Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, nor do I own any song lyrics in this fanfic. No copyright infringement is intended.

Stop your crying, Baby, it's a sign of the times

We got to get away

We got to get away

"This has got to be one of my favorite songs," I murmur quietly, as if I don't want to interrupt the radio. There's a warm, melodic chuckle that comes from the driver's seat. The car stops at a red light, just in time for the end of the song, where my best friend joins in, belting out the lyrics.

"We got to, we got to, away! We got to, we got to, away! We got to, we got to, away!"

The light turns green, and we start to move forward, but I am still stunned into silence for a few moments, my eyes wide as I take him in, watching as he inhales deeply, his lungs protesting slightly at the suddenness of his passionate singing without properly warming up. "I don't think I'll ever get used to you doing that," I say, shaking my head.

"Oh, sure you will. You'll be tired of the random bursting into song in no time," he laughs again. We pull up to another red light and the driver in the car next to us does a double take when she realizes who is behind the wheel of the silver Volvo. Edward turns to her, no doubt flashing his stunning smile and waving. I watch in mild amusement as the woman, who must be at least twice our age, begins to scream, her hands flailing about on either side of her head.

The thing is, I know I'll never get used to Edward being the amazing person that he is. I'll never get used to his amazing smile and never ending kindness he shows everyone. I'll never grow used to the goosebumps that spread along my skin hearing him sing or the way my heart starts to beat faster when he's nearby. However, I have gotten used to the knowledge that I'll only ever be a friend to him.

My breath catches as she suddenly picks up her phone, aiming it at us. I quickly duck my head, letting my hair fall forward, obscuring my face from view. We didn't need my face next to his in the tabloids.

More so, his manager didn't need my face next to his in the tabloids.

Edward turns his head when the light changes again, his smile fading as a sigh falls from his lips. "I'm sorry, Bella."

I shake my head. "Don't be. I get it." I flash back to several months ago, when Edward's new single was one of the most streamed songs of the week.

You can't be seen with him. It won't be good for his image if he looks taken.

He's not taken though! I'm just a friend-

It won't look like that in the pictures. You can't be seen with each other. Understood?

Since that emergency meeting, Edward and I have ended our dinner and a movie friend dates, instead opting to spend the evening at one of our places eating cold takeout when he could get away from recording. We no longer meet at the gym or go on our morning jogs by the riverside.

I hated his manager, who seemed far more concerned with Edward's image than the man himself. Tour was coming up soon- tomorrow- his first really big one following the release of his album tonight, and James had him on such a strict schedule that this was the first time he's had a moment to himself.

And he chose to spend it with me. As long as I agreed to get takeout for lunch at a place of his choosing.

Edward's hand sneaks into the crinkly paper bag, pulling out several fries and shoving them into his mouth, moaning obscenely in pleasure. I can't help the chuckle that breaks through.

"Shut it, Swan," he manages through a mouthful of deep fried potatoes. "This is the first time in three months I've been able to eat anything remotely unhealthy."

"Aw," I croon. "Is poor Eddie having trouble with his diet?"

"James insists on tofu! I hate tofu," he makes a gagging noise before shoving more fries in his mouth. I sigh in sympathy, grabbing the container of fries from the bag, holding it between us on the console, making it easier for him to grab his food.

It was my carton of fries, but I didn't dare point out that he had already scarfed his down before we were even halfway through town.

We pull into the parking lot of his hotel, parking in a reserved covered garage and taking a private elevator to one of the top floors. The hallway is empty as we walk down the plush carpet, and we reach his room without being stopped.

The room is one of the grand suites, complete with a small living space containing a comfortable couch, large flat screen TV, and a small, yet open and well equipped kitchen with an island that also doubled as a dining table. On the left was a door that led to a spacious room with a king sized bed, on the right was another door, a bathroom that was as large as my living room back at my apartment. There were few things of Edward's left out, reminding me that he was going to be leaving for tour tomorrow.

