have several different ways you can participate. KStew411 has items that can be purchased through a store (all proceeds go towards the fundraiser), or you could donate! Please take a moment to look into this more than worthy cause. If there is anything I have learned over the last year about this fandom, it is that we are a giving, loving GOOD group. Show you're support and help the fight against childhood cancer.

KStew411 store: http:/snarkandsass(dot)com/

Donations: http:/kstew411(dot)/

Want to be kept up to date with the generosity of the fandom? Follow FGB on twitter! fandomgivesback (link to their website on twitter)

Thanks lovlies! - Buff