Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: Vol. 1 (Parts 1-5)
[Prologue]
The Senior Sing-Along Spectacular
When: Friday night 8pm
Where: The Tower
Why: Homecoming Fundraiser
Who: Upperclassmen and student council members ONLY!
* Contact Pepper Potts for more info!
Natasha stared down at the flyer clutched in her hands, weighing her options: to go or not to go? That was the question, indeed. It'd been a long week (more like a long three weeks), and Natasha was exhausted. Mentally, physically—you name it. Natasha was beat.
If she was being honest with herself, Natasha's hesitancy had little to do with being stuck in a room for several hours singing cheesy songs with her classmates. Despite the rumors, she'd actually managed to make quite a few friends during her first few weeks at Marvel High, especially after her dinner with Steve. Natasha's reluctance to attend Pepper Pott's Senior Sing-Along Spectacular was due to one reason and one reason only. Scratch that. Four reasons: Bruce, Bucky, Loki, and Tony.
Whoever said that girls were the emotional sex never met those boys.
Bruce had gone from sweet and shy to broody and forlorn in a way that mystified Natasha. He had an air of dangerous desperation that intrigued her even as it was sending off sirens in her head.
The confident and self-assured Bucky of her past had yet to make an appearance. This new Bucky was angry, intense, and deeply sad. Even as she tried to hate him for disappearing way back when, Natasha's heart still ached for him.
Like Bruce, Loki was also a mystery. Natasha didn't know him well, but even she knew his behavior that week was strange. After their adventure the week before, he'd been all too eager to talk to her again. With everything that happened after the Red Room, however, Natasha distanced herself from him. She knew his confidence the rest of the week was feigned, but it was nothing compared to the almost possessive attitude he'd adopted that Monday or his sudden seeming disinterest Tuesday. In fact, Loki's behavior flip-flopped so much that week, it left Natasha dizzy.
Then there was Tony.
Tony, Tony, Tony.
Natasha didn't believe in love at first sight. Lust at first sight? Yes. But love at first? No, definitely not. Still, she couldn't lie to herself. She knew that there had been something when she met Tony. Whether it was because of the ease with which they conversed, the sudden inside jokes, or something deeper she couldn't define, Natasha knew that she was drawn to Tony for whatever reason. She'd wanted to explore it—still did, in fact—but Tony had gone cold, and Natasha couldn't figure out why.
"Hey, it's almost 8. You coming?"
Clint's voice at her door jerked Natasha from her troubled thoughts. She sighed, looking back down at the flyer, struggling under the weight of her own indecision.
"Sure."
[Part One: I Want It That Way]
"You are my fire
The one desire
Believe when I say
I want it that way…"
The night was well underway when Pepper primly suggested a "Battle of the Sexes" sing-off. Unbeknownst to her, the idea would be the catalyst for a good deal of personal strife for many, but hindsight is 20/20.
Turnout for the event was impressive; nearly all of the seniors had shown up, including some like Loki who never attended school functions. Before Pepper insisted on a round of "girls vs. boys" karaoke, the Marvel High seniors had already gone through an extensive catalog of popular and nostalgic hits sung as solos, in pairs, and even in groups.
Steve Rogers started the night off with a little Bruce Springsteen, followed quickly by Sam Wilson's rendition of "Baby Got Back." Thor's "I'm Too Sexy" had most of the senior ladies in a tizzy, especially during his mock-strip routine when he finished his first song and launched right into Ginuwine's "Pony."
The first duet of the night went to Clint and Laura with a hilarious version of Aqua's "Barbie Girl." Pepper dragged Tony onto the stage right after for several awkward minutes of "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John and Kiki Dee. Natasha watched the first with glee and the second with discomfort. She was pleasantly surprised by Bruce's unexpected performance of Otis Redding's "Try a Little Tenderness."
But as the night wore on, people started getting restless as they either waited for their turn to sing or avoided the stage like their lives depended on it. That was when Pepper brought up her idea to form teams of girls and boys and sing in a group-based competition. So, the girls and boys separated into teams. By some miracle (or Pepper's behest), Steve and Tony led the first group which included Clint, Bruce, Bucky, Sam, Rhodey, Happy, and a wide-eyed Peter Parker in a karaoke staple, "I Want it That Way."
