Chapter 2: A Buena Vista
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"Yo quiero que me lleven a Buena Vista"
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POV: Peter Parker
"Is that really how I look in this suit?"
What..?
I shake out of my frozen stupor at Mr. Stark's comment. Voices echo off the walls around us. There's a sort of harmony about it that fades off into white noise.
"I mean, I've seen pictures before, but remind me to bulk down on the shoulder padding, geez." He continues, unabashed.
Both of us gaze up at the giant movie poster with our faces plastered on it. Our solitary stances are quite a contrast to the busy hustle of people moving across painted crosswalks, wheeling camera equipment around, and doing makeup touch ups on actors.
"Nope, f-ing wizard poofed us into some bizzaro Earth. This isn't real." Mr. Stark finishes his train of thought while crossing his arms.
Before I can respond, a deep familiar voice says from behind us.
"Heh heh, yeah this is pretty real buddy. Unless your contract expired and you didn't tell us." I turn, and my jaw drops.
A man with dark curly hair in a torn suit jacket stands casually unscrewing the lid from a clear water bottle. He looks like a passer by at a zoo, stopping only to glance at caged animals. A short pause pans out while the man gulps down water and Mr. Stark turns to see the newcomer.
"Bruce?" He gapes, eyebrows shooting up.
None other than Bruce Banner in the flesh stands before me. BRUCE FREAKING BANNER! My eyes are probably bugging out of my face as I watch him finish the water and run a hand over his mouth."Yeah, hey Tony." He Mr. Stark's name with a pointed look at him. Returning the cap to the mouth of his bottle, he tosses the whole thing with ease into a nearby trash can.
If I weren't so star-struck at seeing the science legend I would tell him he should recycle that.
"Strange got you too?" Mr. Stark says, reaching out to Bruce. "Actually, that's a relief. He's not as dim as I originally pegged him to be if he grabbed you on our way through."
"Yeah I never was much of a big fan of that guy…" Bruce trails off. Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles and lets out a small chuckle. "Of course, he'll probably be fine. Little sucker just got a little knock in the head right? I heard them talking on the way out."
"That's what FRIDAY said. Concussion." Mr. Stark says, retracting his hand and using it to stroke his goatee.
Dr. Banner cocks his head at Mr. Stark. "Oh FRIDAY said that did she?"
"Well it sure wasn't do I look like, Greg House? Listen, I'm glad you're here. Like actually really glad, but we need to make a plan." He points a flattened hand at Bruce. "Our local wizard is the only one who can get us back to where we were as far as I know. Did you hear where they took him?"
"No, but my guess is Piedmont Fayette. That's where they usually go. Hey, since when did you care so much about him?"
"About Strange? I don't. He's just our ticket out of all this movie crap."
Dr. Banner doesn't answer at first. His eyebrows furrow, and he regards us with skepticism.
"Movie crap..? I don't follow…." he shakes his head from side to side.
There's an awkward pause. I can see the gears turning in Mr. Stark's head. He shifts his position away from Bruce, making a realization.
"Oh hell. You're not Bruce, are you? You're an actor." He rolls his eyes higher than the ceiling and turns to me, not waiting for an answer. "Oh my god. He's an actor kid. I can't believe this. What a waste of time." Grabbing my shoulder, Mr. Stark pushes me away from the guy who looks just like Bruce Banner. "I'm gonna kill that wizard." He mutters low enough that only I can hear.
"Is this a joke? Are you trying to prank me? Well real funny Downy! I'll be sure to tell the guys about this one!" Not Banner yells between laughs after us. I whip my head back to watch him even as Mr. Stark propels me in the opposite direction.
What's going on?
When we're a considerable distance from the earshot of Not Banner, Mr. Stark turns me so my attention is directed towards him. His face tightens and his eyes glance around before fixing on mine.
"Okay kid, we're not in Kansas anymore."
"I think that movie is before my time Mr. Stark." I protest.
