Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight, but I do own a fab Wall-E pen!
A/N – I'm sooo sorry this took so long to update but real life got in the way by that I mean sick kids, college work and the cold from hell! It's only a short chapter (Bitch slaps self) but an important one!
Chapter 11 – Truth 3rd Person
The days following Edward's reunion with his mother seemed to fly past him in a haze of lightness caused by the weight of guilt being lifted from his shoulders. He spent his days at New Directions just marvelling how different his life was now and enjoying the quiet. Many of the residents had been found some work in a local business which he refused due to wanting some time to himself. He hadn't seen much of Bella as her classes for the final semester in the UK had started up again and she was only working at weekends now.
He hadn't touched his guitar since he'd rescued it from the depths of his bedroom for fear that any music he attempted to play wouldn't be any good. I was also a little scared of what the others would say about him strumming away. It wasn't as if he looked like a rocker or even played what would be seen as 'cool' rock type songs. The hazard of being classically trained.
On the morning of the fifth day, Edward sat in the dining room with a bowl of cereal and that morning's newspaper when Carlisle, who had been covering a lot of extra shifts for Bella, came in with a package for him.
"Do you know who sent it?" He asked the supervisor who was looking tired from all his extra hours.
"No idea son, but it has got a local postmark." Carlisle was curious as to what someone would send this quiet and changed young man. "Do want me to make a cuppa?" Edward nodded distractedly as he began to unwrap the brown paper. The gasp that escaped him was audible across the room. Carlisle turned to see him pull out a thick pile of what looked to be school exercise books. He finished making the tea and placed a mug on the table keeping his own in his slender hand. "Are you ok?" He was surprised to see tears silently streaming down Edward's face.
"I can't believe she kept them." He ran his hand lovingly over the cover of one of the books in front of him. "I threw these away after my dad left." He seemed to be almost speaking to himself.
"May I?" The gentle youth worker reached out for one of the book once he'd been given a small nod of permission. He opened it, not really knowing what to expect, but definitely getting more than he bargained for. Pages upon pages of beautifully presented, hand written music. "Are these yours?"
"From another life." Edward had managed to compose himself and removed all trace of his minor breakdown.
"Edward, I know a minute amount about music, but these look like extremely complex compositions. How old are they?"
"Few years I guess. I haven't touched any of them for at least two years."
"So, you wrote these in your early teens. And Younger?" he surprise and admiration was evident in the older man's voice. "What instruments do you play?" He looked at the young man in a whole new light. He couldn't wait to share this information with Bella.
"Piano, guitar and I had just taken up the drums." There was no boasting in Edward's tone, he was just stating facts. If anything, he sounded slightly embarrassed of his musical proficiency.
"That's very impressive for someone of your age Edward. Why did you stop?" Carlisle began to tread carefully, he didn't want to let on how much he knew of Edward's past.
"When my dad buggered off with…Her, I found myself too angry to be involved with music. For me, music should involve those emotions that deal with the happiest and saddest parts of life to have any kind of effect on those who listen to it. I personally feel that anger has no place in music. Not mine anyway." It was a more mature rationale than Carlisle had ever expected from a resident from the hostel.
"Why didn't you try to channel your anger in such a way as to create something positive, rather than turning to petty crime? I understand that you have a very supportive network of friends around you."
"To be totally honest with you, I don't know why I did the things I did. I'd love to be able to give you a reason, but I can't. All I know is that I wish I could turn back time and do things totally differently." Edward ran his hands through his hair a few times as he seemed to be attempting to organise his train of thought. "When I was growing up, I always new mum and dad were proud of me and what I accomplished with my music, but when mine and mum's lives were turned upside down by my arse of a father I stopped caring what they thought. After a while, there was never any pride in mum's eyes when she looked at me. There was despair. I never want her to look at me like that again." Edward seemed completely surprised at how much he had said. He noticed Carlisle's eyes shift from his own to the door behind him. Edward turned to see Bella stood in the doorway with tears in her eyes. Carlisle stood and patted Edward on the shoulder before leaving the room. He spoke softly to Bella before leaving them alone.