The Masen Household, Chicago- June 1917

Edwards sixteenth birthday

Edward's sixteenth birthday had arrived with little fanfare or excitement. The grand house was bustling with people, but none of it truly mattered to him. As the evening wore on, Edward found himself caught in a strange tension, standing between the world of childhood and the looming expectations of adulthood. His uncles had been drinking since noon, and the air in the large dining room had thickened with the smoke of cigars and the loud chatter of men who considered themselves far wiser than their years.

Laughter rang through the house, but it wasn't the kind of laughter that made Edward feel welcomed. No, it was rough, coarse—laced with the kind of humor that had always made him uncomfortable in the past. He wasn't exactly fond of his uncles, but tonight, he found himself sitting among them, pulled into the circle of their crude jokes and lewd remarks. It was almost like some rite of passage, a shift in the way he was seen—a sixteen-year-old now part of the "men's talk," whether he liked it or not.

"Edward's sixteen now, eh?" Uncle Frank, his father's eldest brother, said with a mischievous grin. He was the loudest of the bunch, with a face as weathered as an old boot and a voice that carried across the room. His laughter was booming, like an avalanche tumbling down a mountain, a sound that rattled the house's old bones. "About time you start thinkin' about a woman to settle down with. A boy your age should be out lookin' for himself a nice, perky wife to bring back to this family."

The rest of the uncles chuckled, some with more gusto than others, the older ones nodding knowingly as if they'd been waiting for this day. They all seemed to have a very specific image in mind—a girl with soft skin, plump lips, and round hips that could bear children. Edward, trying to play along, gave a tight-lipped grin, his fingers nervously fumbling with the glass in front of him. He hadn't exactly been imagining a "perky wife" anytime soon. His thoughts were more focused on his future—the one that didn't involve spending his days talking about women's bodies, or worse, brothels.

Uncle Frank slapped his knee with a boisterous laugh. "A nice, perky thing with her feet up in the air. Ha! That's the kind of woman you need to look for, lad. Someone who can cook and clean, but also knows how to keep a man satisfied, eh?"

The others joined in with their own lewd suggestions, their voices growing louder with each passing moment. Uncle Frank leaned forward, his face closer to Edward's than was comfortable, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. "Hell, we oughta take you to the proper place, son. A brothel. You're old enough now. We can show you the ropes, teach you how to handle a real woman."

Edward let out a nervous laugh, though his stomach twisted at the thought. His uncles didn't seem to notice, too caught up in their own drunken merriment. He wanted nothing to do with their lewd humor. They were talking about things he didn't understand and didn't care to understand. But how could he get out of it without offending them?

He nodded along, pretending to laugh at the jokes that felt like daggers to his insides. He didn't want to be rude, but the truth was, Edward couldn't care less about finding a wife, at least not yet. Not when there were bigger things on his mind—like the war. Like joining up, making a real difference.

"Come on, lad," his Uncle Harry, the second-oldest, said, winking at him from across the table. "Don't be shy. The world's your oyster. Plenty of time for you to spread your wings. Or some legs!," Uncle Harry barked a drunken laugh as he smacked Uncle Frank on the back. "A man your age should've had his first taste of a woman by now!"

Edward forced another smile, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. He nodded, just enough to show he was listening, and felt his palms growing sweaty. He could barely tolerate their crude banter, and the more they talked about these women he had no interest in, the more he wanted to slip away from it all.

As if on cue, his grandmother, the ever-enthusiastic Mrs. Masen, came bustling into the room. She was a tiny woman, all wrinkles and smiles, and she beamed as she waddled toward Edward with an outstretched arm. She was always fussing over him, cooing about how much he'd grown, how handsome he was becoming. "Oh, Edward, my darling, you look so grown up!" she exclaimed, her voice a high-pitched warble. "My, my, how you've turned into a fine young man! Have you been taking care of yourself? Eating enough? Sleeping well?"

Edward rolled his eyes inwardly but gave her a patient smile, bending down to accept her hug. He loved his grandmother, but at this moment, her doting was more suffocating than anything else. As she pulled away, she turned to his uncles with a knowing look, wagging a finger in the air. "Just make sure you don't let him get mixed up with the wrong sorts of girls. You know how those girls are these days—always looking for a man with money, with a title. They'll be after him like flies on honey. Especially with this face!"

He let out a nervous laugh as she pinched his still rosy cheeks. Dear god.

The uncles grinned, nodding in agreement, as they all shared knowing looks. It was a game to them, teasing Edward about the women that would inevitably come into his life as he grew older, the very same kind of women they'd been talking about.

