Disclaimer- The characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, not me.

Warning- not wussperv safe.

BPOV

"Honey, I'm home," I said, entering my apartment in Seattle. The TV was on, and Alice and Jasper were eating Chinese while watching a Netflix movie.

"Hi," Alice called. "How did the day with Charlie go?"

"It went," I replied, setting my keys down on the end table. I headed straight for my room, burying my face in the pillows.

"Oh, Bella." Alice appeared in the doorway of my bedroom. Dizzy, our cat, jumped up on the bed beside me, sensing my sense of distress.

"Why can't I get through a day without thinking about it?" I asked, my face still in the pillow.

"It was never your fault," she said, climbing onto the bed, hugging me. "We love you."

"Charlie asked about you," I offered.

"Well, that's good," Alice said. "I like to hear about Charlie. He's doing alright?"

"Yes, he goes fishing with Billy three times a week, now," I said, miserably, rubbing the almost imperceptible lump on my forearm.

"Do you need a Xanax?" she asked.

"No… yes," I said.

"I'll be right back," she said.

She bound off the bed. The panic attacks were so terrible. I just wanted to live a normal life, that was all. Why was the past still haunting me?

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Alice had done my hair up with the curling iron and made me wear a blue sequined cocktail dress. It was a pretty dress, but on me, it made me look like somebody I wasn't. Dizzy jumped up on the counter to say goodnight to us. "OK, are you ready?" Alice asked, putting on an earring. She was wearing a black and white checked minidress.

"I think so," I said.

"Let's get a move on!" Jasper said. "Come on. I've been waiting twenty minutes for you two!"

"Alright, we're coming!" Alice complained. "Let me get my purse."

I put on my good navy pea coat- the best coat I owned while Alice hunted down her good handbag. I didn't bother to change my handbag. I was just going to take my Target purse with me to this cocktail party.

I watched, feeling sad, but not jealous, as Jasper helped Alice into her black trench coat. He held the door open for us as we went downstairs and they made jokes about how I never got out. They tried so hard to help me socialize. Alice Cullen was like the sister I never had, but I always felt guilty at the amount of effort she put forth with me. She didn't have to do what she did, but she did. I wondered when everybody was going to get sick of me.

"So, tell me again, how do you know these people?" I asked.

"I know Emmett from work," Jasper said, as I got into the backseat. Alice climbed in shotgun. "This is his unofficial engagement party."

"What's his fiancée's name?" I asked.

"Rosalie, I think," Alice answered. "She works at a law firm."

"I think it's down the street from your art gallery," Jasper said to Alice.

"Oh, cool," Alice replied.

"Do you know where they met?" I asked. " I just want to know about them, since I'm crashing."

"You're not crashing, Bella!" Alice cried.

"A lot of people are crashing this party," Jasper said. "Don't worry about it."

"What else to I need to know?" I asked.

"Well, their friend Edward Masen is the one throwing the party," Jasper said. "It's his apartment we're going to. It's a great apartment. It was built in 1907…" Jasper, being an architect, rattled on and on about the building. Alice just rolled her eyes at me and smiled in the mirror.

Jasper drove down to historic district to a beautiful building. It was a gorgeous- I could get where the party was- there were white Christmas lights out on the railing and the door to the apartment was open. We took our bottle of wine and went up the stairs.

I could see why Jasper and this Emmett fellow liked this place. It was beautiful and well cared for. I climbed the stairs after Jasper and Alice and we entered the apartment, where people were already milling around, chatting and drinking.

I was checking the shininess of my nose in a compact when I saw something I didn't want to- a man with black hair in a buzz cut. I almost lost it. I felt my chest get tight and my vision blur. My ears buzzed, and I couldn't hear anything. I looked at him. Wrong person.

But still, my pulse was racing. My heart pounded. My fight-or-flight wasn't done with me, yet. I stumbled through the hallway and into the kitchen, my adrenaline pounding. I tried to open my purse to find my Xanax. I had left my vial of Xanax in my backpack.

"Bella?" Alice had been chatting with some of the other party guests. "Bella?"

"Alice," I whispered, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"Let me get a drink for you," she said. She held my hand. "Hi," she addressed the young man at the counter cheerfully. "Can you make a cosmopolitan for my friend, here?"

"Of course," he said. I noticed his bronze hair. It was beautiful. I had never seen hair like that before. He was wearing a crisp, white button-down shirt that was partially unbuttoned. He had on a white tee shirt underneath it and was wearing a pair of crisp khakis. I held onto Alice's arm. "Is she alright?"

"She just needs some space," Alice said.

"My bedroom's pretty cleared out," he said. "The two of you can go in there for her to calm down."

"Thanks," Alice answered. "So, you're Edward Masen?"

