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LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.

16.

"You're no fun anymore!" Leaning over the mixing table, Victoria got all on up in his face as she confronted him. "What's the matter, Edward? Jail time didn't turn you into a softie, did it?"

"Not now," Edward growled, his focus fixed on getting the demo to his newest song as perfect as it could be in as little time as possible. "A car's coming to pick me up in two hours and we're nowhere near getting this song up to scratch." Having gone through the process of recording an album a few times, Edward knew that perfection wasn't a necessity in the early stages of this recording process they were in at that point. Still, the songs they were trying to come to grips with meant something to him—a lot more than any song had ever done. He wanted to do them justice from the start.

"There's something wrong with the base line as we go into the bridge," he muttered, motioning for one of the studio tech's to hit 'play back' once more. "It doesn't mesh with the rest of the instruments." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get his mind behind what was wrong with it so that he could fix it. "And you need to lay off the snare when we hit the chorus. Right now it's sounding sharp when it should be smooth."

Victoria merely shrugged, making a mental note of the changes Edward wanted her to make. "I'll caress it like a baby's bottom, boss," she answered, her voice dripping with her usual arrogance. Growing up as the only daughter of a legendary drummer, she knew she was the fucking best of her generation. What she also knew, though, was that as good as she was, Edward was better. Where she knew how to play her instrument—and damn good, too—he had the vision to combine all of the different elements in his band into music that fucked with the senses.

"Laurent!" Edward called out needing his bass player's opinion as the solution to the 'bridge problem' that still evaded him. Listening together, though, they managed to figure it out just in time to put a much better version of the song together than the shit they started off with.

And as always, Laurent managed to pick it up; earning his position as Edward's quiet, laid back right-hand man once more.

Edward had found the guy in some seedy bar in New Orleans during his first tour. Up until then, things hadn't gone exactly as planned. His need to be in control of everything had meant he'd clashed severely with both his band and their road crew and only a few hours before, he'd sacked his previous bass player after they'd butted heads over another creative difference. It was when he came to the bar, intending to drown his sorrows and wallow away the frustration that touring had brought him so far that he spotted Laurent.

He left that night with a new bass player in tow and a refreshed outlook on how he wanted the rest of the tour to go. And ever since, Laurent had fulfilled the promise Edward had picked up on when he had first heard the strange, Jack Sparrow lookalike pluck a rhythm from his bass guitar. It didn't matter that he was a functioning alcoholic who hardly ever spoke, when it came to music, Laurent was as strong as a brick house. He had to be, with James constantly setting himself up in competition as Edward's man.

"Better…much better." Edward smiled as he carefully lifted the guitar strap over his head, handling it with a tenderness he only showed towards one other element in his life. Bella. Looking at the clock, his smile grew. "And with time to spare, too; Aro will be surprised as shit!" Hell, he was too! As the past couple of sessions had all run late, Edward had felt the pressure of having to race back to his sister's house to meet house curfew all too often.

"Since when did you turn into such a damn citizen?" James scowled, the way he shoved his guitar into its case making Edward cringe. He hated it when musicians abused the precious instruments that made their music shine.

He also hated being called a citizen, even though he had to admit—though be it very grudgingly—that James had a point. Citizen was the word they always used to refer to the people who looked down on them; the good citizens who didn't understand the world of rock 'n roll and therefore rejected what it stood for. They were everything he and his band members were not: straight-laced, sober, stable and sedentary.

If there was ever an anti-citizen, James would have been it. Growing up in a loveless house, he'd run away as soon as he deemed himself capable of surviving on the street, taking only his guitar and what cash his deadbeat parents had around the house with him. The life he'd led from then on had shaped him out to be a hard man; charming when he needed to be, generous when he thought it would serve him but, most of all, shrewd and ruthless.

He'd seen his golden opportunity in Edward, securing his spot in the talented musician's band by posing as his friend while making him dependent on the steady flow of drugs and alcohol his previous life had given him access to. And since this tactic had brought him so much success, he'd used the same with Victoria, his non-exclusive girlfriend.

Living on the streets, he'd learned to constantly be on his guard and spot a threat from a mile away. And right then, he had the distinctive feeling that his hold over Edward was under threat. "What's with the whole 'needing to get away' thing anyway?" he challenged, taking a swig from a nearly empty bottle of Jack that had been full at the start of the day. "What happened to the whole 'fuck the police' thing we had going on?"

"Jail time?" Edward spat back. "You know my sister stuck her neck out for me. I don't want to get her into more fucking trouble than she's already in."

