Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!

Hi everyone.

I am not going to make any excuses for myself. I had every intention to continue the story; this chapter has been sitting unfinished on my computer since June. But I struggled to finish it. I don't know what it was. Creatively, I just couldn't get myself to write it. I am so sorry, and I apologise for the horrible excuse. I was not going to post a chapter that I wasn't 100% with.

However, I am back and I want to reassure you – this story, although taking a while to write, will be finished. I have every intention in finishing.

Thank you to all of those readers who have stuck with me – who continue to favourite, follow and review. It is you guys who made me what to finish this chapter.

I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and it does not disappoint! I will be posting the next chapter this time next week so keep a look out.

Love you all.

15.

BPOV

"Everyone's staring."

"No, not that guy. He just looked."

I chuckle nervously – but the laughter does little to dispel my anxiety. I catch a few people staring at Edward, licking their lips. He looks so handsome, with strands of his bronze hair falling into view and his green eyes so alive.

Others critically rake their eyes up and down my body, probably wondering why this Adonis is with me. Their glares burn through me.

In a futile attempt to distract myself, I start by scanning the room; it's a bizarre scene, to say the least.

Jackie O waltzes with Clark Kent. The Mad Hatter laughs along with Mary Poppins. Gatsby sips champagne next to Jessica Rabbit. Witches mingle with werewolves.

The crowd is a colourful and diverse display; and a genuine giggle falls from my lips at the surreal-ness of it all, especially when I catch the weird sight of a Jon Snow chatting up an Eleven from Stranger Things.

God I love Halloween.

The room is grand and ornate, complete with marble columns and statues. The cream and gold colour scheme of the lobby continues, exempting the rich maroon carpet that lines the dance floor.

The windows that line the walls are at least fifteen feet tall, garnished with red roses and orange marigolds. The same flowers feature as centrepieces on the round tables alongside golden candelabras. There is also a large stage set on the north side of the room, similarly decorated.

The masses of flowers surround an unfamiliar band dressed as vampires, their music swallowing the chatter of the room. They're good, working the hordes with popular, well-known hits.

Waiters in black waistcoats sidle through clusters of guests with refreshments and flutes of champagne; couples twirl around on the dance floor elegantly, and groups of socialites gossip on the tables that are scattered around the room.

Everything about the aesthetic screams opulence and for a moment – the distasteful gazes are the least of my worries. No… the true concern is, where do I fit in within this world? I'm a college student; I work in a bookstore; I own three pieces of designer clothing; back home, I own a rusted Chevy. Nothing about my life is glamorous.

I lose my train of thought when Edward and I finally reach the end of the staircase. I can feel the clamminess of my palms escalate and my teeth are desperate to gnaw on my lip. Somehow, I manage to maintain my cool façade despite the chaos raging in my brain and focus on Edward's comforting fingers drawing circles on my lower back.

"Bella?"

"Mmm?" I hum, avoiding the glower of a particularly shameless observer.

"I asked if you wanted anything to drink?"

Although alcohol would be a great way to loosen up right now, it has never been my greatest friend. I am very much a lightweight, and the last thing I need is to meet Esme when I am intoxicated.

"No, maybe in a bit."

A loud laugh echoes to my right, making me jump a little.

Am I being paranoid, or was she just looking at me?

Edward grips me as I stumble from my brief stupor.

"Whoa, careful. It's like you're in your own world… You okay?"

"I think so… just overwhelmed, to be honest."

He pulls back at the slight quiver in my tone, his eyes searching my face. Whatever he finds must leave him dissatisfied, because he then tugs my hand towards a dimly lit hallway, beneath the archway of the double staircase.

Hidden behind a marble column, I lean against a wall, releasing a deep breathe and immediately the weight of people's stares alleviates. Meanwhile, Edward's hands press against the wall either side of my face. He is so close that I can feel his breathe against my cheek, all warm and minty.

"We can leave if you want, just say the word."

He looks at me with such sincerity and concern, that I know – if I voiced any uncertainty over being here, he would whisk me far away from this place

Really, I would kill to get out of these clothes. To envelop Edward like bubble wrap and protect him from the vultures he calls family but I know that that would do far more harm than good.

For one thing, Edward would get an ear full from Esme if he ditched this party with me. He had told me bits and pieces of their conversation the night after my Ball and from the sounds of it, she didn't take his departure lightly. According to Edward, it involved a lot of screaming and "empty" threats.

Other than that, he had brushed the whole thing off; saying it was worth it in the end. But the fragmented and vague description of the exchange, told me that Edward had toned down the argument for my benefit. As if he wanted to protect me from Esme and her words.

Basically – there is no way in hell, that I'm allowing him to face another wrath of Esme Cullen because of me.

Cupping his cheek, I shake my head ruefully "you know that we can't do that."

He holds my hand to his face, turning to kiss the inside of my palm. The action makes my breath catch, "You are my first priority Bella, you always have been."

I lean my head into his chest, inhaling. His scent – all woodsy and masculine, instantly relaxes me. I close my eyes, basking in this small slice of heaven and for a second, I imagine that we are back in my apartment, in my bed.

This morning had been amazing as Edward had the day off and with it being a Saturday, there was no prospect of school. We spent the whole time, sharing lazy kisses and making love and whispering to each other beneath tangled sheets; diving deeper into our pasts, as well as our hopes and dreams for the future. And, while neither of us can predict what will happen, it became clear – both of us do not see a future without the other one in it.

I could easily stay here in our little bubble, reminiscing about our start to the day… but I'm too aware of where we are. Of all the people here… all the rich, successful, upper class people. I pull self-consciously at my skirt, remembering the women's disdainful glares. Suddenly, I am more aware of its tightness and the slit that runs up my thigh provocatively.

Edward being Edward immediately catches on to my discomfort.

"Bell? What's up?"

