Guy can't help but smile at the cosmic irony of it all. Luke had to be the only person in this building, and every single building like it across the world, who hadn't thought through all the fame, glory and attention that came with this particular career path.

"Probably not. You could always change your hair, get an iris dye," he gestures vaguely, habitual little handwaves. "Go by a new name. They'll dig it up, but it'll throw them off a little."

Unless we get accepted and they catch us on our way, he doesn't say, which will probably happen. He'd already thought of potential headlines for his own situation anyway - Luke would certainly be the prodigal son. The papers would eat him up no matter what he did, but everyone loved someone trying not to take credit.