"How very upstanding of you!" James mocked in reply, handing his girlfriend a small plastic bag filled with little white pills as he knew she needed a little pick-me-up after a long day. "You're not fooling me, though. There's something else…" Pensively tapping his lips, he took a few moments to penetrate his boss' armor before he went with his gut feeling. "It's a girl, isn't it? Someone in your sister's house?"

"That's none of your fucking business!" Edward lashed out, immediately seeing the mistake he'd made reflected in James' sinister smile. He wished he could just sack the asshole, and his toxic girlfriend, too, for that matter. But the fact of the matter was that he would be very hard-pressed to find anyone out there who could fill the brief as well as they had. On a personal level, James and Victoria couldn't be more wrong for him if they tried but, when it came to making music, he knew he needed both of them. And the worst thing was, they knew it as well.

"So it is a girl," James mused on. "And a girl you seem very protective of, so I think she's somehow connected to your sister. A friend of hers, I bet." No, James could see that his guess was off the minute he'd voiced it. But there was another alley he could venture into. "Someone who works for her, maybe?" Yes, that was it. "A good, righteous little citizen who's made you stray from your path."

Edward balled his hands into fists, wishing the car would fucking get there to pick him up but even more so, wishing that James wasn't such a damn perceptive son of a bitch. "Stay out of it, James," he warned, his voice low as his blood boiled in his veins with a pure, protective rage.

"No can do, little grasshopper," James taunted, wrapping his arm around his newly high girlfriend. "I'm here to keep you from making mistakes, remember? And right now, you're making one hell of a big one!"

"And why is that?" Edward snarled, his fists clenching around the case of his guitar as if it could protect him from harm. Or would do harm. "And don't go telling me that I'm no good for her because I already fucking know, okay?"

"But it's true," James pressed. "You know you can never be what she needs you to be no matter how damn hard you try. And she can never be what you need either…you know what I mean. Once you've lived this life, the one of a citizen just doesn't fit anymore." He shook his head, outwardly assuming the role of the worried friend while inwardly his mind was spinning with the need to annihilate this threat before it could pluck his little cash cow out of his grasp. "You'll only end up hurting her, and yourself, too, if you're not careful."

"Stay the fuck out of it, you fuck!" Edward growled, though uncertainty and defeat were starting to creep into his voice. "I mean it!"

"And besides, do you really think she can give you what you want?" James went on, his eyes shining with the triumph of an almost certain victory. "Picture what it's like backstage and then try to add her to that picture…"He paused, giving Edward time to execute his demand; James himself reliving moments of grabbing the first faceless female he could spot and bending her over for a quick fuck to retain his post-performance high for as long as possible often while being watched by Victoria as she played with herself. "Do you really see that happening? Do you really see her holding her own in our delightful little world of depravity?"

No, Edward couldn't.

He'd known from the start that their worlds were violently incompatible but ,up until that moment, he'd chosen to pretty much close his eyes to all that shit and live in the moment. Until, of course, James had to go and burst his bubble.

"She's a citizen, Edward," Victoria added with a dramatically compassionate sigh, her eyes large and wide with the effects of the drugs she had taken. "She's vanilla craving for a dash of butterscotch while you…you're rocky road."

"The rockiest fucking road on the planet!" James chimed in with a sardonic little chuckle.

"They're right," Laurent added reluctantly. "You see this relationship as a test, no?" Pausing, he took a swig from his never-absent bottle of Bourbon. "Do you think that's fair to her? Are you sure this experiment of yours isn't going to end up hurting her?"

"What he said, darling," Victoria crooned, straddling him as she brought a bottle of Jack to his lips. And he drank, the seeds of doubt germinating in his mind no matter how hard he tried to fight it. "We aren't meant for people like her. We don't do two point five kids, yellow labs, and trips to the zoo."

For a moment, Edward thought about the day he'd spent at the Bronx Zoo, chasing after his sister's kids while trying to make sense of their nanny. It had been bliss but in his heart he knew that wasn't the kind of life he aimed for. It was the escape, whenever life on the road got too much and he needed some air. But staying put and tying yourself to one person for the foreseeable future? He couldn't even think about it.

Not even if it meant being able to keep her.

No. As a nervous looking intern came to announce the arrival of Edward's car—his sweet escape—Edward's mind was already made up, though the feeling at the pit of his stomach was anything but the sensation of calm that came after making a good decision.

That didn't matter, though, for his resolve was strong.

It was the best thing to do, even if he regretted the fact that he would cause pain by doing it. For a few sweet days, he'd been able to smell the peace and bliss of the other world but it was time to return to the harshness of reality.

The bubble needed to bust.

The only thing that was left to decide was how.

Thoughts?