"Are you ready to fly out tomorrow?" I ask him through a mouthful of my half eaten burger, plopping onto the overstuffed couch so gracelessly I almost bounce off of the cushion and onto the floor.

"Nearly," Edward replies, chuckling at my clumsiness. His eyes cast down, suddenly looking bashful. "I really just need to pack one last thing."

"Well, you'd better get on that, then," I chuckle. "You wouldn't want to forget and leave it behind."

My laughter subsides when Edward takes a seat next to me, a silver gift bag clutched delicately between his hands. He waits for me to finish the last bite of my food before he places the bag in my lap. "It would be impossible to forget," he murmurs so softly I'm not sure I was meant to hear it.

I tug the tissue paper from the bag, finding a tour hoodie at the top. Below that was the two different styles of his tour t-shirts. I'm about to thank him when I see the papers at the bottom of the bag. A tour itinerary, tickets, and a guest VIP badge on an I love Edward lanyard. "Oh, Edward," I manage to breathe out. "I can't-"

"I spoke to Mrs. Cope, she is more than fine with you taking the time off of work," he blurts, already knowing what my next words were. Mrs. Cope was a sweet older lady that managed the book store I worked at, and I loved my job. I wouldn't have been able to just up and leave her on such short notice.

"I'm not packed!" I gasp, my mind running through what clothes I had that were clean, what personal belongings I would want to take.

Edward smiles. "Esme is at your apartment packing up as we speak," he hands me his phone, telling me to text his sister any specifics I wanted with me. I write a small list, adding in my tablet when I looked at the dates and locations, realizing that there was going to be a lot of time travelling on the road.

"And James is okay with me coming along?" I ask. I knew I wasn't his favorite person. I wasn't someone up and coming, I didn't have much money. I wasn't going to build up Edward's rapidly growing fame. I could potentially steal his spotlight, making wild accusations, spilling too much information to the press. I could use his client to gain my own fifteen minutes of fame. I'd abandon the close friendship I had made with this man for money, according to James.

Edward shrugs, as if this isn't going to blow up into another loud argument with his manager over me. Again. "It's my tour, it's my music, and I want my best friend to come with me. He will get over it."

Best friend.

I didn't think James would get over it, but I wasn't going to keep arguing. I wanted to go. I had missed Edward in the last three months. Actually, I've missed him since he stared climbing the charts and James had become his manager and I couldn't spend as much time with him.

Before, Edward had been my neighbor in my apartment complex for nearly a year. We first got to know each other through the thin living room walls, where I first hear him singing. Soon we were going out for coffee, and then we were spending evenings together, discussing possible lyrics to songs he was writing. It was impossible not to fall for him, but it was clear that he was destined for amazing things.

I was not an amazing thing, my mother made sure to drill it into me growing up.

He was offered a record deal and he hired James as his manager, who made sure to let me know early on how little he thought of me.

I was plain. Brown hair. Brown eyes. I wasn't tall and I wasn't shapely enough to make it in the celebrity world. I couldn't act, my singing wasn't all that great, and I was too awkward to model. Not to mention that I was way too timid to survive in the celebrity pool. I wasn't special. I wasn't exciting.

And I was never going to be more than a friend to Edward Cullen.

Edward jumped to my defense every time James said something condescending about me around him, and was adamant about keeping me in his life when James suggested cutting me out. He quickly made the decision to simply keep James and I as separate as possible.

James, being Edward's manager, was going to be travelling with the band. This nationwide tour was certainly going to be interesting.

A/N: Ooookay… so I've gotten inspiration for another fanfic (yay!) I ran across Harry Styles' song Sign of the Times a few days ago and this nagging little feeling just wouldn't leave me alone. I followed it into a Harry Styles music binge, listening and relistening to several of his songs as a story began to build itself up in my mind. (I'm not going to make Edward into a fictional Harry, I am just borrowing some of his songs to use as Edward's.)

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I will do my best to upload every week, but I can't make any promises as I work full time, have a farm to take care of, and need to make time somewhere for family and friends.