Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters. The plot of this is mine, though.

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Chapter 1

I sat there for what seemed like eternity slyly watching his every move. I was debating with myself on whether I should talk to him. My rational, party-pooping side claimed that I was dancing on the verge of insanity. He was nothing more than a random stranger who happened to be extremely good looking with messy bronze hair. I was simply too obsessed with this book that I subconsciously relate everything in reality with the story.

My whimsical, idealistic side, on the other hand, was screaming that I talk to him and investigate a bit. Nothing's impossible, I chanted to myself. I might just lose an opportunity to meet the once-thought-to-be fictitious protagonist I've practically fallen in love with. Doubting my sanity as I wondered if I could be diagnosed with schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder, I gave in to my latter side.

"I'm sorry," I started. "Have we met before?"

He eyed me curiously as he spiraled into deep thought, probably trying to recall memories of me. Not that I knew he'd remember anything, but I still waited for him to snap out of his reminiscing state on his own.

"I don't think so. Why do you ask?" he inquired with a gentle smile.
"It's just that you look strikingly familiar."
"I see," he said as he touched his chin with his index finger and thumb. "If it isn't too rude to ask, I'd like to know your name, ma'am."
"Francesca," I smiled. "And you?"
"My name is Edward," he offered his hand to shake. "Edward Cullen."

My eyes widened a tad as I shook his hand. I watched him carefully, making eye contact. I noticed for the first time that his eyes were green. At least that slashes off the possibility of him being a vampire. I laughed at the ridiculousness of my thoughts and finally decided that he's pulling my leg.

"You must be kidding," I chuckled. "Really now, what's your name?"
"I told you already. Edward Cullen," he eyed me suspiciously.

We stared at each other's eyes for a couple of moments. His emotions were very much evident in his. He looked suspicious, but he seemed honest enough. I finally agreed that he wasn't joking. I laughed at myself, thinking of how stupid I acted. He stared at me like I was insane. I don't blame him.

"Excuse me," he said cautiously. "Not meaning to sound blunt, but are you stoned?"
"No, silly," I laughed. "It's just this really strange coincidence."
"Explain, please?"
"Here," I said as I smiled at him. I pointed to my copy of Twilight. "Have you ever seen, or heard of, this book?"
"I don't think so," he decided. He gazed at the book curiously. "Why?"
"You see," I began. "You look like you sprang out from this paperback novel. You fit the authoress's description quite well. When you told me your name, my word, was I surprised. You even share the same name! Then I turned skeptical. I figured you've read this book and you're aware of your remarkable similarity to the fictitious protagonist. Something like that."
"Well, that's an odd coincidence," he laughed. "Could I borrow your book then, Francesca?"
"Okay," I said as I handed him my book. "Can I ask you something, though?"
"Alright, what is it?"
"Do you know anyone named Bella Swan?"
"Bella Swan? I don't think so."

At least in this real world that exists beyond the pages of the novel, Bella wouldn't be a problem. I grinned to myself and continued consuming my meal.