So, I love every single person who reads this and reviews :) especially randa111, AngieEllaCullen, LeXXXieee, chrisso, and islealice. The five reviews you left forced me into writing more even when I wasn't sure what I wanted to happen. And to everyone who reads this and doesn't review, I love you just a tad bit less ;) I hope this chapter makes at least a little sense because I felt really crazy and out of it while writing.

This chapter, to warn you, is a tad crazy and out there. You might not understand it at first, but I hope it will all come together when you finish reading it. I hope it will surprise you and I'm totally open to answering any questions you might have because I'm sure you'll have plenty. Anddd I tried to post a link in this thingy, but FanFiction won't let me. Waaaah. So, I'll just leave you with this piece of advice: you might need to look up some 1920s slang to understand this chapter ;)

"Edward, wake up," a voice whispered, softly, in my ear. I felt a gentle nudge on the side of my arm. "Edward."

I groaned, as I slowly opened my eyes, instantly rubbing them with my fists. I felt terrible, worse than terrible, as if I had been mercilessly stabbed several times in the chest and then some. I pressed my hand to my head, closing my eyes again, trying to push the pain away.

"You okay?" the voice asked, clearly concerned.

I took a deep breath in, turning to face the voice with a scowl. "Does it look like everything is Jake?"

Jasper allowed his eyes to drift from the road towards me, raising an eyebrow, with a mischievous grin crossing his face. "If you ask me, you were asking for it."

"Nobody is asking you." I rolled my eyes, shifting them towards the car window. I couldn't help but smile as I took in Chicago; all of the pain coursing through my body fluttered away. We flew past the large, grey buildings that my father hoped I would work in one day. Newsies stood on street corners, shouting the latest news at the top of their lungs with newspapers clenched in their fists. Men in suits and fedoras weaved effortlessly through the crowds of people, briefcases and the world in their hands. Women walked, elegantly, on the sidewalks with newfound confidence.

"You know what would make you happier?"

My eyebrows furrowed, wondering if I wanted to know. I knew I didn't; Jasper's opinions on my life were rarely ever realistic and even less so helpful, but I knew that I would hear what he had to say, regardless. I took a deep breath, calming myself and asked, "What?"

Jasper made a sharp right turn, causing me to fall against the window onto my bruised side, as he answered, simply, "A doll."

I scoffed as I kept my eyes focused on the city outside of the window and gently clutched my injured side. Of course, Jasper would suggest a woman of all things to me. He didn't have any problems with women or getting them; he was a pilot for God's sake. If that didn't explain it, his good looks, charm, and wealth did. I, on the other hand, was awkward, moody, and volatile around not only women, but people in general. Well, everyone, except for one person.

As if he had read my thoughts, Jasper added, "And not that mystery woman of yours. Drop her."

My mystery woman, as Jasper liked to call her, was a young woman that I had admired from afar at the bar that I worked at. She was beautiful, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen before, in her flapper dress with her hair swept into a low bun. She was elegant, classy, and sophisticated, a woman of only my brightest dreams.

I sighed, allowing my forehead to fall against the window, and instantly regretted it. I gazed at my reflection in the side mirror, revealing several cuts and bruises scattered across my forehead and face.

"She isn't any good for you, Edward." Jasper turned towards me, his eyes running over the cuts and bruises on my face. The troubled expression on his usually carefree face looked strange and unfamiliar to me.

"No," I snapped, banging my head against the window, unhappily. I groaned as I cradled my head with my hands, nursing a reopened wound on my forehead. I knew I had never had a real conversation with her but I knew, in my heart, that she was my soulmate, the one for me. And I knew that Jasper, although he was my closest friend and the person who knew me best, didn't understand this. He moved around from woman to woman to woman with no feelings attached while I had never spoken more than pleasantries with a woman. "She is perfect."

I could tell Jasper was looking at me out of the corner of his eyes. Sometimes, I swear he could tell exactly what I was feeling. I hoped, for once, he couldn't tell; I didn't want him to know how vulnerable I was when it came to her. I didn't want him to know how I loved her so much. I didn't want him to know; it was private, personal even.

"Edward," Jasper started, uneasily, as if he were tip toeing on thin ice. He paused for a moment, trying to choose the right words. "I know you feel…strongly about her, but you could have been killed."

He opened his mouth to continue when I placed my hand in the air, signaling that I didn't want to hear what he had to say. I knew I had already told myself everything and more, both negative and positive, about my situation with her. "I know it's hard for you to understand Jasper, but…"

"No, Edward, you don't understand. I'm on the level." He placed his hand on my shoulder, firmly, causing me to wince. "Look at the pain you're in."

I shook my head, closing my eyes, tightly as I started to remember. Punch to the stomach. Punch to the face, again and again and again and again. My hands covered my face in defense. I heard screams. When I dared to open my eyes, there was blood, everywhere.