"It's nothing."

I go to move away from him, as if this would hide my scepticism.

Not the time or place, Swan.

Edward doesn't allow me to move an inch, his arms forming an iron cage around me "Baby, tell me what's wrong. This is more than you feeling overwhelmed."

"I just…" I look at our feet embarrassed "I don't know. I guess I'm feeling like a fish out of water. You have grown up around these sorts of people your whole life Edward, all these rich and successful people. Me? I'm just some nobody – "

"I'm going to stop you right there, Isabella."

I feel his fingers hook beneath my chin, forcing my gaze to his. Even in this light, his eyes are stormy and his lips are set in a firm line.

"How can you say that? Bella, these people – they are social climbers. Whatever money most of them possess, was off the back of their ancestors; they just reap the benefits. They are upper class snobs, not royalty."

Then his features soften, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek "and have you even looked in the mirror lately? You are successful. You are set to graduate at the top of your class with a first class degree. You have impressed one of the greatest editors within the industry."

He leans forward pressing a light kiss against my lips; the next words dusting across my skin "And Bella, you're the woman I love. You are certainly not a nobody."

My heart threatens to burst at the ferocious faith he has within me. His absolute belief in me is such a turn on – I am tempted to drag him further down the corridor by his braces, to express my gratitude to him in a very physical way. Because surely, there aren't enough words to truly express the feelings I have for him? Even those three words seem inadequate. Over-used, almost. But, they are the only thing I can come up with in such a short space of time.

"I love you. So much."

His face lights up, as if I handed him the moon. It is a look, which never fails to make me feel all warm and fuzzy. He kisses me tenderly on the cheek "I love you too. We'll leave as soon as possible, and then I'll show you just how much."

I grin at him, "then we best get this show on the road, yeah?"

He laughs, pressing another kiss to the side of my head. Entwining our fingers together, we walk back into the main area; heads held high.

"Okay," I straighten my shoulders "give me the low down."

Edward lets out a breathy chuckle, "hmm let me see…"

His eyes sweep the floor – "over there, the two guys dressed as… I think the Men in Black?"

I didn't even have to look that thoroughly to know who he is talking about; at the far left of the room, cross armed – complete with dark sunglasses – are two stern looking men. One is six foot, with dark skin and long limbs and the other is beefier and short, perhaps my age.

"Yep."

"Okay so the taller guy is Charles and the shorter one is Peter. I went to school with Charles; nice guy, but we didn't really talk much. All I remember is his granddad is a bit of a dick; owns some major company over-seas. He is one of those traditionalists, who stuff work and money down your throat. Peter is Charles's step-cousin and Jasper's friend, from Columbia."

My eyes widen in recognition, a light bulb flickering "he's the one that got us into Rosalie's penthouse party?"

Edward nods, "Probably. Peter's father is the Dean of Columbia and a close friend of Esme's. You wouldn't believe how long Esme tried to set him up with Rose. Then of course Royce came along and Peter was long forgotten."

"You don't like Royce." I say without thinking, instantly seeing the tension in his frame.

His eyes widen in surprise at my quick analysis – "you can be a bit scary sometimes…"

"Why don't you like him? Doesn't everyone love Royce King?"

"Uh, uh" Edward tsks, "everyone loves Henry Slater. There's a difference."

Royce King shot to stardom for playing Henry Slater in a 'Downton Abbey-esque' British period drama. A charismatic and lovable rogue, the role eventually won Royce a BAFTA. He played him for four years, before some sort of plague controversially killed off the character. People still rage about his demise today, and thousands have even petitioned to bring Henry back in future episodes.

"Royce… he is arrogant and self-entitled."

"I remember thinking someone else was very arrogant when I first met him…"

Edward looks at me with mock hurt – "I was never arrogant, that is called confidence Swan!"

"Yeah, yeah. So Royce is an asshole."

"Basically." Edward sighs, "Meeting him, you wouldn't think much else. He's really quite shallow, spoilt and two-dimensional. But… I don't know."

I eye him, "You don't trust him."

"There's just something I don't like about him. I can't put my finger on it."

"Is he here tonight?"

He shakes his head, "he's filming in Hawaii. You've dodged a bullet, believe me."

"Okay… so who else should I avoid at all costs?"

Edward smirks at me, "Well I wouldn't recommend the couple over by the dance floor."

"Which one?"

"The only ones in the whole room who have forgone costumes."

I follow his line of vision, "The man in the burgundy suit with the blonde in the green dress?"

He nods. To be honest, I wouldn't approach them anyway – there was this intimidating air around them; it screamed 'we are above everyone here.'

They are undoubtedly a handsome couple, and obviously extremely wealthy. He is dressed in a velvet suit and matching shoes, his dark dreads covered with a fedora hat. He stands next to a tall woman, who has at least three inches on him (although this could be because of the stilettos she is wearing). Her green dress runs over her skinny body, like water. A cream, fur wrap folded over her forearms.

"The man is Laurent Brisbois…"

My eyes widen, "As in the French fashion designer?"

Edward looks at me shocked; knowing my lack of interest in fashion but I roll my eyes at him "My best friend is Alice, remember?"

He nods empathetically, "right. Well next to him is his wife Irina Volkov, the Russian supermodel."

"Okay…"

"Well, he was married to a woman called Sasha for twenty-two years. An old friend of Esme's."

I stare at him blankly, not seeing where he is going "so he isn't with that Irina girl."

"Oh he is. He left Sasha for her. But here's the kicker – Sasha is Irina's mother."

My eyes shoot back to the couple; "so wait… she's his step-daughter?"

"Ex-stepdaughter. They've been married for three years now, although there has been allegations that he cheated on Irina with her younger sister Tanya."

"Jesus," I breathe – eyes locked on the pair "It all sounds so… incestuous."

