REBEL OF THE BALL
CHAPTER SIX
"Tony Stark."
"Visionary. Genius. American patriot."
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the screen, where the face of Tony Stark was plastered all over it. Black-and-white photographs of his past and colourful, glossy covers of his present day kept showing, shifting from one memorable moment to another.
"Even from an early age, the son of legendary weapons developer Howard Stark quickly stole the spotlight with his brilliant and unique mind. At age four, he built his first circuit board. At age six, his first engine. And at age seventeen, he graduated summa cum laude from MIT." The voice on the video suddenly faltered. "Then, the passing of a titan. Howard Stark's lifelong friend and ally, Obadiah Stane, steps in to help fill the gap left by the legendary founder."
"Until, at age 21, the prodigal son returns and is anointed the new CEO of Stark Industries. With the keys to the kingdom, Tony ushers in a new era for his father's legacy — creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, satellite targeting. Today, Tony Stark has changed the face of the weapons industry by ensuring freedom and protecting America and her interests around the globe."
The crowd burst into applause as the video had finished.
An olive-skinned man dressed in his formal military uniform, smiled unto the audience. Col. James Rhodes was happy to see them all entertained. And he had to admit, he could see the excitement in their eyes because they knew the great Tony Stark was here — and he can give out a speech or something.
"As a liason to Stark Industries," He began to say while he stood there, into the podium. "I've had the unique privilege of serving with a real patriot. He is my friend, and he is my great mentor."
Rhodes gave them all a nod and continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present this year's Apogee Award to Mr. Tony Stark."
Music blasted from the speakers and the crowd once again burst into another round of applause, some craning their necks just to catch a glimpse of the so-called 'patriot'.
Rhodes again couldn't help but clap himself, feeling a little swell of pride for his friend. A half in awe and half in somewhat a joking way, for he knew how 'grateful' Tony would be.
"Tony?" Rhodes called again, scanning the area for Stark.
He met Obadiah Stane's eyes and his face fell instantly as the balding man shook his head. The colonel couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Another award. Another trophy. Yet another disappointment from Tony. Well, he was who he was — what did he expect?
Rhodes forced himself to continue smiling as he watched Stane, in Tony's stead, walked towards the podium.
"Thank you, Colonel." He said as Rhodes handed him the award.
"Thanks for the save." Rhodes muttered and gave the man an exasperated look.
"This is beautiful." Stane said, his voice echoing through the microphone. "Thank you. Thank you all very much. This is wonderful." He paused as he admired the glassy trophy. "Well, I'm not Tony Stark."
The crowd chuckled merrily and Obadiah was pleased to see them in a good mood even in Tony's absence.
He smiled. "But, if I were Tony, I would tell you how honoured I feel and what a joy it is to receive this very prestigious award." He then shook his head, grinning ruefully. "The best thing about Tony is also the worst thing. He is always working."
"Whoop!" Tony exclaimed as he threw the dice unto the carpeted deck, earning a few laughs from his onlookers standing by. "Work it! Come on."
And who did know? Boom. He won. Again.
The crowd from behind him cheered — including the two pretty girls standing right at his side. He flashed a knowing grin at Happy, his personal driver, who was shaking his head in disbelief. Even he, though already worked for Tony for so long, still couldn't believe how much he always wins at games — even in gambling.
One woman grabbed his shoulder and began stroking his chest, pulling Tony's attention back at her. He gazed at the lady admiringly — golden skin, red lips — who wouldn't want her?
"We should just stay 'till morning." Tony said huskily, already working on his charms as she purred.
But then, even already in paradise, a looming presence and a strong voice interrupted the moment.
"You are unbelievable."
Tony's head snapped to his right to see Rhodes, wearing a scowl on his face.
He mocked looking devastated. "Oh no! Did they rope you into this?"
"Nobody roped me into anything —"
"I'm so sorry."
"What they told me was that if I presented you with an award, you'd be deeply honored." Rhodes said sarcastically, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
Oops. If only Tony knew he'd be this pissed.
"Of course I'd be deeply honored." Tony replied quickly, grinning. "And it's you, that's great." He turned away, catching the attention of the person in-charge of whatever game he was playing. "So when do we do it?" and added "One more round! One more round!"