Jasper sighed as he turned to face the road again. "She may not be bad news, but her gangster of a boyfriend is."

"You know who he is?" I asked, my throat suddenly dry. I closed my eyes, again, as his face flashed in my mind. He had long, stringy blonde hair, ice cold, blue eyes, and a fierce growl suppressed on his sharp, angular face. He was the most terrifying man I had ever seen.

"Yes, you do, too." Jasper turned to the right, making sure to make a smooth, slow turn. With his right hand, he grabbed a newspaper and held it up to my face. On the front page, his face was glaring at me underneath huge, bold letters that read: Gangster James Wanted; his ice cold eyes sent shivers throughout my body even in the picture of a newspaper.

I snatched the paper out of his hands, looking over the article in disbelief. James was wanted for charges of murder, assault, theft, and selling alcohol. "She is dating James?"

Jasper nodded as he pressed lightly on the gas pedal. "Now you're on the trolley."

I sighed. I knew he was right even if I didn't want to believe he was.

The car was filled with silence for several moments; I expected to Jasper to break it any moment. There wasn't anything he hated more than awkward silence.

"Or," Jasper continued, taking in the fact that I didn't like where the conversation veered, "you could quit that job of yours."

I chuckled, shaking my head from side to side. "Not everyone can fly planes for a living, Jasper."

"That is for damn sure." Jasper nodded his head in agreement. He, along with everyone else in our generation, believed that pilots were an elite group of smart and attractive young men. He laughed aloud, probably at the thought of me flying an airplane, throwing his head back, bringing me back to reality. Some friend he was.

"Watch the road," I snapped, glaring at him. I slumped lower in my seat, pouting, as I watched the buildings pass outside of the car window. "Stop, stop."

Without any hesitation, Jasper slammed on the breaks and looked towards me in confusion. I rolled my eyes as I opened the car door and stepped out. "This is my stop."

"Oh, is it?" Jasper asked, mockingly, a large grin crossing his face. His eyes started to follow a petite, young woman fluttering across the street behind me.

I huffed, annoyed that he couldn't give me his full attention for more than a minute. I slammed the car door with a snarl and stomped away. "You know, you're going to cause a car accident one day."

"Edward."

I closed my eyes, clenching my fists, and swiveled back around. "What!"

"Don't take any wooden nickels." His face was solemn for a moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, thanks for that, Jasper," I mumbled, sarcastically, waving him away with a flick of my hand.

"Attaboy." He tipped his fedora at me, his blue eyes sparkling. "Now, beat it."

"A Cosmopolitan, please," a familiar voice cooed in my ear.

I blinked, several times, before I looked in the direction of the seductive voice. I held back a grimace as I took in the woman standing in front of me: tall, blonde, and gorgeous dressed in a flawlessly designed, skin tight, fire engine red dress. I sighed with a fake smile spreading across my face as I greeted her, "Hello, Tanya."

"Edward, always nice to see you." She smiled, widely, revealing her perfect, white teeth as she slithered towards the bar. She leaned over it, slowly, placing her hand firmly on mine. Her bright blue eyes locked onto mine.

I cleared my throat, uncomfortably, as I loosened my tie, looped around my neck, with my free hand. I choked on my words several times before I had the ability to finally ask, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Tanya shrugged, allowing her blue eyes to wander the club. Her eyes widened as she turned away from me, focusing her gaze on the entrance. "Oh, look who's here."

Without a thought, my eyes floated across the club, past the bar, past Tanya, past the dance floor, to the entrance where a woman, a beautiful woman was standing, surrounded by a horde of young men. I suppressed a gasp as I realized that it was my mystery woman. She was even more beautiful than I remembered.

Her face was pale, yet luminescent, glowing in the dim lights of the bar. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown, giving her an air of mystery and intrigue. Her lips were smothered in a deep, red lipstick, making her simply irresistible. Her luscious, dark brown hair was loosely curled around her face.

I closed my eyes, once again, as I flashed back to that night. Her beautiful face hovering over me. Her soft voice asked me if I was okay. Her hand caressed my face, softly. Her elbow grabbed by James, dragging her away.

"Who is that?" I heard my voice ask, barely above a whisper.

I could feel Tanya's eyes concentrated on me, her brows furrowed in confusion, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, the beautiful woman. Her voice was uneasy as she answered, "Her name is Bella, Bella Swan."

When I didn't say anything, my eyes still locked on…Bella, Tanya went on, sounding a little uncomfortable, "She is an actress in the talkies."

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. Since the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the girl for me, my one and only soulmate. I loved her, with every fiber of my being, with every bone in my body, with all of my heart. I knew it from that moment and onward.

Now, if only I could talk to her.

Tanya, still starring at me uneasily, backed away from the bar, her confident smile snatched from her face. "Bye, Edward."

