Twilight characters remain the sole property of Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. Original characters, story, and plot lines belong to Shenda Paul.


Unplugged Chapter 30

Coffee splatters then drips down the wall as Victoria lets out another piercing screech. For seven full minutes, she unleashes a barrage of invective against Bella, and, for another five, she rants until she's used every foul word she knows for everyone else she blames for 'the shit heap' her life's become. She curses Edward for being ungrateful, Mitch and Aro for sacking and blacklisting her, Eva for landing a job that should have been hers, and finally, 'that fucking traitor' James for deserting her. "How dare he? He'd have nothing, not even his shitty European gig, without me!" she rants, still smarting from her discovery two days ago when she'd visited James' apartment.

Victoria, desperate and having exhausted every other option she could think of to claw her way back into the industry, had gone there to convince him to appoint her as his manager. The thought of representing someone she deems a B-grade talent hadn't thrilled her, but she'd reminded herself that she'd started out that way. "It won't be for long," she'd told herself and had set out prepared to flatter, cajole; do whatever it took to gain his agreement.

She'd hoped that 'Bimbo Barbie,' as she'd named Abby, wouldn't be there. Still, Victoria had felt confident in her and James' history to consider Abby a temporary annoyance. She'd convinced herself that his last words had been bravado, an attempt to gain the upper hand in their relationship. Abby, she'd decided, had surprised her, and she hadn't handled her well. She'd vowed not to make that mistake again.

Victoria expected to win James over like she'd done a many times before. What she hadn't expected was for a stranger to answer his door. She'd been livid when learning that James and his 'fiancée' had left for Germany. The thought of how easily he'd walked away from her; that he hadn't even bothered to let her know he was leaving the country, angers her anew. "Bastard!" she yells, hurling a shoe across the room.

Victoria's deepest resentment, however, is reserved for Bella, who, she's convinced, is the cause of her troubles. From her inability to capture Edward, her many job application rejections; from the refusals of business acquaintances to accept her calls to being turned away from nightclubs, she blamed Bella for it all. The more her life unraveled, the more her bitterness had grown. Her only consolation had been the knowledge that, despite failing to capture Edward for herself, she'd managed to rob Bella of having him too. That and the memory of Bella's devastated face in Dallas had, until logging onto TMZ that morning, soothed Victoria's wounded pride.

Those photos of Edward and Bella had erased even that small comfort. Victoria's immediate response had been shock. "How the hell did this happen?" she'd wondered because she'd been following reports of the success of Edward's new album and his upcoming tour, and there'd been no sight or mention of Bella. She'd been overcome with jealousy, and she'd imagined a hundred ways to end their reunion only to realize how useless those thoughts were. She'd already done her damndest. "And look where that got me!"she'd fumed. Frustrated, she'd hurled her cup at the wall.

Having vented her anger, Victoria sags onto the sofa, eyes roaming back to her laptop screen where the photos continue to taunt her. Only just resisting the urge to hurl the device across the room, she shuts it with a snap instead. 'Masen and the mouse can wait,' Victoria decides, reminding herself that if she doesn't find a job or lay her hands on some money soon, she'll lose her beloved condo, the most tangible evidence of her success. She curses Edward and Bella once more, and then James for good measure as she picks up shards of porcelain from the floor. Finally, with the mess cleared and the wall cleaned to the best of her ability, she pours herself another coffee and turns her mind to her new plan—the one she'd devised after leaving James' apartment. Flipping through the latest copy of Vibe Magazine, she locates the article that spawned what she considers her last-ditch attempt to reclaim her status in the music business.

. . . . .

In New York, Edward and Bella are leaving Ruby's where he'd taken her for breakfast. "I can see why you like it here," she comments as they leave the restaurant.

"Ruby's great," he says fondly.

"She is, but I meant all of this." Bella's gesture sweeps the restaurant and its surrounds.

"It's home," Edward replies simply and offers his hand, palm up. "Would you like to explore a bit?"

"Do we have time?"

"Enough for a quick tour if you'd like."

"I'd love to."

