Reposting this since it was taken off by FFn a few months ago. I will be reposting chapters weekly, every Friday night.

For those of you who hadn't started reading this before it was deleted, welcome and I hope you enjoy this story. Fair warning, it will be sad in places and I will not shy away from Bella's hard life on the streets. Just keep in mind that it's one of my rules to always have a HEA.

BPOV

I was sitting in one of the back alleys, huddled up in a tight ball trying to keep the stinging wind out of my face and away from my body. The smell coming from the dumpster a few feet away was killing me, but it was helping to block the wind from me, so I had to grin and bear it for now.

I looked around and saw no one was there, everyone like me that normally would have been out prowling the streets for things I shuddered at, were probably somewhere trying to keep warm too.

It was one of those nights that were cold and unforgiving. Not many of those came around, thank God, but when they did, it was horrible.

At least it's not raining, I thought sourly.

This had been my life for nearly four years. I think it was four years anyway. I tended to lose count, not having anything to keep track of the passing days. Time drags on forever when you live on the streets. When you have no food, no water, nowhere to sleep at night, no blankets or heaters to keep you warm, no family or friends to spend your days or nights with.

I could only tell the days because every few weeks, I would stop at a newspaper stand and looked at the date on one of the papers.

All you could do was walk around aimlessly, pray that no one would give you a hard time so you could find something decent to eat in a trashcan and a dry place to sleep as soon as possible. That isn't always the way it worked out though. There had been many times that a man, homeless like me, or just a dickhead wandering around, had grabbed me and… done things that I had been helpless to stop. I mean really, I was 5'4" and about 100lbs, what was I going to do against a man twice my size? Not much, that's what.

Unfortunately, I have been raped a few times, but I saw it as a part of this life. I just picked myself up and tried to be strong until I found someplace where I could lay down and cry it all out for a while and then get back up and keep going. I was very good at locking things away in the back of my mind and ignoring them.

Now I was just trying to stay fucking warm. Not an easy feat when it is freezing outside and all I have on is a thin t-shirt, a hoodie and a pair of near threadbare jeans. I looked up at the dark sky and began to count the stars. Counting stars always helped me sleep, it reminded me that there was other, bigger things out there. That there was still hope for something.

I managed to count to about fifty before my eyes began to droop close and I slipped into the dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~HV~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I woke up suddenly, jerking out of the dream I was having. More of a nightmare actually, but whatever.

I looked around groggily, a routine I had developed years ago to make sure that no one was around me that was a potential danger.

I didn't see anyone so I relaxed and breathed in and out deeply a few times to calm my erratic heartbeat. The nightmares never disappeared, never faded, it was terrible. I kept reliving that last day over and over, I hated it. I wanted it to go away and never come back, to leave me in peace, but I obviously couldn't be so lucky.

I stood up, stretching my aching muscles and leaned down to pick up my backpack. It was the only thing I had left of my old life. It held a few changes of clothes, a tooth brush, my hairbrush, my notebook and a few pens, and my prized possession; my mother's wedding ring. I kept it safely in a smaller, hidden pocket on the inside of my bag.

I never wore it because I was afraid it would either get dirty or it would slip off my finger and I would never find it again. Plus, it was like a three karat diamond and was very sparkly, and big and sparkly on the streets was just asking for someone to run up and rip it off my finger and do god only knows what to me in the process.

I wasn't willing to risk it just so I could wear a shiny diamond. I may be homeless, but stupidity wasn't the reason why.

I hiked my bag over my shoulder and started walking to my usual morning spot, dragging my tore up chucks along the pavement.

Every morning that I am able to I walk to the coffee shop on 69th street - Cullen's Coffee. The owner was a sweet woman named Esme who had befriended me. It was my favorite coffee shop, way better then that generic Starbucks crap. I rarely had the money to buy anything except maybe a couple small coffees every month, so I would sit just outside the door and breath in the delicious aromas wafting out as customers came and went. It was the perfect place to write, so I got comfortable and pulled my notebook and a pen out of my backpack. Mostly I wrote songs, sad songs, happy songs, confusing songs, hateful songs. Basically whatever I was feeling in that particular moment, I put it down in song form.

I was writing down my latest song as I listened to the people walking by, ignoring me as usual. No one wanted to acknowledge or help the weird, dirty, homeless girl, and that was perfectly fine with me.

The last time someone tried to 'help me', he wanted to help me into his bed. Do I look like fucking Julia Roberts to you? No.

