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Shes putting you back together, Edward. We can all see it happening right in front of us. Shes like the stitches closing up your wounds.”-Esme Bella isn't the first girl to fall head-over-heels for Edward, nor is she the first to believe that Edward loves her too. Dillon Saunders once believed that she and Edward would be together forever, but he broke her heart. Now all she has to get her through is the theater and a series of self destructive relationships. Both she and Edward need recovery, and that is exactly what they find, in the places that they least expected it. stitches banner


4. Chapter 4: Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be

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Chapter 4: Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be

Now to scape the serpents tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

So, goodnight, unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.”

The lights went down and applause filled the tiny theater. I closed my eyes and soaked in the sound for a few seconds. It gave me satisfaction that compared with nothing else; it fulfilled me in a way that nothing else in my life did. For a few hours, I had abandoned myself for this part. I had left myself and my shitty life behind and had a little bit of fun. It was rejuvenating to say that least.

I realized that the lights were about to come up for the curtain call so I shook myself from my place and all but ran backstage.


I kissed a girl, and I liked it;

The taste of her cherry chap-stick.

I kissed a girl, just to try it;

I hope my boyfriend don't mind it.

Music pumped through the giant speakers, shaking the entire loft. About three dozen theater majors from NYU, and a fair few hangers-on, stood around with those classic red plastic cups. We were supposed to be celebrating, however I couldn't help but feel a horrible emptiness creeping through my bones. Plays were the only thing that gave me the slightest bit of happiness, so every time I completed one, I was left without any direction. There was nothing to distract me from... distractions are good; I like distractions.

A muscular arm wrapped around my waist. I could feel warm breath in my ear as he whispered a few meaningless nothings, but I barely acknowledged him. He trailed kisses up and down my neck, and still I didn't turn. Finally, he grabbed my arm and forced me to face him. His breath reeked of beer and tequila, and the rest of his body smelled even worse.

“I said, 'Lets go home',” he said. As he leaned in to kiss me, I turned my face at the last minute so his lips met my cheek instead. The arm that was not snaked around my waist came up to my face. He grabbed my chin and turned my face to his. His lips crushed into mine roughly, but I didn't bother to resist. I was used to his rough advances. I accepted them because he could give me what I wanted: money. He was a popular DJ in New York's club circuit. However, being around clubs and bars as much as he was meant that he had developed a certain fondness for alcohol.

He still gripped me tightly around the waist, but now his other hand explored various other parts of my anatomy. Again, I didn't bother to actively refuse him, but my lips began acting with a mind of their own and simply stopped moving. Noticing my lack of enthusiasm, he pulled away from me, though he still held my wrist in an iron vice. Terrible fire burned through his brown eyes. I knew I had to step carefully now or he would lose it right here. I didn't care what he did to me so long as no one knew.

Someone cut the music and I was saved. He released me and looked around to make sure that nobody was watching us. Everyone around us had focused their attention towards the front of the room. “Friends, Romans, Countrymen!” Jared Bates stood on top of one of the speakers, projecting his voice over the crowd so that even I could hear him from all the way in the back. A few people laughed, but most were too drunk to notice his attempt at humor. “No, really,” he began again, “I want to thank you all for being so wonderful this past week. It means a lot to me to work with such a passionate, talented group of people. You have blown me away with your dedication. Thank you so much,” he said as he stepped, or rather, was pulled down from his perch by his fiancée, Michael. She quickly took his place at the “podium”.

“What my fiancée is trying to say is... eat, drink and be merry!”She garnered a few more laughs than Jared, but only a few. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, our entertainment for the evening. I am proud to call her my best friend, but she's also one of NYU's most outstanding performers. Lets give it up for Dillon Saunders. " People began clapping, and everyone within a 5-foot radius of me turned to look at me. I groaned, but didn't protest like I normally would in such a situation.

"Go home. I'll meet you there after I escape from this," I whispered in his ear after kissing his cheek. He seemed to buy my excuse because he turned to leave, almost falling down in the process. The people assembled separated to let me through. I slowly made my way to the front, not knowing what I could expect when I got there. Obviously Michael had something planned for me, and I was getting a little nervous. I had long ago changed out of the garish costume and makeup that I had worn as Puck. I had put on simple jeans and a brown t-shirt, but now I suddenly felt significantly under dressed under the eyes of so many people.

As I neared the huge speakers at the front of the room, Michael grabbed my arm and practically dragged me closer to my impending doom. "Look, I know you hate it when I ask you to sing, but at least we got rid of the creep," she said while she pushed me on top of the speaker she had inhabited moments earlier. A few people cheered when as I straightened up and waved. Again, most were too hammered to notice anything that was going on around them.

I would have felt incredibly angry with Michael had I not known that she had only called me up front to save me from the even more embarrassing situation I could have found myself in if she had not tried so hard to humiliate me. She knew exactly how I felt about singing, especially in front of a big audience. I hated my voice, but when I was a Junior in high school, he had made me audition for some ridiculous band that was looking for a new lead singer. We didn't last very long, but already I gained some notoriety in my area. When Michael discovered it, she made sure that everyone on campus found out about my secret talent.