"Then we'll do it," Edward grins at her eagerness and, unable to resist, plants a lingering kiss on her lips before, hand-in-hand, they wander down the bustling street. Heads turn as they pass, and several people greet Edward with a nod, a smile, or a simple, "Masen." Occasionally, he exchanges a hello or a fist bumps before, leaning in to tuck Bella's hair behind her ear or drop a kiss on her forehead,he offers snippets of information such as, "that's Joe from the record store," or, " Sandra works at the deli." Bella, like Alice had on her first visit, appreciates the village atmosphere. "I keep forgetting I'm in the city until I look across the water and see how close the Statue of Liberty is," she comments. A short while later, Bella praises the number of eateries and small businesses. "I love that you find those next to that," she contrasts a glass blowing studio and nursery operating alongside an industrial warehouse.

"That's part of what attracted me to the area, but it wasn't always like this," Edward informs her, and, when she asks, elaborates on the area's dangerous past. "Al Capone reportedly lived in the area, and even as late as the nineties when I lived here, people from my old neighborhood, which was pretty rough, would've thought twice about wandering into Red Hook. It's changed a lot, but it's still a work in progress. Norman Mailer was supposedly also a resident. Maybe the place has always had an arty side as well," he adds, telling Bella about the annual waterfront art festival, and the monthly book readings held at a local bar. Later, as they turn onto his street, he shares the history of the old New York Dock Building that's now his home.

In Edward's top floor condo, Bella is silent as she takes in the views across the bay to Manhattan and every other aspect of the place—the large, open plan living areas, concrete ceilings, the state-of-the art kitchen, luxurious guest rooms, and the enormous, freestanding bath in the master suite. Finally, in his studio, Edward, who'd been watching her with growing concern, steps up behind her and, kissing the sensitive spot beneath her ear, says, "I'm dying to know what you're thinking."

Bella turns in his arms and cups his cheek. "I'm thinking how wonderful this is," she says with a catch in her voice.

"The studio?"

"Your home. It's stunning, Edward, and seeing how happy you are in Brooklyn—it makes me happy too."

"And yet you're sad," he notes.

"It's nothing," Bella shrugs, but her nervous biting of her lip says otherwise.

"Your feelings aren't nothing, Bella. Not to me," he says and, leading her to a nearby sofa, pulls her down beside him. "What's bothering you?" he asks.

"I am happy for you, Edward," she answers after a moment's hesitation. "For your amazing success and that you've found a place where you so obviously feel you belong. It's everything you ever dreamed of. It's just…I realized that your life is here now." Bella doesn't say it, but her unspoken, "and mine isn't," is apparent.

Edward rescues one of the hands she's twisting in her lap. "Yes, I wanted a successful music career, and I do love being back in Brooklyn—" he pauses to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. "But that's not all I dreamed of. Every dream since you entered my life included you. They may not have been romantic at first, but you were always there. When I dreamed of success, I imagined sharing it with you. When I pictured a home of my own, I saw myself sharing it with you.

"From the moment I realized I loved you, there was no my life or your life, only our life. That hasn't changed, Bella—not since we agreed to start over, and I hope to fuck you see it the same way. Otherwise, I don't know what the hell we're doing here."

"I feel the same," Bella assures him, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Then everything else is just geography, baby." Edward brushes her lips with his. "I know how you feel about Philly and being close to your parents, Bella, and I know you love your job. I don't expect you to give up any of those things, and I hope you'll understand what being back in Brooklyn means to me. I don't want to ever leave it permanently again, but I also don't plan on us being apart if I can help it. So, until I go on tour, I plan on staying at The Rittenhouse, and hopefully, you'll agree to spend most weekends here. After the tour, I'll buy a place in Philly."

"You don't have to do that," Bella protests, suggesting that Edward could stay at her place. "It's small, only one bedroom, and I know we're not ready—" she stops, suddenly uncertain.

"I'd love that, baby," Edward assures her. "And we're getting there, don't you think?" he asks, and when she agrees, caresses her flushed cheek with the back of his hand.

"We are, and until we get there, I'm happy to sleep on your sofa. It wouldn't be practical in the long term, though. If I'm going to spend four or five days a week in Philly, I'll need a studio. I could hire one, but I've gotten used to having my own. Besides, property's a good investment, and I've been thinking of buying in Philly ever since Alice started looking at places, anyway," he tells her, and when Bella nods, accepting his statement, he presses.

