Still trying to decide whether another 'introductory' chapter is needed or we can delve right into the good stuff. We'll see.

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I squinted my eyes at the bright sunshine pouring through my window. The drapes were doing shit to keep it out of my eyes this morning. I had spent a very restless night, tossing and turning; the pale green sheets were tangled around my ankles.

I turned on my right side, pushing my hair out of my face. I reached over and picked up the black Moleskine I used as a dream journal. I snickered to myself as I picked up a purple pen and poised it over a fresh page. What dreams? I didn't think I had any left; most were nightmares, anyway.

I'd been having a really angsty one lately. More often than not, I woke up in a sweat, heart pounding crazily and shaking all over. In the dream, I was wandering around a dark corridor. Every time I came upon a bend in the narrow hall, I would feel an odd sense of expectation, but the tunnel was relentless. I tried to run faster through the corridor, but I felt extremely heavy. There was a dark sense of foreboding, as though I had lost something and had to find it urgently.

I finished writing the last part of the dream in my shitty penmanship before kicking the rumpled bedcovers away. I didn't bother making the bed; I simply pulled the lavender bedspread over the whole mess and headed for the shower.

Half an hour later, I walked into a Starbucks and ordered my usual iced vanilla latte. I picked the furthest corner away from the door and pulled a trashy fiction novel from my messenger bag. Occasionally, I found myself distracted by the people walking into the coffee shop, but none of them were familiar to me. I'd had to switch Starbucks after an awkward one-night-stand with a guy called Jacob. I'd met him over chocolate-filled pastries and agreed to go out with him that very night. The next morning, I'd snuck out of his apartment, and skipped the Starbucks conveniently located 4 blocks away from my place for the one downtown.

I mean, the sex had been pleasurable in its own right, but there had been no spark, no connection. There was always something missing. Like most of my previous relationships, the guys were simply means to an end. I'd woken up to find Jacob's arm draped over me, and after I'd managed to extricate myself, I simply fled. No fuss, no hassle.

After I finished my latte, I decided to head over to Best Buy and check out their new DVD releases. I kept a huge movie collection that almost rivaled my book collection. The sales guy was overly helpful, making suggestions and trailing discreetly behind me every time I sauntered into the next aisle.

"So… you like the period films?" he asked, noticing the movies I held. I glanced blankly up at him before I was saved by the ring. I pulled my cell and checked the caller ID. Angela. I smiled apologetically at the guy whose nametag read Tyler and answered the phone.

"Hi, honey, how's work today?" I kept the smile plastered on my face.

"Honey? Since when are you one with the terms of endearment?" Angela laughed.

"Oh, well, you know…" I let out a tinkering laugh and shook my head at Tyler. He was still standing there awkwardly. Okay, so my message wasn't getting through.

"Well, whatever game you're playing, just listen to this. Remember how I was telling you about this friend of ours, Eric? He's totally interested in going out with you sometime, what do you think?"

"Um, no, I don't think so. I'll be home at around seven." Hell, no. A few months ago she'd tried to set me up with some guy named Eric. I'd only recently forgiven her and her husband Ben for that one.

"Alright Bella. Even though I think you should at least let me show you his Facebook profile and—"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. Love you, baby." I glanced meaningfully at Tyler once more, and he finally got it. He gave me a half-assed smile and scurried away. Thank God.

"Fine. Hope your stalker left you alone now. Honestly, Bella. Would it kill you—" Angela was humorously annoyed now. Just because her relationship with Ben was nauseatingly perfect, she thought I should find something like it for myself. Fat fucking chance.

"Uh-huh. Bye!" I snapped the Motorola shut and dropped it back in the bag. I was definitely not letting her set me up again. Ever. I made my way to the register and paid for the DVDs. The blazing Arizona sunshine was beating mercilessly on the pavement as I pulled out of the parking lot.

I loved that I had the evening shift at the Maison Rose. It allowed me to wake up late, which I loved; I could get all my errands done, go for an afternoon cup of coffee, and have a session with my therapist if I so chose. I lounged about my apartment; I watched half of one of my new purchases. I prepared my outfit for that night's shift, remembering to wear pantyhose this time.

I drove over to the restaurant, parking at the back. I stepped out, wincing as my heels pinched my feet in all the wrong places. I cursed the stupid misogynist bastard who invented heels as I clicked my way into the restaurant's back door. The night began with the usual round of smiles and polite exchanges with the patrons.

"Excuse me, I'm waiting for someone," said a high-pitched, grating voice.

I glanced up to see a short brunette standing impatiently before me. I offered her a small smile. "Do you have a reservation?"

"It's under his name. Edward Cullen. Is he here yet?" She shifted on her feet and craned her neck past me to peer into the restaurant.

"No, he hasn't been seated yet, ma'am." I added the 'ma'am' with vindictive pleasure. She was clearly my age. "Would you care to wait at the bar? I'll be sure to let him know where you are when he arrives. Your name, please, ma'am?" Score.

"Jessica." Huffing, the woman agreed to have a couple of drinks while she waited. As I walked back to the lectern, I ruminated over the name of her date. Cullen. It sounded vaguely familiar for some reason.

As the evening wore on, I kept stealing glances at Jessica, the brunette. Her hair was overly teased; she had clearly never received the memo declaring the 80s dead. After several cosmos, she threw a piece of gum in her mouth, which she proceeded to chew loudly. God, was I glad I wasn't sitting next to her.

Finally, she had been waiting for over two hours. It was almost midnight when she gave up. Jessica stood from the banquette, wobbling slightly. Had I been her, I would have left after the cosmos. Fuck it, I probably wouldn't have agreed to the blind date anyway. But to have been stood up without even having met… my sympathies.

After closing time, I kept thinking about the name. It bugged me for some reason. It wasn't until after I was in bed again that it hit me. It was also the last name of Maison Rose's owners. They were a married couple called Emmett and Rosalie Cullen. Surely, this Ed guy was related.

I finally drifted off to sleep. I felt safe in the knowledge that every day would be the same as long as the inner void was there. The only thing that made it bearable was that I had a therapy session in a couple of weeks. I wondered if this time, I would be walking in what seemed like another's shoes, another time… sometimes, not even comprehending the language due to my own limitations.

I longed to have someone else's life, different than mine, one that was not so empty.

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Kind of slow… it'll pick up soon enough. Trust me. R&R!