Chapter One: Yearning

It was quite troubling what Emmett constituted as fun. I had known this for a long time due to Emmett's profound tales; that was why whenever Emmett spoke the dreaded words: Guys Night Out, I found an excuse to avoid it. Tonight Emmett had suggested we watch a movie, Edward Scissorhands to be exact, and gorge on pizza accompanied with beer to commemorate our moving into a new (significantly smaller) apartment.

I should've known better than to trust the Cheshire grin on his face. My pizza was still on the paper plate, uneaten. Not with what was on the screen being on the screen. Emmett had lied. This wasn't Edward Scissorhands. It was something abominable.

"Dude, he's got penises for hands!" Emmett said and laughed hysterically. He took an enormous bite from his pizza and chased it down with some beer. All the while he stared transfixed at the screen.

It was Edward Penishands.

I couldn't take much more of it, the obnoxious moaning, the sex, or even Edward's rather peculiar facial expressions. The fact that we shared the same name was the most mortifying aspect of the scenario.

"Where ya goin' Edward? We still got 20 minutes of Edward action." Emmett dramatized his point by flailing the BudLight every which way and a few vulgar gestures.

Had I really been able to stomach the movie for 10 minutes? Ten minutes that would have been better spent on studying for exams, unpacking, or finding a Father's Day present for Carlilse.

"I can be doing better things than this," I said truthfully. I glanced at the screen. Definitely couldn't nor would stomach much more.

Emmett rolled his eyes, which had little affect seeing as how is eyes still followed the action. "C'mon, Edward lighten up."

"It's dehumanizing and revolting."

Finally Emmett's eyes slipped off the screen and instead looked disbelieving at me. I crossed my arms and attempted to glare, an affect completely lost as one of the actresses gave a particularly high pitched moan.

"You need to get laid, not like with the Hawaiian flowers, like sex laid. You need sex, doctor prescribed sex." Emmett looked at the ceiling for a moment as though deep in thought. "Maybe your dad can write you a prescription."

I began to splutter and my arms loosened and fell to my side. All the while I was wondering what nonsense went through Emmett's Neanderthal brain.

"Carlisle can't write sex prescriptions! There's no such thing, but that is beside the point. I don't need to 'get laid'," I said, using hand quotes. "I am perfectly content." I think.

Emmett raised a brow. "You're Right, Edward." Had I won that quickly? Emmett usually argued for hours in determination that he win, even if he sounded like an imbecile. "You need a girlfriend, one you can have sex with."

I grunted and shrugged non-commitingly. There was no use arguing with a determined Emmett. "I'm unpacking." I told him, averting to my eyes so they wouldn't catch any more unwanted glimpses from the TV. I turned around and vaguely heard Emmett yell either 'lighten up' or 'I need more beer' both were likely.

Maybe I did need to lighten up, not take things so seriously. I didn't need to take all honor classes, or 18 credits per term or have everything compulsively neat. Emmett was able to save an essay for two hours before it was due. Me? I would've had it done the same day it was assigned. No, I had never let Emmett pry into my head before and I couldn't start now.

I just needed a break. That was it. No girlfriend's or sex, just a nice break.

I turned the corner and walked down the hallway that seemed to cave around me-- wanting to swallow me. Underneath me I could hear the vague sounds and beats of sleazy, beat-filled music. And the men, the cheering men. Because Emmett and I chose a dump for an apartment, one that was just above a strip club known as 'Cabaret'. Not one part of the 'living above a strip club' scenario was a comfort.

Emmett had always tried to jest that we'd "always know which building was ours"; the Cabaret building was painted obnoxious shades of pink, blue, yellow, and oranges. The inside was just as pleasant. The hallways were murky shades of lime green and inside the apartments were a wide variety of colors-- all clashing.

Shaking my head, shamefully, I reached my own bedroom at the end of the hall, turned the rusting handle on the door, and shoved the door open with my shoulder. This was most definitely not good for my shoulder.

The door opened and I wish that relief could be the first thing I felt for finally being home.

Spider webs and dust greeted me, seeing as how this apartment hadn't been occupied for two or three years there was copious amounts of clean-up that needed to be done. And then unpacking. I flipped on the light switch to find a bare dead bulb to greet me. My jaw clenched and I shoved open the blinds.

The moon shone in and cast contrasting shadows. It was quite a beautiful view of Portland if I only looked up, but for the most part I had a view of the Gospel Union Rescue Mission with a line of worn hobos sitting in a consecutive line, passing a bottle to one another. My top lip lifted and curled while my jaw dropped a little.

If it weren't for Emmett we wouldn't be in this situation. If Emmett hadn't slept with our managers daughter, whom he insisted he didn't know was a minor, then we wouldn't have been forced to leave out old apartments. I couldn't help but feel resentment towards Emmett. Even if the rent on the old apartments was ridiculously high, we were forced to resort to eating ramen, tomato soup, and crackers.

