First and foremost, the legal stuff!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR ANY AFFILIATED TRADEMARKS! THESE ARE THE PROPERTY OF STEPHENIE MEYER!

With that disclaimer, let's hope I don't get sued! laughs

I will warn you right off, if you don't like long chapters, please, be kind. Most of the other chapters will be shorter. I kind of mashed two chapters into one because I didn't know if you would understand what was going on from just the first chapter.

With that being said, enjoy the story!

Chapter One

BPOV

It was clear fairly early that I was not going to enjoy this job.

My question to God is why did I take it?

I could have quit. I could have quit after the announcement when I had the 'bad feeling'. I could have quit after I was publicly ridiculed. I could have quit after I read the script. I could have quit…but I thought I would like this project. I thought I could work through this.

I was wrong.

I had been slaving away as Broadway's Princess. I had been making twenty grand a month at twenty-two. People loved me. People paid to see me. Tourists flocked from the netherworlds similar to the place I grew up to meet me.

I might as well have been real, honest to God royalty.

And then this happened. Then I decided that getting cast as Catherine Earnshaw in the newest make of Wuthering Heights was going to boost my career. And, not just that, I was a huge fan of the script. I was a huge fan of the book. I was a huge fan of everything Wuthering Heights. With this script staying loyal to the book, I had the chance of making Catherine exactly as she was in my mind since I read the novel as a teenager.

I had the chance of living my dream of bringing her to life.

I had forsaken money, the stage, and roles that I would have killed for as a teenager…

And all for what?

I have been publicly ridiculed, insulted, abused, battered…

And all because I am a stage actress.

And we haven't even started filming yet.

So, now, here I sit at the 'getting to know you' party, as we call them on Broadway. All of the cast and crew are together, celebrating the fact that blocking and reading starts tomorrow. In the Broadway world, that also means that all of us are all too wasted in the morning to actually shrug on anything in the way of clothes except sweats and other forms of loose clothing. We don't bother with glam the night after meaning half of us are in glasses that look like they came out of the 'geeks-r-us' magazine…we do have the occasional designer brand, though.

In the Hollywood world, apparently they can afford to rent out an entire nightclub, complete with the staff. That means we've got drink flowing more freely here. Bring it on. I do not want to be on the dance floor, I do not want to be close to any of these people. I do not want to be here period.

I feel like I'm going to vomit.

I can't believe I'm wearing this dress. It's too tight, too short, shows too much of my ample chest, is falling too far off of my shoulders.

And I'm only rambling because I am drunk off my ass.

I've found that I feel nothing now. I could go up to that vile man and tell him he's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. I couldn't care less that I had just spilled my true feelings for him.

So, how did I get here?

How did I get here so high on alcohol that I'm soaring, so pissed off with a man that I plowed through six strawberry daiquiris - knowing full well their effects - so irrevocably attracted to some jerk that I couldn't care less that I am going to have a hangover tomorrow?

I lean my head into my forearms, resting my forehead on the sore muscles. I close my eyes and try to remember precisely what happened four months ago that made me lose all sense of moral right and wrong, but the memories are blurry, faded, too hard to grasp.

And then I feel the light grip of Alice's small hand on my shoulder and I remember every single detail, because I blame it all on her.

--

Four months ago

I'm sitting in my dressing room. The entire room is pink, though I didn't intend it to be. I can only assume that someone else, the actress before me, painted the walls. I went with the pink theme, covering everything in pink sequined fabric and draping the mirror with sparkling pink curtains.

The show went well tonight, but it was my last show. This is upsetting. I honestly threw myself into the role of Abigail to the point that she became my life. I'm not sure if I enjoyed the show now. I realize that I now have nothing to do with my life because I was so wrapped up with the role. It ended too soon for me to even realize that the run was ending.

I haven't auditioned for anything new. In my defense, I had been coming to rehearsals during most of the week, so I hadn't had time to it. Alice hadn't informed me of anything, either, so I assumed that, when she found an audition she deemed worthy, she would inform me that I needed to miss work that day. There would also be a number of shopping trips involved before the audition, or there usually were, so, again, I assumed that I would know.

