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​Life has not always been good to Bella Swan. Born mixed race in the deep south, orphaned as a child, and made a widow at a young age, she uses her photography not only as a way to make money but as a way to grow and heal after serious trauma. Luckily she has wonderful friends by her side to help her, too. She’s not unhappy, but she’s barely scraping by. 

Everything changes though when she’s offered a job taking pictures of up and coming Australian actor, Edward Cullen, for a full week. 

Eddie seems almost picture perfect. Kind, handsome, intelligent, rich. But, we are always more than what we appear in a snapshot.

A Sexy Serial Soap opera

Rated M for Mature, intended for an adult audience. Reader Discretion is advised.





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5/20/2019

(IPFF) Episode Four: Twenty Questions and an Impression

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Episode Four: Twenty Questions and an Impression


When we got back to his house, I helped Edward bring everything inside. I finally took more pictures of him. I took a series of him carrying boxes of snack cakes and Pringles cans into his office. It was a surprisingly funny set of photos. Especially since I captured him dropping things. Twice. For some reason, he didn't keep them in their bags and tried to carry them under his arms. 

“Goddammit,” Edward muttered under his breath. He shouted it the second time.

“Mm, pringle shards,” I teased him as I helped him pick up the cans from the floor after I finished taking pictures of his amusing misfortune. 

“Whoops,” he laughed awkwardly. Edward gave me a large shit-eating grin.

He placed the boxes and cans onto the coffee table. Next, he brought in a couple of bottles of water for us to drink when we were tasting things. In the room to one side there was a table in front of a shelf of weird toys and swag he had gotten from video games and movies. It had two chairs behind it and a tripod with a camera set up in front of it. 

“So, I'll do the unboxing video first,” he explained as he thought about his work out loud. “Actually, I'll take pictures for the thumbnails first. Then I'll do the unboxing video. And then we can do the food ranking videos. Sound good?”

“Yup. Is it okay if I take pictures of you while you set up?”

“Go ahead.” He waved me off.

We took pictures, him of his video game stuff and food and me of him taking pictures. When he was done, he stood up straight with his camera and took a picture of me, catching me off guard. I was taking a picture of him as he did so. Edward lowered his camera and grinned in pleasure at my surprised reaction.  

“If you don't use a flash you can take pictures during the video if you want,” he told me as he made sure his video camera was ready to go. 

“Good to know,” I said quietly.

Eddie sat behind the table with his box. The camera was very close to the table so it could capture everything in detail. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. 

He took a deep breath. "Three, two, one... Hello, everyone and welcome back! I'm Eddie, your not so humble host!" He said in a bright and animated voiced. "So today I've got an extra special treat for you! I'm a very lucky boy, and the wonderful developers over at Blue Box have sent me the special limited edition of Death Calling, the game of the year edition, and they have given me the honor... NAY! The privilege of being the first to unveil it to the public in all of its morbid glory.  

"Not only do you get the game and all of it's DLC, but you get a Creator Science mug, just like the collectible from the game. Too bad it doesn't actually increase your energy in real life. Of course, we need something to put in those mugs! So, we've got ourselves this gorgeous bright red health tonic, cherry pomegranate flavored so it might actually be healthy for you but probably not. I'm not going to drink it because it's too beautiful to waste. It also comes with an enamel pin of the Frost gun, which is my favorite weapon in the game, hands down. Because nothing is more fun than freezing your enemies whole and shattering them into a million pieces like a savage. And then last but certainly not least, I am proud to reveal the very best part of this already amazing set. A Funko pop of my character. That's right! Plex, the very best worst robot is getting his very own figure! But this ain't no newb Plexie. No! He is rocking his very own fully upgraded tank armor.  And he is a sexy beast.” He showed off the little toy to the camera. “I can't tell how excited this makes me! It's my first Funko! But, hopefully not the last!” He wiggled his eyebrows somehow. I smiled to myself as I watched him work.

He placed the toy on his shelf right behind him, mugging for the camera. “Alright everyone, that is what I've got for you today. If you want to pre-order this awesome edition head over to my website, Eddie Cullen dot com and click on the link or you can go directly to Blue Box Games dot com. If you're not already, please like, subscribe, and remember to hit the bell so you can stay up to date with my ever growing ego. Buh-bye!”

