Hey Guys! I just started writing this when I was bored, I have actually no idea where this is going but I'll try to keep writing it. If for some reason I decide to stop I will most definitely inform you.
Alexandra Bells walked past Stark Tower gazing up at the darkening sky, swinging the plastic bag full of chinese takeaway, not caring if all the food got messed up. She took a subway line and headed home, listening to some of the loudest music she had on her cellphone and trying to shut out the world. She went up the elevator and grabbed the department's keys out of her pocket with a leatherclad hand. Pushing the door open with her elbow she turned on the lights and walked to the open kitchen, her high heels tapping the hardwood floors.
Alex dropped the plastic bag on the counter and kicked off her shoes, she hung her jacket on a high chair and walked to one of the windows. In complete silence she grabbed a packet of cigarettes from a drawer and lit one, leaning on the window frame and sighing, watching the lights of NYC. After finishing the single cig she dropped it out the window and walked to the fridge. Before opening it her eyes landed on a note she hadn't taken down yet.
"Sweetheart.
I transferred $2000 to your account for you to buy food with this month. Don't forget to feed your dad. Pay the bills. Keep your school marks up. Don't gain weight. Don't get into fights, I'm too busy to talk to your teachers. I'll be back in a month.
Mom"
Alex's eyes saddened for a second before blanking again. She swung the door open and took out a bottle of coke. She poured two glasses and put one of them on a tray along with her dad's food. She walked down a hall and walked into her father's study. He hadn't been out of the room in at least three years, if you didn't include the bathroom that was attached to it.
"Dad?"
He didn't look up at her from his computer, too fixated on developing his own language to look up at her.
"I brought you dinner."
"Leave, I'm busy."
Alex left, not bothering to say anything, and walked straight to the livingroom, grabbed her dinner and sat at the table with her homework next to her. She took out her french first, seeing as she was fluent she could do that the quickest. She also had biology and physics homework which wasn't as bad as it sounded seeing as it wasn't hard at all. Senior subject were easy and she could spend the rest of the day, and most of the night, composing her music.
Dumping the leftovers in the trashcan she walked to her room, passing by her dad's study and ignoring the tapping of the keyboard. She opened the door and stepped in her room, taking a few moments to look around. Her bed was high up on poles, her computer was on a small table stuck to the wall with small bookcases next to them, filled to the brim with all her books. Her literature ranged from classics to poetry, in english, french, italian, chinese and japanese. On the ground her various musical instruments were scattered around. Her cello, her violin, her spanish guitar, her electric guitar, her base guitar, her keyboard and her drum set.
She opened a window and lay on her bed, lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag. Her eyes travelled around her room, fixating themselves on single things at a time. Her littered clothing, her small notebooks and pens. She closed her eyes, keeping her lit cig between her red lips and took off her gloves, tracing the small cuts on the tops of her fingers.
She had always been alone, she was used to it. Her mother was obsessed with her job which forced her to constantly travel around the world. A conference here, a convention there. All in all, she wasn't home for more the a day at a time. Her father was a linguist, he was currently developing his own language to the point that he hadn't been out of his study for three years, and out of the apartment for at least five.
When she went to primary school the teachers frowned on her having to go home herself so her mother picked her up, but only at 9 PM. She would stay in the school library and read bookshelves at a time. Because of that she had mastered languages, instruments, some martial arts and had no difficulty with school. It seemed she was smart. Very smart even. But her parents didn't care. She didn't even know when they had stopped caring.
That was a lie. She knew very well when.
On her fourth birthday.
She had cut herself with a knife when she had tried to slice the cake. Blood had poured down her hand and almost fallen to the floor. Her mother had just bought a new carpet and would have yelled at her if she had stained it. She, as a small child, had prayed for the drops of blood not to fall. And they didn't. They froze in mid-air and hung there, like scarlet flecks of dust.
