To all of you who read this story:

I know I said that I would post sooner, but as cliché as it sounds; I've been busy with school because it was the final week and the teachers thought it would be nice to give us a shitload of work. It wasn't until Thursday that I was finally free. And I would have updated sooner but, how to put it? I wasn't really motivated to do it. As needy as it sounds, the lack of reviews was a major get down. I just want some kind of proof that people are reading this thing. Not that I don't appreciate the people who already put the story to their favorites list and all, but.. you know: Writer's needs.

Disclaimer: All Iron Man characters belong to Marvel and the producers of the movie.

Chapter 3

There's a ringing in the distance, I think is my phone. Fucking phone.

Wait!

My phone doesn't ring. It plays that Gorillaz with the zombie apes.

I sit up in my hotel bed and look around. Where is that freaking phone?

Oh! There it is! In the table that's on the opposite side of the room, because there's nothing else I want in the world that get up after a long day of work.

"Hello?" I ask in the groggiest voice in the world.

"Miss Townsend, this is the reception speaking in regards of the alarm call you requested to be at six o'clock"

"Oh right, thanks" I forgot about that.

"Your welcome" And they hung up, what, no goodbye?

I've been sleeping for three hours? I need more.

Resuming: I step out of the plane at ten, sleep eight hours that still weren't enough, woke up at six and got ready for a conference I didn't even enter. Then I spend four hours in a photo shoot where the assistant was trying to take my job, and sleep three hours that still weren't enough. Jet lag is such a bitch. And now I have to be at this party because for some twisted reason they thought I should be invited.

What am I going to wear?

I better call reception and see if they can bring me some dresses from the local shops.

"Reception" A guy's voice answered.

"Yes, could you bring some formal dresses to suite 182?" Please say yes, please say yes.

"Of course, what size?"

"Dude, you never ask a girl what size she is" That's like a cosmic rule or something. "But if you must know, it is size 2" God, this is so embarrassing.

"Alright, the dresses will be there in half an hour"

"Thanks" And I hung up before he did. Suck it up reception, suck it up.

While I'm waiting, might as well do my hair. How should I fix it?

After spending ten minutes looking at myself in the mirror, I decided to make a half do. I tried to tame my bangs but they just wouldn't budge. Why bangs? Why?

I need sleep.

And now that I think of it, I need food. And a cigarette. So I grab an apple and control my craving for nicotine.

The dresses are finally here, and they're pretty, but not quite my style, there's this gold one that looks like it needs a lot of filling, if you know what I mean. And as much as I like black, I think I need a change.

So that just leaves me with this long white dress. It's sleeveless, with these sparkles in the straps and in the upper outlines. And the design in the back is pretty cool too.

Three hours later, or two, I don't know anymore, this dress doesn't look good with a watch. Anyway, I'm at the event, looking like I care, and searching for someone to talk to. Or even better, the open bar.

"So you decided to come" Someone says to my right.

"Oh, hi Justin" Justin Hammer, one of my dad's friends. For me he's like an acquaintance that I can tolerate.

"So how many people did it take to convince you to come?"

"Well, counting you, my father, my smart friends, my not so smart friends… well, six persons I guess"

"Your will power is crumbling" I grimaced. "But look at it this way, you can see what you're missing" I look around

"Is not much. If you'll excuse me, I have to mingle" And I walked away looking for the open bar. 'Darla Townsend and The Lost Open Bar' on theaters November 16th.

Gotcha!

"Can I have a rum and coke please?" I ask as soon as I reach it.

"Sure" Says the bartender. After this I mingle, I just need a little push.

"Thanks" I said when the bartender hands me the drink.

I have spoken with ten different people and I haven't finish my drink, I'm quite proud of myself.

"Hello guy in a suit" I said when I reached a guy in a suit that looks like a military uniform, maybe because it is.

"Hello, I'm James Rhodes"

"You're with the air force, right?" Oh yeah, I get around, I know stuff.

"Yes, I'm afraid I don't know your name" He says with a 'She-seems-familiar-but-I-don't-have-a-clue-who-she-is' face.

"Darla Townsend, my father is a senator…"

"Right, Senator Townsend. You look a lot like him"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment" Although I'm not sure how the hell do I look like my father, maybe the hair color and the eyes, but that's it, and at the same time a lot. Damn it.

"Please do"

"You don't look like a James" And he doesn't.

"What?" He says caught off guard.

"Yeah, we're not going to talk about serious stuff, that's boring. So, don't you have like a nickname or something?"

"Do you?" He's avoiding the question.

"No, my name is to short" Why don't I have a nickname? I want one.

"Well, my best friend calls me-"But he's interrupted.

"Rhodey!" Someone says, coming towards us.

Link to Darla's dress and hairstyle on my profile.