A/N: Here's Chapter Four! I know everybody always asks for reviews, including me, but really, pleaaaase do try to review. Even if it's just one word, Reviews are motivation, and motivation is fuel, and fuel helps me write good chapters, and... well, you get the point.
Disclaimer:
Me:(to SM) Do I own Twilight? SM:No, I do.
Me:(to SM)How bout now?... Darn it!
I do not own Twilight, the characters, Miss congeniality, blah blah blah...
Chapter Four
BPOV
Me and Cullen were walking... well, I was probably trudging... across the street, the restaurant where we were supposed to meet with the stupid professional right in front of us. I rolled my eyes. A diner would have sufficed, but we all must have five star cuisine, mustn't we? Oh well.
We walked straight in, and as I headed for the hostess, Cullen pulled my arm, and I turned around to see a very unhappy looking man staring at me.
"If this is Bella, I quit." the man said. I glared at him, as Ed-Cullen- said, "Yeah it is," I giggled my snort giggle, typical me, and said to the terrified man, "Sorry, bad hair day... Well, more like bad hair decade, really..." He gave me another horrified look, before glaring at Cullen like I seemed to do frequently. Cullen took that as the cue to introduce us, even though the man obviously knew who I was. "Bella, this is James, James, this is Bella. Alright, I gotta get going, sooo, have fun, and..." It was my turn to give him a horrified look. "W-What?" The corners of his mouth twitched, fighting a smirk, as he said, "Yeah, gotta, um go get ready, so, um, bye now." I stared at him open-mouthed as he left the restaurant, in turn leaving me with this James freak. He looked just as unhappy as I did.I awkwardly tried to say something, but all that came out was, "Umm..." Fortunately, I wasn't the only one with the problem, James was trying to do the exact same thing. His face, if mine hadn't looked the same, would have been absolutely hysterical. his eyes were wide, and his expression was torn between looking like he was about to run, to unease and awkwardness.
"Well, are you hungry?" he asked as we sat. "Yea" I replied, as he said, "Yes," I only looked at him, confused, and said, "Yea," again. He said "Yes," And I replied the same way. It repeated once more, before he made me look at him, and he said, "It is always 'yes' never, 'yea,' sit down." We sat, and he started again.
"A model is always well-spoken and polite, do you understand?" A waiter came over while James was lecturing me, and tried to put my stuff down, getting way too close for my comfort. "Hey, hey, hey, watch the hands there, buddy!" I said. The waiter looked confused, but took his hands away and looked at James. "It's alright, Philip, I have a feeling we're going to need a drop cloth later for this one." James assured. I didn't even bother acknowledge that one.
When our food finally arrived, I dug in, and chugged the beer I had ordered. James gave me a look of horror and disgust, before neatly cutting his meat and eating in a very girly manner. When the waiter came back, James asked for another drink, and spoke loudly to me, as I chugged more beer, "Another keg for you?!" I decided to play along, and said, "No, I'm good, thanks." As I ate more food, I asked, or more like attempted to ask, "So, how long have you been doing this model-training gig?" He gave me a confused look, and said, "I'm sorry, what? I was distracted by the half-masticated cow rolling around in your wide open trap." Okay, that's it. "Excuse me, what is your problem?!" I demanded, still eating."Problem?" He acted all innocent. "Yea! I mean 'yes,' I mean, have I offended you in some way? Because quite frankly you've been completely antagonistic to me ever since the second I walked in that door!"
He seemed to ignore my furious mood, as well as my question, and fired off into some stupid story. "Did you know that I was once the most sought after, highly paid consultant in the fashion industry?" I rolled my eyes, and shot back, " I had no idea!" He ignored that too, and went on. "Every show, girls would plead with me to train them." He got an angry look in his eyes. "Ten out of eleven years of training, every girl I trained was magnificent! The year they failed, they failed to the newbies on America's Next Top Model, you couldn't beat that." (A/N: I have absolutely nothing against the show, I watch it sometimes myself, I just couldn't think of anything else, for lack of better words) I gave him a sarcastic look, and he just rolled his eyes. "then, afterwards, every single one of them told Vogue magazine that I was a 'crazed perfectionist' who had harangued them to within an inch of their sanity." I had begun to run my finger around the crystal wine glass, making it ring in a very provoking manner, all the while thinking, Please, make him shut up! "After that came out, nobody wanted me." I was within an inch of my sanity. I spoke up, stopping my hand from moving. "Then, no offense, or anything, but why am I coming to you?" He leaned back in a very proud way, and said, "Because, I am the best." I rolled my eyes. Sure. He looked at me, trying to stare me into believing him. It didn't work, so, he sat normal again, and sighed, "Or, perhaps because everyone worth having had someone to train. They have their little naturals, beauty queens, pageant winners, and I have...dirty harriet."
