Hey guys. I know it's been a while, but you don't want my excuses, so here's the next chapter. I hope you're all still here…

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight series.

Fall Out Boy own the lyrics.

EPOV -- (Three years later)

"And, as always, I'm not addicted to you."

The night air was thick and moist, and the humidity permeated my pores, as if I were sweating. The long, narrow street was empty to the curious onlooker, but I knew there were things unseen by even my eyes. Darkness touched every structure and sidewalk, aside from the pavement under one lone streetlight, which flickered every few seconds, adding an essence of menace and cliché to the uninhabited road.

I glided through the shadows, searching for what I knew was here. I hastily avoided the dark glass of shop windows, fearing the evil of my reflection would catch my eye.

I didn't need reminders.

At unidentifiable speeds, I scanned each individual alley. First the left side, then the right. Nothing.

Confusion and frustration were battling for the place of dominant emotion. Frustration seemingly won.

Where were they?

I blew out a breath through my gritted teeth, trying to maintain control of my unrestrained anger. And barely succeeding.

I was irate. And exasperated. And depressed. And thirsty.

I then began to walk at a more acceptable human pace, nearly giving up hope in my exhaustive search. I lithely stepped over a grungy sewage drain, where excess water from prior rainstorms nosily filtered in.

And then I heard it.

Voices. Finally.

"He was okay, I guess. Not the best I've had."

"Don't you mean 'endured'?"

Laughter. I crept closer.

"You want to go home and change? Maybe get something to eat?"

"Sure thing."

Closer.

"Shit, it's late."

"Yeah."

Closer still.

Here. I. Am.

"Ladies," I greeted, a cynical smile on my face. "I'm looking for a good time."

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3RD PERSON

Bella cringed as she put on her shoes. Heels again. She pulled down her skirt and smoothed her hair back from her face.

The sound of her shoes hitting the linoleum filled the tense air as she walked the corridors of her apartment, shutting lights as she passed. The front door shut with finality, and she replaced the key in the door frame after locking up.

Time to go. Her soul belonged to the streets, and nearly anyone on them.

Whore. He'd never denied it.

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EPOV

It had been difficult to chose.

Blonde or brunette? I normally hated playing God, but today…

Brunette.

She was good, as far as sex goes. And by now I'd had enough experience to make a correct analysis on her performance skills. She'd moaned and sighed at all the right times, just like any other woman of her profession would. I'd told her my name -- I saw no harm in that -- but she'd not returned the formality. I supposed if I asked I'd have received a response along the lines of "Candy" or "Alexis." So I didn't. I never did.

Tonight, and every night, some nameless, faceless girl was Bella Swan. For the price I offered, I could call them any name I pleased.

Bella it was.

I was never sure if it was easier or harder to complete the final step while they were awake or asleep. But I never experimented. I never wanted to watch the life fade out of another faceless Bella's eyes.

So asleep it always was. My sickly routine.

Her dark hair contrasted against the white of the hotel pillow it fanned out on. It was a rich brown, nearly black, and shoulder length. Straight, with no waves. I thought her eyes might have been brown, but it was too late to know.

Her naked body was covered from the collarbone down, but the filmy white sheet didn't cover much from my heightened eyes. They never aroused me after I've had them. Mostly I thought the acts I always committed post-copulation discouraged my libido, but sometimes I believed that the women themselves were never the sirens. Sometimes I thought it was just the blood.

I shook my head, futility trying to clear my mind. No such luck.

I tossed one leg over her body, straddling her. I craned my neck so that my nose could skim along the skin of her throat, and inhaled deeply.

Abruptly, she stirred.

"W-what--" she began to ask, but I felt compelled to cut her off.

"What's your name?" I whispered intently, staring into her brown eyes. I wasn't sure if she would be honest, but something deep inside me needed to know her name.

I would never know why, but she told me the truth.

"Allison."

And then I killed her.

It was the most sour blood I'd ever drank.

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3RD PERSON

The Chicago air was sharply icy, but Bella didn't let it get to her. She had appearances to keep up, after all.

It was a slow night. Wednesdays always were. Chicago's lonely and desperate were at their middle-class cubicle jobs, and Bella was here.

She began to pace across the concrete, occasionally casting furtive glances down the street, where other girls were actually getting business.

Even in the world with the lowest standards, she was still not enough.

Before she could think about calling it a night, a sleek black limousine came to a halt in front of her curb. The whirring sound of the automatic window filled the night as the dark glass descended.

A hand shot out of the opened space, offering a large wad of bills. The top bill was a hundred. Bella stared at the arm that was bleached white by the street lamp, and tried to peer into the confines of the car.

"Is this enough for a night?" a smooth voice asked.

Bella gave a flirty smile and leaned forward.

"Of course," she replied silkily.

As if on command, the backseat door opened, and the same hand beckoned her in.

The back of her thighs squeaked awkwardly against the leather seat. Typical Bella. She looked at her company for the night.

He was handsome, she supposed. Strong jaw, high cheek bones, and an artfully curved nose. His hair was cropped, yet still attractive, and white-blonde. He turned to look at her as they passed another street light, and she could see a lusty gleam in his bright green eyes.

As they drove on, Bella wondered what his name was.

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EPOV

The long black car rushed past me in a blur.

Damn it.

She would've been perfect. From a distance, she nearly looked like…

I clenched my eyes and fists at the mere thought of her. I really needed to get over that.

I needed to forget about the girl in the car, and I needed to forget about Bella.

I needed another.

I sprinted the street in search of a new nightly companion, but I new any other girl tonight would be a disappointment in comparison to the one that got away.

She would've been the best Bella yet.

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I bet no one expected that turn of events. Is anyone still here?

Well…please review! It's the only motivation here, people.