At least on 21st avenue, I could honestly say that I didn't live above a strip club. Starvation and malnutrition would have been worth it tenfold.

Untrue to my word I unpacked nothing, instead laying on my leather couch that was much too big for the small room. Below I heard the indignation from the rambunctious crowd and sultry music, I assumed there was a solo cabaret strip-tease to go along with it. I swallowed and tried not to think of such vulgar thoughts. Emmett was wrong. All I needed was a break. Right?

I closed my eyes. The beats of music began to fade vaguely I heard Emmett's cat-calls, but ignored them. Sleeping in new places was something I abhorred doing. It always felt uncomfortably and stiff. But this instance was different I could feel myself falling into a soothing lullaby. Exhaustion must have finally gotten a hold of me.

I let loose a last yawn before drifting.

OoOoOoOo

The next day was devoted to unpacking. Only one thing that was rewarding about unpacking was watching the square boxes diminish and become flat. Eventually that was no longer worth it. Blaring music could only help motivate so much.

Emmett's music filled the entire apartment (and if I was not mistaken, the neighbors apartments too) which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Emmett's taste in music consisted of whatever was 'in' rather than a particular genre.

Many occasions I'd try to play classical which never lasted long. Within seconds it would be replaced with something marginally less tasteful.

"Beer?" Emmett held two Budlight in hand. He'd switched to 'light' a few months back after he'd gained 15 lbs (beer calories alone). Though I never understood the novelty of beer or alcohol in general. Wine left my throat dry for hours, vodka has the consistency of slime, while beer was retched, the taste being as disgusting as the smell. On the other hand Emmett enjoyed any kind of booze and was very partial to sacrificing his dignity because of it.

I look at him and lift an eyebrow, I'd denied liquor enough times to realize I despised the stuff.

"Suite yourself," Emmett shrugged and chugged his own beer then made a face. "Not nearly as satisfying as the un-light stuff."

The day droned on like clockwork. Every hour Emmett would loudly complain, I would ignore him (and if eye contact were possible, then I'd glare at him), then he'd grab a beer and shut up for an hour then the unfortunate cycle would continue.

Throughout the day the apartment began to look more messy than when we originally started. Seeing as the contents of the boxes were making their way out.

It was dusk, the surround sound of the gentlemen club below vibrated the wood floors, only then did Emmett decide that we had done enough work for the day "and we ought to get out and round the town".

The answer 'no' was so close to being said, when the vibration of the floor was also accompanied with cheers and music. Thus we rummaged through the various piles until finding coats, then left the apartment. Outside the side door and saw a line of men (some girls), on one side of the Cabaret then the Union Gospel Mission on the other side, lining the outside.

Emmett's usual slow stroll now was a quick hustle. Women cat called and jeered some drunk, some high, and some hollow looking.

oOoOoOo

"Hungry?" Emmett had yet to touch his food, the noodles sat in front of him, the steam ebbing away.

Emmett sighed, not answering the hidden question of 'what's bothering you?' and ate.

After five minutes the silence still hung, suffocatingly. "After this," my ears perked and I continued to chew."We should rent porn." Emmett suddenly stated, a Cheshire grin adorning his face.

I began to choke. Afterward not sure whether from dismay or laughter.

OoOoOo

That night I couldn't sleep. Despite my pounding headache, the back of my eyes aching, and pure physical exhaustion, sleep eluded. After hours of laying down, I grudgingly rolled off of the couch turned on the light, and inspected my new room. Something I had yet to do.

Dirty windows, popcorn ceiling, dinged up walls that were freshly painted a light shade of beige, poorly finished wood. My mind paused and upon no real approval from my rational mind-set I began shoving everything onto my couch until the floors were barren.

Numerous wood spots littered around. All of them with the glossy finish rubbed off.

"What the..." I trailed off and crouched onto the floor. I didn't understand my fascination with the ruined floor. It could have been anything that caused it. Such as being poorly maintained, accidental bleach spill... I tried to suppress the one word that continuously surfaced in my mind: blood.

Judging from the stains, a lot of it, too.

"Edward, why the hell are you in my room?" Emmett asked, his eyes squinting. "Fuck, man, turn off the light."

I opened my mouth, closed it and opened it again. I want to tell him of my fears, what I believe to have discovered. When I didn't say anything Emmett sat up in his bed. "What?"

"I..." Emmett raised his eyebrows. "I forgot, oops." I grin, rubbing the back of my neck.

Emmett didn't seem amused. He flopped back under the covers. Mumbling "turn off the light and get outta my room"

I close the door, unsteady and unsure.

END Chapter One

A/N: Allo, allo. Finally, chapter one is done and two is on its way. Originally I was going to have this story BETA'd. Call me lazy, but when I saw hundreds of BETA's for Twilight alone, I shriveled up, died inside and said a resounding 'no'. So, if anyone knows a good Twilight BETA that would be superb and if you could PM me, that would be even more fantabulous.

Suggestions are always welcome.