Chapter 2: Unbelievable

Chapter 2: Unbelievable

BPOV

I collapsed back onto the bed in my hotel room. I had just had quite possibly the most tiring 24 hours of my entire life. It had passed in an almost constant series of magazine interviews, television interviews, photo shoots and screaming crowds of fans. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and I felt like I was about to pass out.

The week that had passed since the final had been filled with what I considered to be utter madness. I could barely leave my hotel without the bodyguards assigned to me by the TV station, because there were so many people hanging around. Photographers, news crews, magazine reporters; everyone wanted to talk to me, see me, get as close to me as possible.

To my intense surprise, I loved it. I was never one to be comfortable in the spotlight, but for some reason, the feeling I got from singing over-rode all my insecurities. The music flowing through me gave me new confidence in myself and what I was capable of. And then there was the drive, the drive that first set me on this course, though the goal had been very different when I started.

I remembered Jacob telling me how listening to music helped him feel better when he missed his mom or his sisters, and wondering if it might help me too. I remembered him talking me out of ripping the stereo out of my truck. I remembered him suggesting I try learning to play the guitar. I remembered him saying I had a nice voice when I was singing along to the radio. I remembered him showing me the ad in the paper, and coming with me to the auditions, and going with me to the airport when I flew out to L.A., promising to vote for me every week. Jacob was right; music did help me. Only, it didn't help me in quite the way either of us imagined.

At first, I wanted to forget him, forget them, forget any of it ever happened. I thought the music would help me let go and move on. But it didn't. It helped me get closer, and I found I could move past the bad things. Sure, I still cried. I still had nightmares. I still sang sad songs, and I still ached in my chest, and it still hurt that they had abandoned me. But all of a sudden, I remembered all the good times. I remembered his smile, his face, the way he looked in the sun, and it didn't crush me. I could think his name without the hole opening up. I could think of all of them; Edward, Alice, Emmet, Esme, Carlisle, even Jasper and Rosalie. I could picture all their faces and remember all the fun we had. The way we danced at prom; the movie he took me to in Port Angeles two weeks before we went back to school; the shopping spree Alice dragged me on, and he came too. He carried all the bags, and put up with his sister bossing him around all day, just to be with me. I smiled at the memories.

I could smile. I could laugh. I could sing happy songs as well as sad ones. I was part way to being alive again, and this competition – and my victory, though I never expected it – was just one more step down that road. Now, I sang for a different purpose.

I sang to be seen. To be noticed.

When I sang, every time I sang, I felt like I was holding up a giant, neon, flashing sign telling Edward that I still cared, that I was still here, and I would always be here, whether he loved me or not. On every stage, I opened myself up to the world and showed them everything about me. That was another goal of mine. I had two.

One, send Edward a message, if he cared enough to watch me.

Two, be nothing but myself for the people who did watch. I would by-pass the fakery and smokescreens of Hollywood and just be me.

A knock on my door jolted me out of my musing.

“Yes?” I called.

The door opened and the balding head of the hotel manager peered around it. He smiled at me, and I smiled politely back.

“Good evening Miss Swan. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I have a small request to make. You are quite free to refuse if you wish, and I will completely understand.”

My smile dropped into a frown; I was exhausted, and I didn't know how much more I could do before I collapsed.

“What kind of request?” I asked.

“Well,” he took out a large red handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “We were wondering if you would do us the honour of singing in the lounge this evening. Just a song or two, of course, I can see you are quite tired. As I said, you are welcome to refuse. But you are leaving us tomorrow, and we have yet to be graced with a live performance, and I know our guests would like to hear you without the filter of television speakers.”

I pursed my lips for a moment. It would be nice to do a song or two just for fun. I hadn't actually done any singing since the night of the final, though I had done plenty of talking.

I smiled. “Of course. I would love to sing for you.”

Ten minutes later, I had changed into a fresh set of clothes, ditching my jeans and t-shirt for a new skirt and a sequinned tank top. I even risked possible injury by wearing a pair of heels; Alice would have been proud.

The hotel manager met me at the entrance to the lounge, smiling and thanking me profusely for 'bestowing such an honour on his humble establishment' - otherwise known as a five star hotel in central Los Angeles- before leading me into the backstage area.

I brushed off his irritating behaviour, focusing on preparing myself for the performance. The house band knew the song I wanted to sing – just the one, as I was very tired – and all I had to do was do what came naturally.

The host for the evening stepped up on stage as the previous act finished; it seemed the hotel was having a sort of open mike night tonight.

