#Little Edie Bouvier
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Grey Gardens (1975) Film Review A+
Special mention to the TV movie âGrey Gardensâ (2009) Special mention to the TV Limited Seriesâ Feud: Capote vs The Swansâ (2024) Big and Little Edie Bouvier have entered the hearts of gay men everywhere! Well, maybe not everywhere! The film âGrey Gardensâ tells the story of Big Edie and Little Edie Bouvier, the aunt and cousin of former First Lady Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. When theâŚ
View On WordPress
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
jack schlossberg for vogue (2024)
#now that he's blowing up remember who the og stan was..#jack schlossberg#vogue magazine#the kennedys#jfk jr#jfk#jackie bouvier#jackie kennedy#little edie#the kennedy family#girlblogging#coquette#hyper feminine#tumblr girlies#this is a girlblog#2014 tumblr#lana del rey#cinnamon girl#lizzy grant#girl interrupted#old money#vintage americana#americana#american sweetheart#50s#60s#nymph3t#dollette#john schlossberg#vogue
618 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Born on this day: old money American socialite (first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy and Princess Lee Radziwill), bold fashion risk-taker, raccoon and feral cat enthusiast, devoted daughter, frustrated cabaret chanteuse and genuine eccentric Edith Bouvier Beale (aka âLittle Edieâ, 7 November 1917 - 14 January 2002). This woman, her equally idiosyncratic mother Edith Ewing Bouvier (âBig Edieâ) and the documentary Grey Gardens (1975) are an endless source of inspiration. Pictured: Polaroid portrait of Edie by Andy Warhol, 1976.
#little edie beale#grey gardens#andy warhol#andy warhol polaroid#lobotomy room#edith bouvier beale#eccentric#socialite#warhol factory
74 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Edith Bouvier Beale, "Grey Gardens", 1975. A documentary by Albert and David Maysles
175 notes
¡
View notes
Text
STAUNCH
24 notes
¡
View notes
Text
17 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Grey Gardens
108 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Interview Magazine, April 1976.
#grey gardens#bouvier#little edie#little edie beale#edie beale#staunch character#mother darling#east hampton#south hampton#the hamptons#new york#old money#interview#andy warhol#maysles brothers#albert maysles#david maysles#big edie
14 notes
¡
View notes
Text
My idol, my queen, my soul sister, my guardian angel: Edith Bouvier Beale Jr. (Little Edie)
19 notes
¡
View notes
Link
Gradually, the filmâs high campness, including some deliciously bitchy one-liners between Big and Little Edie, developed a significant gay following.
#albert and david maysles#big edie bouvier#little edie bouvier#feud: capote vs the swans#truman capote#ryan murphy#naomi watts#diane lane
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Remembering socialite, fashion model, and the subject of the classic documentary Grey Gardens, Edith Bouvier Beale on the anniversary of her birth.
R.I.P. (1917 - 2002)
#rest in peace#edith bouvier beale#little edie beale#birthday#grey gardens#grey gardens 1975#documentary film#direct cinema#art#movies#cult movies#fan art#movie art#drawing#movie history#pop art#modern art#pop surrealism#portrait#cult film
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
#grey gardens#little edie#edith bouvier beale#edie beale#albert maysles#david maysles#big edie#East Hamptons#guided age mansions
41 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Must have been taken on a good day ....
Little Edie
248 notes
¡
View notes
Text
120 notes
¡
View notes
Text
celebrity skin. (part seven)
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.7k summary: due to an unexpected visit, you're forced to tackle a certain situation head on. maybe now you can get some answers from the rockstar that broke your heart â or maybe your family will just annoy you about it.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / a little comfort, minor use of pet names, tiny bit of fluff, familial drama â if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
& psa: images used in the header donât depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that sheâs a little shorter than eddie.
celebrity skin. masterlist
There is an infamous estate in East Hampton thatâs been key to many conversations between your family members.