Alex opened her eyes to see thin strings of blood floating from the cuts on the tops of her fingers. They stretched and twirled and finally, at a mindless thought from her, retreated back into her hand. Her blood didn't dry, so the cuts were always open. She could manipulate the red substance freely, making it hard of making it flow away. She could use it to coat her hands when she punched someone and make her punch even harder.
Her mother hated it. Her father too. They never looked at her the same after that. Always that distrust in their eyes, always that disgust. They did their best to stay away from her. They avoided her as if she would hurt them and only made sure she was living comfortably and had enough money for whatever she wanted. Other than that, they kept away from her. They were not her family as far as she was concerned.
Stomping out the cigarette she jumped down from her bed. She strode over to her cello and started playing. She played one of bach's compositions, just to get herself warmed up. She ignored the pain of the chords cutting into her already cut fingertips, digging into her flesh, and merely made sure that no blood stayed behind.
Music, to her, was an escape, just like learning new things. She relished in it. It gave her something to do. It distracted her from the silence around her, from the emptiness that filled her inside. Oh, by no means was she a stranger to physical contact. Her mother, focussing on keeping public appearances, had insisted that she looked her best at all time. This lead to her having various amorous affairs. Her fingers left the chords and traced her left cheekbone. There had been a couple of times that the men she selected had been... rough to say the least. Bruises were basically blood that pooled under her skin and, while it was painful, she could force the blood back into her veins, so no one had ever found out.
She strode over to her keyboard, picking up one of her notebooks on her way, and prepared herself spend another whole night working on her latest project. She often had sleepless nights and she knew tonight would be one of them.
Leggings with rips in them. Short gray skirt, school uniform. White blouse. Black tie. Grey jacket, school uniform. Black leather gloves. Black leather high-heeled shoes. Black backpack filled with books. Red lips. Black eyeliner. Long black hair falling into eyes and covering her shoulders, falling past her shoulderblades.
Alex put a cup of coffee on her dad's desk along with some toast and left the apartment. She strode out of the building and walked to the nearest subway station, plugging her earphones to her cellphone and putting on music. She sat down in one of the chairs in the subway car and took out the notebook she'd been working with the whole night and kept on working, hearing the music in her mind and making the appropriate corrections.
She got to school soon and walked to the english classroom, ignoring the teacher and her classmates who were all used to her mental absence. She sat in her usual spot by the window and shut herself off from the rest of the world.
Alex was unaware of the eyes that had followed her since she stepped into the room. Dark brown eyes belonging to Trey Jerry. Trey was one of the only people that ever bothered to talk to her. He liked talking to her, even if she was in a bad mood often... all the time. She always helped him with his algebra if he asked, even if she scowled all the time. He could even say he liked her, but then again, he liked everyone. But since he was rich... most people liked using him. He was so used to it he stopped caring. Then the first time he had tried talking to her she had told him to jump off a cliff. Not being used to being treated like a normal person he started to talk to her more, until she was the only person he could trust to be honest to him. She was the only person he considered a friend.
His fangirls didn't like it.
Smiling he stood and sauntered over to where she sat, he pulled back the chair and let himself fall, carefully ignoring the whispers that followed him. He merely kept looking at her expectantly. Her eyes travelled away from her notebook up to his. She reaised her eyebrown as a silent question. He just smiled.
"Good Morning Alex."He said with a bright smile.
"Morning." Her voice was soft and feminine, but had a small hint of annoyance. "What do you want?"
He shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just thought you could use some company. Did you do your biology homework?"
"Yes."
"I didn't get it."
Alex groaned softly but burried her hand in her schoolbag, retrieving her biology notebook and dropping in in front of him. "Copy the homeowork, I'll explain during lunch."
"Ah, great! Thanks! Having you as a friend rocks!" He gave her a huge smile. He grabbed his own notebook and started copying the answers, reading the neat handwriting easily. Every now and then his eyes would travel up to her face, only to have her bright golden eyes snap away from her notebook and meet his. She'd raise an eyebrow, he'd smile and shake his head, she'd look back down to her notebook, glare at it slightly and he'd snigger.
