Bella was used to enduring a wide assortment of unpleasantness during the course of a project. She dealt with long hours on set and a constantly changing schedule. Mental fatigue from memorizing pages of script and immersing herself in a character often plagued her, and physical exhaustion was a given. She even had suffered several injuries, although thankfully, they were minor; the most serious had been a sprained ankle.
But never before had she deliberately inflicted pain on one of her castmates. She was doing it to Edward today – take after take.
Bella didn't believe she was the actual cause of his distress – she wasn't that conceited – but it was obvious to her that something was affecting him, and she seemed to be the trigger.
If she hadn't come to know him so well, she might think that Edward was delivering the performance of his life. As he stormed up to her and Caius, the fury he possessed nearly made her shrink back in fear. Bella was worried about Max in his role as Laurent when he stepped in front of them to block Riley's advance. Edward looked positively murderous, and it seemed he wanted to snatch Bella up in his arms and run away.
But when she spoke her crushing lines – theirs had only ever been a business relationship, she had been playing him all along, and James had offered her a better deal – the hurt and betrayal in Edward's eyes tore at her soul. It was as if she could see his heart shatter into pieces before her. She had to fight the urge to run to him and promise anything to erase the pain from the piercing emerald green.
Bella barely made it through the first take without bursting into tears, but by the ninth time through, she felt numb and broken. She didn't know how she could continue when Edward stared at her with that vulnerable, tormented expression.
Luckily for her, Bella's involvement in the scene was minimal after that particular take. Alice praised the cast's efforts, and the remainder of the day was spent filming transition and long range shots that did not require anything other than her physical presence.
That evening, when Bella returned to her dressing room, she debated a course of action. She had seen Edward's car on the ride from the backlot's manufactured city street set, so there was a good chance he was still in his dressing room. Her heart hammered at the idea of facing him alone after yesterday's embarrassment, but she couldn't leave in good conscious without at least checking on him.
Bella tapped on his door, but there was no answer. She repeated her knocking once again but with increased force.
"Edward? It's me, Bella."
After this failed attempt, she presumed he had left but tried the handle anyway. To her surprise, it turned without resistance, and so she nudged open the door.
"Edward, are you in here?"
When Bella peeked into his room, her mouth opened in shock at the scene that greeted her. The coffee table had been pulled up close to the couch, and on its surface were several shot glasses, an open bottle of Cutty Sark, and large puddles of spilt scotch. Edward was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, and one hand swirled a few drops of amber liquid in a lowball glass. The other hand clutched some sort of rolled up card.
"Um, Edward?" Bella stepped in the room and locked the door behind her. She didn't think he'd want any accidental witnesses of his current state. "What's going on?"
Edward chuckled dryly. "Come on, Bella. You're a smart girl. What does it look like?" He drained the last of the scotch and plunked the glass on the table.
"I thought you didn't drink." Hesitantly, she took a seat in the armchair closest to him.
"I don't." Another caustic laugh. "Well, except now. And one other time."
Bella glanced at the yellow label of the bottle. "Then that explains your choice of brand. Cutty Sark – really, Edward?"
He picked up the bottle and tipped it over the tops of the glasses. Scotch splashed over the rims and onto the table. "What? It had a ship on it. It was cheap."
Bella wasn't even going to question why a man who had topped last year's list of 'Forbes Highest Paid Actors' would care about the cost of scotch. She eyed the bottle's contents and noticed that about half of it was gone. Edward seemed to be holding his own at the moment, but if he really was the inexperienced drinker he claimed to be, she would need to cut him off soon.
"First things first, where are your keys?"
"Huh?" Edward stared at her as if trying to solve a differential equation.
"Keys," she restated while glancing around the room. She spotted the item in question on the vanity counter and crossed the room to collect it.
"Come on, Bella. I'd never be dumb enough to drive like this," he scoffed.
"Perfect. Then you don't need these." She stuffed the key ring in her back pocket. "I assume no one else knows about your little party of one? You realize I'm going to have to call Emmett."
