Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer; I just borrow. :)
Sorry about the short chapters, but they're building up to something—I know, I keep saying that don't I? *bites nails* It's true, though. :)
If this gets reported 'cause of something I added in (I won't say 'what' that something is), I'm gonna be mad.
We landed at LAX five hours ago; we're currently in my room at the hotel. Angela has been briefing me on everything that's going to happen tomorrow. I'm too tired from the flight to really care, though.
"Why don't you get some rest," she says, clearing off the bed of her stuff.
I nod and when she leaves, I take out my notebook and write.
Your love is like a scented air; it blows past me, but it leaves its mark in its wake. It's beautiful and ripe, like the finest of fruits, but it is also forbidden. The forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest they say; but have they ever known a love that is poisonous, and can kill if you're not careful? Oh, but that is the love that holds on the strongest; it never perishes. The beautiful, poisonous, forbidden fruit is addictive – it leaves you wanting more after just one taste.
I type it out into a text and send it to Edward, and then shut off my phone to sleep for a while.
Monday – the first signing/meet and greet, Los Angeles, CA
"Hi," I say, smiling up at the teenage girl.
I'm almost an hour into the first signing, and believe it or not, I had actually forgotten how crazy L.A. can get at these things. I lost count of how many books I've signed already, but it's only the start. A blonde girl, a short little thing, steps up to the table.
"H-hi," she says hesitantly.
I smile up at her, trying to ease her; she's nervous, I can tell.
I sign her book and say bye as she leaves.
Another girl, probably in her early twenties, steps up. She has longish dark hair that's down and looks like it hasn't been brushed, and face clear of make-up. She has Ray-Bans on. She's wearing a black leather jacket that looks designer-expensive; when I glance over, I can see the tops of her shoes – black and white Converses.
"Cool shoes," I tell her, taking the book she just handed me.
She smirks and quietly thanks me.
Thanks for coming! Nice ring, btw. :) –Izzy Swan
When I hand the book back to her, I see said ring. It's plain gold, and it's on her index finger; I smirk and get ready for the next person in line.
I have interviews for the rest of the day, and when I finally set foot on the airplane for Arizona, I'm exhausted. I reach my pocket and pull out my phone; the plane won't be taking off for another fifteen minutes, and Angela is busy with something else—probably something to torture me further. I dial Edward's cell, just in case he's not at the house. He doesn't answer, so I try the landline; he answers.
"Hello," he says, sounding like I just woke him up.
"Fuck, did I wake you?" I ask, biting my lip.
He clears his throat, and I hear movement in the background.
"Nope, not really." He definitely sounds tired.
"Liar," I laugh.
He chuckles sleepily.
"Okay, yeah you did; I was tired after seeing Seth earlier."
"Oh, you saw Seth? What happened—sorry, it's probably not my business," I say.
"'Course it is, sweetheart; and I just wanted to talk, I felt the anxiety shit rising, so I called him—he helped calm me down."
I smile a little.
"Well, I'm happy—glad—you called him, Edward. What brought on the attack, though?"
He sighs.
"Worrying about you, actually; I haven't been away from you in awhile, and to have you suddenly flying allover the States is a little . . . overwhelming," he says.
I sigh.
"I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this—" I start.
He cuts me off.
"No way, baby girl; you're finally doing what you love—this is just part of it." He sighs, sounding tired.
"Listen, I can let you get back to sleep if you want; you sound tired still," I tell him, frowning.
He snorts.
"Yeah, I don't think so. I've hardly talked to ya since earlier when you sent me that text message—which, by the way, I loved. You should try writing that into something of yours."
I bite on my top lip.
"Really, you think so? I don't know, I thought it was too . . . corny, I guess, after I reread it when I'd woken up." I chuckle.
"Don't you ever put yourself down, baby girl; I, for one, really fucking enjoy your writing, and I don't think it's corny—but so what if it was? I've read a lot worse, believe me!"
We both laugh, and then I notice Angela coming towards me.
"Hey," I say to Edward. "I should go. This thing is gonna be taking off in a few minutes."
"Okay, baby girl; gimme a shout when you can, alright?"
I nod at nothing.
"Sure, absolutely," I say. "I love you," I add quickly.
"I love you, too."
We hang up and Angela sits down next to me; I stole the window seat from her.
"All right," she says, buckling herself in.
I do the same.
"You ready?" she asks.
I nod just as the plane starts its way down the runway.