A/N: Stephenie owns everything.

Chapter 1

People want to be together

Chapter song: Butterfly, by Jason Mraz

It was the same old thing.

I woke up to the alarm clock that read fifteen minutes until eight. In short, I had fifteen minutes until I had to be all the way across town and at Pete's, were I would work a full day shift running around the decaying café, taking orders and spilling coffee beans all over the floor in the storage room. Then Pete would call me into the back to have a talk about the trials and tribulations of a local café in the middle of the Village and how he couldn't afford anymore of my mistakes. And I would nod and murmur in assent and promise to dedicate all of my attention to my job. Then he would shake his head and mutter something about " never thought a dancer could have two left feet."

I jumped out of my bed and scrambled into my kitchen, tripping on shoes and dirty laundry as I rushed to get ready. I grabbed the violet camisole lying slightly underneath the worn leather couch along the way, pulling it over my head while simultaneously knocking into the countertop. Pete was right; the irony of my clumsiness was baffling.

There are people in life that live for one thing and one thing only. They breathe it, drink it, see only it, feel nothing but that one thing that makes their life worth something. I live to dance.

I grew up in the poorer parts of Harlem, in a crumbling apartment complex sandwiched between a music store and a boarded up building that had been marked for foreclosure for years. I can still remember looking out my window in the morning and seeing drug dealers making deals in the alley behind the building. How protected my innocence was. But even without the money to pay for ballet lessons or jazz class, my whole childhood was spent on my toes. I leaped before I ran.

By the time I was three, I knew I wanted to be a dancer. I think it really hit me when I watched the Christmas Celebrations in Rockefeller center on the television one year. They were showcasing their usual performers, and one such performance was the New York ballet.

As I watched the lovely woman and handsome men pirouette and side leap across the open stage, I became mesmerized with the poetry of their motion. So many emotions that words could not describe these dancers could convey with the twist and spiral of their bodies. The way they danced spoke more to me than any words I'd ever heard.

I ran in circles around my cubicle-sized kitchen, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and some soup at hand from the cupboard. I put it in the microwave, set it for two minutes, and quickly hurried off the bathroom, grabbing a pair of black pants hanging on the back of the sofa as I hurried to brush my teeth.

I rounded the corner into the claustrophobic bathroom with the cracked purple tiles, and groaned at the reflection in the mirror. I quickly decided a pony tail was the best course of action in the situation, but when I pulled it up, it was too high, hung to the left too much, and I couldn't find a bobby pin to pin back the stray hair that hung in front of my face. I guess it was just going to be one of those days.

I ran back into my bedroom, hopping around, yanking my pants on and falling down repeatedly.

Ten minutes till eight.

I grabbed the socks bulging out of my dresser and plopped down on the edge of my bed, pulling them on my feet. I hopped off the bed and ducked underneath it, grabbing my brown leather boots that I'd kicked off last night after collapsing from another exhausting day. They would quickly find their place under the creaking brass bed frame soon enough.

I stumbled into the kitchen, stuffing my pant leg into the boot, and pulled the soup cup out of the microwave, tossing it between my hands so as not to burn myself. The apple would just have to be saved for dinner.

I ran to the door and grabbed my bag, jacket, and scarf from the coat hanger. Throwing one last frantic look around the, I slammed the door and heard one of my pictures fall off the wall behind me.

The general vibe that's associated with New York is one of Splendor. The general vibe that is associated with the South Bronx is one of poverty and violence. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck as I made my way out of my rotting apartment building and onto the cold cement of my rough neighborhood. Four steps later the cat-calls began, and I sped up in the direction of Grand Central. I kept my eyes strictly to the pavement, avoiding the leering stares of drunken men sitting against the buildings and old woman shaking out filthy carpets on their porches.

I just barely managed to catch the train to Greenwich, and by the time it took off I only had two minutes to get halfway across town. I rest my heavy head against the window, watching the black cement streak past me. Pete was definitely going to fire me.

It wouldn't be the first time. This would be my fifth job I'd lost in the past year, and I really couldn't afford that. I took a sip of my finally cooled tomato soup, recoiling at the thought of having it for breakfast lunch and dinner everyday because it came in bulk.

