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I feel like getting rid of all my things

Maybe just disappear into the fog

The traffic roars, my stomach screams

Like a gang of angry dogs

And I'm tired of living here in this hotel

(Ryan Adams – Hotel Chelsea Nights)

Edward Cullen

Sweat was glistering on my forehead and my heart was beating frantically when I turned into a parking spot in front of the hotel. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Her last words and the horrible beeping sounds of the line going dead were constantly repeating themselves in my mind. No 'see you soon' or 'goodbye' at all.

There was nothing left I could've said to make things better, but I would have tried if given the chance nonetheless.

I inhaled deeply, breathing in Bella's scent, which lingered all around me in her car. The smell was peaceful and calming, even after she had yelled furiously at me earlier. Her harsh words hung in the air without any prospect that she would take them back someday. The only insight I had left was, that she was as passionate in her anger as she was in, well, other things, and any reminder of that made my heart ache even more.

I sat in her car in front of the hotel for at least an hour, before I finally forced myself to go inside. The shabby car was the closest I could be to my Bella and I took what I could get when it came to her. Now more than ever, as she wasn't even talking to me anymore.

Carefully trying to avoid looking through her more personal things - because she was already mad enough at me - I didn't open the glove compartment, but instead found a light blue scarf on the back-seat, which I took with me. I knew, I was a pathetic sight, but I just couldn't resist taking a part of her with me.

I stalked up the stairs, bags full of clothes and her scarf in hands, opened the door to my room and let myself and the bags fall onto the bed immediately. I would not stand up until Jason or one of his guys would call, which meant in consequence, that I had time. Much more time to think than I liked.

So I just lay there for an unmentionable amount of time. Thinking.

Bella had been right. Again. I was running away from this whole mess. From prison, from Jacob Black and worst of all: from Bella herself. I did it after I had kissed her and now I had done it again. Stealing her car - what a great move, Cullen. I could have asked her or called a damn taxi for myself and just take the risk of getting caught. Everything would have been better than hearing her distressed words on the phone. How had I forgotten that the most important thing was that Bella was alright. I was being selfish and now she didn't sound alright at all.

After an hour or whatever amount of time might have passed, I finally tried to push the guilt-cloud away and move on already. I couldn't undo my actions now. And truth be told, what was the big deal anyway? The iPod I left with her was probably worth a lot more than that excuse of a car she drove. And I would let her steal my car any time of the day. She could have everything I owned and more. After all this mess I would buy her a new car. A nice red one, not too big though. A car that would fit her personality. Beautiful and fragile, but safe and comfortable. Or I could pay her taxi bills, rent a chauffeur if she wanted one, which I seriously doubted.

Time went by eventually and the sun was setting again while I stayed true to my word and didn't move from my spot on the bed at all. But now I had to, because my stomach was growling and I was in desperate need of something to put inside of it.

I pushed myself up from the bed, found my way down to the lobby and spotted one of those food-machines in a corner. I put some coins inside and got myself a can of salted peanuts. Very healthy, lots of proteins. You can't go wrong with peanuts. I had enough coins left for a bottle of water as well, and returned to my room without coming across other inhabitants of the hotel, which I was grateful for.

While I occupied myself with throwing peanuts above my head and catching them with my mouth, the night approached fast. I hummed a few tunes aloud and tried to sing myself to sleep, but that turned out to be not such a great idea. Every melody that haunted my mind sounded hopeless and desperate, or furious and aggravated, while my fingers itched to play them on a piano and make my thoughts somehow real. I got only more tense with my inner composing, so I stopped it again.

The alternative was to count the panels on the ceiling, which I had done only infinite times before. Boredom finally got the best of my consciousness and let me drift into another night of dreamless sleep.

When I awoke still dressed, lying in between the bags full of clothes, it was finally Sunday. With any luck at all Jason or one of his guys would approach me today with a new passport in hand. It was time to make arrangements for my flight so I wouldn't waste any more precious time when I would finally get the ID.

After a quick shower I rummaged through the bags on my bed and eventually got dressed in a plaid shirt and some jeans. The jeans were slipping over the floor because of their length, but it definitely could've been worse. It's not like I would attend some kind of fashion show anytime soon and it was very unlikely that I would be confronted by Alice today.

The nice lady at the reception was again not speaking to me when I asked her for the phone number of the airport. She handed me a phone book to look myself, while she was stupidly gawking at me the whole time.