I took his picture just as he said bye. He looked relieved as he could finally breathe again. His eyes met mine, and he seemed almost... exposed. 

“How was that?” He asked as if he was actually nervous.

I wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to hear, so I simply told him the truth, "seemed solid. I couldn't say to the visuals. I didn't see what the camera was filming, but I think you got it." 

“Yay, first take,” he mumbled dryly to himself as he put the mug and drink on the shelf behind him with other collectibles of the same style. Edward put the game on the shelf with the others. I took pictures as he did. He posed beside it when he noticed like he was on Wheel of Fortune. 

“Would you like to do sweet or salty first?” Edward asked as he mugged now for my camera. He made the duck face again. The quiet him was gone once more.“Your choice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Salty then sweet.”

"Sounds perfect." He lined up the Pringle cans on the front of the table "So, I'll start, and you can jump in whenever you feel comfortable. I'll start on one, like before. Just let me know if you need to stop for any reason." 

“Alright. Where shall I sit?” I asked as I put my camera down on the coffee table and picked up a bottle of water. 

“Either is fine.” 

He put down a pad and a couple of markers for us to write with. 

I sat to his right side. I cracked open the water and took a little sip so my throat wouldn't be dry. I was feeling a little nervous suddenly.

"Okay. Three, two, one... Hello everyone and welcome back! We've done Walker's. We've done Smith's. We've done Lay's. You've been asking for it so today we're ranking Pringles flavors. But, no, I'm not doing it alone! Today I'm joined by a super special guest. She has the unfortunate task of following me around and taking my picture for a full week. She's super talented, and we're wasting her precious time with our tomfoolery, so everyone give a warm welcome to the very lovely Ms. Bella Swan!" 

I waved to the camera and smiled brightly to match his. “Hi! I'm really excited to be here actually.”

“So, do you like chips? Or crisps as my parents would call them?” He chatted for the camera.

“I do. They're probably one of my favorite quick snack foods to buy because it's just impossible to get the same result from a homemade version,” I explained. 

“Do you have a favorite flavor?”

“Of Pringles or of any chip in general?”

Eddie thought for a moment, “mm, both.”

“Pringle's originals are simple and perfect. Of any chip, in general, I'd say either honey barbecue or fried green tomatoes. I have to admit I have to just not buy them because I'll eat them all at one time and they don’t come in little bags.”

He hammed up a super interested face with wide eyes. "Oh, my god! I've never tried either of those, and they sound delicious.”

I tried not to laugh. The way he was looking at me, I could tell that's what he wanted. "They're both Lay's," I replied evenly. 

“I'll have to look for those!” He said excitedly, “those are such interesting flavors! Not very common. They're both very southern American, too.”

“You can take the girl out of Texas...” I trailed off in a thick accent again. He chuckled. 

"So, what we have here is the top ten selling flavors of potato goodness, and we're going to taste each flavor and rank it on one thing alone. Flavor. We'll give it a number one to ten and then audience we will give you the definitive list of Pringles flavors. I know you've all been on the edge of your seat waiting for this,” he said sarcastically.

It's incredible what he could say with a straight face. I felt like I was playing pretend.  

“First, the original!” He struggled to open the safety seal and ripped the little tab off. “Dammit!” He snapped at the can. I laughed at his frustration, taking it from him so I could use my one long thumbnail on my left hand to pierce the wax paper. Popping it, I pulled it away and put it in the trash can beside us. “Show off.”

“If that's showing off you're in for a long day, sugar,” I warned him. He almost laughed but pursed his lips together and looked away so he could stay composed. He held my gaze for a second, his bright green eyes were beautiful.

“You're not wrong,” he muttered with those big fake wide eyes again as he pulled out a couple of chips for each of us to eat. He was such a ham. I wondered how much of our stupidity would actually make it into the video.

“They're in better shape than I expected,” I told him honestly, not waiting for him before popping one directly into my mouth. “Eddie kept tossing them around like a football for some reason,” I said to the camera. 

“Not on purpose!” He pretended to be offended for a hot second before moving on abruptly. “What do you rank this? Do we even need to talk about the flavor of this one?”

I put my hand on my chin. “No. Perfect potato-y flavor. Perfectly overly salted. Classic. Eleven out of ten would snack again.”