"Tanya is actually here as well, she's the one on the table nearest to the stage. The strawberry blonde."

I zone in on the table in question. 'Tanya' is dressed as a mermaid – shells and blue glitter sprinkled throughout her wavy hair. She is beyond gorgeous and again, I feel so out of my depth.

"Is Sasha here too?"

"She has been shunned from social events like this."

"What?" I ask, startled "but… why is she the one being banished if she is Esme's friend? And especially if the ones who betrayed her are here."

"An old friend of Esme's."

"Huh?"

Edward attempts to run his hand through his hair, nearly knocking off his hat.

"Esme decides who comes to these things, and Sasha in considered a sham in this world. After Laurent left her, she went into this deep meltdown. A 'midlife crisis' as Esme puts it." Edward's face scrunches up in disgust at Esme's cruelty, "She blew all the money she got out of divorce settlement, and went to clubs, sleeping with a load of guys. She eventually got pregnant by some twenty year old student, and no one has really heard from her since."

I look back at Irina and Laurent with fresh eyes. I try to imagine how her mother feels, every time she sees her daughter and ex husband together, at events that she probably attended, with friends who may have gone to their wedding.

"This sounds like a storyline straight out of Gossip Girl."

"I am going to pretend like I know what you're talking about."

"Gossip Girl! You must've heard of it, we live in New York for crying out loud."

"Hey, you never heard of Suits until I brought it up."

I poke my finger hard into his chest, playfully; his eyes dance with humour.

"Okay, okay. Smartass."

His arms encircle my waist and his laughter makes us both shake. In our silly haze, I notice that the revulsion in people's stares have melted into curiosity, although nobody tries to approach us. Foolishly, I begin to believe that it will stay like this for the rest of the evening. Him telling me all the gossip, with soft touches and adoring kisses.

Fuck, I wish.

"Anthony. You're late."

I instantly feel Edward's posture stiffen, and his wandering hands pause their perusal of my back. Tilting my chin back, I try to look into his eyes – to reassure him.

This time he isn't alone. He has me by his side, and nothing this woman could do or say would tear me away from him.

It is shocking and mildly concerning to see the contortion of Edward's face – my Edward – into the cold mask of Anthony Cullen. His jaw locks and his lips form into one thin line, like a grimace. His eyes, that usually sparkle with mischief has disappeared; they looked guarded, locked behind me, steely.

I turn quickly to identify the culprit of his anxiety.

"Esme."

Dressed as Cleopatra, Esme Cullen revels in her regal role. There is almost an ethereal beauty about her, as her long white dress billows around her ankles. It is nearly the same colour of her skin, which is flawless porcelain, void of any lines or sags. The shade of her eyebrows indicates that she is a redhead like Edward but her hair is invisible, due to a silky black wig and elaborate, golden headpiece.

Yet, there is also something inheriently… ugly about her. Perhaps it is the lack of lines on her face. While I'm not against surgery, I have never quite understood the desire behind it. I have always thought that every single line told a story. With my father, the laugh lines stand for every happy memory of my childhood that we spent together, every joke he's shared with Mark and Wayland, every moment he has had with Sue. Even his frown lines, which represent the times he worried about me having a boyfriend in high school and riding on my motorcycle.

But, none of that is visible of Esme Cullen's face. It is empty, a shell.

Her ruby red smile is neither happy nor joyful at seeing her adopted son. It is so fake, a show for all the people who are watching this little family drama unfolding.

Then lastly, there are her eyes. Eyes that is so eerily similar to my Edward's, but so different. Whilst Edward's emeralds always shine with love and affection for me – Esme's eyes are cold. I have to repress a shudder at the mere thought of ever seeing Edward's like this.

"Your behaviour has been less than impressive Anthony. You have spent your whole time entertaining your… guest, and ignored mine. I thought I brought you up better than that."

I catch on to the fact that she called the people here, her guests rather than Rosalie's – despite this being her party. But I have no time to further contemplate it as Edward's fingers clench around me. This time I am the one who is soothing him.

Amazingly, his face remains blank of emotion "I am simply trying to ease Bella into this sort of environment, Esme. You know how overwhelming these things can be. Bella, this Esme – my Aunt."

Esme's lips form into a tight line at Edward's introduction of her, eyes flaring with fury. "Anthony, I am your mother. I raised you after all," her tone reeks of venom.

Edward however, just smirks at her "the day I accept that you are my mother, Esme, is the day you accept my name is Edward Mason."

I stare at Edward, pride seeping through my body. The conviction of his words is so powerful, that I swear I see Esme flinch.

She doesn't acknowledge this however, choosing to remain silent, but her glare speaks a thousand words.

"Anthony…"

"Where is Carlisle, Esme?"

Esme ruffles at the quick change of subject, her arms crossing in a gesture of defence "if you had showed up earlier, you would have seen him. Sadly, your father had to leave early for work. There was an emergency."

"Of course," Edward states coldly, "there is always an 'emergency.'"

They stare at one another, green versus green, one with disgust and defiance, the other sadistic.

Esme is the first to break the connection, with that plastic smile returning with vengeance. She turns to me, ignoring Edward's scowl.

"Bella." She says sweetly.

Let's just say – it takes everything within me, to find a cordial greeting. I try to copy that saccharine smile of hers, adding an extra dash of false sweetness to my response.

"Mrs Cullen. This is a beautiful party. You must be very proud of your daughter for hosting such a lovely event."

She looks around the room; her face still smiling but there is an underlying disapproval. It is easy to recognise through the twitch of her lips and hardening of her otherwise emotionless eyes.

"I suppose… although, the band is less than satisfactory. Singing all these… chart songs. It's beyond ridiculous. I specifically told Rosalie to book 'Meyer's Orchestra', but she left it to last minute. Stupid girl."

I stare at her blankly, disbelieving of the disrespectful way she had spoken of her only daughter. "For her to get a band this good, at such a late stage is very admirable."

