Behind the Velvet Rope: The Emmett Chronicles


I can't believe I'm actually attempting to write another full length fic, but here I am, subjecting you all to my random ass thoughts.

This story has been sitting in the recesses of my mind for most of the spring. With help from my magnificent beta BlackJackLily this story's plotline was finally organized and flushed out, allowing this story to come to fruition. I owe so much to her, but alas, a thank you is all I have.

This story will be told exclusively from Emmett's POV, but it is not really a story about him, but all the events happening around him. Give it a whirl. Hopefully you'll enjoy it.

This story is rated M for a reason. There will be lots of lemons, some graphically told. I will make notes at the top of these chapters, but this is advanced warning.

Canon pairings – eventually – you're going to have to be a little patient.

Disclaimer: This applies to all subsequent chapters – I don't own Twilight, I do however own this plot and am using Stephanie's characters for my own non-profitable amusement. No infringement intended.


My name is Emmett McCarty and I've been working at Fire & Ice for the last two years as a glorified bouncer, bodyguard, watchman, and today…hero. I've seen some crazy ass shit go down at New York's hottest club du jour, but one thing's for certain, if I had known that taking this job would land me right here, right now, I probably would have had some reservations about signing on. One thing's for sure, I probably never would have met Rose, or if I had, she'd never have given me the time of day anyway. And she didn't, up until today when I had saved her life. But that's just a small piece of my story, of how I wound up in police station at four AM after almost killing a man.

Sitting on one of the crowded benches in the cold and damp jail cell, I waited for someone to bail me out, anxious to hear what was going on. I knew that holding me was mostly a formality, but I was still worried about what would transpire in the light of day. I could only pray that the charge would be dropped once the witnesses came forward and told their side of the story. But sitting there in that packed cement box that smelled of sweat, urine, and booze, I wanted nothing more than to make the time speed past. Thinking about everything that had happened to me over the course of the past two years made me wonder – with all the information I had accumulated, maybe I could write a book. Of course, it would be one hell of a book - laced with more sex than your average guy's spank bank, but it would be a great read. Kicking my Doc Martens up on the wall in front of me, I let my mind think about what my book would say. it would begin.

Bouncer. The job had seemed innocent enough; stand at the entrance letting the VIPs who were on the list and the prettiest of the pretty in the door. Not rocket science surely, but what started as a boring, if not freezing my ass off in the New York City streets kind of job, turned into a very profitable one deep down in the dark dregs of the hush-hush world of sex, drugs, and the underbelly of fame.

It never occurred to me the relationship dynamics that existed behind the flashing lights and pounding music. Each person that stumbled through that door had a part to play, a story to be told. It was my good fortune that I was able to bear witness to those stories, down to every good, bad, ugly and perverse detail. All kept hidden deep within the recesses of my mind, waiting to be revealed.

And this, this right here, is my story. The story you don't hear about in the papers or on TV. This is my firsthand account of all the shady, sexual, and lucrative happenings from behind the velvet rope.


I'm hoping to get chapter 1 up next week and then the posting schedule will be every other week after that.

Thanks so much for reading. Please leave your reviews, comments, theories, etc. I'd love to hear what you think.

I'll be posting teasers and other little tidbits on my blog. So follow me there or my twitter is mcgt2008

Blog: http: / mcgt2008. blogspot. com/ (remove spaces)

Thanks again for giving this story a shot,