A/N: This is my first Twilight fic, so any feedback is very welcome. I'm always a few chapters ahead with writing, but I'll happily listen to any input by readers. I know this chapter is quite short, but I promise they will get a little longer.
A special thank you goes to MsSailorman for being kind enough to beta this fic for me.
Disclaimer: We all know these characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, so I won't be repeating this at every single chapter. The plot however is mine, mine, mine *insert evil laugh*.
Meeting Bella Swan
Chapter 1: An Important Day
Today I was going to meet Isabella Swan.
I was one of the very few people who got to have an interview with her. I worked as reporter for Revolver Magazine and, as Isabella Swan's new album was about to hit the stores in a few days, she was doing a little promotional work. Let me stress the little there; only a few big magazines were invited to a listening session and even fewer got to have an interview with her.
Isabella Swan was a private person. Or at least, that's what everybody assumed, seeing that there wasn't much to go on. She did touring, TV performances and such, but she didn't have signing sessions, she didn't give a lot of interviews – none on camera even – and there was very little personal information about her available.
So, when I heard I had the opportunity to interview Isabella Swan, I had to admit I was pretty excited. I started working for Revolver years ago, at first only reviewing concerts and albums of unknown bands but I had slowly worked my way up and now I was one of the main reporters which was why I got the assignment.
Because this interview was so important, I prepared myself even better than usual. Not that I usually didn't prepare myself, but those interviews were mostly more relaxed. This time, it kind of felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I wasn't going to screw this up. Lately, I had been listening to Bella Swan's previous albums quite obsessively and I had gone through all the minor facts that were known about her. I had even checked the gossip websites to see if there was something else there, but it turned out even paparazzi had a hard time stalking her to take pictures of her drinking her morning coffee in a Starbucks.
I had set my alarm clock extremely early today, wanting to make sure I didn't oversleep. It was ridiculous really, because now I was sitting here in my hotel room just waiting for the clock to read 8:30. I was all set; I had even packed my bag yesterday evening already and now all I could do was wait. For a moment, I felt like a geek that had no life but I quickly told myself it was good thing I was well prepared.
When it was eight, I decided to head out so I could grab a coffee and some breakfast in the little place I'd seen yesterday, just around the corner of the hotel. I went through my bag one more time to make sure I really had packed everything I'd need and made my way to the coffee place. After a quick breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and coffee, I got another coffee on the go and grabbed a taxi to the building of the record company where the listening session would be held. Thinking of the upcoming interview, I scolded myself as I realised I kept running my hand through my hair, one of my classic nervous habits.
The receptionist at the record company showed me to the right room, flirting with me while we walked there. She was annoying the hell out of me when she deliberately brushed her breasts against the side of my body while she held the door for me. I never liked it when women were too eager. I hoped my forced smile was a polite one as I told her thanks.
A few fellow reporters were already waiting in the room and slowly more journalists were arriving. Of course Isabella's manager was delayed – somehow that always happened at these kinds of things – and the listening session started fifteen minutes later than planned. As far as I could judge from hearing the CD only once, I had to say Isabella Swan's vocals had developed a lot and she was experimenting with different kind of singing styles. The music itself had more of a rock sound than her previous releases, much to my liking, but the songs were still catchy enough to sell.
After the listening session, the manager told the reporters that were to have an interview with Isabella herself to wait while the other journalists were asked to leave. There were only two – fuck yeah, I am one of two to interview her – of us left and the manager took us to a room a few levels up.
"There are some strict rules about the interviews." Isabella's manager told us while he got what I assumed were statement papers out of his bag, "No questions about her personal life, personal relationships, personal whatever. Nothing will get published until it has been approved by Miss Swan herself and her management and if something is said off the record, it is definitely off the record and we don't want to ever see it published anywhere." He handed out the papers and I was right about it being for statements, "If you'll sign these, the interviewing time can begin."
After signing the copy given to me I handed it back to the stern-looking manager. I wasn't really used to this sort of thing but I had already assumed something alike would happen, seeing how little publicity work Isabella Swan did and how it was so important to her that her personal life remained private.
It turned out I was scheduled to be the second and last one to see her and I was told to wait in the room we were currently in. The manager left with the other journalist and a few minutes later a middle-aged woman came in, bringing me coffee. Before I could even tell her thanks, she left and I decided to mentally go over all the questions I had planned to ask again while drinking my coffee.
As time passed by, I was starting to feel a little nervous. Never before had I been nervous for an interview. No, that wasn't true. I had been scared shitless before my first interview but that was only normal. I tried to convince myself I was as prepared as one could be and, logically, I knew I was. It didn't really help though. Maybe I shouldn't have had six cups of coffee within – I checked my watch – two hours and forty-five minutes. Yeah, probably not that smart, but what can I do about that now?
I got interrupted from my musings when the manager entered again, practically scowling at me.
"Miss Swan is ready to see you now."
I smiled internally, thinking about how it sounded like I was being called to the principal back in high school. I got up from my seat taking my bag with me and followed the manager. He stopped at a door near the end of the hallway.
"Just a sec."
He opened the door and got in, not fully closing the door behind him so I could still hear what was being said.
"Sure, Jazz, bring him in."
Jazz? That's the managers name? No wonder he hadn't properly introduced himself. What kind of name is that?
The manager opened the door fully and I was let in. I was taken aback the moment I locked eyes with her, an unfamiliar feeling running through my body. I cleared my throat, trying to focus on something – anything – else than this weird feeling and put on my best professional smile.
She was sitting Indian-style on a white couch, wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt and a halfway zipped-up hoodie, her hands folded around a cup of steaming coffee. She wasn't wearing any make-up and her hair was put up in a messy bun, a few strands hanging loose around her face. She was looking at me with the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen, a shy smile played around her lips and her cheeks had a pinkish glow.
Of course I had seen her on photos before, mostly from her live performances or promotional photo shoots, but not a single picture had shown her true beauty. She was gorgeous, divine-looking really, even while sitting here looking like she was spending a Sunday afternoon on the couch at her own house.
"Hi." She greeted me.
"Hi." I greeted her back and extended my hand to introduce myself to her. "I'm Edward Cullen, Revolver Magazine."
"Nice meeting you, Edward." She let go of her coffee cup with her right hand and shook mine, her hand incredibly warm. "I'm Bella Swan."
The moment our hands touched, I simply knew it;
Today my life was going to change forever.