He raised an eyebrow somehow at me. I wasn't sure how he could do it because I couldn't. “Wow, you're already bucking the system and awarding a whole extra bonus point.”

"What can I say? I'm a rebel," I said as dryly and as bored as possible. Edward actually laughed then, a real genuine laugh. I snickered at his amusement, making me break and smile. I looked away so I could become serious again. 

Next was the barbecue flavor. Though I liked the barbecue-flavored things, I didn't like this one. I gave it a two out of ten. Eddie gave it a five.   

“It's not impressive nor is it as good as the original,” he agreed.

Next was sour cream and onion which I liked better, but I only gave it a five. Eddie didn't like that one, giving it a three. We both gave the pizza a five as well as the ranch and jalapeno. He really liked the salt and vinegar, giving them an eight while I gave them a four. We both gave the loaded potatoes and cheddar cheese ten out of ten. The Memphis barbecue was a three from me and a four from him.

“So, what you're telling me is after all that my extra point determines the winner and breaks a hard three-way tie?” I asked him as I read the yellow legal pad with our numbers that he had been keeping track of. 

“That's exactly how it worked out!” He laughed at the irony of it. “So, our top three is Originals, followed by the amazing loaded baked potato and cheddar and sour cream! Maybe skip the barbecue. What is your favorite flavor? Comment down below and let me know what foods you'd like me to rank in the future. Bella, do you have anything you want to plug?” He asked. I had to think for a moment.
“You can follow me on Facebook or Instagram at Swan Photography. You can also go to Swan Photography dot com to buy prints of some of my favorite pictures that I've taken.”

He clapped his big hands together. “And everyone, they're so awesome! Definitely check them out. The links will be down below. If you're not already, don't forget to click subscribe and the hit the bell so you can stay up to date on whatever ridiculous thing I call work next! Buh-bye!”

Edward relaxed beside me visibly. “You did so good!” He genuinely praised me as he began to clear the table of our mess with his hands, scrapping the crumbs into a pile.

“Really?” I questioned.

He smiled almost shyly, “yea! Especially for your first time. I really like your... how should I say this? Acerbic wit. I like the banter. Just relax and don't be afraid to say whatever is on your mind. If it doesn't work, I can always edit it out after.”

"In Texas," I told him a thick accent, "we'd call that being a smartass, and I got my ass whooped a lot for it.”

He laughed quietly as he wiped the crumbles into his hands. “You're not wrong. But, so am I. Two peas in a sarcastic pod. So, are you ready for the next video or do you need a break?” Edward asked pleasantly. 

“Can I get some milk to drink instead of water first?”

“Good idea,” he said as he stood. “I'll be right back.” 

He left before I could say anything else. After a few minutes, he returned with two perfectly cold and frothy cups of milk. 

Edward set up the table with the snack cakes. He wasn’t looking at me. “Would you like to do the intro this time?”

“How?” I asked. 

"However you like. You've seen how I do it. If It doesn't work, we can cut and start again. We're doing really well on time." He looked at his watch. "It's earlier than I thought." 

“Okay.”

He sat down beside me again and started the camera with the little remote in his pocket. “Three, two, one...” Edward counted off. 

“Hello everyone and welcome back!” I began, imitating him. “Today we're about to get mad diabetes because we're going to rank Little Debbie's snack cakes. This is Eddie Cullen,” I pointed to Edward with my own shit-eating grin. I could pretend to be on a morning talk show if he wanted me to.

“And that is my very special guest, Bella Swan,” he replied back smoothly like the conversation we were having was normal.

“And if you're seeing this video, please send insulin.”

Edward snickered, covering his mouth with his fist as he looked away from my very serious face. When he turned back, he tried to just smile again but just snorted. I turned to face him completely in my chair, staring him down as I took a tiny sip of my milk without saying a word. My face was as blank as possible. 

“You've not even had sugar yet,” I finally said as he continued his giggling fit. 

“I know,” he muttered as he caught his breath with a half giggle in his tone. “I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me.” He took a deep breath and swallowed. “Okay, so first we're going to start with the oatmeal cookie,” he cleared his throat and spoke at the camera again. “We're going to split this in half and...” he offered me both halves. I took the smaller one and broke that in half so that it was only a bite. 

