Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm male, I'm not Stephenie Meyer; therefore I do not own Twilight… Damn

Henry: Hiya!

Soldier Boi: Everybody I would like y'all to meet my ass kissing I mean kicking, ass kicking coauthor/roomie that was Supposed pick out a pseudonym for himself.

Henry: Hang on a second.

Henri: how's this?

Soldier Boi: that's ur real name dumbshit

Henri: yeah, but spelt with an I.

Soldier Boi: Face meet palm, face meet twenty pound text book. Sorry, he's usually a lot sharper. Now for the part u've all been waiting for… the fic

Chapter 1

Bella Swan: Resident Freak of Forks

BPOV

The elaborate ballroom was full of graceful dancers. I could scarcely believe I was among them. I figured his leading was the source of our grace. Here I was; plain, freaky, clumsy Bella Swan in the arms of the most amazing man that that ever breathed.

"I love you mi cantante." He whispered in my ear.

Perfect, everything is just perfect i think to myself. Well almost perfect, it was the behavior of the guests that made me uncomfortable. They pretended to ignore me and yet they all watched me intently. In all honesty, it made me in all my human glory feel less than sexy.

"Edward," I ask, "why do the guests stare like that?"

"Because, they're accustomed to humans being food and servants. I dare say we've shaken things up a little." His eyes grew wide and he pushed me away. "NO!"

I knew what was coming next.

The bronze haired angel that had held me not ten seconds ago was lying on the floor with a silver knife in his chest. I cradled his head in my arms. I was losing him and losing him fast…

Beep, Beep, Beep-

I groaned loudly as I hit my alarm clock. What was I expecting? I've had the same dream since I was a little girl. He always dies in my arms in the end.

I stretched and got out of bed. It was time for another year of purgatory (AKA boarding school). I went to St. Mark's prep school, and it was the start of another term.

When I had said all that I could to my dad, I walked out the door promising to see him at Christmas, I found my best, almost brother, Jasper Hale waiting for me in his yellow Porsche 911 turbo. Personally, I found the car a little too flamboyant for a town as small as Forks.

"Morn'n Dahlin'" he said, "hop in."

When I got in, I found a latte in the cup holder. "Thanks, Jazz." I said as I took a sip. The cool thing about Jazz was that he bought lattes for no reason. We tried to date for a while, but, in the end decided to be best friends. He still felt the need to protect me even though we broke up, and I guess keeping me well caffeinated was part of the job.

"So, how are things on the Maria front?" I asked while pulling out a couple of cigarettes.

"A. hand over the cancer sticks." He grabbed pack out of my hand and pulled out a silver antique lighter and gave us both a light. "B. She's still shunning me because I hang out with the 'freak'."

"Wow, Jazz ever think of what life might be like if you weren't my friend?"

"Sounds boring." He laughed.

We possess what most people call "the sight". For as either of us could remember, we've been able to see spirits. For many years, I thought I was alone. That is, until he moved here when I was seven. Our common ability allowed us to become instant friends.

In the past, we just spent a lot of time helping lost ghosts crossing over. But, over the past year spirits having been getting a lot more aggressive and we've been running into a lot more demons. Tragically, we've had to hunt more spirits than we help. And the worst part is, jasper would often put himself in harm's way to make sure I don't get hurt. It's like its instinctive or something.

"Hey, you remember to pack some illegal fireworks and spray paint in case we need them?"

"Check."

"Jack?"

"Check."

"420?"

"What?"

"Just kidding."

"What about the Strawberry Hill?"

"Of course, I also got some stuff that you can call booze as well."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tinkerbelle, that shit isn't even worthy of being called digestible, let alone wine." We laughed in unison.

We parked under a tree, and headed towards the dorm room we've shared since we were freshmen.

The dorm room looked the same as I remembered it. My side was still plastered in posters of bands and movies I liked and Jasper's side was organized and spotless. In the corner there was a guitar and drums, (I played guitar, and he played the drums). And

Everything was the same, except, on the couch; there was a small duffle bag with the initials E.M.

"What's this?" I asked

"E.M.'s duffle; obviously."

"Yeah, but, who or what is E.M?"

"Some new guy probably."

"Week of eating the chicken says he's going to be Emo."

"You're on." The fried chicken at St. Mark's was notoriously revolting. We often made the joke that it was 90% cardboard and 10% chemicals compressed to look like chicken.

E.M. (or Edward Mason as we learned was his name), was more of a punk rocker than Emo. He wore an Eagles concert shirt that was so faded that it could have been from one of their first concerts, black jeans with holes in the knees and a black vintage trench coat that almost made him look like he was from another century. Strapped to his back was a candy apple red guitar I found the stark contrast between the solemnity of his dark clothes and the vividness of the instrument on his back striking.

His angel face betrayed his attempt to look like a true rock star. He had such an innocent look that one would think he didn't know the first thing about anger, depression, or hating "the man".

His emerald eyes told another story. They told me he was wise beyond his years and completely lethal. They seem to say don't fuck with me.

The neophyte explained that he was an exchange student from Italy and he was going to share our dorm since Jazz and I both spoke fluent Italian. We didn't really need to use it since he didn't speak much and when he did it was in English.

The day passed surprisingly fast, I spent most of it giving Edward the grand tour of St. Mark's. I pointed out land marks such as the different tables,(the drama geek table, the math nerd table, the plastic table, and the" you have to be really desperate to sit here table; aka our table), the ancient buildings that had yet to be torn down that students hide in to shoot up, and the conveniently placed woods that border the school.

Finally I showed him school mascot, the possessed swan (from a distance of course, you don't want to get too close to it).

"The school has pet swan?" He'd asked.

"The word pet has certain amount of tameness." I'd told him, "that feathered fiend is a force of pure evil and his nest should never ever, ever be approached without proper protection."

The look on his face told me he didn't believe me. I hoped I had a camera on me the day he finds out I'm not kidding.

The weirdest part of the day was that I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity about him. It was weird.

I couldn't help but notice that the beautiful boy I'd met only a few hours before looked oddly familiar

Soldier Boi: Hey what do you think? Edward's POV coming up next! U'll get the chance to meet Edward's psycho fiancé in the next chapter if ur good to us and vote on my poll and review. Remember the more u guys review, the faster I'll update.

Oh and a free banner to the first who guesses where I got the Idea for the evil swan! Said swan will pop up again very soon. Let's just say it will be very well acquainted with Edward's ass well before part 1 is done ;)

Something I forgot to mention in the beginning, I'm going to be changing a couple vamp rules. For instance, food is more of an emotional supplement to vampires (it's also addictive), vampires can cast glamours over themselves to help them blend in (so humans don't see them sparkling in the sun), and most importantly Vampires can and do sleep under certain occasions like extreme exhaustion, or being knocked out, or really strong alcohol. More rules as I go along sorry if you don't like that thought, but, I hope I will work out in the end.

and look me up on deviantart; I made a pretty cool banner for this fic. I'm doing teasers on twitter too, so check me out

Henri: r u done yet? Ur author's note is as long as the chapter itself! And I wanna play World of War Craft:(

Soldier Boi: YES! HAPPY NOW?! Well, this is Soldier signing off (gets pushed indignantly off of chair by Henri) Ow! Hey!