Although, he didn't really care if I was a willing participant or not, 'cause he had me in his bed, fucking me… raping me… whatever you wanted to call it.

I told him no dozens of times, that whatever he was going to give me in exchange wasn't worth it. He was about halfway through when I screamed out that I was sixteen and apparently, even he had standards for not raping underage girls, because he stopped, waited until I put my clothes back on and threw me out of his apartment, handed me $300 and told me to never come back. No problem asshat.

I sighed and blocked those memories out. That little incident had happened almost two years ago, you think I'd be over it by now.

I kept writing for what felt like about an hour and I finally had completed another song. I looked it over a few times to see if I needed to improve upon it.

It's a harder way and it's come to claim her
And I always say, we should be together
And I can see below, 'cause there's something in here
And if you are gone, I will not belong here

And I started to hear it again
But this time it wasn't the end
And the room is so quiet,

And my heart is a hollow plain
For the devil to dance again
And the room is too quiet,

I was looking for the breath of a life
A little touch of a heavenly light
But all the choirs in my head sang, no

I smiled to myself as I went through the lines; it was perfect. One of my better songs if I do say so myself, it had depth to it. And surprisingly hopeful for the mood I was in.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, just breathing in the amazing coffee smell. I started to hummed the tune I envisioned in my head for the song I just wrote down, then I went back and began to sing the words out loud with the tune still going in my head.

I was halfway finished with the song when I felt a presence next to me. Out of instinct, I snapped my eyes open and jumped up, taking a defensive position.

A couple feet away from me, I found the source of the unwanted presence. It was a man, not just your everyday, run of the mill guy, this guy was hot. I don't say that about a lot of guys, actually, I don't think I've ever said that about any guy.

This man was something else entirely; he was tall, around 6'2" - 6'4", but lean and muscled, like a cross between a swimmer and a soccer player. Broad shoulders and tapered waist, long legs that I'm sure were just as muscled as the rest of him. His obviously well kept body was covered by a charcoal gray suit. He had on a black undershirt, with the first two buttons undone and he wasn't wearing a tie.

His hair caught my attention next, it was a shocking color of bronze, like a penny. I'd never seen that hair color on anyone before. Did he dye it to make it that way? It was everywhere, sticking out all over the place, like he woke up and ran his hands through it trying to tame it, but failed and gave up when he couldn't find a brush.

His face… oh good God his face. It was a thing of beauty. Strong, defiant jaw, with slight stubble, cheekbones any male supermodel would kill for, a straight, manly nose, and piercing eyes that made me feel all warm inside. They were green, the color of a bright green candy apple.

As good looking as this strange man may be, he was even more of a danger to me than any other man out there. You know why? Because I actually wanted to be with this man, and I'm not talking about just sex, I definitely don't want that. I wanted to sit and talk to this man, to know about him, what makes him tick, what his interests are what the hell he's doing here standing in front of me looking at me like I'm something interesting.

"What do you want?" I demanded, eyeing him cautiously, not knowing what he wanted with me.

He stared at me for a few moments longer before his eyes regained focus and he tilted his head slightly to the left.

"Your voice… it's beautiful." He murmured. I almost didn't hear it.

"W-what?" I stuttered. I had been on the streets for years, and had been writing and singing for about the entire time. I had people walk past me and tell me I was good and give me a few bucks here and there, hell, it was probably the only thing that kept me alive, but I never had anyone say my voice was beautiful.

That was a new one.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Edward Cullen." He stepped forward with his hand stretched out, but when I took a step back and stared at his hand like it was a snake about to lunge and bite me, he lowered it and stepped back.

Then his name fully registered in my mind; Edward Cullen. Cullen… like Cullen's Coffee? Did he own the coffee shop with Esme?

"And? What do you want?" I snipped at him. I didn't mean to, but he was a man I found attractive and he was a little too close for my comfort. Not a good combination for my safety.

"Well, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I walked out of the shop and you were singing, and I have to say it was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, and that's saying something." He mumbled the last four words.

"What do you mean 'that's saying something'?" I was curious.

"See, I'm a record producer. I hear people sing all the time, it's my job, but you have something I've never heard before. It's almost like an angel." He mused.

This guy had guts. I have heard a lot of lines over my time out here, but this was a new one. I give you an 'A' for originality sir, but it isn't gonna work.

I laughed at him until I saw the confused look on his adorable face.

"That… that's a new one." I giggled.

"What do you mean?" His brow was furrowed.

