WAITING IN THE TWILIGHT
As I had feared, the next few days were hell on wheels. I was on my way out the door at 6:30 a.m. to go to the photo shoot. It looked like Woodstock outside the gates of the compound and it took forever to get through all the fans and paps. I had planned on (well, hoped to be) driving myself, but Bill had insisted on the limo; now I could see why. I would have been overwhelmed by the crowd and would probably have just stopped for fear of hurting someone and then they would have torn my little car to shreds. Geez, I was going to have to buy a Humvee just to drive to the corner when I got done with this movie. I definitely was not going to be driven around for the rest of my life. We finally arrived at the Vanity Fair photo shoot, which was both unique and odd, but I loved the Old World 1930’s 40’s look and feel of it. I got the chance to jam for a while with some great jazz musicians and that really lifted my spirits. A bunch of teenage girls busted onto the shoot, but I took the time to sign autographs and pose for pictures with them; after all, they went to all the effort to come see me; it was the least I could do. Fortunately, they were calm and polite and only Squeee’d a little bit. It both tickled and confused me the way they reacted. I’m just a guy with a great job, that’s all. I just could not wrap my head around all the fuss they made. Despite the interruption, it was great fun and a nice change for the morning.
As I headed back to the film set to get my luggage, one thought made me very happy; I was wearing my red horse shirt the girls had asked for. I wore a white dress shirt over that and a black and red MTV leather jacket. I knew there would be paps at the airport, there was no avoiding that. I only had to catch the eye of one of them and tug at my collar. As we drove towards the airport, I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile and stared out the window. I could just imagine the posts that would be on MEoW tomorrow. I could practically hear their Squeee’s already. And there was one, one special lady, I so wanted to know what she would think and have to say on the subject. I closed my eyes and smiled trying to picture her face, the image I had of her. When I looked at the camera and tugged my collar, I knew the tug would be for all of them, but my smile would be for her.
The rest of the day was positively maddening. Getting in and out of the set was difficult at best, but the airport was absolutely treacherous. It was so bad that Dean and Emmett basically had to just force their way through, one pulling me, the other pushing me. I had no idea where my possessions were, or who had them. I just left it in their capable hands and tried to survive getting on the plane. All the while, I kept thinking this is absolutely insane! What do these paps want? They’ve got a billion pictures of me, is one more in my leather MTV jacket really going to make that much difference? Do they think I’m just going to stop and give them a full disclosure interview in the middle of an airport? WTF? And all of them screaming my name! GAH! It was deafening and just pure insanity. When screaming my name doesn’t work, they always start screaming insults, slander and false accusations, anything to get a reaction. I felt like a caged zoo animal! No, worse! An animal backed up against the wall by hungry, snarling, barking, foaming-at-the-mouth wolves. The paps were so bad here I decided to wait until we arrived in Vancouver to give the girls their signal. Besides, I figured our arrival in VC would be a bigger story to hit the presses than our leaving was and that the news would travel farther faster.
Sitting on the plane, the sudden silence was welcome and yet overwhelming, too. It was a 4 and a half hour flight from Baton Rouge to Vancouver. Four hours where I had nothing to do; four hours I wished I could spend talking to her. Instead, I sat there doing nothing. I stared out the window thinking about all that she had said and done in the short time since I had first noticed her. I felt like all the time I had spent on this blog was an act of some higher power, keeping me coming back until the time when she would post. I had talked to her for over an hour this morning, though it had only seemed like seconds, and then I barely got any sleep at all.
Gratefully, I dozed off for the last half of the flight. I slept hard, falling deep into the dream. It was different this time, yet the same. I was happier than I had been before. The mist had cleared quite a bit. She was more defined, yet still a shrouded, glowing, ethereal, alabaster figure clad in black silk, tempting me ever onward toward the broken tree. I chased after her joyously, knowing that soon I would catch up to her. Her giggle and laughter thrilled me and beckoned me to follow. Now at the tree, I sneak around and she is gone. I hear her sigh my name; I turn and her tiny, delicate hand gracefully reaches out for me. I smile; finally, she is mine to hold. I reach out to her and… Alice woke me just minutes before we landed. I was disoriented, confused and disappointed.
Leaving the airport in Vancouver was just as much of a nightmare as getting on the plane had been. We were swamped from the moment we entered the terminal. In order to hide my face, I had my Ray-Bans on and kept my head down. Because of this, I kept veering off the path to the car and Dean had to keep grabbing my arm and putting me back on course. Emmett was just slightly ahead of us, using his muscle to keep them at bay as much as possible. The paps were a bunch of vultures and I wasn’t going to give them any help in getting their pictures. Then I remembered the red shirt and my promise to JET and the girls. I took a deep breath, raised my head, looked directly at one of the cameramen and smiled. As I did, I shifted my jacket to make sure the red shirt would be seen, then pretended to straighten the collar. My smile grew bigger as I heard all of their Squees in my mind and pictured her face once more. Then I ducked my head back down and continued to the car. The whole scene took less than a minute but it fueled the paps’ hopes of getting me to talk and pose. Damn, they grew more aggressive every second. I rolled my eyes and began walking faster. We had meetings to attend as soon as we arrived at the film set and by the time they were through, we had a late dinner. I still didn’t know where my belongings were and I was so exhausted I just collapsed onto the bed. I fell asleep that way, still dressed, still wearing my shoes, lying diagonally across the bed.
