A/N: I apologize for this being a short chapter. I felt this deserved its own chapter. While I can't promise Edward will be likable in this entire story, my goal is to make him understandable. I hope this chapter starts to do that and that I can continue to do it throughout the rest of the story.

Enjoy and review please!

Chapter 10:

Trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed,
And somehow I got caught up in between.
Between my pride and my promise.
Between my lies and how the truth gets in the way.
And things I want to say to you get lost before they come,
The only thing that's worse than one is none.

-Linkin Park

Edward's POV

Two weeks. Two mother-fucking weeks.

Two weeks of no Bella. Two weeks of no sex. And two weeks that I was slowly driving myself insane. In the large scheme of things Bella and I had been apart longer; but it was usually followed up by longer periods of time together. This time, however, we had been apart for a month followed by one measly night together. It was brutal.

We were both insanely busy and would sometimes go a day or two without even speaking on the phone. We would try to text each other as much as possible but even that was put on hold as Isabella was constantly in and out of interviews. Half the time, on the nights that we both could actually talk on the phone, we were so exhausted that we'd lie in our hotel rooms just listening to each other breath on the other end of the line while we watched TV to wind down.

Being on tour was supposed to be my favorite time. I got to travel around to different cities all over the world, rocking out every night with my two best friends. What could be better than that? This was our fourth tour and every time the dynamics in our group changed. The first time we toured we were young and mostly did college scenes. Emmett, Jasper, and I spent many nights partying at various local bars with sorority girls. Our next tour had been on a much larger scale. By that point, we were already mainstream and the three of us could walk into a nightclub in any city and immediately get VIP service. I rarely interacted with the locals because I had my fair share of supermodels and actresses flown in to any location. And the third tour was the one where I met and fell head-over-heels for Bella. The band continued to still party and hang out; but I also spent more time alone with Bella.

This present tour, however, I was becoming painfully more aware with each day how alone I felt. Emmett and Rosalie were stuck at the hip the minute he'd step off stage. Jasper had fallen hard for Alice and the two had quickly become inseparable. And then there was me – the third fucking wheel. What had become my favorite thing to do was now turning into a prison. How the hell was I supposed to enjoy my own fucking tour when I had no one to enjoy it with?

After we were done a concert we would either all go out to a club to wind-down or go our separate ways. I hated when the guys decided to spend time with their girls. I was left to go back to my room and wait for a phone call from Isabella like a fucking love-sick teenager. It was pathetic.

So I started going out every night – only to drink myself numb. My options were to either raid the liquor cabinet in my hotel room or park myself on a bar stool for the rest of the night. Both were still done in solitary confinement. It was almost worse to go out and drink - seeing hundreds of people around me, wanting to talk to me, but still feeling all alone. God forbid I even talk to another girl while I was out. Not that I would want to anyway; but the media would have a field day with it.

When I had told Isabella to trust me in going public with our relationship I was being serious. But to be honest, I hadn't quite expected the reaction we received. When The Volturi first started getting media recognition I was immediately pinpointed as the rebellious heartthrob. My good looks and charm were able to let me say whatever I wanted, do whatever I wanted, and be with whomever I wanted with little questions asked. At first I was hesitant to be portrayed in that image. I could only imagine what my parents thought and I didn't like that it was singling me out amongst Emmett and Jasper. But as time went on, I quickly saw the perks to being labeled the "bad boy." Women threw themselves at me, guys thought I was the shit, and it allowed me to get away with a lot of bullshit antics. What guy in his young twenties wouldn't want that kind of opportunity?

Bella had been worried that she would be seen as the villain for dating me. Since she was still fairly unknown, she didn't want to be viewed as a fame whore. I disregarded her fears as much as possible. But the truth was, (while I would never admit it to her) I also expected the media to portray her in that light. But I had a plan. When the media started to attack her, I would immediately go on the defense. I would protect her and make it clear that nobody was allowed to mess with her. Thus, I would be seen as the hero in the situation and Bella would have the respect that I demanded to be given to her. Sure it may have made me sound like an egotistical prick…but you either get played by the media or you play them. In my eyes, it was a win-win situation.

