Tony was in heaven. Whether it was the models with legs that didn't seem to end or the supply of free champagne that didn't seem to either, Tony Stark felt as though he was living through some kind of fever dream, a figment of his wildest imagination.

It was Christmastime and although Tony was usually adverse to attending parties since they were never as good as the ones he hosted himself, a personal invitation from Anna Wintour to the Vogue Christmas Party that holiday season was one he knew he couldn't ignore.

To no surprise, the event was hosted on the top floor of a building in upper Manhattan with a bar and private restaurant even Tony had never stepped foot in before. He was impressed by the impeccable silver service and timeless, sophisticated Christmas decorations that gave the place a festive feel, thin strings of green and red laced through an otherwise strictly black tie -looking occasion.

Windows overlooked the city and the East River as snow continued to fall, though rain from the previous two days meant that the water melted away any of the white attempting to cover New York that night, puddles reflecting the glowing holiday decorations strung between buildings and from department store windows.

He had attended the party that evening with Rhodey as his plus one, though the colonel had disappeared a considerable amount of time ago by that point. Tony wasn't worried, however, knowing that he was probably tied up with the hot blonde he'd spent the entire dinner staring at across their table.

Polished up to the nines in an expensive Brioni tux and bow tie, Tony had caught the eye of a steady stream of beautiful women that evening, all of whom made conversation about his Cartier cuff links and Patek Philippe watch, though barely listened to anything he said until he offered to top up their champagne.

Of course, Tony wasn't particularly interested in talking about those things either, though he did get a kick out of making women blush with complements and a tactical narrowing of his eyes, a tug of a smirk on his lips or a lowering of his tone, seduction slipping into their conversation easier than day slipped into night.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, I'll be back in a moment." Tony said, rising to his feet and gesturing to the empty champagne glass in his hands, "While I'm gone, I'll be thinking of a number between one and five. Why don't you try guess what it is?"

"Don't be too long," one of the women said, a pretty red-head in a white dress who was sipping on a glass of Merlot.

"We'll be waiting," the other winked, a glamorous blonde with a dazzling smile and heels higher than the building they were in.

Once his back was turned, Tony let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, almost laughing to himself in disbelief as he made his way across the room.

He'd never been short of attention from women, though that particular evening had been nothing shy of a frenzy, at least that's what it had felt like to Tony, barely having a moment to speak to anybody he actually knew before his head was turned by another sweet hello from a new face.

After taking a detour to the bathroom, Tony headed towards the bar, a fire inside his stomach from the excitement of the evening that he would absolutely continue to fuel without regret.

He stopped in his tracks when a woman stood alone grabbed his focus, forcing him to tilt his head and squint ten meters ahead of him, wondering whether he was seeing clearly or if he'd had far too much alcohol that his mind had started playing tricks on him.

"Martini please, make it dirty."

The party was loud and conversations were infiltrating Tony's ears from every direction possible, though the sound of her voice was unmistakable, and so were the direction of his footsteps immediately afterward.

"Make that two," he said, sliding twenty dollars to the bartender in a white tux as he rest an elbow on the bar, turning with a grin, "Don't mind the company of an old friend, do you?"

Tony watched as realisation settled across her face, the widening of her eyes followed by the breaking of a cold resting expression that melted into a sparkling smile and red cheeks.

"Anthony Stark," she said, shaking her head in happy disbelief while still holding her smile, "I can't believe it."

It appeared as though the girl he'd grown up with from as young as he could remember hadn't changed at all, besides her cheeks hollowing out and her jaw appearing stronger than his own, her dark blonde hair falling almost brown in the dim light. She had the same bright smile and sleek blue eyes that reminded him of the sky, full lips he knew half the women in the room would've paid for and an adorable upturned nose that he was sure she probably still hated just as much as she did when they were eleven.

"Estélla Goldwyn," he mused with a raised brow, tension making the two of them pause before she reached her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm embrace, his lips kissing her cheek and arms squeezing her waist tightly, "It's been what, fifteen years?"

Pulling apart, Esté shrugged and quickly thanked the bartender for their drinks before turning back to Tony, "Something crazy like that, what the Hell are you doing here?"

"I could say the same thing to you, last I heard you were living in Italy."

Esté gave a playful roll of her blue eyes, "Do you read Vogue, Tony?"

"No, never. I saved Anna Wintour's penthouse from getting blown to smithereens in September and apparently that warranted an invitation. I'm hoping I get an invite to the Met Gala next year."

The amusing seriousness of Tony's voice hadn't changed since Esté had last heard it. His teasing humour and dry tone gave him an edge that not everybody understood, but the world seemed to adore anyway.

Knowing what she knew about Tony, it wasn't a surprise for Esté to notice the expensive watch and signet ring on his little finger, catching a glimpse of the red soles of his shoes, too. He was flashy in a way that gave him a reputation that proceeded him, perhaps slightly differently to her own, though Esté liked to believe deep down he was still the same boy she'd known since they were toddlers.

"That explains that," she chuckled, "I'm on the cover of this month's edition, that's why I'm here."

Embarrassment turned Tony's face red for a split second, feeling suddenly like a terrible friend for not knowing something some monumental about his friend.

Despite fifteen years apart, neither Tony or Esté had really spent those days without sparing a thought to the other. Tony was constantly on the news whether it was for saving the world or for something more scandalous, and Esté had skyrocketed to become one of the highest paid supermodels in the world, leaving a small trail of broken hearts in her path from failed relationships and rumoured flings.

