Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters or the rights to "Run Run Run" as performed by Phoenix, and I will not be earning income from using these materials. I do, however, own the storyline and any original characters. Thank you.

A/N: Thank you, always and forever, to my friend clarabella75 for her awesome beta work. Seriously? This work wouldn't be what it is without her. And a huge thank you to all of my friends, the best guys and gals in the world, over at the FanFicAholics Page on Facebook. My life wouldn't be what it is without them. You're not there? You're not cool. :D

If you'd like to see the banner for this story, any of the clothes, a link to the FanFicAholics page, or some other fun visuals (like Treward's fun ride :D), hop on over to my profile for the links.

Okay, enough from me, thank you to everyone, and hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eight:
Run

Contradictions
Get me everything I want
I'll let you know
But I think it's gonna take a while
It's a clear view
No one's waiting at the door
A million letters
They couldn't make me change my mind
I think I'd better run, run, run, run …
You didn't catch me fallin',
Fallin', fallin', fallin'

"Run Run Run" - Phoenix

The tension thickened around us into a veritable soup of silence and bad feelings. I wanted to move, but I was trapped, and truly in fear for my life.

I couldn't even feel Trevor next to me. All I could see were the icy blue eyes of the seething blonde who looked as though she would rip my throat out before allowing any kind of explanation.

God bless the maître'd, whose voice drifted over the elongated ballroom to announce dinner. Immediately, Rosalie's face shifted at the sound, every muscle visibly loosening as she moved her gaze to Trevor, closed her eyes, and swallowed. When she opened her lids, her eyes held the fire of warning. A smile, beautiful in its fierceness, stretched across her lips.

"Shall we?" Turning, she walked away quickly.

Trevor was on her heels, but I grabbed his wrist before he was completely out of my vicinity, sliding his jacket over my shoulders and shoving it back into his hand. His eyes softened slightly as he mouthed his thanks. And then he was gone, chasing after his scorned snowflake.

My eyes found their way back to the carpet. The adrenaline was steadily draining from my body, leaving my muscles weak and a faint nausea brewing in my abdomen.

Alice's cold hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me along behind her towards our table. Jasper came to stand on my other side as we walked.

"Bella, are you okay?"

Her concern surprised me, and I nodded. Of course, the instant I nodded, the concern dropped from her eyes.

"Isabella Marie Swan, what the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed, the words almost as venomous as the look on Rosalie's face. "I thought you were coming here tonight to make this situation better, not worse."

"Allie," Jasper warned, touching her shoulder from behind me. She huffed out a sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry, I know he's the one that asked to be alone with you, but still," the side of her mouth quirked up. "You told me you could handle it!"

"Well, I didn't exactly say I could handle –"

"Oh come on, Bells, I know you better than you think I do, and you wanted to be alone as much as he did. What is up between you two? First, you practically digest him with your eyes at the club, and now you're sneaking off to hidden places on a verandah where no one can find you?" By now we had almost reached the table and her voice had turned into a shrill whisper – not a good combination. "This is not how my Bella would have acted in San Francisco. Has the southern heat gone to your head?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but the breath was sucked right out of me. Alice was right. None of this was like me. Instead, I simply took a seat in the chair Jasper pulled out for me and stared down at my plate. Alice sat next to me and took my hand.

"I'm sorry if I've been too harsh, but this isn't you Bella. Just … be yourself."

I looked at my closest friend and tried to press as much conviction into my face as I could.

"I'll try, Alice, I swear."

I really did want to do better, so I moved my gaze to the rest of the table as they began to seat themselves. Bile rose in my throat.

I was surrounded not only by the Hales and the Cullens, but Rosalie, Trevor, and a few of their closest friends. Alice and I had been seated at the main table, a gigantic round monstrosity that seated twelve.

Really? Could this night have gotten any worse?

Rosalie never looked at me, although she looked straight through me multiple times over the course of the meal, always as she spoke to Alice. I remained mute and ate my supper in absolute solitude.

Both Esme and Marilyn seemed intent on ignoring me as well, and no one took any notice of my actions. I was glad to simply be seated behind the metaphoric glass wall, with no input and no bother from anyone else at the table.