"You haven't said how you feel about spending weekends here?"

"I can't think of anything nicer," Bella replies.

"So, no more sadness?"

"No more," she confirms, teary again when she thanks Edward for being so considerate. He lifts her chin, green eyes dark and sincere as he tells her he wants to spend every moment he can with her. "I love you, Bella, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to be with you," he says.

Bella's, "I love you too," is lost in a sigh when Edward kisses her softly once, and then again before lifting her onto his lap, intensifying their connection until the blood thrums in their veins. "Bella," he rasps, resting his forehead on hers when they come up for air. That single word conveys every trace of the love and lust he feels.

Bella tightens her grasp on his waist, a silent acknowledgment of shared emotion. They remain like that, wrapped in each other's arms until their breathing evens. Then, with a tender kiss, Edward murmurs that he'd like to discuss something before they call Eva. He adjusts Bella so they're looking at each other and suggests hiring security for her.

She immediately objects, saying it's not necessary.

"It could well be, Bella. The tabloids and paps are probably already digging up information on you, and I don't want a repeat of what happened at the airport. Would you at least consider it? For while I'm away?"

"Would it make you feel better?" she asks.

"It would give me some peace of mind, yes," he tells her.

"Okay," Bella concedes and, at Edward's satisfied smile, stresses, "Only while you're touring."

"Agreed. On the proviso that you haven't been hounded by paps."

"Proviso?" Bella smiles. "I thought I was the lawyer."

"It's taken a while, but I've learned my way around contracts, baby," he says in the same teasing tone. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Bella confirms, and Edward kisses her again before, with a reluctant sigh, he shifts her off his lap and stands, offering his hand to help her up up. "Let's call Eva so we can enjoy the rest of our day."

In the living room, after getting them each a glass of water, he FaceTimes Eva. After a quick greeting, he reintroduces the women then waits until they've exchanged pleasantries before speaking again.

"As you can see, Bella and I are together," he says, grinning at Eva's eye roll. "And while I don't give a shit about the tabloids, I don't want Bella's life turning a three-ring circus. How do we stop that from happening?"

"First, let me repeat what I told Bella. I'm happy for you, Edward, and although some notice to plan the release of your reconciliation would've been nice, I can't blame you for just living your life. In fact, in hindsight, I think it's the best strategy for dealing with the tabloids," Eva responds.

"But?" Edward prods.

"What makes you think there's a but?"

"I know that tone. Plus, you have that eye thing going on," he deadpans.

"Fine," Eva huffs. "I want you to get a publicist."

"You know I don't buy into that celebrity shit."

"I'm not saying you should buy into anything. I'm suggesting we gain some control over the tabloid situation."

"How would a publicist do that?" Edward only barely conceals his skepticism.

"For starters, he or she would counter any lies printed about you. Or Bella," Eva cuts off his argument.

"Okay," Edward concedes with ill grace, "but this person had better understand that I won't become another pathetic media junkie."

"As if there's a chance of that ever happening!" Eva snorts and then, with her expression softening, assures him he's doing the right thing.

Edward doesn't respond, asking, instead, if she has someone in mind.

"I have two excellent people I'd like you to consider," Eva informs him.

"You decide," Edward returns, his distaste for the idea evident.

"You need to trust and like your publicist, so you should meet them. So should Bella," Eva counters, the mention of Bella, again, sees Edward capitulate.

"Fine, but you decide who we should hire. We'll meet whoever you choose." He glances at Bella for approval, and when she nods, turns back to Eva. "You know more about what makes a good publicist than I do. Besides, I want the person to report to you."

"I don't have a problem with that. It'll ensure a consistent message," Eva agrees. "You will, of course, get to approve everything before it 's sent out. You too, Bella, about anything that mentions you."

"Thanks. Do you prefer one candidate over the other?" Bella asks.

"Of course she does," Edward laughs.

"They both have excellent reputations, though I have…" Eva glares when he stifles another laugh, "worked with one of them several times before."

"Do you trust this person?" Bella asks through her smile.

"Her name's Rita, and, yes, I do," Eva nods.

"Then you should hire her. Shouldn't she?" Bella asks Edward for confirmation.

