I have a million and one other stories that I should be updating, but I have decided against it. Because I really love starting new stories, don't you?

Because I loove rebellious Bella... the Cullens will appear later, promise. :)

UPDATE: This is a re-draft, because I think the original was probably a little extreme. Sorry about that. :)


"NO! You can't bloody well make me… there is no way in hell that I am going to that crappy town! You have got to be joking, Renee."

My mother, traitor that she was, just smiled and shook her head, amused, "You know, Isabella, this is precisely why you need to leave. Phoenix is clearly no good for you. I think that some time with your father would be good for you."

"You might as well kill me now! I'd rather die than go to live with him. And what about my System gig, huh?! How am I going to manage to get to that when I'm the other side of the fucking country? I'm seventeen! You can't just make me go!" I was shouting now, appalled by the idea of moving away. How could she even entertain the idea?! I was happy here, or at least, as happy as a hormonal seventeen-year-old girl can be.

My mother pinched the bridge of her nose, the way she always did when she was close to losing her temper. I backtracked quickly. Renee in a temper ain't exactly pretty. "Come on, Renee, what did I do to deserve this?"

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. "Oh, I don't know…" her voice started out sickly-sweet, but condescending, as if explaining something very obvious to a small, incompetent child. "Perhaps it's the drugs, Isabella. Or the alcohol. Or the parties that I know you sneak out to. Or maybe, it's the boys that you bring home every night. Do you think I'm deaf? Not quite yet."

"That's none of your fucking business."

My tone matched her volume perfectly, calm and quiet, though I was practically shaking with anger. How dare she!? I was almost eighteen, for god's sake. It was my life.

"You're going, and there will be no more debate about it. You have no choice in the matter, Isabella. You're leaving tomorrow. I'd pack… unless you want me to do it for you?"

"No way. No bloody way. You can't control me!" I scowled. She'd pack a load of shit, and then probably burn my stuff. I should really do it, because I kinda liked my own crap…

Her eyes tightened minutely with pain. Bugger. Annoying as she was, I did kind of love Renee, and I didn't really like hurting her… but my pride wasn't going to let me apologise.

Instead I turned quickly away, storming upstairs, my faded black converses lying abandoned at the bottom of the stairs. I reached my room –white, with a gothic black swirl across the walls- and pulled out a fag immediately, lighting it and taking a draw. I closed my eyes in relief and fumbled under my bed for the bottle of vodka. I felt the smooth glass under my fingers, and pulled it out, examining it.

"Oh, perfect. Bloody wonderful." Empty. Just when I really needed a drunken stupor, too. Crap.

Pulling a battered black suitcase from under my bed, I unlocked it, pulling open the lid, and scowling at the dusty contents. So that was where those skinnies went… I dumped the stuff on the floor. Most of it was rubbish, empty bottles and packets that were still illegal in the US.

I pulled open the black wardrobe, yanking out my most 'controversial' clothes, (Renee's words, not mine) and stuffing them into the case, along with makeup –eyeliner, black. Mascara, black. Eyeshadow, either black or garishly neon colours. Pale foundation. My straighteners stayed out. I used them a lot… The hair dye also went in, and extensions. I might be forced to go to some hellhole in the middle of nowhere, but I wasn't going to make this easy for Charlie.

It was seven by then. Two hours to get ready. I stripped and stepped into the shower, under the hot jets, washing my dyed-black hair with my favourite shampoo, and stepping out of the shower, a towel around me. I stopped by the full-length mirror, staring at the reflection. My customary layer of black eye make-up had been washed away, leaving my face unexpectedly vulnerable and empty. I shivered unconsciously, turning away, lighting another fag, and drawing on it. It was almost a reflex action by now. I knew that Renee hated it, but I continued anyway. To spite her? Probably.

I pulled on the lacy black underwear, and then fishnets over my slender, white legs. I knew the effect they'd have on the boys of all ages at my favourite punk-rock club. Over my tights, I wore my favourite tartan mini, with my converses on for comfort. I pulled the strings of my corset-top perhaps a little too tightly, smirking at my tiny waist. The stud belt went on last, on my hips.

I re-applied my black make-up and blow-dried, and then straightened my long black hair. Finally, I inserted the studs into my various piercings—belly button, tongue, lip, eyebrow and ears. I glanced at the clock for a moment. Half an hour. Time enough to get across town on my Harley.

I didn't bother talking to Renee again. It would only result in another argument. Kicking my bike into life, I smiled at the familiar roar, before releasing the clutch and gunning it down the High street, towards the old warehouse that I knew so well.

Bob was on the door tonight. I smiled. No point in pulling out the fake-id, then.

"Hey, Bob."

The huge, burly man grinned down at me, his eyes lingering a little longer than was necessary on my chest, "Hey, kid. Lookin' good tonight. As always eh, Bel?"

I smirked, knowing the effect my body had on him. "As always, Bob."

He grinned back stepping aside for me to pass by, "Have fun, honey."

"Thanks."

I disappeared inside, glancing around at the familiar interior. Some unsigned band was playing; they always saved the bigger acts for later on. I headed straight for the bar, ready to drown my annoyance at my mother.

"Vodka."

The man behind the bar nodded. He seemed to be a little dazed, and I raised an eyebrow as he continued to stand there, staring.

"Hello? Today would be nice."

He turned quickly away, but not before his eyes raked appraisingly over my body one more time, and poured my drink.

"On the house."

I smirked. It was amazing how seldom I had to pay for my drinks. Downing the glass in one, I turned my back on the man, making my way into the crowded area in front of the stage. Might as well make the most of it.

I saw some hot guy kissing a pretty girl in the corner and smirked, pushing my way over. After a moment, they surfaced, and she smiled at him, said something and disappeared. I approached the guy, wearing my best seductive smile.

He saw me in a moment, and there was a moment when I almost saw his eyes pop. I pressed myself against him, grabbing his hair and forcing his lips down to mine. He resisted, but only for a second, his hand resting on my chest. After a moment, I pulled away slightly, my lips still only a few millimetres from his. I bit my lip 'shyly', knowing the effect it had on most guys. He looked a little dazzled, and I knew immediately that I had accomplished what I'd set out to do, when something hard pressed against my stomach.

I ran my tongue over my lips, and stepped away, beckoning for him to follow. We didn't go far, just to a corner where I knew there was a supply closet. I opened it, and pulled him in after me. He closed the door behind him.


I woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar room. Carpet littered with clothes –none of which were mine-, walls a grungy blue. But this kinda thing happened a lot. I sat up, and immediately regretted it when my head started pounding violently.

I swallowed a moan, and extracted myself from the arms of some guy. Not the same one as last night. Huh.

My clothes were nowhere in sight. But I had loads similar at home. There was no point in wasting time looking for them. Instead, I rooted through unfamiliar drawers, extracting an overlarge shirt, and pulling it over my head, along with my mini which I found, by some miracle, draped over the sink in the messy bathroom just off the bedroom.

And then, I finally remembered. Today was it. The day I moved. To live with Charlie.

"Aw, fuck."


So? What do you think? Too much? Not enough?

I dunno, I've never really done anything like this before. The rest of the chapters probably won't be as extreme, but I dunno… :P

Anyways, please let me know. I'm feeling dreadfully insecure… /