Even Trevor paid me almost no attention, although I caught myself glancing at him from the corner of my eye more than once. He didn't speak over the course of the meal either; instead, I watched as he tried at least three times to claim his fiancée's hand, only to be out rightly snubbed at each attempt. He began to look ill, shuffling the food around on his plate. I unintentionally mimicked his motions, also unable to eat.

As soon as dessert had been served, Mr. Hale slipped from his seat, made his way to the stage where the string quartet played, and proceeded to toast the engagement by glossing over his daughter's lovely, well-bred life, her short engagement to Trevor Cullen, and the social aspirations which their union would most certainly seal in stone.

Sweeping rounds of thunderous applause followed him back to our table, and he sat, smugly glancing at his daughter whose cheeks were tinged in pink. Trevor was looking rather oddly at his soon-to-be father-in-law, and a small nudge at the back of my mind wanted me to turn and ask Alice what the toast had meant.

I simply figured his polite coolness and lack of reference to the lifetime joy for happy couple was a Southern tradition I didn't understand. However, one look at Alice's guarded eyes and Jasper's barely concealed fury as he clutched at her hand were enough to convince me I should maintain my mute state.

The applause continued to surround us, regardless of the musicians who attempted to begin where they had left off, and I watched from my resigned corner as Trevor leaned over to whisper once in Rosalie's ear. Immediately, her head shot around, and I could see the fury in her eyes from where I sat. Without another word, she slowly stood from the table and walked from the room.

Trevor's eyes sank back to his plate for less than five seconds before he, too, stood up and followed his fiancée from the room. I could tell the rest of the adults at our table were slightly flustered, but each seemed more than willing to chalk it up to pre-wedding jitters and leave the couple to work out their own problems.

Okay, so I probably should have taken the hint, and I probably shouldn't have convinced myself I needed to use the restroom. Instinct told me that something was rotten in Denmark.

I intended to find out what.

Excusing myself, I walked in the direction of the ladies room, glancing furtively behind me to make sure Alice wasn't following me with her eyes. As soon as I had escaped view, I slipped the heels off of my feet and padded down the hallway.

No, I really didn't have any idea where I was going, but the faint sound of a female voice tipped me off. The words became louder as I approached a doorway.

" – don't understand why you always have to blame this on me –"

"Rose, I'm not blaming you, but I am beginning to wonder if –"

"Don't give me your 'ifs,' you lying piece of shit! I don't know what's gotten into you over the past few months, Trevor, but if you think I'm going to put up with it once you're joined to me for good, you can forget about ever touching me –"

The voices grew in intensity, always overlapping each other, as I drew closer to the door. It was cracked open on its hinges; just enough so I could see when a body paced past the gap. I stood with my back pressed against the wall and eavesdropped – yeah, I could call it for it what it was.

"I haven't lied to you, Rose, you never asked me –"

"So now I have to ask about everything you do?"

"I didn't say that –"

"Then what are you saying?"

"Will you let me finish a fucking sentence?"

Silence followed, with the distinct tapping of a heel on wood. He sighed.

"Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, I'm just …" he trailed off. "I'm just worried you're not doing this for the right reasons."

"You think I don't want to marry you?" she demanded. I flinched. I hoped no one in the dining room could hear this; I was almost positive the 'happy' couple had forgotten where they were.

"Rose, I didn't say –"

"You don't have to say anything to insinuate, you jackass!"

Five distinct stomps rang out through the air.

"I am not a pawn of anyone else, and I will not be treated like I don't have a mind of my own," she hissed, the tenor of her voice dropping low with warning. "Don't think I haven't been watching you. I don't know what's going on with you and that little slut, but I swear to God, if I find one piece of evidence after we're married that you have been fooling around on me, with anyone, I will take you for every fucking piece of shit you're worth."

The word slut burned at me, filling me with equal parts anger and shame.

"Don't you threaten me, Rosalie Lillian Hale," he growled.

My breath stopped in my chest.

"That wasn't a threat, Trevor. I can promise every word."

I knew I should have left long ago, but I was bolted to the spot.

"Then do me another favor, and don't ever bring Bella into this. She has nothing to do with your insecurities."

My heart dropped into my stomach. Oh holy fucking Mary, mother of God. He didn't.

"Insecure? You're calling me insecure?" she laughed. The sound was cold and mocking. "I'm not the one who flinches every time her name is mentioned. Oh yes, don't look so shocked and think I haven't noticed. I've been watching you for months."

