Chapter Text
“Whenever you’re ready, Tony,” Ned says.
Tony shoots him a thumbs up and goes back to looking over his speech, sounding out the emphasis in his mind. He’d insisted on writing the speech himself, just as he’d written the entire album on his own, but he can’t help but wonder now if it’s too juvenile. The few reviews for his third album calling him childish and immature for airing out old grievances still sting despite his attempts at ignoring them. He’d crafted the speech in keeping with the themes of the album—he’s standing on his own two feet, proud and unafraid to say what he feels—but maybe he should’ve gotten another writer to take a look at the speech.
Or maybe he should stop worrying about it because the people coming to the Speak Now tour are his fans and not the people who are determined to hate him no matter what he does.
…Yeah.
Easier said than done. Everyone likes to feel liked, Tony included. He’s getting better about ignoring all the shitty comments about his music and how he acts and how many people he dates, but it’s never a good feeling when he realizes that an interviewer doesn’t like him.
And now he’s overthinking it again.
He shakes his head. The entire point of Speak Now is that he’s taking control of the narrative. He’s not letting things happen to him anymore, and that includes this speech. These are his words, he worked hard on them, and he’s proud of them. It wouldn’t be genuine if they were someone else’s.
“Whenever I’m ready?” he calls back to Ned.
“Yep!” Ned spins in his chair, twirling his finger to indicate the studio. “Mr. Stane made sure we had this place for the whole day.”
“The whole day?” he checks. “Aren’t there other people who could be using this space?”
Ned shrugs. Tony gets it; it’s not Ned’s place to worry about if someone got kicked out of this booth so he could record a quick two minute speech. It’s not really Tony’s place either—Obie and the building managers decide who gets booth space and when—but he worries about it anyway. He already has enough feuds with Aldrich, even if that barely counts since they’ve both (mostly) moved on from it. He doesn’t want to add another.
“Well,” he says fatalistically. Nothing he can do about it now. “Let’s get this knocked out of the park so we can open up the space for someone else.”
“Like I said, boss, whenever you’re ready.”
Tony nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “Real life is a funny thing sometimes.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I think a lot of us are afraid of reaching the ends of our lives and looking back and wishing we’d done things differently. We regret the moments when we didn’t speak up. When we didn’t say ‘I love you.’ When we should’ve said ‘I’m sorry.’ There’s a time for silence, of course, and there’s a time for waiting your turn, but there’s also a time when, if you know how you feel and you know exactly what it is that you have to say, then you just know it. And when that time comes, then I don’t think you should wait.
“I think you should speak now.”
They’d already been in rehearsals for the tour for a month before Speak Now even released. T’Challa, once again managing his tour, and Obie had wanted to capitalize on the success that they predicted the album would bring in and launch the tour as soon as possible instead of waiting like they did with Fearless so that they can move this out of the theater range and into a full-blown arena tour, complete with a couple stadium performances.
All things considered, they’re probably lucky that Speak Now is a success and they’re not just wasting their money on a tour that won’t fill all the seats. But the Speak Now tour sold out within a day of ticket sales opening for all one hundred and ten dates, including for the few stadiums that Tony will be performing at.
Tony is as excited for this one as he’d been for Fearless. It’s not his first tour, no, but he’d gone even bigger for this one: more costumes, more songs, bigger production. Fearless was an elementary school’s Christmas production compared to the stops they’re pulling out for Speak Now. He has an entire strings section backing up Back to December and aerialists for Haunted and Sparks Fly, and Jules, the dance captain and choreographer for the entire show, is a trained ballerina who’ll be performing during Enchanted. When Tony had first sat down with Jules, T’Challa, and Obie, he’d told them that he was inspired by the theatricality of Broadway, and they’d worked hard to make his visions come true.
“Tony, hi!”