It was just fine. It was just sweet, super soft fluff, to be honest. I was unimpressed. Edward thought it was too sweet. 

Next, we tried Nutty bars, then Cosmic Brownies, Zebra Cakes, and Swiss Cake Rolls. By the time we got the Honey Buns, I was laughing so hard I was having trouble keeping things in my mouth. I spat a little milk more than once and choked on it but luckily only coughed for a moment while Edward gave me a quick rub on the back. Also more than once we had to start over because he was laughing so hard. At one point he had to yell at me to stop looking at him because he was giggling too hard. 

We had so much sugar. 

“Alright, everyone! There you have it! Swiss Cake Rolls are king. Cosmic Brownies may be at the bottom of our list, but are they your personal favorites? Let me know down in the comments and let me know what you'd like to see ranked next!” He pointed over to me.

“So, don't forget to like, subscribe, and hit the notification bell so you can keep up to date with all the sweet, sweet content!”

“Buh-bye!” Edward said before turning off the camera. He laughed happily as he set the remote on the table and rubbed his forehead. “I've got a sugar headache.”

“I'm not surprised. You ate all of yours,” I pointed at the leftovers on my plate, still picking at some of them for little bites of chocolate or cream. I would poke them with my finger and lick it off. 

Edward looked at his watch again. “I can't believe how quickly we got done,” he told me as we still sat the table. “I think we have time for one more video... if you're willing.”

“Sure. What kind of video? I'm not sure I can do more food just yet.”

“Me either,” he agreed. “I was thinking since you're here... Would you like to do one of my ‘Twenty Questions and an Impression’ videos?”

“Oh,” I drew out. “I thought you only did that with your close friends.”

He was surprised by my words. I don't think he had expected me to have watched so many of his videos. There were only a few of those. Edward cleared his throat quietly. "Um, well. I mean, I've done it mostly with my friends, but it really is a game about getting to know new people while being able to practice whatever accent I may get. If you don't want to, you don't have to. I wouldn't want to make you do something you might be uncomfortable with." 

I thought about it for a minute. "I'm not the most exciting person to learn about, but I don't mind." 

He shot up from his chair. “Awesome! Perfect! Just give me a few moments.”

Edward got reset up very quickly and had me sit alone at the desk. This time he was sitting behind the camera with his phone waiting in his hands. There was a little mic pinned to his shirt so he could be heard clearly. In front of me there was a Halloween style cheap top hat filled with little pieces of folded paper. 

“Alright, three, two, one... Hello everyone and welcome back! It's time once again for everyone's favorite filler episode... Twenty Questions and an Impression, the show where a friend pulls a voice from a hat, and then I ask them twenty random questions in that voice. This week we have our latest victim, the lovely Ms. Bella Swan," he pointed at me, wanting me to speak.  

"Hi!" I smiled and waved to the camera. I reached into the hat and pulled out a sheet of paper when he told me to. It was handwritten and a single word. 'Southern.' "Nope," I muttered and put it back.  

“Wait!” Edward laughed, “which was that?”

I was embarrassed at myself for my answer. 

“Southern. Bad southern accents are like my pet peeve. Sorry.”

He didn't seem bothered by my answer, just curious. “What makes you think mine will be bad?”

I looked him dead in the face with wide serious eyes. I then cocked my head to the side slowly. Then a little more at a lower angle. Edward laughed and waved me on to pick another. 

“Scottish.” I showed the camera the new paper.

“Oh! Yer done given me an easy one,” he began in his outrageously loud fake Scottish accent. It was obnoxious.

“Alright, Mr. McDuck,” I teased him, putting the hat back on the shelf. “I'm ready when you are.”

“First question!” He started as he waited for the app on his phone to randomly pick a question. “Hae ye ever played a sport?”

“Yes. I did gymnastics as a kid and dance, too. And, I was a cheerleader.”

He nodded, eyes still on the screen. “Question two! Whit movie scarred ye as a wee bairn?”

“Scarred me? Like stuck with me, messed me up.  Ummmm....” I drew out. “Raiders of the Lost Ark. The snake part. I don't like snakes. That, or David Bowie's codpiece in Labyrinth. That ruined me forever.” I looked dead-eyed into the camera again like I was reliving the trauma. I blinked very slowly.

