Chapter Text
When my father went missing, I didn’t give a single shit about where he was or if he would be found soon. On the contrary, I hoped that he would disappear off the face of the planet, and his wife could disappear with him.
Though, sometimes Julie was fun, she knew how to have a good time. Eh, I didn’t care much.
I decided to have a party at the penthouse we kept in New York- it was in honor of his disappearance, but no one needed to know that. To the press, it was just Joe Glant being Joe Glant; throwing massive parties with way too much expensive booze and drugs and sex.
Everyone found it an “absolute marvel” -to quote a tabloid I walked past once- that Joe Glant was one of the top students at MIT, as well as head of the R&D department at Glant Corp.
I wouldn’t call it a marvel that I could bullshit my way through MIT and invent things without being sober, but go off, I guess.
So I did what I always do at parties. I got high, and a little drunk while I was at it, and I danced, and I winked at a cute girl, and then we had a good time in one of the bedrooms.
***
Two months later I had completed my first year at MIT, and they had found the bodies of one Theodore H. Glant and his third wife, Julie. It was confirmed that what was a suspected boating accident turned deadly while the two were out on their newly bought sailboat.
No foul play was reported, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if that was a lie. Not that I cared. Honestly, if I found the person that did it I might invite them for a drink, maybe buy them a car or something. But, it was a shame that Julie got roped into the mess, I kinda liked her.
I became official head of Glant Corp., not that I wasn’t already, but this made it official. And, because Glant Corp. was 100% family owned, I didn’t have to prance around some board that consisted of rich, idiot, assholes like Stark or Osborn had to. Essentially, I could do whatever the hell I wanted to do, which, I have to admit, was pretty great.
If u read the tabloids, or even turned on the goddamn news once in a while, you know how I celebrated. Booze. Choose a drug, any drug. Rave. Girl. Bedroom door opens. Bedroom door closes.
I dropped out of MIT because I didn’t need it. I had a company to run, and I didn’t need the excuse to be away from home anymore. College is a scam anyway, if you have something better to do.
***
Tony Stark wanted to partner with me. Tony fucking Stark. I mean, it wasn’t that hard to believe. It was a good move for the company, and it was partly Pepper Potts’ decision, I mean she is his CEO, but he specifically wanted to get a group from his R&D department to work with mine.
I know, I know, I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it and everything. But, come on, it was Tony fucking Stark. His work in artificial intelligence was… immaculate. And yeah the arc reactor and his other things are nice and stuff, but I’ve made my own amazing things. I have never gotten to the level of his AIs.
So, anyways, with that in mind and snorted some powder a “friend” recommended, and started tinkering with one of my projects.
And snorted some more.
And tinkered some more.
And snorted some more.
And did something absolutely brilliant in regards to science.
And snorted some more.
And passed out in pure happiness.
Ahh, pure bliss.
***
Press conferences fucking sucked. Press conferences while being hungover from crack, sucked more. But, I had experience, so it wasn’t that bad.
Marge, my PA, handed me an ashtray to deposit my cigarette in, as I downed an aspirin and some water. “Joey, they’re ready for you.”
“Thanks, Margie. Hey, can you go have someone buy me another pack while I’m talking? That was my last one.”
“God, you know you're gonna get yourself killed one day Joey?”
Maybe that’s the whole point.
I could see the true concern not completely masked by her seemingly calm demeanor.
“Yeah, yeah. Glad to know you're looking out for me sweetie, but I still want those cigarettes.” I snarked in a too-sweet tone as I adjusted my sunglasses. Hangovers are a bitch. “Plus, you know they are, by far, not the worst thing I’ve had.”
“Uhuh, sure Joey, sure, but that doesn’t make it any better.”
“Awww, will you miss me when I die from lung cancer?” I quipped.
“I expect to be in your will.”
“Of course, babygirl, and on my headstone it will say ‘could’ve lived, if only she’d have listened to Margaret Tanner’”.
“You know, I’ll actually put that, just watch me.” She laughed, as she turned to walk away.
“Aha! She can laugh! Eddy, give me ten dollars.”
“Fuck you, boss, I made no such agreement”. Eddy, my head of security stated behind me.
“Assholes”, Marge muttered as she walked away.
“Thank you sweetie!” I called after her before she turned the corner. “You know, some people would say that you shouldn’t talk to me that way Eddy”. I said as I turned to him.
“And I would tell them to go fuck themselves.”
“Right answer. And that, Eddy, is why you are my head of security. I keep you around for your bubbly personality.”
“You keep me around cause I roll joints even better than you, and I can do it while driving.”
