Edward

The disdain rolled off her in waves, and it was all Edward could do to just get her to look at him as he held her during the bride and groom's first dance.

Somehow, he'd screwed up. To Edward it was painfully obvious he had upset her in some way, evidenced by how she appeared perfectly happy around others but hardly looked at him…or spoke one-word answers when he tried to initiate conversation.

So, not only was the amazing brunette with whom he'd had to make a meager effort to speak with not ever going to be an option but now his actual bride, who'd vowed to love, honor, and cherish him on camera, danced stiffly along to the music, as though she'd rather be with anyone else. Story of his life. Wasn't this why he was here? Because somehow he attracted the very wrong women? Was it him?

"Rosalie, I get the feeling I said or did something wrong, and whatever what it was…I apologize."

The camera came upon them, and his bride's face lit up. "No worries," she sang, tilting her head to the side. She then laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. For show. She was acting one way for the show and the opposite with him.

He exhaled a breath and waited until the camera was out of sight, and Rosalie lifted her head then, her expression returning to the mask of ice it had been earlier.

"Please, Rosalie? I'd rather not have our marriage begin this way. Will you please just tell me what I did wrong?"

It took a minute and the song was coming to an end before she finally spoke. "You wanted me to be real, didn't you?" Her tone was icy cold, but her lips fell into a smile when her dad approached.

"May I cut in?"

Their song had just ended, and the DJ announced the father/daughter dance, so Edward felt like a putz standing in the middle of the dance floor. Then the cameras and their operators appeared at different angles, and he could only imagine, sense what was going on.

The producer gestured Edward into the private room, and he ran his fingers through his hair. He wished he could figure out what that meant. Now, it was like being sent to the principal's office, only without the benefit of knowing what trouble he'd incited.

"It doesn't look like it's going so well," the producer began.

"It isn't. And I must've really pissed her off. I'm at a loss. Until I can get her to really talk to me, I don't know how to make it better." He said all this to the producer as though she was a confidante and not the person who orchestrated the show for profit and entertainment.

"I see. How do you feel about Rosalie? Do you like her?"

"She doesn't like me. How do you expect me to feel about her? I feel defensive and like I don't belong here, and that maybe this was a very bad idea."

"Okay, well this is a very unusual circumstance, so what we're going to do is bring on the show's therapist - Dr. Saltz. Are you willing to engage in a pre-wedding night couple's session with the therapist?"

Would Rosalie even agree to this?

"I would be in favor of anything that will result in something better than this."

She nodded. With that, they returned to the reception area and he smiled as his dad approached, an older version of Edward- same bushy eyebrows, red hair but with gray that peppered his hairline. "How is it going, son?"

"How does it look?"

He laughed, and Edward Masen, Esquire, hardly ever laughed, but in this instant must've found humor in his son's situation. After all, he'd been expressly against it. Not that Edward had expected less. "Not so good."

That was what Edward was afraid of. Now, as his dad proceeded to remind him that there were only six weeks and he was free to divorce, Edward watched the producer approach Rosalie, whose gaze darted towards him, and after a moment, she nodded to the producer. He assumed she'd agreed to what would become their first counseling session.

The limo ride was very quiet, and he turned to Rosalie. "I really want to work this out with you. I am serious about being here. Are you?"

Now, he'd put her on the spot. The camera man sat opposite of them watching, pointing his camera, and their mikes picked up their every word…He resisted looking at the producer, although he guessed that America would have sided with him on this one.

Rosalie's gaze shot to Edward. "What do you think? We're gonna talk to Dr. Saltz. Jesus. We're probably the first couple to have counseling before our wedding night."

What did he think? If honesty was what she wanted, he could start off by telling her that he believed she was only there to get attention and didn't have any intention of finding a husband. But, was this how he wanted their limo ride to be expressed on film? He wished this session with Dr. Saltz didn't need to be filmed.

They entered the room - a quite comical scene as his bride lifted the hem of her dress, gliding through the doorway. Perfectly suited for counseling, he thought, pale blue walls, even the scent of lavender filled the air. A loveseat sat on one side and two chairs on the other. Rosalie took the chair closest to the therapist, and the crew set up the camera and the lighting. The sound person made sure their microphones were working, and they shook hands with the beloved Dr. Saltz. The show's therapist, a petite powerhouse in her 60's with dyed blonde hair who looked upon all the show's couples with kind eyes and words of wisdom. The norm was that they would meet with her post-honeymoon… if needed.

The producer counted down, and at 3, the camera was pointed at Dr. Saltz.

"Hello, Edward and Rosalie. It's such a pleasure to meet the both of you, especially under such unique circumstances. Here you two sit, hardly knowing each other, and I imagine the idea of the wedding night must be…unpleasant. So, who would like to begin? Rosalie?"

