Chapter 9
Tony didn’t particularly want to go back to New York, but he had no other choice. A door was opening. A new relationship with Logan was promising, but the genius understood that he would not be able to completely explore it unless he closed the story that still lingered with Steve. People thought that Tony Stark as confidence personified, but, in truth, it was all a facade. He was terrible at confrontation. As much as Tony liked fixing things, feelings were not readily repaired. Those chapters needed to be closed to forge a clearer path ahead.
Tony began by explaining the entire story to Logan. He needed to be truthful in the relationship if they wanted any chance of progress. He had never lied to Steve or in any of his previous relationships, but he had to confess that he had never been overly upfront about his emotions. He was learning from his prior mistakes. Tony looked for the silver lining in every scenario, hoping that his newfound openness would strengthen his bond with Logan.
Logan’s reaction was more than the genius expected. The man was genuinely upset on Tony’s behalf. The display of concern was something new that Tony found quite cute.
A confrontation between Steve and Logan would certainly be entertaining. Admittedly, Rogers had a beautiful body and loved to use his height to intimidate others. From what Tony has sensed through his clothes, Logan’s physique was equally impressive. If Tony had to guess, he would say that Logan was even taller than Steve. Tony’s money would be on the cafe owner of course, but not just because they were dating now. It was also a recognition of the cafe owner's strength and tenacity. Rogers would never be able to get the upper hand.
The drive back to New York couldn’t have been more dissimilar to the hours that had led Tony to his new life. This time, he was focused, even impatient. Tony had made a call ahead to Pepper, giving her a heads-up about his impending arrival. However, he was clear that his stay would be as brief as possible. The new approach to managing things from his new town was proving effective, and Tony had no intention to sit through a thousand needless meetings.
As long as the company was making benefits, the board members should be satisfied. Tony could always buy back their shares if necessary. It wouldn’t take long for them to realise that the company had never been that successful ever before. That bottom line spoke louder than any meeting Tony would appear in.
The tower had once been his home but now, it felt foreign now. He found himself missing the flowery wallpaper and the vintage furniture that adorned Miss Florence’s house. Admittedly, he wouldn’t stay there indefinitely. He could admit, at least to himself, that he had entertained dreams about moving into the flat above the cafe, being part of that little family with Logan and Laura. There was no harm indulging in a bit of daydreaming, but rushing things would not help him in the long run.
“Tony?” Steve said, picking up his phone immediately, almost eager to hear from him.
"Yeah. I was wondering if you were free to meet soon," Tony replied, trying to keep his voice nonchalant, almost bored.
The last thing he wanted was to have this conversation over the phone, but he also didn’t want to tip Steve off about the true reason behind their impending meeting. Steve was a great liar, or perhaps Tony was just that trusting. Either way, the artist didn’t need time to prepare and come up with a plausible story to explain everything.
Regardless of the reasons, Tony wanted out of that relationship, but he could not deny that, because of his low self-esteem, he needed to come out on top. The sensation of being used would very certainly never go away completely. To be fair, Steve wasn't the first person in his life to exploit him in such a way. Tony should have been used for his wealth and nothing else. Despite the disappointment and hurt he felt now, Tony had really fallen for the artist. There was no shame in that. The fault was with Steve and it needed to be said.
"Well, I’m painting at the moment. Maybe you could drop by with dinner tonight?" Steve suggested, apparently not that impatient to see Tony.
Tony agreed, and the conversation came to a close. Not too long ago, the businessman would have been over the moon at the prospect of a date in Steve’s workshop. He would have thought it normal to be the one going there and buying the food. As an artist, Steve often immersed himself in his paintings, working on one piece day and night. By morning, he would be both exhausted and happy. Tony had found that trait so endearing. He was the same after all.
The day went by quickly. The day flew by swiftly as Tony immersed himself in his R&D department, overseeing the progress and innovations being made. It was always exciting to interact with the scientists there, especially considering the enthusiastic response to the new blue prints he had sent. Those ideas sparked a sort of chain reaction, promising groundbreaking changes that had the potential to reshape the world. His new way of life had actually opened up a lot of opportunities for him and his company. It made him regret not embracing it sooner.
In the past, the old Tony would have gone the extra mile, opting for that quaint Italian restaurant Steve loved so much. Times had changed. Instead, he chose his favourite, Chinese food. The evening was going to be difficult enough. He might as well have some comfort.