"Or…how about you not call Emmett? Trust me, he'd only make the situation worse." Edward lifted a shot glass to his mouth and tossed it back. "Ugh!" he coughed. "People like this stuff?"
"Cutty? Generally not, from what I hear." Bella smiled wryly. "But I have a feeling you didn't buy it to savor the taste."
Edward lifted his clouded eyes to meet hers. "Right as usual, Ms. Swan," he agreed quietly.
Bella returned his gaze with a level stare of her own. "Speaking of which, do you want to talk about what's troubling you, or are you going to repress it, as usual?"
When she saw the spark of anger in his eyes, Bella thought he would lash out at her or fall back onto his practice of sullen avoidance. Instead, he downed another shot of scotch, closed his eyes, and then slowly held out his clenched fist.
"Twenty years today," he whispered. His fingers opened to reveal a crumpled color photograph.
Gently, Bella took the picture from his hand. A woman and child, both with reddish-brown hair and green eyes, smiled back at her.
"Is this…Elizabeth? Your mother?"
Edward let his head fall into his hands. "Yes, she is…was…" He trailed off.
"She's beautiful. You both look so happy." Bella sighed in remorse as she thought of the tragedy that would befall the innocent child in the photo. "How old were you in this picture?"
"Four, almost five. She…she died a year after this was taken." His voice broke into a sob.
Bella put a hand on his forearm. "Edward, I'm so sorry."
"I was there, you know," he choked out in a whisper. "…when she died."
Stifling a gasp, she did the only thing that occurred to her. She squeezed his arm and waited in respectful silence.
Edward seemed to find comfort in her touch as his breathing calmed. She couldn't read his expression, however; his head was still cradled in his hands.
"Dad was away for work, like always," he intoned, his voice now flat and detached. "I couldn't…I didn't want to believe. If Carlisle hadn't found us…"
Edward slowly sat up, and Bella looked away when she noticed his red-rimmed eyes and wet lashes. She withdrew her hand and stared at the floor while Edward took a few deep breaths.
"I vaguely remember the day that photo was taken," he commented as he gestured toward the picture now lying in her lap. "We had just finished touring the school where I would start kindergarten in the fall."
Bella wasn't surprised by the shift of topic. She could tell he wanted to move past the subject of his mother's death.
"Were you excited about kindergarten?"
Edward glanced at her with mild curiosity. "I don't remember. I doubt it, though." He grimaced. "I wasn't a fan of change. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "I hated the end of summer. School seemed like prison to me. I only wanted to run around with Angela or read all day."
"I would have pegged you as a teacher's pet."
"I did okay in school, but I found it slow and boring. When I started acting and switched to tutors, learning became much more interesting. It was also nice getting away from the other kids. Not that they were mean or anything – I just never seemed to fit in with the group."
Edward reached for the lowball glass and took a long drink. "I find that hard to believe," he snickered bitterly. "Not fitting in?You have no idea…" He stopped abruptly and finished off the glass.
"Tell me, then," Bella urged softly. She carefully placed the photograph on the table.
Edward didn't respond, however, and stared at the faded image. His scowl and unfixed gaze indicated that he wasn't with her in the present but instead reliving unpleasant memories.
She watched him in silence for quite some time until he groaned and slumped sideways on the couch. His long arms dangled over the side.
"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.
When he suddenly burst into laughter, Bella frowned in dubious surprise.
"I'm just fucking ducky," Edward snorted as he stretched out on the cushions. "Why shouldn't I be? I'm young, good-looking, and ridiculously rich. My career is golden, and it's barely begun. I've got hundreds of thousands of fans and one smokin' hot girlfriend. King of the World, right here." He thumped his chest and laughed again.
Bella saw her opening and wasn't going to shy away. "About Heidi –"
"Don't." There was no trace of joviality in his voice now.
"But she-"
Edward shot her a chilling glare. "Leave. It. Alone."
Bella swallowed her anger. If it was any other day in his life, she would be raining fire and brimstone upon him. She began to count backwards from 100.