The DJ began playing a song I quickly recognized as one of my own. I groaned. Michael handed me a microphone and tried to give me an encouraging smile. Instead of returning it, I gave her the finger. I let the music pulse through me, preparing myself for the onslaught of feeling that it brought. My eyes closed tightly in an unconscious effort to block out the people.

No sir
Well I don't want to be the blame, not anymore
It's your turn so take a seat
We're settling the final score

And why do we like to hurt so much?

I can't decide
You have made it harder just to go on
And why, all the possibilities
Well I was wrong

That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of it's beating
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, woah

I wonder
How am I supposed to feel when you're not here?
Cause I burned every bridge I ever built
When you were here

I still try
Holding onto silly things I never learned
Oh why, all the possibilites
I'm sure you've heard

That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of it's beating
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, woah

Hey make your way to me, to me
And I'll always be just so inviting
If I ever start to think straight
This heart will start a riot in me
Let's start, start hey!

Why do we like to hurt so much?
Oh why do we like to hurt so much?

That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah

That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
That's what you get when you let your heart win, woah
Now I can't trust myself with anything but this
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, woah

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a pair of topaz eyes staring back at me. “Edward,” I thought. For a second, the gash in my chest felt like it was ripping open at the seams. I blinked and the eyes disappeared. I think I looked like I was about to faint, because Michael and Jared pulled me down from the speakers and made me sit down on the floor.

I put my head between my knees and tried to breath. For just a second, my mind had fooled me and I thought that maybe he was really here. I was almost sure of what I saw. Of course, that was impossible, because at the end of the day, I knew exactly how he felt about me. In some ways it would have been better if he had just told me, instead of lying, instead of saying he wanted me and then never looking back. A few tears hit my arms; I hadn't even noticed that I was crying.

It took me several minutes to be able to control myself. When I finally looked up, my eyes were completely dry. Michael and Jared stood over me, both with somewhat terrified expressions on their faces. I managed to pull myself to my feet. I pretended to be sick, which wasn't too hard considering that my heart had stopped beating for a few minutes after I saw those damn eyes. I told them that I wasn't feeling well and that I should probably go home. They both agreed, with Michael volunteering to help me out.

Michael helped me walk through the crowd of people into her bedroom. I avoided her eyes as best as I could, but it was almost impossible to do. Her accusing gaze burned into me. It was all I could do not to turn and run away from her. Before I got the chance, she sighed and pulled me into a hug.

“I'm so sorry. I had no idea that singing that song would be so hard for you. I mean, I know its about that Edward guy, but I've never seen you act like this before.” I gave an involuntary shudder as she said his name, and it didn't go unnoticed. “Whats going on?” she pulled away to look me in the face as she said it. “You have sung that song a million times. There's something different this time.”

“Nothing is going on,” I tried to assure her.

“I've never even see you cry before. Never. And you've been through some pretty fucked-up stuff. But tonight, after one song, you're suddenly falling to pieces. So, yes, Dillon. Something is going on.” Again, I tried to avoid her eyes, but it was impossible for me to do. “I can understand if you don't want to tell me; you don't tell me a lot of stuff. But I can see that you're hurting right now, and keeping that hurt inside is only going to hurt you. You know that I would do anything for you. Please just let me help you.”

“I don't need help, Michael. Its nothing really; I was just being stupid. Don't worry about it,” I told her, knowing even as I did that she would never listen to my command. “I'm just tired. I need to go home.” She shook her head.

“There's no way I'm letting you go back to that, Dillon. You can stay here.”

“This place isn't going to clear out for a few more hours, and there's no way I'm gonna hijack your bed. Its better if I just go home.” She tried to stare me down, but I, finally, was able to resist. “It will be worse if I never show up.” She nodded, but obviously wasn't satisfied.

“I don't understand why you do this to yourself. All I can figure is that you enjoy getting screwed and then left in the gutter when they get bored.” Again with the staring, I thought. I knew that she was trying to read me. She had the incredible talent of being able to look at someone's face and know what they were thinking. Fortunately, my wonderful powers of persuasion canceled out her mind reading. I almost had to laugh at myself; as if people could really do those things.

I pulled myself roughly from her arms. “I have to go,” I said as I turned my back to her. Thankfully, she didn't attempt to stop me. My jacket and purse lay on the desk where I had left them earlier, and I grabbed them on my way past. I didn't have to wade through too many people on my way to the door. As I pulled it open, someone caught my eye.

He was leaning against the doorway to the tiny kitchen. He looked like a god, his muscular arms and chiseled chest visible through the black shirt that fit him like a second skin. His hair was shaved close to his head, but I could see that it was light brown in color. He smiled at me and I felt my cheeks get hot. Was I actually, God forbid it, blushing? I looked up and met his eyes.

They were hard, cold, and the color of topaz.


It was going to be a very long night.