"Look, what was it – Edward? I'm not going to fall for your little line or whatever it is you've got going on here." I picked up my bag off the ground and turned around to start walking.

I could feel him walking after me.

"Wait! No, I swear I'm not trying to pick you up or give you a line. I can prove that I'm what I say I am. My mother, she owns the coffee shop you were sitting outside of, please, go in and ask her if she knows who I am." He pleaded with me.

I stopped mid-stride. There was something in his voice that made me want to at least go in and ask if he was for real.

I turned back to him slowly and saw that his face was crunched together and he was holding both of his hands out toward me, but not close enough to make me uncomfortable.

"Fine, I'll go in and ask." I muttered and walked past him quickly, making sure to keep some space between us as I did.

I opened the door to the shop, breathing in the strong coffee aroma. I had been in here a few times, but it was usually when I was cleaner. I realized that I probably looked horrible, not having gone down to the shelter for a quick shower for a couple of days.

I spotted Esme behind the bakery stand with her head down, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. I had talked to her every time I came in, she was the nicest person I have ever met. She would sit down and talk to me and tell me about her family, or how sometimes owning the coffee shop was stressful, and she always listened to me talk about trivial little things. She was also the only person who I have ever let look at my songs. She thought they were amazing and would smile and gush about how I was so talented. Esme she was almost like a mother to me, or at the very least, a doting aunt.

I would order a cup of coffee and on my way out she would hand me a doughnut or a bagel and tell me if I tried to pay for it, she would take it as a personal insult.

I never wanted to insult Esme in any way.

I also knew that if I asked her if this Edward guy was really who he says he is, she wouldn't lie to me. Was she really Edwards' mother? Now that I thought about it, Esme's hair was almost the same color as Edwards, it was just a few shades lighter.

I walked up to the counter in front of her and she looked up at me, surprised.

"Bella, oh I didn't know you were coming today! I just made a fresh pot of the caramel coffee, would you like a cup?" She asked as only Esme could ask, all sweet and mothering.

"Umm... no Esme, that's not why I'm here actually." I said, looking down at my fingers that splayed on the counter.

"Is something wrong Bella? I told you I'll help you with anything, just say it, sweetie." She asked concerned.

"No, nothing's wrong, I think." I reassured her. "I just had a question I wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead Bella." She encouraged.

"Well that man outside," I pointed to where Edward was standing, talking on his cell phone.

"Oh, you mean Edward? Did he do something to upset you? I swear, that boy can be so blunt sometimes, he means well and all, but he just doesn't have much of a filter." Esme tsked and wrote something else down on the paper.

"Is he your son?" I asked.

"Yes, one of two. Edward's the younger, his brother Emmett is older by two years." She told me.

So he was telling the truth, at least he was Esme's son, but was he a record producer like he said?

"He told me he's a record producer… is he?" I asked timidly. I was afraid that Esme would be offended that I thought her son was a liar.

"Yep. He owns the big recording studio downtown, Eclipse Records. His best friend, a nice young man named Jasper Hale is his partner in the company." She said proudly, like any parent who's son owned the best record studio in the northwest.

I'd heard of Eclipse Records, the company had signed many artists over the years and made them famous with number one hits within the first year of their contracts. The company was created when I was eleven and it brought me many of my favorite bands during my younger teen years and up until I started living on the streets.

"Why do you want to know sweetie?" Esme asked me, causing me to snap my eyes back into focus.

"Well, he umm... He heard me singing outside and he said I was really good. He told me who he was and what he did and I didn't believe him, so he told me to come in hear and ask you, his mother." I explained softly, playing with my fingers.

"Oh sweetie, don't worry, he's telling the truth. I don't think that boy has lied to a woman a day in his life. Well, not counting his teenage years with me." She laughed, obviously remembering something. "Trust me, he won't hurt you. He's probably just curious, that's all. Go talk to him and tell him I said that if he says anything to upset you, I'm gonna tell his father." She smiled and winked.

I smiled a little, now that I knew Edward was telling the truth and Esme said he wouldn't try anything with me, I felt a bit better about going to talk to him to see what he wants.

"Thank you Esme, I guess I better go back out and see what he wants." I said and started to turn around.

Esme stopped me though and handed me a jelly doughnut.

"Esme I ca-"

"No, Bella. You take that and you eat it." She demanded in her sternest mother voice. Why couldn't my mother have been like that in the end? Cared more. Loved me even half as much as Esme cares about me.

