Faking It Chapter 23: If You Want Me, a twilight fanfic

I don't own Twilight.

EPOV

I was at my piano again. I had played more in the past week than I had in the previous five years. I wasn't being serious now, though, just plunking away at Bella's song, re-working some chords, killing time…remembering.

Bella on my piano…that really was the fulfillment of a teenaged fantasy, and fulfilled in the most exquisite way imaginable. Every time I sat here, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

When she sang with me, I was so fucking nervous to show her what I'd done that I almost chickened out. In the end, I couldn't even spit the words out, all I could do was show it to her and see what she did. What she did was sing with me and it was…fuck…I had no words for what it felt like, playing, hearing her voice wrap around me like that, answer my notes, finish what I started, take off and fly from where I launched her.

I was undone by her. Just being away from her every day left me so strung out and anxious for her. She was like a drug to me, and far more addicting for me than any of the actual drugs I had done. Fuck, I nearly told her that day at the piano, while I was buried in her, that I loved her. It half came out before I caught myself. But even I know that the first time that you tell a woman that you love her, it should not be while your dick is in her and you're about to come. So I back pedaled; it was just too soon and too much was left unresolved.

She was leaving on tour in a week. I still didn't know what the fuck to do about that. Realistically I knew that this was bound to come up for one of us. She would go on tour, I would go on location (assuming I ever got cast again), but I hadn't expected it to crop up so soon. We just started and now in a week she was leaving.

Here I was, facing this immovable deadline and still I couldn't seem to get anything resolved. As soon as she told me about the tour I knew I'd have to say something to her before she left town, confess, lay myself bare before her and hope for the best, even if it all felt too soon. But I hedged, waiting for my opening, the right moment, and it wouldn't come. It didn't help that I hardly saw her at this point. The band was doing double duty, spending the first half of their days in the studio finishing the album and the second half, well into the night every night, rehearsing the new live show, only to start all over the next day at the crack of dawn. The schedule was brutal and Bella was exhausted. Most nights she showed back up at my house at nearly midnight, half asleep on her feet. All I could do at that point was fold her into my arms and take her to bed. It seemed hardly the time to start some big gut-wrenching conversation about our future…especially if it went badly.

There it was, the other thing holding me back.

Abject terror.

There were moments when we were together when I felt like it was so clear, that she cared for me, too, that this should be easy, effortless. And yet…Bella was a blank slate. She never let slip even the most casual reference to her and I being together like this beyond today. I rarely even heard her utter the word "us" and never, ever in any sort of future tense. Hell, half the time I was still surprised and delighted when she showed up here at night.

It hardly made sense to me. She came to me every night, we had the most mind-blowing sex I'd ever experienced, filled with tender touches and whispered endearments. We slept together completely tangled around each other like we'd never be separated. The few minutes we spent together around the house in the mornings before she left were filled with casual affection. But she never verbally made reference to the two of us as a couple, we never once spoke about what had changed between us and what it might mean.

For every delicate stroke of her fingers along my jaw while she stared into my eyes in a way that made me feel like she'd happily spend the rest of her life looking at me like that, there were a million other moments when she casually spoke of her future plans without a single mention of me in there anywhere.

And so here I was, still unsure. And she was leaving. And I was going to have to take the leap and speak, knowing there was a pretty good chance she would just give me a pitying look and a smile and tell me that she'd had fun, but that it would be best if we just ended this whole thing when she went away. And that would end me.

The front gate buzzed, and I was grateful for the momentary distraction from my morose thoughts. I headed down to the front hall and buzzed the visitor in and waited by the front door. It was a messenger, with a fat manila envelope. I could see it was from my manager, Marc's office, by the letterhead. I signed for it and was flipping open the back clasp when my cell buzzed.

"Hi, Marc," I said, wedging the phone against my shoulder as I flipped the envelope open.

"Did you get it yet?" Marc's voice, usually so calm, slow and deliberate, sounded slightly frantic and clipped.

"The envelope? Yeah, it just got here. I'm opening it now. What is it?"

"An offer," Marc said, short and to the point, and yet those two words hung heavy over the phone line.

"What for?"

I slid the script out and flipped it over. The title meant nothing to me, I hadn't heard of it before.

"I got a call this morning," Marc said, "…from Martin Scorsese's people. He wants you, Edward. Specifically you. For the lead."

