(5 chap before Season 3 Finale. I will be taking next week off for Eid Mubarak. For those who celebrated it, Eid Mubarak everyone! )
[Edward POV]
As I was on my way home, I reminisced about the time I approached RDJ at the party. "Why are you here?" I asked, narrowing my gaze at him.
He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest and opening his mouth in mock offense. After a moment, he decided to drop the act and scoffed as he couldn't trick me. "Did you run away from somewhere?" I questioned again.
RDJ, munching on a piece of green cake, replied with a mischievous grin, "Next time, make sure there's going to be an Iron Man cake too. That Ruffalo sure knows how to 'RUFFle my feathers."
I exclaimed in realization, "Ah. So, is this about the meet and greet? Your first meeting with the cast? Have you already started filming?"
With a proud expression, RDJ casually draped his arm over my shoulder. "Yes, that's right. It was incredibly boring, so I had to escape. The Twin Chris'es kept bonding over their workouts. But still, I had the best arm there."
He smiled and added, "I overheard some staff mentioning they were coming here to buy a software program from you. So I decided to hitch a ride. The idea was to ensure there's someone with a rapport, so you won't overcharge us– the now bankrupt company who is bought out by your nemesis, Disney."
I couldn't resist a playful response. "Well, now I'm going to triple the cost."
Reacting with mock outrage, RDJ rubbed his goatee and exclaimed, "Hey! Marvel still hasn't got the money yet!"
As I reflected on RDJ's true intentions for being at the party, I couldn't help but be grateful.
I had seen him during the press conference earlier, seemingly anxious yet determined. It became clear that he had come with the intention of offering support if I struggled during my interview. It wasn't because he doubted my abilities, but rather because he understood firsthand the challenges that come with such high-pressure situations. He has had his fair share of struggles before.
Being a celebrity meant existing for the public, not for oneself. It didn't matter if you were dealing with personal struggles or inner turmoil; you had to maintain a character facade in front of the camera. And he was worried that I couldn't take it.
Why would he even care about the software or the budget of the studio? He's just an actor, not a part of the company. Then, I guess after the press conference was over, he saw the cakes and decided to invite himself in.
"By the way, how did you fight that guy? Do you want me to teach you a few moves?" RDJ asked playfully.
"I punched him in the balls. You can teach me if you want, but in sparring, you need to know that is my go-to move."
He covered up his crotch area instantly and scoffed. He signed an autograph for Luke before going back to his house. The filming for the first Avengers movie would start in a few days, and he invited me to come watch the first filming session later.
Returning to the present, I immediately went up to my room and laid down on my bed with a tired groan after the day was finally over.
"Damn, I'm still hungry." I said as my stomach gurgled again. 'I kept getting hungry all day today. I wonder if I am in a period of rapid growth right now. Or is it that my now go-to response to stress is binge eating. Ahh, but I don't want to move!!' I thought whiningly as I squirmed on the bed, making a mess out of the sheets.
The door to my room swung open, catching my attention. I lifted my head slightly from the pillow to see Haley casually entering and plopping down at the edge of my bed.
"Hey!" she greeted cheerfully. "I still don't understand what happened this morning."
"Because you were sleeping the entire time," I scolded, but couldn't help but chuckle. Haley giggled and then proceeded to check the wound on my arm before brushing her hand gently against my bruised face. "Hmm. They almost made you ugly."
"It's going to take more than one punch to take away my looks," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully. I reached out and pulled her to my side, causing her to yelp and giggle. As she laid down, facing me, she asked with concern, "Is it scary?"
"Nah, more annoying than scary," I replied honestly.
"Really? You're not lying?" she asked, her worried expression searching my face.
I shook my head and reassured her, "No, I'm not lying."
She stared into my eyes, seeking confirmation of my words, before finally breathing a sigh of relief. "And what about that island?" she asked curiously.
I burst into laughter and said, "Oh yeah, that. I was just messing around. I wanted to see if I could make the media sweep this whole thing under the rug."
"Hmm?" Haley looked thoroughly confused, but I decided not to explain the full context of the matter to her. It was better for her not to know the full extent of the country's degeneracy.
We continued to talk for a while until my stomach growled again. Haley couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Why are you still hungry? We just ate. Oh yeah, you need to go back home early and talk to a lot of people. Poor baby. Do you want me to get you something to eat?"
"I already have my snack right here," I replied, playfully kissing her on the neck. She giggled in response and said, "Wait here. I'll bring you some food."
"Nah, I'll come with you," I insisted.
Together, we made our way to the kitchen and prepared some food. I cooked up some instant noodles, which we shared in a large bowl.
"Oh, I forgot to ask. Did you sneak out?" I inquired, slurping my noodles.
Haley, in the midst of chewing, tried to reply with her mouth still open but ended up choking slightly. After swallowing, she finally responded, "I was sneaking out, but then I realized my mom hadn't come inside yet. I met her at the door."
