Important please read: This story is a sort of crossover between Twilight by Stephenie Meyer and the play/movie titled, Closer by Patrick Marber. I do not own the characters or the storyline. Although this crossover will be similar to the above play/movie with our beloved twilight characters in place of the original main characters, it will not follow the exact original Closer storyline. There are some scenes that will be very similar but none that are exactly like the play/movie.


Chapter One: Hello Stranger

2016

(B)

When I woke up today, I knew that it was going to be a significant day. Don't ask me why but there are days I wake, and I know that the day will bring something significant.

I could feel it in my bones, there was electricity along my skin. There was something in the air. There was a universal shift. I knew that today would be a significant day…I just didn't know that this day would irrevocably mangle my life and who I was as a young woman, for the next three years.

I didn't realize it would start with me getting hit by a taxi.

One minute I was trying to determine if I was on the right block of the apartment I was scheduled to view and the next I was laying on my back on the ground. I should have stayed in London. I should have burned my passport and never returned to the states.

As the impact of the death mobile registered with my body, I realized that I was dying just as my mother said I would. Alone.

For most of my life, Renee told me I was going to die like I lived, worthless. So, I knew somewhere either in hell or Florida she was smiling.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" A soft masculine voice asked me as I began to register that a big and somewhat clammy hand was resting on my forehead. I opened my eyes and immediately was flooded with deep blue eyes. The kind of blue that makes you immediately think of the ocean or the sky. The kind of blue eyes that made you feel warm inside. The kind of blue eyes that felt like home.

It was either the fatal hit I just received or this man's unbelievable beauty because the next thing I knew I was smiling and saying, "Hello, Stranger," as everything went black.

| Time Jump: 40 Minutes |

The ER was crowded, and the staff didn't seem to mind that I was one of many people that was bleeding on their ugly blue chairs. I can't believe that the taxi hit me and drove off. Is this how all of New York is? Does everyone have a blatant disregard for the well-being of others?

I can't help but look through Mr. hero of the day's bag. Once we arrived, he walked with me to the waiting area, dropped his messenger bag in a chair next to me, and then proceeded to walk briskly in the direction of the bathroom. I couldn't get a reading off him. My once non-stop feelings were missing.

He also didn't talk much. In fact, on the cab ride here, I can't remember if he said anything to me. It may have just been me going in and out of consciousness but I'm sure I haven't heard him say anything since right after the accident.

Strange. He is very attractive but strange.

Although strange, I do know that he must not be a serial killer because he brought a very incoherent wounded young woman to the emergency room instead of a sketchy basement.

Who is this beautiful, kind, and welcoming man? I find his black wallet and quickly pull out his ID, Jasper Whitlock.

My beautiful hero has a strange name. It fits him, it's strange, different, and somehow beautiful. I put his ID away and decide to give up looking because I don't see anything incriminating.

As I go to pull my hands out of his bag, he sits back down in his seat. I look up and blush slightly at rummaging through his things. "Sorry. Looking for a cigarette." He nods and moves his messenger bag to the sit on the opposite side of him as he starts to look through it.

"Yeah, I actually just recently gave up."

"Well good for you," I say as I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm my nerves. I really wish he had a cigarette. Even holding one right now would relax me. "I've just arrived back in the states from being in London for three years. I can't believe that I forgot about the traffic direction difference."

I hear a small chuckle "that makes me feel a whole lot better honey. I saw you walk out into that traffic without a second thought, and I was so scared that you were trying to take your life."

I chuckle as well but I'm sure that it doesn't sound as full or as genuine as he did. "Yeah, no suicide attempts from me—just my attempt to get reacclimated to New York's taste for blood."

He laughs again but other than that says nothing. We both sit in silence for what feels like a long time and just as I go to ask him a question, he speaks.

"Darling, would you like my sandwiches?" He says as I open my eyes to meet his. I can clearly smell the pungent smell of tuna fish and onion. "Don't eat fish," I say as I close my eyes again and relax more into my seat.

"Why not?"

I smile as I cross my legs and feel my brown sundress rise more around my thighs "Fish piss in the sea." I can almost feel his eyes burn into the newly exposed flesh.

"So do children." I can't help but snort at that.

"I don't eat children either." He laughs so loudly that many of the people in the emergency room look in our direction.

He has a nice laugh. It's rich and full. It had no restraints...there was no hesitation. You can tell that he laughs a lot. It's a laugh that makes it easy to deduce that he is a happy person.

"Thanks for bringing me to the ER. Most people wouldn't have bothered." I say as I look into his piercing blue eyes. He smiles at me and shrugs "Most people in this town weren't raised like I was."

Now that I'm fully conscious I can clearly hear how thick his southern accent is. "Where are you from?" I ask as I look at his shoulder-length soft blond hair and his soft but someone strong boyish features.