I stared at the script in my hands, my fingers tightening on it.

"Really? Me? Is it any good?"

I was stalling, trying to calm myself down and stay cool. Martin Scorsese would hardly be bothering with crap and, hello…I'm completely unemployed. Scorsese's worst film was still infinitely better than anything I had on my horizon.

"Jesus, Edward. Beyond good. This is the kind of role that wins you an Oscar," Marc sounded breathless, stunned at this sudden turn in my fortunes.

I was silent for a moment, absorbing this, still staring at the script like a moron.

"Read it today, he wants to talk to you as soon as you've gotten through it. And you'll have to head to Italy as soon as possible…"

"Wait. Italy? Why?"

"He's in the middle of filming something else at Cinecetta Studios. He wants you to fly over as soon as you can to do some readings with potential co-stars. They want to lock down the principal casting quickly."

"What's the rush? Why did they only approach me now if the schedule is that far along?"

Marc gave a rueful chuckle, "Apparently Marty has been kicking and screaming to have you do this since the script landed in his lap, insisting that there's no one else who would work in the part. But the studio and the producers were balking, refusing to put up the cash unless he picked another…ahem…more reliable lead actor. Seems you chatted with one of those producers at the Vanity Fair party. Arnold Goldman?"

The name tickled my brain a little, maybe I remembered it. I was getting a flash of a tall balding man with a barrel chest and a huge white smile. I remembered him shaking Bella's hand vigorously, and Bella charming him completely. I think by the end of the conversation, she had him reminiscing to her about how he met his wife in college. I don't remember a single word being spoken about work, just another casual party conversation.

"That guy?" I said, disbelievingly, "I didn't know he was connected to Scorsese."

"Well, I don't know what you said to him, but he went back to his partners last week and greenlighted the whole project, told Marty he could have you and anything else he wanted. Marty is beside himself."

"It was Bella," I said quietly.

"What?"

"Bella. She was the one who talked to him." She did this for me.

"Well, then I'm buying that girl a drink or a car or maybe her own island or something. Because this is it, buddy. You're back."

I'm back. Because of Bella.

BPOV

I was slumped on my stool at the mic, tired and achy and really ready to be done. We'd been at this for hours without a break. But now that the tour and rehearsals were bearing down on us, just over a week until we left, our studio time was drawing to a close and we'd chosen to jettison tonight's live show rehearsal in favor of staying in the studio and trying to push through and finish this one unwieldy song. Ready or not, we needed to finish the album. Mostly it was done. We all felt really good about the songs and the performances for the most part, there were only a few rough patches to clean up. And of course now, when time and tempers were running short, was when it became impossible to reach a consensus about any of those little details.

I'd sung this damned intro a thousand times. I knew it wasn't quite perfect, but it was pretty damned close. Butch kept saying he could fix it in the mixing, but Jasper kept insisting I sing it differently, looking for the magic fix. Except I knew he wasn't really questioning my vocal, he was questioning his writing. But since he was unwilling to fess up to that and address it, we just kept doing it over and over, hoping to solve something with my vocal that no vocal could fix.

I was ready to throw his damned ass out the window. Rose's temper was deteriorating by the minute, Emmett was bored, even poor Seth, slouched on the couch in the recording booth, looked ready to slit his wrists.

"Jazz," I exhaled, "if I haven't sung it the way you want to hear it, maybe we should rewrite it."

"Are you saying it's my problem?"

"No," I squeezed my eyes shut and reminded myself that I really did love him, even when he was being a perfectionist dick. "It's just…I don't think I can give you what you're looking for. Maybe if we switch it up, we'll all be happier."

He opened his mouth to protest and my cell vibrated audibly. He glanced down at my pocket as I fished it out. "Cullen?"

I looked a little sheepish and hit accept, turning away from him to talk. He threw his hands up, exasperated, and flopped onto the couch.

"Edward? What's up?"

"Are you finishing up soon?"

"Not officially, but I think our time here is limited," I rolled my eyes in Jasper's direction. We were going to have to wrap it up soon or kill each other. "Why?"

"Can I pick you up?"

I smiled and blushed in spite of myself, "Sure, what's up?"

"I wanted to take you out. Dinner, maybe? Have you eaten?"

"No, I haven't eaten, but won't it be too late? By the time you get over here and we get out everything will be closing."