"Bella's right. Why bother interviewing?"

"I want to give you a choice."

"We don't need it. When did you want to bring her on board?"

"As soon as. I was going to suggest we send out a press release confirming your relationship in the next day or so. We should probably provide some basic information on Bella too."

"Why?" Edward demands.

"We can't stop the paps from following her or the tabloids from printing any and everything they lay their hands on. I'm hoping that by feeding them a few snippets, we can stop them prying—at least for a while. Hopefully, it will buy us time to develop a more comprehensive plan. If you're sure you're happy for me to hire Rita, I'll brief her so she can help draft and then send out the release. I'll also arrange your meeting."

"What do you think?" Edward asks Bella.

She shrugs. "It seems like the best thing to do."

"Okay," he instructs Eva. "Where's Rita based?"

"LA, but I'm sure she'll travel to the east coast if you want."

"Can we meet in Philly? Preferably on a weekday?" Edward asks, again looking for Bella's input.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Eva responds at the same time Bella says, "Suits me."

"That's settled then," Edward announces with a note of satisfaction and asks Eva if there's anything else they need to cover.

"We need to decide what to say about your relationship and what details about Bella you're happy sharing," she informs them. After twenty minutes of toing and froing, she declares herself satisfied and promises to forward a draft copy of the release for their approval. "Have a good gig," she tells Edward when mentioning his SNL appearance and then, after telling Bella to enjoy the show, ends their call.

"How do you feel about all that?" Edward shuts his laptop.

"I'm not happy, but I still think it's the best thing to do. What about you?" Bella questions in return.

"I'm not either, but Eva's right. If we don't give the tabloids something, they'll start digging, and that'll be worse. If anyone else had suggested a press release, I would've refused. I trust Eva. She wouldn't have mentioned it if there was another way," Edward replies.

"I do too, but I'm still not sure about the security. I don't want you spending that much money on me," Bella confesses.

"Bella, we just agreed that we want to build a life together, didn't we?" Edward gently admonishes and repeats his earlier comment about sharing everything with her. "That includes the proceeds of my success. So, would you forget about the money, please, and let me protect you?"

"I'll try…I'm sorry." Bella blushes guiltily.

"No, I'm sorry, baby. I wish I could stop the paps and the tabloids, but I can't. I can, however, do whatever I can to ensure your safety," he tells her and when she thanks him, kisses her and tells her that it's a privilege to take care of her. They drop the subject then, but later, while strolling around Red Hook Pier, Bella comments that Charlie will probably have a fit when finding out about the security.

"Let me explain it to him," Edward offers, and when Bella says she doesn't think it's a good idea, asks why "Does Charlie have a problem with us getting back together?"

"No...I don't know," Bella admits and, at Edward's questioning look, reveals that she hasn't discussed the matter with him. "I haven't mentioned us at all, not since our breakup. All Dad and Mom knew at the time was that we broke up, and that I was devastated. I only recently told Mom the truth," she admits, relating that, on her return from Dallas, she'd holed up in a hotel for the rest of the weekend to avoid her parents and how, after confessing that they'd split up, she'd refused to discuss the reasons.

"I understand not wanting to talk about it," Edward comforts. "Hell, I did that and worse to avoid even thinking about it. Does your Mom know we're back together? That you're with me now?" he asks.

"She does, and she's ecstatic," Bella smiles, all traces of regret vanish when sharing that piece of news.

Edward's reciprocal smile is brilliant. "Wouldn't she have told your Dad?"

"Possibly, but, unless she thinks he absolutely needs to know, Mom tends to keep my confidences. Especially since she considered me grown up. Either way, I should still talk to Dad and soon."

"Do it when we get back, and, after, lets invite them to dinner? We could cover the security issue then," Edward suggests.

Bella assents. "I'm going to call Mom when I get back to the hotel to warn her about the photos in case she hasn't seen them. I'll mention talking to Dad and ask about dinner too."

Happy with their plans, they spend the next few hours exploring more of Brooklyn. At three, they return to Bella's hotel, where, having skipped lunch, they order room service. While eating, Bella questions Edward about the inspiration for his album, something her uncertainty about their relationship had prevented her from doing before. An ocean of regret floods her as he relates the circumstances that resulted in his third album, his disillusionment and frustration at allowing himself to be railroaded into collaborating with James. He tells how, despite his best efforts, he'd been able to drum up the inspiration and drive that had produced his previous successes.

