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

26.

Fidgeting backstage, Edward was having some of the hardest moments of his life.

In the distance, he could hear the rumble of the crowd, building excitement, their buzz growing louder as the time he was expected on stage grew nearer. With the swelling of the sound, a familiar chemical reaction started in his blood; the push…his drive to perform and have them hanging on his words and following the strum of his fingers as they plucked his guitar strings. He craved their energy…their screams…their praise.

But it had been a fucking long time since he'd faced their collective judgment stone-cold sober.

Even when he'd just started out as a musician, he'd always had a couple of beers before he walked on stage; just a little alcohol to numb the nerves and take the edge of the overwhelming feeling of exposure that came with baring your deepest darkest soul in front of a roaring crowd. It had been his shield—his first line of defense.

And since the pattern of drinking himself calm was gone, he realized just how much he had relied on it.

"You're going to be okay, kid." Aro assured him, though the effect fell rather flat on the disinterest shining through in his voice. It left Edward in no illusion about the true reason his manager had shown up that night: protecting his investment.

However, Edward had little doubt about how his sobriety would have fared without those black hawk-like eyes following his every move around the dressing room. As much as he didn't want to drink at that moment, he knew damn well he would have caved if he had spotted a bottle of whiskey at that moment.

It would start with just one hit to take the edge off.

Then another because he was still feeling edgy.

A third because the stuff tasted so damn good.

And then the whole bottle because, hell, he'd already sinned anyway.

He needed his sobriety almost as much as he needed his performance at Stinky's that night to be a hit. This place would get him back in the public eye; back where he needed to be to gain the attention of the record company bigwigs. His soberness and the absence of negative publicity that came hand-in-hand with that, would clinch the deal.

Or so he hoped.

"Fuck!" He muttered, leaning his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself the fuck down. The pressure on his shoulders was too big to handle, especially when sober. So much was riding on that night's show that he felt it could only end in a complete and utter fuck up.

No pressure, right?

Just then, a nervous looking intern came knocking on the door, announcing that everything was ready for him to go on stage.

"Best not to keep them waiting, then," Aro nodded along, ushering his client forward like it was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. "Dazzle them, Edward; show them you still have it."

Edward's mouth was pressed in a tense, thin line as he shuffled forward, wishing more than anything to be back at the beach house where he had been most comfortable. Back with Bella…

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he stood in the wings, soaking up the adrenaline of the crowd as the lights were dimmed and the room filled with anticipation and excitement. "You've got this, Edward," he quietly spoke to himself as he checked his guitar for the final time. "You can do this."

And with that, he stepped forward into the light and the rush of applause and cheers as the crowd spotted him coming into view. He knew the minute the first people started to recognize him; their encouraging cheers deepened into an almost primal roar.

From that point on, instinct took over. He was faintly aware of his backup band—a group of excellent musicians handpicked by Aro based on skill and sobriety—following him out as they took their positions.

Stepping up to the microphone, Edward's voice trembled as he greeted his audience. "Hello, New York, I'm Anthony Massone and I'm going to play some songs for you tonight." It was the lamest announcement he'd ever made but at least it was truthful. After all, Anthony was his middle name and 'Massone' was the Italian translation of his surname that Aro had, in all his genius, come up with. It was a chance to try out some of the songs he'd written the previous summer in a new setting and with a new band to back him up in the hopes of getting approval from the audience.

And that they got.

Loudly.

Looking back on that night, Edward knew that it had been the making of him. Where prison had seen him break free from his old life, and his summer with Bella being his rebirth, that night was his second chance as a musician. Performing his songs with just an acoustic bass, an old Hammond organ and a set of drums to back up his vocals and a guitar, he felt himself connected to the likes of a young Dylan or Pete Seeger. That was what his music was supposed to sound like.

That was the magic that happened when it all came together.

He gave his all, pouring himself into every single note until, at the end of the night, he was utterly spent; the faceless, nameless audience still screaming for more as he all but collapsed in the wings, his drummer—whose name he'd already forgotten—held him up as Aro fed him water from a bottle in a desperate attempt to revive him enough to play an encore.

"Give them two more," his manager ordered, patting Edward on the back in a gesture that looked friendly enough to the outsider but felt like a warning to the man hearing it. "Play some of the older songs…something that's a sure winner with this crowd."

Edward nodded, his arms heavy and his hair drenched in sweat as he panted out the titles to two of his former hits, hoping his new band had brushed up enough to be able to play catch up. They were good; even Edward had to admit it. The music was as solid as it had been with Laurent, James and Victoria and, whether it was because of Aro's warning or the vibe Edward himself gave off, they also knew not to bother him too fucking much. They played his songs and they played them pretty fucking good and as far as Edward was concerned, that was it. He didn't feel the need to become their friend, their drinking buddy or anything else that would give them power over him.

This time around, he would be the one in control of things.

Or at least, as much as Aro would allow him.

Walking back out into the darkness of the stage, he felt the love and energy pulsing from the audience give him just that little bit of energy he needed to get going again. "This is one of the old ones," he announced to a crowd going completely wild as he started an acoustic version of one of his better known songs. Closing his eyes, leaning his head back into the bright lights overhead as he soaked up the atmosphere while his fingers plucked at the strings.

This was where he was supposed to be.

That was how it was supposed to be done.

In that moment, only three things were missing from his life to make it absolutely perfect: the trust that he would be able to see this through in the long run, the absence of his sister—his only family—from his life and, most of all, the gaping hole in his heart that he put there on that fateful summer morning.

He'd needed that hole and all the shit that came with it to pull him through rehab and offer him a future goal to work towards, but he would have given anything to have her standing there in the wings instead of Aro.

Would she ever hear the songs she'd inspired?

What would she think if she did?

Would they anger her?

Upset her?

Make her remember?

Make her more likely to forgive him?

A few minutes later, he stumbled backstage again; the crowd quickly dispersing as the lights came on. He felt spent but not in the bad ways he'd experienced in rehab or the crash after a night of drinking and using. No, this was the exhaustion that came from a night of doing the thing you'd always dreamed of doing; a night where everything fell into place.

He'd missed it.

"Mr. Masen?" The nervous looking intern was back again, but this time Edward didn't find his presence in his dressing room all that funny. He longed for a few minutes of peace and quiet; minutes that were finally afforded now that Aro was busy schmoozing.

"What?" he asked gruffly, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"There's a woman at the door who claims you have to see her friend," the poor intern stammered. "I've tried to get her to leave…especially after what Mr. Volturi said, but she's quite persistent. She says her friend is someone you would definitely want to see."

"I doubt it," Edward grumbled, though deep down a tiny spark of hope ignited almost as quickly as it was squashed again. "What's her name?"

"Alice Brandon, sir," the intern was quick to respond. So quick Edward almost expected a salute to be tacked on the back of that announcement.

"Don't know her," Edward answered, not without a tiny bit of disappointment. "Tell her to take a hike. I'm not in the business of entertaining groupies anymore."

"But…" the intern dawdled, his hands nervously twitching by his side. "Her friend's name, sir…she said you'd definitely know that one."

Edward sighed as he flung on a hoodie. "Well, try me," he finally relented, taking pity on the poor soul.

"She said her name is Bella Swan."

Thoughts?

I'm sorry to leave you guys with yet another cliffie but it looks like the next update won't be before the 26th. It's exam- time which for me, as a teacher means that RL has to come first for a bit. It'll try my best to have the next chapter up on the 26th, though. The good news is that after that, I see no more delays happening in the future and I will be able to go back to my regular posting schedule.