Chapter 8. “Free Falling”

I believe it was Joan Baez who said, "You don't get to choose how you're
going to die, or when, you can only decide how you're going to live." I think it's
high time I started doing just that.
 
The real Isabella Swan POV


"That was a dick move, and you KNOW it, James!" I screamed at him as he
pushed me into the limo that was waiting for us outside.
He looked around to make sure no one was listening to us, or
taking pictures of us.
News flash! James lost his temper! Oh no!
I was so mad that I was shaking at how he'd acted, punching Edward like that.
I hadn't been that mad in…who knows how long.
Who cares anyway? He. Punched. Edward!
I didn't even know if he was okay, Edward that is…we'd left so abruptly
afterwards.
I didn't even get to tell him how wonderful I thought he'd done…or
how incredible that kiss was…
James slammed the door shut and hurried around to the other side to slide in
next to me, breaking me away from my thoughts.
"My house," he said to the driver as he sat down next to me.
I scooted away from him. "No, my apartment, please," I corrected him.
"Isabella," James began, laughing and I could feel a lecture coming on, but I
was far too angry to even listen to his stupid mouth speak to me.
"I don't want to hear it, I don't want to even look at you right now…you had no
right to…"
"He had it coming, Isabella…the way he's been looking at you all week, and
that kiss he pulled at line rehearsals…the kiss in THERE? come on…"
"So you just…wait…that kiss at rehearsals…you weren't even looking at
us…you were…"
"I see, everything, Isabella…and the monkey had this night coming."
That didn't sound right, it was like…
"You didn't ask me out tonight because you wanted to make up for being an
ass this week, you asked me out to come here, and make Edward look like
a…"
I couldn't find the word.
"Idiot?"
Ahhhhrgh!
"Stop the car!" I shouted, completely unable to take his…smuggy, stupid,
smug! FACE! Anymore.
The driver did as I instructed, he wasn't stupid.
"Isa…"
"It's Bella…James…BEL. LA."
I grabbed my hand bag and started to get out of the limo when the driver
came to a complete stop and James grabbed my arm.
"Let go of me, James."
"Don't get out of this limo, ISABella…you won't be getting back in."
I jerked away from him and started walking in the opposite direction of the
limo so there would be no misunderstanding that maybe I wanted him to
follow me.
The limo sat there for perhaps a minute or so and then pulled off.
"Asshole," I said to myself, reassuring my psyche that I'd done the right thing.
I didn't need him.
Or his stupid limo.
As soon as I'd said it, it started raining and I reached for my back pack but
then realized, I didn't HAVE my back pack, because I'd dressed up tonight for
the show and didn't think I'd need it.
"Perfect," I said to no one.
And of course there were no taxis anywhere to be seen.
I sighed and then began walking toward my street, which was about West of
where I was and decided maybe the rain was what I needed, maybe I needed
to wash away the stupidity that had filled my head over the past couple of
years.
It felt good.
And cold.
When I got home, I was drenched and shivering…and I really didn't give a
goddamn.
"Good evening, Miss Swan, I wasn't expecting you tonight," Felix said to me
as he held the door open to my building.
He was a tall, scary looking man to anyone who didn't know him, but he was a
gentle giant.
He was always on top of the stalkers, the paparazzi, the lurkers…and never
once complained about the pain it was to be a door man for such a high
trafficking, probably just as high maintenance actress like me.
"Hi, Felix, just…change in plans is all," I said smiling.
"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Should I call for a
massage?"
I laughed. "No thank you, Felix, I'll be fine."
I rode the elevator up to my penthouse thinking about how I'd been so neck
deep in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood mentality regardless of how far
away from there I lived for so long that I didn't even recognize who I was
anymore.
My phone rang then and without even looking, I knew who it was.
I ignored it, but a few minutes later, it rang again.
Don't answer it.
It rang again.
He'll just suck you back in again.
Ring.
"Hello," I said into the damn thing, cursing myself.
"I'm sorry," he said.
I huffed out.
"I really am, I just…get a little jealous over you, Isa…I mean, Bella."
He's being way too nice…and he called me Bella…something's up.
"I think I'm done talking for tonight, James," I advised him.
"Please, I…"
I should have hung up on him…should have crushed my phone and bought a
new one, with a new number he didn't know.
Should have, but I didn't.
Instead, I listened to what the jerk had to say, and decided in the end that, in
part anyway, I was to blame for Edward getting punched just as much as
James was.
I shouldn't have let him kiss me like that.
Beautiful, sensuous, loving as it was.
As much as it could be in an Ogre costume anyway…I still shouldn't have let it
happen.
I told James I wouldn't make any rash decisions until I'd had a chance to cool
down and think things through.
When I got off of the phone with him that night, I crawled under the covers of
my bed and didn't actually think about anything.
Instead, I fell asleep to Greta Garbo and Melvyn Douglas in "Two Faced
Woman" and wished so badly that I'd had a twin, one that could run away with
Edward and live happily ever after in his Ogre swamp, eating corn dogs and
steak on a stick for the rest of our lives.
I spent Sunday in bed not thinking about anything as well. I was wrapped in
my bath robe with my fuzzy slippers on my feet, dangling off of the end of the
bed as I watched movies all day.
The only things I got up for were to make toast at eight AM and then soup
around four.
The phone rang several times but I didn't answer it.
One of the messages that were left was my publicist, telling me she'd spoken
with James and that we needed to talk.
Lovely.
I thought about calling my dad, but it had been so long since I'd spoken with
