For the Love of My Life

Chapter One

"Cleo....my darling, lovely Cleo. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" the man asked in earnest, hope shining in his eyes.

Arm draped over your eyes as you lie on the couch, you lifted it to see the man on one knee before you. Your eyes briefly flitted to the small velvet box in his hand.

"No," you mumbled, deadpan expression upon your face.

"What?"

"I said 'no'. For the fourth time, no I will not marry you, Tony!" you repeated, raising your voice.

He balked in disbelief. "Why not? And please, call me Antony."

"No."

"Okay."

"Because I don't love you and you don't love me! And stop calling me Cleo! For the last time, I am Y/N, you are Tony Stark. We are co-stars in a fictional play on Broadway where we pretend to love each other. We're actors! And while I appreciate your dedication to the role, we are NOT in love and you need to STOP proposing to me!" you cried out in exasperation, swinging your feet down to meet the floor.

"I think you're wrong. I think you do love me," Tony protested, combing fingers through his close-cropped dark hair while rising to his feet.

"I think you're delusional. We complement each other well and yes, we are convincing on stage. But it really is just pretend. You've gotta let it go. Besides, what about Pepper?"

"Who?"

You huffed out a sigh, "Pepper Potts? Your girlfriend? Poor girl who fell for your nonsense the last play you two were in together?"

"Oh...right," his brow furrowed in remembrance.

"Yeah. Go see her. We have the next two days off. Take a break from the theater district for once and try to be an actual person rather than a character, mmkay?" you stood, turning him around and giving him a shove toward the door. He wasn't even ready yet and the curtain rose in half an hour. The man was only half in costume and still needed a shave, something he complained about constantly since he couldn't keep his beloved goatee for the role.

Once he was gone, you collapsed into the chair in front of the vanity, lighted mirror showing makeup smudges upon your weary face. A few days off was exactly what you needed, too. The play had opened 7 weeks ago to good reviews and attendance had climbed steadily since then. Seeing your name on Playbills and a billboard in Time Square never failed to thrill you.

After making it to New York, you auditioned steadily while working the usual waitress and retail jobs to get by. It was a tough business, but you stuck it out and finally you had arrived. You were an understudy in a few plays before getting steady, supporting roles. Now this current project was your third major Broadway play and your first in a leading role. "MARK & CLEO, starring Tony Stark and Y/N (Y/L/N)" lit up the marquee outside the theater, a flutter rising in your stomach each time you saw it.

Tony's confusion wasn't entirely his fault, at least when it came to the character's name and personality. He was Mark Antony to your Cleopatra, but in modern times. Hence, Mark and Cleo. There were dream sequences in the play that took place in Ancient Egypt, which were Tony's favorite and now he required the entire cast to call him Antony. Ridiculous man. Since you only knew him in this role, you weren't sure if the role just fit him perfectly or if he was so method that he had completely embodied the character in real life. Either way, he was losing it. The time apart would do you both good.

The matinee earlier today had gone well, now you just had the evening show and then freedom! After fixing your smudged makeup, you attached your wig securely and then slipped on your robe to grab your first costume from the seamstress. It had needed mending after someone stepped on your gown's train during the matinee. Dress in hand, you returned to your dressing room and shut the door to change when a warm body pressed up against your back, arms circling around your waist.