"You couldn't have refused, Edward. The terms of your contract were pretty specific," Bella reassures him.

"Maybe, but if I hadn't been so screwed up, I might have managed a better outcome," he admits. Neither he nor Bella mentions the reason for him being 'screwed up.'

"I wrote most of the songs in rehab," Edward reveals, explaining how, once he'd managed to control the cravings and his mind had cleared, the lyrics and music had flowed again. "Quite a few of those tracks came to me while running," he confesses, and when Bella asks, explains how running had helped take his mind off Dexedrine and reveals that he still runs as often as he can.

Bella asks, and Edward explains his inspiration for specific songs, including Arc and Lost, two of his newly released singles that he'd be performing that night. Arc, she learns, reflects the turbulent emotions that led to his downward spiral into drugs and, eventually, his determination to climb out of the dark pit his life had become. He glosses over Lost, but Bella knows it's about their breakup.

"Full Circle makes sense now," she says about the album's title, her voice tight with emotion.

'I realized when waking up in that hospital bed that I needed to reclaim my life." Edward caresses her cheek with the back of his hand, his somber face lighting up with a tender smile. "When I named it, I had no idea just how completely I'd close that circle."

. . . . .

At four-thirty, Edward returns home and calls Alice, who, having seen the photographs, had texted him twice during the day. He updates her and tells her about the planned press release. "Is Bella okay?" she asks, humming approval when he relates Bella's determination not to be intimidated. "I'm glad you've involved Eva," Alice says when Edward mentions the press release.

"If anyone asks, just stick to the facts we discussed, " he tells her before talking about arrangements for that night.

He calls Jake next to check that everything's on track for him, Jay, and Ricky to conduct the studio sound check. "Do you have a copy of the rider Eva sent over?" he asks, and when Jake confirms that he has, asks him to double-check that the show's provided all the gear they'd been requested to supply. Edward tells him about the press release as well, and, like he'd done with Alice, briefs him on how to respond to questions about him and Bella.

"Bastards," Jake says about the paps. "How's Bella doing?"

"Better than expected, considering I threw her in at the deep end."

"Probably the best way for her to learn to cope," Jake replies, and Edward, aware of his friend's reservations about Bella and knowing it stems from his concern for him, ignores the comment. "So, you guys are okay? Have you talked to Rick and Jay?" he asks instead.

"We're good," Jake confirms, and, after a brief conversation about their performance, they end the call.

Just before six, showered and changed, Edward steps into the limo he'd hired to drive them into The City. At seven-fifteen, after a relaxed dinner at a restaurant a few blocks from Rockefeller Plaza, he and Bella stroll down to SNL's studios.

On the eighth floor, they're greeted by one of the show's producers, who, after expressing delight at having Edward perform, leads the way to the green room where, she informs them, Edward's band is waiting. Bella only half listens as she tells him that his first performance will be 'about half an hour in.' She's too distracted by the lines of people waiting to be admitted, and by the gasps and whispers of 'Masen' as they pass. She's amazed by how much bigger than she'd imagined the studio is, and by the fact that it's packed to the rafters with set pieces, props, and lighting and camera equipment.

There are several sets and dozens of crew and security staff wandering around. The air buzzes; the energy of the crew and anticipation of the waiting audience, palpable. Bella experiences several pangs of excitement herself when spots several cast members wandering through the melee—people who'd entertained her and whose talent she'd marveled at for years. Edward's squeeze of her hand and his, "Thanks, Marci," alerts her to the fact that they've reached their destination. "You're welcome," Marci smiles before, with a reminder that he'd get a ten-minute cue, she tells them to 'make themselves at home' and dashes off.

In the green room, which Bella notes with amusement is, in fact, taupe, Jacob Black and two other men are lounging in a sitting area. Jake greets Edward with a broad grin and a retort about him 'finally getting here,' to which Edward responds by flipping him the bird. He leads Bella to an unoccupied sofa. "This is Jay Gordon and Ricky Johnson," he tells her. "Jay's our drummer, and Ricky plays bass," he adds, waiting until they've greeted one another before turning to his friend.

