A/N: SERIOUSLY?!?! ONLY ONE REVIEW ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER? Thanks a lot, you guys. Whatever. Since I've written this, I figure I might as well post it up. This is Bella's POV of the last chapter, even though I hate writing overlaps this one was necessary, cause it shows a little more about Renee and stuff.

"The tour this year was totally awesome. The fans were just so energized and loud and… oh mom the feeling of being on stage? It's the best sensation ever!" I chattered on to my mom who was visiting New York for a week. I hadn't seen her in way too long, and… I missed her.

"That's great, Bells." She said distractedly, furiously texting on her phone. My heart fell a little; she had been this way the entire two days. Too preoccupied texting or talking on the phone to form a proper conversation with me. I understood that she missed Phil, but… I was her daughter.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I murmured quietly, and she rolled her eyes with a condescending look on her face. I never expected that to be the last sentence I said to her before a truck collided with my car, and for a fleeting moment I felt myself suspended in the air before we finally crashed to the ground with a sickening sound.

"MOM!" I screamed my voice shrill with worry. I could feel blood pouring out of my pounding head before the world started spinning and I was sucked into the darkness.

I woke up to the sound of beeping machines, my head still throbbing. I flexed my arms, thankful it felt fine before I hoisted my back upwards into a sitting position. The accident came back to me, leaving me anxious to see my mom.

"Ah, Bella. You're awake. Thankfully, you're fine. You just have a few scratches over your arms and a deep gash on your forehead. We've covered it up with a bandage though. "The nurse who was idly flipping through my papers said. I nodded impatiently, really not caring about my condition. I just wanted to know about my mother.

"How's Renee?" I croaked out. The nurse returned the clipboard back to my bed and looked up at me with worried eyes. I bit my lip, having watched enough mindless teenage television to know that it wasn't a good sign.

"She's… in a coma. We don't know when she'll wake up." Her voice was quiet, but there was nothing worse than the silence that filled the room. The words slowly registered in my head, one after another, feeling like a ticking time bomb that was about to blow.

Don't know.

When.

She'll wake up.

Coma.

Renee.

"Am… am I allowed… to leave the hospital?" I couldn't stay in here knowing the last words I had said to Renee was asking her if she hated me. The disgustingly white walls of the hospital room was swallowing me whole, squeezing themselves closer to my body. I needed out.

"I guess its okay. The doctor said you were fine after all. He said you're allowed out if you don't want to stay, although it'd be better if you did for another night."

I was already halfway out of the door, leaving her words a distant blur. I didn't know where I was going to go; I only knew I needed alcohol. Lots of alcohol where there wouldn't be any paparazzi or annoying brunette bitches to talk smack about me to everyone else. It was the middle of the afternoon, but you would have been surprised at the amount of people who started drinking at this hour, how easy it was to be spotted. That was the last thing I needed.

So I found myself wandering around the darker side of town, contemplating which dirty pub to enter before finally settling on one of the slightly cleaner ones. The first person I spotted was none other than Edward Cullen. Dammit. I should have expected it, having seen him everywhere else I was, but for some reason, this only fueled the resentment I was holding in.

I shut my eyes and counted to three before cautiously approaching him.

"Edward?" He turned to face me and I tensed at the stony expression on his face. He took in the bandage around my head, his eyes moving drifting downwards until they settled on my blood-stained shirt and back up to meet my eyes. He probably thought I was some kind of freak, I could only imagine how I looked like right now.

"You," The harshness that was embedded in that single word was enough to start my blood boiling. Not at him… just anger in general. With what a screw up I was. With the carelessness I could have easily avoided when I had been driving. He just continued staring at me with this annoying half smirk on his face.

"My name is Bella. What are you doing here?" I finally asked in an equally venomous voice. He chuckled softly under his breath, which made me raise my eyebrow in question.

"I was about to ask you the very same thing." Of course he was. Just like in all those other places, where we would wonder what the other was doing here. I believed in fate, and the possibility of us somehow being fated to meet nearly made me want to turn the other direction and run straight out of the door so I wouldn't need to be see Edward anymore. But if that were what I had done, I knew I would have just bumped into him somewhere else, somewhere more public, and that wouldn't help things. He was as stubborn as I was, refusing to break his gaze first, and I knew I would just lose anyway.

So I just allowed myself to feel the way I had before my entire being had tensed up at the sight of his body on the tall bar stool. The steady stream of defeat seeped into my blood, and I felt myself sagging in exhaustion as I slumped into the stool besides his, one hand raised to signal the bartender. He was still staring at me with a questioning look in his eyes. I knew the question he was trying so hard not to ask me, blatantly ignoring it because why should I tell anything to him? He barely even knew me. I muttered my order to the bartender before burying my face in my hands, the car accident clearly flashing in my head.

I couldn't hear anything else besides my repetitive sobbing. There came a point where there was a faint voice asking if I was okay, but I knew that if I answered I would just break down all over again. He asked me again, this time if I wanted to go home, even offering a ride. That made me look up, and I shot him a glare through my stained vision.