"Not for me," he said casually, "It'll be fine. So can I come get you?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Sounds great." Was this a date? Like a real one? Was Edward Cullen taking me out on a date?

I could almost hear him smiling through the phone. "Great. I'll be there soon."

"What's up?" Rose asked.

"What? Oh, Edward's going to pick me up for dinner."

"Like a date?" she asked.

"I guess. Rose, we've been out to dinner before."

"Yeah, but you weren't sleeping with him then."

"Rose!" I screeched. Emmett snorted and Jasper rolled his eyes dramatically.

"So I guess this means we're done here?" Jasper said sarcastically.

"Jazz, we're not getting anywhere. Why don't we let Butch and Kyle work on it some and see what it sounds like tomorrow morning, when we're fresh?"

Before Jasper could respond, the door was flung open and Alice projected herself into the room. "Jazz!" she shrieked, before falling onto his lap. He grinned ear to ear as soon as he saw her and opened his arms wide to receive her.

"So, Jazz," I said with mock sarcasm, "I guess this means we're done here, huh?"

He shot me a sneer, but then relented and smiled. "You're right, Bells. Let's just listen in the morning. I'm sorry I'm being such a hard ass. It's just, you know…"

"I know, Jazz. You want it perfect. And we'll get it there. Tomorrow."

Rose and Emmett visibly exhaled and began packing up their stuff in relief.

"Ooh, so you're finished?" Alice squealed. "I was just coming to steal Jasper away and feed him. Bella, do you want to come to dinner with us? Rose? Em? What about you?"

"We're game," Rose said.

"Forget Bells," Jasper said, "She's a lost cause. Your brother is on his way over to get her."

"Oh, but why don't you guys just come with us?" she asked.

I shot her a stunned look.

"What, and out you and Jazz to Edward, Alice?" I was laughing a little.

She shrugged, "I'm tired of sparing him. He has to find out sooner or later. And if you're there, he'll behave himself and be nice."

"I think you're giving me way too much credit, Alice," I said.

"No," she said softly, smiling at me, "I really don't think I am."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but can I beg off tonight?"

Rose rolled her eyes at me, "Want him all to yourself tonight, Bella?"

"We're just so busy. I never see him anymore. Do you mind?"

Rose shrugged, "Nah, go soak up Loverboy to your heart's content."

She looked at me then and her eyes were kind. She knew what I was thinking. Time was short.

"Ah, well," Alice said, "Another time. We'll definitely all go out before you guys leave town." She looked miserable at the thought, although I'm not sure why, since I knew Jazz was planning on high-tailing it back to LA for every break to see her.

"Well, I'm definitely ready for some wine and I think Em is going to start chewing on the sound proofing if we don't feed him soon," Rose said, straightening up from her gear.

"Bells, will you be okay alone here until Edward shows up?" Emmett asked.

"Butch and Kyle are still working," I said, pointing to the recording booth, "Plus, Seth is here. He stays until he's relieved of his duty."

"Your very own guard dog," Rose snorted.

"More like a lap dog. Or a really over-eager Jack Russell terrier," Jazz laughed.

"You're just jealous because I have a bodyguard and you don't!" I stuck my tongue out at him childishly and, laughing.

Seth poked his head in the room.

"Are you guys wrapping up?"

"Yeah," I said, but I'm waiting for Edward. Can you hang out with me for a few more minutes?"

He gave me his enormous open smile and came to flop down on the couch next to me. "Sure thing, Boss Lady"

Emmett gave Seth a somber look and raised his fist to him. "Bro?"

Seth gave him a serious little nod bumped his fist with his own. "Bro."

"Christ, Seth, not you, too!" I wailed.

"Emmett, you are a bad influence on that sweet boy!" Rose was laughing as she linked her arm in Emmett's and dragged him from the room after Alice and Jasper.

When Edward finally arrived, he found Seth and I engaged in a vigorous game of slap hands. Seth had been feeding me some line about how he was a natural for bodyguard work because his Native American heritage gave him superior Spidey senses and reflexes or some shit like that. I countered that the only reliable way to judge reflexes was a game of slap hands and the next thing we knew, I was kicking his ass at it. I may not be graceful, but I'm fast.

We were giggling like little children when Edward walked into the studio. He just stood in the doorway watching, an amused smile creeping across his face. My stomach plunged to my feet at the sight of him and I marveled that he still had that effect on me.