Busying myself, with my nose close to the phone book, I tried to hide my face as good as possible. What if the police had already published some photos of me in the paper? Maybe I was already in the news. There weren't nearly as much murders as TV shows made us believe, so in reality this might be quite the big deal throughout the country.

With slightly sweaty fingers I hurried through the pages, finally found what I was looking for and saved the number into my mobile. Without so much as a second glance to the silent woman, I quickly returned to my room, closing the door carefully behind me.

I listened for any possible noises outside and got a little paranoid in the process. The last thing I needed was someone who had identified me, overhearing what I was about to do next. Well, that and the police showing up at my door the very next minute. I took a deep breath to calm down and dialled the number for the airport. They told me there was no direct flight to Reykjavik, but early Monday morning I could take the flight to Copenhagen and from there I could fly straight on to Iceland. That was as good as it was going to get, but as I asked her to reserve a seat for Anthony Masen, she refused, telling me without at least a credit card number she could do nothing for me.

But really, how many people were flying to Iceland in the middle of the week? I decided I would just try my luck on Monday morning at the airport.

I hung up and grabbed the half-empty tin of peanuts on the nightstand. Not in the mood for throwing and catching them any longer, they found their direct way into my mouth this time. I finished the can fast and to get rid of the salty taste I emptied the bottle of water as well.

And then I was bored. Even more so than before.

The only thing I would have liked to participate in, was calling Bella, but that was once again out of the question. As much as I would love to hear her voice, I wasn't ready for more yelling right now. So, this had to wait. A few days, maybe a week and then I would be back home, and do everything in my power to make it up to her. I would cherish her, fall to my knees and beg her to forgive me, if that was what it would take. But I couldn't fix it now. I needed to keep her out of this at all costs.

The consistent traffic noise was suddenly interrupted by my new phone ringing, beeping and vibrating, all pretty much at the same time. I really needed to download some mp3 to it. Those noises were terrible, nearly making my ears bleed.

"Hello?" I answered as quickly as I could to stop the high pitched sounds and because I was quite anxious about who might be calling.

"Edward? You are the worst best friend I ever had. Seriously, are you fucking insane? What the bloody hell is wrong with you? You told me you're going to Jason and then you just disappear for days. Your mobile is dead, you are never home. Your friends apparently mean nothing to you, do they? I worried about your sorry ass. I worried enough to call Jason and ask him what the hell he did to you!" Never before had I seen this side of Jasper. His normally calm and collected self was shouting and yelling at me furiously. If I didn't know I deserved all of his wrath, I would keep the phone at arm's lengths and away from my ears. When he was finished with his accusations, he took in a deep breath and good old calm Jasper was back. "God, I'm so glad you're okay. You are okay, aren't you? Can you please say something?"

I was at a loss for words. I really hadn't thought about him as soon as I was out of Jason's sight. There was my inner selfish bastard again.

"I'm eternally sorry Jasper. Really, I am. It's just.... I'm sorry, I don't even have an excuse. Yes I'm okay. As okay as an innocent murder suspect, who is a part-time car thief and passport falsifier can possibly be." I sighed. This wasn't getting any better when I said it out loud.

"You're still wallowing in self-pity Edward. You know that this is all your own.... wait a second. What about that car?"

"Don't ask!"

"Okay."

We were both silent again and this seemed to become a pattern of some sorts. Nobody knew what to say anymore. Not Bella, not Jasper and certainly not me. Besides I was anxious to hang up, because I expected Jason's call sometime soon. Apparently Jasper wasn't finished yet.

"So, you are alright?"

"Physically? Yes."

"Okay, so where are you and what are your plans now?" he asked sounding only mildly interested.

"I'm still in town." I hesitated. "Oh well, I already told Bella, so I might as well tell you. I'm going to Iceland tomorrow."

And when I thought this would be of interest to him, I was wrong.

"Who's Bella?" he demanded instead.

And that was quite a tricky question. A beautiful woman? A friend? My preferred future-wife to be? God, where did that come from?

"She's a journalist I met a few days ago."

"A bloody journalist? Seriously Edward, your mind's not right. We better hang up now. I can't have anything to do with this stuff anymore. It's one thing to act like a criminal and a whole other to tell the bloody press about it. I feel like I don't know you anymore. This is not about black and white films, wearing trench-coats and feeling all heroic about it, Edward. It's dangerous and you should stop it before you're digging your own grave."

"I know Jasper and I'm sorry. You and Alice be safe. Tell her I went shopping the other day. And don't worry. It's going to be fine."

"The nerve of you.... bye Edward."

