2014-03-25 - Cutscene: Stark Expo - Don't Let Me Down

It was the middle of the morning after the Wayne Enterprises presentation, and Harry Osborn was asleep. He didn't have any plans until after lunchtime, he had found an after party (a far more discreet one, thankfully), and hadn't made it back to his hotel suite until the sun's fingers were creeping over the horizon.

The evidence against him-- suit coat on the floor near the door, tie near it, shirt tossed over the back of a chair, pants and socks and shoes in a tumbled pile by the bed, rumpled hair, pinkish-red smears of lipstick on his cheek and neck, the sour smell of last night's mixed drinks-- is damning.

But oblivious to any impending doom, the young heir to Osborn sleeps, occasionally twitching as if some nightmare might threaten to drag him deep into a world of gliders and pumpkin bombs.

Norman is back in Malibu from the East Coast. His meeting had gone well, though his new team member’s resemblance to Spider-Man set him on edge. He was going to have to increase his dosage again if they were going to work together. Plus, Rusk was talking about adding a whole second team. More headaches, more problems.

He enters the suite leaving his staff behind him, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. He goes only so far before he stops. Harry wasn't up yet. He sets down the coffee cup and pulls out his phone and dials. "Miss Hand, I need you to run a data-search, I want to see if my son was making headlines again last night." Whatever the reply was he closes the phone tersely and then calls out "Harry!" waiting for his son to appear.

Harry awakens with a start, rubbing his eyes. "Dad?" he calls from the bedroom. "Oh sh--," he wakes up, half-falling out of bed as he scrambles for something besides boxers to pull on. He finds a pair of pajama bottoms and a muscle tank, which he hurriedly pulls on, mostly rubs the lipstick off his face and neck, and staggers barefooted and squinting out into the main room of the suite.

"Morning, Dad," he says with a smile thats more than half grimace. "Wasn't expecting you back so quickly."

"Clearly," Norman says as he recovers his coffee and looks his son over while he has a sip. "Are you alone?" he asks him and gestures at his son's cheek where the lipstick is smeared. "This is a family discussion and I'd rather not have one of your whores reporting it to the tabloids."

Blinking, Harry shakes his head. "No, Dad, just me." Great. He knew that tone. He pours himself a cup of coffee as well, wondering if room service would still send up breakfast.

And knowing better than to say anything about the possibility of breakfast at the moment.

"Good," Norman says sharply. He takes a sip of his coffee and crushes the cup before dropping it on a table for housecleaning to pick up. "So, do you have anything to say for yourself? The whole world is talking about how Stark and Wayne have secured their legacies, and when they talk about us, it's only to snicker about your tabloid antics, son. Is that what I built this company for? So you could make us a joke?"

"No, Dad," Harry replies, his eyes focusing on the table. On a spot on the table. "I know. I screwed up. I'm sorry." He knew an apology wasn't good enough. It never was. Nothing ever was.

"You're damn right you screwed up," Norman says as he walks across the room to grab his son's shoulder and turn him around. "Don't make it worse by looking away like a coward. You're an Osborn, you're better than that, or at least you should be."

He let's go of Harry's shoulder and begins to pace rubbing the bridge of his nose. "My project is almost complete, I just need 30 days, 30 days without any more screw ups, and I need this demonstration to go well. Miss Hand tells me there's already a lot of interest in your civilian version of the glider, so that's good at least, but we need to sell the rest of it too. I'm counting on you Harry," he turns sharply then pointing at his son. "Do /not/ let me down. It needs to be perfect."

"I won't, Dad," Harry promises. "It will be." He fights back the urge to swallow. He can't show fear any more than he can show desperation for Norman to be proud of him. Either emotion would just make things worse.

He is an Osborn. They do not fear anything. They do not accept no for an answer. They do not waffle, and they do not /need/ anyone.

Harry takes a deep breath, finding his grounding for a moment. "I will make sure it's perfect, Dad. Whatever it takes."