“Wasn't that lovely?” the woman cooed. She was blonde, with far too much make-up and an obviously enhanced cleavage that made even the hotel uniform look lewd and trashy. “Next up, we have a real treat for you. Fresh from her monumental victory on American Idol, ladies and gentlemen, Miss Bella Swan.”

There was a loud round of applause as I stepped onto the stage, and a few people cheered. I smiled and waved once as I carefully adjusted the microphone to my height.

“Good evening everyone. It's lovely to see so many of you here tonight. Please don't expect too much from this; I’ve been going all day and I can't guarantee that my voice will be any good. But, I’ll do my best.”

I smiled as more people cheered.

“This song is called 'The Only Exception'. Hope you enjoy it.” I said, then nodded to the band, who began to play.

“When I was younger I saw

My daddy cry

And curse at the wind.

He broke his own heart as I watched

As he tried to reassemble it.

And my momma swore that she would

Never let her

Self forget.

And that was the day that I promised

I’d never sing of love

If it does not exist.

But darling
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception.

Maybe I know somewhere
Deep in my soul
That love never lasts.
And we've got to find other ways
To make it alone
Or keep a straight face.
And I’ve always lived like this
Keeping a comfortable
Distance.
And up until now I’d have sworn to myself that I’m content
With loneliness
Because none of it was ever worth the risk.

But you are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception.

I’ve got a tight grip on reality but I can't
Let go of what's in front of me here.
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream.

You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception

You are
The only exception
You are
The only exception
And I’m on my way to believing.
And I’m on my way to believing.”

The crowd applauded even louder than they had before, and there were whistles and shouts and cheers from every corner. I smiled and bowed, then left the stage and hurried back up to my room. I really needed to get to sleep if I was going to get any rest at all tonight.

As I approached my room, I realised there was light coming from under my door. Strange, I was sure I had turned off all the lights before I left. Perhaps one of the hotel staff had been in and didn't switch it off before they left. My heart leaped into my throat as a very frighting and very real possibility came to mind; Victoria. Jacob, now a werewolf like the men in the stories of his people, had told me she was hanging around Forks, and I knew she was looking for me. I had no one to protect me here; had she decided to come after me when I was alone?

I crept towards the door. I heard no movement on the other side, but that didn't guarantee that there was nobody in there. As quietly as I could, I slid my key card into the lock and opened the door.

The room was empty, as it had been when I left. But the doors to the small balcony were wide open, revealing the LA skyline, and the faded stars in the velvet night sky.

I frowned, wondering why. I noticed my laptop – one of the many gifts from my new label - sat open on the bed. Strange, I hadn't even had it out before.

I went over to look at it... and gasped. The internet browser was open, showing a YouTube video of my final performance at the Idol finale. Whoever was watching it had paused just as I finished the song and smiled at the audience, and placed a little yellow post-it note next to my face.

I remember too
E

My head spun, wondering what it could possibly mean. Because it couldn't be... could it? Had he seen me perform? Heard me singing about him and to him, baring my soul for the world to see? I suddenly felt even more light headed than before. All I could contemplate was the thought of going to bed and sleeping until someone woke me up.

So I did. I closed the computer, hibernating it rather than shutting down, pushed it into my bag and changed into my pyjamas. Then I curled up under the covers and sank into my dreams.

“Bella... Bella... where are you?”

The voice was calling to me. His voice.

“I'm here!” I heard myself shout, but I hadn't opened my mouth. My voice came from someone else, somewhere else. I turned, looking for the source of the noises.

Bright light broke through the darkness, washing over me and revealing a very familiar scene: Charlie's kitchen. I saw myself, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with my hair tied back, standing at the sink washing dishes. Unusually bright sunlight streamed through the windows, and music flowed from a little radio on the sill. My dream-self swayed her hips to the beat and hummed softly, breaking into song every now and then.

Edward appeared at the kitchen door, and a sharp pang of longing went through me at the sight of him. He was smiling widely, the look in his eyes adoring as he stared at dream-me across the room. His skin sparkled as he crossed the floor, glittering like diamonds and casting patterns of light over everything in the room. His beauty was almost too much to bear.

“You have a wonderful voice my love. I don't know why you don't want to share it with the world.”

Dream-me scoffed. “I'm not that good. Besides, I have nothing to sing about. And if I shared my 'talent' with the world...” she turned around, smiling at him, “I wouldn't be able to spend time with you anymore.”

“A tragedy,” he agreed, putting his arms around her waist and dipping to kiss her.

My heart broke. This should have been how things were. This should be us. This would have been us, if there was no such thing as monsters and we were a normal couple. But then... if there was no such thing as vampires, Edward would have died in 1918 and we would never have even met. That thought made me shudder.