"Thanks." He put the workbook back in her bag. "Hey, there's a party my parents were invited to tonight, I have to go. Wanna come with me?"
"No."
"Ah, come on."
"No."
"Please?"
She glared up at him. Then she looked around as if she just noticed everyone around them. They were all quiet, having followed the exchange with awed expressions on their faces. First at him actually asking her to go to a party with him and then her turning him down. She rolled her eyes and turned back to him.
"Where?"
"Tony Stark's mansion."
Alex groaned silently.
"Do I have to? Can't you ask someone else?"
Trey scowled at her. "No."
"Fine."
"Great! I'll pick you up at nine."
Alex stood leaning against the window frame in the kitchen, smoking a last cigarette before being picked up. The lights were out and she could only look outside into the city. The cigarett hung limply between her lips while one of her lace-gloved hands fingered her hair, which had been tied up in a braid with a red ribbon. Her other hand traced the golden embroidery on her black dress absentmindedly, her back laced fingers interwining with the black and red smooth silk easily. Her eyes had been left natural, with no eyeliner, and the gold of her dress really brought out the melted gold of her eyes. The dress had one strap over her right shoulder and came down just past her knees and she wore black high heels which finished the outfit nicely. Of course the whole 'wearing a dress'wasn't her cup of tea as she barely ever even wore a skirt but... the things she did for Trey. He was the only one she could stand.
The bell rang and she put out her cigarette. She grabbed her formal coat and shoved her phone into one of the pockets. She left the building, the ringing of her keys against her phone barely registering, and walked to Trey, who stood in front of a black car, dressed in a suit and talking through the window to someone. He looked up at her and his eyes widened as he took in her appeareance.
"Hey." She mumbled, pouting slightly at her discomfort in a dress.
"Hey... You look..."
"Normal?"
"Good?"
"Your surprise insults me." She pointed out in a slightly put off tone before opening the door for herself and getting into the car.
Trey took a second to compose himself before stepping in beside her and facing his parents.
"Mom, Dad, this is Alex. She's my friend." He looked up at his mom who was studying Alex with eagle eyes and his dad who was already shaking her hand eagerly. It had been some time since he had introduced anyone to the, let alone a friend. He was just glad Alex hadn't insulted his mom for staring at her... but he should give her more credit. Just because she usually didn't give a crap about politeness didn't mean she couldn't do it.
"It's lovely to meet you Alex!" Christoff Jerry started.
Alex answered with one of her incredibly rare smiles and Trey couldn't help but notice that she scootched just slightly away from his dad.
"Ah, Christoff, Leah! Glad you could make it! Who're these?"Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthopist and Iron Man walked towards one of his loyal board members and wife. His whole livingroom was filled with guests and Pepper was busy entertaining many of them, Rhodey was somewhere talking to his siperiors and frankly, he was bored.
"Tony!" Christoff Jerry smiled and shook his hand enthusiastically. His face was folded into a smile and his green eyes twinkled from behind his glasses. Leah, who was wearing a dark blue dress, smiled and extended her hand to shake Tony's, who instead of shaking it lifted it to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
"This is my son, Trey, and his friend Alex." Christoff provided, placing a hand Trey's shoulder.
"Honor to meet you sir." Trey smiled brightly and shook Tony's hand. "This my date- though we only came here as friends- not that there would be anything wrong with dating her- oh, but I just like you as a friend!" By this time he was actually talking to Alex while the adults looked on in amusement at the akward boy and the girl who merely raised her eyebrows. She rolled her eyes.
"Enough Trey, I get it." She turned to Tony and extended her hand. "Alexandra Bells, mr Stark, pleasure to meet you."
He also raised her hand to his lips. "Pleasure is mine miss Bells."