Grey Gardens was four acres of oceanfront land.Â
The prime location had been prone to controversy right from the very beginning, or more accurately, since 1901. Controversies involving the women that owned the estate. Women not so dissimilar to your own grandmother, such as Margaret Bagg Phillips who was challenged for ownership of the land after the passing of her husband â (his brother suspected that she cremated him so that an autopsy couldnât be performed).Â
More notably though, Grey Gardens had at one point been home to Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale, and her daughter, Little Edie.Â
Your Nana would often use Big Edieâs martial fall out as an example to never trust a manâs intentions. Sheâd also use the Bealeâs widely publicised story as a warning. People will judge you, especially if your name is already known to some.
Despite the gossip associated with Grey Gardens, the reason for its frequent mention at your familyâs dinner table wasnât because of the vast size of the property, its architectural style, or design. And it wasnât the scandalous story, or the association with being a recluse. No. For your family, the name signalled an escape. A white flag, of sorts, to end the standoff between two or more people because the talks were going in circles. The mention of Grey Gardens was to allow for reflection since seeing someone elseâs point of view, in the heat of the moment, was not easy.
A white flag you were now waving.
âEddie came to see you?â Val asks in disbelief while she carefully sets a bowl of mashed potatoes down on its designated spot at the family dinner table.
âGrey Gardens,â you mutter, not interested in getting into this conversation.
Unfortunately, your younger sister ignores you, along with the meaning that your family has given to the East Hampton acres of land. She proceeds to press on the matter, rather indelicately, because sheâs always been nosy when it comes to your celebrity skin â not out of jealousy, you knew that much, just morbid curiosity, as sheâd always say. Normally you donât mind it. Hers is the only attention you give into because sheâs always been your number one fan. This whole situation with Eddie however, well, that you didnât want to get into. Itâs the reason you stayed hidden in your apartment for all those weeks following the breakup.
So you made a promise with yourself: no one has to know that the Corroded Coffin frontman showed up at your door the other night. And by no one, you meant your own family and close circle, since you already told Steve and Eddieâs undoubtedly gone to visit his sister. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, three days with no hitch. Saturday⌠Well, the tabloids had to go and ruin that day for you and put a hink in your plan to keep this situation underwraps. EDDIE MUNSON SPOTTED IN NEW YORK: the Rockstar plus the Big Apple, it can only mean one thing.
People arenât stupid. They picked up on the hidden meaning immediately. Understood the illusion presented to them by second-rate journalists who were dreaming of writing about things that matter, but are instead stuck working on puff pieces about people five-times more famous than theyâll ever be. So the gossip train took off. Eddie Munson was in New York City to see you. This time, of course, that was true, but you hated that other people knew about it. Most importantly, you hated that your family knew.
âDid he say why he came?â Val is relentless.
Tension is building up your back, to your shoulder blades. You crack your neck. Youâve never been one to go against family, but youâre maybe about one question away from telling Val to fuck off. Jesus. The intention behind the thought disappears from your mind just as fast as it initially crept up. It would be redundant. Sheâd just call for mom, the peacemaker.Â
And speaking of momâŚ
âValentine, can you please gather your siblings? Dinner will be ready in five minutes and Iâm pretty sure Jonah is knee-deep in Play-Doh, while Amelia will take about twenty to put down the phone.âÂ
She always walks into the room like sheâs in a rush for something, despite never having anywhere to go outside of school pickups and grocery runs. Yet thereâs an elegance there, thought by your Nana, and an aura of warmth and a certain poise that youâve envied since you were a little girl. An aura that canât be mimicked or copied. Youâve tried.
âYour sister is going to help me out here,â your mom adds before Val can argue, âThe green beans need to be finished, and I need someone to check on the pie because I have to handle the steaks.â
Youâre grateful for the distraction, following your mom into the kitchen. The sizzle coming from the oil is soothing, like white noise. You stand in the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to close your eyes, listening to the hissing as you take in the surrounding smells. Solace. Although itâs brief because your mom is calling your name and sheâs again in a rush, opening the oven quite harshly and telling you to look at the pie.
âWhereâs dad?â You wonder while doing what sheâs requested you to do. The pie is burned at the top, but you donât tell her, taking it out instead and setting it aside to cool. The oven is off before she even gets a chance to ask what it looks like.
âHeâll be back soon,â she answers simply, âWent to pick up Caroline and your Nana.â
You nod and move onto finishing the green beans before your mom can implore you to do so. She starts whistling. The same tune she always does when cooking â your first number one song. It makes you smile. Sheâs always told you how proud she was, both of your parents did. Their beautiful girl, their second daughter, grew up to become bigger than the world. Thatâs plenty of reason for pride. You start to hum along.
