"Ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one
Ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one
Ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one
Ridin', ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one (oh)
(Got my, got my, got my, got my eyes open)
(Got my, got my, got my eyes open) (oh)
(Got my, got my, got my, got my eyes open)
(Got my eyes open)…"
Tyler The Creator – "Igor's Theme"
Tony put a mark on his back.
Erik spent the rest of the morning orientation in the Stark Industries offices feeling like a target. He wasn't trying to be like Tupac with all eyes on him, but that's what happened after the Big Boss put him on blast.
The interns were divided up into groups of twenty and given a physical tour of the headquarters. He was separated from Giselle and Curtis and herded along with his group to visit the on-site cafeteria first. From jump, he was inundated with questions from the other interns as they walked from tour site to tour site, and he was already mentally drained by the time they broke for lunch. They were not allowed to eat in the cafeteria just yet and were given meal cards that could be used outside of the building where a plethora of restaurants and fast food places were within walking distance in downtown Los Angeles.
On an elevator, a cute Filipino girl with honey-brown skin stuck close to him asking about what he would study at M.I.T.
"Bioacoustics," he said, keeping his eyes on the lights of the elevator floors they were cruising past. Eighty floors. Stark's was the tallest building in Los Angeles, beating out the U.S. Bank Tower by seven floors.
"Interesting," the woman said.
Erik peeped her name tag. Maria Alvarez. Spanish colonized name, Filipino-American roots.
"What's interesting about it?" he threw back out her.
He could feel the ten other interns on the elevator with them eavesdropping on them. All white guys except for three other white women and a Nepalese woman who attended Oxford. He only knew this because she was bragging about it every chance she got when she was near him.
Bitch, no one cares…
Erik's eyes went back down to Maria. Pixie haircut. Heart-shaped face. Eager brown eyes that twinkled. A people pleaser vibe wafted off of her.
"Just interesting. I've never met anyone who studied that before. What made you choose that?"
The elevator doors opened. Thank God.
The interns surged out into a larger sea of interns gathered in the lobby and heading out to have a meal. They were given ninety minutes for lunch. Time to walk, find a spot, eat, socialize, digest, and have time to walk back.
"Erik!"
Giselle was waving at him and he was happy to see her. He felt Maria sticking to his side as he maneuvered through the throng of people to get to a familiar face.
"Hi," Giselle said looking at Maria hovering near him.
"Hi, Maria," she said pointing to her name tag.
"Giselle," Giselle said pointing to hers.
"Can I hang out with you guys? I feel very overwhelmed and don't do well by myself," Maria said clutching her handbag.
"Sure. What are you guys up for? The Stark App listed about twenty spots ten minutes from here," Giselle said.
"Five Guys Burgers—"
"Phở-," Maria said.
"Hold up, how you gonna invite yourself to eat with us?" Erik said glaring at Maria.
"Who said I was eating with you? Maybe I'm going with Maria," Giselle protested.
Maria smirked and Erik stared at Giselle.
"You called me over here," he said feeling perturbed that they were still standing in the thick of the crowd.
"Yeah, to say hi and ask how the tour was for you," Giselle said, "Phở sounds great, Maria."
Maria held up her micro cell.
"Five-minute walk from here," she said.
"Cool. So, would you like to join us, Erik?"
Giselle's lips had a pouty curve to them and Erik found himself staring at them and wondering some things he shouldn't.
"There's a burger place right in the same food court," Maria said holding her cell up to him.
Erik glanced around looking for Curtis or anyone else that may have a taste for red meat. The interns were filing out of the building like rats jumping ship. It was best to make a power move before there were long lines for food.
"Let's go," Erik said stalking past the two women and leading them toward the exits.
Outside, the Los Angeles smog kept the heat hanging down low and Erik was ready to climb out of his suit and hit the hotel pool.
"Did you guys hear what went down earlier?"
Erik was glad to hear Curtis' excited voice swooping down on them as he walked over with a white guy who had jubilant smile on his face when he saw Erik.
Erik and Curtis shared some dap and he gave a head nod to the white guy named Owen from his nametag.
"Five interns got cut already—" Curtis said.
"Cut?" Giselle asked.
"Yeah. They were pulled aside right after we left Stark—"
"I was near them when they were removed," Owen said.
"Hey, this is my roommate Owen," Curtis said, "tell them the rest dude."
Owen's hands went out like he was telling a scary story around a campfire, his sandy-brown hair slicked into stylish professional spikes and tapered around the sides. A Malibu Ken if Erik ever saw one.
"Check this, we were finishing the last of the group divides and none of these guys were placed with anyone. They're standing around looking confused like they missed their names being called or something, but then this huge guy shows up, um, Hogan, that was his name, and he pulls these guys away and takes their intern badges away from them. They are escorted by security out of the room. It was crazy."
"But why were they kicked out? Were they told right there?" Maria asked Owen.
"No. Everyone is pretty nervous about it. What if Mr. Stark is doing a ten little Indians thing—"
"That's racist dude," Erik said.