The soft knock on my dressing room door jars me from my thoughts. I jump from my chair, a pink concoction from one of Alice's shopping trips, knocking the chair over, and falling along side it with a loud 'thud'.

The door clicks open, so I assume that the person on the other side heard my fall. I look up to see Alice Bradon, my roommate, agent, personal assistant and personal shopper, smiling as wide as a Cheshire cat. The nerve of the pixie! She stands there in all of her glory, bright red Bollywood tunic over her acid wash jeans, deep black cropped hair spiky in every direction, looking like a goddess sent straight from Zeus. She is thin to the extreme. Beautiful.

Damn the pixie.

And I am on the floor, more or less nude, tangled in my short, black slip and red and black bra, long, plain brown hair flying in every direction. Where is the justice in the world? What did I do to deserve this…this complete plainness when everyone else gets to look Heaven sent?

Then, in the door, walks Emmett McCarthy. Emmett, the big, burly man who was formerly the bouncer of a nightclub…or so I've heard. I don't really remember much of meeting him. I think I was drunk then, too.

Anyhow, in short, Emmett is huge, but not in a threatening way. Well, not any more. After getting acquainted with him, he's like the teddy bear that can hug you back. He's like my big brother. His curly, black hair is a shade lighter than Alice's. I thank God their not related. The contrast would be too much for me to handle.

Emmett looks at me on the floor and laughs. "Fall again, Bells? Don't tell me you've already had a couple of drinks!" He says it in a joking way, but I know he's serious.

"No, Emmett," I say, simply, rolling out from under the chair and righting myself. "I am completely sober. I fall even when I'm sober."

Emmett laughs at me once more. "I think you hurt yourself worse sober!"

Alice shakes her head and clicks her tongue, studying me. I know the look she's giving me. It says that I look horrible. I am completely helpless to do anything but look back at her. "What?" I ask, biting the corner of my lips.

"You look horrible, Bella!" Alice, quickly rushes over to me and hugs me. This is where she makes me have more self-pity than I will ever have in my life. I stand with my arms up as though I were trying to defend myself, palms pressed flat against the air and Alice's arms are thrown around my upper arms, pinning my arms to my side.

"Geez, thanks, Alice. I love you, too!" I mutter as she backs away from me, studying me. She's got on very little make-up meaning she probably had a date tonight. Wonder who it was this time. I'm hoping it was Jasper. I liked Jasper. He would be good for her.

Alice looks at me seriously. "I'm sorry, Bella, but look at yourself!" She pulls me around to face my mirror. That's when I see what she's talking about. Emmett just shakes his head and, out of the corner of my eye, I see him make himself comfortable of the horrible couch that someone put in my dressing room.

I gaze intently at the woman in the mirror. Her make-up is smeared under her eyes where she rubbed off the remnants of it. She looks like she had been crying, her eyes red and puffy. She has thick mascara on still, though she had tried to scrub it off.

Alice was right. I didn't just look horrible; I looked pathetic. I will not need mascara on for days. If I'm lucky, I might be able to scrub most of it off tomorrow morning. I mouth 'wow' in the mirror.

"See?" Alice asks, very seriously.

It is at this point I catch on that something is being planned. There is some scheme behind this. Emmett never comes to see me at work. Something was wrong here. I narrow my eyes at her. "What is it, who is it with, why do you want me to do it and no!" I say, blurring the three separate sentences into one.

"But, Bella!" Alice whines. We have skipped, like, three steps in the degrees of manipulation. Alice knows I hate it when she whines, so I'll do whatever she wants. I surmise, if I don't, Alice has Emmett paid. "You don't even know what it is!"

I look at Emmett, then to the door which he is standing right next to. My narrow gaze falls on him again. He smiles at me. "Sorry, Bells. I can't tell you." I begin sizing him up for a fight, knowing I'll lose.

I sigh in defeat, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath. "What is it?" I ask through another sigh, eyes still closed.

"Gosh, Bella!" Alice giggles. "You act like we might take you out to slaughter you!"