"No." I snapped, gripping my glass and pouring the drink into my mouth. I didn't know why I was staring fixatedly at the collection of shot glasses on the table, but it provided the suitable distraction that I yearned. All I wanted to do was reverse time so I could have at least told Renee that I was sorry for my cruel words, sorry that I wasn't good enough for her.

I didn't even realize I had started talking until I heard my unfamiliar, choked up voice. I gulped down the rest of my drink, feeling the heat of the vodka slowly trickle down my tired throat. It was like I was stuck outside; unable to do anything but watch helplessly while the rest of my body opted on babbling about the accident to him, with no stop button.

"… What do you do when your mother is unconscious in a hospital because of you?" I felt the sobs growing as my body began shaking. I was once again blinded by my tears, the images of my mother flashing past my eyes without my permission. The sobs flew past my throat, each louder than the last. I felt myself being swept up by a pair of strong arms, and then my head was buried on Edward's chest, on his soft shirt that smelled far too good for a boy. I was still crying, but there, in his arms, I felt all the fears I had beginning to melt away, which was stupid really... because Edward was just a boy, and I a girl.

By the time I could think clearly again, I lay on a creamy white leather couch that was way too soft for my liking. The room was covered in furniture I didn't recognize, both antique and modern. The house was huge. My eyes eventually landed on Edward, I supposed I owed him a thanks or something.

"You took care of me." I finally muttered, when I couldn't bring myself to say a proper thank you. He nodded before a hesitant expression flitted across his face. He finally asked me the question; I knew he wouldn't have avoided it forever. I couldn't ignore the surge of pain that ran through my heart, taking a deep breath nevertheless. I didn't know why I could just tell him all these things, the things I would never tell anyone in a million years, even if they begged. And crying… I just wasn't a crier. Whatever. Next time I saw him I'd just be my usual self again.

So I told him, my hand subconsciously roaming down to reach for his before I knew what it was doing until there was a coolness that hadn't been there before. Shit. It was too late to pull it back up now, even if the action had only been accidental. I… sort of liked that his hand wasn't sweaty and hot and disgusting like Bryan's. In fact, it was the exact opposite. And I was losing my stupid train of thought again in Edward's presence.

Then he yanked his hand out of mine like it had been set on fire, setting it back onto his lap. I jumped up, repeatedly telling him that I was sorry, and just made myself walk away, even though all I really wanted to do was stay.

Hailing a cab back to my apartment was easy; dealing with being alone was harder. I called Bryan several times in vain hope that he would come over and accompany me, growling angrily when I only got his voicemail. I really didn't feel like breaking into hysterics again, so I did the only thing I could do when I got this way.

I opened a bottle of bleach, put on my ugly yellow rubber gloves, and vigorously started scrubbing every inch of my bathroom. I wasn't a total neat freak or anything… I just didn't like seeing things messy or dirty or out of place. It couldn't stop me from thinking, but it prevented the stupid water works. I groaned to myself, refusing to believe that after one accidental encounter in a bar I usually would never be caught dead in, I spilled the entire contents of my heart to Edward freaking Cullen.

With a sinking feeling I became aware that Edward was the only other person besides Charlie and me who knew that Renee was in the hospital. I hadn't even told Bryan, my best friend in the entire world, my boyfriend. I had tried leaving the news on his voicemail but, something was just… pulling me back. See, usually I let my defenses up, a wall that I never allowed anybody to see through, Bryan included. That way, I could assure myself that I was safe.

Today, with Edward, I couldn't explain it. I just had this weird breakdown or whatever. I wanted to tell him what happened, see if he would care enough or not. That scared me, because I was not the kind of girl who trusted anybody that easily. Especially not a selfish prick who spent practically all his time brooding or smirking or just generally being… annoying.

The doorbell rang, and I cussed silently, pulling off my gloves and practically sprinting to the door, hoping to God that it was Bryan.

Why, why did it have to be Edward instead? Was he so bent out of shape because he had caught a girl crying or something? Didn't he have anything better to do?!

"Not going to let me in?" I flung my arm open towards my apartment, seething on the inside. I'll bet he thought that he had some advantage over me just because he had taken care of me.

He then proceeded to point out that I looked like shit, a fact that I was well aware of, thank you very much.

Then we talked about… useless things that you probably don't want to hear about. I was surprisingly at ease then, just munching on cookies as the useless banter ensued. We were still arguing about good music when he announced he had to go, leaving without even a goodbye.

Figured he would still be a total ass.

I felt the smile I previously wore fade off the instant the door shut behind him as I flopped on my couch in defeat, switching on the television in hope that something decent might actually be on. One of the channels was showing Breakfast at Tiffany's, a show I had watched countless times. I just settled with that, not really watching or hearing.

I listened to:
We Are Broken- Paramore
My Skin- Natalie Merchant

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