Chapter 12
"Good afternoon, Mr. Stark," Christine Everheart greeted him with a warm smile.
"Good afternoon, Christine, and please call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father," Tony replied, reciprocating the smile.
"Tony then. How have you been going? We haven’t seen you in quite a while," Christine inquired, her curiosity evident.
"Are you missing me yet?" Tony laughed. “In all honesty, I needed some time away from the city. I’ve never been better. The break was refreshing, and it gave me the chance to consider things from different angles. I had so many ideas while I was away, I almost surprised myself.”
"That sounds fascinating. Any hints on what these new ideas might be?"
Tony grinned, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Let’s just say that the next upgrades will change the way we do things…”
They laughed for a moment, their conversation going through the details of Stark Industries. The company was the leader in inventions in a variety of fields, a fact that Tony Stark had not exaggerated in the slightest. They talked more about all the products about the number of products that would soon be added to the production lines.
Tony and Christine were both aware that this interview was not a huge advertisement for his company, but the talk was smooth, giving them both time to prepare. Talking about the relationship with Steve right away would have looked weird and even a little aggressive. They were consummate professionals, aware that first impressions were most important.
"There's no easy way to say it," Christine hesitated before finally broaching the sensitive topic. "But your relationship with the artist Steve Rogers had come to an end just before you disappeared. It wasn't the first time you broke up with someone. So why the reaction?"
Tony took a deep breath, his expression revealing a mix of contemplation and resignation. "Let's set the record straight. When I left town, we were not officially broken up. It happened weeks after. Just after the press started speculating we were separated because Rogers took Barnes to an official event."
Christine furrowed her brow, asking for some clarification. "So why did you leave then if everything was alright?"
“I have not said that either.” Tony sighed, his gaze momentarily fixed on a distant point. “I left because my little bubble of naivete was busted when I overheard a conversation I wasn’t supposed to know about.”
Christine leaned forward, her journalistic instincts probing for more details. "What conversation did you overhear? And why did it prompt you to leave?"
“It was a conversation between Steve and his friends. I wasn’t supposed to go see him that day, I supposed. They were discussing the true intentions behind Rogers’ relationship with me. It was a betrayal, something I wasn’t prepared to confront. Leaving seemed like the only way to preserve what was left of my own sanity. Sometimes, ignorance truly is bliss. Until it’s shattered.” Tony confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and resolve.
Tony described what had occurred in sufficient detail to be truthful without divulging too much about his personal life. In an era where personal stories were dissected by the public with voracious curiosity, the challenge was in balancing transparency with the need for privacy. Many people would not trust him no matter what he said, but, on the other hand, the stakes were high, and the repercussions for his company could be important. Silence could be interpreted as guilt even though the crime was somehow insignificant. Tony was only doing this interview because the consequences were extending far beyond his personal life. Stark Industries was employing hundreds of thousand people.
Steve was only concerned with his own fame and livelihood. Perhaps he would be kind enough to include his friend in his ascension to the top. After the end of their relationship, Tony would have been perfectly fine to be out of the way of Rogers’ success, not saying a word against the man. Wasn’t that ironic? Steve had the possibility to succeed on his own merits now that the doors were wide open, and yet, it seemed that he was determined to leverage their past connection for personal gain.
Tony was reluctant to divulge too much about his emotions regarding what had happened, but he understood that it was an essential part of the larger picture. Steve probably didn’t yet realise what his actions would mean for his life in the future. He would understand soon enough that privacy was more important than all the money in the world.
"I wanted to believe that, for once, I was loved for me and not for my name and what it could bring to people. I might be rich, but that doesn’t mean I can't be loved or, at the very least, be respected a little," Tony admitted with a touch of vulnerability, his gaze revealing the weight of the expectations that came with his prominent last name.
Christine listened intently, her curiosity piqued by the revelation. "You have helped quite a big amount of artists over the years.How come they didn't try that before?"
Tony leaned back, contemplating the question. "Some did, but I guess they weren't all that dedicated to that lie. Or maybe they wanted to be recognized for their art. Perhaps this time I was really in love and blinded by it. A mix of all that."
The idea lingered in the air, casting a shadow over Steve Rogers' motives. Maybe Rogers just wanted to be recognised, no matter how he got it. It created a less-than-flattering portrayal of the guy, implying a desire for celebrity that overshadowed the integrity of his artistic endeavours. Life as an artist has never been an easy one. Some would never make a living from it. The reality could be depressing at times.
"So you left the city and then what?" Christine probed, sensing a pivotal moment in Tony's recounting of the story.
"Well, I drove for a while without a destination in mind. I stopped in a random city and, surprisingly, found a good life." Tony answered as his gaze shifted to the now distant memory. “I would like everyone—journalists included—to leave those people alone. They simply want to live their lives in peace. It's not fair to drag them into the spotlight just because of their association with me. Privacy is a luxury we all deserve, no matter who we are."