He must have noticed her struggle because he shook his head and attempted to make amends.
"I'm sorry. I told you it's something I can't discuss."
She had only reached 86 and was still seething. "Can't…or won't?" she snapped.
Edward turned to face the ceiling and covered his eyes with his arms. Bella recalled the one other time she had entered this room; he had been in this exact position. That discussion hadn't gone well, either.
She didn't think he planned to respond and stood to leave. Her phone was in her dressing room, and she would call Emmett immediately upon retrieving it. He could come and play babysitter to his client. Bella had taken one step toward the door when Edward's voice stopped her.
"When you were a child, did you ever play the game of chicken?" he asked in a conversational tone.
She turned around.
"No. Why?"
"It's such a simple game with simple rules, but the choices and consequences involved have implications in the studies of a broad range of fields."
Bella's brow wrinkled in confusion. She didn't understand why he had brought up the topic or where he was going with it.
"Okay," she responded so he would know she was listening.
"This two-player game is an important model in game theory, which basically studies how decisions are made. The chicken example demonstrates the typical stupidity of male bravado, like the cliff scene in Rebel Without a Cause."
"I see," replied Bella, even though she didn't.
"Personally, I prefer the hawk-dove scenario. Each of the two players has a choice between being a hawk or a dove. If both players choose to be a dove, there is a draw. No winners, no losers, no harm, no foul.
"Now, if one chooses to be a hawk and the other selects dove, the hawk will win the game by killing the dove. But if both pick hawk, a fight to the death will occur, and the winner is decided by chance. While the victorious hawk survives, it is seriously injured."
"If only everyone chose the dove," Bella murmured. She returned to the chair.
"Yeah, but then stagnancy would set in," Edward countered. "Competition for resources. Survival of the fittest. Evolution. That's how a species improves itself and adapts to a changing environment. And more relevant to a human society, it's how an individual gets ahead in life."
"I understand the concept, but I'm not sure why you've mentioned it."
His arms still blocked his eyes from view, but Bella detected the sardonic smile on his lips. "There are times when one is forced into the game without a choice. Death is a terrible fate, but for some, being injured is a far worse outcome. So, choosing to be a dove is the only acceptable alternative."
She carefully selected her words. "I suppose it depends on what's at stake – what 'winning' means to each person. Some things are worth taking the risk, and injuries can heal."
"Maybe. But even with the best care, they'll still leave a scar."
Bella heard the anguish in his words and passed a hand over her face to stay the prickling tears in her eyes. Whatever had happened to Edward, whatever continued to haunt him was something too big to handle alone, and she desperately wished he would let someone help…soon. If Emmett was correct, Edward's ability to cope was weakening.
Thinking about Emmett triggered the memory of another conversation they had. In Chicago, he stated his belief that Bella somehow played a role in Edward's notably different behavior. However, he couldn't decide if her effect on the actor was positive or negative. While she obviously had nothing to do with Heidi's presence or Edward's father's cancer, Bella hadn't noticed anything constructive stemming from her interactions with him, either.
"In Chicago, you said it wouldn't be possible for us to be friends. Is that because of me?" She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but her voice betrayed her. "Edward, am I…am I bad for you somehow?"
Grimacing, he slowly sat up and reached for the remaining full shot glass. An unsteady hand tossed the liquid into his mouth.
"My dad would disown me if he found out I was drinking this crap," Edward mumbled to himself. Then he sighed and reached for the bottle.
Bella stood to remove it from his loose grip before he could refill the glasses. Edward watched as she placed the bottle on the vanity.
"There you go – that was a good thing to do for me," he grumpily pointed out and flopped backwards on the couch. "I think."
Scowling, she opened various drawers of the vanity until she found some Advil. After removing a bottled water from the mini-fridge, she held it and two tan pills in front of Edward.
"Take it. Preemptive strike." There was no room for argument.
He accepted the ibuprofen but glanced at the water with an expectant look. Bella rolled her eyes and twisted off the cap.