"Yes, just call me Edward," he said. He handed Alice the drink. I held onto Alice's shoulder and he escorted us to the bedroom, which had been blocked off from the rest of the party. "Does she need a cold compress?" he asked.

"Yes," Alice said, helping me onto the bed. She handed me the cosmo.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she needs to be on Zoloft or something for anxiety," he said. What does he know? I thought. "Alcohol isn't going to help."

"Well, your thoughts are nice," Alice said, "but really, we don't need your armchair medical advice."

"I wouldn't say it's armchair medical advice," he said, chuckling, leaving the room.

"God, some guys are so full of themselves," Alice muttered. She stroked my hair. "What happened."

"I thought I saw Jim again," I said, softly. I ran my fingers over the lump on my forearm. Alice was one of the few people that knew what happened to me. I held her hand for a moment. "I take it that was the host."

"Yeah, I guess so," Alice said. "The guests of honor haven't shown up, yet."

"I wonder what's holding them up," I said.

She was trying to distract me, to get me to think about something else. I was stealing her good time at the party from her. Angry tears welled up in my eyes at myself. Edward Masen reappeared with a cold compress.

"Here," he said, offering me the compress.

"Thanks," I said, Alice took it and pressed it to my forehead.

There was a cheer from the main part of the apartment, and we knew that the guests of honor had entered.

"Gotta run," Edward replied, and disappeared.

"Honey, why are you crying?" Alice asked. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, I've already ruined your night at the party," I said between soft sobs.

"You don't ruin anything, Bella," Alice said, resting her head on my shoulder. "I love you."

"I'm keeping you from the party," I said.

"I don't know these people," she replied.

"You could," I said.

"So what?" Alice said. "They aren't as super as Bella Swan."

"Oh, Alice," I said, smiling through my tears.

"You messed up your eye make-up," she said, smoothing it with her thumb. "Come on."

"I'm getting shocked that you and Jasper don't just give up and tell me to grow up and deal with it, sometimes," I said.

"Bella," Alice said, stroking my hair. "I love you like a sister. I'd never tell you that."

EPOV

The years of medical school were paying off, professionally. I had to give my two best friends here in Seattle an unofficial engagement party- Emmett McCarty and Rosalie Hale. I had the bar stocked and Rosalie had come by earlier with some food before going home to get ready. It was basically an open party- people could come by and leave whenever they felt like. We had no idea how many people were coming. It was already turning into a great party.

It while I was making drinks that I saw a girl who couldn't have been older than 17 wondering alone. She was painfully thin, her dark eyes seemed too large for her heart-shaped face, lashes that were so thick and long they had to be fake, but she had a pretty mouth. Her hair was long, though. It, too, was a pretty reddish brown color. I realized that her eyes were darting around and she was breathing quickly, heavily, and sweating. She grabbed a hold of a pretty pixie-like girl with a short bob who had been chatting with other people.

"Bella?" the pixie girl asked. "Bella?" The girl whispered something. "Let me get a drink for you," she said, taking her hand. There was something sisterly between them. "Hi," she said to me, jovially. "Can you make a cosmopolitan for my friend, here?"

"Of course," I said. She held onto the pixie's arm. "Is she alright?"

"She just needs some space," the pixie girl said. The thin girl didn't say word to me, just gazed up at me with large, doe-like dark eyes. She did have beautiful eyes, too, when they weren't bugged out. It was mostly the lashes, though. I figured, as long as she had some one like this looking out for her like this, it was OK to give her a drink. She was panicking over something.

"My bedroom's pretty cleared out," I said. The rain jackets and purses were in there. "The two of you can go in there for her to calm down."

"Thanks," the pixie answered. "So, you're Edward Masen?"

"Yes, just call me Edward," I said. I handed her the drink and escorted them to my bedroom. The thin girl sat on the bed, sipping her drink, carefully, quietly, watching me. Her breathing hadn't slowed down. It was possible she was having an anxiety attack of some sort. "Does she need a cold compress?" I asked.

"Yes," the pixie girl said.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she needs to be on Zoloft or something for anxiety," I said. "Alcohol isn't going to help."

"Well, your thoughts are nice," the pixie said, "but really, we don't need your armchair medical advice." The way she said it was sweet, but not rude at all. I didn't take office. I realized I was consulting without permission. I must have looked like an ass.

"I wouldn't say it's armchair medical advice," I said. I left the room to wet down a paper towel for her. I returned to find that she had drained half the drink.

"Thanks," the thin girl said, finally speaking to me. If she wasn't so thin, she could have been amazing looking. I had the feeling she was older than she looked.

There was a cheer from the main part of the apartment, and we knew that the guests of honor had entered. I had work as the best man.