And he hung up.

But before I could even lay the phone down, the vibrating, ringing and beeping started all over. I answered on the first ring and for once there was no yelling, but the rough and calm voice of Jason telling me how to proceed now.

"One of my guys is meeting you at the Angel Of The North around 10pm tonight. You know where that is?"

"Yes, I know."

"Very good, Pretty Boy. There won't be many people at that time of day and it's far enough out of town. At least when you can manage not being followed. If you're followed, or mess things up otherwise, the deal is over. Understood?"

"Absolutely. I will be there. Alone. Not-followed," I summarised, nodding my head in comprehension.

"I knew there was some intelligence left in you. Bring your mobile."

I confirmed that I would, but the line was already dead.

And then the silent roar of the traffic outside and the growling of my stomach were once again the only noises left. The unnerving boredom was back.

The minutes ticked by slowly, while I got up every half hour or so to stretch my legs, visit the bathroom and watch the rain outside as single raindrops ran down the window until they flowed together in a little puddle on the outer windowsill.

Around 8pm my patience was running out and the growing hunger wasn't bearable any longer. I gathered my things and was out the door and in Bella's car in mere seconds. I happily inhaled her scent, like I was some creepy predator, winding the trail of my prey. But it calmed my nerves and lessened the hunger, because every desire paled in comparison. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, which were easily making me sick, started the car and drove a few blocks down to buy myself something to eat at one of those drive-through fast food chains.

While driving further out of town, I reached over to the passenger seat, where I had placed the already cold chips and ate them hungrily. Rain was pouring down the wind-shield heavier now and Bella's wipers were rubbing noisily over the glass, leaving it full of ream nonetheless. It was a mystery how Bella could drive around in this thing. The rust and dirt were bearable, but this was unjustifiable, unsafe and nothing for my Bella.

I had to concentrate to see anything at all and was glad when I reached the highway, where not much traffic was in my way any longer. The rear-view mirror became my best friend throughout the ride. I couldn't risk being followed. The chances were slim, but they were there and this just had to work out perfectly.

I reached the Angel of the North much too early. The red monstrosity was standing proud as ever, wings outstretched. Sometimes it appeared inviting to me; like a welcome home greeting when I came back into town from the south. But not today. Today the red Angel loomed large above the land, casting long and dark shadows.

I kept sitting in the car in the middle of the muddy parking lot, chewing on the last chips, which were completely cold by then.

The hunger was minimised eventually, but the boredom was still there. Jasper had been right. No trench-coats, and no heroes were left in my life. Just a neverending boredom, spiced with sincere anxiety here and there.

To keep myself busy I looked around the area, which was nearly impossible, since the wipers were off and all the windows were fogging from the inside. I took a look at the old radio on the dashboard instead and pressed play on the cassette deck. There wasn't anything as important as the musical taste of someone. You can judge people on that alone. Well, at least I could.

Some beautiful classical music filled the car. Debussy followed by a couple of Sonatas from Beethoven, which fit perfectly to the dropping rain outside. Then the music switched to a tune, I imagined a trucker in Texas in the middle of a desert to listen to. A voice too full of smoke and whiskey, a beat too simple to be even mentioned and lyrics too obvious to even call them lyrics in the first place. I hated country music. I lived through it anyway, but then the music changed to loud basses, screaming and heavy guitars.

With one simple move I turned the radio off again. What kind of person was Bella? She was more difficult to read than anyone else. An enigma, even in her musical taste.

There was still about half an hour to go until my appointment, so I wiped away the fog from the glass with the sleeve of my shirt to get a better look on the outside world. And that's when I spotted her. Dark brown hair falling over her shoulders, a red umbrella towering over her head, her back to me. She walked up the hill, and followed the trail to the Angel of the North. She shouldn't be here. Not in the pouring rain, not now, not when Jason's guys were about to show up any minute. I snapped the doorhandle open and ran after her, without bothering to close the door. She was only strolling, kicking stones on her way and I was approaching her fast, calling her name in the process. But she didn't look up, the crackling noise of the rain on her umbrella probably muffled my calls.

"Bella," I called again. "You shouldn't be here. Go home, please!"

And then she turned and I was only a few feet away and stopped dead in my tracks. My heart fell at the sight of the woman in front of me. This wasn't Bella. This was some girl, frowning at me, her blue eyes confused and a little frightened.

"Who are you? My name's not Bella."