Edward grins down at me, but says nothing. Esme however, appears to have swallowed a lemon.

"I guess so," she simpers through the gritted teeth of her smile "if you enjoy trashy, mainstream music."

I swallow heavily, my heart thundering in my chest.

"I have quite an eclectic taste," I shrug "Edward and I went to the Breaking Dawn festival for our first date."

Esme hums, sending daggers at Edward "how generous of him." The word 'generous' sounds like a curse from her lips.

Edwards arm tightens around my waist, "only the best for my Bella. And on that topic, I am going to get us some drinks. We'll see you later."

Without waiting for her to reply, Edward spins us in the opposite direction towards the bar. I look over my shoulder to see Esme's reaction – and I am not disappointed. The woman looks like she should be breathing fire. Her whole face, flushed a deep red, and hands clenched into tight balls at her waist.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I don't care about that woman Bella, or what she says. But if she looks at you that way again, I am going to rip her head off."

I stop, making him halt "baby, you don't have to worry about me with Esme, I can handle myself."

He exhales, "I know that, and I am so proud of how you were with her just now. Trust me when I say, I know how difficult it is to remain polite with her. Hell, you did a much better job than me."

"It took a lot," I admit "I am just glad we have dealt with her."

Edward half-smiles, "for some reason, I don't think that's the last we'll see of her tonight."

Oh well, a girl can dream.

…

"How do you put up with this?" I ask, exhaustion ebbing away at my voice. Since speaking with Esme, we had been bombarded with guests – all of whom have been desperate to meet Edward. A part of me wonders if all of this is Esme's doing, as if she is trying to keep us from descending back into our bubble.

I wouldn't put it past her.

"With difficulty. It has gotten harder as I've gotten older, to be honest. When I was young, this whole 'meet and greet' was driven into me like a second nature."

"I can't even imagine. I was such a shy kid growing up, I was always hiding behind my father's legs."

Edward chuckles, rubbing my side "Well you've definitely grown out of that stage. You have been amazing tonight Bella. I think people have preferred talking to you than me this evening."

I feel my cheeks glow at his praise, "I sincerely doubt that. They are all too caught up by your miraculous appearance."

He snorts at my observation, evidently disagreeing.

"Y'know, I think I have met at least one of Rosalie's friends tonight. The rest have been Esme and Carlisle's. What's up with that? I thought this was her party?"

When Edward turns to face me fully, I am saddened by a childlike sorrow that is visible in his features. I wrap my arms around him, propping my chin against his chest so I can still see him.

He hugs me to him gratefully, "Bella… Rose and I never had friends when we were children. Esme handpicked everyone we hung out with; the school we went to was occupied by rich or famous kids. The parties we attended were usually full of adults. Any people we did make friends with, Esme had checked out and if not approved – we were forced to disintegrate all ties with them.

That changed for me after I learned the truth about my mother. I decided Esme no longer had control over me. She never tried to contradict me, in fear that if she further pushed me, I would act out to an even bigger extent… Reputation is so important to Esme and while she kept my potential expulsion and 'small' drink problem concealed, I think she was scared of what I was capable of.

Rosalie never broke out of her control. She admires Esme too much. To Rosalie, Esme is the glamorous, beautiful mother who is highly respected in society. Who has the world at her feet. Nothing has ever deterred Rose from wanting her mother's approval."

I look over my shoulder, seeking out Rosalie.

She is apart of one of the largest groups of people within the room, making them laugh. Dressed impeccably as Marilyn Monroe. Upon sight alone, everything about Rosalie Cullen fits the costume. From her appearance, the iconic white dress that fits her body like a glove, her golden hair that has been fashioned into the layered bob and rouge lips. All the way, down to her persona with her sultry gazes, delicate laughter and high level of charisma.

No one would ever guess that behind this confident woman, is a girl desperate for her mother's affection. My heart aches for her and Edward. To grow in the clutches of such a controlling parental figure, and for Rosalie – to have not one true friend in the world...

"It's so sad. How doesn't she see it?"

He shrugs, "when it comes to this world, she sees it all through rose-tinted spectacles. Of course Rosalie has acquaintances through the modelling industry. Hell, they may even be considered as friends. But every single one of them have been pre-approved by Esme."

As I continue to watch Rosalie, a thought from earlier that day pops into my head – "Edward… has Rosalie ever met Emmett?"

The question causes Edward to withdraw from me, nonplussed.

"How… what makes you say that?"

"It's just… the way Emmett spoke about her. I asked him if he had met any of your family, and he got so defensive over her. I've never seen him shut something down so quickly before."

Edward rubs his eyes, "Rosalie and Emmett have a very… complicated history, Bella."

"What happened?"

"Honestly? I don't even know. One night, I was working at the bar where Emmett and I first met. I was in my first year at Julliard at the time, and it was probably my first taste of freedom from Esme. I was cleaning tables when Rosalie walked in.

At first, I thought it was some twisted plan of Esme's – I mean, who got their sixteen year old daughter to spy on their nineteen year old nephew in some rough bar at Brooklyn. I later found out that Rosalie and Esme had gotten into a massive fight that night, and she sought me out for understanding. But it wasn't me she ended up talking to. It was – "

"Emmett," I whisper.

He nods, looking over at Rosalie; who continues to entertain her guests without a care in the world.

"Emmett was twenty-four and Rose was sixteen so nothing romantic happened. But Rose became a frequent visitor, and her and Emmett formed a close bond. I thought she had found another brother-like figure within her life. Fuck, she was closer to him than she ever was with me. She told Emmett everything. He was like her secret-keeper or something. Then when she turned eighteen, something a lot deeper than friendship started to grow between them."

"They dated?"