Rosalie shook her head, even after she'd agreed to do this! Now she'd reverted back to silence.

"Edward?"

"Okay. I said something to her that bothered her, and I don't know what it was."

"Alright. I've been shown the footage of the ceremony, and let me tell you what I have observed, since, as you know I don't know either of you - this is the first time we've met. Edward, you seemed sincere, but you appear to be reacting to Rosalie.

Rosalie, you are smiles and sunshine for the cameras, sweetie, but not so much for your groom. Now, where I noticed this was when Edward said that he was looking forward to getting to know the real you. Did you take offense to this?"

"Of course!" she spat, to Edward's surprise. "Who wouldn't?"

He was taken aback. The real her. This was a term people used all the time - being their authentic, true self. Edward had not predicted this would have struck a chord with her.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he told her. "I also want you to know the real me. The one that America isn't going to see. That's what I meant."

"Oh," she said softly, curling her hands into one another.

"What did you think Edward meant?" Dr. Saltz asked.

"I thought…he was…accusing me of being fake." Her eyes stayed downcast.

Wasn't she? Was she being real now? It was hard for him to tell.

"I don't know you, Rosalie, and this is hard. I have no idea what will upset or offend you, and I'm sorry we started off on the wrong foot. Truly, I wasn't accusing you of anything."

When Rosalie looked up, she had tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I…have issues…apparently. I've never felt good enough as myself, so I try to pretend I'm better than who I really am."

Dr. Saltz swooped in. "I see. I've seen your videos, Rosalie. You've appeared very self-assured. Do you feel like you have to play a role? Like you can't be your real self?"

"Apparently," she said, lifting her shoulders. Tears slid down her face, and he felt an absolute wretch for this, even though her issues had nothing to do with him. "And now, America's going to see me as a basket case." She turned to the tissue box and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

"You care very much what people think," Dr. Saltz observed.

"Who doesn't? Especially when you've been told all your life, you're never gonna be good enough. You have to look this way, and smile, otherwise people are not going to like you. Wait. Can you cut this part out? I just… my dad…can you please just not show this?"

"I believe they can be very creative with the editing process."

The editing process. Something he'd not given too much attention to. He'd heard how they could take a perfectly civil conversation and with a few different clips, add in some music, focus on an expression, and boom, drama.

"How about this, Rosalie?" he offered. "Allow me to get to know the real you."

"I don't even know who that is," she said, her face crumpling as the producer handed her a tissue.

For a creature as divinely beautiful as she, Rosalie hadn't much trust in herself.

Edward held out his hand to her. "Let's find out together."

She sniffed, and wiped her nose, then nodded and placed a gloved hand in his. "Okay."

"I have an idea," he said, "maybe a little not what the show wants, but let's start over - forget the whole tux and wedding gown. You just be you, Rosalie, and I will be me, Edward. Can we do that?" Edward glanced over to the producer, which was not what they were supposed to do, but heck, maybe they would cut this part out too.

The producer gave him a thumbs up, and he turned back to Rosalie. "Rosalie, what were you like as a little girl?"

Rosalie

They spent almost an hour and a half in that room, and she could only imagine how the world would see her. A fickle princess who didn't know what she wanted. Was that her? Is this who she'd become? For years she'd planned her future, never looking back. She was going to be an actress - make it to the A-list, have it all - the career, the family, the success… live happily ever after. Who didn't want these things?

The crew followed them inside their honeymoon suite, which seemed like a joke to her. She'd been hoping that since their discussion that Edward wouldn't try some gallant move like trying to carry her over the threshold or something as nonsensical as that. He seemed sensible enough. She didn't give him the chance, and she should have believed him anyway because it had been his idea to get to know one another…to just forget, or rather, put on hold as the producer reminded them afterward in private that they were, in fact, married.

The honeymoon suite was everything she could've hoped for…big sliding door leading out to a spacious balcony, featuring a 360 degree view of Los Angeles and the buildings as far as the eye could see. The bed was huge with petals scattered about, and held a round tray with champagne and fruit and chocolates. The scent of roses filled the room. Except, that in her mind, she'd imagined/hoped for a very different outcome - that instant connection. Instead they were already primed to be the couple who had to fight their way through every stage of the experiment, only to divorce in the end.

As she fingered the floral arrangement in the middle of the room, Edward picked up his suitcase and headed to the adjoining room, which she hadn't seen yet.

He hadn't said a word about it. And despite the feelings she'd had toward him just hours before, he'd totally called her out. She'd fooled everyone up until this point her entire life. But here came this stranger who now gave her cause to question everything. Of course she resented him. She had been fake. Who was Rosalie Hale really? Would Edward even like the real her? She wasn't sure she did.

