A.N:

So this is a newly edited version of See Beneath, and I'll be updating more frequently. I'm sorry for abandoning it but I lost my muse and life caught up. I hope you enjoy reading this, leave some feedback, I'd love to get an opinion.

Becca. x

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.
~ Jane Austen

The queue to the flight desk felt like it was taking far too long. Alexander Lightwood had already been waiting about twenty or so minutes, just to get on the plane. Why couldn't these things go quicker? It's not like there was even that many people – just a hundred or so. And who knew how many were leaving in groups? The flight desk crew seemed to be taking extra time just to annoy him and to test his nerves. He needed to get on that plane. If not, he might just turn and make a beeline for the exit to run home. Sure, moving from England to Ireland didn't seem like that big a move. And the tickets were free. His apartment picked out and a deposit was put down on the building. But the thought of making this trip. Of leaving the only home he knew? That was completely and utterly terrifying.

It didn't help that this was also his first time going on a plane. What if it crashed? Isabelle had tried to reassure him beforehand, but he couldn't help but panic at the idea. What if the food was disgusting? What if there was something wrong with his passport? The plane was also going pretty high. If he caught sight of a spider, he was sure he'd end up bringing the plane down with his panic. A hundred different scenarios and fears ran through him at once, his hands sweating slightly now, fingers twitching nervously as he played each one silently through his mind. His foot tapped against the floor, and he almost stumbled forward into the person in front of him in his effort to keep up with the slowly moving line.

The sudden urge to flee grasped him, and he struggled to contain the strong need to whimper. He needed to get control of himself. If not, he'd simply scream and run in terror. Probably resulting in an attack of airport security dog piling on top of him. He wasn't that small. He was actually pretty tall, and had yet to find someone who met his height. His sudden thoughts were broken as his phone let out the shrill and chilling cackle of the Wicked Witch of the West. His expression turning from one of fear to one of annoyance, he tugged it from his pocket before clicking it on to answer, already able to hear the dramatic and screeching sound of Samantha Deveroux's voice.

"Samantha, I've told you before to stop calling me. I haven't got time for this and I'm not exactly in a great place to talk." Alec sighed, his hand rubbing at his hip in a nervous twitch. He really didn't want to have this discussion right now. It wasn't even a necessary discussion and he didn't like to argue or upset people, even if she was completely and utterly clingy and desperate – and coming from him, that was definitely saying something.

"Why would I do that, Alex? Can't talk? We're still together. You can't just decide to split up without consulting me first!" The shrill tone caused him to flinch, and his eyes rolled in utter exasperation. Out of all the people his sister Isabelle could set him up with on a night out, it had to be her. He had been completely drunk during all three of their trysts, but apparently not drunk enough. She had been clinging to him since the moment they met. Afterwards, he had threatened his sister vehemently on setting him up like that again, and she had taken it all with an eerily knowing look.

"Sam, I've told you before. I'm leaving – immigrating – moving. Not. Coming. Back." He said, his tone deliberately slow and filled with faux disappointment. Glancing up at the line for his flight, he held back a sigh as he noted he'd still be waiting another good while.

"You can't just leave me! What about us? We are a perfect match and you know it, Alex." She snapped down the line, and he could hear her fake nails tapping impatiently against the side of her phone. "You can't just leave me now, Alex, we've our whole lives ahead of us! Together! Do you even know how far away Dublin is for my career?"

"I know it's not fair Sam, but things happen. It would be insane to drop an opportunity like this, and you know it." Sighing, Alec ran his calloused fingers through his thick hair, letting the brunet locks fall onto his forehead in disarray. "And, I do realise how far Dublin is," not far enough, he silently added, "and I realise your career is important, but I really have a great chance here, you know that." I've said it to you about twenty times now, he added silently. Shifting the strap to his bag to a more comfortable position, he set the phone on his shoulder, his ear almost painfully pressed against it as he took five steps forward – the largest movement he's made since joining the wait.

The voice on the opposite end of the phone became high pitched and desperate, the tone adding to his sudden headache. Where was a painkiller when he needed it? His eyes darted downward at the abstinence ring that shone boldly on his finger. A congratulations for managing to stay away from drugs for five years. It was an idiotic thought though. He didn't deserve a ring. He had no one but himself to blame for the mess he got himself in, and if it weren't for his little sister interfering and giving him a slap to the face, he probably would still be doing drugs… Or dead.

"Baby, I can't lose you. We have suck a great thing going on between us here. Don't give up on us, please baby. You have a great job here. You don't need to move to get a new one. You've got managers lining up at your front door to sign you. Please, you can't leave me, Alex."

