And finally here we are the much talked about chapter 4, hope you all enjoy it.

A million thank you's to everyone who has reviewed and added this to their alerts/favorites, you guys are amazing. Big huge hug to my Beta MadeleineJade, who just posted the epilogue to her amazing story The Daily Grind.

Songs used in this chapter

Me Vs. Maradona Vs. Elvis - Brand New

Garden Statement - Hidden In Plain View

Tatou - Brand New

All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer and all songs belong to the above mentioned artists.

I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing. The light pouring through the window was blinding, and I couldn't seem to figure out where the buzzing was coming from.

"Ugh! What the fuck?" she growled as she reached under her pillow and tossed my phone at me. "Shut it up already!" she groaned and pulled my pillow over her face. I sighed and slid the bar across the screen.

"Hello," I sighed groggily into the iPhone.

"Edward this is Angela. I'm calling from Sweet Ups." The girl beside me huffed and climbed out of bed, I hoped she'd be gone before she had the chance to realize that I had no interest to even remember her name let alone take her out and buy her flowers like the unrealistic fantasy boyfriend she dreamed up in her head. Or maybe she was just another girl who wanted to try a crack at fucking Edward Cullen so she could brag to all her friends about it in a seedy Williamsburg bar.

"Oh hello. How are you?" I asked. Angela managed the bar Sweet Ups in Williamsburg where I played most Wednesday nights. I loved playing but I hated playing for yuppies who dressed in rags but had Amex Black cards in Prada wallets in the back pockets of their Marc Jacobs trousers. I hated their fancy micro brewed beers and trendy facial hair but this was the price I had to pay to be somewhat less miserable. I'd already given up trying to live the idealistic life my parents had wanted for me. I held a steady 9 to 5 job for a few years before my cubicles walls started to close in and I felt like I would stop breathing if I had to spend one more day living for the morning commute.

"I'm good, thanks. Look I'm sorry to call you on such short notice and I know Wednesday night is usually your night but do you think you could come in to play tonight? I understand that it's Friday but you will be compensated well for your time," she said nervously.

"Let me make a few calls first and I will let you know in about an hour or so," I responded in a smooth tone.

"Yeah. No problem. I look forward to hearing from you."

I hung up the phone and glanced at the clock, it was 12:30pm already. Sighing I grabbed my guitar and made my way to the living room, walking quietly and cautiously through the apartment, unsure if the girl from last night was still around. I breathed a sigh of relief when I had noticed she was gone.

I sat down in the big leather chair that was situated by the window that overlooked the Williamsburg Bridge. It was for all intents and purposes, my writing chair, the warm brown color of the leather and comfy worn in seat made it the ideal place to sit and write all day.

Growing up I had the idealistic life, two loving parents, a brother and a sister, as well as anything I could ever want material wise. But I'd always felt empty. It was that sort of feeling people described as standing in a crowd and going completely unnoticed, except the crowd did notice me, every single one of those fuckers. I just failed to notice any of them. The one time someone stood out from the rest it blew up in my face and I put a stop to that shit right away. It was then that I quit trying to connect.

Alice and Emmett understood that I loved them as much as I was capable of but that there was a big part of me that they'd never understand, that no one would understand. Alice was the youngest out of the three of us. She was incredibly smart and extremely goal oriented. There wasn't a task that Alice couldn't complete apart from fixing her fucked up brother.

Emmett was the oldest. He lived up to that small town golden boy standard. He was good at every sport he tried and the only thing he seemed to fail at was failing itself.

That left me in the middle, the black sheep, and the fuck up. The only thing I seemed to be good at was my music. My mother had encouraged me to take piano lessons when I was a child in order to give me an outlet. I had taken to it quickly and practiced every chance I could, but that never seemed to matter. Every recital I had always seemed to coincide with one of Emmett's games or one of Alice's ballet recitals or plays.

"We get to see you play at home every day sweet heart, someone has to be there to support your brother and sister," she'd say.

So at the ripe age of 10 I realized that the only person I could ever really rely on was myself. But I could never blame my brother and sister for the lack of support my parents had given me. To battle the loneliness, I'd take girls home from the bars after playing. It wasn't hard; I never even had to try. I never fucked any of them. Sure I would fool around with them but I'd never take anything off and it was always in the dark. Some people would argue that anyone could fuck without being intimate but sleeping next to someone was true intimacy. I thought it was a bullshit line to make everyone feel better about his or her one night stands and bathroom stall hook ups.

I could sleep next to a new girl every night and not give a flying fuck about her in the morning, but sex was different. When you were naked and hovering over someone there were no secrets, no places to hide. Just the thought of it was unbearable. I pushed the thoughts out of my head as I began to strum aimlessly on my guitar. I planned on saying yes to Angela the minute she asked, but it was better to play hard to get then seem like some desperate musician who was hard up for cash.

Before long the strumming of my fingers took on a mind of its own, I grabbed a blank paper and began writing out the notes. Once the music was all written I sat back staring at the sky while I replayed it until the lyrics started to formulate in my head. Setting my guitar aside I grabbed the pen from behind my ear and opened my notebook to a blank page and began writing the words down.

