Capítulo 2: 2. Cracks and Dreams
I stood in the kitchen, the early morning light casting a soft glow over the table as I fidgeted with the permission slip in my hands. Oscorp. Even the name sent a small thrill through me. A field trip to Oscorp's cutting-edge genetics lab wasn't just another trip — this was an opportunity to see the technology I'd spent hours reading about and dreaming of working with. It was exactly the kind of place where someone like Tony Stark would make his mark.
Taking a steadying breath, I turned to Mrs. Brant — Elenore, as she liked me to call her. She stood at the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee, her kind face softened by a rare moment of calm before the day's usual chaos.
"Uh…Mrs. Brant? I mean, Elenore?" I held out the permission slip, willing my voice to stay steady. "Could you sign this? It's for a field trip. My science class is going to Oscorp."
She looked over, her expression brightening. "Oscorp? Well, that sounds like an amazing opportunity, Peter." She took the paper from me, reading it over before reaching for a pen. "I know how much you love science. You must be excited."
"Yeah, I am." I tried to keep the enthusiasm from spilling out too obviously. "It's a huge opportunity. You know, Oscorp is on the cutting edge of genetics and tech. This could be…you know, it could be something big for me."
She gave me a warm smile, signing the slip with a flourish. "I'm glad to see you looking forward to something, Peter. You've seemed…a little down lately." Her tone shifted, a hint of concern slipping into her voice. "Is everything okay at school? You can talk to me, you know."
I felt my chest tighten, the question hanging in the air like a weight. Mrs. Brant had been kind to me, offering me a place to stay after my parents died. But as much as I appreciated her, the idea of burdening her with my problems — the bullying, the constant feeling of being out of place, Flash's harassment — felt wrong.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I said quickly, pasting on a smile I hoped looked real. "Just, you know…keeping my grades up, focusing on getting into a good college."
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Are you sure? You've been looking so…well, so tired lately. If something's going on, you can tell me."
I looked down, avoiding her gaze. "It's nothing, really. Just…school is stressful, I guess. I want to keep my grades up, maybe get a scholarship. MIT would be…a dream."
She studied me for a moment, then nodded, a soft sigh escaping her. "Well, if you ever want to talk, Peter, I'm here. I know things haven't been easy for you lately, especially with…well, everything you've been through."
"Thanks," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the tension rising in my throat, the familiar ache of all the things I couldn't say. Changing the subject felt like my only option.
"I'll, uh…head out now. Don't want to miss the bus," I added, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I gave her a quick wave before slipping out the door, the permission slip tucked safely in my pocket.
…
The bus ride to Oscorp was a blur of excitement and anxiety, the chatter of my classmates buzzing around me. Everyone
seemed eager for the field trip, the anticipation of seeing a real, high-tech lab hanging in the air. I kept my head down, my notebook clutched tightly in my hands, flipping through my sketches and ideas to calm my nerves. I wasn't just here for the tour; I had a plan.
My heart raced as we entered the Oscorp building, its sleek, futuristic design almost surreal. Scientists in lab coats bustled around, some carrying tablets, others deep in conversation. The place practically hummed with energy, every corner buzzing with the promise of discovery and invention.
"Alright, everyone," our teacher called out, gathering us in a group. "Stay close, don't wander off. We'll be starting the tour in the main research wing."
As we made our way down the hallway, something caught my eye. Standing near the entrance to one of the labs, surrounded by a small entourage, was a man in a sharp suit — Tony Stark. The man himself. And beside him, Pepper Potts and his ever-present bodyguard, Happy Hogan.
My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my breath catch. Tony Stark was right there, in the flesh, just a few feet away. This was my chance — my one shot to show him my ideas, to maybe get a few seconds of his attention. I clutched my notebook tighter, rehearsing the words in my head as I walked toward him, almost tripping over my own feet in my excitement.
Just as I got close, I felt a hand block my way. I looked up to see Happy Hogan standing in front of me, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
"Hey, kid," he said, glancing down at me. "What are you doing?"
"I, uh…wanted to show Mr. Stark my notebook," I stammered, looking past Happy to where Tony was engaged in conversation with Pepper and a few Oscorp executives. "I just…I have some ideas I think he might like."
Happy raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Tony's busy, kid. He's not here for fan club meetings."
But I didn't give up. "Please, just a minute. I'm working on these inventions, and…I just really want his opinion." At that moment, Tony looked over, noticing the interaction. He sighed and finally turned his attention to me, his gaze landing on the notebook I was clutching.
"Alright, alright," he said, holding out a hand. "Let's see what you've got, kid."