He waves back at Giancarlo, the fashion designer he’s working with for the show. There are a hundred and ten performances on the tour, and unlike with Fearless, where he’d contented himself by creating unique shows not only through his costumes but also through his song choices, for Speak Now, Tony had wanted enough costume variations that every single performance would have a unique costume set. It’s meant a lot of work for the costumers, but Giancarlo had assured him they were more than up to the task. Giancarlo is relatively new to the industry, but his star is rising fast and he has his pick of assistants to help him put together the outfits for the show. Tony had been lucky to nab him when he knows he’d had offers from much larger stars.
“We have put together quite the spread for you,” Giancarlo assures him, throwing a companionable arm around Tony’s shoulders as he leads him back to the studio they’re keeping Tony’s costumes in.
“Yeah?” Tony says excitedly. He’s his Mama’s child in this way. She’s always loved fashion and taught him an appreciation for what a good outfit could do from an early age: armor, flirtation, a statement. “I’m looking forward to what you’ve got.”
“Nina is showing Jules the costumes for the dancers, but for you, we took a look at your setlist and where you wanted costume changes to occur. We have a mix of masculine and feminine but all omega. Now, you’re using scent manipulation, if I remember correctly?”
“Yep,” Tony says, smiling to hide his unease. He hadn’t minded using the scent manipulation on the Fearless tour, assured that plenty of other artists were doing it. But for Speak Now, an album and concert about speaking his truth, he feels a little more uneasy about. Obie, however, had insisted on it, and Tony had ultimately caved. He might be more confident in this industry after four years, but Obie still has decades on him.
“Well, it took some doing, but we were able to get your one hundred and ten possibilities. Let’s see what you think.” Giancarlo winks at him and opens the door.
The studio is a riot of color, reds and golds and purples bursting out from every corner. Just as Giancarlo had promised, there’s a mix of dresses and pants scattered throughout the room. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and Tony feels his breath catch, satisfaction filling his chest. He hasn’t even been shown anything yet, and he can already tell that what’s been put together is absolutely perfect.
“For your first set, you said you wanted to make a statement, so we wanted to go with something glittery,” Giancarlo says, steering him over to the first rack. “And we thought it would be a nice nod to your first album and the colors you favored back then.”
“Gold!” Tony exclaims, delighted by the three fringe dresses he sees hanging there, all in shades of gold. “My favorite color.”
“And here I thought you said in your interview that your favorite color was sparkles,” Giancarlo says amusedly.
“What, it can’t be both?” Tony winks at him.
“My mistake.” He laughs. “We have three different variations for you: a solid gold, solid bronze, and an ombré between the two. Then for your second set—” He drags Tony over to the next rack—"we wanted to go with something more rustic and down-to-earth. These are your most country songs, you said, so we chose overalls and a red plaid shirt, no variations here.”
“My second favorite color,” Tony informs him, fingering the soft fabric of the shirt. It’s thin enough that it shouldn’t be too hot under the stage lights, though he’s looking forward to rehearsing with it.
“Then you have the piece at the piano. For this one, we were inspired by some of the old photos of you when you were younger at your mother’s galas. We designed three blouses in pastels—purple, blue, and green—to be paired with white suit pants.”
The shirts are very pretty, the colors reminding him of winter and light reflecting off of freshly fallen snow. He nods, pleased with them.
“For Better Than Revenge, we wanted to doll you up a little. It’s a sexy song, reminding your lover of what they lost when they cheated on you, so we wanted to show that it’s not all ballgowns and innocence. Revenge is best served cold, but anger is red, so we put you in a red crop top and daisy dukes.”
“Ooh,” Tony coos, glancing over the shirt. It ties in the front, and he can just imagine how it’ll gleam under the stage lights.
“For the most part, your next set doesn’t have any variations, so we went with this purple dress to reflect the colors of the album. I suspect it’ll wind up being your most iconic look from the tour for all its simplicity. There’s something about it that speaks to the album’s themes.”
Looking at it, Tony would agree, but—“You said ‘for the most part’ there aren’t any variations?”
“There’s one,” Giancarlo allows. “We were inspired by the yellow dress you wore for Mother’s Day during Fearless. When you told us that you would be doing surprise songs during this set, and we realized that one of your concerts would be on Mother’s Day, we designed a version in yellow. We thought that would be the only time you wore it.”