A strum of chords broke through my reverie, and I turned to see a young man a few aisles down, strumming a guitar sitting on his lap, a Polaroid camera hanging from his neck. He strummed louder, gathering the attention of the people next to him. He looked around and smiled at everyone. And his smile blinded me.

Looking closely at him, everything blinded me. I'd never seen such a beautiful and unique face before. It was simple and intricate at the same time, framed by messy bronze hair that somehow managed to shimmer under the ugly fluorescent lights. His ethereal beauty captivated me, and it seemed the case with the other people in the car.

" Quiet crowd tonight." He chuckled, and I couldn't help but giggle with a few other people. I stared, transfixed on the beautiful and intriguing boy. What would he do next?

" How about we liven this party up a bit," He suggested, standing up from his seat and commanding the attention of the entire cabin. He continued to strum absent melodies on his guitar, the Polaroid that hung from his neck knocking against the wood as he meandered over to an old woman few seats away. He sat next to her, playing a tinkering note.

" Hello darling, how're you doing on this fine morning?" He smiled, strumming her a soft melody, "What's your name, beautiful?"

People chuckled and awed, and I smiled widely, unable to stop. The old woman blushed and giggled, her small and withered hand reaching up to cover her smile coyly.

" Pearl." She giggled, eliciting an adoring murmur from the crowd. The young man beamed back at her, probably giving her a heart attack with his dazzling smile.

" Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Pearl. This one's for you, darlin."

With that, he stood up and hitched the strap of his guitar up on his shoulder. His fingers, which had been plucking nothing in particular, started up on a lively, jazzy melody. (You know my thing. Song: Butterfly by Jason Mraz. Ha I love this part.)

"I'm taking a moment just imaginin' that I'm dancin' with you. I'm your pole and all you're wearing is your shoes. You got soul, you know what to do to turn me on until I write a song about you."

I blushed a bit as the young man continued to sing to the elderly woman about her being a stripper, but she just laughed along with the rest of them, and her friend beside her nudged her and said, " He knows, Pearly!"

He stood and sang the next part of his very risqué but lovely song. Even lovelier was his voice, and the smile that still pulled slightly at the corners of his mouth.

"But you don't fold, you don't fade. You've got everything you need, especially me, Sister you've got it all. You make the call to make my day. In your message say my name. Your talk is all the talk, sister you've got it all."

He pulled his hands up and began clapping over his head, yelling for everyone to join along. Soon the whole cabin was clapping in time, and he resumed to strumming the chords. He waltzed over to an African-American woman standing near the door, serenading her with the next part. She pulled her index finger forward, shaking her hips and inviting him forward. The cabin laughed in unison.

" Curl your upper lip up and let me look around. Ride your tongue along your bottom lip and bite down. And bend your back and ask those hips if I can touch."

She laughed and danced beside him, their shoulders rubbing as they swayed back and forth. The cabin whooped and hollered, never stopping our rhythmic clapping that had become the heartbeat of the song. I felt my toe tapping and my sides swaying to the undeniable beat.

"Butterfly, Well you float on by .Oh kiss me with your eyelashes tonight. Or Eskimo your nose real close to mine.
And let's mood the lights and finally make it right.
But you don't fold, you don't fade, you've got everything you need.
Especially me.
Sister you've got it all."

He waltzed away from her, coming down to my aisle. I gulped loudly as his eyes fell on mine. His sparkling emerald green eyes. Dear god, and now he's smiling!

"But you don't fold, you don't fade. You've got everything you need, especially me, Sister you've got it all. You make the call to make my day. In your message say my name. Your talk is all the talk, sister you've got it all."

He shimmied closer to me, leaning down so that our faces were mere inches apart. My breath stuck in my throat as he let his hands drop from his guitar to support him on either of his sides as he hovered over me.

"Doll I need to see you pull your knee socks up. Let me feel you up side, down slide, in slide, out slide, over here. Climb in my mouth now child."

I felt my heart racing as his sweet breath tickled my lips. The taste of it on my tongue caused very inappropriate thoughts to float through my mind, and I blushed red as the whole cabin cheered. The lovely boy smiled widely, but pushed himself up again and continued with his one-man show.

"Butterfly, well you landed on my mind Damn right you landed on my ear and then you crawled inside Now I see you perfectly behind closed eyes I wanna fly with you and I don't wanna lie to you Cause I, cause I can't recall a better days I'm coming to shine on the occasion. You're an open minded lady, you've got it all."