Imagine my surprise when everyone immediately fell in love with Isabella. I, honestly, shouldn't have been surprised. I mean, hell, she won me over right away. But it was the way they portrayed me in the relationship that I couldn't stand. Bella was not like the typical girls I had been seen with over the past years. As one magazine labeled her, she was the "painfully beautiful girl next door." So the fact that I was suddenly tied to a good girl like her meant one thing to the rest of the world: Edward Cullen was settling down and Isabella Swan was the girl to bring me to my knees.

Isabella's stark contrast to my bad-boy image made many speculate that she was too good for me. And while I knew deep down she WAS too good for me, I would never admit that to the rest of the world. The final straw was when Emmett showed me a magazine with the two of us the cover and the god-awful caption: "The Lion Fell in Love with the Lamb." The boys had a good laugh at it; but it fucking pissed me off. It was like I was a god-damned neutered dog – like Isabella was the girl to finally train me. It infuriated me.

I couldn't dare tell anyone else about how I felt either. If I said something to the guys it would make me look like a pompous ass. And God forbid I mentioned my insecurities to Bella. She would immediately take it far too personal and think I was unhappy about her success – which was never a factor.

So I continued to go out, relying on alcohol to get me through the long nights. I mostly kept a distance from everyone. Occasionally girls would come and ask for me to buy them a drink or try to convince me to leave with them; but for the most part people understood that my glares meant leave me the fuck alone. And just like every night the past couple nights; once I got myself good and sloshed, Tanya would saddle up next to me, hoping to take advantage of my inebriated state. As always, that was my last-call to go home. I would shrug her off and ignore her whiny protests as I stumbled back to the hotel.

On this particular night I made it back to the room and went straight for the mini-bar, still not feeling quite drunk enough to go to sleep. I flicked on the TV and went to the recorded programs, where I had DVR'd The Late Show. After making myself a Jack and Coke, I stripped off my clothes, got under the covers, and turned on Bella's performance. She was fucking sexy as hell in her sequin dress and black tights. I absent-mindedly reached my hand under the covers and began to stroke myself, getting the only type of release I was able to find the past few weeks. In the back of my mind I was painfully aware that I was just like any other cock sucking perv; except that I was jerking off to my own girlfriend. But in that moment we all had something in common – we all wanted Isabella and couldn't have her.

I woke up the next morning (or early afternoon, I should say) in a groggy haze. I hadn't drunk enough to get completely hung-over; but it was still enough to make me feel like shit. I took a quick shower to try and revive my senses and then booted up my computer to find out what news I had missed in the morning.

After checking CNN and ESPN, I clicked onto the daily gossip blogs. There wasn't much news for the day, aside from Mel Gibson making an asshole out of himself again for one reason or another. When I clicked over to TMZ, though, I was surprised to see pictures of Isabella in New York City. There were two pictures side-by-side with the caption "Isabella Swan taking on the Big Apple." The first picture showed her sitting in the corner of a dark bar with a guy whose back was turned to the camera. The second picture was her standing by the doors of the bar, giving the guy a hug. His back was still turned to the camera so I was unable to make out who he was – but it certainly wasn't Charlie. I read the text underneath the pictures: "Isabella Swan was seen out in New York City after her performance on The Late Show last night. She caught up with a mysterious man for a few drinks at her hotel bar before giving him a friendly goodbye. We wonder what Edward Cullen has to say about this?"

I, instinctively, felt a bit a jealousy rise up in me and then immediately felt ashamed. I picked up the phone and dialed Bella's number, fully expecting to get her voicemail, but was surprised when I heard her pick up.

"Hello?" she said groggily.

"I just woke up and it's 1pm here – what are you doing asleep?" I teased.

"I was up at the ass-crack of dawn doing radio interviews this morning. I was just taking a nap."

"How'd they go?"

"Good. The typical questions – nothing out of the ordinary." She let out a loud yawn.

"Do you want me to let you get back to sleep?"

"No!" she said, sounding much more alert. "This is the first time I get to hear your voice in 2 days. Real Edward is much better than Dream Edward."