At the beginning of the song, the atmosphere was slightly tense. Steve and Tony stood in the middle of the line-up, while Bucky loitered on the fringe of the group as far away from Tony as he could get. Bruce and Peter Parker looked about as uncomfortable as could be as they were practically dwarfed by their much larger classmates. Clint's unease had disappeared after the first few bars of the song and was now enthusiastically half-singing/half-shouting the lyrics to his heart's content.
When the first chorus hit, almost everyone in the room got into it, propelling the boys on the stage to react in kind. They took turns serenading each member of the girls' team, who were seated near the stage, with exaggerated expressions and over-the-top vocals. Everything was fun and lighthearted…until it wasn't.
Each member of the girls' team had been singled out by the time the boys got to the bridge—every member except for Natasha. Each member of the boys' team had taken his turn in the spotlight—every boy except Bucky. In that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Bucky took the mic from Steve's outstretched hand, looked Natasha in the eyes, and opened his mouth:
"You are my fire
The one desire
You are…"
The rest of the team joined in with their chorus of "you are, you are, you are," but Natasha couldn't tear her gaze away from Bucky's face. Likewise, Bucky couldn't stop staring at her. Tony, still standing as far from Bucky as humanly possible, had the unwanted advantage of watching the entire exchange. And Pepper, who had the hard-earned ability for reading Tony like a book, saw him watching them, and she wasn't pleased to see the jealousy in his eyes. She was even less pleased when he was given the mic and sang the last line while looking directly at Natasha Romanoff.
[Part Two: Wannabe]
For their song, the girls' group chose "Wannabe." Natasha reluctantly took the stage with Carol, Valkyrie, both Marias, Laura, Gamora, and a narrow-eyed Pepper. They settled into their places on the stage as the boys took their seats, everyone waiting for the song to begin. Thankfully, the pacing of the song necessitated multiple microphones, and four were brought up along with the stands. With two girls to each mic, the song began with Pepper taking the lead.
The song itself went off without a hitch. Despite her love of music and her natural ability, Natasha hadn't done much singing since her Lee Elementary days with Clint. She kept her voice contained, making sure to keep in tune with the other singers on stage during the chorus, and tried her hardest not to stand out whenever she was featured alone. But by some nasty twist of fate, the responsibility for singing crescendo of the song fell squarely on Natasha's shoulders, and she couldn't stop herself from belting out the "you gotta" refrain with as much gusto as she could muster. Her efforts were met with a standing ovation and a symphony of cheers.
The final portion of the song was sung by all of the girls together. When it was finished, everyone in the room was still on their feet, and their applause was deafening. The girls' group was unanimously named the winners before leaving the stage to make way for a second set of dueling groups.
Parched from her musical exertions, Natasha excused herself from the group and headed over to the bar, completely unaware of the brown eyes that followed her retreating figure.
[Part Three: Something to Talk About]
Much like the rest of the room, the bar was pretty crowded. Natasha made her way to the opposite end and parked herself on an empty stool by a quiet brunette who spared a smile as a way of acknowledging Natasha's presence. The bartender came almost immediately to take Natasha's order—which earned a slight chuckle from the girl next to her—and procured the requested bottle of water just as fast, prompting another chuckle.
Natasha paid for the bottle and thanked the bartender, who seemed content to ignore the other patrons in favor of staring at her. She was well aware of the brunette watching the interaction and felt herself blush. Awkwardly, Natasha raised the water bottle, shook it a little, and stressed a second "thanks," at which point the bartender finally got the hint that he was no longer wanted and reluctantly left. Natasha groaned once he was out of earshot.
"Get used to it, hun," the brunette said.
"What?"
Natasha adjusted her position on the stool to get a better look at the girl.
"I said, 'get used to it, hun,'" the girl repeated.
"Get used to what?"
The brunette looked pointedly over at the busy bartender and smirked.
"I'm not sure I follow," Natasha admitted.
Another chuckle, but there was a cynical edge to the sound. The brunette smirked. "You don't strike me as naïve," she finally said.
"I'm not," Natasha cautiously replied.
"Good."
"But I'm also not a mind reader."
Natasha's response garnered a legitimate laugh from the strange girl, who swiveled on her stool to face Natasha. The girl sized Natasha up from head to toe, studying her as if she was a problem that needed solving or a specimen to be dissected. As she did this, Natasha did her best to remain calm and collected.
"Mind reader or not," the girl said, having finished her inspection, "you'd have to be blind or just plain stupid not to realize the effect a girl like you can have on men." She took a sip from her drink before continuing. "Of course, I use the term 'men' loosely, but specifications like that are pedantic and unnecessary."
