Welcome! This story will be rated M for a reason, bad language, sexual innuendo, and sexual content to the extreme. If you don't like it, move on now. I will not be offended.

Thanks to Dollybigmomma for her wicked beta skills!

Life is So Unfair

Chapter 1 – Wanting it All


Damn, it was raining again.

Well, it was Washington after all, so I shouldn't have even noticed it as much as it happened here.

I grabbed my mail and then huddled under my umbrella as I darted across the campus toward my office. I reached my door and righted my name plaque again. My name, EdwardAnthonyMasenCullen, was finally displayed right side up. Someone had a really silly sense of humor around here.

I made my way around my desk and sat to go through my mail, rolling my eyes at the cute cushion my mother, Esme, had made for my chair. At twenty-five years of age, you would think she would stop babying me, even if I was the baby of the family. She and my dad, Carlisle, always did spoil us rotten. I had two older brothers, Emmett and Jasper, who our mother also babied about as much. Our parents were proud of us and told us so regularly.

Oh, and my brothers constantly told me I was boring.

I made myself a cup of tea as I watched the rain pounding the windowpane of my office. I held a Masters in Music and English Literature and lectured in Music at a small college in Washington State just outside of Port Angeles. I had been on staff here for two years now. The first year I lectured only in Music while continuing to work on my Masters in English Literature. Occasionally, I got the opportunity to stand in and teach the odd literature lesson. My full-time Music timetable still left me with ample spare hours to stand in for anyone absent in the English department. I jumped at the chance when they offered it to me. I loved music; writing it, playing it, and listening to it. I also loved literature; teaching it, reading it, and studying it. I couldn't have picked a more enjoyable career path and I was more than happy with my current position.

My father had been terribly disappointed when none of his sons had chosen to follow in his footsteps as a doctor. Emmett was a natural sportsman and so when he was offered a scholarship with a high-flying California-based college athletic team, he couldn't really refuse. Jasper's chosen profession was to go into the service. He had always had a morbid obsession with war and politics. After he had achieved a first in History, he applied to West Point and was accepted straight away. Right now he was away in Iraq. He loved what he did, and he thrived on keeping his men safe. Being so far from home, they both drove our mum mad with worry.

I chose to stay closer to home. I had my own apartment just three streets away from where my parents lived. My mum was always on hand to help me out should I need it; usually in the cooking department. Several times a week, I arrived home to find my freezer full of freshly-made food. Yeah, I had my mum cooking for me, so despite no wife or live-in girlfriend, I still ate well for a single man.

I was getting tired of being single, though. At twenty-five, I was ready to give myself to the right woman, fall in love, and see where life took us. I'd had a couple of relationships in the past that were nothing more than sex, or what my brothers liked to call 'fuck buddies', but now I was ready for more. I needed more.

Yeah, I really needed to sort out my private life.

I was a decent-looking guy, or so I had been led to believe. In high school, I had girls hanging on my every word, so I learned then that I had something women liked. I was never without a choice of dates. There was never anyone serious, though. I suppose you could say I was a bit of a "love 'em and leave 'em" kind of guy back then. However, I always made sure they knew exactly where they stood, as I wasn't ready to commit to anyone in particular. I enjoyed my freedom too much. I also had a plan: Uni, a year or two out to travel, play, and listen to music, and then get my career off the ground. No girl fit into that plan.

I liked my own company and tended to spend more time with my brothers than anyone else before they up and left home. Sometimes we would go out on dates together, but that stopped after a rather embarrassing dry humping session between Emmett and his then-girlfriend, Kate, in the back seat of my car. Yeah, I made him detail my car after that.

My experiences with the opposite sex had just gotten started back then. I had lost my virginity in a drunken fumble with a girl in high school. I think we were both embarrassed by the whole thing and never spoke of it after. Since then, I had played the field. I was not exactly a player, but I did not have a steady girlfriend; I just dated as much and whenever I wanted to and if that date resulted in sex, then all the better. Love never came into it.

My last relationship had lasted just under three months. Tanya Denali had great looks and a figure to kill for, but talk about shallow. All she did was preen and whine. Not a sensible conversation to be had with that one. When I'd asked her what her favorite book was, she had looked at me like I was crazy.

"A book, Edward, really? I don't do books. Vogue and Cosmo are my favorite things to read."

At first I had thought she was joking, but sadly no. Granted, she looked good on my arm, but what was the point in that when I couldn't talk to her about anything of consequence? I'd persevered, though, wanting to give her a chance. I was lonely and wanted someone in my life. I wanted to fall in love and be happy, share my life with a partner.

She had thought it strange that after I had learned about her distaste for books that I had not tried to have sex with her. I just couldn't feel any connection with her. Sure, I could have fucked her senseless and moved on, but I didn't want that sort of relationship. Even her hot body did nothing to get me in the mood after that. I guess I had matured past the "fast blondes with big tits" stage and had moved on to appreciating the "naughty nerdy librarian" types. I didn't think my dick ever forgave me for turning Tanya down, though. It was getting fed up with the same hand over and over again, but I wasn't settling anymore.

Emmett had surprised us recently by announcing that he had begun seeing Rosalie Hale, a girl we had grown up with and whose family were old friends of our family. They seemed so happy and I for once was envious of him. She was beautiful, funny, and, she loved cars. Apparently, she and Emmett had nothing in common these days other than 'mind blowing sex', his words not mine, and she could fix his car if it broke down. She was feisty and had balls of steel, and I loved the fact that my oldest brother had at last met his match. They were great together.

