Disclaimer: I do not own either Twilight or Welcome to the Rileys.

This story is rated M for content relating to violence, drugs and there will be lemon.

Summary: Bella is a senior in high school trying with a seemingly perfect life. But everything crumbles when a girl who looks just like her comes to Forks, turning her life upside down.

CHAPTER ONE: FORKS

Mallory POV

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

So tonight was an obviously fucking bad night. New Orleans, such a fucked up place. What makes it worse? The place I live in is a fucking pigsty. It's not as if I can afford more anyway. When I thought things couldn't get any worse, my fucking landlord has thrown my things out of the door!

Yes, so right now I'm standing here with my very few things that I own strewn all over the front door. No nothing. Not that I owned anything expensive.

I keep my money with me. I don't even trust banks. I can't trust anyone around here, or anywhere for that matter.

The only person I actually bother making friends with is Tara. Not that I would give my trust to her.

She works at the club too but not as a stripper. Instead, she works as a waitress. Raising two children is a tough chore, especially when she has to do it all on her own. So I guess that is the best option, working nights while the kids are sleeping is a better choice than leaving them alone in the day.

I wouldn't know. I probably would never have kids in my entire life.

I can barely support myself. And you know you can't raise a child when selling your own body can barely pay for your own rent. What more could I do to raise a baby?

Yes, fuck.

Welcome to my life.

But kudos to me by the way, because rent is out of the picture right now so I get to keep the money I made at the club tonight. Fuck yes, this is the perfect life! Sense the sarcasm.

Did I mention how it's freezing tonight and I'm wearing my green pullover, baggy jeans and yellow shoes.

Slowly, I picked up some of my clothes one by one, just the things that can fit into my duffel bag. Yes, that's all I have.

It's not as if it's such a bad thing to be thrown out of the place. After all it's not like it's a palace that I couldn't bear to part with.

But now I'm stuck with nowhere to go.

Maybe going back to the strip club sounds like a good idea. I could turn some tricks and make a few more bucks.

I can always try my luck elsewhere if there're too many girls in right now.

Like the streets.

The most unsafe option ever, to be in an outfit that's meant to lure the horniest bastards in town to myself just to suck them off in a dark alley could probably be the thing I'm doing tonight.

I even get paid for it.

Fucking romantic I know.

Walking into the club again that's filled with musky cigarette scents is something I'm used to.

I don't plan on working as a stripper for my entire life. As soon as I turn 18, I'm going to make it big in porn. That's where the big money is!

My old friend Ashley used to work with me when I was still trying to earn some bucks Chicago. I heard she's living in a very fancy apartment right now driving a nice car.

It's nice of her to call sometimes as well. She wants me to join her when I'm 18 and I can't wait.

I say if you're fucking someone, you'd better get paid more doing it.

My mouth is good in more ways than one too.

A few moans and groans wouldn't be difficult.

I'd do anything to get out of this life; if I can even call this current one I'm having a life.

The alley that led to the back stage of the club where the girls would do their make-up and change in the dressing room is still as crowded as the when my shift was just over. The night's still young anyway. In our industry, that is.

I wanted to leave my duffel bag there but decided against it.

It's always safer to keep my things to myself. The locker would be too much of a hassle too.

The manager's door was red and I knocked on it with my knuckle a few times.

"Mr Riley, I'm Mallory," wouldn't want to piss the boss off, so politeness always works.

"Come in."

I pushed the door open to be met with his him with his weight sank into the seat.

Fat guy, bald. Thank goodness I've never fucked that one before.

Of course there were others in the same category that I did.

Can't be a picky stripper slash whore.

"Yes?" his eyebrows cocked up staring at me.

But I wasn't afraid of this man. What could he do to me anyway? There's nothing that I haven't experienced before.

"Do you have any spots left tonight? I could use some more time in the club," I said it in a matter-of-fact way. Emotions are not a tool you want to use in a place like this. It wouldn't serve me well, or anyone for that matter.

"Hmm…" he says, and I stand there waiting for an answer.

Just fucking say yes already.

"No, you won't be needed here."

I almost rolled my eyes at him.

Without a word, I stormed out of his office. A little defeated and lost, really. Not that he'd be bothered with my reaction.

The good thing about Mr Riley was that he didn't care about screwing any of the strippers here. I heard he will only fuck his wife. No man in the right mind would do that, definitely not someone who works in a strip club.

That man is just weird.

