Authors Note:
I was pleasantly surprised by everyone's reaction to this story and how much you guys loved it. Honest to goodness, if it wasn't for your constant messages and reviews pestering me to continue this story, it would have been left untold. But unfortunately, I love you guys, so here we are.
This is the first chapter - the last chapter will be seen as a prequel.
Thank. You.
I love you with all like I love the number 13 and writing about Edward's green eyes.
x
Bella's POV: Our Deal
Looking for a job wasn't easy.
Especially when I knew that a job revolving around fast food, and cleaning toilets wasn't something that I wanted, but then again, I knew I was being overly picky. A nice job at a store folding clothes would suit me just fine… it's just… I wanted more. I didn't know what though.
My best friend, Alice, was frustrated with me at this point. And by frustrated, I mean very frustrated.
"Come on, Isabella! We're in New York, the busiest city, filled with people's hopes and dreams. We ourselves have dreamt of coming here together all of our lives. Can't you just choose something for the time being?"
Naturally, I knew she was right. But the more stubborn part of me felt indecisive. "I know, I know! But… I don't know. Everything just seems so bad, and boring. I know I need a job but I don't want to die of boredom." She rolls her eyes. "And you think I want to work at Aeropostale? Their fashion is horrid; they need me more than I need them. But we can't afford to be picky, at least not right now. We have to start out somewhere. Please? For me?"
I blew out a breath and pointed randomly to a bakery shop with a "HELP WANTED" sign on the window. She grins at me and happily skips towards it.
Knowing her, this would be my future job.
x
I was in hell.
Okay, maybe I was exaggerating. It honestly wasn't bad, it wasn't. But after going through the usual training of what all the pastries are called, how much they cost, and how the register works, there isn't much to learn or to do. And it wasn't like the customers varied either. It was the same young couples, choosing the same donuts, and cakes, drinking hot chocolates in the corner of the shop while whispering to each other about something I doubted I was interested in. Sometimes, though, it was fun to write about them. To see and notice when they were fighting, and imagining what they would be fighting about. Intervening in-laws. Lack of commitment. Jealousy.
One day, however, a man walked in without his usual partner. I tried smiling at him like I had been trained to do; this time, he didn't smile back. Later on, I wrote about how love can't always last; not even over pastries and hot chocolates.
"Have a nice day," I say as I give him his bag of donuts. He walks away without another word, and I know he will never come back.
I know that for him, this whole bakery will have her written all over it.
x
When I come home to Alice that day, I smile softly when I find her sleeping on the couch with her mouth open. I quietly draw a blanket over her and walk to my room. I lay down face up, staring at the ceiling, reminiscing.
Alice and I had met our freshman year of high school; her first words to me had been, "Are you Italian?" Her face had flamed up immediately afterward, and I remember smiling, thinking that she had probably asked without meaning to. When I kindly shook my head no, she relaxed and smiled back.
We had been acquaintances all year, up until junior year. I had lost some friends, and so had she. Somehow, someway, fate united us in our Spanish class. We sat together all year, and we never looked back. It was that summer when we got matching tattoos; two hands making a pinky-promise; our union sealed on our skin forever.
We had always talked about moving to New York together; it would be the perfect place for her to launch her fashion career, and me my writing career. Our best-friend dream came true when she presented me with two airplane tickets the night of our graduation.
Again, we decided to not look back as we packed to leave Forks, Washington. It was the first time I had seen my Charlie, my father, cry.
As I dress for bed, I sneakily steal her computer to look for jobs. I know she would kill me since I swore that I wouldn't leave the bakery, but there's nothing holding me there. It couldn't hurt to just look, right?
Suddenly, for some reason, an advertisement for an event named Tlitch came up. It had the words, "Love to watch…" and then the rest disappeared in the preview. Curious, I clicked on it. It read, "Love to watch music videos? Would you be interested in seeing them before any else? Come apply to become a moderator! No experience needed!"
