Chapter Two - Robert

There was a flurry of snow in the air as he stepped off the plane. Pulling his jacket tighter around him, there was a small commotion up ahead. Airports were always a minefield for him. Step on one, and it would go off in your face. Keep your head down, and hope you make it to the car ok. Flash lights penetrated the terminal window as he approached it and behind him he heard someone remark that they had seen lightening. If only...he wished. Dashing into the building, glad to be out of the cold he made his way towards the baggage claim and waited by the conveyor belt. His eyes scanned for the red suitcase which was his, praying it would be the first off. It made sense, since he had been the last one on the plane back in London.

As predicted, his case flew past first and he grabbed it quickly, pulling it behind him as he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head. There was no way to get used to it. The flashing lights, the incessant questions. The interest in every move he made. His mind shut down as he made his way through the terminal. Just get to the car...Just get to the car....Surely they had enough pictures?

It was still so new to him. The fame. He'd had a taste of it before, but nothing like this. He'd had no idea how the whole thing would blow up, become a sensation.

"Rob." He heard the voice break into his thoughts and he turned to address the person who had called him.

But he didn't know their face. They were a stranger. Worse, they were paparazzi. And they knew more about him than he knew about them.

"Rob..." Someone called again. "Rob..."

A large hand gripped his shoulder. "Are you deaf?"

Clearly startled, he turned and shrugged the hand off, immediately regretting what he had done.

"Jesus christ, Dean! You're meant to be waiting by the car!"

The large man smiled and gave a sarcastic wave to the camera's which were now backing off.

"I thought you could use a hand." He whispered, taking the red suitcase and leading the young man out of the terminal into a waiting car.

Once behind the blacked out windows, he was finally able to breathe. The man in the driver's seat was someone he didn't recognise, but his bodyguard seemed to know him well, and that was good enough for him. Switching on his cell phone it began to vibrate immediately. It would have to wait. He was exhausted.

"How far is the hotel?" He asked, yawning.

"Manhattan. We got to drive through Queen's first." Dean replied.

He sighed, watching the busy road fly past. "I need a shower and a beer."

"That's all a man needs..." The driver remarked, in a thick New York accent.

Rob leant his head back and felt his eyes become heavy. It never ceased to amaze him how he had ended up here. He was itching to get the script in his bag out and start reading it over again, but he knew the words would merge together on the page. He'd committed to this before his fame had erupted. He'd wanted to do it, regardless of the millions he could have been paid doing other jobs. He had somehow found himself as a proper actor. Getting paid to do Hollywood movies. It didn't tie in with his London childhood. He was still trying to figure it all out.

"I've got three days until filming starts. Seven interviews tomorrow morning and The Late Show tomorrow night. One free day in six months."

It suddenly occured to him that it was possible that he wasn't going to see his family again for almost a year. He'd left them behind at Heathrow, their smiling faces waving him off. His Mother had cried through the smile, and this had bothered him at the time. His sisters, both supportive and worrying had stood there and watched him leave. Lizzie understood better than any of them that his life had changed beyond all recognition. She'd had some fame of her own. But Victoria, in her own way, as the oldest, probably would have worried more anyway.

"This is amazing!" She'd said at the terminal back in England. "I still can't believe it..."

Rob was more neutral. "I've just spent two months filming in Portland, and you can't believe I'm going to New York?" He laughed. "We've been to New York before!"

She brushed off his nonchelant words. "Yes but that was nothing, just a holiday, this is HUGE!"

He tried not to let her words get to him, he smiled and embraced her tightly.

He heard the whispers around them. Is that Robert Pattinson? It is...It's the guy from Twilight!

He knew they heard them too, but they never let on.

"I guess I'll see you guys....when I see you." He said, before boarding the flight in the first class section.

That was something he still wasn't used to. But as the plane had taken off, and England drifted away, that sense of excitement and dread merged together and somehow he managed to fall asleep.

"Rob...Wake up...."

Dean's face was looking down on him. "We're at the hotel."

"Why are we round the back?" Rob inquired.

"You don't want the paps to find out where you're staying, do you? You'll never get any sleep with them flash bulbs going off!"

He felt his cell phone begin to vibrate again.

"I've got to take this..." He said, walking into the back entrance of the hotel he would be calling home.