DESIDERATA
A/N: Bella's apron brought to courtesy of heelstominivan, which she poached from Queer as Folk. The description of Edward Cullen's hands is extra good and long for my bb NaughtySparkle. Enjoy, Trin!!
Things I own: A personally autographed Playbill by Alan Rickman. It's Snape, dudes! SNAPE!!
Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to Ms. Meyer.
CHAPTER TWELVE: IT'S RAINING MEN
"The experience of making a movie is better and more important than the film itself."
– John Huston
BPOV
It has been exactly three weeks since I promised Edward Cullen that I would poison his coffee if he wasn't civil to me the next time I saw him. In the meantime, I've been baking my ass off trying to get ready for Masen Masterworks' arrival. I've been making extra batches of everything, and then freezing half of what I make. Once it thaws, it is still just as good as the fresh stuff. We even rented a couple of extra freezers to store the surplus.
The logistical game plan during the shoot is that I will do my regular baking at my regular time. Once I'm done, Alice will have the coffee cart ready to go and I'll run to wherever it is Masen is shooting for the day. Emmett is going to play courier, so he will be bringing fresh goodies and coffee to the set, and bringing equipment and leftovers back to the café. Alice will actually be in charge of the cart in the evenings, so I can go home and get enough sleep to get back to work by three AM. It is going to be about three months of hell, but it means so much to the café's future success that there is no question of whether or not to do this. It is a good thing we are purveyors of all things caffeinated, because the three of us will really need access to no less than an IV drip of caffeine during the shooting schedule.
Tonight is Sunday night, which means that the café is closed for the next 36 hours. Sunday nights are movie or book night chez moi. At the moment, I'm too tired to read, so I rifle through my DVD collection. As I peruse what's available, my eyes happen to linger on my Masen Masterworks movies. This, of course, makes me think about Edward Cullen. Thinking of Edward Cullen reminds me of our last meeting and his so-called apology. I chuckle humorlessly to myself as I recall his word choice that day.
When I pulled Eleanor's quote on him at the end of our spat, I really feel like I got the best of that argument, and felt pretty smug with myself for thinking of it off the cuff. I have to admit, though, that it now feels like a very hollow victory. While there is no doubt in my mind that Edward Cullen is the world's biggest ass—a fucktard of the highest magnitude—there is something about him that leaves me unsettled. I can't put my finger on it, but it's definitely there. Even going back to the Desiderata has been of no help whatsoever in this matter. I just can't make sense of it all.
I pull out the DVD for Jane Eyre. Masen has done a lot of amazing period pieces, but I think this one is my favorite. It's such a good story, and their adaptation is a classic. I pop it in my DVD player, pull out my bag of strawberry Twizzlers, and settle into my comforter. I have no interruptions to worry about, just peace and quiet and Jane Eyre. Charlie knows that this is my time, and he religiously leaves me alone to veg. I'm suddenly aware that I've never once viewed any of the special features on this DVD; I'm always way too impatient to get to the movie, and when the movie is over, I'm usually way too tired to do anything except sleep.
For shits and giggles, I decide to start with the special features this time. There are the usual trailers, bloopers, and director's running commentary that you can select to play over the movie in real time. There are also interviews with the cast and director. My curiosity is piqued—I have to admit I'm really interested to see what the hell Edward Cullen would have to say about one of his movies. I click on Edward's interview and watch.
When his image first appears, I feel like scoffing. He looks so serious and pretentious, which is exactly like the Edward Cullen I know. As I watch, however, there are other nuances I pick up that I've never noticed before. His voice is so smooth and deep, I almost feel like he could lull me into doing his evil bidding by simply whispering into my ear like the sweetest, most innocent melody. His hair is in complete disarray, like it always is, and I watch as he nervously runs his fingers through it every thirty seconds. Oh my god, it's almost like a nervous tic! This realization adds some depth to Edward Cullen's character that I never knew was there. You can completely sense his discomfort in talking in front of the camera. If I didn't know him to be such an asshole, I would almost feel a little sorry for him, he looks so uncomfortable. A quote from Mark Twain pops into my head: "The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself." Wow, that's actually something we both have in common, and that insight surprises me.
The next time he runs his fingers through his hair, I put the DVD on pause, so I can look at his hands. Edward Cullen has the longest, most elegant fingers in the history of man! I've never seen anything like them in my life. I press the slow-mo button, and he drags his hand down to the corners of his mouth, rubs it, and then rests his chin on his palm, with his fingers curled under his chin. I have no idea what has come over me, but I am having a complete tizzy attack over his fucking hands. Seriously, it has made me question being an atheist, because hands that beautiful had to be sculpted by god. It's just a hand, but my mind is imagining all kinds of wicked things he could do with that hand. I've never been so wound up about digits, but these make me want to get on my knees and pray.
