Hello, I know it's been so long since my last update, and for that I'm truly sorry. I totally lost heart in this story completely; mainly due to my Beta, who basically told me that this story wasn't worth continuing with. She was a good Beta, but I just lost all heart in the story with the constant cynicism towards it. It took alot of considering, but eventually, the email update saying that someone else had added me to their favourite authors reminder finally made me realise that there's people waiting for the story. So, lgarza1313, you basically saved the story :')
I know this is a short chapter, and I know I promised a longer one, with an EPOV, but since I stopped writing it, I havent wanted to start again. But I'm starting tomorrow, so an EPOV should be up within a few days. Enjoy :)
I awoke early to the continuous sound of the rain on the window. It didn't look like it had stopped at all in the night, and I sighed, thinking of the blistering heat that beat down almost 24/7 back in Arizona.
Sitting up in bed, I glanced around at the chaotic mess that is my room. Clothes were strewn over every surface, piled up high and spilling onto the laminate floor. My desk had practically disappeared from sight, leaving a mound of clothes precariously balanced on top of each other. Pairs of shoes- Choo's, Louboutins, Fendi, Valentino- lay in a heap in the far corner, next to my suitcase, which was empty apart from a few "essential" products Renee had stipulated I bring.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't that person that she created. I had only been in Forks for a week now, but it made me realize how much she had moulded me, controlled me. She had created the daughter that was right for her, the right daughter that she could take to all her friends dinner parties, the daughter that she could dress up and show off, whilst all her socialite acquaintances cooed over me, saying how 'adorable' I looked. That was the greatest achievement for Renee; to have a daughter, a puppet, that everyone else was jealous of. They all raised their own daughters to their high standards, and would go to whatever lengths it took to make them the most favored.
From a young age, I was taught which clothes suited which figure best, whilst other girls at my school were taught how to make fairy cakes. I was taught how to tailor a diet right for the country someone was in, they were taught how to tie their shoelaces. I never wanted to be like them; I never had the choice. Renee would instruct me not to talk to them, as they would influence me and make me childish. I agreed with her from such a tender age, because it was all I knew. I didn't know what she was doing. I didn't know how selfish she was, how it would eventually effect me so much that I would hate her. I simply saw her as the most beautiful, caring mommy that I had ever met. I felt grateful that she looked the way she did, with her flowing, chocolate colored hair, and her high heels and pretty dresses. All the other Moms had simply pony tails, jeans and a plain t-shirt. Renee would turn heads wherever she went, and I loved it. I was so proud of her. I aspired to be like her, until she went too far. She tried to morph me too much, tried to change me into someone that I began to loathe. I hated myself.
Throughout my teenage years, my rebellious side kicked in, and Renee found she couldn't control me. I used to rip up my designer clothes, snap the heels of the shoes that she had bought me. I hated it. She thrust this future upon me with vigor. When I reached 16, she told me that as long as I would behave and earn her money, she would pay for a roof over my head, and any luxury I wanted. I was naïve, and I accepted.
However much I hate Renee, she stayed true to her word and bought a house in the uptown estate of Arizona. I loved that house; it had 4 floors, one of which was mine solely, and I could decorate it however I wished. I lived in the floor, rarely venturing downstairs, because it meant communicating with her. Yes, she kept her side of the deal and of course I kept mine, but that didn't mean I had to converse with her. I found it insufferable to be in the same room as her, so instead I stayed on what was technically my own flat. It had a huge bedroom, with a four poster bed and a gigantic walk in wardrobe. My bathroom was marble, with a Jacuzzi tucked into one corner, alongside the whirlpool bath and shower unit. A vanity unit ran from one length of the room to the other, which was kept fully stocked with any type of cosmetics, facial products, cleansers, cleaners, moisturizers. I only had to ask Renee's assistant, and it would appear a few hours later, filling the vacant space in the cabinet. I also had a kitchen on the third floor, in which stood a white Smeg fridge, which would be filled weekly, but I did not have a say in the contents of it. Renee controlled that part of me as well, as the food I eat affects my weight, and my weight affects my appearance, and my appearance affects her salary. But, its not like I had much time to eat food, seeing as though my filofax was bursting with events that I had to attend to.
On the day of each event, a hairdresser, stylist and makeup artist would be sent to set up on my floor, in one of the rooms specifically for that purpose. The room was the brightest one, and had a huge balcony overlooking the estate. There was a huge vanity mirror, with five spotlights placed in strategic locations to abstain the best light possible. I would be placed in front of that table for most of the day, whilst the makeup artist lathered products onto my face, and the hair stylist teased and tamed my glossy locks into the suitable style. Then I would be whisked off to the stylist, who would present to Renee a rail full of outfits, one of which would cause the most press success, and in effect, the most money for her. Once she had chosen, I would be stuffed into the dress, prepped on the way she wanted me to behave for the evening, and eventually whisked off to whatever lunch function, charity event, fundraiser, ball, that I was invited to. This was my life. Day in, day out.