"Doesn't matter," He waves a dismissive hand. "This place we're walking around in right now? It isn't real. Strange popped us into some vudu reality."
"Wait, this isn't real? Did we die and go to heaven or something?"
"No, at least I don't think so. I don't know all the rules of whatever it is that Strange does for a living, but that orange portal we went through? It can travel across space." He makes a circle with one hand and pokes a finger from his other hand through it. "I went through one in New York right before the space invaders showed up."
"Where are you going with this..?"
"What I'm saying is that, if it's possible for Strange to send us through space, maybe it's possible for him to send us through space enough that it manipulates our reality."
"So this is real? Are you saying we traveled to another reality? Is that even possible?" My eyes widen in shock.
"Wouldn't be the first time I've done something impossible." He muses, bringing his arms to a small shrug.
"We need to stay close and find where they took Strange. As much as I hate to admit it, he'll have more answers—"
"Tom, Robert! There you are!" A powerful voice booms next to me, making me jump.
The man with glasses from the set appears on my side. He's smiling, but it's a tight smile that reads more like "I'm only talking to you because I have to."
He wraps his hands around his chest as his powerful voice carries toward us again. .
"How are my boys doing today?" He sounds like a concerned grandpa but looks about middle age with his thick dark hair and way more fashionable attire . So maybe like, a young cool grandpa I guess?
"Doing great. Can we help you?" Mr. Stark replies with barely more than a glance at the man.
"Whoa, hey I'm not trying to pick a fight today. Just checking up on ya."
Mr. Stark gives him his full attention now. "And I said we're fine. Do you mind? Kind of in the middle of something." He says gesturing towards me.
The man gives out a laugh. "Yeah okay, when you two are finished up we can finish shooting our movie? Is that how this is going to be?"
"Yes, because I couldn't care less about your movie right now. There are bigger things at play, okay? Kid let's get out of here."
He reaches over and grabs my arm again, presumably to lead me somewhere else, when—
YANK!
Another powerful grip grabs my other arm and pulls me back towards the fake New York street. The awkward momentary battle of two forces causes me to stumble and drop the water bottle I had been holding up to this point.
As the water gushes out on the floor, I can't help but relate to it. Our situation is spiraling out of control just as fast as it.
A female voice attached to the hand invading my personal bubble says "Not so fast Tom! We've got to fix your makeup for the next scene!" The same lady who handed me the water bottle earlier kicks it out of her way as she rips me away from Mr. Stark's reassuring hold. Even though I didn't want it, I get a better look at her now. She looks about the same age as Aunt May, with dark blue eyes and short brown hair. Her dark shirt and pants, although plain, offered her a sharp contrast to her pale skin and boasted more sleekness and style than any outfit I've ever worn. Like, maybe ever.
In all, she's terrifying.
The hold she has on my arm is so firm it begins to cut off circulation in my hand.
"I uh-what?" Even as I'm whisked away from him, I look back to Mr. Stark for help. My heart rate increases when I don't see him behind me. He and the other man have disappeared into the crowds around the set.
Crap!
We're in unfamiliar territory and we've been separated!
The lady leads me around fake brick buildings and we exit the street setting. I note as we round the corner that the backs of the buildings are flat plywood instead of being real structures. It leaves my stomach unsettled.
I try to pull my arm out of the lady's grip, but I'm distracted when-
SMACK!
Someone slaps me square on the butt!
"Heyyyyyyy Tom! Nice stunts back there!" A young male voice drags after us. The hot sting on my butt cheek is nothing to the rush of embarrassment flooding my facial cheeks.
"Who the hell is Tom?" I whisper more to myself than to anyone listening. No one answers.
People flow through the packed studio walkways like mid-day traffic. Some carry props, others are running and shouting, and some are carrying food trays. The aromas from the food trays and fresh paint mix together, seeping through my mask like I just walked into an all you can eat buffet in art class. A sea of wires and cords stretch on across the floor and walls.
Everything wizzes past my poor overloaded brain like a bath faucet filling a thimble.
This can't be real...