Tony looks at the yellow dress, wondering if they’d known that they’d chosen Maria’s favorite shade of yellow (which also happens to be her favorite color). He nods, feeling a little choked up. He’ll be in Japan for Mother’s Day this year and has no idea if his mom will be there or if she’ll wait until he’s in New York, but he likes the idea of honoring her through this dress.
“It’s perfect,” he manages.
Giancarlo smiles gently at him. “Good. Now, then, for Enchanted, we’ve done a gown—we did one for the last set as well, but this one is more slender, more svelte as it may be. More contemporary, if you like. We went with three color variations on this one: cream, gold, and silver.” Tony just nods, still thinking about the yellow dress, so they move on to the next rack. “Haunted only gets one outfit, this tattered red dress. I think you’ll like the illusion of ruined finery that we’ve gone with, the beading on the corset and the stays falling down the back.”
Tony wrenches his mind back to the present. Plenty of time to think about if either of his parents will be attending his shows later. For now, he owes Giancarlo, his team, and the hours of work they’ve put in his full attention.
“Yeah, that’s good,” he says, running his hand over the beads. He likes how they feel under his hand. He can imagine playing with them before the set starts.
“Then, for the last songs on the main setlist, we chose another callback to Fearless in this sequined black romper. And last, but not least, for Love Story, as I said, we designed another ballgown, but this has a much fuller skirt. This one has four variations as opposed to the usual three, coming in a cream, silver, blue, or purple color.”
Tony does some quick math in his head and frowns. “That only adds up to a hundred and nine variations.”
Giancarlo grins at him. “They told me you didn’t miss a trick. You’re right, it does. We wanted to do one last outfit for Love Story that you would wear on the last night of the show, a kind of preview to your next album with some hints about your next direction.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing with my next album.”
“Of course not! That’s why we have another nine months to work on it.” Giancarlo’s smile turns distinctly wolfish. “Now, then. Which one do you want to try on first?”
You put your eyes on me
Tokyo now, capture it, remember—
He stops, hitting a discordant note on the ukelele. “Hang on,” he calls to the sound techs. “That’s not working. Can you give me like five minutes to work through this?”
“Sure thing, Tony,” one of them calls back to him, giving him a thumbs up. “Alright, guys, take five!”
Tony strums over the chords again, mouthing different lyrics to himself. He’d wanted to do something with calling out the location he’s performing in during the song and specifically during this bit since it feels like he’s asking them to remember tonight and their concert, but he’s having trouble making the shorter city names fit in the cadence of the song with their fewer syllables.
“Tokyo, Japan, now—” He groans and thumps his head back against the set piece.
“What about Tokyo now, can you capture it, remember it?” Natasha suggests, walking over to join him. She and the rest of the band have this song off since he’s performing it acoustically on the ukelele with just the in-ear to keep the beat for him. They’ve been taking advantage of their free time by joining him around the b-stage, which is nice of them. Obie had pulled some strings to get them time in one of the arenas around Nashville so he can work with the new stage, and it’s great for the rehearsals, but it can feel eerie performing to an empty auditorium.
He hums thoughtfully and sings it out loud, nodding with satisfaction when it works out much better. “Thanks for the suggestion,” he says. “What brings you to my corner of the stage? I know it’s not just my winning personality and stellar ukelele strumming.”
Natasha shoots him a look. “Don’t act like you aren’t leagues better than most of those youtubers strumming on their ukeleles to whatever vaguely folksy pop song they can think of.”
“In fairness to them, I am also strumming to whatever vaguely folksy pop song I can think of,” Tony points out. He’d chosen to mash Fearless up with a couple other songs that are popular right now and sound good being acoustically performed on a ukelele. “But true. At least I can play a recognizable tune.”
“Yeah, I like that you’re playing the melody to Hey Soul Sister but singing Fearless,” Natasha agrees, plopping down on the stage next to him. “I never thought you were a bad guitar player, but that’s a step up.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I think. You’re still not telling me what’s going on with you.”
