ALAN - An Alan Rickman fanfic

Chapter 18 - 3470 Miles Away

Three days overdue. Apologies! You know that I like to do these updates weekly, but as I explained, things are a little busy at the moment and I never want to rush, so each update will aim to be weekly, but if it isn't, just know that it's being put together whenever I get a moment. 

I have a nice long HOT chapter for you! I have a question at the end too which I'd love your input for.

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The secret was out. Months of sneaking trips to Alan's dressing room, leaving just a little bit later or earlier than him in order to meet him parked outside waiting for me... now it was all overridden by Lizzy baring witness to my tearful face as I said goodbye to him. Our secret was no more, and foolishly I had tried to play it off as if the man driving the flash Mercedes was my father and not the man I've been sleeping with for two months.

Alan had parked around the side of the theatre for a reason. That had become our spot, out of sight of prying eyes. Neither of us would have expected at that very moment that Lizzy would be exiting the backstage doors with a bag of trash, witnessing our goodbye. I wonder if he noticed.

"It was Alan, wasn't it?" Lizzy asks again, derailing my rickety train of thought.

I look up with a nervous nod. There was no denying.

Timely, others filter into the staffroom.

"We'll talk later," Lizzy's motherly brows raise. Guilt is already eating me up. Alan was barely away from me for two seconds and our secret is out all because of me and my weak heartstrings that were being played like a violin as he pulled away.

It's ok, I tell myself. It stops here. Lizzy doesn't need to know anything more. My head is working overtime trying to find a reason that was convincing enough to explain why I left his car in tears. He was talking to me about my father. Yes. Could that be it? Would she buy it? I must be transparent. Lucas asked me more than once if I was feeling ok this morning.

I couldn't focus in our afternoon meetings, and even lunch - which I couldn't wait for - involved taking a trip to the supplier for further materials that hadn't arrived for the Les Mis set pieces. Our manager Greg was fretting over the limited time left before the deadline. "This show needs to be up and running in nine fucking days," he stresses for the third time pacing across the stage on his phone trying to get a hold of them. "It's 2 o clock, where the fuck is everyone? Lucas, Ava go with Lizzy and whip down there. Tell them the set boards were supposed to arrive yesterday."

It's 6:30 when Lizzy and I clock off. We worked an extra hour, and I'm sure Greg would have us work five more unpaid if she didn't say something.

"You hungry?" She asks, putting on her jacket. She suggests Thai food and unfortunately hasn't forgotten the topic we were speaking of earlier. It comes up the second after our drinks are served.

"So..." she sits back.

I retrieve the archived response that had been in my head all day - that Alan had lend an ear to my personal issues regarding my father. Lizzy isn't buying it and smiles with suspicion.

"Honey, I wasn't born yesterday. How long has it been going on for?"

The cat is well and truly out of the bag.

"It's takes much more effort than to lie than come out with what's already very clear..." she says.

I'm not going to win this face-off.

"A few months. We just started talking and one thing led to another..."

"Are you sleeping together?"