"Oh? And what were you dreaming about me?" I asked, curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know, you perv."

I chuckled to myself, knowing I had just called myself those same words last night. "You don't know the half of it."

"So what are you up to this afternoon?" she asked.

"I was actually just catching up on all the news. You know you're on TMZ."

I heard her stifle another yawn. "What else is new? So what do they have to say about us this time?"

"Not us, darling. Just you…or you and some mystery man, I should say."

"Can I believe my ears? Is Edward Cullen getting jealous?"

"Who is he?" I asked, ignoring her teasing.

"If I had a dollar for all the times I could have said that to you…" she trailed off and I could tell by the slight rise in her voice that she was starting to get agitated.

"And all those times you wanted to keep us a secret - so I was just going out and doing what I normally did. But ever since we went public I have not been photographed ONCE with another girl, Isabella. And it's not because I'm worried about my image. It's because from here on out we're a team. Whatever I do affects your image and whatever you do affects my image – and I do not want to look like a fucking patsy while you get photographed with every Tom, Dick, and Harry."

I could hear her sharp intake of breath and could tell she was taken aback by my harsh words. I immediately cursed at myself for lashing out on her for no reason. Great way to control your fucking emotions, Cullen.

She remained silent for a moment before she finally spoke up. "His name is Jacob Black. He's the reporter for Rolling Stone who wrote my article; which is fucking amazing. I met up with him for a drink to thank him for such a great cover story. It was nothing Edward and I'm truly hurt that you don't see that."

I sighed and pulled at my hair, frustrated with myself. "I know that, Bella. I trust you and I know it didn't mean anything. I'm sorry…I just know how vicious rumors are spread. Just be careful – the media will pounce on us the minute they have a picture or story to allude that one of us is cheating on the other."

"Is something else going on?" she asked, warily. "You've seemed on edge the past couple days. I know our schedules have been super hectic, but I've got all the time in the world right now…you can talk to me about anything, you know."

I immediately felt a new wave of guilt hit me for all my selfish thoughts over the past days. God I love this woman so much and I don't even deserve her. "I'm fine, Bells – honestly. I'm just stressed out from the tour and missing you. I really am sorry for lashing out on you just now. You didn't deserve that."

"I understand. And don't get too stressed – we'll see each other in 3 days. That's something to look forward to!"

"I'm counting down the minutes."

"Is everything else going ok on tour? You and the guys are fine?" she asked. I could tell she was still fishing for a reason as to why I was so on edge.

"It's the same old shit as always on tour. You know the drill by now. It's actually pretty boring. So instead of talking about my uneventful tour, I'd much rather hear everything that you've been up to the past couple days."

We spent the next hour on the phone catching up on each others' lives. She raved on about how much she loved New York and how confused Charlie was getting trying to navigate the big city. She told me her next single had been decided and she would begin shooting the music video for it in Los Angeles the following week. We talked about which radio personalities and TV hosts we liked the most and which ones were assholes who were just looking to get a rise out of the interviewer. I didn't want the conversation to end. Just hearing her voice and talking about stupid shit with her helped calm my nerves.

Bella had just started to try and convince me that we needed to get a dog after we moved in together, when there was a loud bang on my door.

"Wake your sorry ass up! We have a meet-and-greet in a half hour!" Rosalie called.

"I'm up, bitch! I'll be down in 10 minutes." I yelled through the door.

"That time again?" Bella sighed.

"Unfortunately."

"Hey, I know it sucks that we don't get as much time to talk right now – but we're both doing what we love and having a good time, right?"

I paused as I thought of how to respond, realizing that this was her last way of trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Oh you're good, baby, but I know you too well to figure out what's up your sleeve.

"Of course," I lied.

She sighed and I knew in that moment that she also knew me too well to know that I was lying. She didn't press it.

"I'll see you in three days. I love you."

I hung up the phone and threw on a fresh pair of clothes before glancing in the mirror one last time. I took a long look at myself, trying to figure out what was going on with me. I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair. I could do three more days of waiting to see Isabella – that wasn't too hard. It was the rest of the tour away from her that I was worried about.