"It's right here." He heard his friend say and handed him something flashy and very distinguished-looking trophy. "Here you go."
Tony couldn't help but act surprised. He knew the program just ended. And it was a good thing it did.
"There it is. That was easy." He looked up to Rhodes, trying to feel like he really felt bad missing it but didn't know if it fully showed on his face. "I'm so sorry."
Rhodes nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that's okay."
"Wow! Would you look at that? That's uh…something else." Tony said absentmindedly, handing it to someone to get his hands free. "I don't have any of those floating around."
He bent down and gathered up the remains of his chips, forgetting that James Rhodes was there. "We're gonna let it ride!"
He fisted the pair of dice and motioned to the pretty woman. "Give me a hand will you? Give me a little something-something." The woman, in return, blew rather seductively on his hand.
Much to Rhodes' surprise, Tony's fist went infront of him. "Okay, you too."
"I don't blow on a man's dice." He said, looking scandalized.
"Come on, honey bear."
"I don't blow on a man's dice." Rhodes repeated firmly and slapped his hand away, leaving the dice to roll off on its own unto the table.
"There it is. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes rolls! And —"
"Two craps. Line away." The attendant announced.
Tony looked at the colonel accusingly and he just shrugged. Okay, he's a man that could definitely kill one's version of fun.
"That's what happens." He said simply, shrugging again.
Tony smiled tightly. "Worse things have happened. I think we're gonna be fine. Color me up, will you?"
He began walking away, a tow of bodyguards following his suit. Rhodes, of course, the ever best man, was just beside him.
"This is where I exit." Rhodes announced as soon as they reached the casino's doors.
"All right."
"Tomorrow, don't be late." He reminded him.
"Yeah, you can count on it." Though Tony was quite sure he'd forget that as soon as he arrive home.
"I'm serious!"
"I know. I know."
And Rhodes left, leaving Tony marching across the lobby towards his car.
"Render unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's." Tony quoted loudly and handed the guy dressing up as a famous heroine his Apogee trophy. "There you go."
He was still being followed by flashes of cameras. Tony waved at them and grinned. At the back of his mind, he wondered where those pictures would go. The news report? TV shows? Gossip blogs? Newspapers? Who cares.
At the sight of his sleek car, he couldn't help but let out a sigh. After that wonderful moment, everything's finished and he's bound to go home — perhaps sleep and do anything he wanted to do.
Oh hell. Tony suddenly remembered he wasn't alone in that house anymore. A tiny little thing named Urania Stark was waiting for him. Right.
"Mr. Stark!" A voice rang out, making him stop in his tracks. "Excuse me, Mr. Stark!"
Two of his guards barricaded themselves, creating a boundary between them.
"Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair magazine." She introduced, giving her a smile and waving a little. "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"
"She's cute." Happy muttered.
"She's all right." Tony said at the corner of his mouth and turned, smiling. "Hi."
This 'Christine' was a pretty blonde young woman wearing a professional-looking suit. She's got a nice body, if Tony was asked.
"Hi." Christine replied, smiling.
"Yeah. Okay — go."
"It's okay?"
She didn't need anything and quickly began asking questions, a recorder in her hand.
"You've been called the da Vinci of our time," She said. "What do you say to that?"
Damn, Tony thought. This woman is quite far from all right. She gets straight to the point with no bullshit. That's nice.
"Absolutely ridiculous." Tony found himself saying. "I don't paint."
He could see he made progress. Quite so, Tony had noticed a faint smile tugging the corners of her lips.
"And what do you say to your other nickname — 'The Merchant of Death'?"
He nodded thoughtfully. "That's not bad." And after a while, he said "Let me guess. Berkeley?"
"Brown, actually."
"Well, Ms. Brown, it's an imperfect world, but it's the only one we've got. I guarantee you, the day weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace I'll start making bricks and beams for baby hospitals."
She raised an eyebrow. "Rehearsed that much?"
"Every night in front of the mirror before bedtime."
"I can see that."
"I'd like to show you first-hand."
Christine shook her head, apparently looking a little annoyed now. "All I want is a serious answer."