"No, apparently not. I'm... sorry. I just thought.... the umbrella, your... oh god, I'm a little paranoid and totally sorry," I rambled, running a hand through my hair in embarrassment. "I just confused you with someone else."

"You look disappointed. I'm sorry, I'm not the one you're looking for," she pitied me, the fright and confusion replaced with a curiosity I wasn't about to satisfy.

"No that's actually good. You're good. I'm sorry, I better get back into my car. You have a nice evening."

I turned and shuffled back to the car, my wet hair clinging onto my forehead.

The schizophrenic ways of my mind were about to cause an explosion in my heart. I wanted her to be as far away from this as possible and yet I was disappointed that it wasn't her. That I couldn't see her, touch her, talk to her, stand under the umbrella with her, forgetting about the cruelness of the world in our dry spot beneath our shield, which would keep the bad of the world away.

Or at least the rain.

I was soaked, the seat of the car was soaked and my feet slipped on the rubber-mat in the mud I brought inside with my shoes. If I thought it wasn't possible to make this car any shabbier, I thought wrong. And I couldn't care less.

The car's former scent was all gone. Bella was gone. Everything smelled like summer rain and wet leather and I didn't like it. I wanted Bella back. But Mr. Jagger said it best, you can't always get, what you want.

When the phone interrupted the monotonous thumps of the rain with its almost familiar vibrating, ringing, beeping thing again, I was anxious to get this over with as fast as humanly possible and leave for Iceland already.

But the phone wasn't entirely open yet when I already heard Alice' musical voice directed at me.

"Edward? Who is Bella? Tell me everything! Jasper didn't tell me and I know that there's something going on with you and this girl. He thinks you're stupid, but I know you aren't. Well most of the time you aren't. So how old is she? Is she pretty? When can I meet her? And why do you have a new phone number again? I haven't seen you for such a long time. We should meet up and play something again. Does Bella play an instrument, too? Or maybe she could sing?"

"Hey Alice. Bella is a journalist." I tried to keep my freshly awakened emotions to myself, but probably to no avail. "She's in her mid-twenties, I guess. Yes, very. Not anytime soon. Because I needed a new phone. I don't know and I guess she wouldn't want that. Alice, listen, I'm waiting for an important phone call and I'm sorry for being rude, but we need to hang up now."

"No, Mister, not before you tell me exactly how you feel about this Bella girl. I can tell you feel something towards her. You say she's pretty, huh?"

"Yeah well, she hates me, she loves to yell at me and yes she's incredibly beautiful."

"Oh, she sounds perfect for you, Edward." I could literally hear her clap her hands in appreciation and I stayed clueless how she managed that with a phone in one hand.

"It's not like that, Alice. What did Jasper tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything. That's why I called you, silly. But now I know enough, I guess. Wait, one more thing. What's her full name?"

"Her name is Bella Swan. But Alice, don't you dare talk to her about..."

"Bella Swan as in Isabella Swan the journalist at Newcastle Weekly? Oh Edward, she's such a sweet girl. And I heard she's amazing in her job. I will definitely drop by their office tomorrow and introduce myself properly to her. I have met her a few times, but we never really talked. And now I have an excuse. This will be so much fun Edward. Jasper said you're going to leave the city for some time? When will you be back? We can go on double-dates or something. I'm so happy for you."

I groaned and not only inwardly. Her talking about dates and fun-times when I was sitting in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere waiting for my fake passport, running from the police was the last thing I needed.

"Alice! Stop this. Bella and I.... we don't even talk right now. You can't go and talk to her. She doesn't want anything to do with me and I certainly don't want you to have anything to do with her. Well, not until I have figured everything out on my own. So stop being so pushy all the time." I pinched the bridge of my nose, aggravated by the whole situation.

She was silent and I instantly knew my words had been too harsh. As tough as she seemed to be on the outside, sometimes she was just a sensitive girl on the inside.

"I just want you to be happy, Edward. After all you've been through," she whispered, her spirit almost gone.

"I know Alice, but Bella and I... it's complicated. And I don't want this any more messed up than it already is."

"This is about that murder you're accused of, right? Edward we all know you didn't do anything. I know there's something you're up to and since Jasper isn't telling me anything I know it's something illegal. But you know we'll stand behind you no matter what, right? Whatever Jasper told you, he still got your back when you need him." She said this with so much confidence and although I knew this in the depth of my heart, it was good to hear. Good to know I had friends, who were still there when everything else came crashing down.

"I know, thank you Alice. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot right now, but things will be alright once I finish my trip."