Natasha gives him an amused look. “Alright. I’ve been playing fiddle for you for five years, including the Sakura Street tour.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“By the end of this tour, I’ll have been playing for you for six years.”
“Yeah,” he says again, drawing out the word as he tries to figure out where this is going.
“I’ve seen some of the songs that you’re working on for the new album—”
“Hey now, Speak Now’s only been out for a month. I’m not working on a new album,” Tony protests because everyone (but especially Michaela, the dancer he’s currently dating) says that he’s a workaholic who can’t even let an album rest on its laurels before he’s working on the next one.
She levels him with a look. “You are, and we all appreciate the job security. Anyone who says you shouldn’t should consider dating someone else if they can’t appreciate that this is your job.”
This isn’t the first time that someone has said that he can do better than Michaela, but for the first time in his life, Tony is trying this thing where he dates people for fun instead of trying to find something serious, and Michaela is fun and good in bed, so he’s willing to let it go for a little longer before cutting ties.
“That’s not my point, though,” Natasha continues, waving her hand dismissively.
“Alright, so what’s your point?”
“My point is that I’ve seen the songs you’re working on, and you can’t tell me that you’re still trying to make a country album with those. For that matter, half the songs on this album only barely count as country—and I saw the ones that you cut entirely.”
“I—” She gives him another look, and he shuts his mouth. Thinks about it. Rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and says, “Okay, yeah, um. I just… People seemed kind of receptive to the new stuff on this album, and I thought it might be nice to try more of that? And then I saw those reviews that said I should stick to making country music because not everyone can cross over to pop music, and that just felt like a challenge, you know?” He winces because he does see where this is going now, and he never meant to make her feel like she no longer had a place with him. She’ll always have a place with him, even if she’s playing something other than the fiddle. “Are you mad?”
She shrugs. “You should have talked to me about it first. But I’m glad you’re taking it in that direction.”
He frowns. “You are?”
“Tony, when we’re touring, I feel like I never get to see my sister,” she says, sighing. Her hands twitch helplessly in her lap, a sure sign that she feels very strongly about this. Natasha is always in control of her body. “I’m missing watching her grow up. I hate to say this, but I think I’m ready to put the fiddle down and find something else to do with my life.”
“Nat—” He pauses, searching for the right thing to say—“I had no idea you feel like that.”
“I never said anything.”
“But we’re supposed to be friends,” he argues. “I should have noticed something was going on. I’m sorry. We’ll miss you, obviously, but you gotta do what you gotta do.” He nudges her shoulder. “Any thoughts about what you’ll do next?”
She smiles at him. “I should’ve known you’d get it.” She hums. “We’ve been talking about moving east. I might see what opens up there.”
“Well, whatever it is, you’ll be magnificent,” he tells her and kisses her cheek.
Since the opening night of the tour is in Singapore, not the states, they meet at the airport instead of the studio’s bus lot. Tony had once again requested the use of the Stark Industries’ private jets, but he’d been told those weren’t available so instead, they’re paying for several chartered jets, which are, Tony is delighted to see when he gets to the tarmac, emblazoned with a purple nose.
“In honor of your tour,” his pilot says.
“Thanks,” he replies, genuinely touched.
He looks around, checking on who’s here and who isn’t. Wanda is opening for him again (along with a whole slew of other performers but only once they get back to the states; overseas, it’s just her), and he smiles brightly at her, waving. She hasn’t found the same success that either he or Carol have, so he feels a little bad seeing her again, but he can’t deny the relief he feels at not having to get to know and get used to someone new.
“Alright, let’s load up!” Ana orders to the assembled group, taking charge. “No more dawdling!”
Tony gestures for Michaela to join him and his band on his plane, but she firmly marches towards the one the dancers have claimed instead. Things haven’t been tense, exactly, between them since they were never serious in the first place, but he’s been thinking that they’re probably right at about the point of going their separate ways. This just proves it in his mind.
