Disclaimer: SM owns all.

AN: My beta's back! The brain is made up of two sides/hemispheres and each is responsible for different body functions and skills. In most people, the left side of the brain contains a person's language center, as the right controls cognitive functioning (thinking skill). That being said, sending love and hugs and a summer worthy Pina to the left side of my brain, Dawning Juliet.

These are the same chapters posted (with one on the way) as they are now all edited. Reposting has never felt so good.


The Red Carpet

His Biggest Fan


February 2004

I grunted and wiggled my toes around to get some blood circulating in them again, as fruitless an effort as it was.

"Damn these shoes," I grumbled under my breath.

Who pairs together an uncoordinated sixteen year old with a set of killer stilettos anyway? My father's new perky blonde, masochistic assistant, that's who.

"Stupid effing cu—"

"What was that?" my father asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," I started, quickly giving my father one of my sweetest smiles. "Stupid elfin creatures." I shuddered. "That movie gives me the creeps," I added for good measure.

"Hobbits," my father corrected.

"Whatever." I snorted and silently thanked my drama teachers back at Grace Academy. "Give me a movie about a sexy, seventeen year old vampire with killer green eyes, unruly, rusted hair and a devilish, panty-dropping smirk, and you'd have my vote along with the female population." I chuckled.

"A vampire, huh?" Charlie smirked. "He wouldn't happen to be sitting two rows in front of us, would he?" he asked, grinning at me.

"Sure." I grimaced as I caught his line of sight, having not realized I had so openly outed myself. "But one who isn't a complete douche. Cullen couldn't possibly fit the criteria." I shrugged nonchalantly. Charlie laughed and shook his head. "He has to sparkle like a girl, too."

"Anyone in particular you have in mind for the role, then?" He played along, tipping his head forward and waving to Charlize Theron. She smiled back and winked.

"Cougar," I said through a fake cough, smirking when my dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Miss Theron turned back around in hers. "Maybe Zach," I threw in offhandedly. "Or Jake."

"Bella," Charlie grunted. "Don't start with Zach. No is no."

"Fine," I huffed. "So unfair."

"And leave poor Edward alone. I don't think his ego can take another one of your hits."

"I highly doubt—"

"He's not the only one," he muttered under his breath, cutting me off.

Yeah, I heard it. Message delivered.

"If the whole world was blind…"

"Bella, don't start—"

"And the nominees for Best Director are…"

I tensed up at the same moment my father grabbed my hand. I licked my teeth to remove any possible trace of lipstick and squared my shoulders. As crazy as it sounded, I hated the attention. The cameras would focus on said nominee and more often than not, there was the chance that the zoom also included the occupant in the next seat.

"And the Oscar for Best Director goes to…" I wiggled my fingers trying to regain some sort of circulation as my father's grasp tightened while waiting for the best director to be announced.

"Carlisle Cullen, for Waiting in the Darkness!"

The crowd hooted, hollered and applauded, and my dad finally released my hand to do the same.

"Damn," I muttered. I thought for sure he had it this year.

"There's always next year, dad." I smiled encouragingly, inwardly cursing the Cullen name once again.

"Carl had this one in the bag, kiddo." He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

I picked up his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. "For what it's worth, you had my vote. Always will." Yeah, I was my dad's biggest fan.

"That's all that matters to me. Besides," he said, stretching in his seat, "We'll get him next year." His mustache twitched as he held back a laugh, his eyes lit in anticipation.

I looked to my left where a camera had been a minute before, focusing on my father. I checked over my shoulder to make sure the attention was still directed towards the man on stage giving yet another acceptance speech. Quickly, I readjusted my bra, sticking my hand in to pull the girls up and made sure the band straps hadn't tangled yet again. With an extra squeeze to confirm everything was in place, I smirked. The show would be wrapping up soon, and another walk along the carpet, clutching my father's arm was to be expected. I didn't need any unflattering shots headlining magazine covers.

I smiled at my stealthy accomplishment and looked up to watch—

"Shit," I gasped. Oh God, let me die of embarrassment now, I thought.

I wasn't as discrete with my brief fondle as I had thought. Edward Cullen stared at me with a shit-eating grin, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You wish," I mouthed while flipping him the bird, returning my full undivided attention to center stage.

I mentally calculated the remaining hours I had to fake a saccharine smile. I couldn't wait to get back to my father's house, strip down, and throw on my old beat up sweatpants and t-shirt. I was done with Hollywood. And the Cullens.

At least for the night.


Authors Notes and Credits:

The 76th Annual Academy Awards took place in 2004, honoring the best films of 2003 with The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King that won a record-tying eleven awards including Best Director for Peter Jackson and Best Picture. I changed the names (characters) to fit the story, but had to give proper credit to said director.

Updates should follow regularly, about a chapter a week, give or take. Just cut me some slack this week. A lady only turns 21 (every year for the past 10 years apparently) once!