A few people address the lady dragging me around as Rachel.
I guess that's her name? I think. I still don't know where she's taking me. For all I know this could be just an elaborate scheme and she could be leading me right to my death!
Freaking Rachel!
But she continues on, past a giant bright green wall and crowded corners full of set pieces and props until we finally arrive at a small room off to the side of the set.
"Okay here we are!" She announces, shoving me into the room.
I immediately want to gag. I've always liked the smell of hair gel, but the room reeks of the clear gooey stuff amplified by 1000! It's disgusting. Other than that, the room is a picture of what I've been told every teenage girl dreams of: gleaming white counters, spinning leather chairs, and enough mirrors to make anyone vain. There's makeup supplies and wigs sprawled all over the counters reminding me of when my school put on a play last year and turned the band hall into a temporary dressing room.
"Sit." Rachel commands, gesturing to a chair. Maybe it's because she reminds me of Aunt May, or maybe it's because I'm afraid of what she may do to me if I don't obey her, but I hop right over to a chair and plant myself down in it. She grabs the chair and spins it around to face the mirror, away from her.
There's a woosh of air and my mask is pulled off. I let out a panicked, high pitched squeak and try to grab it back. "Hey lady, you can't go taking stuff that's not yours!" She jerks her arm away from mine.
"I can actually. Now are you going to quit acting and let me?" She smiles, but I see flames of irritation spark behind her eyes. She sets the mask down out of my reach.
"Y-yes ma'am!" Although nothing is physically keeping me from leaving, I am a prisoner. Confined to this chair. Set to endure some kind of upcoming torture.
My eyes are trained on Rachel as she pulls a black bag off the counter and rummages through it. Her expression is neutral until she finds her target and brings out a small brush, brandishing it in front of my eyes.
"Ah ha! Alright, we'll be quick because I think Joe wants everyone back soon." Her eyes move over my face, taking in every millimeter of it. Although I'm fully clothed in my Spider-suit, I've never felt so exposed in my life.
"Okay, can you look over here for me hun?" Rachel gestures with her thumb to the side. I comply more by reflex than anything.
Too late I realize how vulnerable it left me.
An onslaught of bristles and powder bombards my sensitive facial skin. There's suddenly a cloud of powder around me and I'm choking on it. I jerk back, my eyes watering.
"What-wh-hey, what are you doing?!" I splutter.
Rachel stops to look at me. I must appear ridiculous, fighting back coughs and looking like I'm about to cry or be sick.
"Fixing your makeup?" She says sounding like she's trying to decide if she should slap me or laugh at me.
A nervous laugh escapes my sore throat. It sounds like a broken machine, pathetically clinging onto life. Like I'm an injured puppy about to go to the vet.
I hate it.
"I wasn't wearing any makeup though!" My voice comes out far higher and raspier than I wish it would.
"Tell me about it. That stupid mask rubs it all off every time. That's why we're fixing it." The half satisfied smile on the makeup artist's face makes me feel like I just missed something obvious.
She moves to attack me again and my body tenses up.
Here we go again…
I've been in plenty of uncomfortable situations before, but this sets an all new record of squirm-in-your-seat-I-can't-stand-this unpleasant. I squeeze my eyes shut tight in a feeble attempt to protect myself. It feels like hours, but I know it can't be more than a few minutes that pass. The The only thing that breaks the tirade of poking and chalky powder is when Rachel switches to a new brush or when people pass through and she pauses to talk to them.
After Rachel changes her brush for what seems like the 15th time, I've had enough. I need to go find Mr. Stark.
So I awkwardly clear my throat and crack my eyes open to meet hers.
"I...uh...need to go make a phone call!" I squeak out. It was the only excuse I could think of. My phone of course is in my backpack, safely webbed to the side of an alley in New York where hopefully no one will find it, but Rachel doesn't need to know that.
"Right now?" Rachel huffs.
"Er-yeah. It's really important."
"Well considering you left your phone on your chair, like you always do, you're going to have to grab it when we're finished." Rachel says as she turns to rummage through her bag again.