That’s alright. He’s more than capable of having fun with his bandmates instead. Clint brought boardgames, forgetting that they were taking a plane, so he’s looking forward to seeing if they manage to keep all the pieces and how far the ones they’ll inevitably lose get.
“Hey there,” Steve says companionably as he drops into the seat next to Tony. “This one open?”
“Even if it wasn’t, you’re already sitting there,” Tony teases, shoving at him playfully.
Steve suggests, “I could move.” But he’s wiggling his butt to get more comfortable, so Tony just rolls his eyes and shoves at him again, undoing his hard work. “I see Michaela isn’t joining us today?”
“Yeah, I think that relationship’s run its course,” Tony says easily, settling back in his seat.
“I’m… sorry?” Steve asks, wrinkling his brow. “I think? You don’t sound too cut up about it.”
“That’s because I’m not,” he says lightly. Steve’s brow furrows again. “I’m trying something new called ‘casual relationships.’”
“You’re trying casual relationships?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Plenty of people do casual.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “Plenty of other people. Not really something you do, though.”
“That’s why it’s something new.”
“Uh-huh. And it’s working out okay for you?”
“Well, I’m not crying about Michaela wanting to spend a twenty-one hour flight with the other dancers instead of me, so.” He shrugs, looking out the window as they taxi down the runway.
He can feel Steve looking at him, but he’s not going to make it easy on him. After the breakup with Sunset and then recording Mean together, they’re in a much better place, not quite so stepping on eggshells around each other. But a better place still isn’t the same thing as perfect, and Tony can’t quite shake that feeling that Steve is judging him and his relationships. Steve is his friend; he’s entitled to his opinions about the people Tony dates (and most of the people in his life have plenty of opinions), but there’s something about Steve’s judgement that makes it cut deeper. He wants Steve to like the people he dates, and it really sucks when he doesn’t.
“You know,” Steve says quietly after they’ve been in the air for a while, “there’s nothing wrong with wanting serious relationships. It’s part of what makes your music so incredible.”
“I’m twenty,” Tony says staunchly. “I’m supposed to be going out and having fun. There’s nothing fun about trying to settle down.”
Steve makes a noise like he doesn’t quite agree with that, but all he says is, “Don’t let other people tell you what you’re supposed to be doing. There’s no shame in feeling things strongly.”
“Feeling things strongly is what got me into trouble with Sunset,” Tony hisses, resolutely staring out the window. Steve sucks in a breath next to him, and he winces. He’s said too much, admitted that it all ties back to Sunset and how she made him feel.
“Tony—”
“If you say anything about Sunset or Bucky,” he warns.
“I wasn’t going to,” Steve says hastily. Tony finally looks at him, unable to keep a fond smile off his face at the way Steve is holding up his hands in surrender. “I was just going to say that what Sunset did to you was terrible, but you shouldn’t let her dictate the course of your life. If you want something serious with someone—” He places his hand comfortingly on Tony’s knee—“you should go for it.”
“And are you taking your own advice, Steve?” Tony asks, sidestepping the question. He’s not ready for that kind of self-reflection. “I’ve known you for years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you date anyone.”
Steve shrugs, glancing away. “I’m trying to,” he says softly. “Just not sure it’s working.”
“Well, they’re an idiot, then,” Tony tells him. “You’re a catch.”
Steve looks back at him and smiles, squeezing his knee. “Thanks, Tony. Means a lot coming from you.”
Tony does his own makeup for the shows and has since the Fearless tour. He’d taken lessons from a makeup artist for a different performer so he knew how much to layer on to make his makeup stand out on stage (and not run later in the show). It’s not as much as an actor would use for a stage show—he wants to stand out, yes, but it’s not that important that everyone sees every single microexpression—but it’s still a decent amount.
He always does his makeup with Sharon, Natasha, Clint, and Scott (their alpha, male bandmates are lucky that their makeup is minimal in comparison) while the others mill around elsewhere backstage doing whatever pre-show rituals they do. But for whatever reason, for this first show, everyone has clustered together in his dressing room, talking and laughing as they listen to the crowd chant and holler above them.