For some reason, before I had even thought about it, I began filling out the application. I didn't know anything about film, but at the same time, it had to be better than anything else. It would especially beat standing at the bakery, wishing that someone would walk in and buy something.
"What are you doing?"
I startle and turn around to see Alice coming towards me with sleepy, confused eyes, glancing at my computer. I immediately shut it.
"Nothing! Just you know… catching up on the news. Robberies, and stuff." She looks at me weirdly, but I can tell that sleep is calling her name and that she can't be bothered to figure out what's really going on with me. She walks into her bedroom and shuts the door.
Well, it's for sure that Alice will kill me when she finds out. But I would tell her eventually.
What? I would!
x
When I wake that morning, I see a notification on my phone with a logo that looks familiar. I immediately snatch it up and listen to see if Alice is awake yet. I doubt it since she doesn't have to go to work till 11. I quickly key my password in and frantically look for the Tlitch email. When I find it, I click on it.
"Dear Isabella Swan,
Thank you for the application! We are very happy to see someone else interested in our company and our brand. Our brand was started by a couple of film students who had the idea that music videos shouldn't just be for famous celebrities who had just released a single off an album, but for anyone who has seen a video in their heads and can play out their own interpretation of the song.
We understand that you lack experience, but that is not an inconvenience. Most of our moderators here started with zero knowledge of films, but now they are proud members of our company. If you are still interested after reading this, then please feel free to stop by anytime today.
Thank you,
Tlitch."
I had to hand it to them about the originality of their idea. I remember being in high school, riding in my good ole' truck, listening to music, imagining music videos in my head that sometimes didn't necessarily have me in them. We've all dreamt about it - and now they're making it a reality.
Beats the bakery. I'm there.
x
After suffering goodbyes from Alice and her frantic running and chasing after realizing she had slept in, I threw on my favorite beanie with my maroon gloves and a warm shawl. I was thankful that I was familiar with the cold to the point as I was - New York has nothing on Forks.
After putting in the address in the GPS on my phone, I start walking. I'm shocked to see that it's not far away from my apartment at all; it's easily a 10-minute walk at most. But either way, I walk quickly, eager to get out the cold as soon as possible. When I finally arrive, I wonder how I hadn't seen this building before.
It's completely purple.
For some reason, this is where I get nervous. I finger the door handle, trying to not think about how there are people in there that I don't know, people who have been here longer and have more experience. Maybe I should just go. Maybe I should just -
I'm interrupted by the door opening in my face. I jump back, but I'm not quick enough to where it doesn't at least hit my forehead. Of course.
"Ow!" I cry out.
"Sorry!" I hear a voice say as they run past me. They run so fast past me that I don't have time to look at who it is. I glare at their retreating form, ignoring the fact that it was also my fault for standing here like an idiot in the first place.
I take a deep breath, and walk briskly in, trying to not let my nerves get the best of me. When I walk in, it's a whole different world.
You would think that there would be men, and women in offices in suits with a poised walk, and bored look on their faces. What I find, however, is vastly different. There are people on bean bags, bright colors everywhere, polka-dots, stripes; it screams life and movement. It screams what New York represents.
"Hey!" I hear a voice say. I turn around to see a big burly man with a wolfish smile on his face, coming… no, running towards me. My first instinct is to run, and I do. I walk backward as fast as I can almost falling on my butt in the process, but then I feel the man's hands grabbing my arms, steadying me.
"Sorry! I know I must've looked scary just coming at you like that. I was just excited." He reached up and readjusted my beanie for me, then stuck his hand out. "Let's try again. I'm Emmett, one of the moderators here."
"Oh! I'm sorry, I just...I was just caught off guard. I'm Isabella." I say, embarrassed at reacting the way I did. I reach out and shake his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Isabella. Let me show you around." He gives me another wolfish grin and walks ahead of me towards somewhat looks like cubicles.