"And then?" I asked, intrigued.
"She guessed I was coming here, and she just let me," Haley replied, a touch of surprise in her voice.
"That's way out of character for her," I commented, feeling a bit puzzled.
"I know, right?!" Haley agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Then, I saw people from the ship here."
"The crewmates?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah. They are camping out around here, and chasing away all of the reporters who wanted to sneak around. I guess that's why my mom let me go. It's safe."
Feeling grateful for their attention, I smiled and said sarcastically, "Of course. That's the only reason that would make sense."
…
I groaned in a haze of hunger as I struggled to make my way across the dimly lit hallway corridor. Each step felt heavy, and my stomach clenched with an insatiable desire for food. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, a testament to the intensity of my craving.
Suddenly, my aunt Camila stood before me, her concerned expression etched with worry. "Ed, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. But in the distorted haze of my hunger, her features began to shift and twist, transforming into a talking steamed bun, its chocolate-flavored aroma filling the air.
"Ed?" She asked worriedly.
"HUNGRY!" I exclaimed, my desperation taking hold as I lunged forward and sank my teeth into the bun's neck. The air filled with a blood-curdling scream as the bun began to bleed, leaving trails of chocolate oozing from the wound. But as the taste of blood and chocolate filled my mouth, the scene abruptly shattered, and I jolted awake from the dream.
"ED! WAKE UP! YOU'RE LATE TO SCHOOL!" My aunt shouted, banging loudly on my bedroom door. Her attire, a white tank top and shorts, gave her an aura reminiscent of the main female characters in sitcoms like Penny or Rachel Green. The kind with things protruding out of their shirt that could captivate the attention of male viewers before they even realized they were invested in the story.
"No chocolate bun, I'm not going to school today," I replied groggily, wiping the drool from my chin.
"What bun–?" Oh, right. It's probably not the best idea for you to go to school after all that happened." my aunt said, her voice filled with concern. "Do you want some breakfast? I can go out and buy something for you." She came in and sat on the edge of the bed before checking my arm.
"Yeah, Pain au chocolat and a latte, please," I replied.
She held my chin and forcefully turned my head for her to see the bruise. She groaned and said, "Hmm, did they put ice on it yesterday? I wonder what's going to keep your fans now that your looks are gone."
I rolled my eyes and said, "I could sing like the Phantom of the Opera, or with a box for a head and people are still going to like me. Go now. You sitting here is making me hungry."
She didn't get what I was saying but she giggled and went out anyway. I checked my phone before seeing a message from Harvey.
"Oh, we got in contact with RIOT games. Nice." I exclaimed. "Robin, is there any action from the media after yesterday?" I asked after I was done checking and replying to the messages.
"The number of media outlets that are covering the story were down by 77% after the press conference yesterday. Percentage of them denying the island existed is 15%, and the percentage that is trying to smear your image as a lunatic is 2%." Robin replied.
I raised an eyebrow as Robin delivered the latest update on the media coverage surrounding the kidnapping incident. The significant drop in media outlets covering the story proved my action was correct, and I felt a sense of relief.
"77% decrease in coverage? That's quite a drop," I remarked, my voice tinged with surprise. "And only 15% denying the existence of the island? I expected that number to be higher." I chuckled.
"But, there is a more important piece of information." Robin added.
"What is it?" I replied.
"It seemed that this morning, the President of the country was talking about your incident."
"Wait. What? What did he say?" I asked, shocked.
"He didn't touch on the matter of the island, but he commented about the K incident, and a short sentence about how Sir Edward's action had recovered a national secret at the time of the abduction, and he is going to be presented with a medal of valor."
"Damn it." I cursed angrily.
…
Afternoon. After having lunch, my dad and I followed Phil to look at houses in areas with better security. Phil was dressed in a suit, as was my dad, while I opted for a more casual attire, wearing a plain hoodie and cargo pants.
As we prepared to begin our house-hunting adventure, Phil began suggesting the first house of the day, mentioning that it was located in Beverly Hills.
"Nope," I interjected quickly, throwing my hand in the air and shaking it to emphasize my disagreement.
My dad and Phil turned to look at me, surprise evident on their faces. Phil raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about my objection. However he didn't ask anything and just took out his list, "Alright. So no houses inside the stereotypical celebrity culture area."
I nodded and said, "I guess you didn't become California's top real estate agent for nothing."
"Not California, just our district." Phil corrected me and said disappointedly, "I still can't beat out Esther Rosenblatt by a large margin. Alright. We will go to West Hollywood."
After a short 20 minute ride, we arrived at a block-like house.
"Welcome to this extraordinary bunker house! A one-of-a-kind property that offers unparalleled security and peace of mind. Nestled discreetly within a serene location, this home has been thoughtfully designed to provide the utmost protection and resilience in any situation!" Phil said as he opened the door. The inside of the house was like every other modern house, but the walls were made of strong composite cement.
