This Shameless Moment
-Part Two-
Alice & Jasper

My visions had all but disappeared since Edward started to live with us. Strangely, I missed them. I'd had them my entire life and hated them, tried to rid myself of them, and tried to live like I didn't have them. I had only told my father about them when I was little, and he had told me it was better to not tell anyone about the visions. He had said it was because it was my special secret talent, and that if other children knew they didn't have it, it would make them feel bad. But when I got older, I realized it was because if I told anyone, I'd been thrown into a crazy house if I went around babbling about my visions of the future. I had hated the visions, hated keeping them secret. But now that they were few and far between, I missed them.

I'd have the occasional vision of something- For instance, I knew Bella would ask me to help her pick out a dress for going out Friday night, and I knew what I would pick for her to wear. But that was the only vision I'd had in a week. Typically, I would have two or three a day.

When I was fourteen years old, that is when I started to actively combat the visions. I discovered that they never occurred when I was drunk or high. So, armed with a seventeen year old sister and a sixteen year old brother that could pass for twenty-three, and more money than most people make in a lifetime, I made my foray into the world of alcohol and drugs. Coke mostly. Weed made me too mellow and contemplative- I was always scared that it might actually bring on visions. But coke made me alert and frantic and my mind raced with euphoria. Hallucinogens were okay, but reminded me too much of what I was trying to rid myself of to be a favorite.

I met Bella Swan when I was eighteen. For most freshmen in college, that first year of total freedom is when they go off the deep end of binge drinking and drug use. But I had been living like that since I was a high schooler. It was exhausting. And while I definitely was not trading in my martini glass for Friday nights in the library, no I would never do that, I was tired of the constant state of being in an altered frame of mind. Bella was my out. She was sweet, funny in an understated way, and nonjudgmental, which was refreshing. Most of the people I ran into on campus knew about me and my reputation- Heidi and my faces had been splashed across local gossip and society pages all through high school- and sneered or turned up their noses at me.

Bella and I shared a single class that first semester, but we became incredibly close. The friendship was balanced. She was the quiet good girl, while I was the wild bad influence. Some weekends we hung out with friends and just chilled, a concept I found difficult to grasp at first, others we went out and gave the magazines something to talk about, a concept Bella found horrifying. Sophomore year we moved in together in a small apartment. Heidi was not supportive of this development, but I knew that if I stayed with Heidi, I would never shed my image. With Bella, I was free to change somethings and free to keep somethings the same. I missed Heidi, but I knew this was for the best.

Also, living with Bella meant living with more sober time, and ergo more visions. For the past few years I was starting to get used to the onslaught again, I hadn't really had to deal with them for so long. At first it was difficult, but right about the time Edward came, I had learned to live with them. I still didn't like them, but unless I wanted to fry every last brain cell I had left, I had to just accept them. But then Edward came, and they were so rare that I thought something might be wrong with me.

When Bella suggested we go out to celebrate Leah's return from her soccer clinic, I was, naturally, ecstatic. I still loved drinking and dancing as much as I ever did, I just realized they didn't have to be nightly or even weekly occurrences.

We got to the club. I drank and danced. My last memory was watching Edward talk to Heidi while Bella and I danced. The rest was blank until now.

I woke up in a bedroom that was not mine. I sat up, blinking the sleep from my eyes. The room looked like it belonged to a six year old boy. There were race cars and super heroes adorning the walls. The sheets had Batman on them.

I had gone home with various kinds of guys before, but never had I met a guy who was unashamed of the fact that he was still a child inside to such an extent. Apparently this guy was very open about it all. Good for him.

It was then I realized that I was still dressed, right down to my Jimmy Choos. This was confusing. What kind of guy brings me home and gets me in his bed, but then doesn't bother to seal the deal?

I quickly got out of the bed and started to look for my things so I could get them and then get out of here, hopefully avoiding any awkward morning after conversations. Somehow it was more awkward that apparently nothing had happened between us than if something had. Did that make me a slut?

I couldn't find my purse. Maybe it was in the kitchen or something.

I left the bedroom and saw some stairs, which I followed. The were pictures in the house of a family- a mother, father, two older girls, and two younger boys. Did I come home with one of the girls? They were the only ones old enough. I had only gone home with a girl once, and I remembered nothing of the ordeal at all.

The stairs ended at the front door. I walked towards where I expected the kitchen to be.

"Going somewhere?" a cool and collected voice said behind me. I spun around to see a boy, or rather, a man, standing there. The first thing I noticed was his bright red eyes. They were strange- frightening. Then my eyes followed the curve of his alabaster skin stretched taught over his sharp cheekbones. He had dirty blonde hair that was just long enough to be pulled into a ponytail. He wore faded blue jeans and a grey shirt that had a few small but barely noticeable holes in it. The way he stood was offensive, I felt as if I should run, but I didn't.

"Oh, I was just getting my purse. I'll be out of your hair in no time, don't worry," I smiled at him as I continued to walk towards the kitchen. I mentally thanked myself for not having sex with old Red Eye. Fucking creep.

It was then I felt him grab my arm, "You won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Don't worry," he mimicked me.

I made a disgusted face. "Excuse me, but I really do need to be going. Give me your number, and I'll call later."

