I've had this idea bouncing around in my head so here we are. And somebody was bound to make fic out of this situation so I thought why not me? Art imitates life, right? No time like the present. I feel for Rob.

#TeamPattinson

I own nothing, but manipulate everything. Thanx to S. Meyer for the playthings.

How do you hide from the world when everyone knows your face? A tale of being broken and being put back together again.

ExB AH Rated M.

Tilted Halo

Chapter 1: Escape

Epov

I'm thirty thousand feet in the air but can't escape the images in my head. I feel like a stranger in my own body. Numbness cloaks around me like a shroud, but that's better than the piercing pain from yesterday. I was on top of the world and then it all came crashing down. The one person who I thought would never hurt me cut me to the quick and left me bleeding. I'm Edward Cullen, heart throb actor. This isn't the life I signed up for. This can't be happening to me. She wouldn't, couldn't break me like this. Not after everything we overcame to be together. We are Hollywood's fairy tale couple. Or should I say were? I can't even think her name. She has become Her.

I'm pressed against the window, my baseball cap pulled low over my blood shot eyes but anonymity still escapes me. The other passengers openly gape at me. I fight the urge to make a scene by yelling at the top of my lungs. Screaming "She broke my fucking heart" would just garner more attention. I bought the seat adjoining mine for a reason. I'm not fit for public consumption, but they refuse to respect that. I guess that's the price you pay to be in the spotlight, but what about human compassion? Is that too damn much to ask for? I suppose so. The rattling drink cart shakes me from my reverie. The flight attendant looks at me in pity. She's obviously read the dirty details of her infidelity. It's been all over the internet. I don't know how anyone could not demons inside me want fight to rage, to lash out at something, someone, anything, really. The lady hands me a double shot of whiskey. I accept it with gratitude as she simply pats my shoulder and continues down the aisle. Knocking it back, I taste the smooth burn of Jameson. Maybe there's hope for people after all.

I close my eyes, but Her face haunts me, tears running down and she's still so damn beautiful. It makes me wonder if she was crying in remorse or because the paparazzi burst her bubble. She's like a deadly snake, gorgeous and lulling you into a false sense of security before she strikes and infects you with her poison. You don't know you've been bitten until it's too damn late. I jumped from my seat and rushed to the solace of the teeny aircraft bathroom,

where the mirror confronts me in silent accusation. Three days of stubble covering a square jaw line and haunted, empty eyes reflect back. That can't be me. I chuckle bitterly. Of course it's me. The PA announcement is the usual drabble about fastening seatbelts and returning tray table to its up right position.

Solitude awaits me in London. I'm sure by now it's everyone's guess that I've headed there after I moved out of the house we shared together. They won't find me. I've got an apartment under an assumed name and I'm sure I can find someone to deliver whatever I need. Money talks and silence can be purchased if the price is right. Thankfully, I have the means.

I just have to make it through the airport and the blinding flashes.

With a bump and screeching tires, I was home. Walking the jet way was an opportunity to steel my nerves. I wished I'd had another shot because my hands were shaking as I put my sunglasses on and tugged the bill of my hat down as far as it would go. I blew out a breath and headed toward the gate. Hopefully my agent followed my request for a car to be waiting for me. I raised my head to spot the man with a small placard with my name on it. After I acknowledged him and the two muscled apes that stood at his side, my gazed returned to the ground.

The smell of rain hit me as we exited the airport. The bright lights from the flashbulbs blinded me as I was ushered into a black car with tinted windows. I barely had time for get the door shut completely before the car was speeding way from the curb.

Smoke from clove cigarette filled the interior of the vehicle. This could only mean one thing; Jasper. The curly mop of blonde I saw was tantamount to an angel. I knew Jazz had been bumming around England somewhere so I shouldn't have been so surprised he came to rescue me. Of course, if I hadn't thrown my phone in the pool I might have made the arrangement myself.

"Thanks, Jazz. But for the love of god crack a window! I'm suffocating. And gimme a cigarette."

He barked a laugh. "You look like shit, son."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Hell no. I didn't want to talk about it. I lit the cigarette and hit it hard. Calm washed over me in an instant.

"Wanna get laid? I know these freaky chicks …" A smirk crossed his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. Fucking assclown, he made me grin even though I didn't want to.

"I'll pass."

"Wanna get drunk?"

"Now you're talking. Lose the paps and take me home."

"Sure thing, man, but are you sure you're passing on the chicks? Jessica has a huge rack and no gag refle—"

"Jasper! Home, man. I just wanna hide out."

He didn't say another word. After we shook our tails and doubled back twice we pulled up to an old building. It had once been a warehouse that I had converted into a huge studio apartment. It was nothing but open spaces and clean lines. I finally felt like I could breathe for the first time in days.

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XoXo—BB

& I'm currently unbeat'd if you're up for it say so.