Chapter 7

Edward was a tired soul. It was the only description that could label both his immediate circumstances and his life. After impatiently waiting and finally concluding that Alice would not be joining him for an afternoon movie, he grabbed his overly priced large soda and candy and apologized as he brushed past the elderly couple in the sparsely occupied theater.

It was typical of Alice to not show up for any engagement that they had planned. He wasn't worried, just annoyed at her lack of being discourteous for other's time. While they had only known each other for just a few months, she was quite the ray of sunshine in his life. It was at his mother's insistence that he become more social, and he met the extroverted girl at a local show on the uppity side of the city. One of his favorite bands was playing, and he begrudgingly dragged himself out his parent's small apartment to attend. It didn't take long as he sat at the bar nursing a beer that Alice walked up and made him dance.

They had been friends ever since.

She was on the other side of the tracks, wealthy and a senior at the local university. Edward was quiet and shy, uneducated and poor. They were vastly different, but they balanced each other out.

Edward paced to out in the summer heat towards his old, gray coloured Volvo. The car he had saved up money to buy was constantly causing him trouble, but he refused to give it up. It was his baby, and he was proud to have something that he bought with his own money.

Unlike his father, but that was a different story for a different day.

After begging prayers and several turns to the ignition, the car rumbled to life, and Edward weaved in and out of the city's busy traffic until he parked in front of his apartment building. He locked the doors manually and kept his head down from the local neighbors as he ran up the crumbling steps.

He didn't live in a fairy land; he knew damn well he lived in the ghetto. You didn't linger outside for longer than necessary unless you were dealing drugs or buying them. The outside brick, three-storied structure that was covered in graffiti mimicked the inside. As he entered through the door, he tried to ignore the dingy walls whose paint was peeling and the cracks from water damage. The smell of marijuana strongly filtered his nostrils and he held his breath as he flew up one flight of steps to apartment 2B.

Home sweet home.

He didn't bring anyone here. Not that he had friends, but even when Alice begged, he made up an excuse about his mother being sick. Edward was absolutely ashamed of his living situation and often longed for the days of his previous middle-class house that remained a mere dream in the suburbs.

But those were just memories, and he knew there was no point in fantasizing of a better life.

"Sweetie? Back so soon?"

Esme Cyllen emerged from the kitchen, a baffled look upon her face. It was once said that Esme was quite the beauty, but years of stress and hardship had replaced her beauty with wrinkles, hard lines, and disorderly locks of copper hair. The green eyes in which he had inherited were no longer shining, but rather glazed over and replaced with a darker shade of jade.

Edward kissed his mother on the cheek and sighed.

"Yeah Mom, Alice was a no-show."

She patted his shoulder. "Oh you know how busy those college girls can be. She probably had to study or something."

Edward nodded, not bothering to tell her that Alice didn't have class today. "Where's Dad?"

Esme shifted on her feet and walked towards the tiny, rundown kitchen to stir the pot of soup that was on their ancient stove. "He's sleeping. Not feeling good, you know?"

Edward rolled his eyes and refused to acknowledge the truth. "Not feeling good" meant that Carlisle Cyllen had once again fallen into a drunken stupor. Instead of getting out of prison and changing his life for the better, he drank every day and refused to look for work. He had never believed in divorce, but why a strong woman like his mother wouldn't just kick his ass out already, he didn't understand.

Esme stirred the soup and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Oh! Guess what? I received a letter from Mason today. He's doing well. His battalion is supposed to be switching locations soon, but he sent these pictures."

Esme handed Edward an envelope that Specialist Cyllen, Edward's fraternal twin brother, had mailed to them from Afghanistan. Edward grimaced, and put on a fake smile. He loved his brother, but felt deeply betrayed.

At twenty-four, Mason had abandoned him and joined the army, seeking a better livelihood. They were supposed to be partners, instead, Mason claimed he "needed to get out of this shithole" and signed his life over to the government. Edward couldn't fault him for that, of course, but it still hurt him to the core. The past two years had been hell without him. When their Dad had gone on drunken rampages, Edward didn't have Mason to help him. He felt alone and deserted that he had been left to pick up the pieces of his family's mess.

Edward scanned the letter, silently grateful that his brother's troop was transferring out of Afghanistan to a smaller remote city. Enclosed were several pictures of his brother and his mates, all smiling in the blistering heat of the sandy country. Edward's heart wrenched at the sight of his successful and happy brother.

Mason was the only reason his family survived on a day-to-day basis. He sent money home when he could. Esme worked part-time at a local hotel, and because of her lack of education and the economy, that was all the work she could find. Carlisle refused to get off his behind, and Edward, well…

He had yet to tell anyone besides Alice about his career choice. If his mother ever found out, his ass was grass. They had been brought up with morals, and the term prostitution couldn't be hidden behind good intentions. Edward was saving up money to get his family out of this place. Until then, he put every dime in a shoebox under his bed and cursed himself daily that he and his kin were still living on food stamps.

He knew he was too old to be living at home, but unlike Mason, Edward couldn't bear to leave Esme behind with her monster of a husband. He wasn't abusive, but he tended to get loud and say things he shouldn't when he was drunk. Carlisle remained on probation and justified his laziness as a way to stay out of trouble. If he stayed home all day, he wouldn't get thrown back into prison over the littlest thing. It was noble in theory, that is, until they all starved to death. The only time Edward had dipped into his savings was to pay the back rent, claiming he had done some yard work for some wealthy homeowners across town. Esme was beyond grateful, and it was only because he had seen the stress leave her delicate face that he continued to be a whore.

Edward excused himself, refusing their meager lunch of vegetable homemade soup, and made his way into his tiny faded blue bedroom. Clustered underneath the window were his full sized bed, an old dresser in front of him and a narrow door leading to the bathroom that connected his and Mason's bedroom. Mom and Dad's bedroom was down the hallway, but the three bedroom apartment held no luxuries. Every room was small, the hardwood floor was cold, and even though Esme tried to keep their humble abode clean, it would never be enough. However, that didn't stop crack-heads from breaking and entering at least once a year. Edward couldn't count the number of times their small television and used DVD player had been stolen. He finally installed several dead bolt locks to protect what few items they had.

Edward lay down and checked his cellphone, the one expensive electronic he owned which was given to him by Isabella for business purposes. Neither she nor Alice had returned his phone calls.

He settled onto his scratchy comforter, cursing his father for being the reason all of their belongings had been pawned off to pay his legal fees. He rested into a slumber, trying to sleep before his appointment tonight.

He hated who he was, and what he to do in order to survive, but he would never regret it.

In fact, he often thanked Isabella for hiring him when there were no other jobs available.

If only she knew, he thought.

If only she knew.