I sighed, but smiled at her and took a bite, strawberry jelly gushing into my mouth. She smirked and said goodbye as I walked out the door.

Edward was still on his phone and could hear what he was saying.

"No man, this isn't like the thing with Irina. She's actually really, really good. She's amazing, trust me, Jazz." He was speaking forcefully into the phone, running his left hand through his hair.

So that's why it looks like he just rolled out of bed.

I cleared my throat and he spun around, said something into the phone that I couldn't hear and snapped it shut.

"Esme said that you were telling the truth. Now, what do you want?" I asked him shortly. I didn't want to spend my time talking to this man if I didn't have to.

He took a step towards me but stopped when I frowned and stepped back.

"Can we sit down on the bench and talk about it?" He asked pointing toward a bench a few feet away.

"Fine." I mumbled and walked past him, plopping down on the bench, wincing as I did because everything was sore, especially my ass, considering it had sat on cold, rough concrete all night long.

He sat down next to me slowly and I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

"Umm… sorry, but I didn't catch your name." He said softly.

God, was he always nice?

"My name's Bella." I said, looking down at my chucks. They were so torn up and dirty. I've been wearing them since I left home four years ago. I was honestly surprised that I couldn't see my toes through the ends yet.

"Doesn't surprise me." Edward murmured.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing." He covered quickly and ran his hand through his hair again. Must be a habit he has or something.

"Bella, I have a sort of job offer for you." He started out with.

"What do you mean, a job offer? This isn't like a sex thing or anything, 'cause I may be homeless, but I'm not a hooker." I spat the last part a little angrily. Men always thought that because I was homeless, they could pay me for sex and treat me like a hooker. I wasn't that desperate, but God I dreaded the day that I would be.

"No! No, god no! I don't mean it like that. I mean not that I wouldn't, you're very pretty, but I wouldn't do that to you or to any girl for that matter! I just wanted to ask you if you would like to come down to the studio and try something out. You have one of the best voices I've ever heard and I would love it if you would come down and record something." Edward rushed out. I was afraid for a second that he would pass out from not breathing. His face was already turning a little red.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to come with you down to your big-shot record studio and do what? Sing something? Just like that? Aren't you going to ask more about me? My last name, how old I am, what the hell happened to me?" I spouted of at him, a little flustered.

"Yes I want you to come to my studio with me and record something, just like that. And as for everything else, you know, we don't have to tell each other everything within the first few minutes that we're talking to one another." He smiled this sexy crooked smile. It made my heart flutter.

Was this guy seriously offering what he was offering? I didn't want to believe it for one second.

"Please, you don't have to do anything for sure, just come down with me and check things out. See what it's all about. And there will be nothing sexual involved whatsoever, I won't even touch you in anyway at all if you don't want me to do, I promise." He pleaded. It was kinda cute when he pleaded with me and something about his tone of voice made me believe he wouldn't go back on his word.

"I can leave anytime I want to?" I asked him.

"Yes." He assured me.

I looked down at my hands and thought it over for a minute. If I went with him, at least it would be a few hours off the street and away from the cold. What could it hurt, really? I looked down at my backpack and thought about my mothers' ring. Which made me think about my mother. My mom had always wanted me to do something with my life. The least I could do for her was give this thing a chance. Why waste an opportunity that was put in front of me like this? Edward was Esme's son, I knew that Esme wouldn't have raised him to be one of those vile men that I hated. Like... like him.

The worst that could happen would be that he'd get me in there and he would realize that I sucked and threw me back out on the street.

I turned to Edward. "Alright, I'll give it a try."

His face lit up and put his crooked smile in place.

"That's great! Thank you, I promise this will be good, Bella." He stood up. "I just need to make a call to my driver so he can bring the car around." Edward excused himself and dialed a number on his phone.

A driver? Pull the car around? What the fuck? Was he that loaded?

Edward flipped his phone shut and a couple seconds later a black limo pulled up a few feet away.

My jaw came unhinged and my eyes about popped out of my head.

"Bella do you want to get in?" Edward asked as the driver opened the backdoor for us.

I stood up slowly, my eyes still wide, grabbed my bag and clutched it to my chest and walked over to the limo.

The driver nodded at me politely as I slid in. A few seconds after, Edward slid in beside me, still managing to keep about a foot in between us.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

What does everyone think? What do you think of our Edward and Bella? I think Bella needs a hug, but that's me.

Hit that little button down there and tell me what you think, please!