For the next ten minutes, five longer than what your mom said dinner would take, you forget all about Eddie Munson showing up at your apartment door.Â
-
The banging continues. Eddie's calling your name through the wood thatâs separating your two bodies, desperate for your attention. Itâs almost like a plea, but that would mean heâs remorseful of something, and if you know Eddie at all â which you think you do â heâs not the remorseful type, considering how often he fucks up.
With a trembling hand, you slide the chain onto the lock and slowly open the door, peeking at the rockstar from between the created gap. Eddie is quick to readjust his position, leaning forward against the frame, so that he can see you better in the dim light of your apartment.
âHow did you get past the doorman?â
âI uh⌠I told him I was your boyfriend.â
You canât help but scoff. His answer angers you. Enough to want to shut the door back in his face, which youâre about to do when Eddie places his hand between the crack, preventing you from doing anything.
âJust hear me out.â
âPlease leave.â
âSweetheartââ
âNo,â you snap, âYou⌠you donât get to call me that.â
Eddie sighs while dropping his hand, though he doesnât move much further and his persistence makes it hard for you to just leave him there, sulking in your hallway.Â
Motherfucker.Â
Despite the resentment you currently feel, and despite not really wanting to talk to him, you briefly close the door to unlatch the chain, then open it again before stepping to the side, allowing him to enter the confines of your apartment because a) youâre an idiot, and b) youâre a stupid fucking idiot.
The rockstar lingers for a moment, glancing between you and the inside of your home, and you think he must be unsure about your sudden change of heart. Frankly, youâre unsure too since you did your best to get over him â a lot of that effort to no avail. Youâre mainly unsure though, âcause once he steps through the threshold, it will be a lot harder to kick him out.
âDo you want something to drink?â You ask, breaking the rather heavy silence, but you donât wait for him to answer. âMake yourself comfortable. Iâll get us some water.â
Eddie nods at your words, slowly, and you leave him there, lingering by the open door before he finally takes that step forward. You disappear into the kitchen under the pretext of hydration, when youâre alone, however, instead of reaching for two glasses, you lean against your fridge as the tears breach through the corners of your eyes. The stone-like facade you put up just moments prior has disappeared the second you allowed yourself to breathe.
Every inch of you is against indulging the Corroded Coffin frontman in whatever conversation he hopes to have with you, hence why you shut the door in his face in the first place. He broke you, a sentence you repeated to yourself like a mantra while spending hours on end in bed instead of living your luxurious life. Youâre dreaming of Grey Gardens. The escape that it provides. The white flag you wish to wave in means of avoidance because avoidance is always easier than working through feelings, especially since youâve been down this road before with Eddie and he just doesnât seem to change.
Then thereâs that voice of reason, closely resembling your mom, telling you that Eddie did come to New York and of all people, he chose to see you. Despite everything thatâs happened, despite knowing he most likely wouldnât be greeted kindly, he still came to see you. Thatâs gotta count for something, right?
Wrong, considering the timing of his arrival is shortly after your not-so-fake date with one of his closest friends as so carefully planned by Max; who was counting on this very reaction from her brother. She prepared you for it, so you knew damn well that whatever conversation youâre about to have would be far from productive, since, you suspect, this is the reason heâs in the Big Apple to begin with.
And while youâre in the kitchen trying to regain control of your nerves, Eddie is also going crazy.
He didnât really come here with a clear mission. Honestly, calling Marianne to charter a jet last minute was a pure knee jerk reaction after reading that spread on you and his so called friend, Steve. A night out on the town, featuring his best girl and someone he thought was a best friend. The photo of the two of you was cosy, too close for comfort and too much for poor olâ Eddie. He wondered how the two of you met. He wondered what you talked about on this date. Did either of you mention his name?Â
Then the questions took a turn for slightly more perverse considering your history.Â
Did you do more than just hold hands, as depicted in the photo? He wondered if you, as the tens of girls in Hawkins, also thought Harrington was a good kisser. Was he better than Eddie? Did you enjoy kissing him? Fuckâ Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. The feeling made him sick.Â
Thatâs when Eddie knew, despite all perceived consequences, he needed to see you.