Grimacing at the tone, Alec raised his eyes heavenward, shaking his head, annoyed at the nickname she and she alone had dubbed him when they first met. Silently, he took a breath of relief at the thought of moving further from her nasally voice and clingy attitude. "Sam, I'm going, it's done. Anyway, we're both at pinnacles in our careers. You can't leave London – you just got signed to the modelling career you've been dying to get with; but I can and will leave. In fact, I'm at the airport now, and I have to turn my phone off soon."

The voice suddenly went incredulous and so high that Alec flinched, leaning away from the phone, yet still able to hear every crisp and sharp word. He was sure if he held a glass up to the phone it would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. "Are you breaking up with me? Over the PHONE?! How could you!"

Clearing his throat, Alec winced at the clearly exaggerated screech, and he hoped that she wasn't somewhere public, if only to save her from giving herself a bad reputation that she was clearly capable of doing without his help. "Sam, we were never technically together. We hooked up a few times, and if I remember clearly, we were both pretty out of it due to drinking every damn time. It's not like we've been dating for years. You're completely overreacting."

"Are you saying you had to be drunk to end up in my bed? What the hell Alex! You said what we had was special! How could you do this to me?! To us!" Sobs could be heard down the line now, and Alec blew a loud puff of air from his nose, silently wishing he had some form of alcohol or a cigarette by his side. He wondered why he had even agreed to meeting her in the first place.

Opening his mouth, he didn't even realise what he had said until the words left his lips. "Yes exactly!" Catching himself, he cleared his throat loudly to cover his slip. "I mean, no. No, of course not, Samantha. Look, we had a few fun nights. They were fun, really. And you're a great woman. It's just… It's better this way, Sam. You have a much better chance of finding Mr. Right if I'm not in the way. Long distance relationships have never been my… I've never done it and I don't want to put us both through that kind of way." The words were complete and utter bullshit, but he couldn't give a damn at this point. He was nearing the end of the line. Five more people and he'd be free. He needed to make sure he had his papers out beforehand too.

"Listen, Sam. I'm sorry, but I've to go. I'm blocking up the line now and the sign says I have to turn off my phone or they won't let me on." He lied through his teeth, glancing back as he caught sight of a doe eyed teen clutching a newspaper, giving him quick, sly glances before staring back to her newspaper, her mouth falling into a small 'o'. Realising he'd been recognised, his cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red as he quickly finished speaking. "Have a good life. I wish you the best and all that."

He put the phone down, cutting the phone off as she began a new tirade of endless and pointless ranting, quickly clicking his phone to Flight Mode. Releasing a breath, his fear and excitement came rushing back as he realised he only had to wait for two more people before he could go. His palms became damp as he slid his phone into his pocket, tightly clutching the strap of his bag. His free hand moved to tug his ticket and passport from the opened part of the bag, grimacing as the passport fell open, revealing what he believed to be an absolutely horrid photograph of himself staring blankly upwards.

A tap on his shoulder made him pause and turn; a quizzical expression on his face as he caught the awed eye expression on the young teen girl who stood behind him. His expression turned to confusion as her newspaper was thrust under his nose with a pen, and he fought to sneeze at the sudden inky smell that invaded his nostrils. Leaning back, he blinked at her, waiting for the nervous and excited girl to speak, immediately wishing she hadn't afterwards.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm so sorry for interrupting you, especially when we're about to go on a plane and all, but I just.. My newspaper and you… And I'm completely babbling and everything, but aren't you Alexander Lightwood, that new player for the Dublin GAA team, right. I'm not just deluding myself and talking to someone who looks like him? Oh, my gosh, you're not his twin are you? That would just be so awkward, but you're still hot and all and anyway I was wondering – if you are Alexander and that – could you please, please, please sign my paper? That's got to be the most boring thing you've had to sign but it would be something to show my friends when I get home. They're never going to believe me for a second otherwise that I've met someone famous. Have you ever met anyone famous? Aren't you also really like… Fit and stuff? My dad says you're going to be the next best thing and my dad loves football and he's been hoping you'd get signed and all."

Her voice was equally as awed and excited as her expression now. She spoke complete gibberish, her words joining together, and if he didn't know any better he'd guess she was either about to faint with her eagerness or jump on him. And he would rather neither of those things would happen. Especially when he was so close to freedom. He could practically smell the greener grass. It was like a beckoning finger, and he flashed her an embarrassed smile, his ears turning a light shade of red as he cleared his throat, his hand reaching the newspaper.

Alec nodded his head, as was the polite thing to do, fixing the strap on his shoulder, before shrugging and nodding his head. "Yes, that's me." He murmured softly, taking the paper tentatively, and poising the pen over the image of him running across a patch of green. Silently wondering when that awkward photo had been taken, he signed his name before quickly handing it back. "Nice to meet you." He added quietly, before retreating to the flight desk, making his getaway desperately.