By now, people had stood from their seats, clapping their hands and swaying to the music. I turned around in my seat and watched him, completely entranced. How had one man managed to get an entire car of stoic strangers to become one big dancing party of merry people? Men and woman who wouldn't have take a second glance at each other before were dancing together now, smiling and laughing.

The boy walked back to the old woman, leaning down next to her as the last lingering notes came to an end.

" Butterfly, baby, well you've got it all." He smiled and the whole cabin erupted in thunderous applause, my own clapping a healthy participant. He grabbed her withered hand and kissed it like a perfect gentleman, making every girl in the car swoon.

" Thank you, thank you," He joked, bowing theatrically and blowing kisses. I laughed, unable to stop as he charmed us further. Who was this man?

" Greenwich Village, next stop." The mechanical woman's voice sounded over the speaker. It seemed to break through the festivity that had befallen the car, and people grabbed their things, openly reluctant to step back into reality. I was one of those people.

I watched as the beautiful boy returned to his seat and grabbed his guitar case, placing the guitar inside and snapping it shut. He slung his black Dakine backpack over his shoulder, the Polaroid swaying from the strap around his neck. Was he getting off as well?

The car came to a stop, and the doors slid open. People patted him on the back and complimented him on their way out of the doors and, despite being so bold before, he smiled modestly and thanked them for their active participation. I was shaking as I passed him. His eyes fell on mine, and he smiled.

" You're amazing," I blurted, but instantly went red, " Uh, I mean, uh that was amazing…you know what you did."

He smirked, shrugging. " People want to be together. Sometimes they just need a bit of encouraging."

I smiled uncontrollably, looking down so he couldn't see the adoration that was no doubt shining in my eyes. After a moment, I looked up again.

" So, um, are you getting off here?" I squeaked, stepping aside so another person could get off. Frankly, if he wasn't, I might consider staying on myself. Oh, geeze, quit Bella!

" Yeah, uh yeah I am actually," He smiled, " Are you?"

I nodded ecstatically, and he chuckled, making me blush. He held out his arm in front of us.

" Ladies first."

I suppressed a girlish giggle and nodded, stepping off into the crowded station. He quickly stepped beside me just as the doors closed. He smiled down at me, and I couldn't help but take in account how much taller he was than me.

" So, where are you headed?' He asked, oblivious to the frenzied people rushing past us. For some reason that made me smile. It was like there was nothing but us two.

" Pete's coffee house. It's a few blocks away on-"

" Really? That's where I'm headed too. I have a week gig there. Do you work at Pete's?" The lovely boy shot off, raising a hand to his chin, a finger placed curiously over his lips. It took me a moment to respond.

" U-uh, yeah, I uh, I'm a waitress. Well, I'm not actually a waitress 'cause coffee shops don't have waitresses. I'm actually more of someone who takes orders, but behind the counter you know not like at the table 'cause that's what waitresses do…" I bit my lip, turning red. God, I just couldn't shut up. I was normally a quite person, but I chose now of all times to babble like an idiot.

" Uh, I'mBellaSwan." I stammered, thrusting my hand out for the beautiful boy. He seemed surprised at first, but quickly smiled and took my hand in his. I nearly gasped at the contact of his smooth skin on mine. It was like someone had set my hand on fire.

" It's nice to meet you. I'm Edward Cullen."

Edward Cullen. For some reason, I felt like I'd heard that name before. In fact, I did remember Pete saying something about and Edmund or an Edgar performing during the evening. So this was him.

" So, now that we're acquainted and everything, shall we get going?" Edward inquired, his emerald eyes sparkling on mine. I gulped and nodded, trying not to frown when he let go of my hand to walk towards the stairs. I couldn't help but admire the attractive sway of his hips when he walked, the way his jeans hung low…

This was going to be a long week.

A/N: It's another story! I never thought I'd have a second. When I had my first, I thought, wow, I have my hands full. But that's what you get when you aren't diligent on protection…Ha okay so I did not give actual birth this story per say, I just love writing. And if you enjoy reading my writing as much as I enjoy writing it, please review and tell me if this is worth while!

Much love

The Romantically Inept