The Hamptons' House

1988 - Part 1

You could hear the noise from the party before you'd even reached the long drive to the house. It was one of those ridiculously large Westhampton Beach mansions in the typical turn of the century Americana style that sat right on the water and yet for some reason also has a pool. Beautiful, but cliched.

Not that you weren't excited. You'd never been in a house this big before. In fact, you were only in Westhampton Beach because your boyfriend's family had invited you up for the week. It was the last weekend in May and you were taking the little extra time you had off after graduating high school to enjoy the holiday spot before it was crammed full of the Summer crowd.

You weren't the only one. The Starks had allegedly come to throw their son's 18th birthday in their summer house. It was only just seven and the party looked to be in full swing already. You could see the bonfire already burning on the sand, along with the multitude of underage drinkers.

"How do you know him again?" you asked as he led you up to the house.

"Our fathers work together," Grant answered. "For a while, we went to school together too. But the little nerd got skipped ahead. From what I heard he throws a hell of a party at MIT, so it should be fun."

The front door was open when you got to it. It seemed this was no exclusive event so the two of you let yourselves in. Grant went straight for the bar while you decided you would head into the kitchen. You weren't 21 yet either and while you would drink from time to time, you had promised your parents you'd be safe and something about getting smashed with a bunch of strangers near water felt anything but.

Besides, Grant was an angry drunk and you wanted to have your wits about you.

The birthday boy was in the kitchen with what looked to be the only responsible adult in the house. There were several other people around your own age clustered about drinking from red solo cups and sitting on any available surface so the thought you were intruding didn't even pass through your mind.

"What do you mean they're not coming?" Tony said.

You didn't know him, but despite the fact he had tried to sound sarcastic and uncaring, the pain practically dripped from his voice. You looked up at him as you poured yourself a coke.

You knew who Tony Stark was. The kid had been in the gossip magazines since the day he was born and as he was only a few months younger than you, he'd held that spot of teen heartthrob for a lot of your friends. He was good-looking. Not particularly tall and kind of skinny, but handsome in a traditional way.

The man he was talking to looked to be in his seventies. He was dressed in a suit and was using a cane to support himself. "I'm sorry, Master Stark. Your father did say he wanted to come, but he was held up."

"You don't have to lie for him, Jarvis," Tony said and waved him off. "It's fine. Whatever. I don't know why I expected anything different. Besides, it's better they aren't here. Now I can have some real fun."

He slung his arm around the two closest women to him. It just so happened that one of them was you. "What do you think, ladies? Shall we make it a real party?"

The other woman, a blonde, who looked to be about twenty, tittered and nosed at the younger man's cheek. "Sounds fun, Tony."

You looked around startled, trying to see where Grant might be, but even through the door to the living room, he was nowhere in sight. "Oh, I'm not..."

"Tony," Jarvis said gently. "You don't need to do anything silly now."

"Why not? It's what he'd do, isn't it? Make it an orgy? It can't be the first one you've witnessed," Tony argued.