You might, I think to myself.

Emmett's booming laugh is what I hear next. I'm not opening my eyes until I know that I will be calm enough not to crack Alice over the head. I'm also mentally looking for a place to put the body.

"Bella!" I nod. "Open your eyes!" Alice whines. I open them to form slits, like a snake's eyes. She shakes her head, as though she's tired of my pouting. Tired of my pouting? How can she get away with pouting and whining and I'm getting lynched over it?

"Remember that interview you gave a couple months ago?" Alice is all smiles now.

I groaned. "Which interview, Alice? I remember several interviews. Most of them involve me pretending that I am not having a hang over or falling into something at a television station. You've forced me on several interviews, Alice. I don't remember when they all were!"

Alice laughs. "You'll remember this one! It was the one with Entertainment Tonight! Remember?"

How could I forget that one!

--

Six months ago

This was, surprisingly, one of my best interviews, but it came at the worst time in my life. This was back when this movie was still in talks. Alice drug me to the interview like I was an unruly toddler. We were there early and, for one of the few times since I became legal, I was sober. Completely. As in I hadn't had a drink in the past twenty-four hours.

Lauren Mallory was there later than we were. Her myriad of assistants, who deserve much more pay than they get, I'm sure, were all, more or less, cowering from her presence. From the moment she walked in the door she was ranting and raving. Sure, she was one of the entertainment industries best up-and-coming reporters, but, sweet Jesus, I think she was a bigger diva than I am!

I would have applauded her if Alice and I hadn't been standing off to the side ridiculing her.

I realized that she had her hair cut the moment she walked in the building, but to hear the entire story as she screamed at her assistants was hilarity in itself. Apparently, her stylist had 'slipped' the scissors. If she acted like this to her stylist, I can see why. I would slip the scissors, too. After this was done, Lauren insisted she have her hair cut to match that length. Sadly, that didn't work out too well and her hair ended up being cut at an angle. Apparently she had spent the past hour in some chincy upper East Side salon having her entire hair cut with a razor all over. The stylist said it was 'in the vogue.'

Yeah…maybe on a model in Vogue magazine, but, on Lauren Mallory, it looked pretty bad.

Karma's a bitch, I guess.

As she screams about either her hair or her dog or her boyfriend or something else that no one really cares about, Alice and I discuss the interview. Lauren is known for ripping people to shreds, putting their careers on a permanent hold, especially in Hollywood. And me, little old stage actress me, that could be lethal.

I glare at Lauren from the other side of the room, a vicious smirk on my face. I actually dressed up for this interview. White button-up blouse, jeans, a lacy camisole beneath the blouse, showing in the window created by the open buttons…I liked the way I looked. Add in the make-up Alice threw on me and the way that my hair somehow laid the right way and I felt pretty good about myself!

I have one of my stilettos against the wall, my arms crossed under my chest. "What do you think she's going to hammer me for today?"

Alice responds immediately, staring impatiently at Lauren as she orders her assistants around. "Alcohol problem."

I shoot Alice a look. I had been announced as Abby in the show a couple weeks ago, but I had come out of rehab a month ago. "Just because I publicly admitted to being an alcoholic and let cameras of the Broadway tabloids document my rehab doesn't mean everyone hates me because of it," I snap.

Alice shrugs, staring blankly at Lauren and her crew now. "I'm just saying," she says, innocently defensive. "People believed you were the last good thing about glitz, glamour, fame, and fortune. Now that they know that you are only human and not this angel they thought you were, you are going to get ripped to shreds at every opportunity."

I didn't want to listen to Alice, but I knew I should.

As soon as the crew sets up, Lauren is all smiles, fearing the camera might catch her, I suppose. She is quite cordial in the interview and, after a grueling question and answer session which left me mentally drained as to how I was going to think on my toes, she is starting to wrap up the interview.

"So," she says in her nasally voice. I have learned from the past hour that her and 'so' are bad things. Every time she says 'so', I'm going to get pumped for information. I figured that out a long time ago. If I act the wrong way about it people will think I'm hiding something, but if I act too carelessly, I will slip up like I always do. I try very hard not to hold my breath. "What can you tell us about future projects? How about dream roles? What is a role that you would be more than willing to play?"