That's also why I didn't try to offer myself to him. With the old guy, Michael, he would have wanted to fuck me and I would have given in. He'd give me a place on the main stage or the smaller stages and things would be good. I'd earn some quick bucks.

Not with Mr Riley.

I sigh as I stand at the entrance of the club, tugging a cigarette between my lips and lighted it up.

Cold fucking night.

Sigh.

I'm just trying to warm myself up and this god damn hoodie is not helping at all.

It's then when I wanted to walk away that I feel a tap on my right shoulder. I almost jumped up, I swear. It's fucking creepy to have someone approach you this way when the streets are all too dark.

"What," I stood there, taking in a long drag.

"I've see you around before, right inside the club. You're hot," he said.

The man looked nothing out of the ordinary but I would have been fucking scared if I wasn't in my line of work. Creepy men who approach me probably just want a quick fuck and I didn't mind as long as I would be paid enough.

So I got straight to the deal.

"There's a motel nearby that we could go if you'd like to fuck," I asked.

"Just listen to me. I have a club in Washington and I'm sure I'll pay you more than where you work at now."

"What? You want to bring me there?"

"Yes. I've seen you dance. You should be on the main stage."

That was an attractive deal. Dancing on the main stage would mean a lot of money and I'm not so dumb to say no to that.

"So, what do you think, sexy?" his voice creeps the fuck out of me.

Who the hell cares, he's giving me a fucking job!

"Deal."

I didn't even have to think. There was nothing that I had here in New Orleans anyway. I don't even have a place to stay at now.

The man continued to stare at me from head to toe. Watching someone study me like that when I was fully clad very conservatively was a little strange. What could he see anyway?

"Well, you can call me Garett and you can stay with me for the night," he smirked.

Smirking fucking means something!

"If you want to fuck, you've got to pay," there I said it.

Most bosses think they can just have a way to your pleasure dome, fun zone, whatever just because they are giving you a job.

His eyebrows cocked.

This is not going to be good.

"Firstly, girl. What's your name again? Never mind anyway. I fuck my girls as an when I want and I don't pay. You'll find that fucking me will be easier to keep your spot on the main stage."

I took in a deep breath. His voice is harsh and his eyes are menacing. I'm a little scared although I can't show that.

"But I like that. You'll be hardworking," he smirked again. "Come on, let's go, you need rest and we'll leave after breakfast tomorrow."

God knows how long we took to get to Washington.

It's colder here, I fucking hate it. It's cloudy and very wet.

"We're at Forks and this is where you'll live, along with the other girls."

He opened the door for me and it's a small, dormitory like place with some mattresses strewn across the ground.

"You can stay here until you find a place elsewhere," he shrugged.

A stripper can't ask for anything fancy, I'll make do.

"Thank you," I blurted out.

It will never hurt to be polite.

It's two in the afternoon and all most of the girls at back. I pick an empty mattress, the only one without anything surrounding it.

Damn, this place smells like a strip club too.

I settle my things down, which is basically just my duffel bag and sat on the mattress, it's been such a long journey. My back hurts.

My knees hurt more though. They need to be iced.

At least I'll be getting a good rest before I begin work tonight. That's what Garrett said anyway, there's no time to waste. Lying here won't do me any good either.

I'm always moving around so new environments don't faze me. I don't need time to get used to a new place. Everywhere is the same.

Except maybe it's just fucking dreary in this town. What's this place called again?

Forks.

What a name.

Garett told me just now before he left that he doesn't stay here with the girls.

I saw a ring on his ring finger too, so that should mean something. He's probably married. But I won't probe; it's none of my business.

I'm here to make my money and until I'm 18, I'll be here.

I'm turning 17 in in half a month.

Tell me about it, I'm fucking excited.

No. I haven't celebrated this shit for as long as I can remember. My existence is definitely not worth celebrating.

I've been told that too many times and I make it a point to remember what I've been told.

The girls around here continue what they've been doing and they don't bother to interfere with me. I see a girl, she's quite skinny and has her black rimmed spectacles on. She's the only one who has made eye contact with me. I don't care about the rest anyway. I'm not here to make friends. I'll talk if I'm talked to.

I think it's common for them to see girls' moving in and out of this place since my presence doesn't bother them. I wonder how long some of them have been here. They all look older than me.

But wait, I'm supposed to be 22. That's what it says on my ID.

Maybe some of them are "younger".