Holy shit! I try to picture Em – my teddy bear with his jovial laughter and calm demeanour with the beautiful, untouchable Rosalie. They would make a picture-perfect couple, but it is still a difficult image to conjure.

"They dated for about six months. Then… they just ended. I don't know what happened; just that it wasn't amicable. Emmett will not even mention her name to me, and she pretends as if he never existed. It's bizarre. How one moment they could be so in love; practically attached to the hip, to so… not. All those weeks ago, when Rose came to Eclipse – that was the first time I had seen her in my working environment for four years, give or take."

"He got so cagey when I brought it up…"

"Rosalie is a very sore subject for Em. Its best not to bring it up around him. I'm sorry, I should've said something, but after time I guess I forgot."

"It's crazy."

He laughs humourlessly, "Trust me, I know. When I found out about – even after seeing in unfold in front of me – I couldn't believe it. At first I was angry with Emmett, thought he was taking advantage of a young girl. But, it is Emmett. I trust him with my life."

"Do you think Esme knew about it?"

He turns thoughtful, "I don't think so. She most definitely wouldn't have approved; her little girl with a dropout turned bartender? And an older one at that? The horror."

I giggle, but the sound is hollow in my ears. I feel pity stir deep inside me. Sympathy for Emmett and Rosalie's doomed relationship and for Rosalie who continues to act as Esme's puppet.

"I ain't barging in on something, am I?"

Edward and I glance up at our intruder, who just happens to be a very pretty man in his early twenties. His eyes are a jade green, complimenting his olive skin and glossy, black hair. They look even more gorgeous with the combo of gold eyeliner he has applied.

"Jared!"

Edward and the guy – Jared exchange one of those man-slap-hug things, and the laid back smile reappears on Edward's face.

"Bella, this is Jared Wolff. Jared, this is my girlfriend, Bella Swan."

Jared gives me an easy smile, "Pleasure to meet you Miss Swan. I always wondered when Tony would settle down," he throws in a playful wink at Edward.

I raise a brow at Edward, "Tony?"

He winces at the term of address, "No matter how many times I tell him to stop calling me that, it never seems to go through."

Jared and I laugh at him heartily, and I finally relax. With the amount of people we had met within the last hour, this is the first time I have felt truly comfortable in someone's company outside of Edwards.

"Ha ha," Edward rolls his eyes, good-naturedly.

"You guys have been awfully popular tonight, it's like we've been lining up to see Mickey Mouse from Disney World. Mind you, maybe it's because of your stunning entrance. Honestly – you two look hot as shit."

I blush deeply, "Thank you, I hope we don't disappoint."

"Never," Jared snickers "you are probably some of the few tolerable people here tonight."

Edward takes a sip from his champagne, muttering a dry "tell me about it."

"So how'd you guys know each other?" Jared is so unlike all the other people whom Edward is friends with. Perhaps he was a dancer in Julliard, his lithe body certainly suggested so.

"Rose and I worked on the Burburry Fall Line together, when we were like… ten? eleven? Anthony occasionally tagged along to the photo-shoots."

"Forcibly!" Edward interjects "I think Esme was hoping you'd rub off on me," he turns to me "Jared was the son Esme always wanted."

This time Jared rolls his eyes, "Only because I don't have one camera-shy bone in my body. Esme was desperate to get Tony into modelling. Him and Rose together could have been the new and improved Kaia and Presley Gerber!"

I giggle at Edward's expression.

"Anyway, how've you been man? It's been forever. And where did you find this little treasure? On one of Rosalie's many fashion escapades?"

"Tagging along to photo-shoots is now long behind me thankfully," Edward smirks, "we met at a club actually. 'Eclipse'."

"I have been dying to go there!" Jared exclaims, "I have heard nothing but good things, and apparently the bosses are a bit of eye candy too!"

He wiggles his eyebrows making me laugh again.

I sneak a glance at Edward slyly; "Well I certainly have a soft spot for one of them…"

His eyes twinkle with humour while Jared howls, "watch out Tony boy, you may have some competition!"

Edward slips his arm around me, and pulls me towards him; kissing the side of my head, "I think I may have won this fight…"

"Oh, I don't know." I tease, "Emmett is pretty cute…"

Edward's incessant tickling cuts me off, his fingers slipping under my arms and moving up and down my sides.

"S-stop!"

"Minx," He whispers affectionately but giving up his tickle-fest.

"God, you guys are sickeningly sweet. You're giving me toothache."

We both look over at Jared, who just stares at us amused.

"Don't be jealous Jare" Edward jabs with good humour.

Jared's eyes sparkle, "Actually my good friend, jealousy is far from it. You guys remind me of Liam and I."

My curiosity spikes, "Liam?"

"He's here somewhere…" Jared looks around intently, then he flashes the dimples - "Oh, here he is!"

Jared's has long forgotten Edward and I as he sets his eyes on a tall, handsome male. He is about Edward's height, but in contrast to Jared's boyishness, everything about this guy says 'man.' He has brown, wavy hair that settles a little below the nape of his neck. His jaw line is sharp and his brown eyes warm as he looks at Jared.

Jared gazes at him, and they entwine fingers in a fluid motion.

"Guys, this is my boyfriend Liam. Liam, this is Anthony Cullen and his girlfriend Bella."

Liam smiles at us warmly, offering his hand.

"It's great to meet you, I've always wondered about the mysterious Anthony Cullen" he comments in a thick Irish accent.

Edward chuckles in embarrassment, "it's nice to meet you Liam. I can guarantee that I won't live up to any of your expectations."

Liam shakes his head good naturedly "well your outfits have already earned you a place in my good books. You look badass."

"I know, right? Why didn't we think about Bonnie and Clyde?"

Liam grins "Because I haven't got the legs to be Bonnie, and you had your heart set on being a werewolf after watching Taylor Lautner."