I fear that people will laugh at me for what is about to come out of my mouth, but I feel like saying it. "Catherine Earnshaw, from Wuthering Heights. I would absolutely love portraying her character. She's one of the few women in literature that is human rather than characteristically good or bad. She has flaws…human flaws. I enjoy her character."

Lauren Mallory's eyes begin to sparkle like I have given her the biggest scoop of the century. "Talks are in place for a new adaptation of Wuthering Heights. Are you coined to play the leading lady?" She asks with an evil smile.

I laugh. "Of course not! I would love to, but I doubt very much if they would want me to play the role."

"And if they asked you?" Lauren seems disappointed that I have nothing to offer.

I laugh again at her insistence. "Sure. Why not? Bring it on. I would love to."

The interview was over, Alice let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. I tensed up. I felt like I had just made a horrible mistake, but I don't know what I might have said that was such a bad thing. Catherine wasn't a bad choice…oh, God…I just gave the entire nation my soul on television!

--

Four months ago

"What about it?" I raise an eyebrow.

Alice laughs. "I got a phone call today from a special person!"

I feign interest, and then I decide to become a smart alek. "Holy Crow! My father actually called and I wasn't home?!" I ask the question, making my eyes wide and looking frightened.

Alice rolls her eyes. "Ha ha. Very funny." Her voice sounds very dry. She goes up to my mirror and begins to pull down the pink curtains, folding them neatly. "You know very well your father wouldn't pick up the phone to save his life."

I had to hold back a laugh at that one. That was not necessarily true. He was the police chief of Forks. Poor Podunk town needed its chief on call twenty-four seven…as well as its other two officers. I immediately try to derail the thought. "Anyhow, who called me, Alice? Lauren Mallory? Or does one of the camera guys want a date and you're so into scheming that you said I'd do it?"

Alice rolls her eyes. She turns to Emmett in defeat. "Emmett, why don't you tell her? She won't believe me."

"I won't believe what?"

Emmett chuckles. "Rosalie Hale called for you, Bells," he says with a smile. I think my face must be blank. "The movie director?" Again, more blankness. "Geez! Do you not get out of your apartment?"

I look at him with the same blank expression. "Actually, no. I prefer the life of a recluse, unless there is something in of value for me to actually step into the sunlight."

Alice makes a face at me. She looks annoyed. Emmett picks up on this and actually looks frightened for half a second. "She's directing Wuthering Heights in Hollywood." I nod to him. He throws his hands up in the air in defeat. "As in you and Hollywood," I raise an eyebrow. "As in you've got the part of Catherine in Wuthering Heights! You're smart! Could you not put two and two together? I'm more dense than you are and I figured it out from Alice's squealing!" Emmett is practically yelling at.

I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry. It must be all of the alcohol killing my brain cells. You…" I suddenly stop. "Wait…did you just say I got a job I didn't audition for?"

Emmett nods enthusiastically. "In Hollywood!" He emphasizes this as though I didn't know that. "With Rosalie Hale!"

I scoff at this. "He's got a crush on the director?" I ask this question of Alice as though I didn't already know. Alice nods, solemnly, as though Emmett signed his own death contract. "So…am I going?" I ask Alice.

Alice laughs. "You have to ask?"

Yes, sir. The warning bells are screaming in my head.

What did I just get myself into?

Good, bad, what do you think? I will warn you that, due to previous stories getting no feedback, I'll be a bit mean with this story, but there is something in it for you guys, too!

I will only update after I get a few reviews. I'm not talking like twenty or anything ungodly. But, to the people who review, I will also send a quote from the next chapter so that you can keep guessing as to what might be happening! ((In other words, if you don't review, you might not get Edward's appearance in the next chapter. Sorry if that sounds harsh, but I would enjoy feedback, negative or positive.))

I hope you enjoyed it and please don't lynch me for wanting a few reviews! ducks

Tiger