The MCU: It's All Real

2. Research

You flopped onto you sofa in pain. It was late in the evening and a few beams of moonlight were seeping through your apartment widow. Your lips curled into a frown as your ran your fingers through your H/C hair. Each strand was practically glued to your head with the amount of hair spry that you put on. Not to mention the pounds of makeup adorning your face.

Once your hair was separated from your scalp your fingers fumbled with your shoe laces. Being the idiot you were, you decided to focus on what the paparazzi would see and strapped four inch wedges to your feet. You didn't hesitate to throw those god forsaken shoes across your apartment the second you got them off. 

You ignored the blaring pain in the balls of your inflamed feet and wobbled through the kitchen until you reached your bedroom. You walked over to your body mirror, spun around, and craned your neck around so you could do your best to get the zipper. After a few tries you finally were able to get a good grip on the metal and slid it down your back. 

You peeled the skin tight black dress off your body and let it fall to the floor. Your hands pulled open your dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of fresh gray sweat and a matching t shirt. You slipped the large pants over your legs and let them rest loosely on your hips. 

Once you hand your shirt on, you brushed away the memories of the memorial and focused on the memories of the food that once lived in your stomach. Rubbing your swollen eyes with one hand, you thrust open the fridge door with the other.  

A single painted eyebrow raised when you saw flour in your fridge. Although you shrugged it off when you saw a box of half eaten Chinese food. You snatched the cardboard off the rack and popped it into the microwave. 

After you had set the timer, your pounding feet wandered back into the living room. Once you stepped off the hard wood and back onto carpet you felt relief wash over you. Your slightly comforted feet took you over to the tv stand.

You picked up a few of the discs and mindlessly looked through them. They were all Marvel movies but you didn't feel like watching any, you did have them memorized after all. The beeping of the microwave cause you to drop the discs back onto the tv stand. 

The moment you opened the microwave the smell of delicious fried rice filled your nose. You licked your lips and grabbed a spoon from the dish rack before digging in. You shoveled and shoveled the rice into your face until you were choking. 

You let out a horse cough and smacked your chest a few times to get air back in your lungs. When you were breathing again you let out a sleepy sigh and rested your face on your kitchen countertop. 

The last words of your grandfather kept repeating themselves in your mind as you mindlessly played with your hair. Start from the beginning. "I don't know how to get there." You mumbled into the silence. 

Your fingers continued to twist the soft strands of silk coming from your head. You looked across the counter until your eyes landed on one of your Marvel discs. Captain America: The First Avenger, to be specific. Then an idea sprouted in your tired brain.

"The first Avenger..... That's the start of the franchises but it was also you start of your career." You announced into the night, sitting up completely. "It was the first comic you wrote and what kicked off your career." You spun around in your stool with a child like grin on your face. 

Your once sleepy eyes were now alive with excitement. "And your career started in New York, 75 years ago." You took a moment to stair at the framed picture of your grandfather with the original Avengers cast before sprinting to your room.

__________

The smell of city filled your nose as you stepped off the plane. You had your [Favorite Color] backpack slung over your left shoulder and held your phone in your right hand. You were dressed in black leggings, a white shirt, thin grey sweater, and white converse.