"Um...I actually need to go get it...right now. It could be life or death." I manage to tighten my lips into a half smile for her.
She looks at me like I'm crazy...which, judging from how today has been, might not be far from the truth. "You're being weird today kid, not gonna lie. Five more minutes, I'll hurry."
I'm not waiting through five more minutes.
Before my bravado leaves me, I leap up from the chair and grab my mask from the counter, knocking over containers sending plumes of makeup powder in the air. It spills all over Rachel and the counter, but I don't wait to see it settle. I'm dashing out of the room like a madman, relieved when my nostrils are alleviated of the potent stench. I risk a glance back at Rachel's shocked gasp...
...and run face first into something solid.
"Ahh!" I fall back more in surprise than pain. The ground smacks hard into my butt.
I rub at where my face made impact and I blink away surprise. Squinting up against the bright studio lights, I make out two bulky silhouettes and a large pole.
"Hey watch it!" one of the silhouettes shouts down at me.
I bring my hand up to block out the light and meet his eyes with an awkward pause.
The door to the makeup room burst open behind us in an instant. Rachel comes storming out, her face twisting in fury.
"WHAT THE HELL KID? Get your skinny ass back here!" She snarls.
My ass is definitely NOT going back there.
"Uh, She sounds mad. I gotta go!" I jump to my feet and give a two fingered salute to the crew members. Aiming at a rafter above, I slam down the button on my web shooter.
*FIZZ* *POP*
No webs come out.
Oh shit! Of all the times for a malfunction!
Not wasting a second, I dash away from Rachel's angry shouting. I hear the other crew member laugh at me as I book it back through the studio.
Since I have literally no idea where Mr. Stark is, I go to the only logical place I can think of.
Back to New Fake York. Or Fake York? Fake New York?
Wow, none of those names are very catchy...
I can't tell if Rachel will follow me all the way there, but I don't really want to chance it.
I dodge around more crew members as I approach the indoor street. No one gives me a second look as I pass.
The street looks exactly like I left it not long ago. It's surreal how realistic it is. Trash crunches under my feet as I walk down the cement walkways. Cars are parked along curbs lined with plants. I can't tell if they're real and or just props. The air even smells a little like the Hudson, full of chemicals and oil. Not many people remain here, only one or two cleaning the ground where we first appeared.
Not wanting too much attention, I duck into the closest doorway I find.
My mask is warm and comfortable as I slide it over my pasty, sweat covered skin. The familiarity of it comforts my racing heart. I didn't realize how freaked out this place made me until now. I haven't really had a chance to breathe since I left Ned and the rest of my class on the bus.
"Karen?" I pant at my AI, "Will you call Mr. Stark, or track his location for me?"
Back pressed against the wood of the doorway, I feel the slow flow of air in and out of my chest as each breath passes.
One.
Two.
Three.
No answer from Karen.
"Karen?" I try again.
No lights, no screen monitors, no friendly neighborhood AI voice, no Karen.
"Oh this is just great! Webs aren't working and neither is Karen." I hiss to myself, banging the back of my head against the wood in dismay.
"Please don't freak out Parker, please don't freak out Parker." I repeat in mantra to myself.
I'm freaking out.
Ummmmm….what would Mr. Stark do?
Oh, The phone!
Hadn't I just told Rachel I was going to go get my phone? That must mean whatever version of me exists in this place has a phone. I just gotta find it!
I memorized Mr. Stark's number forever ago, just in case. I form a plan and recite it back to myself.
Step one, go get the phone that belongs to me in this universe.
Step two, call Mr. Stark. He said FRIDAY wasn't working, but unlike myself, he probably didn't leave his phone back in an alley in New York so he should still have it on him right?
Step three, meet up and get out of here.
"Good plan." I say in a pleased whisper.
I exit the doorway and return to the streets of New Fake York.