When I restart the film at normal speed, I see that his face is completely animated, and full of passion for his craft. He very nearly has me allured. If I'm completely honest with myself, I would have to say that Edward Cullen is a very beautiful man. There is nothing in his features to dislike. Those brilliant green eyes that trapped me the very first time I saw them, his angular jaw, his perennial stubble, his gorgeously messy hair, his strong eyebrows—they are all appealing. If only he wasn't such a dork, and if only I was Hollywood royalty. Then maybe, just maybe, we could use one another for sex. If he never opened his mouth again, I would totally hit that. Next stop on the Monorail? Fantasyland. Quit while you're still ahead, Bella...
As I was drooling over Asshat Cullen, I didn't listen to a word he said, so I have to go back and start the interview all over again. This time, instead of focusing on what he looks like, I focus on what he is saying. And damn it all, he is really brilliant. His research on the era is impeccable. His attention to detail borders on Obsessive-Compulsive, not that there's anything wrong with that. If I never met him before, we could almost have a serious, intelligent, interesting conversation about film. The only problem is that I have met him before, and I want to do nothing more than to never speak to him again.
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It's D-Day, the day the Masen Masterworks people arrive in Forks. Trucks have been arriving almost nonstop over the past week to deliver goods and equipment, and people are talking about the amount of air traffic in and out of the Forks Municipal Airport. To say the town is all aflutter would be putting it mildly. Of course, I don't know if either Jessica or Lauren has stopped their hyperventilating once in the past four weeks. I think the beautiful black roots in their washed-out blonde hair are standing on end at the prospect of so many single males arriving in Forks within one square mile of them. For three months. I shudder at how whorendous that whole scene is going to be.
Emmett calls Alice and me to the front of the café to let us know that Rosalie will be stopping by shortly to review our final plans for the catering. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I don't need to worry about the Asshat for at least another day. The look of disappointment on Alice's face makes me sad; I know she was hoping to see Jasper. There will be plenty of time for that, little one, I think as I smile to myself.
"Emmett, if Rosalie is genuinely coming here to review our final plans, it's probably best if you avoid meeting in your office. Unless, of course, there are some really important, private details that only you two are privy to that need to be, um, worked over." I start to giggle at my own hilarity. I get a smile out of Alice, too.
Emmett just rolls his eyes at me. "Very funny, Bella. But I can kiss Rose anywhere I want to; I don't need my office for that."
"Um, please tell me in saying 'anywhere I want to,' you were talking about locations in the café, not locations on her body."
"The double entendre was completely intentional." I make a puking sound, but Emmett just laughs me off.
"So, before Rosalie gets here, Em, I'm thinking that we should review all our plans first, right?" I ask.
""I think we have it all squared away, Bells. You take care of thawing the day's goodies out when you get here, Alice comes in early to start brewing coffee, and you get all the stuff to the right location. It should fit just fine into the bed of your truck, and it isn't like we need to worry about damaging that old wreck. We work via text to coordinate getting the right stuff couriered back and forth, which I will handle. And Alice will come over with fresh coffee and goodies around 6:30. That pretty much covers it, right?"
"Sure, sounds good to me. We have all the extra cups and stuff ordered, right?"
"Yeah, Bella, I got the coffee cart all stocked up and ready to go for you."
"Then you're right, Em, I guess we are all set."
"No, wait…I have something I need to say, and please don't take it wrong, Bella."
"What has you looking so sad, mini-me? Just say it."
"Bella, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to seriously edit your t-shirt collection while Masen is in town. I just don't want to offend anyone."
"What? I can't do that! I mean, look at my shirt today, for example—it isn't that bad!" I say, when I know for a fact that it is, indeed, very bad.
"Somehow, I think normal people might be offended if they saw you with a shirt that says 'How did you get past my spam filter?'"
"To be honest, I don't think I have anything normal to wear at all. I'm so used to being thrown in the back of the café, away from the finer folk, that I don't have anything else that's decent to wear in public."
"Well, then at least wear your least offensive things. I don't care if you have to wear the same shirt for a month straight, Bella. Okay, yes I do care; hygiene takes precedence over sensible clothing. But only just barely."
"I give you my solemn promise to try to be as appropriate as I am able, Princess Peach."
"Thank you, Bella, it means so much to me. I know it is asking a lot of you."