Edward was quite sweet. And handsome. And smart in a nerd-ish, bookish way. In truth, they made a nice couple in the photos…which had pissed her off even more. Because she was pretending to like him, pretending to be happy. That was she. Rosalie. She'd pretended for so long and buried the real her so far inside herself that the real Rosalie had given up the fight to make herself known.

But, here, Edward insisted he wanted to know who she was. She had to unearth her, and this was not going to be easy. Especially with the cameras following them about. So, now it wasn't just her new husband who would be getting to know the real her that wasn't worthy of being here, but America. Jesus. Play it safe, Rosalie, a voice inside urged. Be who they expect. Be happy. Be grateful. Be safe.

And the cameras were still here? They'd seen Edward take his suitcase into the other room. There was obviously not going to be anything intimate taking place here tonight…or possibly ever. What were they waiting for?

He came out, wearing his dress shirt and vest, having shedded his jacket, and they made eye contact. "Are you hungry? We could order something off the menu."

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to eat.

The fake her pushed her toward him. "Thank you, Edward."

"For what?"

"For being you. For not trying to force things with me."

"Thank you for agreeing to start over."

She smiled and wanted to shed this behemoth of a wedding gown. It had been gorgeous, and bulky, and itchy at the collar and back of her neck. She'd taken the pictures, smiled and danced, and it had served its purpose. It was now the costume, she thought bitterly, that painted her as someone who was playing a role…forever the actress. Now, she was ready to let it go and release this second skin, maybe escape it like a cocoon, emerge into a butterfly of sorts. Fly away and be free. Escape. She had the instinct just then, what if after the cameras left, she just escaped? Disappeared and put this whole thing behind her. Daddy would pay off the contract and she would repay him. What the hell was she doing here anyway? Edward seemed a nice guy. He hadn't deserved this.

Her sense of self-preservation was back in full-force, only it now had a new direction. Yes, shed her old skin, on her own. Without the judgment of fifty states watching her.

She yawned, grabbed a change of clothes out of her bag, and announced she was going to bed. He said he would stay up a little bit to read, because that was what he did, surprise. Then, she saw the producer take Edward out of the room as she headed toward their oversized bathroom. She could only guess what he was telling them. Was he saying that he'd married a crazy woman? A drama queen? No…she sensed he was a gentleman and would at least be kind. That was one of the traits she was looking for. A kind man. Handsome. Considerate. From what she could see, Edward was all these things. By miracle, she unzipped the gown, which took a few minutes as her fingers reached and stretched to free herself from the confines of the zipper…until at last, it released her, landing in a big white poof around her calves. What a relief. Able to breathe now, she pulled on the silky pajamas, violet to match her eyes. She removed the veil and smoothed down her hair. She pulled it back into a ponytail…or did she want to wear it down as she always did…no, she didn't want to be the same Rosalie.

After scrubbing off her makeup but only leaving on a hint of the eyeliner and mascara because, despite her new resolution, she couldn't let go of 29 years of conditionings. Becoming the real her was going to be a process. Not wearing makeup was not even an option. Makeup was going to be a mask she wore for as long as she needed it. She deposited the gown in a designated area by the door where they would retrieve it in the morning, and she peeked in on Edward.

He sat up in a small bed, earbuds in his ears and looking at a device. Since they had to remain away from the internet, she assumed he was reading, or maybe listening to music. She wondered for a moment what he was listening to. Maybe music. If so, what kind of music did he enjoy? What else did they have in common?

He turned his attention to her and pulled out his ear buds. "Going to sleep?"

"I am. It's been a long day. I just wanted to say thank you…again. You'll never know what you did for me today."

His brows pulled together. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help."

She went to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night," she told him, sorry now for all the mean thoughts she'd had about him. He was a good man. He didn't deserve this.

That's why she had to do this, she told herself as she made her way back to her suitcase. She slipped into a lightweight dress, grabbed her purse, and decided to contact Daddy to let him know to send for her suitcase. That she couldn't go through with it. That he had been right all along.

Who do you think you are, Rosalie? What makes you think you can just get on a show and marry a total stranger? You are going to make a fool of yourself and disgrace our family, like you did on that other island reality show. Is that what you want?

Rosalie didn't know who she was, now she was coming to terms with that reality. The person she thought she was could pull it off, become the actress and have the fame she felt she deserved. Who did she think she was? She didn't know anymore. She waited until she could no longer see the light from his room.

No, she didn't know the real her. But, as she opened the door ever so slowly and crept out into the hallway in her new costume, she was determined to find out.

A/N:We'll have to see what happens from here. Please stick with me! Thanks to those who've left reviews and for your follows. I love hearing from you. Any predictions?