Despite their weeks apart, it was evident that Steve wasn’t exactly waiting for him impatiently. The workshop was the same as ever. The air smelled faintly of pigments and linseed oil. The space was an organised chaos of colours and brushes, canvases leaning against walls, and half-finished works propped up on easels. Natural light came through large floor to ceiling windows. The floors were stained with a thousand different drops of colours. A massive canvas was sitting against an otherwise empty wall, and Steve was engrossed in painting with delicate precision in a small section of it. Rogers' love for New York, particularly Brooklyn, was evident in all his artwork.
The painting Steve worked on opened onto a bustling street, lined with charming stores painted in vibrant colours that hinted at the changing seasons. Autumn leaves, painted in warm reds and golds, flutter down from the trees overhead, adding a touch of seasonal magic to the scene.
In the centre of the painting, a group of youngsters were playing stickball, their faces flushed with a rosy glow. On the side, a sweet elderly couple walked arm in arm, hands linked, their smiles reflecting a lifetime of shared memories. A brown haired young man in his military uniform, neat and proud, seemed to be sweet talking to a pretty and shy shopkeeper.
The street view he was painting at the feel of the city from another era, a nostalgic touch typical of Steve’s predilection for the 1930s and 1940s. Everything always looked as if the times were simply better, the life easier then. Tony, on the other hand, was all about the future and how to actually improve what they already had for the greater good. They were two people with opposing visions that would never really align. On a normal day, Tony would have silently waited for Steve to acknowledge his presence, mindful not to disrupt the artist’s creative process.
“Steve,” Tony said, setting the food down on an empty part of what used to be the kitchen table before being invaded by art supplies. “Food is here.”
There was no longer any lost love. Tony had always been a tactile person with those he loved, whether they were lovers or friends. Tony opened one of the boxes, almost ignoring the other man, and began to eat. Steve sensed that something was different but chose not to address it straight away. He made a face at the food. It was certainly not his favourite. With a sigh, he begrudgingly started eating.
“You are mad at me because the press created a story about me attending that event with Bucky, but I did ask you first. You couldn’t make time for me, so I had to improvise. I’m not responsible for what the press says,” Steve explained, his voice full of that ‘I know better than you’ tone he had sometimes.
“I’m not mad,” Tony responded with a flat tone.
“Come on, Tony. You're being childish now,” Steve answered impatiently.
“I was angry when I overheard you and your friend sharing a laugh about using me for money and fame while faking the relationship, but I got over it. I was angry when I realised you were actually with Bucky, and that, all the while, you were supposed to be with me. But I got over it. I was furious when I finally understood the extent of how you were gaslighting me with the help of your friends, but I got over it. Now, I've moved on, and I don't really care about you or any of it anymore.” Tony answered, his voice flat despite the enormity of what he was explaining.
Steve stared at him, completely taken aback. Tony kept his cool on the outside, but on the inside was a different story. He was pleased with himself. Those things needed to be said, and now, for the first time, they felt true. Tony didn't need Steve. Sure, he had found somebody a thousand times better than the artist, but even without Logan, it was still the truth. He. Didn’t. Need. Steve. The realisation was liberating.
Steve attempted to justify his actions. When it didn’t work, he tried to deny everything or somehow reverse the role in what had happened, but Tony wasn’t listening anymore. He was just enjoying the fact that he had closed that chapter of his life and was now totally free to begin another. His future appeared to be promising. No matter what Steve said right now, nothing would change. The artist’s words no longer carried weight. Tony would not wallow in regret indefinitely. After all, without that failed relationship with Steve, he would never have encountered Miss Florence, Logan, Laura, Peter, Harley and all the others who had become significant parts of his life. They were undoubtedly worth the trouble, and Tony couldn’t wait to drive back there, literally leaving the past behind.
“So we are okay with the fact that it’s not exactly a break up, considering we were never really together but it’s just as good as one, right? Right. Don’t call me.”
With those words, Tony stood up and left the workshop without a backward glance. There was nothing for him there. He had parked his car not far away, ready to leave the city once again. He was about to drive to a place he was really happy to be in. Steve wanted to have it all, love, money and fame. Hopefully, the artist would find happiness in what he had left. In Tony’s opinion, friendship and love were far more important than wealth and celebrity.
As Tony drove, he thought about the choices some people made. The genius devotion to the art had the admiration of many. He wasn’t stroking his own ego, just stating a fact. For years, he had done his best to empower and uplift artists on their paths. Money was important of course. A good network even more. Tony had both. There was no need to lie about feelings. Good artists would receive his help and despite everything, Tony still thought that Steve had everything to make him a future reference in the art world. It wasn’t Tony’s problem anymore. Never again.