Esté snapped off three sheets of paper from the roll beside her, wiping her mouth clean and pushing herself up back onto her feet from her knees, flushing the toilet as soon as she heard footsteps enter the bathroom.

The noise of the show still ongoing was deafening and Estélla found herself unable to think for the pounding in her ears, a dizziness skewing her balance and her vision as she steadied herself in front of the large mirror.

Alicia barged into the pink pinstriped bathrooms with haste, wrapped in panic and concern after seeing Esté run straight towards them as soon as she exited the runway after her first walk.

"I'm sorry," Alicia shook her head, "I might've been too harsh on you. If you really can't do it, nobody will think bad of you, Esté. If you need a break, it's totally fine. You've been through a lot, you're going through a lot and it's totally understandable for you to-"

"No," Esté breathed, picking up her head and looking at her reflection. She still looked flawless thanks to the work of the makeup artists and hair stylists earlier, even if she had thrown up what was an already empty stomach.

"Seriously, think about your health here. You don't look...y-you look so..."

"Tired?" Esté suggested.

Alicia just swallowed, nodding once with empathy in her eyes and a nervous frown. She'd noticed her friend getting thinner and the bags beneath her eyes getting darker, her smile dimmer and energy lower, it wasn't hard to miss. And while she and Katy did everything they could, cooking for her and cleaning her home to give her any kind of respite, nothing had seemed to work.

"I am," she sniffled, "But I have a job to do, a name and a reputation to uphold. I'm not letting the world see me shed a tear and then not going back out there and finishing my job. I've never quit anything before and I'm not starting now. I'll finish this show, even if it's the last damn runway I ever walk. And then...then I'll..."

"You'll rest?" Alicia hoped.

Esté sighed, turning to look at her with a slow blink of weak eyes and a weary nod, "Then I'll rest."

Alicia didn't bother arguing with her despite wanting to wrap her up in cotton wool and take her home. Instead, she took hold of Esté's hand and pulled her out into the backstage area where three stylists pounced, changing her out of one set and into another in forty seconds flat.

Esté crouched in front of her vanity while another pair of white wings were placed on her back, this time dipped with gold glitter that matched the lingerie set covering her chest and hips.

The makeup artists had done a good job at covering the tiredness beneath her blue eyes but Esté could still feel the weight pulling down on her face. She needed sleep and she needed rest, that much was obvious, but the one thing she really needed, she couldn't have.

Estélla tried not to think about Tony as another stylist touched up her hair and shook the roots, lifting her curls and spritzing spray across the ends to hold it all in place.

She looked like a doll, Alicia thought, a perfect, beautiful doll that every little girl in the world wanted to play with. It pained her to know that a woman as wonderful, that shone as brightly as Esté did was so fatefully dark on the inside. It didn't seem right, didn't seem fair for her to give so much and receive so little of the things she really wanted.

Estélla had been bathed in wealth from the second she was born, but she hadn't lived a day without Tony Stark. She had the money and the house and the cars, the diamonds and pearls and private jets, but none of that meant anything if she didn't have the other half to her.

"Where the hell have you been? What are you playing at, Estélla? Get your act together, you're on in ninety seconds."

The show manager stormed over with a face like thunder and a tone like the wind, sharp and fierce with eyes icy cold and a jaw stronger than the rainfall. Still, none of what she said intimidated Estélla, caring more about keeping herself on her feet rather than any useless criticism.

"Ignore her," Alicia glared at the uptight woman once her back was turned, holding Esté by the shoulders once they reached the side of the runway, "You can do this, I know you can."

"Me too," Esté breathed, suddenly looking a lot more full of confidence than she had done bent over the toilet bowl not four minutes earlier.

Alicia gave her a smile. She was immensely proud of her friend yet equally worried, knowing that whatever happened after the end of that show could perhaps be the biggest storm they'd ever had to deal with. Regardless, they would come out of it together, neither Alicia or Katy ever willing to give up on Estélla for anything.

"Look for Katy, she's out there somewhere."

"Esté! Go!"

Alicia watched as Esté swallowed harshly and nodded at her instructions. Holding her breath as Esté took her first steps out onto the runway, Alicia stood with her hands clasped together in front of her lips, as if to pray, her entire soul hoping that Estélla would do herself justice. Deep down, Alicia knew there was never any danger that she wouldn't.

The trance that Esté snapped into every time she hit the runway thankfully came as second nature to her, and that walk was no different. Just the same way as she'd done the first time, Estélla began to strut her way down the catwalk with a Hollywood smile and enough energy to light up the city, the crowd going wild for their golden girl.

Her stride was flawless and she even extended a hand to The Weekend to hold onto as he walked a few paces with her, singing into her eyes like they were the only thing he could see before she let go of him with a flutter of gentle fingers and a knowing smirk that made his cheeks blush.

It wasn't until the nearer the end of the runway that Estélla had to infiltrate the auto-pilot that ran her as she walked. A blaring reminder for her to not look over to her left at the empty chair repeated over and over in her head and she stayed strong to the order, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead of her.

Esté could almost see the empty chair from the corner of her eye when she reached the end of the catwalk. She knew exactly where it was and was aware that if she turned just an inch to the left, the vacancy would ruin her all over again.

Don't look, don't look, don't look.

She scorned herself, but of course, Esté looked. She knew what to expect that time, no surprises and nothing to shock her, nothing to remind her of what she'd lost. Regardless of how strong Estélla was, she found it impossible to not turn that extra inch.

Only, Estélla was wrong. It turned out that she did had a surprise waiting for her, and that surprise was sat in a black Tom Ford suit with a bunch of Juliet Roses in his lap, the biggest smile she'd ever seen gracing his pretty lips.