I watched as the couple before me laughed and played while they finished the dishes, flicking water at each other. The glaring sparkle of Edward’s skin steadily dimmed to a ruby red glow, then vanished all together, just as Charlie returned, smiling for once. The three of them chatted animatedly over dinner, then Charlie went to watch ESPN and the youngsters moved upstairs. I didn't want to watch anymore, and yet I couldn't stop. It was a perfect day – my dream day – that could have happened any time during that glorious summer before the disaster of my birthday, but it never had. Of that I was sure; this heaven was entirely the work of my subconscious. And so I was left to watch as the fictitious Edward sang the dream Bella to sleep, and held her until the first rays of sun peeked through the curtains and made him start sparkling all over again. He kissed her forehead and slipped stealthily from her window, the contented smile on his face matching hers.

I came out of my dream more gently than I had in months. Despite the pleasant subject matter, I just felt more dejected, thinking of what might have been. My teeth gritted together and I frowned. I realised I was angry. Not just angry; murderously furious... at him. I had never, in all the time since he left me, been angry at Edward for what he did. I had always blamed myself. I was too weak, I wasn't enough to hold his interest, I made the mistakes, he deserved better than me. Now I began to feel that perhaps that wasn't true.

If Edward had really taken the trouble to get into my hotel room and leave that note, why hadn't he stayed? Why hadn't he waited for me, talked to me, attempted to explain? Did he care enough to bother contacting me, but not enough to actually see me? I didn't know.

I did know that I still loved him no matter what, but I decided then and there that getting back in my good graces wasn't going to be easy for him. I wasn't going to fall at his feet as soon as he turned up; he would have to work if he wanted me back. And if he didn't, well...

His loss.

Chapter 1: Winner

“We're down to our last finalist, and believe me, if you're looking for the total package, look no further than this girl, because she has got it all. Singing a song she wrote herself – she's come a long way to be here tonight, so give her a big hand – ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, with 'In My Head', it's the one, the only... Isabella Swan!”

WHAT!

Chapter 1: Winner

In seconds I was standing in the living room, as was every body else, staring open mouthed at the screen. Sure enough, there she was. Bella. Walking out onto that brightly lit stage with the crowd cheering. Her smile was shy but friendly, and she had a guitar in one hand. I could see she had a little make up on, not much, but more than she used to wear for certain, and she was wearing her own jeans and the blue blouse that always looked so wonderful on her. None of us could make a sound. I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them, focused on the image on the screen.

Bella sat down on a high stool in center stage and propped her guitar up on her knee, gently adjusting the microphone in front of her.

“I wrote this song for my best friend,” she said, her sweet voice sounding clear as crystal through the speakers. “I hope you like it.”

The crowd applauded, and several people screamed. She smiled and focused on her instrument. They fell silent as she found the chord she needed, and began to play. A little string quartet played along with her for a few bars. Then, she sang.

“You've helped heal these wounds during the past few months, oh oh
And I can't thank you enough,
Always put a smile on my face, made sure that I was always better than ok,
Always wanted you to stay, please stay.”

A drum kicked in with the beat as the chorus started, drowning out the strings, though they remained, and the amplification of Bella’s guitar rose so it could be heard.

“I hear his voice in my head,
Distracts me from what you just said,
The memories are going dead,
From my consciousness.
Danger brings him close,
And when the memories fade I need a stronger dosage,
Now both of our promises are broken.”

In the next instrumental, a piano added to the mix of instruments, playing a very familiar melody. Before I could work out what it was, she was singing again.

“You're my personal sun when my mind blows a fuse,
And I sincerely hope that I’m not using you,
You mean a lot you do,
Thank you,
And even though I am really missing him,
You calm the pain, I feel your outer warmth within,
Is my life a living sin,
Surviving on adrenaline?

I hear his voice in my head,
Distracts me from what you just said,
The memories are going dead,
From my consciousness.
Danger brings him close,
And when the memories fade I need a stronger dosage,
Now both of our promises are broken.

They are broken,
This wound on my chest that he left open,
You held it together with your bare hands,
The decision I’ve made,
You will never understand.

Cause the lullaby he hummed in my ear would never,
No the lullaby he hummed in my ear would never,
Could never disappear.”

I knew the melody now, as it played underneath her singing and she sang about it. It was the lullaby I wrote for her almost a year ago. Did she remember it? Did she know it that well, that she could write it down and tell a pianist how to play it? Obviously she did.