But Edward wasn't listening to them anymore. His thoughts had drifted once again, toward something far more important. He wondered how it would feel to stand on the front lines, to be a part of something larger than himself. He imagined the camaraderie, the sense of purpose. That was where his heart lay—not in the chatter of his uncles, not in the strange shift of becoming one of the men.

The door to the dining room creaked open, and Edward's gaze was drawn to the new arrival. A man entered with quiet grace, standing taller than most in the room. His suit was perfectly tailored, but the sleeves hung just a bit too long for his slender frame. His pale complexion seemed almost to glow under the dim lighting, and his calm demeanor set him apart from the more animated crowd.

Edward caught his eye, and the man smiled—polite, easy, but carrying a warmth that was hard to ignore. He was already looking at Edward, as though he'd been seeking him out amidst the hustle and bustle.

"Edward Masen, I presume?" The man's voice was deep and calm, with a hint of curiosity, but not overbearing. It wasn't a question of formality but more like a friendly observation.

Edward, who had been minding his own business near the punch bowl, looked up from his drink. He took a moment to size the stranger up. "That's me," he said with a smile, raising his glass slightly. "And you are?"

"Carlisle Cullen," the man said, offering his hand. "I've heard a lot about you. All good, of course."

Edward took his frighteningly coldn hand in a firm shake, his gaze flickering briefly over the man's striking features. His voice was smooth, but there was no arrogance in it—just calm, like the man was used to being around others but never seemed to need the spotlight. "All good, eh? Guess I'll have to live up to the fuss, then."

Carlisle's smile widened slightly. "I'm sure you'll manage just fine." He glanced around the room, as if taking in the scene. "Quite the crowd, isn't it? Birthdays always bring out the most interesting guests."

Edward laughed softly. "Oh, you could say that again. There's enough chatter in here to last a lifetime. Some of it is nice, though," he added with a shrug. "Though, I'd rather be out doing something else."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Anything but listening to my uncles talk about female assets, and 'finding me a proper wife,'" Edward said with a dry chuckle, rolling his eyes. "It's like clockwork every year. They think sixteen means I need to start thinking about it."

Carlisle laughed lightly, clearly amused. "Ah, yes. The joys of being at that age. Suddenly, everyone's expectations shift."

"You've been there?" Edward asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Some time ago," Carlisle replied, his voice taking on a slightly nostalgic tone, though he quickly masked it with a casual smile. "I remember those conversations all too well."

Edward's smile softened. "Yeah, but all I really care about right now is… well, anything other than what's next. I don't know, I guess I'm just not in a hurry to grow up."

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. "There's wisdom in that. Though I imagine it's not always easy when the world around you seems intent on pushing you forward, whether you're ready or not."

"That's it exactly." Edward took a slow sip from his glass, his thoughts drifting for a moment. "Sometimes, it feels like everyone's moving ahead without asking if I'm ready."

Carlisle's expression softened, though he didn't push the conversation deeper. Instead, he shifted the topic with a lighthearted smile. "Well, I'm sure your uncles have a lot of 'good advice' to offer, but I doubt any of it will be as useful as what you'll learn on your own, in your own time."

"I hope so," Edward said, smiling back. "Though they're good for a laugh."

Carlisle raised his glass in a half-toast. "To learning on your own terms, then."

"To that," Edward echoed, clinking his glass lightly with Carlisle's. There was something oddly comforting about the simple exchange—no pressure, no expectations. Just two people talking, a quiet understanding lingering between them.

"So, what's it like, then?" Edward asked after a moment, genuinely curious. "Being a doctor, I mean."

Carlisle chuckled softly, but there was no arrogance in his response. "Well, it has its moments. There are certainly challenges, but I enjoy it. Helping people… it's a rewarding thing."

Edward nodded. "I can see that. Must be a lot of responsibility."

"It's part of the job," Carlisle said, with a slight shrug. "But it's one I'm proud of."

Edward paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Carlisle. There was something… reassuring about his calmness, the way he spoke without urgency, but still with a quiet strength. He liked him.

"You seem pretty calm for a man who's surrounded by a bunch of loud-mouthed uncles and gossiping grandmothers," Edward said with a small laugh.

Carlisle's eyes twinkled. "I suppose I've gotten used to it."

"Well, I guess we'll have to get used to each other then," Edward said, tilting his head slightly. "I'm sure you'll be around for more than just today."

Carlisle smiled, a glint of humor in his eyes. "I imagine so."

Neither of them knew the weight of those words, nor how true they'd become, but for now, it was simply a pleasant exchange between two men, a casual conversation at a birthday party—no premonitions, no future in the air.