"Are you just waiting for me to cheat, Rose? Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? No wonder you've been so distant for months. I can't even remember the last you returned my kiss –"

"Me, distant? I don't know what the hell you're talking about." She paused. "I wouldn't have to be distant if it hadn't been for you fooling around on me."

"Rose –"

"No!" her screech was indignant. I pressed against the balls of my feet when I heard her heels click closer to the door. This fight was almost over, and Rosalie would have the last word.

"Don't you dare 'Rose' me! I don't care how much of a conspiracy theorist you've become, my family is not plotting against you, and I will not be used. And after tonight, you can tell your little whore that she can get out of my face forever."

A few more indelicate stomps carried her away from the doorway again. "I'll even break it off with Alice, I don't care. Honestly, anyone who is willing to be friends with or defend some kind of lying, cheating skank deserves nothing but the title of madam and her own brothel. I guess that's what she's running out of our apartment now, and you're her best customer."

Tears began to burn in my throat. That bitch! There weren't enough words in the English language to describe the anger filtering up my esophagus like bile.

Call me all the names in the world, but Alice? What right did she have to turn on Alice because of me? She might have been allowed anger at me, the supposed mistress, but the extent of her ferocity against someone she had once claimed as her best friend was nauseating.

"Rosalie –" Trevor's voice was louder this time, but it was strangled out by Rosalie's words. At the sound of his voice I found I could feel my feet again, and I darted ten paces off and slipped behind the wall of an indented doorway. I pressed my back against the hardwood panels, praying for invisibility. Rosalie's words rang clear to my ears.

"Fuck you, Trevor Cullen. Fuck you and Alice Brandon. You get that brunette bitch out of my sight tonight, and if I ever see her again, I swear to God, I will have her crying, running back to whatever crap hole she crawled out of."

Trevor never said a word. Moments later, I watched as a whirl of blonde hair, white fabric, and scented flowers flew past me and back towards the party.

I couldn't hear Trevor, but I wasn't waiting for him. My heart was beating into my ears; vomiting was an imminent possibility.

I knew she had every right to accuse me as she had, and her words opened up deep wounds, rubbing salt and vinegar into the surface.

I was done. I wouldn't have anything more to do with their world. I would leave tonight, as soon as I could move from my place against the wall, and I would leave this all behind.

Hot tears slipped from my eyes and buried themselves into the folds of my dress. I would never give Rosalie Hale any reason to call me a slut again. I slid my lids shut and tucked my head into my chest when I heard it.

"Oh my God, Bella."

My head snapped up, my vision blurred from the tears not falling. His eyes were wide, his hand reached halfway out to me.

This time I was the one to flinch away.

"No more," I sobbed, the words spilling from my lips. "Stay away."

Before I knew what was going on, I was propelling myself down the hallway, hurriedly wiping my tears and pressing myself to run as far away from Trevor as I could.

I hesitated only a moment at the entrance to the main room, but as soon as I spotted Alice, almost in tears and pressed into Jasper's side, I sauntered to her seat. Her eyes met mine, full of questions. I knew she could see the lines of my own tears.

I spoke only once, and surprisingly, my voice didn't crack.

"Artichoke."

XoXoX

I didn't remember the rest of the evening.

When I think back, all that comes to mind is the intense need to squeeze the life out of Jasper for being so awesome and thanking Alice for setting my alarm as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Everything else consisted of fuzzy bits and pieces which didn't belong anywhere.

Monday morning, as I made my way into work and attempted to be the employee I knew I could, I found my mind drifting to the lost moments and searching for their missing pieces.

By Wednesday, I realized the search had become fruitless and was only helping me lose what merit I had gained with my boss.

Fortunately, Hugo was pretty much the most incredibly casual supervisor I could've had. So long as I was in the office, alert, and on my game, he was more than willing to forgive and forget the last few painful weeks.

It was like my "Days of our Lives" drama had never occurred.

I realized this Friday afternoon, around five o'clock, as Hugo was slipping out of his office and into the weekend. I was busy patching up a few images for an article in next month's issue.

"Looks grand, love," Hugo drawled from behind my shoulder.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

He loved sneaking up on me. He also seemed to believe his deep southern accent sounded British. I said he was incredibly casual. I never mentioned 'non-maddening.'

"Thanks, Hugo," I grinned, finishing up the distort on the layer and swiveling around in my desk chair. "Did you need something before the weekend was up, or were you just coming in here to ogle my work?" I smirked.