Seth stood abruptly, as if suddenly remembering his responsibilities. As far as I was concerned, his only responsibility was to keep me entertained until it was time to leave, but he clearly took the whole guarding-my-life thing a bit more seriously.

"Are you okay then for tonight, Bells?"

"Yes, Seth. Thanks. Tomorrow, 8:30?"

"See you then!"

He nodded at Edward as he jogged out the door.

"Nice professional relationship you're developing there, Ms. Swan," Edward drawled as he pushed off the door frame and came further into the room.

I gave him a mocking haughty glare. "You have your own bodyguard. You can be all distant and professional with him if you want. You leave my Seth alone."

"Your Seth? Yeah, that's about right. More playmate than fierce protector."

"You're just jealous. My bodyguard could kick your bodyguard's ass."

Edward laughed and it made my heart fail a little, like it always did. He seemed relaxed and happy tonight, and it made me practically giddy anticipating the rest of the evening together.

He was looking around himself at the studio with interest and I realized that he hadn't been here since that one brief visit the morning after our first date.

"Well, this is it," I said, waving a hand around us, "It's a little rough around the edges, but we've gotten so comfortable here, I'm really going to miss it."

"This is where the magic happens, huh?" he said.

"We can only hope it's magic."

He circled around the piano in the corner and idly trailed his fingers over the keys. He plunked out three notes, almost as a reflex action. Then he glanced over to me where I was still sitting on the couch.

"Would you sing your song with me again?" he asked softly.

"What…now?"

He shrugged, "Sure. Is it okay?" He nodded his head at the booth where Butch and Kyle were still hard at work.

"Sure, it's fine. Believe me, they're not listening. They're swamped re-mixing the intro we recorded today. They'll be at it a while."

Edward slid onto the piano bench and I crossed the room to come sit beside him. I hummed a few quick scales to loosen my voice back up after having had such a long workout today. All I needed at this point was to blow my voice out.

I leaned in against him a little when I was ready and he smiled softly at me with an unreadable expression on his face before beginning. He played it from memory, much to my amazement. I came in on cue this time, and I was much more pulled together, since I wasn't about to break down sobbing like the first time he played it for me. The symbiosis, the emotional connection, was just as strong as it had been in Edward's bedroom. I still couldn't get over this feeling of being fully surrounded in the music, feeling it pushing my vocal, I'd never felt anything like this, and I loved it. I realized with a mixture of happiness and dread that it probably had something to do with how I felt about Edward. That's why it affected me so strongly.

We surged through the song and finished, just looking at each other for a moment, smiling stupidly.

"Thank you for my song, Edward. I love singing it with you. You don't know how much."

"I like that it makes you happy. That's why I did it. Bella…" he looked for all the world like he was going to say something else, his brow furrowed, his eyes dropped, he swallowed hard. My heart began to pound in fear.

"Edward? Is everything okay?"

"I got a script today," he said abruptly.

"Really? Is it good?"

He snorted softly and rolled his eyes. "It's fucking great. Martin Scorsese is directing. He's asked for me personally."

My eyes nearly popped out and my jaw dropped, "Oh, Edward!" I didn't really think about it, I just threw my arms around his neck. I had a moment of second-guessing, worried that I was being too "supportive girlfriend" when I had no stake to that claim. But his arms came around my waist immediately and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, so I think my reaction was the one he was hoping for. It occurred to me, not for the first time, that Edward was remarkably isolated. He had no genuine close friends that I had seen, and outside of Alice, I was probably the only person he had to share this news with. It made me feel miserable for him.

"That is so fantastic, Edward! I'm…well, I'm proud of you."

"It's all because of you, Bella. You did this for me. Thank you."

I tightened my arms around him, glad that he wasn't looking at my face right now, because I was about to cry again. "You did this. It's your talent. It was always there. I just helped you clear the debris away so people could see it again."

He pulled back now and smoothed a hand down the side of my face, his eyes locked on mine. He leaned in slowly to kiss me, gently, softly.

"I'm still saying thank you," he whispered against my lips.