"I'm sorry, but who are you?"
The girl held out her free hand. "Maya. Maya Hansen."
Natasha shook Maya's hand and gave her name as well.
"Oh, I know exactly who you are," Maya confessed.
Rolling her eyes, Natasha replied, "I'm not surprised. Everyone seems to know everything about me these days."
"Oh yeah? Well, that's the downside of beauty, hun. Not to mention the distinct disadvantage of having an 'in' with the in-crowd."
"An 'in'?"
"You were friends with Clint Barton before you transferred, right?"
Natasha nodded.
"He was you 'in,' then," Maya explained.
"And how is that a distinct disadvantage?"
"Because you had somewhere you belonged before you even stepped foot in Marvel."
"Most people would consider that a good thing, though," Natasha countered.
"Ah, but you're forgetting the beauty component. The downside of it, anyway."
"What about it?"
Instead of looking frustrated by Natasha's questions, Maya appeared to be amused by the conversation. "We live in a superficial society, don't you agree?"
Natasha nodded slowly.
"We also live in a society that is easily distracted. As a transfer student, especially a senior transfer student, you are—by default—a shiny, new toy that everyone is socially obligated to take interest in. You, specifically, are shinier than most of the toys we've gotten at Marvel in the past few years, but you already had an…owner."
"An 'owner'?"
Maya shrugged and took a sip of her drink. "For lack of a better term."
Natasha tried, but she couldn't discern where Maya was going with this conversation. "At the risk of sounding naïve again, I still don't get your point."
"Think of it like show-and-tell. High schools are often divided into groups. It's not as cut and dried as Mean Girls would have you believe, but there are groups. These groups may be made up of autonomous individuals, but they act as single organisms with a bad case of groupthink. Your friend, Clint Barton, has historically belonged to Steve Rogers's group. So, for all intents and purposes, the Steve Roger's collective is your owner. You with me so far?"
"The analogy is unsettling, but please continue."
Maya laughed. "Yes. I'm sorry, but it's the best way to explain it." She paused. "The Steve Rogers collective is one of the most prominent groups at Marvel High. The other most prominent is the Tony Stark collective, as I'm sure you're aware. There are other small, less prominent groups, and then there are even smaller groups on the fringe of our school's social structure. One of those groups is indirectly headed by Loki Odinson. Finally, for this analogy, each group or collective represents an individual, specifically a child that would be age-appropriate for such an analogy.
"So, when Barton brought his especially shiny toy to school and spent the last few weeks showing that toy off, the other students reacted much like you would expect little kids to act before they've learned important tools like impulse control and sharing. They wanted you. Wanted to play with you. To get you alone, up close and personal, and take you for their own. To them, it's not fair that someone has you and they don't. It's silly and illogical, but it's how kids like that think; it's how the boys at our school think."
"But what does that have to do with everyone knowing everything about me?" Natasha asked, mystified by Maya's train of thought.
"It's simple. Have you ever wanted something so bad you'd do anything to get it?"
Natasha thought for a moment and then nodded.
"Didn't you want to know everything you could about that thing? Research it? Learn all about it? Fully immerse yourself in it?"
Again, Natasha nodded.
"If you know how that all feels, does it still surprise you that these groups, these collectives, these individuals, all of whom want you—the shiny, new toy—have taken the same measures? It doesn't surprise me. I don't think it's surprised anyone except you. I mean, it's hardly a secret that you disappeared with Loki during lunch last week or that you've hung out with Tony Stark and other members of his amoeba. And the spectacle of it all was on purpose. Don't worry. I'm not saying it was your intent; it was theirs. They wanted to be seen with you. In my analogy, being seen with you is the same as taking ownership away from Barton and the rest of the Steve Rogers collective."
For a moment, both girls were silent as Natasha processed Maya's explanation. Then, "That's dumb," she said.
"You're not wrong," Maya muttered into her glass.
Natasha sighed. "This whole thing is ridiculous. I should be allowed to make friends with whomever I want, collective or no."
"Again, you're not wrong."
"Besides," Natasha mumbled, almost to herself, "Tony and I are just friends."
"You're not not wrong," Maya said with a dark chuckle.
"Wait. What?"
"Just friends? You sure about that?"
"Yes. Of course."
Maya quirked an eyebrow. "You might wanna tell Pepper that."
"Why?"