“I hear his voice in my head,
Distracts me from what you just said,
The memories are going dead,
From my consciousness.
Danger brings him close,
And when the memories fade I need a stronger dosage,
Now both of our promises,

I hear his voice in my head,
Distracts me from what you just said,
The memories are going dead,
From my consciousness.
Danger brings him close,
And when the memories fade I need a stronger dosage.”

She continued to play to the end of the song, and the crowd roared as the last notes of the guitar faded away. She smiled and waved as the presenter crossed the stage to her. Tiny tears sparkled on her cheeks, but she looked triumphant as she climbed down from her seat and began to talk to the presenter. She seemed so confident, not at all frightened or uncomfortable. The Bella I knew would be blushing bright red by now, but she seemed perfectly happy.

I didn't realise I was being moved until I felt myself pushed down onto the sofa next to Alice. Esme perched on the arm rest beside me, smiling kindly down at me when I looked up.

“I thought you had better sit down. You honestly looked like you were going to fall.” she said, her eyes soft.

Alice began to rub my shoulder. “I didn't put it on on purpose Edward; I didn't know she was going to be on the show. I just came across it when I was channel surfing, and it looked good.”

“It's ok.” I wanted to say, but the link between my brain and my mouth was obviously faulty, because what came out instead was, “She remembers.”

“Of course she does.” Esme answered gently.

“Let's give Edward some peace shall we?” Carlisle suggested, and there was a series of murmured agreements. One by one, my siblings and the Denalis left the house and vanished into the woods. Only Alice stayed, sitting beside me on the sofa and resting her hand comfortingly on my shoulder. Together, we watched the other two contestants sing a second song each before Bella came back on stage and gave a rendition of 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' that had the female judge in tears and the other two utterly speechless. Her voice was beautiful, ten times better than her fellow finalists, and there really was no question of who would win. Of course, Alice made sure to text in her vote for Bella, then took my cell phone out of my pocket and did the same for me. I didn't care. I was too busy watching.

Eventually, the presenter got ready to announce the winner. All three acts stood on the stage, the boy in the middle with Bella on his right and the other girl on his left, while the presenter stood above them on the balcony. Despite my certainty that she was the best, I found myself nervous, and desperately hoping she would win.

“Ok, here we go. It's the moment you've all been waiting for, the moment these three performers have been building up to since their first auditions. They've all come a long way, but only one can be named this year's American Idol, and win all our fabulous prizes. I’m being given our results right now, and I can tell you that our third place goes to...”

There was a tense silence, broken only by the ominous background music; not even the crowd was making a sound.

“Caroline Porter, from Green Bow, Alabama!”

There was a loud cheer, and the girl collapsed to the ground in floods of tears. Bella and the boy rushed to comfort her, as did the judges who stood off to one side, and she was escorted gently off stage. The boy reached out and gripped Bella’s hand tightly, and a stab of irrational jealousy went through me. She smiled at him quickly, then returned to worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Our condolences to Caroline, didn't she do great everybody?”

Another round of applause. I was beginning to get impatient.

“Well, we're down to our final two; Jack Marsden, from Los Angeles, California, and Bella Swan, from Forks, Washington. One is our winner, one is joining Caroline and our other contestants, and going home empty handed. Ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you that the winner of American Idol is...”

The crowd were not silent this time. They roared and cheered and screamed and chanted the name of their favourite at the top of their voices. Jack smiled and waved, while Bella carried on biting her lip. Now she looked more like the girl I remembered. All her confidence had drained away as she faced the chance that she wouldn't win; you could see how much she wanted it, how much she craved it. We all waited for the presenter to say the name of the winner.

“Isabella Swan!”

The stadium erupted. The screams of the crowd were deafening as the lights came up in a blazing burst and confetti canons exploded. Scraps of red, white and blue ticker tape rained down on the stage. Bella’s mouth had dropped open in surprise, and she seemed unaware of everyone around her, even as she was embraced by Jack and the judges. The camera swooped up and around the studio to show the crowd on their feet, cheering. Alice leaped up from the couch and began to dance around the living room, shouting, “Yes, yes, yes! I knew it! I couldn't see, but I knew she would do it!”

Slowly, a smile spread across my face as it sunk in that she really had won. She seemed to realise it too, because she did exactly the same thing, at exactly the same time.

The presenter caught up to her then, and began to ask her questions. Bella was almost speechless with shock, but she did her best to answer each one. I kind of zoned out, listening to her voice more than her words, and watching her face. Then the presenter asked her something that made Alice, Bella and I all freeze.

“You said early on in the competition that you were just recovering from a bad break-up. What do you think that guy thinks of you now?”

She seemed to consider her answer for a moment. “I think... if he's watching... I don't really know. I’d like to think that he is happy for me, but I don't expect anything else. He made it very clear that things aren't the same between us, for him at least.”