For the rest of the night, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I spilled a total of nine drinks and dropped four glasses, thirteen more mistakes than I had ever made in my entire bartending career. I couldn't help it, though; she consumed every part of me.

"Evening, Edward."

My head turned, hesitantly, away from Bella, who was sitting at a booth with three men in trench coats and fedoras, to face Jasper, who was standing at the end of the bar with a grin plastered on his face.

I rolled my eyes at him as I headed towards him, grabbing his favorite alcoholic drink on the way. I pulled a glass out from underneath the bar, set it down, and poured the Jack Daniels into the glass.

"Great service," Jasper complimented me with a large smile. "I didn't even have to ask this time." He raised his glass to me and downed it, throwing his head back, quickly.

"She is here tonight," I found myself whispering, my eyes roving across the room to Bella, once again. I bit my lip, nervously, as if I were anticipating a look of acknowledgement from her or more like, hoping for.

Jasper widened his eyes in confusion, then nodded his head as he finally understood. "Oh, your mystery woman? Where?"

"Over there, in the booth." I nodded my head towards her, not letting my eyes leave her flawless face.

Without any hesitation, Jasper's head swiveled in her direction, nodding almost immediately. "That's Bella Swan. She is in the talkies."

I groaned; of course, Jasper would know who she was. His parents were active participants in the film industry; his father was a critically acclaimed director and his mother a beautiful actress. I shook my head at my stupidity.

"She has been to the house a couple of times." Jasper pushed his glass towards me, again, signaling that he wanted more to drink.

I snatched it with my hand, pouring some more Jack Daniels in it, eager to hear more of my mystery woman, my Bella. "What is she like?"

"She's a doll." Jasper nodded before throwing his head back again, causing the Jack to disappear. He pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, his secret compartment for them, and stuck one in his mouth. "Anyone have a lighter?"

"I do," an airy voice sang out.

I smiled as soon as I recognized the voice and held my arms wide open, bracing myself for the hug I knew was coming. "Evening, Alice."

"Evening, Edward," Alice greeted me with a toothy grin, leaping into my arms over the bar. She placed a peck on each of my cheeks. "Miss me?"

"Always do." I chuckled as my hands settled on the bar, restlessly. "So, how was Europe, Alice?"

She gleamed as soon as the word "Europe" slipped out of my mouth. With ease, she hopped onto the bar stool, placing her elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand. I almost regretted asking Alice, but she always listened to me and, well, I had missed her. She was the sister (and psychiatrist) I never had and losing her to Europe for a summer was painful.

"Simply wonderful," she belted out, happily, her smile never leaving her face. She turned to Jasper, lighter in hand, and offered it to him before continuing, "It was ab-so-lute-ly stunning."

"It is gorgeous this time of year," Jasper jumped in, unable to take his eyes off of Alice. He tapped the tip of his cigarette on the bar, anxiously; it was an annoying habit of his when he was nervous and a woman hadn't been the cause of it since our prepubescent days.

Alice eyed him, eyebrow raised. "You've been to Europe?"

"Plenty of times." Jasper took a puff of his cigarette, closing his eyes. He held out a hand to Alice, putting his most charming smile on. "I'm Jasper Whitlock."

"Alice Brandon." She took his hand, firmly, and shook it with a small smile pressed on her face. I couldn't tell whether she approved or disapproved of him, yet. I was sure I would get an earful from her later, either way. "I'm a singer here."

Jasper shrugged, trying to act unimpressed, even though I knew he was anything but. The only women he spent more than one night with were performers or entertainers of sorts. He paused, trying to make his voice nonchalant. "I'm a pilot."

Alice smiled, slyly, as she grabbed a glass of a drink that I had mixed for her. She wanted me to keep her guessing with my drinks and I had risen to the challenge.

"I call that one 'The Alice'", I answered the curious look on her face with a smile.

She raised her glass to me. "Best one yet, Edward."

Jasper watched Alice strut across the room, his jaw dropping to the floor in awe. He was thoroughly transfixed by her; I hadn't seen him drool over a gal since grade school. "What a smarty. Who was that?"

"Alice," I answered, simply, as I started to mix a drink for a man down the bar.

"I know that." Jasper rolled his eyes as he started to tap his cigarette tip on the bar, rapidly. "Why haven't you introduced us before?"

I shrugged as I slid the glass down the bar. "I didn't think she was your…type."

"Woman is my type, Edward." Jasper sighed, holding his head in his hand. He played with his glass sitting on the wooden bar, distracted.

"Well, at least, you can talk to her." I sighed as I started to focus on Bella, once again. She was still sitting in a booth, surrounded by men in trench coats. Although she was surrounded by so many people, she looked so sad, so lonely.

"Are the two of you still whining about your lady problems?"