Rachel said I left a phone by my chair, right? I scan the street and nearby for chairs. Don't movies always have those fancy directors chairs for the actors right by the set? I have literally no idea, and for all I know this set could be different!
But to my relief I see a line of wooden studio chairs with gold lettering marking them in front of a fruit stand.
Yes!
My legs skip a little on my way to the them.
Each name is scrawled onto the chair in fancy gold lettering.
Bruce Banner
Wong
Stephen Strange
Tony Stark
Peter Parker
HOLY FREAK I HAVE A CHAIR!
Feeling like a kid sneaking into the kitchen to steal cookies, I inch towards my chair until I'm right beside it. There is indeed a sleek black iPhone innocently sitting on the seat along with about four empty plastic water bottles.
I pick it up and the screen lights up. There's a picture of jupiter surrounded by empty space. It's a newer model, one without a home button.
I cross my fingers and lift it to my face.
FACE I.D. REQUIRED.
It's locked.
My heart deflates.
So much for that plan.
With a huff, I flop into my studio chair.
Tears prick at my eyes as I glance around the set. I don't know what I'm looking for, a familiar face? A glimmer of hope? My hands twidle with the phone in my hand. I'm at a loss for what to do aside from running back through the studio calling out Mr. Stark's name.
The screen lights up in my hand again at an incoming text. The contacts name is Harrison with an emoji next to the name. I try to swipe the text open in hopes that somehow this will magically grant me access to the phone.
Nope.
I sigh and swipe the screen to the other way out of curiosity.
A variety of widgets pop onto the screen, showing an array of information. One shows the time, another the daily forecast for Atalanta, Georgia-WHAT?
As if I've been burned by it, I drop the phone to my lap, staring in disbelief at the screen.
"We're in GEORGIA?" I whisper in horror. I've only ever left the state of New York a handful of times for field trips and small vacations (and that one time in Germany). I've never dreamed of visiting Georgia! Heck, I probably couldn't even point to on a map if you asked me to! How in the holy heck were we supposed to get back to New York?
A loudspeaker interrupts my thoughts.
"Everyone to the sound deck please! Everyone, right now!"
My eyes follow the cleaning crew members as they glance up at the voice. They pack up their supplies and shuffle down the street. I lose sight of them as they round a corner.
Forgetting about the fact we're in Georgia, I reason that if everyone is gathering at the sound deck, there's a good chance I'll find Mr. Stark there.
With some small amount of energy, I spring up from my chair, phone clutched in my hand, and follow the crew members off set.
Hanging a good few yards back from the workers as we approach a larger group of people, I try to blend in to the background. I notice the familiar faces of not Bruce Banner and Rachel across the sea of faces as everyone gathers around a bunch of sound equipment. Rachel's eyes are scanning over the group like a hawk, probably looking for me I realize. Her eyes abruptly sear over to where I am, and in a panic, I duck behind a large looking dude wearing a black t-shirt with a big red logo on it.
Yikes!
There's some screens propped up on tables to my left so I side my way over to them in a desperate attempt to hide, despite the fact that I'm literally wearing bright red and blue spandex. I peer around the screens to check if anyone saw me. No one seemed to notice the disturbance.
Keeping my eyes hovering on the scene around me, I see cool grandpa dude who interrupted Mr. Stark and I before pushing through the crowd to the center of the gathering. Remembering how he had been yelling orders and directing everything on set, I reason he's probably the director.
He calls out to the crowd after clamoring up to the top of a table. "Everyone! We've had a great day of shooting, lots of good video. Light crew, you were fantastic! Props department, I loved the fire effects! Those will look amazing on the big screen."
"Now, not to discourage any of you, but we had a slight accident today. No one is sure what happened, but Benedict hit his head on something and is on the way to the hospital now. We don't know what his condition is yet or what will happen. That being said, we will continue to shoot our regularly scheduled pages each day, excluding only the shots that Benedict is in. We will use stand-ins where we can like Aaron, who has kindly informed us that he will shoot as much as he can as Dr. Strange.