"Step inside and experience a world of safety and comfort. The reinforced concrete walls and advanced security systems ensure that Ed is shielded from potential threats. The underground construction and robust materials offer excellent resistance to severe weather conditions and even potential natural disasters."
My dad was nodding along in satisfaction while listening to Phil's description while I was becoming more and more dumbfounded.
"The state-of-the-art ventilation and air filtration systems maintain a fresh and healthy environment, even in extended periods of isolation–"
"Wait. Stop." I interjected quickly. I looked at both guys in disbelief and asked, "Why are you showing me a nuclear bunker?"
"I don't know if it can survive a nuke, but I guess if any house could, it would be this house." Phil said casually.
"Phil!" I called him. My dad replied, "I did tell Phil that security is my main concern. Nothing is too much in terms of safety. This house looks nice. We should take it–"
"HELL'S NO!" I vetoed the house immediately.
Then, we went to the next house still located in West Hollywood. We didn't even get out of the car when I saw it was shaped like the pentagram, and was built as a bunker too.
"NEXT!"
The third house was inspired by French designs, but still maintained the structure of an American house.
"It has 3 stories, plus the attic. You can see that it is inside a guarded area. And most importantly, there's a bunker in the basement." Phil said.
"Good, we will take this one–"
"No. I need the basement for my lab. Besides, this house has no pool. And very, very isolated. I need to walk 20 minutes just to get to another house in the neighborhood." I rejected the house with a tired voice.
"That's why there are transport services to get around." Phil said.
"Nein!" I stressed out.
The next house we went to see intrigued me. It was a picturesque retreat with a stunning pool area. Inside the main house, there were seven spacious bedrooms and six well-appointed bathrooms. The guest room was also in a different wing of the house.
"However, it is an hour away from our place right now." I sighed.
"What's wrong with that?" My dad asked.
"Then, how can I go to Phil's house in the morning? How can my friends come by and hang out?" I said.
Phil, a bit touched, almost teared up, "Alright. It's fine. Ed has his preferences. We will go to take a look at the last house, and if that doesn't satisfy you, then we can try again another day."
My phone rang before we could get to the car. I checked the id and it was from Pepper. I picked up the call immediately and greeted, "What's up Peps?"
"Edward. Where are you? You better not run around by yourself and get into trouble again. My poor heart couldn't take it." Pepper said.
"Your heart is in poor condition. You should run on the treadmill sometime." I said.
Pepper scoffed and scolded, "Are you fat-shaming me?!"
"Rather than fat-shaming, I don't want to lose you so early at the prime of your life." I said with a slight chuckle.
Pepper was speechless and then he spoke about why he was calling. He needed confirmation about where to receive the medal, in California or in NYC.
I grimaced and said, "Can't I not go?"
"I wish I could say yes. But from the information I got, it seems that the president wants to give you the medal himself. So you have to go."
"Damn it. Seriously! Let me fucking move on from this shit–" I was cursing to myself then I realized it could be misconstrued as I was cursing Pepper. , "Sorry Peps. That wasn't aimed at you."
Even Phil and my dad were startled when they saw me blowing up.
"Well I know." Pepper scoffed. After a while, he said placatingly "I wish I could let time move faster for you Ed. But I really can't do anything without it being damaging to you."
I sighed and said, "It's fine. I don't blame you."
Then, I changed the subject, "Oh, by the way, where is Max staying?"
"She's in a hotel somewhere. Why?" Pepper replied.
"I'm bored looking at houses with my dad all day." I replied. But honestly, I wanted Max for another reason. 420 reasons to be exact. My mood was irreparably damaged by the call that we had to stop looking at houses today and went back to our old house.
Paparazzi and fans were staying in front of the house as the car pulled in. They almost swarmed to the car if not for the security I had hired to protect me around the house area. Even Taylor couldn't get to the house she bought next to mine because of all the craziness.
5 days passed by in a hurry. The impact from the incident finally eased up while I was at my house, hiding from the crowd of fans. In the 5 days, I had opened a few of Taylor's tour concerts, took a picture with the president– in which I channeled the humorous spirit of Michael Scott from "The Office". I couldn't resist recreating the iconic expression of "I don't know how I got here" alongside the president in the picture, which made a lot of memes come out.
Simultaneously, I also launched my image editing software, which proved to be even more versatile. With versions available for both PC and mobile devices, users could effortlessly enhance and transform their photos on various platforms. The software's affordability and user-friendly nature made it accessible to a wide audience, resulting in a surge of sales that revitalized my once-depleted finances.
'It's basically a mixture of Canva, Picart, plus photoshop. And my fans just bought it because they wanted to get my how-to video on getting started.'
After a week, the attention died down as the world would move with or without my involvement. I could finally live my life back to normal again.