veniality |•| t.s daughter (2)

fireworks

♡mara♡
age fourteen

2010

The sun was just starting to set on the land of Malibu, but somehow a party was already in full swing at the Stark mansion. Mara couldn't fathom why her father insisted on hosting the party in his own home, but there wasn't much she could argue. She knew that if she asked him not to throw the party then he wouldn't, and that's exactly why she didn't ask.

It was time to celebrate the new year, something Mara also couldn't fathom. What was there to celebrate? It's just another year that's passed, there's nothing special about that. Of course, Mara doesn't find much meaning in life, so she is a bit biased on the topic.

Mara wasn't going to let the night go to waste though, no. Instead she'd do something much more rebellious than she'd ever done. Mara is a trained killer, yet she couldn't help the beating of her heart when she snatched the bottle of vodka from one of the ice buckets in the kitchen.

It was an adrenaline rush, for no reason at all. Maybe it was because she was doing something girls her age should actually be doing for once, or maybe she was just excited to feel something other than the void that consumed her.

It was stupidly easy to sneak the bottle up to her room. Despite being dolled up in a fancy blue dress that was covered in sparkles and matched with ridiculous heels, Mara had easily blended in with the crowd. She also used a little manipulation on the minds of those who thought of stopping to talk to her.

Everyone seemed to want to talk to the elusive daughter of Tony Stark. It wasn't a surprise considering she'd been gone for years, and a mystery even before that. In the mind of others they thought it was for protection, but to those that knew, it was alcoholic mans shame.

The thought of that didn't hurt Mara anymore. She'd always been curious as to why her father treated her that way for so many years. Was it really shame? Or was it because of who her mother was to him? There could be so many reasons, but none of them would ever justify treating a six year old child that way.

When Mara had successfully made it to her room, she dropped her happy facade. She easily kicked off her heels and took off the velvet choker that consumed her neck. The scar didn't bother her anymore, or that's what she told herself. It still brought a twinge if pain whenever she looked in the mirror, and shame whenever in public.

Maybe she wouldn't feel this way about such a useless thing if her father hadn't made her hide it. He'd been the one to make sure no one ever saw, in fear of how it might effect his reputation. Even now, the public doesn't know the story or what happened to Maras mother, and they never would.

Slowly, Mara sat down on the edge of her bed. It was one of the small things in life she cherished. At the academy the mattresses were little more than springs, so it was always a relief to lay on the king sized mattress at her fathers house. Most nights it was too soft and she'd have to lay on the ground to fall asleep, but other nights she would sacrifice sleep for comfort.

Mara glanced at the bottle in her hand. Maybe she shouldn't have snagged the vodka for her first time drinking. But she wasn't even sure if she could get drunk, so she couldn't go with something weak either.

If Mara wanted, she could make her taste receptors stop working. But she was never one to take the easy way out. She wanted to experience drinking at it's full potential. She wanted to know what was so great about alcohol, why it had such an effect on her father and others.