I was dreaming again. “The” dream. When I woke up, I was physically reaching my hand out towards the wall, just a breath away from touching her in my dream. I was even smiling! Geez! I felt like an idiot! What if I started walking in my sleep, running around the set laughing and chasing someone who wasn’t there!? They’d all have me committed, that’s what. Good thing I went to bed fully dressed, I thought dryly. WTF was I doing dressed? I wondered. Then I remembered yesterday. It must be jet lag. Geez, all this running around and not sleeping and her, it was all wearing me out. I went into the kitchen of my new trailer to put on some coffee. As soon as I had a shower and changed, I was going to get some breakfast and see what I had missed at MEoW and Edattack ( – similar to a heart attack but can only be induced by Edward), her website.
As I stepped out of the shower, I tried to wrap a towel around my waist (the darn things were just barely big enough and even then there was a large portion of my thigh showing) and realized I hadn’t gotten any of my clothes yet. I looked around my bedroom in shock. Where were my bags? My guitar? My LAPTOP??? I darted into the living room; not there. I checked by the front door, again nothing. I searched everywhere but nothing was here. WTF? I had food in my cabinets and a fully stocked fridge but all my personal belongings were missing. I stormed back to the bathroom, grabbed my jeans, fished around in my pockets for my cell and called, who else, Jasper.
“Edward, I know. We’re working on it.” Jasper said by way of greeting.
“Well, that’s wonderful Jasper; would you mind telling me what the FUCK is going on? Where is all my shit?” I demanded. I didn’t care about my clothes and I could replace the guitar, though I loved the one I had, but the laptop? Holy shit! If people knew it was mine and they hacked into it? FUCK!
“Alice is out getting you some clothes now; I’m at the airport. Apparently somebody fucked up.” Though he was speaking in a normal tone of voice, I could tell by the way he said it he was directing his comment to an employee at the airport. “They got so jazzed up that it was your stuff they didn’t listen to what they were told. They thought you were going home so they put all the luggage and personal belongings on a flight to London…”
“LONDON?!” I yelled, raking my hands through my hair.
“I know, I know, but it gets worse.” Jasper let out a heavy sigh. Though to most people he would appear, even now, to be the epitome of calm I knew he was highly pissed off at this situation. Only the slightest inflection in his voice gave him away to those closest to him.
“How much worse?” I asked, with trepidation.
“A lot. There were three flights out to London yesterday. No one knows which flight the luggage was on.”
“WHAT?” I yelled.
“I know, Edward,” Jazz said.
“My laptop,” I sighed. He knew I was worried about what would happen if someone got their hands on it. It didn’t occur to me until that moment that both Jasper and Alice, if not Rose and Emmett too, were fully aware by now of my posts to EDGe on Edattack. Shit! Well, at least Jasper would understand just how dire this situation was.
“I know,” Jasper sighed. “Edward, I’m sorry. I’ll make this right, I swear.”
“It’s not your fault, Jazz. Just do what you can to get it back and keep her safe.” Jasper and I were so close, I knew I didn’t have to explain my last remark or what I meant by it.
I hung up and sat on the edge of the tub. I ran my hands through my hair, my phone still clutched desperately in my hand. Shit! I knew it! I should have stuck by my own rules and never posted on the internet. My mind was going crazy trying to remember everything I had ever posted. Especially that last conversation with my EDGe. In all honesty, I knew nothing had been said to be ashamed or afraid of; however, I knew the paps and journalists would turn our conversation into something hideous and nasty and perverted. Oh God! They would find her, they would drag her through the mud, I just knew it. I couldn’t stand the thought ; they would destroy her life and it would all be my fault. Oh me and my fucking clever idea to use the name ExtremelyCurious! EC! I might as well have broadcast it on national television. I nearly jumped out of my bath towel when my phone rang.
“Edward, it’s Jazz. We’ve found the plane your stuff was on. They’ve got someone on stand-by to sort through the luggage and find it. They are supposed to put it on a flight to Vancouver A.S.A.P.”
“That’s great. Who did they get? Can we be sure it’s safe?” I asked, still not daring to breathe easily.
“The head of security is supposed to handle it personally, accompanied by whoever is in charge of baggage claim over there.”