I wasn't so sure about that, but I needed her to be her happy self again. Alice wasn't supposed to be sad. She was supposed to be the optimist of us, have faith in the future that was about to come and let her spirit wash over us.

"I know that Edward, but I hope you know as well." She stopped for a second and then added: "I'm still going to visit her tomorrow, Edward."

There was not much left for me to say. If Alice had set her mind on something she wouldn't back down.

"Alright Alice, you do that and keep an eye on her while I'm gone. But please try to not mention me?"

"I can't promise you that, my friend," she answered, having her spark almost entirely back. "But don't think about it. You concentrate on coming back in one piece and get your stuff together already!"

How could I not think about it, when it involved Bella? But I agreed, having not much of a choice and we hung up eventually.

I pulled the sleeve of my shirt down a little so that it reached over my hand and wiped the windows clear of the fog once more. This time I didn't see a girl with an red umbrella. The shadows of the night were slowly taking away the last dreary lights of the day. The high humidity in the car made the glasses fog again and again and I was wiping away everything as good as I could with my wet clothes. Ten minutes passed, fifteen minutes passed and then twenty minutes had passed, when a black limousine with tinted glasses turned into the dark parking lot. My phone rang immediately and unexpectedly a female voice greeted me.

"Edward Cullen? Are you the one in that shabby car?"

I wanted to correct her and tell her that she had no right to call anything that was Bella's shabby, but I knew she was right, when you looked at it objectively, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Yes, that would be me."

"This is Jane. Did someone follow you?"

"No, not a soul."

"Good. Then come over to my car. I'm not interested in going out during this weather."

Wasn't I one lucky guy? All those nice people circling around my life?! I sighed, hung up and walked across the parking area to the black Limousine. This time closing the door of Bella's car carefully behind me, although it was of no use. The wetness was everywhere already. I walked through the ankle-high grass to the passenger seat, opened it and slipped inside. I wasn't sure, if I was welcomed to do so, but the wind was blowing restlessly now, the rain beating against my face. I was sick of it.

"Hi, you must be Jane," I said, turning my head towards her and extending my hand. I tried to make my voice sound light and carefree, which it sure as hell wasn't.

"Yes, and you are the infamous Edward Cullen," she stated, ignoring my hand and let her gaze flicker over my whole self. "They said you're supposed to be pretty." She paused again, to stare at my face a little longer and I couldn't stop my hand from going through my hair out of bad habit. "I think you're boring."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. But you're right. I am boring."

My left hand lingered in my hair, the other one gripping my upper thigh. This woman made me feel overly uncomfortable. If looks could kill, I would be dead. Her confident stare was almost causing me physical pain as it was.

"Yeah well, it's not your fault. It's just aggravating that I wasted my evening, even volunteered to come. Anyway. This is your passport."

With a shrug, she handed me the piece of paper and I looked it through. Anthony Masen, born in London, with a photo where they photoshopped my hair shorter than it usually was. But it still looked like me. Kind of.

"Why are you still sitting there?" Jane asked after I barely finished looking everything over. "I've got things to do, now that I've decided I don't want to spend my evening with you."

She stared at me expectantly and I was out the door, saying my goodbye sooner than she was able to blink twice.

The next two hours passed in a blur. Bella's car started with a loud noise, blue dust probably coming out of the exhaust. I was forced to drive it slowly down the muddy road, because the tires were worn down and I wasn't even sure if this thing had airbags. I made a quick stop at the hotel, gathered my things and laid the keys to the room onto the reception desk. There was no need to talk to the weird silent woman again when there were no answers anyway.

The drive to the airport passed uneventful and I parked Bella's car in some spot in a parking garage, although I would have liked to leave it at a junkjard instead.

But I figured I should at least tell Bella before I have her car disposed for good.

The minor need to clean my junkfood-mess was easily ignored, because it really didn't make any difference in her car. I gathered my bunch of bags, closed the car carefully, although anyone stealing this mess would bring it back the next day anyway, and headed for the elevators.

After one last look back at Bella's car I followed the small blue arrows leading me to the departure terminal. And towards new hope.

Chapter End Notes:

The Angel Of The North is a sculpture in Gateshead, on a hill South of Newcastle. It was built in 1998 and for pictures and more information you can just google it. It's not that important for the story, though.

Songs mentioned in this chapter belong to Ryan Adams, The Rolling Stones, Beethoven, Debussy and other unmentioned musicians.

So do you think the infamous Edward Cullen is boring? And what's wrong with truck drivers in Texas, Edward?