"Man, that boy is fine" Jared groans making Edward and I laugh, and Liam roll his eyes "Liam can't say much though. I bought him a poster of Robert Pattinson for our first anniversary."

As they begin to squabble teasingly, Edward leans into me to whisper.

"Esme has glared over here at least seven times. Looks like someone isn't too happy that the spotlight isn't on her tonight."

I take a glimpse over my shoulder, eyes meeting the woman herself. She looks away quickly; talking animatedly to the Irina girl, fake smile omnipresent.

"Bitch."

My eyes shoot back to Liam who glares over at Esme. Jared rubs his back comfortingly, giving me a half smile.

"Esme isn't the biggest… advocate for our relationship."

Liam barks out a laugh, "understatement of the century. I grew up in Ireland in a Catholic family. Growing up I was always so unaccepted. Then I came here, met Jare… I felt as though I had finally found the place I belonged. Esme Cullen is the only person who has made feel otherwise, since I moved to the States."

"I'm sorry" Edward says lowly "I am not going to excuse Esme's actions. But I know how it feels. Too feel unaccepted by her."

Liam and Edward share a small smile, whilst Jared and I hug our respective halves.

"We're here for Rose, baby" Jared murmurs, "She has always been a great friend to us."

"And yet Esme is the one running the show… as always."

As Jared goes to reply, a portly man interrupts – grey eyes firmly on Edward. He looks like the Monopoly man with his dark suit, silver waistcoat and top hat.

"Sorry to intrude, but are you Anthony Cullen?"

Edward's fingers stop fidgeting with the loose string of my sweater as he raises a hand to shake the unknown man's, "Yes. Sorry, I don't think I have had the pleasure…"

The man grins amiably, shaking his hand enthusiastically "Santiago Lopez. And believe me Mr Cullen, the pleasure is all mine."

My boyfriend smiles a little confused, "Mr Lopez, this is my girlfriend Bella and friends Jared and Liam."

After exchanging pleasantries, Santiago places all his attention back on Edward, "I must say, I have been waiting awhile to meet you Mr Cullen. Would it be possible if I could speak to you… in private?"

Santiago gives him a hopeful look and I know this is about something important.

Edward immediately looks to me, arm tightening around my waist "well…"

"That's fine!" I hurry to insert "go ahead baby."

"Are you sure?" He says in a soft undertone "what if Esme ambushes you?"

I smile up at him reassuringly "I'll be fine. Just hurry back to me."

He kisses my forehead, "always.

Facing our audience, Edward looks at Jared and Liam with mock command "look after my girl while I'm gone."

As I roll my eyes, Jared salutes him "yes sir."

Santiago grins in delight, placing a hand on Edward's back as they walk away. My eyes don't leave their figures until I lose them in the sea of people. It is only when Jared releases a dreamy sigh that I realise I am not alone.

"Anthony Cullen was more beautiful than he was when he was thirteen… and that's saying something."

"What was he like?" I ask.

"Well, a bit of a grump" Jared laughs "he really did hate coming along to the photo-shoots. He would just sit in the corner and read or sleep. But he gave all us a show. Seriously, he was better looking than over half the male models – he just wouldn't smile for the camera."

I try to picture a thirteen-year-old Edward Mason.

Same tousled hair and expressive green eyes but with a softer looking face and ganglier frame… all brooding and silent. My heart squeezes; this was when was downward spiralling, in the midst of losing his real mother. A time when he did not even, know Emmett. He must have felt so alone.

"He smiles a lot more, I see. Hell, he has smiled more tonight than I ever saw in our teenage years. He looks happy."

"I hope so. I've been happier than I ever have been, since I met him."

"Well, I know that I've known you for ten minutes Bella, but I can already see you two are perfect for each other. That man can't take his eyes off you. He is so in love with you."

I can feel my cheeks go pink, "I love him too… So much."

"That's obvious" Liam grins wryly "you would have to be, to deal with his mother."

"Honestly, tonight was the first time I met her. E- Anthony kept her from me for a long time. At first, I thought it was because he was embarrassed of me… or that he thought I'd want him for his money. But now…"

"Now you know she is a stuck up, cruel bitch who cares more about her reputation than she does her own children."

I shake my head in morose "I just don't get it. Seeing what an amazing man Anthony is and how sweet Rosalie seems, how can they be raised by that woman?"

Liam shrugs "God has a wicked sense of humour. But make no mistake Bella, Anthony seems like a stand up guy but Rosalie… she's great, but she will do just about anything for her mother. If Esme didn't like Jared so much, then make no mistake – we wouldn't be here. Rosalie is a little girl when it comes to her. Just be careful when trusting her."

I nod carefully, "have you met Carlisle?"

"Dr. Cullen is nice enough" Jared remarks, "he's soft though. Esme walks all over him… it's lucky that he is out of the house as often as he is."

"I think it's clear who wears the trousers in that relationship" Liam adds.

We all stay quiet for a moment, in thoughtful but companionable silence.

So, Carlisle was okay – in comparison to Esme that is. Did he know about Esme's hold over Edward? And if he didn't, could he help us? Did he know anything more about Edward's father?

I know when Elizabeth gave up Edward for Esme and Carlisle to adopt, Edward thought it was because she was too young and that it could potentially effect her family's reputation.

However, she knew what Esme was like. She bullied Elizabeth, for most of her childhood.

And maybe Elizabeth thought familial love would prevail and that it wouldn't be like that for Edward, but something told me – there was something more to the story.

She couldn't have fully trusted Esme…

So why give her son to her?

Was Carlisle the answer?

…

I stayed with Jared and Liam for half an hour before excusing myself to the bathroom. Before that however, I exchanged numbers with Jared – with the promise that he, Alice and I would get together for a coffee some time.

As I wash my hands, I glance in the mirror. I have to double take, shortly forgetting my blonde hair.