Walking in, my breath is stolen. There are cubicles, but they're not their usual gray; they're yellow. All over you see color, life. Instead of chairs, there's bean bags and yoga balls. Instead of eerie silence, there's chatter and laughter coming from everywhere. Makeup is being done for actor's shots, people writing plots to the music videos; it just screams excitement.
I look back at Emmett, the shock evident on my face. He smiles proudly. "Yeah, I know it's pretty shocking. But the boss has made it clear that he's never wanted Tlitch be another office, another company. We want to be known for giving our employees the job they would want to wake up and come for."
I turn back to the cubicles. "Boss? Who's that?" I had assumed that Emmett was the boss since he was the one who had greeted me.
"Boss is Edward. Came up with this idea all on his own; didn't suit well with his father."
"Why not?" I ask, surprised. I had never heard of Tlitch in my life before this, but it's clear to see that it was successful and doing well, with employees who loved their job. Emmett looks at me sheepishly, and says, "It's kind of a long story, and also not my story to tell." I nod, understanding. I wouldn't want my life story to be displayed at just anyone either.
Then, I hear him behind me.
"Hey, everyone! How's it going? Going good? We're about to have some viewers to see our recent video if moderators could come in as soon as possible that would be great."
I turn around to see who this famous "Edward" is, but I am not prepared. I don't think anything could have prepared me.
He's gorgeous. I know that's cheesy to say, but honestly, he took my breath away. His eyes were a striking green, but they seemed kind; there wasn't a sign of any arrogance, despite being the leader of a seemingly successful company. He was tall; I could already tell that I would have to crane my neck to be able to talk to him. He had a lean body, and a chiseled jawline that I used to think was only possible in tacky romance novels. But I had seen it on him, and I didn't think them as cheesy anymore.
"Hey, dude!" Emmett calls out to him. "Is it cool if Isabella joins us to see what it's like to be a moderator?"
Edward, looking at some papers one of the plot writers had given him, said, "Sure. Isabella is welcome." Then, without looking at me, walks back into what I can assume is a conference room, which is aqua blue.
Emmett looks at me, smiling. "Well, then. Come along."
It wasn't until then that I realized that I was going to be able to see how everyone worked, but I was dumb to not see that I was already going to love this place and accept a job here. I knew that I was going to love the coworkers if they were people like Emmett, energetic, and kind.
But still, I was curious. I was curious about who these people were. About how they work together, and honestly, I didn't even know what the role of a moderator is.
When we walk into the conference room, the whole entire room is aqua blue, and white. The only hints that the world hasn't gone completely insane is the windows outside, where you could see all the buildings in New York. Modern, most people would call them. Boring, Alice would disagree. She would love the originality of this place, I think.
Emmett invites me to sit next to him, and I do. I look around at everyone else who's coming in, and they all look like they're having the time of your life. It's almost like high school, I think. When you get to sit next to your best friend in a fun class, it's the best part of their day. Everyone is everyone's best friend here.
Emmett was right. This job is the best part of their day.
When Edward walks in from the back, I try not to stare. However, when I look back at all the people sitting down, everyone is staring. It seems common knowledge that Edward is… well, he's hot. I wonder if it becomes annoying, having women stare at you wherever you go. I'm not attractive enough to know, though, so maybe he likes it.
"Well, I know we've all been waiting patiently for this music video that someone requested. I want some tips or recommendations from our viewers. Moderators, you know what to do. If someone is out of line, give them their warnings, and if those do not work, well…" He gives a smirk to Emmett as if sharing an inside joke. "Do your worst." Emmett rubs his hands together as if he's an evil villain. I can't help but smile a little, and finally, Edward notices me. "And," he continues, smiling softly at me, "welcome to our company. I hope you stay." I blush scarlet but smile back. Without further ado, he begins the video.
The video begins with a song that I vaguely recognize as Robbers, by The 1975. I sort of remember seeing the actual music video, and I know it's about a dysfunctional couple robbing a store, and their passionate love.