"While your work is quite lovely to ogle, my dear," his eyes flickered to my minuscule breasts and back up, "I can't say it's the sole reason I'm here."

I didn't mention 'non-pervy' either.

Hugo didn't continue, so I raised an eyebrow. He grinned wickedly.

"Things have been improving so rapidly here, Isabella, that I think you're ready for your own photo shoot."

I nearly slid from my chair. "Are you serious?"

"I couldn't be more," Hugo laughed, leaning against my desk. "You've shown vast improvements over the past few days, and we did hire your ass to be a photographer, not do some manips and image glossing any intern can finish up."

I sat back, stunned. "Oh my god … you're serious." The pressure built up in my chest, excitement mingled with fear. Hugo rolled his eyes.

"Of course, it helps that the shoot is tomorrow afternoon and Julie backed out at the last minute, so you'll have to be ready to work. Does a Saturday afternoon shoot fit into your schedule, love?"

I could barely breathe in. "Don't worry, boss man, I'll make it fit." The inner bits of girl in me squealed. Hugo's grin grew.

"I knew I hired your ass for a reason. Downtown, 10:00 am, the Rigby Theatre. You should have outdoor and indoor shots, since there is a lake right near there and plenty of props to work with. Band is a small up and coming called the Whiskey Chasers. Joelle will meet up as your assistant." He rapped his knuckles on the metal door frame before exiting. "Have a good weekend, love. Make me proud."

I couldn't believe how my week had turned around.

Sunday, I had been ready to quit, move back to Forks, and beg whatever family now lived in my old house to let me live there out of pity.

Now, I was back on my game, already assigned to my own photo shoot, which I would be in charge of by myself, and I hadn't seen or thought of Trevor Cullen all week.

Well, besides just then, and the few times my mind had drifted, I had focused more intently on my work to banish them.

As I mentally played with the different backdrops I could set up around the Rigby, a small nagging protestation had worked its way into the back of my mind. Somewhere I had heard the name of the band before, but I did work at a magazine which interviewed and photographed hundreds of bands every month. It shouldn't have surprised me if the name seemed familiar.

Before long, though, the nagging had become an honest question. I saved the photograph I was finishing and clicked on the internet browser icon.

As soon as the search engine home page loaded, however, I heard the high pitched wails of "Sweet Home Alabama" blaring from my phone and rolled my eyes.

"Hey, Emmie bear," I drawled. It was Emmett who had begged for the stereotypical Southern anthem as his personal ringtone before he left Atlanta.

"Oh, so what, now you decide to start in with the cutesy nicknames, huh Bells? What happened to hitting me up every once in a while to, you know, let me know you're still eating or alive."

At this, Emmett moved into his 'Bella' voice, a high pitched nasal tone I prayed daily didn't sound like me. "Oh, of course I'll call you every day, Emmett. I would never leave you hanging, Emmett –"

I snorted in the middle of his rant. "Oh, for God's sake, Em, stop your whining. Although, I'm really beginning to think you do me better than I do. Have you been practicing in your spare time again?"

"Only because I miss you so much," he replied, and the smacking of his giant lips pierced my ear through the receiver.

"Ew," I giggled, pulling the phone from my ear. "You should really watch how much you drool on that fancy iPhone of yours. You know they won't take them back for water damage."

"Yeah, but what about lube damage? That's not water."

I gagged a bit. "Ugh, but it's still liquid, and furthermore, it's gross. And I really don't want to think about what other kind of liquid might be on there if lube damage were to occur."

"Hey, now, you know I keep my shit clean."

"It's not your shit I'm worried about, Em." Truly smiling for the first time in weeks, I wondered why I hadn't called Emmett sooner. "So, just to get off the topic of you and your narcissistic self-love, if you miss me so much, when are you coming to visit?"

"Me? Why do I have to come there? Your ass can't afford a plane ticket yet?"

"Come on, Emmett, I just started work less than two months ago. I know Ellen's not going to be happy I can't come home for Christmas, but it's just not possible till my vacation starts in January."

"Hell, Bella, I'm sure you've got every redneck in that department wrapped around your little finger, running on their hands and knees just to have a chance to hit that."

"Ew, again, Emmett, all the guys that work here are either married or over sixty," I frowned. "Besides, what makes you think I'd dip into the office pool anyhow?"