him and I really didn't want him to feel like I only called when something was
wrong, so I decided against it.
I fell asleep with the television on again.
This time it was Julia Roberts and Richard Gere in "Pretty Woman".
Sometimes I felt like her.
Like a purchased woman.
I didn't like it.
….
I woke up late Monday morning.
That never happens.
"Your cab is waiting, Miss Swan!" Felix called after me and I thanked him for
his never ending coordination with regards to my life, making a mental note to
buy him something extra special for Christmas this year.
When I arrived at the set, the bagel tray was still full, but Mike was whining
about how he'd gotten Onion with Garlic instead of just onion and I just…lost
it.
For the love of…
"Mike, give it a goddamn rest will you? It's a fucking bagel…here…"
I picked up an assiago cheese flavored one and extended it out to him. "Try it,
it'll be good for you to expand you bagel horizons."
People had heard me raise my voice to him and a small crowd was starting to
gather.
"Ewe, Isabella, what is wrong with you today?"
"Oh, you don't like assiago?" I asked him, my voice raising just an octave or
two. "How about sesame seed?" I picked that one up and tossed it across the
table. It landed right in front of him and more people stopped to watch the
show but I paid them no mind.
"Cut it out," he said, scowling at me.
"Why do we even have this many goddamn bagels anyway?" I asked
hysterically. "I mean, there's only SO MANY bagels one can eat, right?" I
looked around at the faces that were now staring at me in worry. "Am I right?"
They didn't answer me.
"Isabella," Mike said. He sounded JUST LIKE James when he did it, and that's
when I lost it.
I threw another bagel at him. "Shut." And another. "UP!"
He held his hands up as shields and that just made me angrier with him.
"Fight BACK you…ASS!" I kept throwing them at him and he kept throwing his
hands up to keep the thick pieces of breadish material from pelting him in the
face until the tray was empty and then someone finally caught my wrists and
stopped me from picking up the tray and winging it at the jerk and I snapped
my head around to see who would reap my anger next when deep green eyes
met mine and I just…stopped.
He looked at me for a moment with this look on his face that
was…amusement maybe. He was probably wondering if I had just completely
lost my mind.
I thought I was going to scream…or cry…one of those…until Edward said,
"Bella, if you don't like bagels, just say so."
We both stared at each other for a minute.
I heard a few soft, quiet giggles coming from around us and Edward was even
trying his darndest not to laugh.
The sides of his mouth twitched and I thought briefly about how those lips had
felt against mine Saturday night.
When I looked back into his eyes and saw the raw determination to not laugh
at me, I couldn't help but smile.
Then we both burst out into laughter together.
"Oh my god," I said under my breath as everyone else joined in.
"We'll have Tanya get you some nice French Toast tomorrow, huh?" he
chuckled and I laughed harder. "Pancakes? Maybe with those cute little
strawberry eyeballs and whipped cream?"
Emmett, the camera man yelled out, "Hell yeah! Down with Bagels!" pumping
his fist into the air and then the whole crowd started cheering with him…
"DOWN…WITH…BAGELS! DOWN…WITH…BAGELS!" and Edward and I
were hysterical with laughter.
Mike shook his head in disgust and left down the hallway to his dressing room
and Edward picked one of the casualties up off of the table in front of us and
took a huge bite.
"Mmmm, difguffting."
I laughed harder but then stopped and said to him, "Thank you."
"Are you kidding?" he asked me, then dipped his head toward me to speak
into my ear.
I felt goosebumps.
"You should get angry more often."
I swallowed hard at the feel of his breath again my neck and when he pulled
away and looked at me with that smile of his, I was sure he'd seen the blush in
my face.
After that, he tipped the bagel to me, barely bopping me on the tip of my
nose…then he just, walked away.
My heart skipped as the crew and actors filed out into their perspective places
they needed to be and I barely caught a glance of Carlisle, up in his office,
watching the debauchery from behind his window.
He was turning to go back to his desk.
He was also smiling.
A little while later, I don't know when, it was after our lunch break, some of us
were on the sound stage, going over lines and Edward was sitting off to the
side, making scribbles on his script, frantically.
It was like he couldn't write fast enough.
I was fascinated watching him, he was so focused and every once in a while
he'd laugh at something he'd written.
I wanted to just…go over there and snatch it out of his hands to see what he
was writing for us.
James walked in then, he was on his cell phone, laughing at something.
I don't remember the last time I'd seen a smile like that on his face.
I studied the way he walked as he spoke softly into the phone and I must have
been making an ass of myself the way I was blatantly staring him because
something hit me in the forehead, waking me up from my daze.
I watched the piece of paper fall to the floor and then picked it up, unfolding it.
It was note.
I looked around and saw Edward, smiling at me, then he dipped his head
down again to go back to his writing.
The note read, "Your smile is sorely missed Bella, don't make me beg."
I smiled indeed when I read that and looked back up to Edward, who was
watching me again. He smiled wider and then, again, went back to his writing.
James broke my trance when he yelled, "What the hell is the deal with the
bagels all over the place out in the front room?"
Everyone began laughing about the scene from earlier.
But not me, I was busy watching Edward write.
And…watching…James. Walk up to Edward and talk to him about something.
After he left, Edward sat there for a moment, glanced my way only quickly
before he got up and followed James out.
Oh boy.
There's was no way any good could come of that.
Right?