This story, however, is different. The video begins with a girl; she looks about 14, and a boy who it is implied that they are a year older. At first, the video shows an innocent love, something that at first I feel doesn't fit the song at all. Then, the images become darker. Her hair becomes frizzier, bruises appear on her lips because of how much she bites them in anxiety, and his eyes seem darker. But it is obvious that they love each other. They are seen fighting, and it is implied that he has asked her to run away with him; she refuses, and years pass without them seeing each other.
At the bridge of the song, the colors are negative. She walks out of her school, about to get on the bus, and he is there waiting for her, in a suit, dark eyes, and a ring.
She drops her backpack and runs to him. As Matty Healy sings, "you look so cool," she is looking back from the passenger seat at her school; at what she leaves behind.
When it fades to black, Edward turns the lights back on, and I find myself biting back tears in my throat. I clap along with everyone else, and I know that I am won over.
"That was fucking stupid." Someone from the other room says in a gravelly voice. My head snaps towards them, and I see that it is an older man with a cigarette who has bitter eyes and a tired demeanor.
Emmett tenses and I see Edward raising his hand in warning towards him.
"What makes you think so?" Edward asks in a non-judgemental tone. The man shrugs, and says, "A stupid love story. It'll encourage viewers to run away with their lovers. Not realistic." Edward smiles. "It's based on a true story. It's not about the viewers, to a certain extent; it's to tell someone's story, someone's video. That's the point of Tlitch."
Suddenly, Edward turns to me. "What did you think Isabella?" Everyone turns to look at me, including the older man and I immediately feel my blush return, and myself tense up.
"Um…" I stutter, but when I glance back at Edward, something in his face gives me the bravery to continue. "I thought it was beautiful, not just because of the story, but the way that it was filmed. Without needing to provide details about their relationship, you see that they clearly love each other; and when she leaves with him, you can see in her face what she is giving up. She is not naive to it, which," hesitantly, I turn to the man, "shows the viewers the graveness of the decision she is making. And perhaps, it will influence them to not make the same decision."
The whole room is silent, and then I hear Emmett beside me saying, "Well, shit. She gets it." And everyone in the room gives me an encouraging nod, and when I look back at Edward, he's fighting back a smile.
"Perfect," he says. "Meeting concluded."
x
When we walk out of the room, my blush still hasn't faded, but I feel good. With everyone's reaction, I don't think I did too terrible, especially with Emmett behind me yelling, "That was awesome! Shit man, I can't wait for you to work here."
I smile at him, wondering if that was my initiation, a "test". If it was, I hope that Edward agrees with everyone else here because being in there made me realize something:
I wanted to work here. I really did! This was the something more I had always wanted, the dream I was chasing daydreaming away in the bakery, wondering how I would ever make it here in New York. I knew I had a real chance here; if I made mod, maybe Edward would let me even write some of the plots for the music videos!
Thinking this while hearing Emmett rant, I hear a voice behind me declare, "Isabella!" I turn around quickly, almost standing at attention like a soldier. He fights back a smile again, and I find myself thinking that's my favorite look on his face on him. It's genuine amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners at the effort of trying to contain his grin.
"Isabella, while I do think you need to come to more meetings so we can get to know you better…" I nodded quickly, "and you need to get familiar what your job as a mod would be…" I nodded again, feeling my chest deflate in a feeling that could only be described as defeat.
"The waiting period before you become mod is at least 6 months…" 6 months? I think, knowing that I couldn't wait that long; I needed a job now.
"But after that performance, I'll shorten it to 3 weeks." He smiles a smile that I know is going to be my 2nd favorite; his mouth turns up more on one side, his eyes kind, and still amused. I almost didn't notice his words.
Wait… 3 weeks? I can do 3 weeks!
I smile a smile so big back at him that my eyes seem to shut.
"I hope you stay a while, Isabella. I think you're going to make a great addition to our team."
I hope so too.
x
Robbers by The 1975 is amazing. You should go listen to it. Matty Healy is what daydreams are about.
Thank you for believing in this story before it was even a real story.
3