"Cause I thought I'd trained you better than that."

"Emmett, have you even had sex in the last six months?" Just before I'd applied for the job at Spin, Emmett had broken up with his long-time girlfriend, Katherine. The short, fat, red-headed bitch had cheated on him after two years spent making his life a living hell.

At one point, my incarceration in return for her death had been a serious consideration.

"Bella, have you even had sex?"

I flinched. "Point, set, match."

"Honestly, Bells, your spontaneous combustion from lack of man-lovin' has become a serious concern of mine."

Mine too.

"Anyhow," he continued, "I called because I had some good news for you."

I moved back to my computer. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Get your ass ready, cause Papa Em is comin' home to roost," he bellowed into the phone. I could almost see him puffing out his chest.

"Uh huh," I was focused on typing the name of the stars of my upcoming photo shoot into Google when Emmett's words hit me. "Wait, what? What do you mean you're 'comin' home to roost'?"

"Well, Bells, to be honest, I've been laid up in a hospital bed for the past two weeks. Managed to get myself a hip pointer, a few fractured ribs, and a cracked femur during practice at the beginning of the month."

My mouth fell open. "What the hell? You're the assistant defensive coordinator, Emmett McCarty! How in the hell did you manage that? You're not even supposed to be on the field during practice!"

"Look, I was taking the assistant coach's place for a few days, and some of the guys and I might have gotten a little over enthusiastic –"

"Uh huh, meaning they didn't appreciate your 'coaching' techniques?"

"Something like that – anyway, the technicalities don't matter. What does matter is I'm out for the season. They've promised me a job next year if I don't sue, but I have to rest till February, doc's orders. So, I figured, since I'm being forced to sit on my ass for the next five months, I might as well come and sit on it some with you. Huh? What do ya think?"

I could hear the need for approval in his voice, like some overgrown, five-year-old who only wanted a lollipop from the store. "I don't know, Em. I kinda have other people in my life now. Have you talked to Alice yet?"

"Of course, babe, you didn't think I'd leave you to communicate with the she-witch, did you?" There was something in his voice I wasn't sure I trusted, but I was about to agree when Emmett opened his big fat mouth again. "Besides, we both agreed having somebody else there would be good for you."

I felt the heat crawl up my face. I scowled. "Well, if the only reason you're coming is to babysit me, you can save the airline points and find some ass in the Bahamas." Disenchanted, I moved back to my computer and pressed the 'enter' button on my keyboard.

"Bells," Emmett whined into the phone, "it's not like that, I swear! Come on, you and I both know you have trouble living without me –"

"Emmett," I ground out. I was frozen, and his name was the only word I could push through my lips. Mentally, I was pleading with whomever thought this was fucking funny. I knew it all was too good to be true.

Murphy's Law was like the byline for my life.

"Bella?" I knew he could probably hear me hyperventilating through the phone. I couldn't speak. "Bella, what's up? What's wrong? Isabella – Izzy, answer me, don't just pant into the phone like some panther in heat –"

"Emmett. Shut. Up."

"Shutting, shutting," he mumbled.

After a few more moments, I managed to force myself to move the mouse over a few inches and click on the fated word – 'images.' The colors popped up all over my screen, mottled images that cleared as the page loaded.

I nearly dropped the phone. Emmett stopped shutting.

"So, Bells, are you really against me staying for a while? I mean, I figured I could just sleep on elf girl's massive couch, or if you're really pissed off, I can get a hotel room –"

"Emmett," I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "Please shut up."

I moved the mouse over the third picture on the first line and clicked. The image filtered in before my face.

On a concert stage, foggy orange, black, and grey layers danced among the three figures standing in between the filtering lights, zoned on nothing but the music. And center stage stood my reason for flight, my ultimate checkmate. His copper tones were highlighted by amber streaks. He was absolutely fucking gorgeous.

I swallowed thickly.

"Emmett?"

"Bella?" He sounded annoyed. I didn't care. I could feel hot tears forming.

"How soon can you be here?"

Yes, ladies and gentleman, Emmett has entered the building. :D Okay, remember, click that little button and receive a special treat from me! Not sure yet whether this chapter will be another mini-moment, or a teaser, but if there is something in particular you'd like to see, let me know and I'll do my best to work it in!

Much love!
~Sky