I'm tempted to pull the wig off and remove all the metal pins from my hair, but I comfort myself with the fact that we probably won't be here for much longer.

Edward was still talking to Santiago (about what, I wasn't sure), but then we would leave and escape to the safe haven of Edward's apartment.

"Tired, Isabella?"

I jump, spinning around to face Esme. She ignores my stare, walking to the mirror inspecting herself. I get the faint impression that she is waiting for my answer.

"Not at all."

She moves her red lipstick around her lips in a circular motion, eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

"It's sweet you know… in a puppy dog sort of way – how you look at Anthony."

"Wha-"

She holds up her free hand in a signal to stop, "you've known him for what? A month? Oh, sweetie – you don't know who he really is."

"I-"

She looks at me then, "Just be quiet, and listen like the good girl you are."

Esme circles around me, her movement reminiscent of a vulture, ready to swoop in on her prey.

"You aren't what I expected."

I raise an eyebrow at her in silent question.

"I had you looked up. Of course, I did. Nothing of great interest… Daughter of a divorced cop and housewife… 4.0 GPA, attending NYU… Not even one speeding ticket."

I don't say anything, waiting for the inevitable "but", but she just pulls at her skin – searching for those invisible wrinkles and lines – not bothering to even look at me.

"For any other man, I am sure you'd be a catch Isabella. The perfect 'girl-next-door'."

Finally, she turns to me with a condescending smirk present "but for this world… you are nothing. Just a small town girl trying to make her way in the big city… you think you're special because my son noticed you? Anthony has always been the black sheep. He's like his Aunt in that regard, and she was always picking up strays too. So listen here – quit while you're ahead. It's not a threat, just a warning.

There are more suitable women right here. Women of his decorum, who are from good families, attended Ivy League schools and respectful careers. He has had his little rebellious stage – being friends with that oaf, owning a bar, you. But he is back now. With his real family. Understand?"

I am frozen. So completely and utterly gobsmacked by this woman's vile attack on my persona. I don't even know what to feel, because up until this point – I thought this myself.

I told Edward I was nobody – he could have anyone on his arm.

Yet, his words swirl around my head…

You are successful. You are set to graduate at the top of your class with a first class degree. You have impressed one of the greatest editors within the industry…

You are the woman I love.

Then the anger takes over. I am beyond furious. I am fucking livid. How dare she?

This woman made the love of my life feel like nothing. Who continues to treat him like a puppet?

She had no control over Edward and certainly, no control over me… and it was about time she was aware of it.

"You are not his mother."

She stops, hand resting on the doorknob and back facing me; "what the fuck, did you just say to me?"

I walk up behind her so that we are close enough to touch.

"You are not his mother, and his name is not Anthony Cullen. My boyfriend is Edward Mason – son of Elizabeth Platt and Edward Mason Senior. And I can safely say – Elizabeth Platt had more grace and class that you had, in her pinky finger."

Esme whips around – nostrils flaring – but I can tell I have stunned her. She is breathing so heavily, that she can't even get a word out; but the hatred rolls off her in waves.

"Yes, I am a small town girl, and yes Edward is too good for me. He is generous and kind; thoughtful, sweet, sensitive – and he has the most beautiful soul. I love him more than anything in this world, and unlike some people – I am going to show him that everyday, for the rest of my life. Because Esme Cullen – nothing you can do, will make me let go of him."

I look her right in the eye and beam, showing all the love I have for Edward in that one smile – before walking around her and out of the room – feeling like a weight has lifted from my chest.

When I reach the main room, a cold hand grips my shoulder.

"Listen here you – "

"Mom!"

Esme's serpentine gaze weighs on me for a few more moments, before she turns to her daughter.

Rosalie, unassuming to what she has just interrupted, smiles brightly to her mother. The sight vaguely reminds me of a little girl, showing her mother a painting she had made in school or something. It's very childlike, and again I feel a pang of sympathy for her – especially when I see the bored look on Esme's face.

"Rosalie, sweetheart. Can't you see that I am talking to Isabella?"

The adolescent gleam in Rosalie's sapphire eyes dims, as she bristles under Esme's coldness. In an effort to escape it, she turns to me – scarily similar to her mother with that plastic smile.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you both. You must be Anthony's Isabella… Bella, right?"

I smile kindly at her, "That's me. It's great to meet you Rosalie, although I think we were kind of introduced once…"

"I remember," Rose, agrees "my brother was a particularly big asshole that night. I hope his bad mood didn't effect your evening."

I grin covertly, remembering that night in the office; Edward's tongue doing unspeakable things to my body…

"He got over it."

"Actually, it's great that I've found you. My friend has been looking for you... Jacob! Bella is here!"

I stare at her, bewildered "Jacob?"

Rosalie ignores me, waving over 'Jacob', somewhere behind me. However, Esme's eyes never leave my face – searching for something.

"Ladies."

At the sound of Jacob's voice, my stomach lurches. I whirl towards him, fighting fiercely to keep up my cheerful façade.

Jacob Black looks undoubtedly handsome in his khaki overalls and mirrored sunglasses. He definitely gave Tom Cruise a run for his money.

He pushes the glasses onto the top of his head, eyes sparking with recognition.

"Bella! Wow. I would never of recognised you. Blonde suits you."

I tug on a blonde strand uncomfortably, "Oh, um, thank you. I think Anthony prefers the brunette though."

"Well, I for one think you look beautiful as both."

I fiddle with the edge of my jumper, looking at Rosalie – eyes begging for help.

"So… how did you two meet?" Esme implores with strained politeness.

Jacob flashes her his iconic grin "Rose's party actually. Bella and I bumped into one another…"

I avoid Jacob's gaze by looking over to the dance floor. The bouncy music slowly becomes much softer and romantic; the strumming of the guitar echoes around the room and the buzz of people chatting quietens slightly. Groups move away, whilst couples move on and position themselves in a waltz-like pose. Combined with the flickering flames of the candles and the sight of the large chandeliers, the scene was picturesque – something from out of a movie or TV show.

