Disclaimer- I don't own Twilight.

So I kept trying to get the thought of this story out of my head, because I thought it would make me feel like less of a demented pervert, but then I couldn't sleep until I wrote it down.

So I said what the heck, I'll embrace my demented perverseness.

I encourage you all to do the same.

Hope you like it.



It was right before you ask your dream girl to prom.

It was right before you get braces for the first time.

It was right before you took your final exams.

It was right before you walked through the doors to your first job.

It was… scarier, more terrifying, and nerve wracking than all of those experiences combined.

Let me explain. Ever since I was a little boy, my parents showered me with Harvard paraphernalia to hang on my walls. They say that if a reminder of a goal was in your sight every day, you'd be more likely to reach said goal. My goal was to graduate from Harvard Law School and be the best lawyer anyone could hire. But before I could get there, I had to work my ass off studying for exams and this college application.

I didn't want to go anywhere but to Harvard… for a multitude of reasons.

I stared down at the manila envelope in pure shock, feeling my hands shake from the adrenaline running through my body.

"Well," my older brother said sharply, "-are you going to open that thing or stare at it all day."

Emmett, my uptight older brother, didn't understand what I was going through. He honestly didn't care whether or not I made it into Harvard. He was more concerned about me.

He knew, and I knew, that no matter what was inside this manila envelope, I wouldn't be able to go to my dream school.

Emmett gritted his teeth, "Open the goddamn thing already, Edward. You know this is driving you crazy. I think you're a real masochist for this," he grumbled.

Yes, he was acting pessimistic, yet he was the only one here for me. In a way, though, he was right. I was killing myself by applying to Harvard. If I got in, I couldn't go. He knew that would destroy me.

Without thinking another second about it, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the paper inside with shaky hands.

I gulped when I read the first line and pinched the bridge of my nose.

Emmett read it too and patted my back, "Look, man, maybe you could take out a loan…" he offered.

I shook my head and stood up, letter in hand, "I'm going to go take a walk."


"Yes, daddy, I'll be just fine," I said in a bored tone into my phone.

"I'm just worried about you, honey, it's your first time living alone in that big house…"

I rolled my eyes at my dad and sighed, "Daddy, it's Massachusetts, and you're only forty-five minutes away. I'm twenty-two, and perfectly fine living on my own," I huffed.

I watched as the last of the movers walked out of the house and I smiled brightly as I walked around my mansion. When my buzz-kill of a father finally hung up, I squealed and started blasting some of my favorite pop music.

I know, usually, twenty-two year olds didn't live in fully furnished and beautiful mansions, but my daddy's a rich man who loves his daughter.

Going to college was just a pass-time for me. I knew that my inheritance would never run out, so I'd never have to get a job.

I'd always be able to live a cushy lifestyle, and I was happy for that.

Even with my music blasting, something was missing… there was an uncomfortable sense of loneliness in the house.

Maybe I could get Alice (my roomie in college) to come live with me for a bit until I got used to the whole 'living alone' thing.

Maybe I could go get a drink, I hadn't stocked up on alcohol yet. I smiled and turned off my music, grabbing the keys to my bright pink Lamborghini.

I started humming California Gurls in my head as I drove to the nearest bar. I'm not an alcoholic, but I thought having a drink would calm my nerves about living alone. As much as I tried to tell my dad I wasn't scared, it freaked me out. I always liked living with Alice because I wasn't alone.

Maybe I could hire a live in maid… not that Joana isn't great, but she only comes two days a week anyways.

I sighed and walked inside of the bar, ordering the first thing that came to mind from the bartender. He winked at me and gave me my Sex on the Beach and I sighed as I downed it.

It wasn't enough.

I ordered tequila shots.

"Thank you, bartender! I love you! Can I get… some more?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Sweetie, you're drunk. I'm going to call a cab for you."

"But I brought my car!" I whined.

He finally shrugged and tended to someone else while I threw a few hundreds on the counter and stumbled out to my car.

One of my heels got caught in the pavement and I tripped, "Whoopsie!" I giggled and regained my step.

From my trip, I saw one of the small diamonds on my dress fall to the ground, "Shoot!" I huffed and picked it up, throwing it in my purse.

I swayed back over to my car, giggling the entire time.

I made a move to unlock the car, but paused. Sure, I was drunk, but not drunk enough to overlook the fact that I can't drive.

"Shoot!" I pouted. How was I supposed to get home? I contemplated calling my dad, but he'd be mad at me for being irresponsible or something like that.

I looked around and started to tap my foot.

"Ooh, he's cute," I said and looked over at the man sitting on the curb. He had a piece of paper in his hands and was running his rather large hand through his messy, copper hair. His white shirt stretched over his muscles.

I licked my lips and stumbled over towards him.

"Hey, mister!" I said, tapping one perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder.

Very OOC, see? Emmett's uptight, Bella's a party girl, and Edward's the poor one. But I have my reasons. Rest assured, future chapters will be much longer, but this is just to start us off.

Should I continue?