I do not own Twilight or any of the songs that may be used in this story. All rights go to their respective owners.

The princess examined her flawless royal blue ball gown. She turned to her side as the oak rimmed mirror showed her her perfect and uncut beauty.

"You look lovely, your majesty," Bella said from the doorway.

"Hmm," the princess regarded the comment, still looking in the mirror. "I better."

She turned towards Bella. "Bring the glass slippers."

Bella whistled and two of the royal maids dressed in their rags and aprons came prancing in, carrying the shiny, clear shoes in on a satin pillow. The princess plucked them off the pillow and examined them.

"Lovely," she murmured.

"Yes. You are."

The princess turned to see the royal cook at the door. She made a noise of disgust as she turned away, sitting down on the golden king sized bed.

"Jacob," she mumbled. "What's with the corny lines?"

"Well," he said. "This is a fairytale, right?"

"Not mine," she grunted.

Once her shoes were placed on her feet, she reluctantly linked arms with Jacob and strode off down the palace and into the golden horse drawn carriage.

The moonlit streets of New York City were busy with bar buzzers and young couples out for some midnight love, with the occasional media following my tracks. I wrapped my black cloth coat tighter around my torso. Underneath, I wore a short midnight blue cocktail dress with matching designer heels.

My heels clicked on the ground as I walked shamefully to my impending doom. This was so embarassing! I give in too easily.

I walked into the tall black edifice which was the Tip Bar. Taking the elevator upstairs, I heaved deep breaths as I prepared myself. For him. For the media. I could already hear heavy music pounding through the doors. The gray steel doors opened onto the top of the building. A long bar was set up towards the edge of the building. There was, of course, a glass separater on the edge of the building, giving you a view of those at the bottom of New York City, rushing home from their jobs. Glass tables were scattered across the top. And at one of the bar tables, with two shots of tequila, was, you guessed it.

Jacob Black.

I pushed away my reservations as I continued my sassy strut to the table. He turned around and smirked.

"I didn't think you would come," he told me. "What made you change your mind?"

"I said I would," I snapped, tossing myself into the chair next to him. "Renesmee Cullen keeps her promises."

I snatched up one of the small gold rimmed shot glasses as I chugged one down. Ordering a martini from the bar tender, I kept my eyes trained on the black bar table top. The bar tender set the awkwardly shaped glass down in front of me. An olive hung on the side, speared by a wooden toothpick.

"Well...," Jacob said. "Tell me about yourself."

I twirled the contents of my drink around with the toothpick. "What's there to tell? I'm twenty-four, unwed, never want to settle down. No pets. Only annoying brothers, of which you met, and one cousin, Jasper. I guess you could count them as pets..." I began to envision Edward, Emmett, and Jasper on all fours with bright red collars on. Shiny yellow dog tags dangled in front of their chests. The thought made me smile.

Jacob let out a loud chuckle. "I'm sure there's more."

I considered this for a moment, furrowing my brow while I thought. "Nope. Not really."

Jacob examined his empty shot glass between his thumb and index finger. Then he raised his hand and called, "Bartender! Can I get some Scotch for the lady and me?"

I set down my martini down on the counter, staring at him in awe. He turned back to me, grinning.

"What?" he asked, somewhat amused.

I shook my head as I looked away. "Could you get anything heavier? God! I'm not a drinker!"

He chuckled. "Well, maybe you need to splurge every once in a while."

The muscular bartender set down two moderately sized glasses down in front of us. Light and liquidy gold filled up about a quarter of the glass. Jacob picked up one and handed me the other. I spun it around in my fingers, staring at the imprints of my fingers from the outside of the glass.

Aw, hell, I thought as I took a large sip of the drink. If I went home drunk tonight, hopefully Jacob would have the sense to call Leah or Edward. And, no matter how drunk I was, in no way would I ever allow Jacob to even lay a finger on me. Not even his pinky finger, which, granted, was rather large. But you get the picture!

"I'm beginning to question your whole "sober" story," Jacob teased.

I rolled my eyes as I took another sip. "It's a special occasion, right?"

He let out a quiet laugh. "Right."