"Why don't you and Jacob go dance, Isabella?"

My body automatically tenses at the thought; I smile tightly at Esme, whose lips curve into that snake-like smirk.

"Oh no" I laugh nervously "I don't dance."

Rosalie giggles girlishly "But didn't you meet Jake on the dance floor? And Anthony at Eclipse?"

I can barely control my glare at Rosalie; feeling slightly betrayed "I don't know…"

"Oh come on, Isabella – it's only one dance. You wouldn't want to disappoint one of our star guests, would you?" Esme's eyes dance with delight at my discomfort. Jacob laughs with her, not seeing the intentions behind it.

"Just one dance" I compromise.

"Sure, sure" Jacob winks, "excuse us ladies."

I can feel Rosalie and Esme's gazes burn into my back as I lead Jacob to the dance floor. Where is Edward?

Give me love, like her

'Cause lately I've been waking up alone

Jacob and I slip into an identical position to the other pairs, I stare over his shoulder searching for that familiar bronze hair. Consumed by my desire to see him, I fail to hear Jacob talking to me.

"Sorry, what?"

He chuckles, "oh, nothing. Just commenting on how pushy Rosalie and Esme can be."

I snigger darkly, "You could say that…"

"You don't think Anthony will mind me, stealing you away?"

I don't really know what to say to that. The question seems to hold some double entrée, sending alarm bells ringing.

"Uhh…"

"He's lucky to have you."

I laugh again, this time nervously; "no I think I am the lucky one."

He looks down at me, that iconic smile playing at his lips "I have to disagree. You're beautiful, friendly, kind..."

I look down at our feet, trying to find my voice, "Jacob, you don't even know me."

"But I want to… I went looking for you, y'know."

I pull back, startled. His dark eyes watch me, carefully, assessing; I cough uncomfortably.

"Jacob, I don't know what you're trying to achieve. You are perfectly aware that I have a boyfriend."

He shrugs "You're not married Bella… or engaged, for that matter. Technically you're still a free agent."

His words sent a bolt of anger through my body. I halt our movements, wiggling my hand away from his – "I'm not a free agent Jacob. I love him. It will always be him."

"Hey, hey, hey" he says quickly "okay."

He hesitantly takes my hands into his, and I reluctantly begin to move with him again.

The megawatt smile has dropped; "I'm sorry, its just Rosalie said..."

I furrow my eyebrows, confused "what?"

"Rose has been saying that you and Anthony aren't exclusive, that you're just the flavour of the month."

My nostrils flare angrily, I search for the devious blonde; feeling the desperate need to wring her neck. All the sympathy I held for her before leaves my body, and is replace by pure hatred. How dare she?

"And I thought we had something…"

"Jacob, Edward and I are very much together. And we literally met once."

"But Bella," he whines, "I saw the awe in your eyes when we first met. It was the same amazement I felt – you can't deny it."

I bark out a laugh in disbelief, "I'm sorry? Are you aware of how famous you are? Of course I was fucking amazed to bump into a celebrity!"

"It was more than that!" he says stubbornly.

God, he's lucky he can sing, because this boy is fucking dense.

"Excuse me Jacob, but may I steal my girlfriend?"

I can feel my whole body melt at the sound of his voice alone. I look at Edward, but his eyes are firmly set on Jacob. He looks so handsome. His hat has mysteriously vanished, leaving his hair wild and free, standing in all different directions. His suit jacket has also disappeared; revealing his red braces and white shirt that is unbuttoned at the top.

"Bu-"

"Thanks for the dance, Jake." I smile sweetly, pulling myself out of his grasp.

Give me love, like never before

'Cause lately I've been craving more.

I place my hand into Edward's, that familiar thrum of electricity racing up my arm as our skin touches.

And it's been a while, but I still feel the same…

He twirls me away from a stunned Jacob, his green gaze finally settling on me.

"Hey."

I sigh, entwining our fingers together "Hey."

"I'm sorry I left you with them, baby. Santiago wouldn't stop."

"It's okay, you're here now, thank you for saving me."

"Anytime," he smiles, bending low to kiss the flesh below my ear "it looked pretty tense… did he say anything to you?"

I swallow thickly, "he flirted mostly."

His body goes rigid, "what?"

"It wasn't wholly his fault!" I'm quick to add, but that only serves to make him angrier.

"What do you mean? How can him flirting with you, not be wholly his fault?"

I stare studiously at our feet – marvelling at the shine of his Italian shoes.

"Bella?"

Sighing, I look up "Look, he just got the wrong impression…"

"The wrong impression? I know I was talking to Santiago for a while, but other than that I haven't left your side all night."

"I don't think it was that…"

"Bella," Edward huffs frustrated "what's going on?"

"He said… Apparently, Rosalie has been telling people that we aren't exclusive. That I am just you're flavour of the month."

Edward slows, his ears turning red. I can feel his heart hammering – that's how close we are. He flexes his hands around mine and I can tell he is close to exploding.

"She – that fucking" He spat, trying to find words.

"Shh," I calm him "shh, stop. I told Jacob. And after you saving me, I think he got the message."

"That's not good enough Bella!" he exclaimed "all these people. Poking their noses in, trying to break us… I am not having it. Esme already controls my business, I am not letting her control our relationship."

"You think I'd let her do that?" I question furiously. I stop in the middle of the dance floor – not caring about the other dancers around us. I focus on the man in front of me, holding his face between my hands and forcing his eyes down to me.

"She won't break us, Edward. We love each other. It's you and me."

Against the world.

The party isn't over folks! Part two will be here next Sunday – and there is not going to be smooth sailing for our Bella and Edward.

Let me know what you think!