“That too, that too.” I let out a small chuckle as I clapped him on the back. “Make sure Margie brings me my cigarettes, and make sure they’re Treasurer. Last time she got me fucking Marlboros cause she said all cigarettes were all the same.” I stuck out my tongue in disgust and grimaced. “That’s like saying all candy tastes the same”.
“The audacity!”.
“You know, they say too much sarcasm isn’t good for you.”
“They say the same thing about cocaine.”
“Touché.” Smirking, I conceded. Eddy always knew how to make me feel better, in our own weird way.
He glanced over at me, “Ready?”.
“Ready”, I stated, and Eddy threw the doors open a second later.
I was immediately bombarded by flashing cameras in every direction and people shouting questions trying to get my attention. I easily schooled my expression to my small smile that I dubbed my press-face (everyone had one, just look at Tony Stark) at seven years old, and walked passed them to the podium.
I was bred for this.
Clearing my throat, the vultures quickly quieted down.
“As you may have heard, my dear, departed father and step-mother have recently been confirmed dead.” I started with a solemn face, “Though the news is devastating, let it be known that I intended to uphold my father’s legacy, just as he would have wanted. Glant Corp. was his pride and joy, well, other than me of course,”
Pause for laughter, even though that joke was stupid, and a load of bullshit. But, people like it when you show emotions, albeit fake ones.
After they had quieted down again, I resumed: “and I intend to honor that. I will uphold the mantle, and lead Glant Crop on the path my father envisioned.” bullshit, “Furthermore, I would like to add that I hope the media understands that this is a personal loss,” bullshit “and respects the wishes of the Glant family during this tragic time.” tragic my ass “we would not like the funeral to be publicised”. The asshole doesn’t deserve a funeral in the first place. “Questions?”
And then the yelling started again. Example:
“Ms. Glant, over here!”
“Ms. Glant, will you be taking a period of mourning for your late father?”
“Joe! Joe look at the camera!”
“Ms. Glant, any comments on the party you attended two days ago?”
“Ms. Glant!”
“Ms. Glant, does your father’s late partner has made comment-”
Ooo, that’s a good one. By the way, you should know, my dear departed father’s late partner was one Joseph Quint. He was as much of an asshole as my father.
“My father’s late partner has nothing to do with this. Glant Corp. is no longer associated with him in any way, shape, or form.”
The reporter stands a little straighter and steps closer. “Kate Stacy from the Daily Bugle ma’am,” God, I fucking hate it when they call me ma’am. Or miss, or Ms.Glant. “Mr. Quint has made comments suggesting he should be the next head of Glant Corp., not you. Do you have anything to say about that.”
“Yes, you should stop listening to whatever bullshit Mr.Quint is feeding you. He is my father’s former business partner. Key word: Former. Not to mention he is currently facing a court case for his deep connection to a notorious child trafficking ring. Honestly, I don’t give a shit what Mr. Quint, has to say, and neither should anyone else. Next question.”
Yeah, the world didn’t know that Joseph Quint repeatedly raped his former business partner’s kid daughter starting from age 15, but at least he was getting it for child trafficking.
Then again, they also didn’t know that the girl’s father knew about it and didn’t do anything. He just beat her when he felt like it after.
To be honest, it was a stroke of luck, and one fucking good private investigator-now-turned-head-of-security (Edward “Eddy” Thompson) which was the reason that I was heading the company right now and not Joseph Quint. Eddy found him to be balls-deep in the trafficking ring (quite literally), and this time Theodore Glant couldn’t pull him out of it. He never planned to leave total control of the company to his dyke daughter that he beat when he felt like and whored out to his business partner, but, I guess he didn’t have much time to plan before shit hit the fan, and he died. So, good for me. Great, honestly.
There were a few more stupid questions, and a few more brilliant moments where my true acting skills were put on the spot. Eddy and Magie were probably sitting somewhere in the back enjoying the show and the complete and utter bullshit that I was feeding the press.
Ok, one more question, and then I’m leaving. I need another cigarette, and another aspirin.
“Is Glant Corp. going to form a tighter partnership with Stark Industries?”.
“Yes. Stark Industries has expressed their want to go deeper into clean energy, and considering the advancement we made with the solar Stark model 10GC last year, we can only go up from there. I hope this will be a stepping stone for a more intimate and prosperous relationship between Glant Corp. and Stark Industries. I think that’s all the time we have for questions, thank you”.
The vultures continued shouting, and I made puppy dog eyes as soon as I spotted Marge until she threw me my pack of cigarettes.