We were silent for a minute before he spoke up again.

"So what is with you and Jessica? It seems like there's some sort of... rivalry."

I set my glass down on top of the small white napkin.

"Jessica," I said. "Needs to learn her place. She seems to think she's some Powerpuff Girl or something for fashion. But I'll be damned if I lose my job to her."

Jacob looked thoughtfully into his glass.

"So you're jealous?"

I gaped at this. "Jealous? Of Jessica?"

He nodded, still examining his cup.

"No way!" I defended. "There's nothing to be jealous about!"

He set his glass down and held his hands up. "Hey, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Can't say I like her myself. I'm just asking."

I giggled softly and looked up at the midnight sky, smiling. A warm finger probed my jaw line.

"Hey. What are you smiling at?"

I turned back to face him. "You're just... funny."

Jacob cocked his head. "Funny?"

I let out another soft laugh and turned back to the table.

"Bartender! Another round!" I called.

Jacob smirked. "You're getting pretty good at this. Were you an alcoholic and I just never knew about it?"

I grabbed the new glass the bartender set down in front of me and began swirling it around.

"I just got out of rehab," I teased.

He laughed. "That's kind of sexy, you know."

I delicately sipped from the rim of the cup.

"Really," I asked once I was done.

Dear, God. Maybe I was getting a hangover. Suddenly, the room seemed to begin spinning, and I could see the floor in and out of focus.

He set his glass down, scrutinizing my face.

"Renesmee. Are you okay?"

He snatched the glass out of my hand, waving an arm in front of my face.

"I'm fine," I mumbled. And I thought I was, at the time. "I just need to go to the lady's room."

I stood and began making my way through the crowd into the elevator. The lady's room was on the level below.

When the steel elevator doors reopened, I was faced with a crowd of fashion photographers, all shoving cameras in my face. I pushed past them, ignoring their questions. Bright flashes of light made my head ache and spin, threatening to make me faint any moment.

"Miss Cullen!" one called. "Is it true you and designer Jessica Stanley have an ongoing rivalry?"

"What? No!" I responded, pushing past them.

"Is it true," another began, shoving a big black mic in my face. "that you and Miss Stanley got into a fight last week and you threw a telephone at her?"

"Miss Cullen!" a man in a black pinstriped suit called. "Do you know where Elvis is?"

I had to stop at that one.

"Where," I asked. "do you come from? Is there an island of dopes just like you?"

That's when they all started asking questions.

I swear, if I ever hear "Miss Cullen" again, I will rip my own hair out and swallow it.

The reporters all started closing in on me, asking me about Jessica and my rivalry, Kate Howard, and, by far the strangest, Elvis. My pale white hands shaded my eyes as I stood frozen in the lights.

"Renesmee!" I heard someone call. Jacob.

He shoved through the throngs of people and wrapped me into his arms as he shoved our way, much like a football player, to the outside doors. Luckily, he drove. It was safe to sit in his car as he sped off down the road, rubber burning.

"Are you okay?" he asked once we arrived outside my building.

I nodded, my eyes trained on the road. "Could've been worse."

"What was that all about?" he pressed.

I shrugged. "Rivalry. Quite common in the fashion world. It'll be plastered over every station tomorrow, and then nothing the day afterwards. No big deal."

He shook his head. "It is to me."

I unlocked the door and climbed out of his old fashioned Rabbit. "Well, thank you. But it's not necessart. I have to go. Goodnight!" I rushed my goodbye as I took off back into the building.

Exciting night.

Author's Note: Sorry it's so short! I wrote most of this a while ago, but it's late and I didn't feel like writing, but I had to BECAUSE I wanted to tell you my joint account with Laurel, La Smarticles, is up. Leave a PM for your questions. And, in order to make sure you were on the profile, if you want any extras for this or any of my stories (different POVS, background stories that I WILL NOT publish in this, etc.) I am now taking a few requests and will post on either account. Check out my new story Getting to Know Daddy! We're playing the song below for bells, and it's been playing in my head ALL day!

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon? Or ask the grinning bobcat why he grinned? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Reviews? Comments? Click that button!

--Lauren :D