"Texas. I just moved here three years ago." He says as he shifts in his seat and looks around the ER. We have been waiting in this emergency room for over fifteen minutes now. I can't imagine he doesn't have something else to do today. It's a Tuesday morning.

"You know, you don't have to wait with me. I'm sure you probably have something more important to do than wait with a strange girl at the emergency room." He smiles as he finally stops looking around to look at my short spiky hair and then my eyes again.

"I'm a sort of writer…and the company I work for is very flexible with my hours. Plus, there is nothing more important right now to me than making sure that you are perfectly fine—you're talking and moving now but, in the taxi, you couldn't even tell me your name or stay awake." I release a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding. I guess even while thinking I was dying, I knew better than to relay any personal information to this beautifully strange man.

| Time Jump: 1 Hour |

"I really don't feel right about leaving before you get seen." We just walked out of the emergency exit. He's walking so close to me that the back of our hands keeps briefly brushing. I don't feel anything but calm. There are no warning bells going off. There nothing. It's nice. He's nice.

"There was an eighty-year-old lady in there who I'm sure was like twenty-one when she first checked in. I think that I'm perfectly fine—just a little bloodshed and a headache." I look up at him and he looks unsure but doesn't argue with me. "Well, if you're sure…" he says as we continue to walk down the street. I smile and nod but stay quiet because this is the part. The part where he finally asks me personal questions about myself. The part where he fills the silence with noise. The part where he asks me my name. I mean, he must, right? We've spent a significant amount of time together. He'll want to know my name.

I usually am at peace in silence but for some reason, I want to speak. I want to ask him questions. I want to know all there is to know about this stranger. I want to hear him call me darling or honey again. It's strange because I just want more from him, of him.

My mask is slipping.

We silently walk side by side casually looking over at each other from time. In fact, it isn't until we reach a park that he finally speaks. "Wow, all these memories just came back to me." He says as we walk in the direction of a large medal open gate in front of the park. He's walking towards the benches, each foot on a mission to get him to this place, the spot that is pulling memories from him.

As I go to follow him, I stop because of an out-of-place brick wall that has thousands of names on it. Names that apparently belonged to people who not only died but they died in the act of saving the lives of others. They all were heroes. They all were the type of people to help a girl get to the emergency room after she was hit by a car. They all had value. They had worth. They all were so much more than me.

I look up to see him sitting on one of the benches and looking in my direction. I can't help but glance back at the names before I walk towards him.

As I sit down, I am graced with his southern accent "Ten years ago. My father and I came here the afternoon my mother died. She was a smoker. She died in that hospital, actually."

I'm confused for a moment because he told me he's from Texas, but I don't ask why she died here. Instead, I ask, "Is your father still alive?"

He looks over at me and for the life of me, I can't read his expression. "Yes, but he's holding on by a thread. He's in a home."

I don't know what to say to that. I have no experience mourning a loved parent. I have no experience with grieving.

"And ten years ago…you were how old?" I say as I look over the garden.

"Ten years ago, I was seventeen. And how old were you?" He says as he turns to look at me. I can almost feel the curiosity pouring out of him.

"You're really late for work," I say as I raise myself up from the bench. He smiles and nods "Are you saying you want me to go?"

I smile back at him, "I'm saying you're late for work "

| Time Jump: 20 Minutes |

He doesn't ask me to come with him but after he spent the whole morning caring for me, I feel as though I must see him off to work. It isn't even a conscious decision. One minute I'm walking him to the bus stop and the next I'm following him onto it.

So, we both take the bus.

It's silent.

Well, the other bus occupants aren't but he and I are. It's weird again because I can't help but wonder what he's thinking. Every so often I see him glance at me, my hair, my eyes, my lips but he stays silent.

I can't help but wonder if he can tell that my short black and pink highlighted pixie cut was done in a motel bathroom by me. I wonder If he can see how tired I am by looking into my brown eyes. I wonder if when he looks at my lips if he thinks of kissing them. I will never know – because he doesn't say anything.

Now my mask is in place. It's secure. It's perfected. So, I ignore my thousands of questions and say nothing too.

Before I know it, the bus comes to the eleventh stop and he's walking off of it as silently follow him.

"This is me." He says as we walk onto the sidewalk in front of a large brown brick building.

"Enjoy your stay here. Please remember our traffic tends to come from the left. Bye." He's so strange.

He starts to walk off, then executes a semi-circle and returns. I can't help but smile at him as he walks directly in front of me. He says nothing and once again I'm mesmerized by his ocean blues.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" He makes a face that resembles a toddler trying food it doesn't like. It's cute. He's cute.

"Yeah. Maria. She's called Maria. She's a linguist. What's your name?"

My mask is in place. It's secure. I'm prepared. I'm powerful.

I smile up at him "Alice. My name is Alice Brandon.

| Time Jump: 2 Years (NEXT CHAPTER 2018) |


Authors note: This two-year time jump is the biggest time jump. (This introduction is the shortest chapter).