Jasper grimaced as he realized who the voice belonged to. He didn't hold back his surliness when he murmured, unhappily, "Hello, Mrs. Grundy."

"Jasper, Edward." Rosalie nodded her head at both of us in acknowledgment. "Let me guess, Jasper is a little annoyed that Edward didn't introduce him to an attractive, young woman and Edward is a little annoyed that he can't talk to the woman of his dreams. Am I right or am I right?"

"You're right, Rosalie," I replied, blandly, as I leaned underneath the bar to grab a glass for her. She was always a little moody without a drink in her hand.

"Of course, I'm right." Rosalie rolled her eyes as she held her hand open, ready for her drink. "I was listening to your pathetic conversation."

"That's great," Jasper scoffed as he flicked his glass.

"Edward, if you want Bella, you have to go get her," Rosalie advised me as she took a sip of her drink. She slipped her hand in Jasper's pocket, snatching his box of cigarettes from him without asking, and deftly grabbed one with her middle and forefinger. "Trust me."

"You are the last person Edward would trust, Rosalie," Jasper snapped, suddenly in a terrible mood. He swiftly stepped down from the barstool and began to storm towards the door when he shouldered a man in a trench coat and fedora. He quickly turned to apologize to the man when he was punched square in the nose.

Before I could react, Jasper was lying on the floor with the man on top of him, punching his face, repeatedly. My eyes widened as I started to remember the night I was attacked by James and his hunchmen. I closed my eyes, clenching my fists.

I awoke from my trance when I heard a soft, delicate voice screaming, "Stop it, Emmett! Stop!"

I opened my eyes to see Bella standing in front of the bar, trying to pull the man off of Jasper. She grabbed onto his punching arm, now stained red with blood, and held on, trying to stop him. The man, more than twice her size, shook her off of his arm, throwing her into a table near the bar.

Without any hesitation, I jumped over the bar and tackled the man. As soon as I found myself on top of him, wrestling to stay there, I screamed to Rosalie, "Get Jasper outside! Go!"

Rosalie nodded, her face mortified, and started to drag Jasper's unconscious body towards the entrance.

"Get off me!" the man shouted, shoving me off with the slightest push of his hands. Once I flew back into the bar, the man stood up, brushed himself off, and walked away, snarling at me.

I closed my eyes, unable to breathe. With every breath I took, my body ached more and more. I touched my chest, gently, surprised when I felt a warm liquid seeping through my clothing. My heart stopped as I slowly lowered my head to see that the palm of my hand was filled with blood and lots of it.

"Are you okay?" an angelic voice asked me. I heard footsteps hurrying to my side and felt a delicate hand on my shoulder.

I opened my eyes to see Bella, standing beside me, a worried look crossing her stunning face. She held my face in her hand, causing me to stare directly into her deep, dark brown eyes. I couldn't help but lose myself in her eyes.

"I told you to stay away from her!" I heard a fuming voice scream from behind me. I watched as Bella looked past me at the screaming person, her face frozen in fear. I could hear my heart beating loudly in my chest when I slowly swiveled around to see an irate James, wielding a gun, with several men behind him.

My eyes widened as I took in the gun and the fact that it was pointed directly at Bella, who hadn't moved once since her eyes locked onto James' figure. Instantaneously, I stepped in front of her, blocking her from the bullet that I knew was to come. I closed my eyes, waiting to hear the shot that would signal it.

"How sweet," James spat. I could feel his eyes roving up and down my body. "Now, you can watch him die."

I bit my lip as soon as I heard the gunshot and braced myself for the pain. I didn't feel anything at all as I fell involuntarily to the floor. I felt my breathing slow, tremendously, in and out, in and out. I hadn't realized that I was actually going to die until I tasted my own blood in my mouth.

I could feel Bella kneel on the floor next to me and cradle my head in her arms. She brushed my hair with her fingers, gently, a loving smile on her face. She was beautiful, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen or imagined.

I couldn't help but smile, in spite of the situation. I was dying in my Bella's arms. This moment was all that I could ask for; every event in my life had led up to it and nothing, not even the fact that I was dying, could take away from it.

"I…I love you," I whispered as I reached out to touch her face. She was everything I loved, everything I wanted, everything.

Bella was opening her mouth to respond to me when everything started to look blurry. And then, everything went black.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Bella," I managed to croak, my throat burning. I licked my cracked, dry lips before trying again, "Bella."

Slowly, I opened my eyes to see a bright, white room and two people hovering over me. One was a tall, arrogant man who introduced himself as Doctor White and the other was a motherly, caring nurse who patted my hand, sympathetically, before she left.

I closed my eyes as I let my head rest against the lumpy, hospital pillow.

"It was a dream," I heard Bella's voice whisper as she touched my face, gently, with the back of her hand. "Just a dream."

I smiled, opening my eyes. It was just a dream, but it was my dream. She was my dream.