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Henry still had a thousand insults queued up, but his super-hearing caught the assistant director calling for background actors.
With a sigh and a muttered curse, he grabbed a few donuts, shoved one into his mouth, chased it down with a final swig of Coke, and stomped off toward the set—his rage smothered under the weight of professionalism.
Behind him, the smug young man who had stolen his burger—still chewing—stood frozen, flustered and fuming. Tony Stark had never been dressed down like that in his entire life. He wasn't sad or embarrassed—he was calculating a comeback.
The perfect line. The nuclear-grade zinger.
Too bad the guy was already gone.
Tony glanced at the remains of the burger. Still warm. Still delicious. He thought about chasing after the guy... then looked back at the burger and muttered, "Damn it."
That's when he noticed the big Black man in a chef's coat approaching.
Wesley "Big Al" Washington hadn't moved during the verbal slugfest. He'd been too stunned. Not because of Henry's outburst—no, he'd seen him sharp-tongued before. But because the man on the receiving end of that storm of profanity was Tony freakin' Stark.
Now, with the scene over and half the cast gone, Big Al finally found the courage to speak.
Tony gave him a look of faint annoyance—half a glare, half confusion.
Al took a breath. "Sir, I'm Wesley Washington. Head chef of the catering team you contracted."
Tony squinted, then nodded slowly. "Right. You're the guy making the food." He lifted the burger. "This thing? Solid. Definitely wasn't a waste of money."
Al wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Sir, I should be honest. That burger wasn't on the original menu. It's a new recipe—a collaboration between myself and the guy who, uh… just screamed at you."
Tony stopped mid-bite.
"I'd be honored to add it to our future offerings," Al added quickly. "And I'd like to humbly ask that you don't take that little incident personally. I'll speak with him. He didn't know who you were, and once he does, I'm sure he'll—"
Tony cut him off, eyes glinting. "So... he just yelled at me, then ran off like a sore loser?"
"He got called back to set," Al said. "Extras were needed. He's just a background actor."
"Not a lead? Not even supporting?"
"No, sir. Total nobody. Just a face in the crowd." Al smiled awkwardly. "Really not worth your time."
Tony chewed thoughtfully, then smirked. "Shame. I was going to offer him a job."
Al blinked. "You were?"
"I mean—this burger's great. If he helped design it, maybe I'll just poach him. Bring him on as my personal chef."
Al stiffened. "With all due respect… I don't think he'd say yes."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
"Because I already tried." Al chuckled sheepishly. "I offered him a full-time position as my sous-chef. Even proposed helping him open his own spot someday. He turned me down."
Tony blinked, caught off-guard. "What, you didn't offer enough money?"
"I offered him $150,000 a year, plus bonuses for private events. It's triple what most people make in this country."
Tony paused. He had absolutely no frame of reference for what counted as "normal" income. But something else clicked.
"Wait a sec… Caltech. Dumb question. Dumbass." He rubbed his chin. "He mentioned that."
"What was that, sir?"
"Nothing." But Tony's mind was spinning.
That burger thief—he was the same guy from the Caltech library a few weeks back. The one who'd casually corrected Justin Hammer's nonsense with a lightning-fast aerospace calculation.
Superb mental math. Sharp tongue. Weirdly good cook.
And now… a background actor in Hollywood?
Tony's brain, equal parts brilliance and ego, did what it always did: jumped straight to fixation mode.
Anyone could be a genius. Plenty of East Asian kids at Caltech could calculate trajectories in their sleep. But geniuses with style? With taste? With restraint? Those were rare.
And yet here was one—working as a glorified extra, flipping off billionaires and building gourmet burgers like it was nothing.
Who the hell was this guy?
"Why is someone that talented wasting time as an actor?" Tony muttered.
Al answered honestly, "He said he's not really trying to be famous. Just a big fan of Audrey Hepburn. Wanted to come to Hollywood to see what it's like. Said maybe one day he'll get bored and do something else."
Tony repeated the phrase under his breath, lips curling into a sly grin.
"Maybe one day he'll get bored…"
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