Secrets ↠ Peter Parker

39

(Y/N POV)

All my lovin'.

This was anything but fun.

Nothing like having over 5,000 guys hitting on you at the same time! I can't imagine how uncomfortable Peter was at the moment, watching people offer to buy me drinks, toss bouquets of roses at my head, and send air-kisses from across the room.

I am now eternally grateful I was locked up in the tower for the majority of my teenage years, because this was a kind of fame I never wanted to be exposed to again. Naturally, I had bodyguards on my left and right, but it wasn't the drunk men bouncing around that I was worried about.

I was only looking for one person in the crowd.

Specifically a man 5 feet and 11 inches tall. Of course, there wasn't a guarantee that he would be here, but my instinct told me he would. In fact, I knew he was here.

You see, I devised this plan a couple days ago. Looking at footage from my suit from that horrible day in prague, I was able to compare heights and ratios to find out Quentin Beck's height. I mean, if I wasn't able to get his DNA, I could always get his description.

That's why this party was only for the people that fit his description! With the majority of people here, I developed the satellite to record everyone's profiles so I could figure out where or who he is.

"Ned," I mumbled into the speaker lodged in my ear, "are you getting anything?"

"Just a moment Mila- sorry, Y/N, the data's taking a while to get in."

"Did you just call me Mila?" I laughed, "I haven't heard someone call me that in years."

"It's kind of stuck on me, you know, since that's the name you used since highschool."

"Yeah, I remember. Good ol' days, huh?"

"Good ol' days. Hey, listen, I'll let you know when I start getting transmissions. Have fun out there, Y/N."

"I don't really want to have fun-"

"Then find Peter. I'm sure he's looking for you."

I smiled to myself, pushing through the crowd. Peter wasn't too hard to find, compared to everyone else jumping and dancing around in the circle, because he was sitting alone in the corner drinking a box of apple juice.

I kid you not, I had unlimited champagne being served, and this man snagged a juice box from my fridge instead. I slipped through the last part of the crowd, and walked straight up to my boyfriend.

"How are you liking the party?" I smirked, taking the juice box from his hand, "meet any girls?"

"I just did," he joked, sticking out his hand, "nice to meet you, beautiful, I'm Peter."

"And I'm... ready to get out of here," I stated, grabbing his hand, "too many men."

"Do you want me to take you back to our room?" He yelled over the music, as I dragged him through the dance floor.

"I'm just going to the kitchen," I yelled back, "come with!"

"I'm already going with! You're dragging me!"

I stuck out my lip, and pulled harder on his arm. Once we reached an empty space of the lobby, I pushed Peter into the elevator and slammed the 6th floor button.

"Authorization code required," Ethan's voice rang out as the door slid closed.

"Pleter Porker " I enunciated, giggling at Peter's bewildered expression.

"Authorization granted."

"Who the hell is Pleter Porker?" Peter gasped, as the elevator began to shift upwards, "please tell me that's not me!"

"Of course it's not you, it's Pleter Porker, the renowned superhero Speedo-man!"

His cheeks turned beet red, and he stuck out his tongue at me. The elevator came to a stop, so I grabbed his hand and we ran to the kitchen. I could hear the music blasting from downstairs, and the floor vibrated with every beat drop.

"Apple juice?" he asked, popping open the fridge and grabbing one.

"Hmm, yes, actually."

He tossed it over to me and I caught it in a swift motion. I ripped the straw off from the back and took off the plastic covering, then stuck it into the hole at the top. The cold drink tasted so much better than champagne.

"So can you tell me now?" he asked.

"Tell you what?"

"What this whole party is about?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I can tell you."

"Yes!" he cheered, pumping a fist into the air, "finally!"

I rolled my eyes, and took another sip out of my drink. I explained the quick summary to him, and he seemed to understand it, which was good.

"I mean, it wasn't a bad idea," he started, "but how are we going to get all these dudes to leave?"

"That's something we shall find out."

"Oh...yikes?"

"Big yikes."

For the remainder of the hour, Peter and I just raided the kitchen and joked about memories from highschool. It really made me miss those times... and it made me miss my dad even more.

Sometimes I forget what life was like before he died... and it hurts to know that.