My heart soared as I tried to hand him the notebook. Happy Hogan stopped me and took it from my hand instead. "Sorry kid, Tony doesn't like to be handed things." He flipped through my notebook first. Seeing it was what I said it was, hae handed it to Tony.
I was barely able to breathe as he flipped through the pages. He skimmed my sketches, nodding slightly as he looked over a few ideas, but his face remained impassive.
"Hm. Some of these are…okay," he said, closing the notebook and handing it back to me. "But listen, kid — you don't become an inventor just by being good at science. It takes inspiration, imagination. You need to think outside the box."
He gave me a sympathetic but somewhat dismissive smile. "Not everyone's a genius, alright? Stay in school, find what you're actually good at, and maybe…you'll end up somewhere."
My face flushed, the excitement I'd felt moments before crumbling into a painful ache. Pepper gave Tony a reproachful look, nudging him slightly. "Tony, don't be so hard on him."
Tony shrugged, unbothered. "I'm not in the habit of giving kids unrealistic expectations, Pep. Better to tell them early."
My stomach twisted as his words echoed in my mind. My classmates were watching, whispering and laughing quietly as Tony turned back to his conversation. It felt like the ground had opened up beneath me, and I was freefalling.
"Thank you, Mr. Stark," I managed, my voice barely audible as I clutched my notebook tightly and returned to the group, my face burning with embarrassment.
…
The tour continued, but I barely heard a word of what the guide was saying. My mind was spinning, replaying Tony's words over and over. It wasn't that he'd rejected me — it was that he'd seen what I was trying to do and hadn't even thought it was worth more than a few glances. To him, I was just a kid with some "okay" ideas.
As we walked down a hallway, I felt someone grab my arm, yanking me off to the side. I looked up to see Flash Thompson, his face twisted into a scowl as he glared at me.
"You," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Nice job on that English Lit paper, Parker. Got me a B. You call that good work?"
I swallowed, the weight of Tony's rejection still fresh in my mind, making Flash's words cut even deeper. "I…I tried my best. English Lit isn't really my—"
"Oh, don't give me excuses," Flash snapped, grabbing my shoulder and pushing me back. "If you can't get me an A, what good are you?"
My mouth opened, but no words came. Flash's glare burned into me, the frustration and anger I'd tried to bury all morning bubbling dangerously close to the surface. But before I could react, he shoved me again, this time toward a door to the side — a janitor's closet.
"Let's see how well you do your next assignment locked in here, nerd," he sneered, yanking the door open and shoving me inside. Before I could scramble to my feet, the door slammed shut, plunging me into darkness.
…
The silence was suffocating, the tiny space around me cold and unwelcoming. I tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge. Panic clawed at my chest, a desperate, helpless feeling filling me as I sank to the floor, my notebook slipping from my fingers.
The darkness pressed in, amplifying the thoughts I'd tried so hard to ignore. Rejected by Tony Stark, brushed off by Gwen, bullied by Flash…no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it never seemed to be enough. I could feel the weight of it all pressing down on me, the hopelessness, the loneliness.
My shoulders shook as a sob escaped, and then another, my hands clenching into fists as the tears came faster, harder. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I'd always dreamed of doing something amazing, of being someone important, but the reality was so much colder, so much harsher.
In that tiny, dark space, I felt like I was drowning, every cruel word, every rejection piling on top of me until I could barely breathe. My chest heaved, the walls closing in as I buried my face in my hands, the bitter taste of failure sharp on my tongue.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard a voice from the other side of the door. "Peter? Are you in there?"
It was my teacher. The door creaked open, flooding the small closet with light. I stumbled out, wiping my face quickly, but the looks from my classmates were already there — curious, pitying, and worst of all, mocking. I could hear them whispering as I walked to the bus, their voices hushed but unmistakable.
"Did he seriously get locked in a closet?"
"What a loser."
The bus ride back was a blur, the whispers and stares cutting into me like knives. I kept my head down, my notebook clutched tightly in my lap, my mind racing as I tried to block out the sound, the feeling. But it was all too loud, too overwhelming, the weight of it all pressing down until I could barely breathe.
As I stepped off the bus, a dark thought crept into my mind, one that I'd kept buried for so long but could no longer ignore. What if…what if none of this mattered? What if all my struggles, all my dreams…weren't worth it?
But then, as I walked alone, something shifted. Maybe I couldn't make them understand now. Maybe no one saw me, or respected me. But that didn't mean it would be this way forever. I'd show them. I'd prove them all wrong.
I clenched my fists, a new resolve hardening within me. One day, they'd know my name, just like they knew Tony Stark's. I'd make them see what I was capable of, no matter what it took. Then they would be the ones begging me to notice them, to acknowledge them. I'd show them what it felt like to be treated like less than, a nobody, a… loser.
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