Not for lack of trying elsewhere, Tony always found himself drawn back to New York, even if it wasn't work that dragged him there. The city had always been his home and regardless of the palm trees and glamour that California offered him, it was Manhattan his heart felt most at peace in.

Esté had missed the city too. Moving to Switzerland at the age of seventeen had been one of the bigger transitions in her life, though every city her family moved to after that became a slightly easier change to deal with. They spent months in Vienna and Stockholm, London and Oslo, too, though a relationship with a football star had made Milan her home for the past six years.

"Makes a lot of sense," Tony nodded with a smirk, "Though what doesn't make sense is why you didn't decide to call me considering you're back in New York."

Esté narrowed her eyes and brought her drink to her lips, taking a small sip, "And how many times have you been in Milan in the past six years without calling me, Tony?"

Tony kissed his teeth and his long pause admitted to his defeat, "Touché. How is your boyfriend, any how? Giovanni Cor..Cara..."

"Corrone," Esté corrected with a knowing look.

"That's it. I don't keep up with soccer, my bad."

She sighed heavily though no emotion passed through her face, "We split in May, actually. I'm still living in Milan but he got a transfer to a team in Munich. There's no bad blood, I think we just ran our course, you know?"

"Yeah, totally," Tony lied, nodding with compassion as if he had the slightest understanding of the feeling Estélla was talking about, "How are your parents? You spending the holidays with them?"

Esté flashed her eyes sarcastically with raised brows before laughing to herself, "They're in Melbourne, as it goes. My father has some business there and they'll be out there till February at the earliest. I don't particularly fancy the flight across so I'll probably stay home or fly to London, I have some friends over there."

Tony smiled to himself. It was almost an incomprehensible difference in the lives they both led compared to when they had last spoken. They'd gone from children to adults in what felt like the blink of an eye and it was hard for Tony to grasp the fact that the girl who was afraid of jumping off the dock into the lake was owning runways across the world with her face on billboards and magazines.

He'd made his own life and built his own achievements, sure, but it made Tony happy to know that the quiet, shy kid he'd spent summers with in the Hamptons had truly found herself, remembering days when they talked about their futures on the beach or in her father's car and wondered what it would all come to.

"Why don't you stay in New York? Spend the day with me at my place. We've got fifteen years of gossip to catch up on, after all." He offered with a shrug and a genuine smile, knowing that he too would more than likely be alone on Christmas Day.

Esté's eyes lit up for a second, a mirage of perfect blue that sparkled with wonder and a hint of temptation, a break in the form of finishing her drink while she pondered her mind on what to say promoted Tony to do the same.

"You know what, maybe I-"

"We found you."

The two girls Tony had been sitting with earlier appeared seemingly out of thin air, neither he or Estélla noticing anything going on around them as they fell deeply under the wraps of their own conversation.

"So this is where you've been hiding, hm?" The blonde girl snaked her arm through Tony's and looked Estélla up and down, a patronising smile on her lips that was rather ironic since Esté had never even seen either of their faces before, let alone on the cover of Vogue.

"Was the number you were thinking of three, by any chance?"

Esté's eyes widened with a muted smirk playing on her lips, an uncomfortable silence lingering for a few seconds as Tony's mouth fell open slightly, words struggling on the end of his tongue though not managing to speak a single one for the embarrassment that had consumed him in that moment.

"Esté Goldwyn is that you? Over here, come on!"

Esté turned to glance over her shoulder, slightly relieved to see a familiar face waving her over to his group with a welcoming smile, a host of other celebrities she knew well and was fond of, rather than the bitter hostility laced within the eyes of two young girls clinging to Tony's arms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from your...conversation," Esté laughed awkwardly, "I'll leave you guys to it. It was great to see you again, Tony."

"Hold on, hold on. Esté, it's not like-" Tony reached out and took a step forward in attempt to rectify the humiliation and the offer it felt like she was about to accept, only for his eyes to widen in shock as he caught sight of who it was that had called Esté over to him, making him completely lose his train of thought, "You know Mick Jagger?"

Esté just smirked, placing her empty glass down on the bar as her hair fell over her left shoulder, teasing him as she replied, "You don't?"

Nothing more was said as Tony stood defeated, watching the walk that had earned Estélla fame and millions of dollars stride away from him and over to a rockstar, hips swaying as the slit from her floor length dress flashed her bare legs beneath.

Tony was used to being number one. He was used to having all the attention and all the flattery, interest and admiration, though it seemed like he'd almost stepped into another world that night that he didn't quite understand, and had it not been for Estélla, he wouldn't care to.

For the first time in his life, Tony Stark felt inferior.

an & disclaimer;;
ahhh another new story!! I really couldn't help myself from writing another Tony book so I really hope you guys aren't bored😭 I'm SO excited to write this you have no idea!! There's something about writing powerful female OCs that I'm obsessed with and I'm already in love with Estélla!!

As usual, this story will not follow on from any specific timeline within the MCU, so just assume everyone is alive unless stated otherwise. I'll be including some real world celebs in this book too here and there, but Estélla, her family and the boyfriend mentioned in this chapter are all fictional!!

I hope you enjoyed this little intro, I'll be updating again soon so keep an eye out!! Thank you all so much for your support and comments, it really means the world!!<3