"You know that all you have to do is give me the face, and I'm making promises to sell my first born to the devil. Which, of course, is no risk at all, since we all know I'm going to end up an unmarried virgin who cares for your brood of twelve."
The front door bell chimes and Rosalie Hale walks through, impeccably dressed. Emmett's face beams when he sees her. Walking directly behind her are Jasper and Edward Cullen. I'm thinking of nicknaming him Edward Sullen while he is here; that can be my code name for him, and he will never even know. I grin to myself as my evil little plot unfolds. But why are they here, too? Certainly Rosalie is the only one who needs to negotiate anything with us. I'm beginning to get the feeling that Mr. Sullen is a micro-manager. That's probably not the only thing about him that is micro…he is totally compensating for a small peen with his anally retentive, controlling behavior. You just know it…Once again, I'm smiling to myself. God, I'm fricking hilarious. I need to start doing stand up comedy or something. Really.
Fortunately for me, Jasper and SullenBoy head straight for a table and sit down. SullenBoy takes out his laptop out of an overstuffed backpack and boots it up. Jasper gets up to order coffee, or perhaps it was just to go find Alice. With my friends paired up with their Masen Masterworks counterparts, I'm suddenly a passive observer of the action, which happens to be my preferred vantage point. So that I don't look completely obvious, I pretend to be reorganizing the pastry case, when, in actuality, it is just fine as is. How the fuck do you rearrange something that is already arranged? I'm not sure, but I intend to find out.
I'm so hyper-focused on my fake task that I don't notice someone standing in front of the pastry case at first. It isn't until my gaze shifts from the pastries to the crotch standing behind the pastries that I realize I'm staring at Edward Cullen's junk. I've been staring at his junk for probably at least one entire minute. And I realize that my previous assessment of him having a small peen is totally and completely untrue. His package is perfectly situated in his jeans, as if they were custom designed to showcase his stuff. If his bulge is that prominent, I can only imagine what it looks like uncovered. I catch myself wondering exactly that, and start to blush. I slowly stand up, to see Edward Cullen smirking at me; he saw exactly what just went down. Fuck, I'm sooo busted!
"Umm, can I help you?"
"Yes, it appears that everyone else in this café is otherwise occupied. I do believe I really need one of those 'Eat Me' things," Edward says with that smirk still plastered on his face.
Oh god, still blushing. Say something, Bella…
"That is what they're called, isn't it?" Mr. Smirky asks.
"Umm, yes, that is what they're called. It's, uh, from Alice in Wonderland, obviously, you know where Alice has the 'Eat Me' cookie and 'Drink Me' vial…" I'm babbling as I get a plate out and place the cookie on it.
"I am aware of the story's plot line, thank you."
Edward Asshat Cullen-Sullen is looking right at me with such intensity I have to catch my breath. Those are some seriously green eyes. His eyelashes are incredibly long—I never noticed that before. His eyebrows are so thick, it almost looks like they are furrowed, even though they aren't. I'm just like a deer caught in the headlights. Here I am, about to be run over by the Asshat, and all I can do is stare into his eyes. Fortunately, Alice notices this out of the corner of her eyes and comes over to save me. She clears her throat to break the stare down Edward and I are having.
"Can I ring that up for you, Mr. Cullen?" She says in the sweetest little voice. She almost sounds like a 6th grader. She sure as hell doesn't look much older than that, either.
"Yes, of course. Thank you." Edward glances over at me while Alice rings him up and catches me staring back at him. I quickly escape to the back, my hiding spot, to avoid any further embarrassment.
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I make sure my truck is loaded up with everything I will need for the shoot and make my way over to LaPush. The first part of the shooting is going to take place near the Quileute Reservation. Since it is April, the weather is still on the cool side, so I make sure to have my gloves and coat handy, along with my rain gear. I refuse to be more miserable than I have to be; being on the set will be bad enough. Actually, I need to call myself out on my bullshit—it's going to be really interesting to see the process of filming a movie unfold in front of my eyes. I'm amazed at how organized the chaos of the setting is. The Oceanside has literally been taken over by the Masen people; the conference rooms look more like situation rooms in wartime. There are trailers on site for makeup, costuming, and the actors. Honestly, being in the middle of all this excitement is thrilling. I may actually end up enjoying all this, if Mr. Sullen keeps his distance and makes nice with me.
I slip my apron on over my coat, covering up today's t-shirt, which says "Everything I say is fully substantiated by my own opinion." While that isn't too offensive, in my own opinion, I think Alice might get a little nervous about the apron. It says "I keep the best snacks under my apron." I'm pretty sue that most everyone will think my subversive statement is funny, even if it embarrasses Alice. I have to have some sort of balance in this, after all.