My tea had grown cold as I stood staring out the window. I really was lonely, not to mention feeling pretty sorry for myself. The decision not to settle for anything less than something real had left me with no one and I felt like just going home and wallowing in my pity party for a while. I finished what I needed to do and headed home to my empty apartment.

I wanted someone like my brother had for my own and I really hoped I found her soon.

The new school year was almost upon us and I was looking forward to taking over some more English Literature classes. At the end of last year, I had been approached to not only stand in for absences, but also to take one class as my own on a regular basis. I would also still cover the lecturer's absences where my timetable allowed. It meant I would teach two Literature classes each week. Each lecture lasted ninety minutes so I would still have plenty of spare time to do my own planning and conduct team meetings for my Music classes.

The extra pay would come in handy, as I was saving to buy myself a house. I didn't need anything big or fancy, just a small house with a garden, and if at all possible, a garage so I had somewhere safe to keep my beloved Volvo. It also wouldn't hurt that my mum could come and go without my nosy neighbors hanging their heads out of their flats observing her visits and assuming I had a cougar on call, wiggling their brows at me in passing. Cheeky gits.

Today, all the college departments were heading back in and setting up planning and team meetings. I needed to be in two places and needed to make sure their planning meetings did not clash. Mrs. Cope, the college's elderly bursar, knew everything there was to know about the college and would help me with my timetabling. I had made sure to email her during the break to let her know I needed to be included in the English Literature Department's staff rota as well of that of the Music Department.

When I walked into the staffroom, several people were already there and I stopped to speak to a few colleagues I already knew before collecting my mail. My pigeon hole was already full of papers. As I took them out, I noticed paperwork for both my Music and Literature classes. My schedule for the fall was looking full, with the exception of a few breaks for consults and the like. In Music, I would teach four separate classes twice a week. For Literature, I had one class twice a week. My timetable looked as busy as I had anticipated. I would also be expected to plan my lectures, meet with students needing support, and attend staff meetings from both curriculum areas. It would be a challenge, but I was capable and enthusiastic, and I loved a good challenge.

The Literature class was an undergrad first year group with twelve names on the class list. I smiled as I saw that all but three were girls. Not unusual in a Literature degree course. Even my own had been the same.

This year I was going to offer the more able musicians a chance to do some composing as well as playing and studying all aspects of the music curriculum. It was an area I had a special interest in and one I had excelled in myself. I was looking forward to seeing if it sparked any interest in some of my students.

The lecture theatres for English Literature were not teacher-specific. We tended to move around from room to room. The music rooms were different, each member of the staff having their own specific room. My music room would offer me some peace and quiet during my busy schedule. With only having one Literature class, all my lessons with this group were in a lecture theatre in the Priestley Building. It was a room I had not worked in before so I thought I'd take a peek before I started in earnest. It would, after all, be my first lesson. Next Monday could not come soon enough for me. I was dying to get my teeth into the new college year.

The curriculum for Literature excited me; well, some of it did. We were studying classic English Literature such as the Bronte's, Austen, Hardy, and Shakespeare to name but a few of my favorites. Unfortunately, I had lost my argument on the poetry. I had wanted to look in-depth at the romantics, but First World War poetry had won the vote. I found Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon a little depressing and found that they did little to inspire students' creative writing skills. I would have to think of ways to get them on board.

Back in my music room, I felt at home. Instruments adorned all corners of the room. I had requested a piano, and the upright I got was adequate I suppose, but the sound was nothing like a grand could create. I would have loved having a grand like I played when I visited my parent's house.

I hoped some of the students I was going to be teaching were real musicians and not all pop-idol wannabes. I was sure every so often a real talent came along, but I had yet to find one. Last year, I had a girl who was convinced she was the next Celine Dion. She must have been tone deaf because after just a few weeks, I could not stand to listen to her ruin anymore songs. I told her the truth in my opinion.

After many tears and me feeling guilty as hell, I found out from a colleague that she had been a bit of a laughing stock. They had all tried and failed to convince her she had no talent. They had hoped I would get through to her. I did, but at the expense of losing a bright student who could, with the right guidance, have achieved a good degree in Music. Her strength in the subject lay not in her singing or playing ability, but in her talent for writing the most incredible lyrics. No amount of cajoling and praise got her to stay. She transferred to a degree in Media Communications. I lost several nights of sleep wondering if I could have handled the situation better.

The rest of the staff thought I was mad for worrying over the loss of a student. I saw it as a failure on my part. I was encouraged that at least she seemed to have forgiven me for delivering the bad news. If I saw her around, she would smile and say hello. It made me feel at least a little better. One of the things I worried about the most in my position was being good enough to make a difference in the students' results. I was assured I could and did, but I had yet to believe it.

Orientation was tomorrow and all staff members were expected on campus to answer questions and be available for the extracurricular groups they were going to run. I had signed up to run two; one in Music and one in Lit. The music group would be easy. I was looking for talented musicians, not necessarily music student, just artists who wanted to form any kind of band or group. I played both the piano and guitar and could write music and lyrics. With the right sort of people, I hoped we could enter a few competitions.

In English, I had said I would be interested in a reading group where we could read then study a book and talk about it in groups. This was a popular type of group when I was studying and I hoped I would have a good response. I was open to the content of what we read and would leave that to the students.

Emptying my car of books, shopping, and newly-washed clothes, I made my way back into my apartment building. I would head to school early tomorrow. I wanted to be around in case there were questions and I was excited to meet my new students. As I walked into the apartment block's lobby area, a shiver ran down my spine. I got the feeling I was being watched. I turned quickly to look back outside, but I could not see anyone.

Of course, that did not mean they were not there.

So, let me know what you think now that this story has a whole new feel!