"Because she's spent the last three weeks and all of tonight watching you the same way she watched me when Tony and I were 'just friends.'" Maya's use of air quotes around "just friends" made Natasha narrow her eyes and open her mouth to argue, but Maya cut her off. "It doesn't matter what your relationship with Tony is. To Pepper, he will always be her favorite shiny toy, and she doesn't play well with others when it comes to him. And, by the looks of it, I'm guessing you're Public Enemy No. 1."
A small group of girls approached Maya from behind. There were four of them. Natasha recognized one as Hope van Something-or-Other from football tryouts. Of the remaining three, one was a pretty Asian girl, one was a shy-looking, pale brunette, and the third was a tanned blonde with a fixed expression of contempt aimed directly at Natasha.
"Maya, it's our turn," the unfamiliar brunette said quietly.
"Mm. Thanks, Betty," Maya replied without even glancing back at the other girl. "Well, that's my cue, Natasha. It's been lovely." She stood up to follow the other girls towards the stage.
"Wait," Natasha called after her. "You never told me what group you're in. You know everything about me. It only seems fair that I should know something, too. More than your name, anyway."
Maya exchanged knowing glances with the other girls and smirked. "We're a special group. We float on the fringes I was telling you about, but we all have one thing in common."
"Which is…?"
Another shared look. Another smirk.
"Tony Stark," Hope answered.
"We are his Island of Misfit Toys," Maya added. "The cast-offs of the Tony Stark collective."
"Not me," the pale brunette interjected. "I never dated Tony."
"I know, hun," Maya assured her. "I was referring to the collective theory." She turned to Natasha. "Betty, here, dated Bruce—a key member of Stark's collective, but you already knew that, I'm sure."
Natasha nodded, keenly aware of Betty's sudden change of expression when she actually looked at her. Natasha was reminded of Tony's admission regarding Bruce. If everyone at this school knew what they did, it wasn't inconceivable that Betty knew of Bruce's infatuation with Natasha. From her expression, Betty was aware and wasn't pleased. The shy look was gone.
"So, all of you except Betty, have dated Tony?" Natasha asked, though it wasn't really a question; she knew the answer.
Together, Maya, Hope, the Asian girl, and the blonde nodded.
"Yup," Maya said. "Hope, Helen, Christine, and I were each once the shiny, new toys. But Tony, with a little help from Pepper, gets bored easily. She always wins. And, one-by-one, we all joined the dreaded list of exes."
The blonde caught Natasha's eye, adding, "And we are legion."
Moving as a single unit, all five girls turned around.
"Be seeing you," Maya added, glancing back at Natasha with a wink before her and her friends disappeared into the crowd.
Natasha tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. She got the feeling that another bottle of water wouldn't help. Numbly, she wandered out of the room and headed downstairs. If water wouldn't help, maybe some fresh air would.
[Part Four: Say My Name]
Ever since their little chat the week before, Pepper knew Tony was upholding his end of the deal and steering clear of that pesky redhead. It wasn't an assumption or blind faith in the boy she loved; Pepper knew. She'd never confess as much out loud or explain how she knew, but she did. The "how" of it all may have had something to do with some secretly procured technology and the combined efforts of herself, Maria Hill, and an unwitting Happy Hogan with assistance from an equally unwitting Phil Coulson.
But the "hows" and "whys" and whatnot weren't important. The only thing that was important was that Pepper knew. She knew!
Perhaps that was why she felt her stomach drop and her brain short-circuit when she saw how Tony reacted to the moment between Bucky and the Romanoff girl. Or when she was overcome with white-hot rage as she watched her boyfriend deliver the last line of that corny pop song to another girl. Or why she was about two seconds away from screaming bloody murder at him now after catching him staring at the redhead who was sitting at the bar and talking to someone. The only thing stopping Pepper from giving in to that primal urge was the "who." Five minutes of talking to Maya Hansen would probably convince Little Miss Muffet to stay away from Tony.
Pepper didn't like surprises, which was why she always came prepared. It's why she did the work, the research. She didn't leave things to chance; she knew for fuck's sake.
It had been a week since their chat and almost two weeks since Tony had any meaningful interaction with the new girl. Historically, that meant Tony should be over it by now. He was a creature of habit, a book, a series of patterns; she could read him and predict what he would do, say, even think. She anticipated his needs and actions with the same effort required for breathing—an action that became more and more difficult with every second that passed as Tony continued to watch Romanoff out of the corner of his eye.