With one or two I get used to the room

We go slow when we first make our moves

By five or six bring you out to the car

Number nine with my head on the bar

And it's sad, but true

Out of cash and I.O.U's

I've got desperate desires and unadmirable plans

My tongue will taste of gin and malicious intent

Bring you back to the bar

Get you out of the cold

A sober, straight face gets you out of your clothes

And they're scared that we know

All the crimes they'll commit

Who they'll kiss before they get home

I will lie awake

Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you

Let you fall for every empty word I say

Barely conscious in the door where you stand

Your eyes are fighting sleep while your mouth makes its demands

You laugh at every word trying hard to be cute

I almost feel sorry for what I'm going to do

And your hair smells of smoke

Who will cast the first stone?

You can sin or spend the night all alone

Brass buttons on your coat hold the cold

In the shape of a heart that they cut out of stone

You're using all your looks that you've thrown from the start

If you let me have my way I swear I'll tear you apart

Cause it's all you can be

You're a drunk and you're scared

It's ladies night, all the girls drink for free

I will lie awake

And lie for fun and fake the way I hold you

Let you fall for every empty word I say

I will lie awake

And lie for fun and fake the way I hold you

Let you fall for every empty word I say

I will lie awake

And lie for fun and fake the way I hold you

Let you fall for every empty word I say

I smiled victoriously at the pages I had written and closed the book, mentally patting myself on the back. I made it a point to write at least a song a day, some times they'd end up being shit, but I noticed that in a bar full of drunks, no one really knew what the fuck you were singing about anyway.

After calling Angela back and accepting her invitation, I proceeded to text Emmett and Alice to let them know where I would be playing tonight. Despite my standoffishness, they always made it to every one of my shows. They were fiercely loyal, loyal to a fault. Alice had mentioned that Emmett and Rose went to visit one of her cousins in Washington or some shit, but I wasn't sure if he was back yet but I sent him a text anyway. I received a reply from him almost immediately.

See you there. Rose is coming with her cousin so let Garrett know for me.

Garrett was the doorman at most bars I played in. Seeing as how half my friends were just below the 21 mark, it was better for me to have him on my good side. As long as I sent a few groupies and beers his way then he'd turn the other cheek and pretend to be dyslexic when it came to birth years. He was a shady motherfucker but a wise ass one as well. He'd give Emmett, Jasper and me the most mind fucking advice when it came to women. I guess he hadn't figured out that Emmet was happily married, Jasper was a slave for life, and I refused to ever give a fuck.

I called Garrett to let him know about our "special" guest and threw my phone on the coffee table when my call was done. It landed with a thud next to a business card that appeared to have the remnants of a red lipstick kiss on it.

"Real fucking original," I mumbled to myself and tossed the card away. I glanced at the name quickly, Lauren, another useless fucking name to add to the other nonexistent notches in my bedpost.

I took my time getting ready, opting for the usual black t-shirt and jeans. No one would remember what I wore and it would all smell like booze and a collection of overpriced perfumes mixed with the smell of American Spirits by the end of the night anyway. Fucking hipsters and their fancy organic cigarettes. You'll still get cancer.

I got off the L at Grand street and walked down to the corner of Graham, I could already see a crowd of people gathered outside of the bar smoking their cigarettes and chatting. Walking around the crowd I gave a sly smile to Garrett who was standing at the door with his arms across his chest. Once noticing me he opened the door and motioned me in with his hand.

"What's that, big man, not gonna ID me?" I asked sarcastically.

"Shut the fuck up, Cullen," he responded

I walked past him into the bar and heard him mumble something along the lines of "Better throw some pussy my way tonight." I chuckled and took a seat at the bar, gingerly placing my guitar besides me. The front of the bar housed booths and the back had a long counter lining the wall with stools pushed underneath. The pink velvet Victorian wallpaper covered the walls of the entire place but the lights were so fucking dim that no one ever seemed to notice their beauty.

"Hey, Kate," I greeted with a nod to the bartender.

"Oh hey, Edward, what can I get you tonight?" she asked while she pulled the lever on the tap. I thought for a second while I watched the beer pour into the glass.

"I'll have a Sweet Up's," I said with a sigh. The house drink, the bar's namesake, was just PBR, but for some fucking reason unbeknownst to me, they refused to call it by it's name. She slid the beer to me and I slid her a five-dollar bill.

"Everything is on the house for you tonight," she said as she pushed the bill back.

I shook my head in protest at her, "Well, then it's for you."

"Thanks," she replied as she put the bill in her back pocket.

Kate had been friends with us since we first moved to New York. She served me my first drink when I turned 21 and had kept them coming since. She was about 5'5 with long brown hair, she was probably the prettiest girl I'd met in New York so far and despite her innocent looks, she was feisty. She was the sort of girl I'd probably be interested in if I was normal but I knew that Garrett had a thing for her. He only opened the door for customers so he could peek his head inside and ogle her.

