Vogue | Tony Stark

TWENTY NINE - A STORM

"What the hell was that?"

Estélla was furious. Her cheeks were red with anger that burned beneath her skin and her heart was working overtime to beat fast enough to keep her alive, her head spinning with wild, untameable thoughts that were powerful enough to break the world in half had she not had such a rational balance in her soul.

Things had been smooth sailing for Esté and Tony for the last two weeks, though their relationship had seemingly done a one-eighty on the night of Esté's appearance on a late night talk show.

Tony had accompanied her that night and watched from backstage as his girlfriend sat beside Henry Cavill on a leather couch and talked about their experience working together on the Armani commercial. He thought he'd gotten over his jealousy and pushed all the negative thoughts aside, though they soon resurfaced as he watched Henry sit with his arm across Esté's shoulders for two hours straight.

Tony was fighting a battle with himself. Deep down he knew there was nothing to the situation and that the words of admiration the British actor couldn't seem to stop gushing about Estélla were nothing more than a formality, a professional courtesy and perhaps a sprinkle of truth from a friendship that had formed between them, but still, the sight made him sick.

He hated seeing Esté look into Henry's eyes and smile, he despised the way she touched his shoulder when she spoke about him and how she reeled off an endless spiel about how wonderful he was. He didn't like watching Henry place a kiss on her blushed cheeks or embrace her with a warmth that she reciprocated, in fact, he didn't like any of it.

In attempt to cool himself off, Tony took advantage of the champagne available to him while he waited for the show to finish, only the alcohol had seemingly heated him up more instead. It distracted him so much so in the end that he completely missed the section of the interview where Estélla poured her heart out about Tony, her eyes melting with happiness when she got to talk about her relationship and how grateful she was to have such a supportive partner.

The after party had been one of the most humiliating evenings of Estélla's life. She did the rounds and spoke to the other guests, mingled with familiar faces and new ones too, only for Tony to ignore her for the entire night, progressively getting more and more drunk as the hours ticked on.

Esté was clueless as to what had gotten into her boyfriend, feeling herself growing more irritated by his behaviour every time he turned down her attempts to talk or sit by his side. The actions didn't go unnoticed either, plenty of people approaching her throughout the night to ask if everything was alright.

Esté felt heartbroken. Tony had never been cold towards her for as long as she'd known him, never once turning his back on her or talking down to her, looking at her like he was looking through her, not even acknowledging that she was there.

It completely wrecked her to feel violated by the person she trusted most in the world, by the one person that knew her inside and out, for all that she was and all she'd ever been. She felt as though half of her had been torn away, like all the happiness that having Tony back in her life had shone in, had been drowned out by a thick black cloud that settled over only her.

And while she could've very easily broken down and let the tears spill from her eyes while Tony sat with his arms around two models she'd shared runways with in the past, Esté stood with her chin up and a smile on her face, acting as if everything was just fine.

"That was a taste of your own medicine, Esté. Isn't nice, is it?"

Tony shrugged off his overcoat and threw it over the back of the couch, storming over to the bar with a face that resembled dark thunder, wasting no time in grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a top shelf and pouring himself a large measure.