Pepper tried distracting him with conversation, but that had been pointless. She tried distracting him with kisses, but a stole glance mid-kiss caught him with his eyes similarly open and otherwise engaged, still watching that insufferable girl. She finally dragged him outside for some alone time on the roped-off terrace for a full-blown make-out session, and even that didn't seem to prevent his gaze from wandering back to the redhead sitting at the bar, seen easily through the glass doors. She gave up.
"Tony, what's wrong? You seem distracted," Pepper murmured, trying her best to sound loving and sympathetic—anything else but anger and annoyance with him and seething hatred for her.
Tony leaned back against the terrace railing and sighed, forcefully dragging his gaze from the bar and looking out into the night. "I just got some stuff on my mind."
"What kind of stuff, Tony?"
"Just stuff, Pepper. I'm allowed to have my own stuff."
"I know that. I'm just worried. You haven't been yourself lately. Aren't I allowed to be concerned?" Silence. Had he heard her? "Tony?"
"Dammit, Pepper!" he cried, slamming his hand against the cool metal railing. "Can you just leave it for once? I've done everything you've asked of me, but you're still not happy. What do I have to do?"
Pepper watched emotion after emotion, all foreign and unfamiliar to her, wash across Tony's face, leaving her feeling unsettled like she was lost in uncharted waters without a map or compass.
"I'm sorry, Tony. I wasn't trying to upset you."
He was quiet as he stared at a spot on the ground.
"I know," he finally said. "Sorry for losing my cool."
"It's okay, Tony," she whispered, venturing closer to him, eager to resume her attempts at distracting him. "I love you," she said just as she was about to reach out to him, but he stopped her.
"I'm really not in the mood right now."
Pepper froze. That had never happened. He had never flat-out turned her advances down. Never. If she was out in uncharted waters, then her boat had sprung a leak, and she was sinking.
Something just past her shoulder caught his attention, and he straightened up. "I need some fresh air. I'll meet up with you later," he said, moving towards the door.
"But we're outside."
"A moment alone, then."
"But we're alone, Tony," she countered.
"By myself."
He walked through the doors, making a beeline for the set of doors that would take him downstairs. She looked over to where Romanoff had been sitting, but the redhead was gone. Pepper had a bad feeling about Tony's sudden departure coinciding with Romanoff's equally sudden disappearance, but she didn't like feeling….
She preferred knowing.
[Part Five: Hit Me with Your Best Shot]
"Miss me, Miss Iglesias?"
Tony's voice. It'd been nearly two weeks since she'd heard it, but Natasha knew it was him without looking. She wasn't quite sure how he'd found her hiding spot in the alley behind The Tower, but that wasn't what mattered at that moment.
"Oh, so you're talking to me again?"
"I deserved that," he admitted, not missing a beat.
"Damn straight," she muttered.
"Would it help my case if I apologized?"
She shrugged. "Won't know unless you try."
"Fair point," he conceded. "Please, Miss Iglesias, allow me to extend the sincerest of all my apologies for going incommunicado on you. Trust me, it hurt me far more than it hurt you."
At this, her head snapped up, and she locked eyes with him. "Seriously? That's your idea of an apology. That sucked. Try again."
Tony laughed, but it was hollow and sad.
"You're right." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Natasha. It was a dick move to ignore your text and you, for that matter, for the last week or so. I truly am sorry."
"Then why'd you do it?"
He grimaced. "I'm not at liberty to say. Doing so would be rather ungentlemanly of me, and I'd rather not give you another reason to think ill of me."
"Me, me, me. A touch narcissistic, aren't we?"
Tony chuckled. "Only in the execution of my reasoning. Not in the reason, itself. Again, sorry."
"Yeah, well, when you play with words as you do, things are bound to get lost in translation."
"Makes sense," Tony said, nodding. "But for some reason, I get the feeling that you understand me a bit better than most."
Natasha couldn't help but smirk. "You? No. Your odd speech patterns and circular thinking? Yes. Then again, I've volunteered in plenty of nursing homes. I'm used to talking with stroke victims and people with dementia, so I've had practice."
"Ouch, Miss Romanoff."
"Don't complain. You had that coming."
"I guess you're right," he acquiesced. "You mind if I have a seat?" He pointed to the spot on the makeshift bench next to her. She shrugged, so he took that as a "no, I don't mind," and eased himself down next to her.
They sat there for a while, breathing in the cool night air and enjoying the oddly comfortable silence. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to break the spell, but something was nagging at the back of Natasha's mind. She needed answers.
"So," she began warily, "I met your ex. Or, exes, rather."