Edward pursed his lips so as not to laugh, trying to get another question to load by wildly tapping it with his thumb. His cheeks were pleasantly pink with amusement. “Three! Whit is ye dream car?” 

“A self-driving one. I haven't driven more than a few hours in like ten years,” I admitted. “Cars are not really in my wheelhouse.”

The next one loaded quicker. “ Question Four! Is a hot dug a sandwich?”

I laughed at this one. I didn't expect it. “Um, no. A hot dog is a sausage, not a sandwich, but I know what you mean. No. It is meat stuffed into bread. A sandwich usually includes two or more separate slices of leavened bread. And, it is possible to make a hot dog sandwich, suggesting that a hot dog is not already a sandwich.”

“ 'At was way moor thoughtful than it deserved,” he told me as he waited for the next question. “Question Fife! Whit is yer first fife jobs?”

“Oh, um,” I thought about it. “I'm not sure if I've had five jobs. Let's see. I started babysitting when I was like eleven like most kids do. Then I started working at my church when I was fourteen. I had to get my Mamaw to sign a special paper and talk to someone since I was so young. I worked in the baby room there until I graduated high school.”

“They lit ye wark in the wee bairns' room?” He asked still in character, surprised. “So young.”

"Well, I actually started volunteering in the kid's rooms when I was like ten to get out of sitting still during church. I started out helping with the toddlers but then I got a chance to work with the babies, and I loved it." 

He had a small smile on his face, “so, ye good with wee babes?”

“Yeah, I have mastered the newborn to about eighteen month age range, at least,” I told him. “I love babies. Anyway, after high school, I moved to New York. I worked in a family owned Italian place in the kitchen as a cook for about five years while I put myself through school. After that, I started my career in photography and helped my friend start up her non-profit. I worked in the office. And, I've been doing that pretty much ever since. So, I guess that's five?”

“Whit sort of non-profit is it?”

“We help those who might not be able to travel for whatever reason and help them to get exposed to other cultures and travel. We help kids who have never left the Bronx get to go to places like Germany or England. Australia. Or, adults who've been unable to get out of the house because of disabilities and take them to the beach or the garden. There is a whole host of things we do every week. Long trips, day trips, two-hour outings. Classes. It's a fantastic organization that I am so proud to be a part of. It's called Culture for All, at Culture for all dot com. Please, please, please donate so we can continue to open up the world for everyone if you can.” I put up prayer hands. I was willing to beg for Alice. She worked too hard. She was the only one I was willing to do it for.

“Link in the box down below!” He forgot halfway through that he needed an accent before picking it up again at the end. “Six! If animals could gab, which wood be th' rudest?”

“If animals could talk... hm...” I thought out loud, giggling a little. “Well, I think the rudest can already talk. I think it was Andrew Jackson's parrot that got kicked out of his funeral for cursing too much.”

“Seriously?!” Edward laughed genuinely.

“Yeah, I think so,” I smiled at his reaction. “Birds are kind of assholes anyway. They're just mad they’re not dinosaurs anymore.”

“Question seven,” he said in the hopes to move on, half with a laugh. “Are ye close wit yer mum and dad?”

This was a rather sore spot for me. I had actually had made this speech so many times to so many people. It amazed me how much it actually came up. "Uh... no. I don't know who my father is, actually. There is no name on my birth certificate. My mom died when I was five, so I didn't really get to ask. My maternal grandmother raised me until I was fifteen, but then she passed away." 

“I'm sorry,” he said in his quiet normal tone. “I can ask another question. Or, we can stop.”

“No, it's fine. I'm really removed from it all now.” I scratched behind my ear. “It happened so long ago. Anyway, I was really lucky because my best friends' mother became my guardian and I'm still very close to her today. Hi Mrs. Brandon! Love you,” I waved at the camera. “She's going to show this to every person she knows,” I explained to him. 

“Alright, somethin lighter now,” he continued on. He grimaced when he saw it but continued. “Question eight. Whit is th' sexiest name ye can tink of?”

I looked directly into the camera. “Bella, obviously.”

“Wrong. It's Edward,” he told me seriously, making me laugh quietly and roll my eyes. “Nine! Whit is yer eye colour?”

