Hello, people, welcome to my new story, Sugar Star. It took me aaaages because it's my first Belldwad fanfic and I wasn't sure of how to do it. Both Bella and Edward are new characters with which I'll have to experiment. Please be patient. Your reviews are vital for this story to progress!
I would tell you what I loved, but I prefer to give you Nothing. I would tell you what I love, but I prefer to give you Emptiness. I would tell you what I will love, but I prefer to give you a mirror.
It all started with an old piano inside an old diner run by an old man who lived in an old town. I happened to be walking outside this place, looking for my brothers after we'd split up to hunt. I could catch whispers of their thoughts and was about to follow these voices when I heard the old man complaining.
"Ah, my grandfather paid a fortune for it! Quite a lot of money, yes. The least I would expect is that the thing could hold itself together for a handful of years. But look at it! Standing there, taking the whole corner and not a single note comes from it."
Peeking inside the man's head I saw the object of his anger: a piano, the piano, an exquisite piece that looked totally out of place inside the diner. It was a pity to see it in such a state, for it must have been quite an instrument, so I thought that, given that I'd just hunted, I could take a look at it and, who knew, maybe there was a way to repair it.
I walked into the place and tried to avoid the eruption of thoughts that followed my entrance, addressing the owner immediately and offering my help to fix the piano. As soon as I sat myself in front of it I knew what the problem was: sheer neglect. Trying my hardest not to shake my head in frustration, I ran my fingers across the keys until they were perfectly tuned again, then I even played a bit of Debussy's Clair de Lune for everyone's enjoyment.
And it was there when It happened. When She happened. Right in the middle of the song the door of the diner opened and a middle-aged man came in. He was evidently the chief of police in that town, his attitude and thoughts said so. I'd barely had time to thank that his scent wasn't anything extraordinary when he turned around and called,
Right behind him, a girl appeared. She didn't look much older than seventeen or eighteen, but she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen: translucent skin so pure that it looked like a vampire's, soft, brown hair that fell in long waves across her back, and the most expressive eyes, the color of chocolate. She was certainly an amazing creature. I smiled at her, hopeful. Then the wind blew.
Before that, there isn't much to tell about me and my life. I had always been the outcast, the leftover of a family made of three golden, passionate couples. The loner and the freak, the one who heard voices in his head, the mind reader. No one else had a power similar to mine, and I'd always felt like a weird phenomenon in a society that was already weird.
I had my little pleasures, though. I loved my music and my books; across the decades I'd managed to have quite a collection of both, which made me very proud. There were my cars, too; once a week I would take one of the three I had and run at top speed on a nearby highway. The exhilaration of those moments was enough to keep me up and happy. And, of course, my sisters: Rosalie and more recently Alice. Those girls were my true joy. They understood how difficult and unpleasant could be for me to be constantly listening to people's boring thoughts and so whenever they were near me they would think jokes and pretty things to amuse me. Rose often played those jokes about blondes that she hated so much but that she knew cracked me up while little Alice was constantly singing the newest pop songs 'so I could hear a little of world and life'. I was too reserved to actually tell them, but they were the most thoughtful beings I'd ever met and I really appreciated the effort they did for me.
Not everyone was so kind, though. I admit it, most people had no idea of my talent, but hey, there are some things people should be at least a bit embarrassed to think about in the privacy of their brains. I got to hear the most interesting and crazy stuff, not always but mostly sex-related, and you'd be surprised to know how many respectable-looking people have such complex imaginations. Even my brothers, who did try to be easy on me, sometimes couldn't help their XY chromosomes and I got to learn things about my sisters that I definitely didn't need to know.
Still, no matter how long I'd know all types of men, my brothers and Carlisle, how long I'd heard their thoughts about their girls, the ideas they had, how they talked to them with sweet, sugary words (that was mostly Carlisle), I had no idea about how to deal with a girl myself, though I was curious and eager. Therefore, when the doors of that diner opened and Bella came in, I was assaulted by two impulses: one, to stand up, introduce myself and ask her out; two: to stand up and run away. And these needs got impossibly stronger when the current of wind that accompanied her hit me. Because if there has ever been a sweet, siren-like, mouthwatering, delicious blood, that was hers. How could I ever describe what Bella's blood meant to me? It was like being submerged in a pool for three minutes straight, like an hour-long migraine, like running in the fog like Scarlett O'Hara: desperation, frustration, the realization that the cure for your suffering is right in front of you, yet you cannot reach it. If only you could swim the few inches between you and the surface; if only you could find it and be safe. If only I could jump and sink my teeth in that white, soft, clean neck and break the vein I could see palpitate through her pale skin until her blood tinted my eyes. If only.
Trying my best to regain control, I focused on her mind. Usually, when I was assaulted by thirst of someone's blood in particular, listening to the person's thought helped me, because I was able to see them as beings with lives, loves, feelings, rather than just food. Jasper had taught me that; he did it with people's feelings and so far it had worked for both of us. But this time, when I searched for her mental voice, I found only silence. This can't be happening, I thought, and listened harder. She seemed shy, surely her thoughts were quiet and discreet. I detected the policeman's thoughts -he was the girl's father, apparently-, but no Bella around them. Could it be, that not only I had to face my first crush and my first 'singer', but also my first Silence, all in one? At the same time? That was beyond unfair.
Bella and her father sat at a table and began talking about their day. There was a good relationship between them, the conversation flowed with nice words, and I heard in the man's thoughts an extreme love of his daughter. Only child, it seemed, and his greatest treasure. From what I saw I his head, he was a widower and the girl represented the best memory he had from his wife. He regarded Bella as a sweet, good kid, and I couldn't less than agree. Just hearing her voice… soft, quiet, pleasant, the type of voice you want to lull you at night. I felt like I could hear that voice forever.
My phone rang. It was Emmett, surely to ask where I was, since I was half an hour late. I turned the thing off and played another song just to keep looking at her. Who would have said it, that it would feel this way. Who would have told me that it would take just one look for a storm to start inside me. I could imagine how my brothers would laugh when they heard this and my girls would jump in excitement and try to plan everything in my new story. I guessed I would do it all their way, since I was clueless. It didn't really matter if Alice organized one of her famous parties to celebrate the awakening of the family's bachelor or if Carlisle gave me the famous sex-and-love-with-a-girl talk that both Emmett and Jasper described as terrifying and traumatizing.
None of that mattered, because for the first time in my life I was in love.