A/N: So, in order to make this so much better, I've decided to repost this chapters now reviewed and edited.

Thank you so much for the support and thanks to my incredible Beta Ashlie Christine, who's been the best girl in the world.

All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, the story is mine.

Chapter One: Isabella

The camera shot one, two, three times. Meanwhile the photographer captured the same position he had since the two before. The pictures were exactly the same, but the young man kept going, insisting on repeating them more than necessary. Honestly, she was tired. Very tired.
The make-up artist returned to touch up her make-up and hairstyle quickly and came out of frame the moment the camera started over to take some more pictures.

Some years ago, when her mother and her aunts tried to convince her that she would do great with a career in modeling, Isabella Swan denyed it and claimed that she would never be able to do such a thing. However, five years since then, the young woman looked to New York's best photographer and got ready for a brand new publicity campaign for Dior.
Who would've ever imagined that the insipid, boring and not at all pretty Isabella Swan would become one of the US's best five models? Famous, admired, and envied.

The young man made her change her pose and started a new set of pictures. The young woman had no doubt that the man was one of the bests at his job, but, did he have to be so intense at it? His excitement had started to perturbed her a little bit , who despite being use to all the stuff that surrounded her—lights, assistants, make-up artists, designers, executives, the photographers— she had started to feel really overwhelmed.

"I think that's enough." Her savior intervened at last. Rosalie Hale, Isabella's agent and best friend. Beautiful, intelligent and efficient as hell.

"We still can make some more." mediated the young man, upset by the interruption of his creative mind.

"We're done for today." announced the blonde with a threatening look.

The man, intimidated by the determination in the Rosalie's cold, blue eyes, accepted his defeat, nodding and retiring obediently.

"That's all for the day, guys," He declared to the rest of the crew. A general sigh of relief was heard in the entire place. Isabella wasn't the only one overwhelmed by the energy of the man.

"I'm going to get you out of here." assured Rosalie while she handed her a silk, purple robe and walked towards the group of executives that were expecting to talk with the model.

The girl, though, walked to her dressing room instead, drinking half the bottle of water she had and allowed her feet to take a rest for a couple of minutes. After more than four hours perched in different types of high heels, it felt nice to be off her feet.
Three minutes later Rosalie entered the dressing room with a triumphed and satisfied smile, which was the clear sign that she was free to go.
Isabella got ready in a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, a black coat, and a pair of shoes considerably shorter than her heels she had been wearing. With her hair finally done, they went out through the back door, avoiding the paparazzi that were waiting for her to take pictures.

"I'm so tired." she said when they were finally in the van that would drive her to the apartment she shared with Rosalie; her driver was conveniently unaware of what was going on in the back due to the fact that his headphones were on.

"It's normal, Seth is quite a genius at photography but everybody knows he's a pain in the ass." replied her friend, whom was checking her appointments for the rest of the week. Isabella was exhausted and it was nearly Monday.

"Did we check the schedule?"
Isabella muffled a moan of pain but nodded, they would do it even if she didn't want to.

"Tomorrow you have a wardrobe revision for the next runway that'll be in two months. We have to coordinate with the magazine that will publish an article about your career in their next issue. On Wednesday you have a press conference for Dior's campaign, and dinner with the investors" Isabella stopped paying attention in that moment. It was the same whenever she started a new campaign, there wouldn't be any difference with the last one, or the one before, or the others before and after that.

"And last but not least, we're going to Forks this Friday." Those last words alerted the girl back to the conversation. She turned towards her friend with surprise pictured all over her face. Rosalie though, ignored her with her eyes locked on her phone.

"What did you say?" asked the model, sure that she had misunderstood her.

"We're going to Forks this Friday." repeated the blonde girl, as if there was nothing odd about it. Bella turned pale, then red in two seconds.

"Why in the world are we going to Forks?!" She shouted, Rosalie just snorted.

"It's your mother's birthday. You haven't seen your parents in five years and you promised them you would come, you can't keep ignoring them just to avoid the ghost of your past." She told her off with affection, holding her hand so she would know she was there for her.