He just laughed as he pulled me along with him as he walked towards the kitchen. I was headed that way anyways, couldn't he just let me go? We got to the kitchen and I was surprised to see two other men. Men with the same eerie red eyes and starch white skin, save the one who had more of an olive tone to his skin, but it had a ghostly pallor to it regardless. One man looking like this- slightly strange, but, eh, ok. An entire group of men looking like this- No fucking way. Alarms went off in my mind. There was no way this could be good.

"She's finally up," the boy who had dragged me to the kitchen said, his hand now tightly wrapped around my wrist. "What's the plan?"

My eyes widened and darted from man to man. "Plan? What's going on? Who are you all?"

"I'm Laurent," said the one with olive toned skin. He was sitting at the table, pen in one hand, the crossword in the other. "That fine fellow you've already met is James. This is Stefan," he motioned to the man sitting at the other end of the table. His hands were behind his head and his feet were up on the table. He was barefoot. His hair was black and had a slight curl to it. He seemed to look right through me. As if he saw me, but seeing nothing of interest, continued to look through the space where I stood. It made me feel like I was two inches tall. "And this is Jasper."

Jasper was standing and leaning against the so-dark-it-was-almost-black green countertop. He had short honey blonde hair. He was tall and muscular, but in a lean way, not a bulky way. His face was almost expressionless, except for a faint glimmer of a cruel smile. He was tapping his fingers on the counter as he looked me over and seemed to be thinking about something. He made me nervous for two reasons. One, there seemed to be a monstrous amount of ruthlessness underneath his calm exterior. And two, he felt vaguely familiar. Like I had seen him in a vision. But I knew I would remember that face and that icy stare.

"Okay, great to be on a first name basis with you guys, but I really need to get home," I replied. I tried to yank my wrist away from James, as he was apparently called, but he did not waiver in the least, but instead tightened his grip and pulled me back towards himself. I heard a crack. Then I felt a searing pain travel up my arm until a scream left my mouth. "Oh my god! My wrist! My wrist!" Tears were starting to form in my eyes from the pain. "You broke my wrist! Let go of me!" I yelled. I wanted to pull away, but doing so would only mean more pain. "Let go of me, you son of a bitch!"

"Let her go," Jasper passively said. He seemed more irritated by my shrieks than moved to pity by my tears.

James let go of me, and I quickly started to head for the front door. Forget the purse. I needed to get out of here now.

I got to the door to discover Stefan standing front of it. "What?" I mumbled, confused. How did he...? "Move out of my way. You can't keep me here."

"Yes, I can," Stefan smiled. "You're not going anywhere."

I was waiting for my adrenaline rush. That surge of energy people get during dangerous situations. I definitely felt the fear and the pain coursing through my veins. If only adrenaline could show up to the party.

"Let me out right now! You can't, you cant...Kidnap me! Don't you know who my father is? My face will be on every major news network in the country. You'll get caught!" I yelled, tears rolling down my face.

"We don't know who you are, we don't know who your daddy is. And frankly we don't care about any of that. As for getting caught, let them catch us. We'll see who wins that little match up," Stefan crossed his arms as he looked down at me.

I was so confused. "What do you want with me then? My father can get you money if that's what you want. Millions. I promise. Just please let me go. I won't press charges or anything," my tone went from demanding to begging.

"I can't think of a single thing your father's money can buy that we'd want," I heard James' voice coming from beside me. The pain in my wrist was unrelenting.

"My wrist," I started to cry more heavily now. "It hurts so bad. Please, help me."

Stefan took my wrist, much more gently than I had expected him to, and inspected it. He ran his fingers over the skin. Even the slightest pressure made me yelp in pain. He rested his fingers over my pulse. He paused for a few seconds before looking back at me. He abruptly dropped my wrist, the breeze from the air whipping around it from the fall putting me in more pain. "You'll live," he muttered. I started to cry even more.

James and Stefan looked at each other. "Stop crying or a broken wrist will be the least of your problems," James said sharply. He started to shove me back towards the kitchen.

In the kitchen Laurent still sat with his crossword, and Jasper still stood at the counter, the same calculating look on his face. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to slap them all. Actually, I wanted to shoot all of them in the kneecap. I was so mad. And scared. And in pain.

I held my wrist to my chest. Maybe I'd just pass out from the pain. "So what's the plan?" Stefan looked to Jasper.

"What do you all want with me? You don't want money? Are you just in this because you're all just fucking sick in the head?" I asked, trying not to imagine what horrors they had in store for me. I wanted my visions back. I wanted to know that everything would be okay. And if it wasn't going to be okay, I would like to at least know what was coming so I could better prepare myself to handle it. I desperately tried to have a vision. I looked for anything. But there was nothing.

Was that why I hadn't been having visions lately? Because I didn't have a future? Would this be my end? I tucked my hair behind my ears with my good hand nervously. I was going to die. Oh my god. And I was only twenty.

A/N: So it took me forever to write this. Actually, it only took me like 2-4 hours to write this, lol. But it took me forever to decide how I wanted to write it. I really wanted to give Alice a voice that was distinctive...That when I read this or read Alice's dialogue, that it was different from how Bella and Edward narrate and how they say things. However, I don't know if I've really succeeded in that here..Maybe as Alice's narration goes on she will become more distinct. Anyways, thanks for your reviews. Sorry I've been slacking on updates, I just haven't been feeling very motivated to write lately..But now that I think I've plunged into Alice/Jasper, the motivation will come more easily. :]