"This brings us back to a topic we've been talking about a lot lately. I don't mean to beat a dead horse, but safety on set is crucial. Today showed that for sure." The dark haired man continues talking about safety procedures on set but I zone out. My eyes take in the faces nearby again.
Then they see the most relieving sight today; a glowing arc reactor and worried brown eyes. Those eyes meet mine, and Mr. Stark moves over to me, pushing people out of the way in the process.
"Kid!" He stops just shy of me. There's an awkward hesitancy, because where others may have stepped in for a hug we just look at each other unsure. He ends it by bringing his hand up, and after another hesitant millisecond, places it on my shoulder.
"You good?" He asks at last, giving me a once over.
My head bobs up and down. "Yeah I'm good! Where did you go?!"
"Just got caught up in the crowd with that guy in the glasses. Turns out his name is Anthony too. Anyways, we've got to get out of this building." He jabs his free thumb behind him towards a glowing exit sign. "I can't think in here. Follow me."
He turns towards the exit sign right as the director finishes up his speech.
"We good everyone?" The director, or Anthony as Mr. Stark just informed me, says with a thumbs up towards the many faces watching him. Some respond with woops and others just applaud. "Alright then, we're out to lunch."
The effect is instantaneous. The crow disperses around us leaving only a few stragglers gathered around some screens. Our exit out the door is completely unnoticed.
I take a deep breath as soon as we're outside, but my lungs construct against the thick wetness of the air. It's an oven outside! I almost choke against what feels like 300 degree temperatures. The chalky makeup on my skin becomes slimy. Sweat forms on my back and the suit I love so much is suddenly incredibly uncomfortable.
"Oh my God, did he send us to the jungle?" Mr. Stark pants in the heat.
We've exited onto the top of a flight of stairs descending to a small back alley. The building we just exited is cast in a light brown brick color, matching a building right across from it. There's not a cloud in the blue sky, framed by the twilight setting of the sun.
"Kid, is your AI working?" Mr. Stark inquires.
"No, it's not!" I gasp against the heat. "I tried to call you and Karen didn't answer! My webs weren't firing and I thought it was just a coincidence. Do you think the portal knocked out our tech too?
"I don't know yet, I'm trying to figure it out." Mr. Stark says. "FRIDAY started glitching out when I was talking to hot shot Anthony. She's completely offline now." He fiddles with a control on his forearm. After a minute he claps his hand down on it in frustration.
A thought comes back to me all at once.
Oh yeah…..
I swallow. "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Just found out we're in...uh...Georgia..?"
Mr. Stark's eyes lock onto mine.
"Excuse me?"
"See?" I hold the phone up to his face, swiping until it displays the weather again.
He squints his eyes at the dim screen, eyes scanning back and forth for a minute. Then he claps his hands together and blows out a breath of air as he straightens back up.
"Well today just keeps getting better and better."
…..
AN:
Howdy all!
Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter. I was all finished up with it when I spotted a HUGE error! Took a few days to fix, but it's all better now XD It's the middle of the semester and...well there's a lot going on...tests, homework, clubs, the usual. I try to write every chance I get tho!
Also, double apology today because due to the way FF is set up each chapter is offset by one because of the prologue...idk if it bothers you but it's kinda annoying to my OCD O.O
Wow! Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Also much thanks to those who favorited and followed as well :) You guys are the LITERAL BEST! 3
Next chapter will be from Tony's point of view so we'll get a peek at how he's handling all the crazy :)
~Gamma
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Review replies:
Grammarosprey:
Thanks friend! Hope you like where the story continues to go!
I.D.'s Fantasy:
Dude you're the best! Thanks so much! Yeah I've seen things like that before too, but I honestly just died at the thought of Peter and Tony deal with their real life fans so naturally it had to happen! XD XD
gaming-is-served:
OMG THANK YOU! More is on the way! :D
3SadSilmarils:
Aww dude thank you so much! I really appreciate the feedback you've been giving! Definitely helps me to keep writing and I love that you're loving it! :) Thanks for all your help!