His mouth curled into a lopsided grin after he took a swig from the bottle.
"More virtuous acts done for my benefit. See? You're my guardian angel." Playfully tugging on her hand, he motioned to the couch. "Sit, though. Your seraphic hovering is going to bring on my headache that much sooner."
A thrill raced through Bella's arm at his touch, and for one uncertain moment, she battled her desire to be close to him. With a regretful shake of the head, she gently slipped out of his grasp and returned to her seat in the armchair.
Edward's smile became self-mocking. "Too good. I rest my case."
"Is that your honest answer to my question?"
"Are you bad for me?" A pause. "Yes, you are, but not in the way you think." Another hesitation.
She narrowed her eyes at his delay. "So the way I'm not good is…?"
"No! You are! Good, I mean. You're bad because…you're good…" His eyes had grown wide, and Bella suppressed a smirk at his flustered expression. A hand raked through his hair as he sucked in a deep breath. "What I mean is that you're too good, and that's bad for me."
"That made very little sense."
"I know. Look, I…" Edward suddenly doubled over and clenched his stomach. "Ow. Damn."
Bella grabbed a wastebasket and pushed it between his legs. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"This isn't a compliment, but I'm surprised you're handling your drink as well as you are. You're quite eloquent for a rookie drinker who just downed half a fifth of cheap scotch."
"Luck, I guess. At least it's you who's with me. Last time-"
He suddenly paled and froze with a look of horror on his face.
"Edward?"
Her fingers lost their grip on his shoulder when he lurched forward to vomit into the trashcan. Bella rubbed small circles on his back until he sat up again and then handed him the water bottle.
"Thank you," he rasped. His eyelids were drooping, and Bella realized how exhausted he appeared.
"You need to rest. I'm going to help you lie down, okay?" She guided his legs onto the cushions and placed a pillow under his head. After removing the blue fleece blanket from the back of the couch, she spread it over his body.
The room was quiet as she cleaned up the alcohol mess on the table and emptied the contents of the wastebasket into the toilet. Edward followed her movements with half-closed eyes.
Bella spoke just to keep the silence at bay. "I'm not sure if it's good or sad that this is the first time I've dealt with a drinking binge's aftermath. Maybe I'll have to hit some parties with Angela the next time I visit her at school."
"No, don't," Edward slurred. He sounded as if he was barely awake. "It's a good…you're…good."
"Mm-hmm." She tapped out two more pills and placed them on the table with a new bottle of water. "Oh! How about some music? What's on your iPod? Classical, of course…jazz…hmm, the Beatles – always required…Billy Joel, Foo Fighters, Linkin Park, Gypsy Kings…Jay-Z? Huh, eclectic mix."
Edward stirred. "Brahms…choral…"
"You remembered." She smiled as his eyes fluttered shut. "Good choice."
"Bel-la?"
"Yes, Edward?" When she sat down in the chair, his disheveled hair was only an arm's length away.
"You were…since…that night…" he mumbled into the pillow.
"I was what?" The messy bronze made her fingers twitch.
"First…yesterday…"
"It's okay, you can tell me some other time." She touched the silken tresses.
"Only…" He inhaled deeply and the final coherent word came out as a sigh of air. "You…"
Bella brushed loose strands off his brow and regarded the now tranquil countenance. In this quiet state of rest, he looked so much like the image of his younger self – a child who hadn't been present when his mother died, a boy who didn't have to worry about making difficult decisions, one who didn't have to isolate himself to keep from hurting.
A tear slipped out of Bella's eye as she leaned over to brush her lips against Edward's forehead. She sat back and touched a finger to the yellowed edge of the photo. With sorrow darkening her face, she gazed on the beautiful woman who had left the world far too early.
"Rest in peace, Elizabeth."
I apologize if I haven't come to a resolution as quickly as some would like. I'm sorta learning as I go along, and my goal for this story is to get a feeling for how this writing business (and the world of fan fiction) works. Thanks for bearing with me! :)
~winterhorses