"You're welcome," I whispered back. I almost said it. It's because I love you. The words were right there, hanging in my throat, begging to be said. But I didn't say them. This moment was perfect and I didn't want to ruin it. Just like in my song. Maybe he doesn't love me…

Well, I couldn't say it, but I could feel it. I slid my hands up to the back of his neck and tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling his face back to me, pulling his lips to mine. He kissed me back eagerly, his hands sliding to my waist, his fingers digging in. His tongue was in my mouth, dancing with mine.

My hands slid down from his neck, over his shoulders, down over his chest. I let my fingertips drag over his abdomen as my hands skated lower and his muscles jumped and I heard him gasp against my mouth. My hands crept lower, skimming past the waistband of his jeans, down over the fly. He was hard by the time my fingers got there.

He pulled his mouth from mine, breathing heavily, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Ah…whatever you have planned, I'm going to remind you that there are still people in the room next door," his voice was low and raspy.

"Fuck," I muttered.

"We'll do that later," he chuckled. I sat back and opened my eyes.

I loved that I'd gotten him all hot and bothered and couldn't resist messing with him just a little more. I leaned forward and placed my lips near his ear, my bottom lip just brushing his earlobe. "Promise?"

His hands tightened on my hips, "I swear," he muttered, "Does Kate Bush know that her song turns you into a wanton woman?"

I chuckled, my lips still against his ear. I heard him groan softly. "It's not the song. It's this hot piano player I know. He's got these freaking amazing fingers…"

"Alright," he said loudly, shooting to his feet, "We need some private time, clearly."

I laughed at how jumpy I'd made him, but I let him yank me to my feet and drag me out of the studio. We never made it to dinner.

It was our last day in the studio. Bittersweet. On the one hand, we'd worked really hard recording this album and I was glad to have it done. On the other hand, the experience had been amazing and I was sad to see it end. Butch, our producer, had become our musical guru. I hated to think that I wouldn't see him every day now. Hell, I'd even miss geeky Kyle, the recording engineer.

And it was time to move on. We'd been squeezing in rehearsals for the live show as much as possible around recording and there was less than a week before we were scheduled to go. As it stood, we were only in the studio for a few hours today, a few last clean ups, and then we were on to the stage show rehearsal…for as long as it took. I hated every minute that took me away from Edward, even if I was excited about everything that was happening to us.

Seth pulled up to the entrance and we went through our now-familiar routine of getting me into the studio while being seen as little as possible. I had developed all kinds of coping mechanisms to block out the shouts and the jostling. It's not that I didn't hear them, I did. I just found ways to set my brain on autopilot, so I just moved without thinking. It helped a little, I just hated having to walk through my life trying to stay numb half the time.

Seth flopped down on the couch to shoot the shit with Kyle. They'd struck up an unlikely friendship over some graphic novel they were both obsessed with. I was glad. It meant that these endless days weren't quite as painfully boring for him as they could have been.

I headed into the studio to get some tea and get settled. I jumped out of my skin when I realized Jasper was already there, standing at the piano, looking at me.

"Jesus, Jasper! You scared the crap out of me! Why the hell are you standing there like a statue? It's creepy."

Jasper didn't answer right away. He had his ipod in his hand. There was a docking station sitting on the piano. He plugged it in and looked at me with his intense stare as he hit play.

My stomach hit my feet as I heard the song that filled the room. Me and Edward, playing my song.

"What the hell is this, Bells?"

I fumbled, not sure what to say, feeling embarrassed that something so personal was exposed like this.

"You know I love that song," I said, stalling.

"Who's that playing with you?" Jasper's voice sounded tinged with some emotion…was he angry? Suspicious? Jealous? I realized what it must sound like to him. He thought I was recording with someone else.

"It's Edward."

Jasper sucked in his breath through his teeth. "Holy shit! That's Cullen? Who did the arrangement for you?"

"He did."

"Edward did that? Jesus. Well, this complicates things," Jasper ran his hand over the back of his neck as he looked at his feet.

"Where did you get that, Jazz?"

"Kyle. He ran tape on you the other night," he said, distracted.

"What? Fuck! Why did he do that?"

"He came back in the room and heard you warming up. He didn't know what you were up to, he just didn't want to miss it in case it was important."

"You said it complicates things. What things?" I said, getting mad now at the invasion of my privacy, "It was just something nice Edward did for me because he knew I wanted to sing the song. It has nothing to do with us."