The club I'm going to work at is in Port Angeles, which is about an hour ride from here. I asked Garett why we couldn't just save the hassle and live in Port Angeles instead, but he didn't answer.

It's probably cheaper here or that the police didn't care.

I hope I'm safe. I wouldn't want to go to jail or anything like that. It's not as if this isn't bad enough already.

I rest on this thick mattress and drift to sleep.

Damn, this mattress is god damn hard, like rocks. It really doesn't help my sore back.

I'm in the car and on my way to Port Angeles right now with the other girls.

I learned that the really skinny girl is Angela and then there's Irina and Kate sitting at the back.

Angela's the one sitting beside me.

"Hey."

I looked at her.

"Um, hi."

She looked shy too but I really haven't been making friends for such a long time that this whole thing makes me feel a little awkward. I think she's trying to be nice so I just play along.

"I'm Mallory," I forced a smile.

She seemed nice and like I've already said, it's always good to play nice.

"Are you scared?" her voice was meek.

Uh, I really don't know what she's trying to get at.

"Um, no. I've done this before."

She had a strange expression on her face that I couldn't decipher.

I drop it.

The rest of the journey to Port Angeles remained silent. There's a part of me that tried to imagine how this new club I'm going to work at looks like but another part of me knows that it doesn't matter and I would have to get used to it, not that it would be difficult.

How different could the poles be anyway? Or the private rooms? They all look and smell the same.

I've worked in New Jersey, Chicago, New Orleans and a few other places. It really doesn't make a difference.

I hope they tip better here.

But judging from how quiet this place is, I really doubt so.

Oh well, fuck me.

I got off the car and right opposite I see a group of girls who just came out of the bookstore.

First I see a blonde hair girl. She's quite tall and really pretty, tallest of the bunch really. Then there's the midget, the girl with black hair and a pixie cut. Behind them is someone else with long brown hair, a little like mine when I try to neaten them up a little.

Which is never.

I see who her arm is wrapped around first, and it's the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life.

Damn, I would fuck him. For free.

But it's obvious he is dating the girl, with his arms holding on tightly to her, keeping her close.

My steps to the club are slow.

I'm distracted, distracted by this group of people who seemed normal.

The sky wasn't dark yet but it was going to be. The sun's setting.

Followed behind this man is a bulky one and another one with longer hair. I don't really care about looking at them but I'm trying to find out who this girl is, with that angel clinging on so tightly to her.

I shift my head a little trying to get a better view when…

"Holy fuck," I blurted out.

The other girls turned to look at me and I covered my mouth.

Fuck my sudden outburst.

I shook my head at them to indicate everything is fine.

The girl, the brunette… she's…. me?

She really could lose some weight and we would be indistinguishable. Besides the fact that she looks incredibly dull in what she is wearing.

Not that I'm any better, really.

My eyes widened, and I rubbed it twice to be sure I wasn't imagining things.

Fuck, she looks… I feel like I'm looking into a reflection of myself.

This is nuts.

Shell shocked by what I just saw, I stood still until I feel someone's hand on my shoulder, shaking me.

It's Angela.

"Hey, are you alright?"

I'm most definitely not. But I didn't want to tell a girl I've just met a few hours ago about it.

I don't trust people.

"I'm alright, let's go," I shrugged and moved into the club.

First day, there I go. It's not like I haven't done this before.

The main stage was mine to take, and I can already see that the other girls I stay with shooting glares at me.

Except Angela. Maybe we could be friends.

I danced robotically that night, my mind still clouded by what I saw.

A girl that looked just like me.

Thank goodness she didn't see me. I wouldn't know what to do besides stare at her wide-eyed.

This is a strange day.

I got more tips than I ever did back in New Orleans.

That's the only thing that went fine.

Other than that, I can already smell trouble here but I don't think I can just leave.

Where could I go anyway?

But I have to find out who she is. Not that I want to know her or anything. I'd rather get to know the sexy one that seemed like he got her wrapped around his finger.

She seemed happy too, and for a moment I wish I were her. I haven't smiled genuinely for too long, I think I've almost forgotten how to do that.

I sigh.

So there we have it! I finally managed to get the first chapter out, and you do realize that Mallory has quite a potty mouth, obviously. I've read the original script of WTTR so the Mallory here were be closer to my impression of Mallory's character in the script, which was much more daring than the movie.

Anyway, the second chapter is almost done and it's in Bella's POV where she will meet Mallory but in a totally different situation.

Leave reviews and let me know what you think!