I made small signs ahead of time to describe the various goodies in our pastry selections. I read somewhere that Hollywood types are kind of hyper about ingredients and shit like that, so I include an ingredients list, too. You know, what has nuts, what uses butter, which are organic, etc. I refuse to include wording like no animals were harmed in the making of this tart or vegan-only option. That's just pushing things a bit too far.
A silky smooth voice interrupts my train of thought. "So, that's where you've been hiding your buns."
"Excuse me?" I say, as I turn around to find the owner of that silky voice, even though I already know damn well who it belongs to. My face must be beet red at the moment, because I can feel the heat flushing on my cheeks.
"Well, it says all your best snacks are under your apron, so I presume that means it's where your buns are."
Oh, so that's how it's going to be. "Why no, Mr. Cullen, my buns are on display, right out here in the open. It would be a shame to hide them from everyone, don't you think?"
That gets him temporarily. It makes me grin. I notice that Edward carries a tattered Moleskine; it's as bruised and bloodied as mine is. Well fuck me, I'm not the only Moleskine collector in town! I grab mine up to show it to him. He breaks out in a wide grin.
"They are the best notebooks in the world, aren't they?"
"You have no idea how many of them I have at home. I've used them for years!"
"I keep a set on every project, where I keep all my thoughts and notes. I have a closet full of these things."
"I can't even tell you what I like the most about them—I wouldn't know where to start. They're just so perfect! I love that the paper is lined with the square boxes instead of lines. They just seem easier to use. I love having the ribbon which holds my place."
"Personally, my favorite feature is the elastic binder that keeps the notebook securely shut. I tend to fill mine with bits of paper and other miscellaneous stuff, and I never have to worry about them falling out.
"It's what I use to collect quotes."
"You collect quotes?"
"Yeah, anything I read or hear that is really interesting. I can't help myself. I've been doing it since I was a little girl. I guess that's why I've always been more interested in observing than in participating."
Suddenly, I can't believe that I've given out so much information to Edward Cullen; I don't really want him to know anything about me. Strangely, though, I find myself pleasantly surprised that I could actually talk to him without the extreme level of frustration I usually feel. The moment of silence between us begins to get awkward, so I grab my Moleskine and set it with my other things behind the coffee cart.
"By the way, your buns really are delicious. I'd like to get my hands on them every day, if I could."
His words cause me to blush every shade gradient within the red spectrum.
"Wait, that didn't come out the way I meant it to. I really was talking about your baked buns, not your real buns. Not that there's anything wrong with your real buns, I just don't want you to think I'm after them."
His face looks horrified, and he simply grabs his Moleskine and leaves. I can't decide if that was a compliment or a slam. Does he like my real buns, or not? Why do I even care? I just shake my head at myself and go back about my business.
I hear a huge screaming squeal, and I'd recognize that noise anywhere. It's the Bobbsey Twins, AKA Lauren and Jessica. Despite the weather, they are scantily clad in mini skirts, fuck-me pumps, and low cut shirts. You can see the purple goosebumps all over their legs. Figures, the harpies need to show up and get a leg up on the competition. They are each holding one end of a huge, hand made sign that reads, "FORKS WELCOME'S MASON MASTERWERKS." I sigh, embarrassed for my town. It is too bad their brains aren't pre-equipped with spellcheck and grammarcheck. They continue to squee and jump up and down. Three months of this shit? Really, Jessica and Lauren, could you not spare us the drama? The only upside to their being here is that they are virtually ignored by everyone in the cast and crew, and are held back, far away from the action, by the Quileute security.
It looks like they are getting ready to film the first scene, and there is suddenly a dearth of people needing help at the coffee cart. I reach for my Moleskin, absent-mindedly opening it to the page where the marker is. I look down and see a sketch of a woman with long, wavy hair. She looks beautiful. The name "Bella" is doodled over and over again on the page. What the fuck—I didn't put that in my Moleskine… I look at the cover, and it reads Noble Savage Project Notebook #1—EAC. Oh my god, I accidentally got Edward Cullen's workbook, and he has mine. What the hell is a drawing of a beautiful girl surrounded by my name doing in the Asshat's notebook?
A/N: I realize that I promised epic showdown of Edward and Bella, but the arrival of Masen in Forks took longer than anticipated. I'm sorry to the nth degree. On a side note, I have most of the next chapter written, so the epic showdown will arrive SOON. I'm working night shifts for the next week, so I will try to do a post in the morning before I go to bed…