"Oh yeah? Which ones?"
"Maya Hansen, Hope van Whatsherface, and two others. Asian girl and blonde."
"Hope van Dyne. The Asian girl is Helen Cho. Sweet girl, by the way. I'd say you need to be more specific with the blonde but, given the company, I'm going to assume it was Christine Everhart."
"You know what they say when you assume, right?"
Tony mindlessly waved his hand as if he was waving his concerns away. "Meh. I'm pretty sure I can't make an even bigger ass out of myself in front of you than I already have, especially if you've met any of my exes."
"Good answer," Natasha said, the ghost of a smirk lingering on her lips.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"Was it everything you thought it'd be?"
"Mm. That and more, Miss Romanoff."
"Glad to hear. So, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be upstairs with your girlfriend?" Natasha tried and mostly succeeded in her attempt to not sound jealous. They were just friends.
"Not really my scene at this very moment," Tony quipped. "What about your boyfriend? I can't imagine Mr. Odinson would be too happy to know your sulking in an alley with an undesirable figure like myself."
Natasha snorted. "Loki is not my boyfriend."
"Good to know."
Natasha turned and stared at him. "Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why is that a good thing to know? That Loki's not my boyfriend, I mean."
Tony's eyes widened a bit as he realized his slip and tried to shake it off with a shrug of indifference. "Oh, I don't know. Just something to say, I guess."
"Liar."
"You're not wrong."
Maya Hansen's face entered unbidden into Natasha's thoughts as she remembered everything she'd said.
"You're not the first person to say that to me tonight," she mused.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Maya said the exact same thing. Twice, actually."
"What about, if you don't mind me asking."
"You."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Well, you and the other boys at school. The thought process and pack mentality of the average American male teen, I guess."
"Huh. So, good things?"
"About you? Never."
The corner of Tony's mouth tilted upwards. "Did you guys talk about anything else? About me, I mean?"
Natasha nodded, aware of his sideways gaze. "She thought we were together. I told her we were just friends." She thought she saw a bit of disappointment in his eyes but continued on. "And she told me that I better watch out because I'm just a shiny, new toy, and you get bored easily."
Tony went still.
"That's not true," he finally whispered.
"Which part?" she asked, similarly quiet.
He shrugged. "I guess I do get bored easily, but I don't treat people like objects. And there are extenuating circumstances when it comes to the mess that is my love life."
"Like?"
He chuckled. "Again, it would be ungentlemanly of me to go into the details."
"It's Pepper," Natasha said.
Tony looked at her but said nothing. He wasn't going to betray his relationship with Pepper, but Natasha could tell he was trying to explain everything with just a look. It was a look that said, "I'm trapped. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm stuck somewhere I don't want to be. Help me." She wanted to help him; she really did, but it wasn't her place.
"And you are far more important than a toy," Tony continued after an eon of silence.
The words were spoken so softly and at such a low volume, Natasha couldn't be sure they'd been spoken at all. When she looked at him, however, she knew they had been. Even though she hadn't known him long, she'd rarely seen him serious except for when she told him about Bucky that day in the nurse's office. But nothing in her memory of him compared to what she saw now.
Tony was shaking slightly. His shoulders, his hands, the muscles in his face. He looked like he was on the verge of some explosive emotion that Natasha couldn't name. He was struggling to contain it and failing miserably.
"I like you," he uttered suddenly.
"You have a girlfriend." It was all she could say; anything else would've been dangerous.
"I know," he said. There was another long stretch of silence, then, "Do you like me?"
I don't know and maybe and I shouldn't and I don't care and I don't know why.
"Yes."
A/N: Ended up having to split this chapter into 2 volumes. Vol. 1 contains the prologue and parts 1 through 5. Vol. 2 will include parts 6 through 10. Each part is named and inspired by a popular karaoke song given the setting. Sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it!
Song playlist for "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: Vol. 1 (Parts 1-5)":
Part One: I Want it That Way - Backstreet Boys
Part Two: Wannabe - Spice Girls
Part Three: Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt
Part Four: Say My Name - Destiny's Child
Part Five: Hit Me with Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar
Here's a bonus sneak peak at the playlist for "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: Vol. 2 (Parts 6-10)":
Part Six: Can't Help Falling in Love - Elvis Presley
Part Seven: Jolene - Dolly Parton
Part Nine: I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
Part Eight: I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston version (originally by Dolly Parton)
Part Ten: Don't Stop Believin' - Journey
Excited?!
