Vogue | Tony Stark

FIFTY TWO - A GOODBYE

It was the end of summer when Estélla and her family were leaving New York City for good. All the windows in their brownstone townhouse were closed except for the one in Esté's bedroom, a light breeze blowing through the open glass while traffic noise and conversation joined in with the tweeting of birds in the trees that lined the sidewalk.

Esté was sat on her bed with her legs crossed, the mattress bare and bed frame free of the strings of fairy lights that had once made the room shine golden in the evenings. The walls were plain and the old dresser was empty, no scatterings of jewellery or perfume bottles, posters of her favourite musicians in frames or comforters on the windowsill. In fact, there was no trace of Esté left at all.

Tony was sat beside her in the same position, looking down at his hands as he picked at the skin around his fingernails. They hadn't said much to each other that day but their company was enough, choosing to sit together in their own quietness while the movers packed up the last of the Goldwyn's belongings.

Esté could hear her mother and father talking to the removal men below them on the street and she drew in a sharp breath when she heard them ease their conversation to a close, an impending end to something edging closer and closer.

"You won't forget about me, will you?"

Tony almost laughed when Estélla asked the question. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes and a worried frown, letting him know that no matter how silly her question might've sounded to him, it was serious to her.

"I couldn't, even if I wanted to."

She smiled then, nodding before looking back at the empty closet in front of her. She remembered a time where they'd used to play hide and seek for hours and Tony would somehow never learn that Esté was almost always hiding somewhere in her closet, whether it was between the coat hangers or beneath an old blanket.

"You can't forget about me either, you know."

Esté shook her head, "I won't."

"Estélla! Time to go!"

The teenagers looked at each other when George's voice carried up the walls of the house and through the open window. Their eyes were nervous and limbs hesitant to move, but they did anyway.

Esté closed the window and Tony shut the closet doors, both of them standing idly in the strangely empty room.

Tony felt sick. He'd had nightmares about the day that his best friend would leave him and up until then, it hadn't really felt real. Even though her things were gone and her room was stripped bare, Tony still couldn't believe that she was really going, not until they were forced to say goodbye.

They looked at each other for a long moment, anxious that George and Leonie were waiting for them but desperate to cling on just a little bit longer.

Esté hadn't lived a life without Tony in it. From the day she was born, he'd always been around. They'd learned to walk together, talk and read and write. They'd discovered emotions like happiness and sadness, pain and fear. Neither of them had ever been alone, always having the other there, and now it seemed like they were being pushed into a new life, a clean slate, forced to learn how to be all over again but that time, alone.

"I'm gonna miss you."

Esté crumbled first, hanging her arms around Tony's neck and burying her face into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. He hugged her tightly, lifting her feet off the ground and holding her as close to him as he possibly could.