I'm Rebel, yes my name is Rebel. Believe me I never asked for that name, but I'm told it does describe me. I guess you could say I'm your average 15 year old, well maybe before I ended up in juvie.

My whole life I've been running, from one foster home to another. I swear, I have a world record on how many homes I've been in, but by now I just say screw 'em, I don't need shitty people to take care of me when they can barely take care of themselves. So essentially I'm a street rat, but honestly its not as bad as it sounds. It's been better than most foster homes I've been in to be honest. The only person who is decent enough to stick around me is my best friend, Jax.

I've known Jax since I was 13, when I finally decided to ditch the foster homes. Jax is the only family I have and the only family I need. He's like a older brother to me, since he's he's a year older. He was the one who taught me how to survive on the streets.

***

Shit, how did I manage to end up in juvie?

I never meant for it to go this far, it was just another fight. The worst part is, being on the streets there is no hope of getting bailed out. I know Jax could never get enough money and I'd never ask him too. I have no other family to rely on to get me out besides him.

How do I single handily screw up my life over and over again?

I mean I guess its not all that bad, I'd have a place to sleep, food to eat and clean clothes. I could make calls but there is no point when I don't know if Jax owns a phone, god he probably thinks I'm dead.

I've been waiting in the main office of juvie for what seems like forever. Finally a short chubby man calls my name and indicates to follow him. We walk down a hallway and stop at an empty interrogation room. He sits across from me, I can tell the mirror behind him is one of those one-sided mirrors with people on the other side watching to make sure I don't try to kill him.

He finally clears his throat, and pulls out a note pad.

"Name?" he sighs as if I'm just a waste of his time.

"Rebel" I reply, calmly.

He writes down something on his notepad before looking back up at me.

"Last name?" he asked in the same uninterested tone.

I open my mouth to speak but then pause because I realize I don't have a last name, or at least I don't know what it is.

"Uh well I don't really know" I answer truthfully, I've never needed to tell anyone my last name and no ones ever told it to me.

He looks up at me and sighs even louder then before.

"Alright then we need your birth certificate" he says as he gets up out of the chair waving for me to follow behind him.

We walk down the same hallway as we did coming in and end up at the front desk.

The man says something to the lady at the front desk, which I didn't bother to listen to. The man leaves and the front desk lady tells me to follow her, we walk behind the desk and down another hallway. We stop in a room and we sit down, she asked me basic question like my height, weight, first name, age, etc. After we finish what feels like we were playing 20 questions she pulls out an ink pad and tells me to press my finger on it and stamp it on the piece of paper in front of me.

After I give her my finger print she leads me back into the waiting room for whats going to feel like another eternity of waiting.

****

An hour and a half later the interrogation room, man comes back holding a slip of paper.

" Alright so we managed to retrieve your birth certificate... Ms...Stark" he say going over the certificate then handing it to me to see.

My last name doesn't even register with me, Stark.

I scan over the paper, this is the moment, the moment I've been dreaming and dreading of, the moment I find out who my biological parents are.

At the bottom of the certificate it reads "MOTHER: Crystal May Green, FATHER; Anthony Edward Stark". HOLY FUCK! MY FATHER IS FUCKING TONY STARK? I tried catching my breath but its no help, it feels like all the air was sucked out of my lungs.

"We've contacted your father since he was the only one we could find contact information on and he's on the way here to bail you out" The man says ignoring how I'm basically having a panic attack in the middle of the interrogation room.

The man leaves the room, leaving alone with just me and my thoughts; "What if he's a prick just like all the others?"," Did he know I even existed?". All the thoughts raced through my head, leaving me dizzy.

20 minuets later the door opens again, it's the same man as before. He unlocks the handcuffs around my wrists and tells me to follow him. He leads me to the front office of the building. Standing there, waiting is a middle aged man in an expensive looking suit and dark sunglasses. I'm assuming that he's Tony Stark- my father. I've never really seen pictures of him before, but he's what I expected him to look like from what I've heard. When he sees me he goes up to the front desk lady, signs some papers and says something under his breath to the her.

I think to myself, this is it.

He turns around looking at me up and down and heads for the door, not saying anything. He exits the building not bothering to check if I'm still with him. I have to jog to catch up with him.