Herophine: All Good Things

Chapter 15

Hero's POV:

"Flight 202 boarding now to New York."

Despite the words coming over the speaker not far from where I've seated myself in the corner of the gate, I'm much more focused on Jo's sweet morning voice in my other ear.

"Oh shit, baby they're calling us now. I better get going," I groan into my iPhone pressed hard against my ear. I would have FaceTimed her as soon as I sat down, but for some ungodly reason, she still has a fear about our relationship being in the public eye and repeatedly told me someone could easily see her on my screen. Okay, okay. I get it. Privacy. I just do what makes her happy when it comes to that argument.

"Ugh, okay. I miss you already," she quietly says through the phone.

"I miss you too," I say smiling. Thoughts of this morning haven't left my mind and probably won't until we are together again. My flight is at dawn this morning since I'll be traveling across the entire country to make it to NY by this afternoon. Despite my attempt to sneak around as quietly as possible; take a quick shower and finish packing before the sun came up this morning, Jo must have had an internal alarm set because she joined me in the shower as soon as the water turned on. Let's just say packing was definitely rushed due to the events that took place prior, and I'm praying I have a decent wardrobe to last me for the next couple of days.

"I'll call you as soon as I land," I say, tucking my phone in between my ear and my shoulder while picking up my carry on in one hand and laptop in the other.

"Okay. Safe travels. I love you." I can hear how sad she sounds despite trying her hardest not to be.

"I love you, Jo," I slowly say, waiting a few seconds before returning her goodbye. I slide my phone into the side pocket of my black joggers and make my way to the back of the line which has now almost all boarded the awaiting plane. Everyone in the place has a mask on which thankfully has helped keep myself from being noticed so far. That and the hat covered by the hood of my sweatshirt I've sported this early in the morning. As much as I feel like I have a fucking bag over my head, it's honestly been nice to blend in while I'm just trying to mind my own business.

"Thank you Mr.... Fiennes Tiffin," the security guard draws out my name as she hands me back my passport and boarding pass. She's a younger woman, probably no older than thirty, dressed in her work attire and her long brown hair pulled back in a tight bun. If she wasn't wearing a mask, I could easily see the smirk she's most likely giving me to match the tone in her voice.

Yeah, it's me. Let's not make a deal of it.

I politely nod back to her and collect my things once again before descending down the corridor to the plane.

Later that afternoon

"Hero! I was expecting your call any minute now. How was your flight?" My manager, Meredith says on the other line.

"It was fine. Nothing like sitting with your knees to your chest for five hours," I sarcastically say as I wait for my bag to reveal itself on the conveyer belt. Jesus, I feel like I've been sitting in a cardboard box for a year, my legs are not meant for that shit.

"Well, darling. Most of the human race was not blessed with such long limbs. It's something to be thankful for, really," she chuckles. "I've sent a driver to pick you up at the west entrance. It's a black SUV, license plate number is 580-MOB. New York plates. You can't miss it. He should be there waiting, his name is Daniel. You've got about two hours until they're expecting you at the studio so he will take you to your hotel so you can drop your things off and relax for a minute. Call time is at 4pm. Daniel will be back to pick you up at about 3:20."