"You know Jake, of course."

Jake's, "Great to see you again, Bella," sounds genuine enough, his smile as brilliant as ever, but Bella, who can't decide whether it's a figment of her imagination or not, senses a wariness in his eyes. She doesn't have time to dwell because she's too distracted by Edward quizzing Ricky and Jay about the soundcheck while inspecting his guitars that Jake had tuned.

Seeing Edward cradle a guitar, his intense expression and his head tilted in that particular way, is a bittersweet reminder of just how much she'd missed him—every aspect of him from his brooding nature, to the way he looks at and touches her, to his ability to make her blood sing with a mere look or the stroke of a fingertip. She'd also missed his rare but precious bouts of frivolity and their exclusive brand of playfulness. Mostly, she'd missed the heart-stopping, bone-melting intimacy she'd only ever experienced with Edward. Bella vows never to jeopardize those things again.

Edward, finished with his inspection, returns to her side. At eight sharp, quiet is called on set, and, almost impossibly, the atmosphere in the studio heightens. In the green room, silence descends as all eyes focus on the humungos screen, eagerly watching the first sketch play out. Sixteen minutes after a cast member delivers the iconic line, "Live from New York, it's Saturday Night," an assistant pops his head into the green room to inform Edward that he has ten minutes. The young man, Shane, also offers to show Bella to a seat in the section reserved for guests of performers and crew. "If you want, but you won't be able to see every sketch and will probably end up watching a screen anyway," he tells her.

"It's up to you, baby," Edward says when Bella looks to him for guidance. "You'll get the audience vibe out front," he offers, and then, when she still seems unsure, tells her there's always the second show.

"Yeah," Bella agrees and, smiling at Shane, asks if she can get back to him.

"No, probs. I'll check with you later," he responds easily.

"Sure you'll be okay in here?" Edward asks he prepares to go onstage.

"I'm sure. Go, slay them out there," Bella assures him.

"I won't be long," he promises and, ignoring the others in the room, cups Bella's neck and kisses her deeply. "You have no idea how happy I am that you're here," he tells her before, with a tender kiss on her still parted lips, he collects his Stratocaster and leads his musicians out.

Bella's still reeling from that kiss when the opening chord of Arc sounds, drawing her eyes to the video screen. A few beats later, as Edward's voice fills the air, she's reminded of just how mesmerizing he is on stage. Edward's musical brilliance, his often raw lyrics, coupled with that distinctive voice, with its ability to sound either sexily raspy or heartstoppingly smooth, sounds fantastic when recorded. His live performances transcend that. There's something extraordinary about seeing him wield his guitar as if it were an extension of his body, about seeing him produce the sounds that flow from his fingers like a life force. The way he embodies his music is something else again. The combination of those talents, industry journalists have written, is what sets him apart from many of his peers. Those, and that indefinable something, the same essence Bella had sensed in him even as a young boy. And, based on their response, the SNL audience and crew wholeheartedly share those views.

Edward thanks the audience and leaves the set, and soon, as promised, he's back in the green room. This time, it's Bella who ignores the presence of his band as she stands on tiptoe, wraps her arms around Edward's neck and kisses him soundly. "You were wonderful," she whispers against his parted lips.

"Thank you," he responds, mouth curving into a smile as he brings their foreheads together. Jay's chuckle, followed by Ricky's, "Don't mind us," bursts their bubble. Bella pulls back, her cheeks on fire, but Edward refuses to release her. He pulls her closer instead.

"Fuck off," he responds good-naturedly to Jay's suggestion that he, 'get a room.' Ricky grins, and even Jake, who appears, at least for now, to have dismissed whatever concern he has, is smiling. That carefree feeling remains for the rest of night as they chat and watch the show unfold. It's easy to forget that what they're seeing is a rehearsal. Cast and crew treat it very much like a live show; right down to the time-outs they call to allow for ad breaks. There are no second takes or do-overs, and the energy level in the studio doesn't abate, not even a little. The set changes are frenetic, but the pace doesn't affect the crew. It's clear that no matter the time constraints, details matter. Bella watches, impressed, as three people work on straightening a rug that doesn't even appear in shot, and yet another meticulously adjusts a background table lamp for a different sketch, making sure it's properly lit. The studio remains a constant hive of activity. Even the writers aren't complacent. They're right there, in the thick of things, monitoring audience response, altering or rewriting lines, if deemed necessary.