I opened my eyes wide for the camera. “I have one brown and one blue eye. I have full genetic heterochromia, meaning I have two different colored eyes, or rather the blue is lacking pigment. It doesn't affect my eyesight though.” I always knew that was the next question.

Edward leaned forward to look at my eyes, his head tilted slightly. I cocked my head to the side as well, keeping my eyes opened wide. “That's cool,” he mumbled under his breath. “Like David Bowie.”

"Bowie got his from a punch during a fight over a girl. His pupil was just always fully dilated, and he had naturally blue eyes," I replied back. 

He straightened his head up. Eddie forgot the accent again. “Gah, really? I'm learning so much today.”

“I am full of useless knowledge.” 

“Question...” He drew out, tapping on his phone for the next question. 

“Ten,” I answered when he couldn't think of the number. 

Eddie grinned at me, “right. Not completely useless. Ten! Wood ye rather fin true love or fife million dollars?”

That was an easy one. 

“True love. Money doesn't buy happiness, only security. Beside five million isn't what it use to be.”

He nodded his head thoughtfully as he waited for the next question to come up on his phone. “Eleven! Top fife favorite video games. Do ye play?”

I smiled. I liked this question a lot. “I do! I used to play a lot with my husband, less so now,” I started.

“You're married?” He said very quietly in his normal voice. 

I hadn't even realized I had mentioned my late husband. It just slipped out. I realized I hadn’t thought about him once in the past few days and felt instantly guilty for it. “No. I'm a widow, actually.”

Edward turned bright red in the face, and his eyes got wide."Jesus, I am so sorry." 

I laughed, but it wasn't a funny one. I rubbed my hand over my chest as I thought of what to say to him. "Really, you don't have to keep apologizing. Death... happens. I get it, though. What else can you say?”

“You're so young though.” He seemed impossibly sad for me. It was very sweet in an almost naive way. 

I shrugged and shook my head as I held one hand to my stomach. It was thinking about being nervous again. I had to fight the urge to chew on my nail as well. 

"Death can happen at any moment. Trust me, I know. My husband just dropped dead of an undiagnosed birth defect while getting breakfast one morning. He was healthy, active, ate right. He had a full check up the month before because we were trying to get pregnant, too. He was just forty. And he was dead before he hit the sidewalk. That was three almost four years ago, and it's still shocking," I explained my life story for some reason. I hated myself for it. I took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Anyway, my husband used to collect video games and video game systems. Half his office was just shelves and shelves of video games and the books that go with them. Even if they were terrible, for some reason," I shook my head as I thought about it. They were such a hassle to keep dusted. I always made him do it. 

“I'd probably say my favorite games are,” I continued, just trying to move on from our sad conversation. “Gosh, that's hard... Final Fantasy X. Kingdom Hearts, the first one. Any of the Mario Kart games. Maybe one of the Grand Theft Auto series or maybe the Mass Effect series. One and two were both great. But if we just go on the sheer number of hours played it would probably be World of Warcraft or Stardew Valley. I've played both for literal months. Don't Starve, too. Or, maybe old school Rollercoaster Tycoon.”

“I like those, too,” he said with the Scottish accent back in place once again.

“I'm a filthy casual though,” I pointed out. I knew he was not. 

“That tis th' dumbest tin,” he shook his head. “Oh, that sounded more Jamaican.”

“How many people are you going to offend with this accent, by the way?” I asked him curiously. 

He scoffed, “well... I'm doing a near spot-on impression of me grandpa, so... at least my entire family.”

I laughed, and he smiled sweetly. "Question twelve. Wood ye rather ne'er be angry again or envious again?" 

“I'm not really a jealous or possessive person. But, I am angry all the time,” I said a little sarcastically. “I don't know what I'd do with myself if I was never angry again though. Anger is a powerful tool. It forces change. But, I guess anger. I don't think either would be beneficial.”

“Anger leads to hate,” he said in a Yoda voice.

“Only if you don't do anything about it,” I replied.

“Wise, you are,” he did in the Yoda voice again. He cleared his throat and began again in Scottish. “Thirteen. Favorite book?”

That was an easier one. “A Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule.”

“Fourteen. Where war ye born?”

“Houston, Texas.

He tapped on his phone screen again. “Question fifteen. Whit any person wood ye like tae have dinner wit? Livin o ded.”