He doesn’t know why, but everyone seems much less nervous tonight than he remembers them being before the first night on the Fearless tour. Maybe it’s that they already have a successful headlining tour under their belt. Maybe it’s that they’ve already seen the success that Speak Now has through sales and the charts. Maybe it’s just that the pressure feels like it’s been taken off of them because Tony already has a fanbase who adores him, so there’s no need to prove their worth to them. Maybe it’s all three of those reasons together.
Whatever it is, the relaxed atmosphere lulls his own nerves. They’re not completely gone—and he wouldn’t want them to be—but he doesn’t feel as nervous as he had earlier that day. He’s got this. They’ve got this. It’s going to be an incredible concert, and tonight, they’ll have cake on the plane to celebrate a successful first night.
One of the stagehands pokes her head in and says, “Guys, t-minus five minutes.”
“Great, thanks,” Tony says, winking at her. “Alright, everyone, huddle up.” He waits until everyone is gathered around him. “I just wanna say—thank you. This was as much your effort as it was mine, and we wouldn’t be here without all of you.” He smiles at Natasha. “I know the last two years have been kind of rough, but we’re over that now, we’re looking forward, and we’re fearless.”
“Wrong tour!” Clint calls.
“Ah, right!” Tony says, grinning at him. “How could I forget? Alright, let me fast forward a year so we can catch up to this tour.” Scott snickers; Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, hands in, everyone. Tonight is going to be the best performance of our lives—”
“You say that every time!” Shang-Chi reminds him.
“And it’s true,” Tony counters. “We get better every single time. Let’s go out there and show them who we are and remind everyone why we should always, always—”
“Speak now!” everyone cheers, lifting their hands up.
From there it’s almost a blur: heading up the stairs, separating from everyone as they head off to their places, taking his place on the lift. He listens as his opening speech plays over the speakers, smirking to himself when he hears the cheers. He can picture the video in his mind, the sparkly purple letters scrawling across the screen in his own handwriting, emphasizing the points he’d wanted to make.
And then the music starts.
The lift rises.
He pauses there at the top of the ramp, posed, looking out at the crowd before the lights come up and blind him. There’s so many of them. He can see all the way to the back of the crowd when they hold up their glowing signs and glowsticks and phone flashlights, and it makes him feel a little choked up that they’re all here for him. He did this. Yes, all of his band working together, but it’s his words, his melodies, his voice that brought all of these people here tonight. His in-ear starts the countdown, and he raises the microphone to his mouth.
The lights come up.
He smirks.
Drop everything now!
And the sparklers go off as the crowd bursts into cheers.
The sparklers had been his idea. For their outdoor shows, they’ll be full fireworks set off behind the stage, but Tony had wanted something equally as dramatic for their indoor shows that didn’t come with the same fire hazard of fireworks—so sparklers. Big and golden and every bit as dramatic as he’d been hoping.
He stands there as his band plays the intro, moving into position on the main stage behind him, looking out over the crowd, unable to stop himself from giggling a little. For this show at Singapore Indoor Stadium, they sold a little under nine thousand tickets, which means that there are nine thousand people out there cheering for him tonight. Nine thousand people, so many that he can’t even hope to see them all but more than he ever dreamed of when he first decided he wanted to honor his mom’s legacy and make music instead of phones.
The way you move is like a full on rainstorm and I'm a house of cards
You're the kind of reckless that should send me runnin'
But I kinda know that I won't get far
He starts to strut down the ramp to the t-stage as he sings the rest of the verse, intensely staring directly in front of him (at nothing in particular, but he can imagine how good the visual looks to everyone watching).
And you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch
Close enough to hope you couldn't see what I was thinkin' of
Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain
He saunters to one of the ends of the t-stage as he sings the first part of the chorus. The crowd is so loud they almost drown out his in-ear, and he wants to cry, he’s so happy. The album’s only been out for a month and a half but these people know every single word already. It means so much to him to hear them sing these words back at him. He struts to the other end of the stage for the second half of the chorus, singing to the people over there now. There’s a little girl sitting on her dad’s shoulders about halfway back, and Tony waves at her, delighted to see her face light up.
Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down
Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around
'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile
Bruce and Scott (on a second guitar for this song) move up to the front of the main stage during the instrumental break between the chorus and second verse. Tony grins at them while he walks up to take his place between them for the first part of the second verse, though he sends them spinning at the end of the first stanza. The second verse is all about interacting with his band, letting them shine while he teases and flirts his way through them, making his way to the raised platform at the end just in time for the chorus. He sings part of the chorus there, flits his way to the platform on the other end of the stage for the next part, and then back down to the main stage for another instrumental break.
He rocks back and forth with Natasha, lets Steve spin him around during Clint’s solo, jumps up and down as Clint lifts his electric guitar over his head and plays to the adoring crowd. And just in time for the bridge, he’s strutting down the ramp back to the t-stage.
I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild
Just keep on keepin' your eyes on me, it's just wrong enough to make it feel right
And lead me up the staircase, won't you whisper soft and slow?
I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show
There’s a sense of awe that fills him as a hush falls over the crowd when the aerialists lower on their swings holding sparklers. This one hadn’t been one of his suggestions; one of the other dancers had suggested it instead when they’d overheard him, Jules, and T’Challa discussing what they wanted to do at this part. Their original plan had been to use the sparklers from the first chorus, but they’d run into an issue with them being too loud and drowning out his mic (and the inherent issue with setting any prolonged fire in an enclosed space). The dancer had been passing by, overheard their issue, and suggested using the same aerialists they use during Haunted later in the show. He’s so glad to see it land with the audience.
Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Drop everything now
Take away, take away the pain
Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Drop everything now
Take away, take away the pain
Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain
'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile
Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down
Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around
I see sparks fly whenever you smile
He rocks out during the instrumental outro, holding his hands out to the fans closest to him, tossing his head up and down in time to Clint’s playing, and flouncing from one end of the t-stage to the other. He makes his way back to the center just in time for Clint’s last riff, punching the air with the hand holding the microphone on the last note.
The crowd had never stopped cheering, but there’s a definite upswing in the noise as the music fades away. He holds his pose for a good ten seconds before lowering his hand and taking in the crowd. He’d done this for Fearless too, but all thoughts of his previous tour are completely wiped away just standing here looking out over everyone cheering for his third album.
Glancing back over his shoulder at where Steve is standing, he mouths an incredulous Oh my god. Steve mouths back at him, Right? He remembers sitting on the edge of a stage with Steve strumming his guitar next to him, helping him puzzle through lyrics for the very song they just finished singing. Who would have thought it would end here as the opening song of the tour?
He faces forward again and shakes his head, barely able to believe it. Tony isn’t someone who’s given to false modesty. He knows exactly how popular he is and how well-liked his songs are. But there’s knowing and then there’s seeing. And seeing that all these people already know the lyrics to songs six weeks old, seeing that they’re dressed up in costumes inspired by his songs or outfits he wore on the Fearless tour or in his music videos, seeing them jump up and down just because he smiled at them—it’s so much more than he ever imagined, and he has to giggle inanely to let the excitement all out.
The lights go down while he walks back up the ramp to the main stage. One of the stagehands is setting up the microphone stand for him, another one standing by with his guitar for the next song. The guitar is purple and sparkly and probably clashes horribly with his outfit but it matches the color of the album, and that’s what Tony cares about.
He takes his place in front of the microphone as the stagehand settles the guitar around his shoulders, takes a deep breath just before the lights come up, and sings.
Ah-ah, ah
The plane to Seoul is loud that night. None of them are even remotely tired, though Tony is sure they’ll all crash when they get to the hotel. They’re all too keyed up to sleep, buoyed from success of the concert. Speak Now is a hit. The first reviews are already rolling in, and they’re overwhelmingly positive. Clint, Scott, Thor, and Shang-Chi are reenacting their favorite moments from the tour at one end of the plane. Sharon and Bruce are reading off particularly nice bits from the reviews at the other end.