After finishing my beer I stood up and grabbed my guitar making my way to the back of the club. I grabbed a stool and sat down on the makeshift stage and did a quick sound check. Glancing around I noticed that a group of people had already made their way to the area, giving an acknowledging nod to Alice and Jasper I glanced down at my hand to take a peak at my set list.

I adjusted the microphone to the correct level and blankly stared at the crowd, "Hey, I'm Edward Cullen," I greeted with a forced smile. I leaned back a little further on my stool and began to strum the notes to the first song. When it was time to sing I leaned into the mic and let out a breath of air before I began to sing.

The traffic's backed for miles

On these quiet suburban roads

While the rubber necking strangers

Are dying to see these victims' wounds

'Cause he's all-alone

With his notebooks and poems

In this open grave where he wrote

All of his secrets

That became his lyrics

With no intent to show anyone

I strummed the cords harder before starting the chorus.

And we give, and we give

But it's all for nothing

Its all for nothing

We try to resist,

But I gave everything

And its all for nothing

So the panic sets and cycles

His mind for restless sleep

And while the blood-sucking leeches

Contaminate every line they read

Just leave him alone in this dark room (tightly wrapped cocoon)

This white sheet, his tightly wrapped cocoon

Cause its no secret

I fucking need this

Like I don't need anyone

Chorus:

And we give, and we give

But it's all for nothing

Its all for nothing

We try to resist,

But I gave everything

And its all for nothing

I sat back and strummed with my eyes closed breathing heavily before singing again.

It's like I'm falling asleep with my eyes open

shutting down and off the lights

cause after all of this it's all or nothing

still I wouldn't try to ...

I've fallen asleep with my eyes open

(and you'll lie to all your friends)

(about sights you never saw)

Shutting down and off the lights

(and you'll preach to all the press)

(about what you don't know at all)

Cause after all of this it's all or nothing

Still I wouldn't try to fight

I opened my eyes and began playing the notes with more emotion, vaguely aware of the silence that had fallen upon the bar.

So let me drown so I can breathe again

I'm through choking and suffocating

On alter egos and alter motives

Which weigh you down and take control of

The way you are and the things that you need

The life you live and the dreams that you dream

Distort and blur all in slow motion

They broke you down and now you're broken

(Spill the ink and spill your guts again)

And it's sadder than the saddest movie

I ever saw but without the beauty

So I stopped watching, I stopped caring

I've lost all interest and I stopped wearing

These plastic smiles, I've washed my hands clean

Forget that you forgot about me

And I'm living life, the big city feeling

It's better than suburban dreaming

I inhaled a deep breath and began singing with more anger in my voice.

Living off the friends that hate you

Talk shit on me like I don't know who

My real friends are anymore, no,

I don't know you anymore

And it's sadder than the saddest movie

I ever saw, but without the beauty

So I stopped watching, I stopped caring

Stopping my strumming I yelled into the mic.

Spill the ink and spill your guts again!

I picked up where I left off with my strumming and began singing again

I've fallen asleep with my eyes open

(And you'll lie to all your friends)

(About sights you never saw)

Shutting down and off the lights

(And you'll preach to all the press)

(About what you don't know at all)

'Cause after all of this it's all or nothing

Still I wouldn't try to fight

I let the last notes fade out before I said thank you breathlessly into the microphone. Everyone clapped and I repeated my previous thank you's again, directing them more to Alice and Jasper who were standing close by giving me the thumbs up.

"I'm just gonna sit here and fuck around before the next song, feel free to watch." I said as I picked up my guitar and began strumming aimlessly. I must have been playing for a few minutes not noticing the time, when my eyes had drifted to the door. That's when I saw her. Behind Rosalie and Emmett walked in a short brunette with brown eyes and a nervous smile across her face, she must have been Rose's cousin.

When the trio had united with my sister and Jasper in the front I began to notice all of her features. Her skin was pale and showed no sign of color even though we were past the summer months and almost into September. Her hair reminded me of the chocolate brown color of my writing chair and her warm brown eyes conveyed the same feeling of comfort in me.

Somehow through my observation the notes began to take shape, and I boldly leaned into the microphone and started to sing the lyrics as they came to me softly in almost a whisper.

I'm sinkin' like a stone in the sea

I'm burning like a bridge from your body

I'm sinkin' like a stone in the sea

I'm burning like a bridge from your body

I'm sinkin' like a stone in the sea

I'm burning like a bridge from your body...

I must have been singing with my eyes closed because when I strummed the last notes I forced them open, her eyes were glued on mine, and I couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful, and immediately, I loathed her.

and there it is, hope you loved it. On a sour note I tried out for the Reelz Channel Twicon Correspondent contest last month and I am 99.9% sure I did not make the final cut, your reviews would make me very very very happy! I do however appear in their sneek peak video towards the end, I'm Tiffany Reyes if you guys wanna see me talk and swing a mic around nervously! Reviewers get sneak peaks ;) The updates will slow down from now because I want to keep myself ahead but I will update every 3 - 4 days if possible!