So This is Love || Book 1

Self-Cooking Hotdogs

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Captain America: Civil War

"To generate, disseminate and preserve knowledge. And work with others to bring it to bear on the world's great challenges..."

The sparkle in my eyes couldn't be more apparent as I recited the statement alongside the mass group of students and professors in the auditorium.

I stood backstage, watching through the small gap in the curtains as I wasn't allowed to show my face to anyone besides the select staff members.

"Well, you are the others. And quiet as it's kept the challenges facing you are the greatest man kind had ever known." My dad was standing dead centre of the stage, giving his speech where each word was provided by a teleprompter only visible to himself.

MIT... My dream.

I would've already been in my third year there if I didn't struggle so hard with Aeronautics.

But I'd be starting my first year in September and with the exhausting amount of preparation my dad put me through the past year, I passed the test with flying colours...

"Plus most of you are broke."

Laughter came from the crowd.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were."

Okay, well. Exhausting preparation and a comically large hypothetical check.

"As of this moment... Every student has been made an equal recipient of the inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in..." Pause for dramatic effect...

"All of your projects have just been approved and funded."

A round of applause from the students.

"Absurd."

I turned to the man who spoke next to me. A tall skinny man in a black turtleneck with the ugliest, nastiest look on his face directed at the back of my father's head.

"Dude, you're kinda ruining my vibe here-"

"This was mine. All my hard work. And he makes a fool out of me. How can he stand there without a care in the world like he hadn't just taken credit for and mocked my life's work in front of all these people? BARF? Look at him! A pathetic man like him shouldn't take geniuses like me for granted," he spat every word like it was poison.

"You work for my dad?" I asked monotonously.

The scowl on his face disappeared when he looked at me with a bit of shock. "You're Y/N Stark?" He asked so casually. As if he wasn't just insulting my father to my face. "My name is Quentin B-"

"Yeah... I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially those who crap on my dad's image," I waved my hands up in defence, turning to walk away when his hand got hold of my forearm.

"You think you can help me out?" He asked likee he wasn't just insulting my father a second ago.

"What?" I scrunched my nose, attempting to pull my arm away.

"Put in a good word? Convince him my project is worth the care? Convince him to reimagine its purpose in the way I intended it! And for God's sake, give me the credit I deserve!"

"Please let go of me," I said, trying to sound calm when in reality I was starting to fear this man.

"He'll listen to you. You're his little girl. He'll do it."