“Whatever, Jazz. Just make sure it gets on that flight and back here, okay? If…” I was pacing back and forth now in my tiny bathroom, which was about three steps in one direction.
“I know, I know, don’t say it. Don’t even think it!” Jasper told me.
“Then I’ll have it back tonight?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so,” Jasper replied
“What?” I exclaimed, dragging my hand through my hair yet again. The movement pulled the towel loose and it fell to the floor. “Well fuck!” I grab the towel off the floor but there was no way I could replace it with one hand on my cell phone. I stood there in my bathroom naked, my hand fisted so tightly around the bath towel my knuckles were turning white.
“I’m sorry, brother. The plane doesn’t land for another two hours and the return flight doesn’t leave London until 7pm tonight, that’s London time so they are 7 hours behind Vancouver, bro.” Jasper said. If he wasn’t such a calm man, I could have actually pictured him flinching, waiting for my response. There was no need to take it out on Jasper, it was hardly his fault. I was too frazzled and worried about EDGe to even try to do the mathematical calculations to that mess.
“All right, Jasper. Just let me know when it’s on the way back to me, okay?” I said.
“No worries, brother, I’ll take care of it and keep you posted.”
I hung up and dialed Alice.
“Oh, Edward, I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay, I’m sure of it.” She said, in place of hello. I rolled my eyes. Am I the last to know everything about my life? I would be glad when I got my laptop back. (It would never leave my side while traveling again!) If I decided to continue to talk with EDGe, at least it would be a private conversation my entire family wasn’t privy to, not to mention the rest of the world.
“Alice, could you please pick me up some bath towels that are big enough for a grown man?” I asked. I could hear her giggle and then try to cover her mouth to hide it.
“I’ll see what I can do, Edward.”
“Thank you.” I hung up and put my clothes back on. In all the confusion, I had forgotten about my hair. It was dry now and stood in wild disarray all over my head. Oh well, if anyone saw me this way they would probably think I looked “hawt”. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous thought of that and went to fix myself some breakfast.
Jasper eventually called me back to let me know my laptop was safely aboard the flight from London to Vancouver. Though a sigh of relief escaped me, I knew I would not breathe easily or relax until my laptop was safely returned to my hands. Then Jazz told me it wouldn’t arrive until sometime Sunday afternoon maybe later depending on weather. Well crap! I didn’t want to wait that long but I had no choice.
I couldn’t believe how much I thought about this woman. I didn’t understand why EDGe was just so impossible for me to forget or let go of. I wanted to talk to her, or at least read what she had posted, so desperately that I often caught myself stressing like some druggie coming down off a high without any more stash to fall back on. When I tried to push her from my mind and not think about her, I caught myself wringing my hands, smoking too much, pacing the floor and constantly running my fingers through my hair. I was a nervous wreck knowing I had no way of “seeing” her or “listening” to what she had to say. I had no way of knowing she was okay or talking to her. And all the while, I kept questioning myself on whether I should even attempt to talk to her again. If anyone ever found out it was me, the paps would hound her. They would track her down like the pack of rabid dogs they were and drag out every skeleton in her closet. Even if they couldn’t find any dirt on her, they would make it up or use the comments made on MEoW and LTE to ruin her, and me, if they could. I knew that, for both of our sakes, I should just forget it, forget her and never open my laptop again. I sighed deeply, knowing that, despite the risks, I couldn’t do that now. There were just too many unanswered questions. I realized that I was obsessing over her, becoming addicted to her, all the while telling myself that if I knew more about her I would lose interest. It was the mystery surrounding her that held me captive. I was an avid reader of novels and fan fiction and the way she wrote her posts and simple blogs intrigued me. That’s all there was to it. Once I knew more about her and uncovered her mystery, then I could get beyond my obsession.
Oh Lord, fan fiction. She had said she was thinking about writing one. I wondered if she had started it yet. I had encouraged her to; she had a talent for blogging and posting. Lord, she made me laugh. And the way she had described some of the wicked, sexy thoughts in her head, made it very clear exactly what she was thinking without so much as one vulgar word. Damn, that was intriguing and brilliant. It made me wonder, as did everything about EDGe, how she would handle a fan fic when it got down to the nitty gritty. Would she cruise along and breeze right over the lemons, or would she hint at them, point in a general direction and let the reader’s imagination carry them away, or would she step out from behind her blushing ways and write what she saw in her mind. I had a feeling that, behind all of her modesty and humility, I would discover a very passionate woman without any inhibitions. I fell asleep that night with those thoughts in my head, wondering about the fit, passionate woman wrapped in black silk and hiding behind a genuine blush.
