Panes of perfect blue glass, in an endless stretch of beauty. Smooth, even-planed, flawless. It was like all the glass came from a single sheet; though further background knowledge of the construction of the building would show that to be false. It was one of the most beautiful and unearthly things Athrun had ever seen. He marveled at it, running hesitant and careful hands over its surface. Not even a bump. Not even a crack.

And he found himself envious of it.

The day she brought him to the mansion, the day she hired him as her guard, was the day that he first noticed the glass. He had followed her on her systematic tour of the grounds, beginning to subconsciously fill the role of a silent, stoic guard. He couldn't help but notice it as they walked by, the sunlight drifting through it and casting surreal beams of tinted light. The reaction to it was almost involuntary, as he felt his feet slow to a halt and his eyes unable to move from the sight. She had smiled at him wryly, as if this wasn't the first time someone had been affected in such a way.

Do you like it?

It's been here since I can remember.

It's a surprise it wasn't damaged with the attack.

Hmmm, I don't really know. All I know is that it was made by some artist hired by one of my ancestors. It took him 2 years just make all that glass.

The design specs are downstairs actually. I can't make any sense of them though. You might be able to though Athrun, I'll show you them later if you'd like.

Don't be stupid Athrun, it's no trouble. It's just a flight of stairs.

A bitter smile came on his lips at the memory. Her spirit had filled the room then, excited to talk about just about anything. Excited to share knowledge with him, spend time with him, appreciate him. In those moments, those moments of brief, fleeting happiness, he had felt whole. Unbroken. He truly felt, for the first time in many years, that he was right where he belonged.

Foolishly, like many young men before him, he let himself believe that it would stay that way.

He had to make an identity; the one that he had would cause undue suspicion and mistrust where ever he went. To be able to stay with her, and to take up the job she offered him, he had to change his name. He remembered, she had wanted him to pick his own name. She had wanted it to be something that he wouldn't resent, something he would come to like in the years to come. He knew then, a part of him knew that he would probably never be able to use his real name again.

That very same night, he had opened up the phonebook to page 234.

He couldn't think of any other name that he would want. He liked his name, even if his surname had so much hatred surrounding it. So he decided that he would let chance decide for him. A random flip through the phonebook seemed like just the thing to do.

He closed his eyes and let his finger rest on a random spot on the page. He made a silent vow to himself, that unless the name was something incredibly strange and unsuitable for keeping undercover, he would use that name for his identity. Even if he didn't like it.

Slowly letting his eyes open, he peeked with apprehension at the page before him. He let his eyes trail down to the spot where his finger now rested.

Phone Number: 756-235-2789, Address 13045 Gurlington...

Athrun shook his head slightly, drawing his eyes up to the line above. To the owner of the phone number and address.

Dino, Alex

He blinked, looking at the name. It sounded plain. Ordinary. In addition to that, as he scanned the rest of the page, he found that there were five other Alex Dino's in the area.

A smile grew on his face.

It was perfect.

The next day, they had applied for his papers, using the excuse that his identification had been burned in the attack on Orb. With the word of the Lioness on his side, the officials at the passport office had no trouble accepting this little story.

He didn't realize it at the time, but the moment his curvy signature was on that document, the moment he took that name, his life was forever changed.

The name Alex was a shadow; almost a mockery of his true name. At first he had to concentrate, and remind himself that when people said the name "Alex", or called out the name "Alex", that they were talking to him. Alex was a bodyguard, a stiff professional. Alex was quiet, considerate, and insignificant. Alex had never done anything really important in his life, Alex lived in a two room apartment on Marysbourough Road and the only time he would get away from his work was to occasionally go out for a drink on Friday's with his neighbour.

Alex was transparent. Alex was smooth. Alex was precise. Alex was a flawless guise.

But Alex wasn't him.

And as he looked at the panes of shimmering glass, Athrun could see exactly why that bothered him so much.

He was a man of action. He would never stand by when there was the possibility that he could do something. As Athrun, he was a man of duty, a man of sacrifice, consequences be damned. He was a man that burned with passion; a man worthy of her heart.

Alex was not.

Alex stood stoically while the other members of the board tread all over her. Alex quietly left the room while Yuna snaked his arms around her. Alex let her flounder for words, watched her emotions get trampled, and let her fend for herself without even lifting a finger.

Athrun cleaned up the mess. Athrun came back after hours to hold her in his arms. Athrun came back to criticize the board in empty hallways, to reassure her of her position. Athrun came back to weakly crack jokes, just to see that golden smile make it's way back onto her face.

Alex could do none of that.

And Athrun hated him for it.

For the first time that evening, he had found a crack in that flawless blue glass.

And it wasn't beautiful anymore.