“My father,” I answered truthfully. That would always be my answer to that question.

“So, you really don't have any idea?” He asked in his regular voice, very quietly. 

“No. Not really. I only have the vaguest context clues. My appearance is the biggest. I'm guessing he was probably Mexican or maybe Afro-Latino. My hair is pretty curly and thick, but I’m pretty light. I don't know though. My white mom worked at a Tex-Mex restaurant when she got pregnant, I think. And, I think if he had been white, or passing at least, my mom’s parents would have forced a shotgun wedding but I think their racism was stronger than their religion,” I explained to him. It's something I had explained many times to many people as well. Friends, curious strangers, expensive therapists… “My grandmother really improved after my grandfather and mom died though. I don't know if she knew who it was either or if I was just too young for her to tell me before she died. My grandmother didn't talk about any of it though, to be honest. She barely spoke about my mom at all.”

“That's a lot for a kid to handle,” he told me softly.

“I think it would be a lot for anyone at any age,” I said to him. “It sucks. But we can move on though if you like.”

“Right, sorry,” Edward cleared his throat. “Question sixteen. Oh, no. I don't think I can ask this one.” He turned very red in the face again. He dropped the accent again as well. So much for practicing.

“What is it?” I asked, very curious. Nothing had even slowed him down much with the others.

He said it in a hushed tone, covering the mic with his hand. “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

I laughed loudly, “I've never dyed my hair before. So, take from that what you will.”

“Oh god,” he kind of half laughed as he rubbed his eyes. Edward was actually visibly sweating. “Okay. Okay, um. Moving on. Seventeen. Whit is yer most visited website?”

“The one I put all the photos I take for just me. I spend a lot of time editing and arranging them in groups. I find it really soothing. It’s my meditation.”

“So, ye hav' a personal collection?” He questioned me.

“A massive one, yea. Just because I find something interesting doesn't mean it will sell as a print or poster,” I told him honestly. “I'm always surprised at what sells. All my friends and family can see them though. They're not private or anything.”

“I want to see them,” he said normally. “If that's okay. I really like what you're selling.”

“I can send you the link later,” I assured him with a smile. “And, If you see anything you really like I can put it in the shop.”

“Yas, thenks. Question eighteen. Whit is yae guilty pleasure?” His accent returned.

"Um... Guilty pleasures usually refer to food, and I actually have a really hard time keeping on weight so I kind of just eat everything and as much as I want. And I don't feel guilty about anything I do that gives me pleasure, to be honest." I laughed a little. "I do try to not keep the worst stuff out of the house because I will eat it all, but when I do get it, I never feel bad. Life is too short. Don't deny yourself pleasure." 

Edward cleared his throat., “question nineteen. Whit is yer favorite drink?”

I think he could have guessed this answer. “Coffee.”

He smiled a little. “Last question. Book o' telly?”

“Audiobook.” 

He voice went back to his normal enthusiastic video one. "Fantastic! And, there we have it! If you enjoyed this interview and would like to see the extended version, you can visit my page, Eddie Cullen dot com and for just a five dollar donation you can unlock unlimited access to tons of bonus content for a whole month! And best of all is that one hundred percent of donations are given to the charity of the month! So, please like, subscribe, and don't forget to hit the notifications button! Buh-bye!" He paused for a moment. "Bella, why don't you do a blurb about your website? I can add it in as an end card to anything you're in so you just don't have to keep repeating it." 

"Hi, my name is Bella Swan, and I am a freelance photographer from New York City. If you're interested in purchasing a print, postcard, mug, canvas, or something else equally cool, you can visit my website Swan Photography dot com. You can also follow me on Facebook and Instagram at the same name. Thanks! Bye!" 

Edward removed his mic. 

“My goodness. What a video that's going to be. Don't worry, I'll not put anything too personal. I promise.”

“It's fine. I don't mind. I wouldn't have told you if I was uncomfortable with it.” I stood and went to retrieve my camera. I needed to put something in my hands. 

“Thank you for being so open,” he said, genuine and kind. His face was warm and soft, his bright green eyes sparkling as he looked at me from over his video camera. I felt a little exposed myself and did the only thing I knew to do.

I took his picture. 

“You're welcome.” 


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