I didn’t sleep well at all, tossing and turning all night. My dream was different, too. She was close, so close I could almost touch her. Her back was towards me but I knew she was waiting patiently for me. As I took a step to close the distance, I reached out my hand but she disappeared, lost in the ever thickening mist. The fog was thick, too thick to see through, and it was eerily cold, damp and dark. I was running in blind panic, lost, or trying to find what I’d lost, perhaps both. I ran and ran from one tree to the next, never finding her. I collapsed against a tree in desperation. Where was she? How had this happened? I had to find her, I had to get her back. I pushed myself away from the tree, propelling myself deep into the dark, enshrouding mist. Where was she? Wait, the tree, our tree! I ran in the direction I thought it should be. I wanted to call out her name but I couldn’t, I didn’t know it. As I ran, I realized something else was different; me, I was different. I was dressed in a black tux. The tie was missing and the top button was undone but there was a plain white silk scarf draped around my neck and lapels. I had been wearing jeans before and a T-shirt with a denim jacket over the top. Finally, the mist began to swirl and I could vaguely make out the shape of our tree. I ran faster. “Oh God, NO!”
I woke myself up screaming those words out loud. I was soaked with sweat. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. I felt as though I had been running for hours.
I sat on my trailer steps Sunday night and once more watched the sun set over the horizon, wondering what she was doing. I wondered what her life was like. I remembered her words; “When the sun sets gloriously over the horizon, I’ll be thinking of you knowing that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be looking upon that same sunset with me.” Oh, I am. I am. That seemed like all I did now. It had only been three days but it seemed like three months. After having sat outside for several hours, I went inside and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Too bad the damned airline had my guitar too; I was in the perfect mood to play, to really create something good. Thank God, I still had my iPod. It was still early for me, only a little after one in the morning. I went to my room and lay down on my bed, not bothering to turn on the light. There was a large window near the bed and I could see the sky and the moon from here. I put in my ear buds and pressed play. I hadn’t listened to my iPod in forever and I had actually forgotten some of what was on it. I laid there in the dark, staring up at the moon. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had seen this same moon tonight or had she been so caught up in her everyday life that she hadn’t taken the time to notice. When the song began, the keys of the piano immediately caught my attention but it took me a minute to recognize the song. I smiled; Bruno Mars’ “Talking to the Moon”. How apropos:
I know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far away,
I want you back, I want you back.
My neighbors think I’m crazy but they don’t understand,
You’re all I had, You’re all I had.
At night when the stars light up my room,
I sit by myself, Talking to The moon, Trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side, talking to me too,
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon. ohh ohh ohh
I’m feelin’ like I’m famous, the talk of the town,
They say I’ve gone mad, yeah I’ve gone mad.
But they don’t know what I know, Cause when the sun goes down,
Someone’s talkin’ back, yeah they’re talkin back, ohhh
At night when the stars light up my room,
I sit by myself, talking to the moon, trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side, talking to me too.
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon. ohh ohh ohh
Do you ever hear me callin’ oh oh oh, oh oh oh
Cause every night I’m talkin to the moon,
Still trying to get to you.
In hopes you’re on the other side, talking to me too.
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon. Ohh ohhh oh
I know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far awaaayy.
Just as the song was ending, my bedroom door opened and light from the living room illuminated Jasper’s entire left side.
“Hey brother, been looking for this?” he asked, holding up my laptop. My smile felt bright enough to light up all of Vancouver.
I thought about ExtremelyCurious a lot the next two days. I kept looking for her in the other blogs and on my own site. I just couldn’t understand how someone who had so much in common with Edward and was fully aware of him couldn’t see the attraction we all had for him. Why would you sign onto a blog that was all about him if you weren’t attracted? I kept remembering the post; I had told ExtremelyCurious, “stick with me and I’ll have you drooling all over the pretty.” The reply had surprised me, “…I can seriously say that I doubt I will ever “drool over Edward Cullen.” *rolling my eyes* “Definitely not!…” I just didn’t understand this. It sounded so final. I decided I would make a list of all the hawt and wonderful things about Edward and when/if ExtremelyCurious came back still curious, I would have a list of things to talk about.
Edward never did come back online after the red shirt request post from JET on MEoW. That had been Friday; this was late Sunday and still, nothing. I hated Sunday’s on the internet. It was so quiet on the blogs and since I lived alone and didn’t work now, it made me feel lonely.
I had been working on writing down a dream I’d had in detail. I was pretty sure I was going to write this story one way or another. It was about Edward and I really wanted to do it as a fan fic, mostly because I had never had the courage to send my work to a literary agent and get rejected (as I knew I would be). If I wrote it as a fan fic, I could get several varied opinions. Some from friends and others from people I didn’t know. I just wanted to know for sure what people thought of my idea before I started. I had sent out several e-mails to my blogger friends and was waiting until morning to hear from them.
I decided to look in on my website and see what I could dream up to put on there tonight. As I signed in, it posted a little tab at the top of my screen that said EdwardsDream-gurl was online. I had grown so accustomed to the silence on Sundays that when my e-mail alert sounded, it actually startled me.
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