The plea was sincere, a cry for compassion in the face of the public and journalists’ sometimes cruel scrutiny.
They talked about the possibility of living a semblance of a normal life when one was named Tony Stark. Obviously, his life wasn't perfect, but Tony was determined to make it work. Behind his words, there was an unmistakable strength but also a subtle warning. Those who knew understood it for what it was. The others who didn’t would find out soon enough. The years of relentless criticism and unfounded speculation about Tony Stark were over.
As the conversation pivoted, Christine asked a last question full of curiosity. “Is there someone in your life then?”
A smile played on Tony's lips, but he chose not to verbalise any comments. He was aware that his silence would be interpreted by the public in any case, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong. Tony Stark had always been notoriously private when it came to matters of the heart. The public had never heard him comment on his love life before, maintaining a deliberate silence that had, until recently, remained unbroken. Steve Rogers had forced his hand.
The interview left a lingering sense of discomfort within Tony. The way the media was prying into his private life felt like an invasion, leaving him somewhat dirty. There was something dark and unhealthy about that relationship between the famous people and the media. When would it stop? Not anytime soon. Unless he made them.
"And that smile will be our answer. Thank you for this interview, Mr. Stark." Christine said, understanding the unspoken cues.
"Thank you for having me," he replied, appreciating the fact that she wasn’t probing deeper.
After that interview, Tony drove back to Logan, tired of the city’s incessant hustle and bustle. The relentless back-and-forth had taken its toll. As he was driving through the winding roads, he thought about the possibility of being trailed by journalists or curious onlookers. He was prepared to face that challenge head-on. Not that he would have any other choice.
He almost wanted to relocate SI’s headquarters in that town, or build a branch there. It would undoubtedly benefit the local economy. Maybe not. Tony didn't want to make too many changes.
"Welcome back Mr Stark!" was shouted by a lot of different voices.
The cafe seemed to have attracted the entire town. It was a surprising turnout, considering that he had only confided in Pepper about the precise hour of his departure from the city. Logan had caught wind of his return through her most probably. Tony had intended to make his return a surprise, but instead he was the one being welcomed by a surprised gathering.
The café had been transformed for the celebration. Balloons decorated every corner of the main room, their vibrant colours adding a festive touch. A banner, unmistakably crafted by the hands of enthusiastic children, hungry proudly over the counter, displaying a heartfelt message of welcome. The letters were uneven, their alignment imperfect. There were stains of several paint colours. Tony couldn’t help but be moved by the genuine effort put in the decoration. He had never seen something more beautiful.
“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my idea.” Logan Informed him with a warm kiss on his cheek.
"Oh, I believe that. The banner is a big clue," Tony answered, his tone laced with amusement.
Tony has attended numerous galas and fundraisers throughout his life. However, those gatherings were never about the sheer enjoyment of the moment; they were more about appearances and networking. He had hated that part of his life, even in his younger years, when he was frequently drunk or high.
A party was as good as the people in it. In this close-knit community, he wasn’t Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Here he was just Tony, a regular person, one of them. A simplicity he had come to crave.
"I wanted to make hot chocolate for your return, but dad said it wasn’t a party drink! So, Tony? What’s your favourite party drink?" Laura asked innocently, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Tony chuckled at the question. "Well," he began, answering, "it needs bubbles, colours, and a straw or a little umbrella in it."
Laura was looking at him really perplexed. It was clear she expected a more detailed answer, her young, scientific mind seeking to understand everything. He loved that.
Tony had not had alcohol in years, and he wasn’t going to start drinking again now. He had long outgrown the need for alcohol to have a good time, and he didn’t want alcohol to remind him of everything that had gone wrong in his life.
"Do you want one of my favourites?" Tony suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'm sure your dad has the ingredients, and won’t mind if we go in his kitchen.”
Harley and Peter seemed to be close behind Laura wherever she went. Tony would have to prepare five cocktails. Logan's kitchen was a haven of organisation, making it simple to locate anything they would need. He showed the eager trio the art of dusting the rim of the glass with sugar and to do a simple melange of orange juice and lemonade with ice cubes. They each chose pieces of fruits to add in. Naturally, Tony added some blueberries to his. With a flourish, he added the finishing touch, a colourful paper straw, making the children giggle at his antics.
Logan almost pouted at them until Tony handed him the drink he had prepared especially for him. Laura had insisted that her dad would prefer strawberries in his cocktail, and Tony had prepared the drink accordingly.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Logan asked Tony quietly, so no one else could hear.
Tony met Logan's concern with a reassuring smile and took his hand and squeezed it. The question was about what had just transpired with the interview, but also this future with Logan in that small town in the middle of nowhere. The smile on Tony’s lips became warmer, showing the peace he had found here with Logan.
“Never been better.”