Tony looked at her for a moment then set his attention elsewhere. "Okay, here's serious. My old man had a philosophy: 'peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy'."
"That's a great line coming from the guy selling the sticks."
"My father helped defeat the Nazis. He worked on the Manhattan Project. A lot of people, including your professors at Brown, would call that being a hero."
She nodded, understanding his words. "And a lot of people would also call that war profiteering."
"Tell me," He took off his glasses and looked at her straight in the eye. "Do you plan to report on the millions we've saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops? All those breakthroughs, military funding, honey."
Christine stopped for a moment. It actually took her a few seconds before registering what he had said.
"You ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?" She asked suddenly.
He tossed his head back casually. "I'd be prepared to lose a few with you."
"GRENADE!"
Urania bit her bottom lip in concentration as she wheeled her character away from firing range.
"Soldier, we're being under attack! Fire!"
"I know that! I know!" Nia shrieked as she began hitting buttons randomly on Tony's computer.
It was getting worse — her health was depleting, her med packs ran out and worse, she only got a few bullets left. The whole time, her eyes were fixed on the visual screen, never letting her attention go elsewhere. Because if she did, she'd lose.
And Urania hated losing.
"No! Wrong move! Wrong move!" She yelled and scrambled to get the right controls but then it was too late, the screen went black.
The words GAME OVER flashed before her in bold, red letters.
"Well that was a shitty game." She huffed. "Remind me not to play that game again Jarvis. It wasn't that good."
"Understood."
Nia had already spent the last six hours at Tony's garage, workstation — or whatever he call this place. After fiddling with Jarvis' systems, checking his computer's stats and downloading some stuff, Nia was already playing various games. And unlike any ordinary multiplayer game, this one was far better. The screens were bigger — she could manipulate it to be as big as a movie screen if she wanted to — and the audio was far better. Plus, everything was 3D. If she wanted to be a weapon-wielder, he could just ask Jarvis to make him a sword — something Nia could actually like hold and use to kill monsters.
Then, she suddenly heard footsteps. Nia looked up, knowing this area was underneath the house.
"Who was that Jarvis?"
"It appears Mr. Stark has arrived, Ms. Stark."
Nia frowned. "Huh. What time is it then?"
"About 11:27 PM."
"He's earlier than I thought." She muttered and began clicking the computer controls. "Oh well, time for bedtime."
Once she had shut off the controls and bid Jarvis a good night, Nia climbed upstairs and was about to head to her room when she heard voices.
Although she wanted to bombard Tony with questions, she felt something felt odd. Nia pushed herself against the wall, hiding herself away from Tony's sight.
Voices — yes. One was Tony's and the other one was obviously female. Pepper's?
Nia frowned and listened some more. Yes, a woman. But it was too high-pitched for Tony's secretary. And it was already in the middle of the night.
She risked taking a glance behind her, only to see her father — it was really him. Dressed in his fancy suit, his hair rumpled and dishevelled.
What made Nia's blood run cold was the woman on his arms — a tall, curvy blonde lady. She laughed every time they talked and they were climbing up the stairs — towards the rooms. Tony's room.
Nia's eyes widened.
Holy spades, it could only mean one thing.
She groaned, burrowing her face in her hands. Of course. Tony Stark is a playboy — always and ever will be! What did Urania expect? That he'd stop bringing ladies home just because he found himself getting a kid? But somehow, she'd expected something more from him now that he's not just any man, he's already a father.
"Oh God." She groaned, slumping down the floor.
It took her a few minutes to regain some of her dignity. Somehow, Urania felt embarrassed for her father. She was still a kid for goodness' sake!
Slowly, Nia forced her legs to climb up her room. And even from outside, she could hear their grunts and…and…
"Oh my — this is unbelievable." Nia moaned as pushed her door open and went inside. She felt like she was going to be sick.
Here she was, lying on the carpet, too weak after absorbing the fact that Tony might or might not been having sex with the woman on the room next door.
Not just Tony — her own father.
She felt as if her energy was suddenly drained away from her. Too tired to climb up towards the bed, Nia curled herself on the thick carpet and soon fell asleep with her hands on both of her ears.