Chapter 01, VERY BAD T.R.I.P.

December 17^th 1991. California, Stark Mansion.

Traumatic and

Revolutionary

Isekai’s

Personal's events.

He woke up with the worst hungover of his life, with no ideas or memories for how he could have drunk so much or where he got this acronym from. Drifting from his king-size bed to the adjoining bathroom, not looking at anything, his body in autopilot. Not noticing the space provided by this guy’s gigantic room, even bigger than his old apartment. He vaguely heard someone try to talk to him, something about getting the girls he was with home, or whatever.

What girls?

Not like he was a virgin, but he really didn’t know anything about a date late night, more so a double. Was his roommate steeling his girlfriend? Wait he didn’t had a girlfriend, and his roommate’s voice was weird, like older. And way less vulgar. The shower, helped, but barely, so high was the alcohol level in his bloodstream, or the confusion in his mind. Even if he was totally focused on the former.

How much did that guy drink?

Someone banged urgently on the bathroom door. The old guy’s voice from earlier. People were waiting for him in the lounge. Erh, since when did he even have a lounge?

Stop with the weird jokes pal.

He looked at his face while shaving, handsome, seductive, a strong body, dark brown hair and eyes. Just out of his teens.

Wait, teens? Was that one of this life-like dreams?

He went through his fortieth birthday last week. Did his roommate put something in the cupcakes? Fucking stoner, couldn’t he keep his shit to himself? Was he not happy to already “fumigate” the whole place with his “meditation’s medication”? Finally dry, he got out, grabbing something to put on from his bed, not realizing that it was put there for him. Ok, he must be dreaming, he never got clothes like that. No way it could get out of Walmart.

His feet glided on the stairs more than they walked, frightening me.

Was that marble? How much could this stairs weight? It even had a twin on the other side! Stop, don’t think about the weight, how much does it cost?

I didn’t know how he could do that without falling, only doing that on the couch.

Facing the nervous, agitated cops waiting for him, while an old butler stand behind him.

Was it the guy who prepared the clothes for him? Why am I seeing through his eyes? Did the corps catch my roommate? Wait, did he try to put the blame on me? He did try to give fliers with “free-samples” and his phone number at a time. The only reason the cops never got to him being he never checked when he wrote the damn number and mixed up their order...

“Sir, we’re from the Los Angeles Police Department” started the tallest one. As if that wasn’t visible from the uniforms and the golden LAPD badges.

Seem like we’re not in Vancouver anymore. Get out of my head Dorothy.

“Yes?” He said.

I really wanted to know what I was doing here. Who was this guy? Some kind of celebrity’s son? Were we in Hollywood? Please tell me they weren’t doing porn. Or worst, taking part in The Young and the Restless. His mom was addicted and he had to bear with it while working on his bachelor. It didn’t end well...

“Sir, it’s our duty to inform you that your parents’ crashed car was found early this morning before dawn.” Pursued the cop. His heart started to race in his chest.

“My parents?” I said.

How did mom get in a car? Did she get a wireless TV? Wait, could I talk now? And they said parents, as in both of them? Mom said she never wanted to talk to the bastard again. Did they found dad since he went out five minutes to buy “smokes” five years ago? They never bothered to before. I must be dreaming. Come on, is it a prank camera? No, they couldn’t make me see through some guy’s eyes. Back to the dream then. And what’s this place?

“Yes sir.”

“Where?”

No, wait, I’m not asking you where they were, I want to know where I’m. Why can’t I talk properly? Why do I feel his heart racing?

“They seamed to have had an accident on the road from here to the airport. I’m afraid they didn’t make it, sir. I sorry.” I sensed the old man tense silently behind me.

“Are you sure it was them?”

Great another question he asked in my place. What the hell is happening? My god, my heart is killing me. How could his heart give me pain?

“Their ID were found in their wallets, which helped identifying them. Howard Anthony Walter Stark and Maria Collins Carbonell Stark.”

“How...” the hell am I here? Ok, body I’M IN CHARGE, listen to me. I felt my heart broke apart.

“Tires tracks clearly showed they tried not to run over something, most possibly a stray animal.”

Wait, did you just say Howard and Maria freaking STARK?

“That’s not possible... It’s impossible... That’s not happening”. I answered his declaration, standing up at last. Not believing who I became right now.

Was it a dream? Maybe I was still drunk and hallucinated this whole thing. Where did I see this asshole roommate put his leaves and powder again? Did I take it by mistake?

“Unfortunately it has sir, we’re utterly sorry for your loss.” Said the young one, speaking for the first time.

I looked at him, then the other one. Turning to look at the Stark’s family butler behind me.

Jarvis.

Yes, that was his name. He kept using his name in an acronym.

My gaze kept going from one of them to another.

They didn’t... They couldn’t understand what I was feeling right now. The feeling of dread and sorrow in my chest that I got from him froze and burned my heart.

I ran, aimlessly, bumping everywhere, not caring for the things I crashed into, overthrowing them. Fleeing from the news I couldn’t face right now. I didn’t even hear when Jarvis thanked the two cops, showing them to the door. The two policemen agreeing to go out speedily, understanding in front of a show they were blazed to react to.

Denial. Grief first step. The usual from the relatives and friends. I wasn’t in denial for their deaths morons.

My drunken walk drove me to my bathroom, no ideas how, where I found myself puking what was left in my stomach as I didn’t get to eat breakfast. I shouldn’t have tried to get up right then, unsteady on my feet, an acid taste in my mouth, my legs couldn’t hold my weight, my eyes couldn’t focus properly on my surroundings.

Jarvis voice reached me.

“Are you alright master Stark?”

The last thing I saw was the wall my head crashed into as the incredible realization burst in my mind.

Traumatic and

Revolutionary

Isekai’s

Personal's events.

There you go, his weird and unique naming style at work.

“I’m Tony Stark.”

Meaning...

“I’m Ironman”.