Tony is sitting in the middle with Ana, Steve, and Natasha, happily munching on cake now that the show is over and his stomach isn’t revolting against the concept of food. He’d skipped dinner, stomach roiling too hard from the nerves, and though Ana had greeted him backstage with sushi, it’s nothing compared to the cake Scott’s wife had baked for them for the simple fact that Scott’s wife had baked it for them.
Tony has met Maggie many times, and he adores her. As a beta, she’s good for Scott, bringing him back down to earth and reminding him that he can’t just follow whatever idea has struck him this time. He’s pretty sure they’ve got something going on with that alpha cop, Paxton, who has a patrol route that goes by their house, but that’s none of his business. Even if there is something going on there, historically, triad relationships were much more common than alpha/omega duos anyway because they were thought to be more stable. If Paxton makes Scott and Maggie happy, then Tony is happy with him too.
“You looked like you were having fun tonight,” Steve comments, taking a sip from his water because he’s a boring person who drinks boring water instead of the any other fun drinks they have on board (Tony is drinking water too, but that’s because he has to take care of his health and voice, not like Steve who’s drinking it because he likes it… it’s possibly Tony is a little punch-drunk).
“I have fun every night,” Tony counters. He thinks about it and amends his thought. “On tour.” Because there are definitely a few nights in his life that were not fun at all, not even a little bit.
Steve raises an eyebrow knowingly. Tony shrugs, carefully not thinking of all the songs he’d written after breaking up with Sunset but hadn’t used. There are enough of them that he could probably fill an entire album just with songs about how much he hates her and how much he never wants to end up in that place again.
“When Tony started ringing the bell!” Clint shouts from the back of the plane.
“Oh! And when he started playing Picture to Burn acoustically!” Scott agrees.
“Yes!” Thor exclaims. “’Tis my turn! I enjoyed it when the dancers were doing the conga line at the wedding!”
Tony grins into his cake. He knows how much his team loves him—he loves them just as much in return—but it’s always great to hear how much they liked something he came up with, not that he can take credit for the conga line. When he commented about it to Jules during one of the costume changes, she’d told him it had been a spur of the moment decision that the dancers made onstage to keep the attention of fans further away who might not care that Tony was walking through the crowd to the b-stage.
“’Tony Stark has a global appeal that can hold the attentions of kids and their parents, teenage girls and their boyfriends, circles of friends, foreigners, and local celebrities all in one venue without isolating anyone or seeming offensive,’” Bruce reads off of his phone.
“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Sharon says.
Natasha says wryly, “You’re like the cat that ate the canary, the cream, and the fish for dinner.”
“What, I can’t be proud that we had a good show?” he asks innocently.
“Pride is a sin.”
“And diligence is a virtue,” he shoots back.
“Ooh, point to Tony,” Steve says, wincing theatrically.
Natasha rolls her eyes. “Please. Like any of us are surprised that you’re taking his side.”
Steve shoots her a look that Tony doesn’t know how to read, which unsettles him. Steve is his best friend, arguably even closer to him than Rhodey or Pepper since he at least lives close by. He doesn’t like knowing that he has an expression that Tony can’t read, although if he didn’t know better, he’d say that he was warning her away from a topic of conversation because Tony can’t hear it, which is, obviously ridiculous. There are no secrets between him and Steve.
Whatever it is, they’re getting off track, and Tony is still too busy basking in the glow of his success to let it change just yet. “We worked hard,” he cuts in. “We deserve to know how that’s paying off.”
Natasha nods so seriously that he just knows she’s mocking him. Sure enough, her next question is, “So if I asked Bruce and Sharon to start reading the negative reviews…?”
“Don’t you dare!” he says immediately, swatting at her when she raises her hand to get their attention. “No! I don’t want to know if anyone didn’t like it!”
“Okay, okay!” Natasha laughs. She bats back at his hands. “Stop hitting me. I’d hate to have to get you back.”
And Tony, of course, can’t take that challenge lying down. He carefully puts his cake down so he can go back to it once he’s proven his superiority and launches himself at her.