Jasper dropped his hand and looked back at me, exasperated. "Butch was impressed. He passed it on to the label. They want to put this on the album, Bells, as a bonus track."

"Oh, no!" my hands flew up in front of me, as if to ward off the idea. "Absolutely not! Edward didn't do it for the band, he did it for me. We can't do that. It's not right."

"Well, this recording has shot all over the damned label and they have their teeth in it now. They want it. And fuck…when they find out it's Cullen on there, they're going to piss themselves, "Jasper trailed off in thought.

"Jasper, it's not ours to use. They can't have it. Don't you see?" I was horrified that all those faceless people, I didn't even know how many, had been listening to our intensely personal moment. I felt violated.

"Bells, it's really good. They're right about that. I've…damn, I've never heard you sound like that. People should hear you sing like that, hon. I'll admit, it adds a whole new level of weirdness that it's Cullen playing with you, but we can deal with that if it means getting you and that vocal out there."

"Jasper, I just…"

He held his hands up to stop me. "Bells, will you just talk to him? Ask him? If he says no, then it's done. The label can't argue. But will you just try?"

I sighed, seeing how badly he wanted this.

"Have Emmett and Rose heard this? What did they say?"

"They heard. They want to use it."

I felt outvoted. They all wanted it. The label wanted it. So what if it was one of the most intensely personal, intensely emotional moments in my life? Well, all I could do was ask him. After all, I reasoned, even if Edward said yes, he had agents and lawyers and the logistics of it would probably end up dissuading the label from pursuing it. That made me feel better. I would ask and in the end, it probably wouldn't work out anyway.

I waited until we were nearly asleep. I'd stalled all day. I didn't mention it when he called me midday. I didn't bring it up when he met me for my dinner break during rehearsal with fish tacos from Jorge's stand. I didn't bring it up after I got back to his house that night.

I waited until after we'd made love and we were laying curled around each other, naked and drowsy, in the dark, almost asleep.

"Edward?'

"Hmmm?"

"The other day? When you came to pick me up at the studio and I sang my song?"

"Yeah?" he sounded slightly more alert now, like he could hear that I was headed somewhere. I hated this. I was terrified he'd feel like I was trying to use him, exploit him. I was sure people did it to him all the time and I really didn't want to be one of them.

"I didn't know anybody heard us, but Kyle did, and he recorded it. The label heard it."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "And?"

"They want to put it on the album," I was whispering now, rushing through it. "I told them no, Edward. I swear. But they all want it, so I said I'd ask, but just say no and they'll leave it alone, I promise. I'm so sorry, Edward."

"Why are you sorry, Bella?" his voice was soft and gentle, which made me relax a little. He didn't seem angry, which surprised me.

"It was just something personal, Edward. It has nothing to do with all that. And I don't want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you or something…"

"Bella, I know you're not trying to take advantage of me. I know you better than that. Yes, it's personal, but if they want to use it, they can."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He squeezed my shoulders. I was disappointed that he gave it up so easily. Maybe it felt more intimate to me than it did to him. I was so desperate to protect it from the outside and he seemed to have no problem with the whole world being privy to that moment. That hurt more than a little, now that I let it sink in.

"Well," I said, trying to keep my voice light, "I'm sure there are a million legal problems, clearances and stuff. The label will talk to your people and I bet it will all fall apart in the details and never happen."

"I'll tell them to give it to you. It won't be a problem," he said quietly.

He's just giving it away. Giving us away. Fuck.

EPOV

I was trying to sound off-handed about it, like it wasn't that important to me, but when Bella asked me if she could put our song on her album, I was freaking thrilled.

Sure, it was personal and I wasn't crazy about the whole world hearing me and her together like that. But on the other hand, it tied us together even closer and that was worth it. We'd be together, in her world, in a way that was tangible and permanent. She's mine. I couldn't resist the opportunity to lay claim to her in this way, in front of the whole world. I would always be on her first album. That was huge. It had to mean she cared about me. She'd never allow it otherwise.

I felt elated. I just had to sort out with her what we'd do when she left town, and we could figure out some solution to that. I could come see her, she could come see me. We just had to sort out the logistics. We'd talk before she left, I'd make sure of it. And now for the first time I felt like it might be okay, she might be mine.

A/N: Cinecitta Studios is a real film studio in Rome and Scorsese really shoots there. Gangs of New York was filmed at Cinecitta.