Edward's second appearance happens nearly an hour after his first. He performs Lost perched on a stool, lit by a single spotlight with Jake, Ricky, and Jay supporting from the shadows. His rendition, raw, brimming with confusion and pain, has Bella in tears. The audience, who'd collectively and instantly applauded at the end of Arc, appears stunned as silence reigns for several moments before clapping starts up. By the time Edward steps down from the stool, it's deafening.

He returns alone, takes one look at Bella's face, and drops his Martin on the sofa to gather her in his arms. "I'm sorry," she murmurs brokenly.

"Don't, Bella. Writing Lost was cathartic. I needed to get those feelings out, but it's over. I'm okay. We're okay." Edward strokes her back, and lifting her chin with his other hand, urges her to look at him,

"I love you," he tells her.

"I love you too. So much," Bella reciprocates as he lowers his mouth to hers.

"Where are the others?" she asks when they part.

"Out there. Giving us privacy, I guess," Edward says, trying to lighten the mood.

"I feel bad."

"They're big boys, baby; they can cope. Besides, they know Alice and her friends will be here soon, so they're probably trying to be considerate," he says, reminding her that, after speaking to Alice, he'd agreed to meet up before the live show. "She thought it would be nice if we met her friends before going to the club," he'd explained in the limo, and Bella, wanting to do whatever she could to smooth things over with Alice, had agreed.

"Where do we meet?" she asks.

"Marci's arranged for someone to bring them here," Edward informs her.

Fewer than ten minutes later, someone taps on the door, and the moment she'd agonized over since reconciling with Edward arrives. Bella had imagined the many different ways her and Alice's first meeting after the altercation could unfold. Not once, in all of those scenarios, did she picture Alice entering a room with Jasper. Yet, that's exactly what she sees when the door opens.

Based on his rigid posture, Edward appears just as taken aback. For a beat, he stares, and then, standing, offers Bella a hand and helps her up from the sofa. "Jasper," he says with an implicit challenge.

"Masen," Jasper acknowledges the message with a wry smile.

"Edward!" Alice exclaims excitedly as she steps around Jasper to hug her brother. "We met Jasper downstairs," she explains, and, without waiting for a reply, greets Bella with a pleasant smile.

"Hi, Bella," she says.

Bella lets out the breath she'd been holding. "Hi, Alice," she returns, her smile, grateful and apologetic.

"Come in," Alice invites her friends, who are hovering uncertainly nearby with a wave of her hand. Both are pretty, tallish, and fair-haired—one, the slightly shorter of the two, is a caramel blonde, while the other's hair is deep gold. "Tugging Bella by the hand, Alice introduces her to the golden-haired woman first. Chloe, she informs Bella, is a fellow med student. "We're staying at Jade's for the weekend," she says when introducing the other. Alice's conciliatory manner, coupled with her friends' warm greeting, relaxes Bella even more.

She grabs her brother's arm next and, beaming, tells her friends, "This is Edward." Bella, who'd experienced the potency of those piercing green eyes, can't help feeling sorry for them as they fidget under his gaze and stutter out responses to his smooth, "Hi, it's nice to meet you both." Chloe calls him Edward, and Jade, Masen. Luckily, they're saved from further awkwardness when Jake, Jay, and Ricky enter.

In the new round of introductions that follow, Jasper takes the opportunity to greet Bella. "How are you? Enjoying your weekend?" he asks.

"I am. Very much."

"I'm glad. You look happy."

"I am," Bella answers almost defiantly.

"I really am glad, Bella, for you and Masen. I get that you're together, and, like I said before, I'll respect your decision."

"Glad to hear that. And we're most definitely together," Edward answers, startling Bella with his appearance. He apologizes by kissing the side of her head. Jasper, though, who'd seen Edward approach, remains unfazed.

"Well, it seems that, soon, if they don't already know, the world will know you're together," he quips, then almost immediately, follows up by offering help in dealing with the tabloids.

