3SUMMARY
Young Edward Masen never did go to fight in the Great War. After narrowly recovering from the great influenza of 1918, he enrolled at Northwestern University to pursue a career in law, to appease his family's desries. His real passion lies within his music, but he does not allow the world to witness that side of him. Despite being doggedly pursued by the lovely Rosalie Hale, it is the illustrious Isabella Swan that captures his attention.
Disclaimer
I own nothing. Except for maybe the plot. Bella and Edward, they're too perfect to have been spawned from my imagination.
I've been working on this for quite a while. Adding chapters and revisiting the earlier ones to make it just right. Perfect. I get a bit OCD over minute details, but I think I've written enough of this story that I won't revisit the first chapter to change it again. What I have now is possibly like the tenth draft of chapter one. Also, there was meant to be a prologue, but I decided against it. It might get chabged to the epilogue or it might not get used at all. I'm gonna see where I end with this story, if I ever get that far. I can't do outlines because they're just too restricting, but I swear I'll try my hardest to finish this story. So without further ado, Enjoy!
—Chapter 1— Encounter: Evanston, Illinois, October 10, 1919 – Bella's POV
I don't know how long I stood there, surrounded on all sides by beautiful, pulsing music, almost ethereal and transcendental in its being. I was certainly taken aback, wondering how any boy of my age could have such a mastery of the magnificent piano. With a crashing crescendo, the music came to an end, and the boys fists slammed against the keys, his frustration very much apparent. I'd always thought the piano in the student's union was there strictly for decorative purposes; I couldn't fathom any one ever wanting to play it.
He sat there for a moment too long before standing up. Possibly contemplating how his masterpiece had ended so abruptly, he turned in a swift, deliberate movement, and for the first time he noticed I was there. Immediately, I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, for I had been observing for much longer than is appropriate, but the music had transfixed me and I had not had the willpower to turn away. His music had been too beautiful to ignore its gracious calls.
I noticed immediately his piercing green eyes. Once more, the blood rushed to my cheeks as I took in the features of the rest of his face.
"You have an exquisite mastery of the piano. You play so well, and I'm sorry if I've intruded on your practice. But I was quite awed," I let my hair fall over my face, curtaining my reddening cheeks. Clearing my throat, I added, "You may continue as you were," I made to leave but noticed that this whole time that those vivid green eyes had stayed trained on my face, and I averted my gaze downwards, further hiding myself from this boy, who possessed a magical affinity with the piano and was absolutely breath-taking.
"Don't be ridiculous. You don't have to leave at my expense. I've been trying to perfect the ending to that piece for ages, but I always somehow manage to slaughter it." He took a step forward, smoothing out his trousers in a fluid motion.
"Besides," he smiled at me, "this is a public space, available to anyone who might stop by. I just assumed it was late enough I might be alone. I suppose I was wrong." Picking up his coat from the foot of the piano, he gently made his way, while I stood in the way still, much like a fool.
As he was heading out the door, our shoulders brushed, and in that instant, I felt an electric surge pass between us, reddening my face even further, I imagine. I fell into step behind him and my feet betrayed me. I stumbled and fell into him.
"Why, excuse me miss and my clumsiness." A puffy cloud escaped from his lips as he took careful lingering steps outside. Despite the fault being my own, I shook my head in acknowledgement, incapable of speech.
Outside, a sheen coat of white littered the sidewalk. This discovery led me to question just how long I had been listening to his music. I surely must have truly been mesmerized to have lost all track of time, enough so that snow had fallen and dispersed across the city.
"And once again excuse me for eavesdropping on you." With his face only a few feet away, as he was retreating and taking careful steps backward, I recognized him. "Do you by any chance have a class with me? With Professor Cullen, for biological sciences, perhaps?"
Smiling sadly, he shook his head. "No, but I visit him often. He's a good friend of my father's and a good mentor. He's always willing to help me out when things get too difficult." Turning his head away and gently shrugging his shoulders, he added, "You could also say I owe my life to him." He spoke so softly, however, that I'm not sure if I was meant to catch the end of that sentence.
This beautiful boy was half obscured by the shadows and he was getting further and further from me with each shuffling step he took. He moved slowly, cautiously as if to not slip one a patch of ice. With one final step, he turned his back on me and quickened his pace, pulling a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lifting it to his mouth, his shoulders stooped low. The still night air chilled me deeply and I too began my hasty retreat towards my living quarters, having suffered a greatly embarrassing ordeal and being caught for my crime.
Making my way through the campus, on this brisk fall night, my thoughts stayed on that boy, and how he was possibly the most exquisite being I had ever seen. There was a sadness to his face that I wished to undo. To be able to take away the worried creases of his face and replace them with happiness – a reason for living – I'm sure this boy had not known for quite some time.
When I entered my room, my roommate was sprawled across her bed, a book in her hands, a lamp casting a dull glow, with a cigarette in her fingers and lacey tendrils of smoke stretching their fingers in the air.
I was humming to myself, a cheerful tune I had picked up from quite some time ago. "You're in quite some spirits tonight," Alice murmured underneath her breath, promptly resuming to the novel she was reading and heeding me no more attention.
– E –
As far as monotonous days go, this morning was no exception. I went through the motions of the day – speaking up in class when the professors opened the floor, turning in assignments, taking meticulous notes – for the sake of keeping the semblance of normalcy in my day, but the simple fact is I could not keep the young man from the night before out of my mind. Thoughts of him taunted my mind. I needed to keep distracted. How foolish of me to not have even asked for his name.
His dazzling green eyes, his almost bronze-colored hair, and the most radiant smile ever – his image had not vacated my musings. But most of all, in the background, I would swear on my life that I could hear the most wonderful piano music playing. Such a notion would be ridiculous of course, for surely no one would be playing music during literature class or arithmetic or biology.
Between such vivid imaginings, I was certain to go mad. How would I get through my day without seeing him again?
As I approached my final class for the day, biology, my heartbeat faltered just slightly, hoping for a glimpse of the magnificent stranger. Arriving ten minutes early, I searched the immediate halls leading to the classroom and sat in my seat patiently in the lecture hall, but he never showed. After the class cleared and Professor Cullen had left, I waited for him to appear, perhaps to visit the man as he sometimes did. At last, resigning myself, I vacated the lecture hall and braced myself for the trek across campus when I saw him.
Ahead, his tall, slender figure retreated, his head stooped low, as if in abject disappointment. I don't comprehend which force compelled me to run, to yell 'Stop' loudly enough to stop everyone within the thirty foot space separating us until I caught up to him. When he caught sight of me, his face brightened and he stopped, allowing for me to slow my pace and catch up to him in a more dignified manner.
Brushing a hand through his hair, he looked down at me, meeting my eyes with his. "This is going to seem silly, but I realize I never asked for your name last night," holding out his hand, he introduced himself," Edward Masen."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Masen. I go by Isabella Swan." I accepted his outstretched hand and perhaps held it for a second too long because abruptly he took it away, stifling a low cough. Whatever occurred, I felt an electric rush pulsing through my veins and my cheeks crimsoning.
…Little did I know that that chance meeting one night earlier would be the event that changed my life as we stepped forward into the fall air.
– E –
Thank you so much for having read this! I have the second chapter complete, but its still a work in progress, editing-wise. So, if you kindly review I might be motivated to make sure I have a finished product sooner. Writing stories is hard for me, so any constructive criticism will be most highly appreciated. So please, please, please press that little purple button and review!