When Renee told me I had to move in with Charlie, it took me by surprise. I couldn't understand why; sure, my relationship with Renee was becoming more and more strained, but we muddled along, and I figured as long as she earned her money, she would be happy. But she had other ideas, and went behind my back in making the arrangements for me to move to Forks. I was upset when I found out, because although I didn't like staying with Renee, it was a home. I had no attachment to Forks - I hadn't been back since I was 16. I hated Forks. I would ultimately refuse to step out of the house if even the tiniest of speckling of rain graced the sidewalks. And now I was moving there. I eventually found out exactly why Renee was moving me there; she had been offered a new job, a PR guru. It was her dream, and she would give up anything and everything to get it. And that meant giving up me.
When I found out this reasoning behind sending her only daughter away, I grabbed my pre-packed LV and stormed out of the house. I could see her crying from the porch that I left her on, but I knew that those tears were not for me. Those tears were for Renee - she was so happy about her new job, knowing the places it could get her, and yet I was bringing her down. I was the one smashing the euphoric state in which she had immersed herself in. She cried for herself because it is the only person she cares for.
I was startled out of my musings by the warning bleeping on my Blackberry. The battery was running low from when I threw it in my bag out of anger. I got up carefully, stretching my limbs as I moved. I must have slept in a funny position as my neck was aching and I yearned for the hot spray of the shower. Rifling around in the back, I noticed how much shit Renee had packed in here. I guess she thought that there would be some press in Forks, someone to take my picture. Ha, stupid delusional Renee. I eventually found it, and the charger, and plugged it in. I quickly scanned through the messages, most of them from Renee's publicist, Tanya Denali, sending warning messages implying if I didn't get into the papers soon, my small claim in Renee's fortune could be withdrawn. I rolled my eyes. I would make that money on my own. I was Isabella Swan; I'd been making my own money since I was fucking 5! Tanya could threaten me all she wanted, but I knew that reinstating Renee's will to not include me would never happen. Renee knew that as soon as she did that, she was cutting all the ties she had to me, and she would never earn another penny on my account ever again.
I sighed again. It seemed the longer I stayed her, the more I realized what a spoilt, rich bitch that I had been turned into. I hated that I was that. Here, in Forks, I knew no-one, and no-one seemed to know me. To them, I was just Chief Swan's daughter, Bella Swan. To everyone beyond Forks, in somewhere that resembled civilization, I was Isabella Swan, world famous, bitchy, self centered, vain IT girl. I reveled in the mystery of it all, the freedom to be who I wanted, wear what I wanted, do what I wanted. I decided, upon my musings, I was beginning to like Forks.
After I showered, I pulled on a light cashmere Row Audrey sweater and Gucci jeans. The designer clothes were the only thing that I would truly miss receiving. I loved the way they fitted, they hugged your body and outlined the things you wanted to reveal, and concealed the things you didn't. Anyone who says that high street clothes are the same as designer clothes has never tried on an Oscar De La Renta gown, and felt the way the royal blue material flows down the contours of your shape perfectly. The meager wage that I would earn from a small job in Forks would never pay for me to sustain my designer clothing addiction, so i would have to revert to the high street/thrift store clothes. Urgh, wearing someone else's clothes. I desperately needed new clothes; the scantily clad dresses and skirts I had brought fromArizona not suitable for the constant downpour in Forks.
I slouched downstairs, flicking on the kettle as my body's craving for caffeine increased. Looking through the cupboards, I realized Charlie must eat out a lot, as the total amount of food in there consisted of a tin of beans, a packet of Jell-O and some cheese crackers. Not like I ate much, so the scarce amount of food was a blessing for me; trying to suppress the cravings for junk food whilst sat in a house fully stocked with crisps, chocolate and fizzy pop was not the easiest thing to do.
The shrill brring of the phone made me jump, and I quickly scrambled up to answer it.
"Hello, its Edward." A velvety voice spoke.
"Oh, hey Edward, what's up?" I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to take another lesson today? If your not busy, of course."
"Sure, that would be great. There's no chance of me being busy, really, except from finding a job, but that can most defiantly wait." I grinned.
He chuckled down the phone, "Okay, I'll stop by your house in about half an hour."
"No problem, see you then!" I placed the phone back on the receiver and anticipation danced inside of me. I couldn't wait to see Edward again, but for what reason, I didn't know.
Please, please, PLEASE review. It means so much :) Also, there isnt a Polyvore with this one, as there just isnt enough items listed.