The presenter nodded, wisely choosing to end his questions there. “Well, how about you give us one more song to finish, huh? Do you think you're up to that?”
Bella smiled widely and nodded. “Sure, one more song can't hurt.”

“Alright! Ladies and gentlemen, your American Idol, Bella Swan!”

The crowd cheered again as everyone except Bella and the musicians left the stage. She whispered in the ear of the guitarist and he nodded. Then she grabbed the microphone next to him and came to the middle of the stage.

“This song is for my ex-boyfriend. If he is listening, I want him to know that I mean every single word.”

I expected her to sing a typical break-up song, something telling me that she didn't care any more, and she wouldn't take me back if I begged her. But, as usual, she surprised me.

“A chair is still a chair,
Even when there's no one sitting there.
But a chair is not a house,
And a house is not a home,
When there's no one there,
To hold you tight,
And no one there,
You can kiss goodnight.

A room is still a room,
Even when there's nothing there but gloom.
But a room is not a house,
And a house is not a home,
When the two of us are far apart,
And one of us,
Has a broken heart.

Now and then, I call your name,
And suddenly your face appears.
But it's just a crazy game,
And when it ends,
It ends in tears.

So darling, have a heart,
Don't let one mistake keep us apart.
Well, I’m not meant to live alone,
Turn this house into a home.
When I climb the stair and turn my key,
Oh please be there,
Still in love,
With me.”

The program ended, and Alice turned off the TV. Silence engulfed us for a moment. Then I stood up.

“Edward?”

I didn't speak. I just decided.

Alice smiled. “I knew you'd come around eventually. She'll be at the Marriott hotel in LA until Friday. Take Carlisle’s care, I’ll let him know you have it. Go; she's waiting for you.”

I grinned at her, my first proper smile in months. “Thanks little sister.”

She rolled her eyes and began shoving me towards the door. I didn't need telling twice.

I had only one thought as I started the engine of Carlisle’s Mercedes and began tearing down the highway towards the Canadian border.

Time to get my Bella back.

Prologue: Discovery

Welcome to the blog for my Fanfic Vampire Idol!
Summary: New Moon AU. After Edward's departure, Bella turns to music in an attempt to get over him, but finds herself drawn further into her memories and longings. When Bella appears on the final of American Idol, will it be enough to get him back for good?
Enjoy!
Glitterb
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Prologue: Discovery

EPOV

I stared blankly at the wall of the room that had been dubbed as mine. It wasn't mine, not really. It was a guest room in the Denali sisters' house. There was no life in it, no personality, but I couldn't summon the strength to move from my current position, let alone try to change anything. It wasn't worth it anyway. Nothing was worth anything, not any more. In the words of Emily Bronte, the universe had turned to a mighty stranger, and there was no one to blame but myself. This vacancy, this inability to rouse my self to any action, this utter desperation, was all of my own making; that only served to make it even more unbearable.

A television was running down stairs. I wondered who was watching it. It wasn't football or baseball, so it couldn't be one of my brothers. Not a cooking or real estate show, so not Esme either. Carlisle preferred to read that watch TV. One of the girls then. But which one?

“It's Saturday night, we're live, and this is the final of this year's American Idol! Tonight, you will decide once and for all which of our three remaining acts has got what it takes to win the competition. They all want it, and they've all come a long way to get here, but tonight, only one person will be deemed worthy of a $1,000,000 cash prize, a record deal with Sony Records, and the chance to perform for the world, including the President of the United States, live on national television, as well as the title of …American Idol!”

Ah, a talent competition. Singers apparently. Alice then; she loved that kind of thing.

Well, I mused, I may as well listen. It's not like I have anything better to do.

The program went on and on. Every part was dragged out as much as was humanly possible, and it seemed to get more and more tedious. Sure, the singers were good, but none were outstanding in any way. The songs they sang were repetitive and predictable, and most of them were completely unsuitable for their voice, and too difficult for their ability. The first two contestants passed without incident, and I wondered why Alice continued to watch it. Their stories were supposed to be heart wrenching – one lost her parents at a young age, the other one was in a gang when he was in high school – but they just sounded trite and ridiculous.

I somehow managed to lift myself to my feet, with the intention of telling Alice to turn the stupid program off. Then, I heard the presenter announce the next contestant.

“We're down to our last finalist, and believe me, if you're looking for the total package, look no further than this girl, because she has got it all. Singing a song she wrote herself – she's come a long way to be here tonight, so give her a big hand – ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure, with 'In My Head', it's the one, the only... Isabella Swan!”

WHAT!