Sorry it took me so long to put up the chapter, but between school, work and writer's block; it was hard to keep up. But anyways, here's chapter two: the theme song is "Question Existing" by Rihanna.

Take me apart, piece by piece
Sorrow decrease, pressure release

I put in work
Did more than called upon, more than deserved
When it was over, did I wind up hurt?
Yes, but it taught me, before a decision, ask this question first

Who am I living for?

"Psst, Bella?"

I groaned and turned my head the opposite way of the voice. It was way too early for this.

"C'mon Bella, wake up" the voice pleaded again. I groaned again, this time placing my pillow over my head; anything to stay asleep. It was silent and then without warning, my covers were ripped off and a blinding light shined through my eyelids. "Ugh, please just leave me be. Take the t.v, but let. Me. Sleep." I could hear a guy's voice laughing on my right, but I remained still. "Bella, just wake up or Emmett'll push you off the bed," I peeked out through one eye, away from the light, and saw a familiar pair of amused green eyes that diffinately didn't belong to my brother.

They belonged to Edward Cullen,

my brother's best friend,

one of my best friends,

my roomate.

I sighed exageratingly before pushing myself up into a sitting position. "Why are you here, it's too fucking early in the mornin' to bother me," I glared at the two bafoons in question and frowned when my actual sibling guffawed through a covered mouth. " Wow, looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but alas, you won't ruin my mood." He was practically vibrating in his seat. Edward snorted loudly as I rose an eyebrow at my brother. "Emmett, if you're up this early, Rose must not be putting out, huh? You know you could always just masturbate," He immediately stopped and glared at me, while his best friend clutched his stomach, barely holding in laughter at our exchange. Emmett stuck his tongue out at me; his smile returning and he resumed his excited jumping. "Actually Rose doesn't know I'm home yet, just got here a half hour ago. But rest assured, she'll be happy to see the 'Emm-ster'" He rose a hand through his hair and grinned mischeviously; basically letting me in on something pure TMI. Emmett had flown out to Japan for a seven-month-long business trip, he'd been helping foster children, there, find better homes and set them on track for better futures.

Being six foot-seven inches and having the muscles of a retired wrestler, the irony was almost ludacrous.

"Whatever, dude. Anyways, what time is it?" I layed back down on my back and stared at the ceiling, too tired to check for myself. I heard a snort "It's two in the afternoon," Edward answered me before he, abrubtly,grabbed my arm and lifted me off the bed. I stumbled a bit and he had to use a second arm to steady me.

"Jerk," I muttered and he threw a grin my way before he left the room. After throwing another glare at Emmett, who was pressing his lips together to hide his amusement, I left the room and headed toward the kitchen. I looked through through the refrigerator and found a carton of orange juice on the top shelf. After pouring myself a cup, I walked in the livingroom and stood behind the large khaki couch. As I run a hand on the leather interior, I find myself somehow thinking of the first day I saw the hideous thing.

It was actually a year ago, I'd just come home from a impossibly everlasting day of working as an architect, but when I walked through the door-after nearly spilling my coffee on the door-I was full alert. "Edward?" I pratically yelled. Edward, who'd at the time had been my roomate for only three weeks, entered the room, knowing exactly what I was asking. "I know what you're thinking, but it's only there to protect my manhood."

"Protect your manhood?"

"Yeah, duh, almost everything in this house is 'girlified' or whatever word I'm looking for. I mean seriously, what's up with the walls?" he gestured towards the black and white intricate design. I glared at him, thinking about smashing his head into that wall. "Dude, it's not 'girlified,' it's classy"

"It's feminine,"

I made a gesture to myself. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm a female. I mean I do have boobs."

He gave me a weird glance and, like a real drama queen, placed both hands on both sides of his face. "Really, those are boobs? I thought they were the mumbs."

I'd thrown a pillow, my coffee and a tantrum, but eventually he was forgiven, the couch was kept and the walls were painted navy-blue afterward.

Compromise was the number key to living in the same house with the world's most sexist guy in history.

"So,Bella, where's Mike?"

I'd been drinking a glass of orange juice, but when Emmett asked that and brought me out of my reverie, I nearly spit out my drink. I had a mini coughing fit for a few seconds before I felt a hand pound almost painfully on my back, effectivally ending my chocking. I turned around to see Emmett looking down at me with a mix of concern and curiousity. "Thanks, I'm good." I brush past him into the kitchen, searching through sevral drawers before I encounter a small rag to dab the juice out my shirt. "Alright," he says propping himself up on the doorway and looking at me. "What happened?"

For some odd reason, I'm suddenly angry at nothing, so I'm fairly shocked at myself when I suddenly blurt out:

" Go ask that whore you call a sister."