She froze at the end of the runway, just as she had done on her first walk, convinced she was living in some kind of twisted nightmare and that her lack of sleep was wreaking havoc on her imagination. It was devious and cruel to see what she saw, painful and heartbreaking in such a way that it brought tears into her eyes again, limbs held in place by invisible ties that kept her rooted to the spot, feeling like she was stood on the very edge of the world.

Tony had been gone for a little over two months but it had felt like eternity. There was no time, no hours or days or weeks for him to keep track of after he left his home behind. Tony had seen things in the universe, things no person could ever comprehend seeing and things no person should see. He survived situations no person should have to survive and had memories no person should have to keep, the weight and horror of them being enough to almost drive him to not coming home at all.

But he did. Tony made it home, thanks to the help of The Avengers, and he sat there on that front row with his heart in his mouth and flowers in his hands, the thorns almost cutting his palms he was holding them that tight. But Tony's home wasn't Earth, it wasn't the USA or even New York City. It was her, the girl on the end of the runway, looking into his eyes like she'd just seen a ghost.

Tony's stomach immediately dropped when he saw Estélla again. His senses fell away from him, leaving behind nothing but regret and heartbreak as he noticed how thin her hands and arms were and how unhappy she looked, how empty she seemed behind the false shine that had been put into her eyes.

That wasn't the woman he'd left behind, that wasn't Estélla, his Stella, the girl with the golden smile and the endless radiance, the softest heart and warmest compassion.

The sight broke Tony.

Esté thought she was going to throw up again, feeling something heavy rise up through her stiff lungs and tight throat, almost as if she was choking on nothing at all. It couldn't be him, she thought, staring at him with blurred vision and pulsating veins, it just couldn't.

But then he stood up, and things started to move slower. Tony saw the disbelief hold Esté in place and he saw the way she turned to stone at the sight of him, the way she couldn't connect her thoughts and her body, the way she completely lost herself in a matter of seconds.

He watched as her curled fists loosened, her left hand falling free and her fingers ever so slightly reaching out, reaching towards him.

And that was all Tony needed to see. Estélla needed him then, she needed him to break the daydream and to breathe some life into her clouded lungs and stormy mind, to tell her that everything was, and always would be, okay.

Esté stayed bound to the spot as Tony took long strides towards the runway, the security guards doing nothing to stop the superhero as he climbed up a small set of stairs to hold him four feet below Esté.

Her blue eyes followed him every inch he drew closer to her, across the floor and up those metal stairs, ending right in front of her. She looked down at him, still not believing her own eyes as they scanned his face.

He had a black eye and his skin was covered in red cuts and blue bruises, a sight that made Estélla want to cry. The fact that harm had come to him was enough to gut her from the inside out, endless thoughts of him in pain inflicted the same emotion onto her, running through the depths of her bones and to the middle of her heart. She would've taken the pain away from him if she could, would've taken every ounce of it if it relieved him even for just a moment.

And yet despite the war that Tony had survived, he was there. He looked up at her, a trembling smile on his lips as he watched her shaking hand lift a little more, slowly edging towards his cheek until finally, finally, she touched him again.

Tony let out an audible sigh at the sensation of her hand on his face, the notion jerking tears into his eyes as he placed his own hand on top of hers, wrapping his fingers around her palm and bringing her knuckles to his lips, kissing them and squeezing her tightly.

There had never been a single moment in her career where Estélla Goldwyn had behaved anything other than entirely professionally. In fact, she set the standard for everyone else to follow, crafting the epitome of the level of class and dedication it took to succeed in her industry.

She prided herself on that, working tirelessly to uphold the reputation that she'd slaved away to make for herself, one that crowned her as the golden girl, the flawless executioner, the best in the world. It had never once entered Estélla's mind to act any differently, to act out of line or go against what she'd been told to do, to do something she knew that she shouldn't do.

But rules didn't matter in that moment, not to her.

Estélla felt like she'd surely collapse any second, gasping for breath as she felt Tony's lips on her fingers, the warmth and familiarity of the squeeze of his hand and his smile, God his smile.

She wasn't dreaming or being tortured in a nightmare, Esté quickly realised that and once she did, she felt the tears stream down her cheeks and her knees weaken, sinking down onto her heels with a whisper of a cry on her lips.

They were face to face then, alone in a room full of people and cameras broadcasting their moment across the world, though neither of them felt anything but the other. The world went quiet, and so did Tony and Estélla.

She touched his face again, sobbing as her fingertips brushed across his bruised cheeks and his cut lips, needing to feel him to believe that he really was there. And Tony let her, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked into her beautiful blue eyes and watched her soul fill her bones again, the sparkle surging back into her face and the warmth to her hollow cheeks, life returning to her cold heart.

"Tony..."

Her voice was barely a whisper but Tony heard. He smiled with a heavy breath, nodding as he reached out and brushed a strand of golden hair away from her face, the white, shimmering wings suiting the angel he loved oh so perfectly.

"I'm back, honey."

She sobbed then, breaking entirely as she kissed him like she wished she'd kissed him before, longer, forever. Her fingers were light on his cheeks and his palms held the sides of her neck, thumbs brushing against her jaw as he kissed her back, both of them breathing sighs of relief into the moment.

Tony knew he had to break the kiss, having a stronger sense of reality in that moment that she did, but that didn't mean he wasn't burning up with desire to keep on kissing Esté forever. If he could, Tony absolutely would have.

"You're killin' it, Stella," he said, pressing a long kiss to her forehead and whispering the words with so much faith and honesty behind them as he held her blue eyed gaze, "Carry on showing them who's boss. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Ever."

an;;
I am CRYING we finally have some positivity!!!! I hope you don't hate me too much for all the sadness lmao, hopefully this chapter makes up for it!! Tysm for reading <3