The tone in his voice made Owen tight-lipped.
"Racist? How is that racist? It's just an expression-" Owen said perplexed.
"And it's still racist. Like Indian-Giver. Spirit Animal-?
"Dude, how is Spirit animal—"
"You not Native, so you don't use it," Erik said stepping closer to Owen to punctuate his point.
"You Native or something?"
"Got Native family, so I don't let shit slide—"
"Please, can we save the PC talk for later. Finish about the guys being kicked out," Maria said, her face pinched like she was scared to lose her place among the interns too.
"That's all we know so far," Curtis said.
"Let's go get some food. Maybe we can find some people who can give us more details," Giselle said. Erik could see the worry on her face too.
They all walked to a stoplight at a one-way street surrounded by the mass of interns chattering away and laughing.
"Damn!" Curtis shouted as a chrome and black Lagonda Vision pulled up in front of them. The driver's side dark tinted window rolled down, the beginning of Al Green's "Love and Happiness" blasting out from inside the vehicle.
Tony Stark glanced over at them, dark shades gleaming.
"Stevens, get in," Tony said.
Erik closed his eyes for a second and once again felt the tension of being singled-out from the group. Curtis nudged Erik to move forward.
"If you don't get in that whip," Curtis whispered to him from between gritted teeth.
Erik made the walk around the front of the car to the passenger side. It felt like it took him twenty years to make it inside the ride because all the eyes that watched him made his stomach churn again. He opened the door and climbed in. Tony barely waited for him to close the door before he had his foot on the gas and the deep rumble of the ultra-luxury car sped them away from the plebeians.
"We're having lunch at Durangos," Tony said, turning down his music.
"Why you put me out like this?" Erik said, annoyed as he watched Tony speed through downtown L.A.
"Put you out?'
"Yeah. How am I supposed to fit in if you keep separating me from the pack? Shits not cool, bruh."
"You speak to adults like that with that potty mouth, kiddo?"
Erik curled his lips and glanced out of the passenger window.
"I singled you out because I needed to let the other interns know that I won't tolerate disrespect or racist behavior—"
"Racist behavior?"
"I had five interns dismissed because of you."
"What did I do?"
Erik's eyes glared at Tony hard. Tony pushed his dark glasses to the top of his head.
"You did nothing but be brilliant. And word got to me from last night that there were some young men making comments about you and some other interns who are not my hue. Calling you all forced diversity quota recruits, a minority pity party to make myself look good. I don't accept that type of bullshit in my world—"
"Language," Erik said giving Tony a sly look.
Tony glanced over at him as they idled at a red light.
"I put your picture and your stats out there to let any other privileged asshats know that you set the standard. That way any other little punk with that hate in their heart would know that they need to get their act together and that they are not the only talent out there. Capiche?"
"I hear ya," Erik said focusing his eyes back toward the windshield.
"You have your big boy pants on. You can handle the scrutiny."
"But why not let me have lunch with everyone else?"
"Because you're not like everyone else and they need to know that. Chill. I know what I'm doing."
"I hope so. Will you replace the guys you dumped?"
"Maybe. But it's good to let the others stew. Tighten up the ship a bit. It forces people to reevaluate how they arrived here."
"Are you going to tell the others why?"
"They'll figure it out. The grapevine is on fire as we speak."
"Good looking out then."
"I have a reputation too, not always the best in the public, but the last thing anyone can accuse me of is being a racist or grooming them. I can be an asshole, but I'm an asshole to everyone from every walk of life."
Tony zipped the car into a valet carport.
"You like lobster?" Tony asked.
"Who doesn't?"
"People with allergies to shellfish. Keep up Stevens, what's wrong with you?" Tony said winking.
Erik stepped out of the car.
"Welcome back Mr. Stark," a thin Black valet said taking Tony's keys.
"Hello, Marlon. This is Erik. Get used to seeing his face."
"Yes, Sir," Marlon said jumping into Tony's car and whipping it away down the street.
"Yeah, I need to talk to him about that speeding," Tony said watching his car disappear.
Erik followed Tony into Durangos and the hostess at the door lead Tony right away to a private seat in the back.
Tony immediately reached for the wine and spirits menu.
"You drink?" he asked Erik.
"I'm nineteen."
"I didn't ask for your age, I asked if you drank."
"I could go for some Henny," Erik said reaching for the other drink menu.
Tony slapped his hand.
"What's wrong with you? You're underaged young man. Shameful!"
"You got jokes," Erik said leaving the drink menu alone.
"I'll get you a Shirley Temple. More your speed—"
"Tony!"
"And here we go…" Tony said slipping his drink menu in front of Erik's place setting.
A severe-looking slender blonde with sharp features and a nasal-sounding voice stomped over to Tony's table.
"You are so predictable," the woman said as a scowl spread on her face.
"Hey Pepper. Have you met Erik? Erik this is my assistant, Pepper Potts."
Erik allowed his eyes to flick back and forth between them.
"W'sup Pepper?" Erik said.