Isabella, despite Rosalie's words, thought the opposite. It was true she missed her parents, but she wasn't willing to going back to that hell that was her hometown, where she had lived the worst years of her life. No way. They could call her a chicken, but she didn't care. Her ghosts must stay where they belong, in her past. Forks belonged to the past as well, and thats where it would remain. She wasn't going back.

"I'll send her a nice present." was her answer, taking her hand from her friend's and looking straight through the window.

"They are your parents, Isabella." Rosalie insisted, which pissed off the determined model off more.

"Then I'll make them come here, I'll pay all the expenses, but I won't go back to Forks and i'm putting my foot down on that." Rosalie gave up. When she wanted something, Isabella could be way more stubborn than she, and that was saying something.

"As you wish" she answered rudely.
They spent the rest of the trip in a tense silence that Garret, their driver, noticed the moment he opened the back door of the van, once they had arrived at the girl's residence.

"Get the car ready, Garret please. I'll be back in a minute" Rosalie said.

The man nodded confused, not daring to ask anything else. Even though he had cared for the girls, he knew he couldn't interfere in anything, unless of course, they asked him.

"Of course, miss Rosalie" he replied, the girl smiled at him, grateful that he didn't ask anything. She entered the apartment quickly, leaving a tired and bothered Isabella behind her, a very bad combination.

Minutes later, Isabella had changed her fancy and expensive clothes for some more comfortable and old ones inside. Not too soon after, she heard the door of the apartment close and the car take off. Rosalie had left her to deal with her emotional dilemma.
There, now standing in the middle of her huge bedroom and wearing these clothes, she didn't find very many differences between the woman she was now and the ordinary girl she used to be back then.

Exasperated by her reflection, her tiredness and the fight with her best friend, she laid down on her bed covered by sheets of Egyptian cotton. She closed her eyes, hoping for all the pain to go away, so she could live happily with her actual life.

A pair of green eyes showed up tho in her memories making her feel even more frustrated with herself. Five years had passed, and it's been so long in between then since she had seen those green eyes that once tormented her and made her suffer for three years. She still felt that kick in her stomach.

A series of disjointed pictures started to pass through her head and she couldn't help but feel her heart hurt and deceived again; she wanted to scream and cry but she had done all that once before and had promised herself to never do it again.

She was someone new now. Her hair, almost always boring, now was well done and beautiful. Her pale and ugly face had been replaced for a brand new one, more fresh and made over with the latest makeup trends. Her not cool at all style was now filled with a designer wardrobe.
All about her had changed on the outside,but the inside, that was still the same and no one needed to know that.

Before she could hurt herself more with all those thoughts, the sound of her cell interrupted her reverie. She had received two new messages, one from Rosalie, and the other…from her mother, she opened the one from Rosalie first.

-"I'm sorry, shouldn't have been a bitch, still friends? Xoxo" —

Isabella smiled at the sweet and simple way her best friend used for apologizing. That's how thing were with Rosalie, and that's why they were so close.

-"I was a bitch too, no need to apologize, friends forever. Xoxo"-Was her simple answer.

She didn't want to, but had to open the second message.

-"We miss you so much, my little pumpkin, can't wait till Friday when we can see you again. You'll be the best birthday present ever. We love you, Mom and Dad." —

The young woman groaned with sorrow and frustration. She knew Renee, her mother, perfectly. She knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't take another "No" as an answer. Rosalie was right; she had stood up her parents way too many times already, they wouldn't forgive her once more.

Isabella wanted to scream and cry again, so she did. When she was done with hitting the soft mattress beneath her fists, she took out her cell and sent a quick reply to her mother, and then another to Rosalie.

"To Forks, Friday" —Isabella sniffed and closed her tear stained eyes letting herself languish in bed.

She raised her phone when another text from Rosalie arrived.
-"Great, ;)" -The message said.

Isabella sniffed again, feeling helpless, frustrated, and mad with her friend and parents. Above all though, scared as hell. Friday she would be back in Forks, the place of her nightmares, and she didn't want to do it. Rose was sure that she could confront her fears, but Isabella wasn't sure if she wanted to do it, or in any case, ever able of doing it.