"We're handling it," Edward tells him before outlining their plan. "Eva will brief your PR team, but Bella and I would appreciate you making sure your other staff knows not to talk to any reporters."

"Sigel employees know not to discuss our clients' private lives. Bella's situation is different, of course, but I'll deal with it," Jasper assures them.

"I appreciate it," Edward says, genuinely grateful.

"I meant what I told you too, Masen," Jasper adds, reminding Edward of their conversation outside the elevator.

"I did too," Edward tells him, and with that statement and Jasper's evident sincerity, the tension between them appears to dissolve.

When Shane arrives to escort Alice's group to their seats, Bella and, to her surprise, Jasper, decide to accompany them. They, indeed, have to watch most of the show on the giant screens placed throughout the studio because it's impossible, due to the number of different sets, to get a good view of every sketch. Despite this, the atmosphere is both exhilarating and infectious. Experiencing Edward's performance with Alice reminds Bella of the time they attended one of his hometown concerts with Esme and Renee. Like then, Alice can barely contain her awe of her brother's talent or her pride in him. This time, she, at least, stops short of announcing their relationship to everyone within hearing distance. Bella can tell, though, just how hard it is for her to hold back. During Lost, an emotional Alice grips Bella's hand, practically cutting off her circulation. "I'm trusting you, this time, Bella. Please don't hurt him again," she says before her blue eyes turn steely grey. "I promise; if you do, I'll make you regret it."

"I won't," Bella tearfully vows.

At the end of the song, she rejoins Edward in the green room for the last of the show. Jake, Ricky, and Jay, after packing up their instruments, including Edward's, leave, promising to catch up with them at Pegu, the night club where Edward had made reservations. When alone, he asks Bella how she and Alice got along. "She's been lovely," Bella assures him and relates her and Alice's exchange. Knowing that Edward would confront his sister, and knowing that she'd never give Alice a reason to act on it, Bella doesn't mention her warning.

Edward and Bella end up traveling to the club on their own because Alice, when Jasper mentions that he also has a limo waiting and offers a ride to 'anyone, who wants,' promptly accepts on behalf of Chloe, Jade and herself. Edward raises his eyebrows but, remembering their conversation when she'd mentioned coming to the show, doesn't object.

The club proves a perfect place for everyone to relax, talk about their SNL experience, and get to know one another without having to shout to be heard. Everyone, except for Edward and Bella, samples an array of the club's famous cocktails. He sticks with ginger ale with a twist of lime, and she, even when Edward urges her to try a cocktail or two, opts for freshly squeezed juice. The Asian inspired snacks, on the other hand, are a hit with everyone.

At two a.m., when Edward, after checking with Bella, announces that they're leaving, there are all-round protests. "Stay," he tells the others, "I'll leave the tab open."

"I'll handle it," Jasper says, and, after a brief debate, they agree that Edward will settle the existing tab and that Jasper will host the rest of the night. When Edward tells Alice he'll send the limo back for her and her friends, Jasper intervenes again, offering to see them home. "I'm a big girl," Alice reminds Edward when he argues. He tries to insist, and, in the end, Bella settles the matter by whispering in his ear, assuring him that Alice will be okay.

The drive from Manhattan to Brooklyn at that time of the morning takes hardly any time at all. At her hotel, Edward escorts Bella to her suite, where she thanks him for a fantastic day. "I wish it didn't have to end," she laments.

"I could stay for a while," he offers.

"I thought you were tired."

"Tired of sharing you," he says, leaning in to kiss the base of her neck, then peppers soft, open-mouthed kisses up the creamy-smooth length of it, setting her nerves atingle. "Do you want me to stay?" he murmurs, kissing the spot beneath her ear.

"Stay," Bella says on a sharp inhale.


Thank you for reading, and thank you for your patience as I continue my struggle to successfully juggle my life. And thank you, Coppertop, for everything.

Welcome new readers and subscribers.

I'd like to send a special message of support to my fellow Australians who are currently suffering from or in potential danger of the devastating fires sweeping across New South Wales and Queensland. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Please stay safe.

To my American readers and friends, I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving in advance.

Take care, everyone,

Shenda x