Your apartment was exactly like he imagined it to be. Big and bright. Eclectic, but with classy furniture that unsurprisingly looked more expensive than anything heâs ever owned. It was carefully arranged to maximise the space and make it look more inviting.Â
There was a display of various awards on top of the marble fireplace, most notably a Grammy. Eddie smiles at the statue, then continues to glance around your living room. A gallery wall catches his attention, so he stops his small, self-guided tour in front of it. The photos vary from your magazine covers, to childhood memories. In the middle, thereâs a picture of your family and although Eddieâs never met anyone aside from your evil grandmother, from your stories, he knows exactly who everyone is â your parents, Alicia and Brad, with their four daughters, Caroline, Valentine, Amelia, and you, plus the youngest boy, Jonah â and he canât help but wonder if you told them anything about him.Â
He suspects the answer is yes, since why else would you disappear for a few months to Los Angeles, only to come back heartbroken. So the brunette rockstar hates himself even more for putting you in that situation in the first place. He wishes more than anything that he could explain, but the grisly threats made by the very person thatâs sitting right in the middle of the family picture, ring in his ears.
Thatâs how you find him. Staring blankly at the photo frames ahead.
-
Everyone settles at the table, taking their assigned seats, like itâs always been. Mom on one end of the wooden piece of furniture, your dad on the other. The sides see your Nana sitting in between you and your older sister Caroline whoâs partner, Jackie, usually takes todayâs empty spot. Across sits Valentine, Amelia, and little boy Jonah, whoâs always closest to your mom, otherwise he throws a fit.
Nana initiates prayer. Your family has never been overly religious, if at all, but you do believe in thanking whatever higher power may exist for the blessings youâve each encountered in life: your parents meeting each other when they did and starting the beautiful family your Nana is constantly praying for, Caroline for graduating at the top of her class in medical school and most recently starting her surgical residency at John Hopkins Hospital, Val for her spot at NYU and Amelia for her spot at the top of the cheer pyramid (a sure scholarship ride, when the time comes), and lastly you, for everything that made you. Jonah is the only one that has no idea whatâs going on. Heâs just happy to see food.Â
The potatoes are passed clockwise. Thatâs when the chaos slowly begins to unfold.Â
âGuess who came to see our star,â Val teases. She means no harm, but you just have this feeling that thereâs no way this could end well.
âWho?â Caroline asks, focused more on plating her dinner than on actually getting an answer. Sheâs just being polite, as always. Unwilling to leave her sister hanging.
âA certain dark-haired rockstar.â
âValââ
But your attempt at a protest is quickly interrupted.
âOh for the love of everything good,â your Nana exhales rather loudly, âWhat does that boy want with you now? I thought you left that fiasco behind in Los Angeles, where it belongs.â
âItâs not like I invited him over,â you state, âHe just⌠appeared.â Not entirely a lie because they donât have to know that the last date you were seen on was carefully orchestrated to get under the rockstar's skin, which is why he came.
âI for one like the thought of you and that boy together,â your mom says, knife cutting into her piece of steak, âThereâs something very kind about his face, and you know what I always say about kindness.â
âAt the end of the day, thatâs all that really matters when it comes to love,â you chime in unison with each of your sisters.
âExactly.â
âThis isnât about love.â The tone of your Nanaâs voice is urging close to displeasement. You look at her, but sheâs focused on her plate. If you knew any better, youâd say she was avoiding your gaze. Almost as if she was hiding something.
But you quickly brush the thought away before it can grow into something more. Whatever her stance on the rockstar, and sheâs made it very clear on numerous occasions that she wasnât Eddieâs biggest fan, your Nana was often a lot of talk and little follow through. She didnât like to get her hands dirty, unless there was a clear benefit to her, or someone in the family. And there was no winning for anyone when it came to the whole situation with Eddie.
âEddieâs cute,â Amelia says sweetly, taking a forkful of green beans into her mouth. âLike a sexy sort of cute. That bad boy look is definitely working for him.â
âI donât see it.â Caroline shrugs.
âThatâs âcause youâre into chicks, not dicks.â Val points out.
âValentine.â Your dadâs first words around the dinner table are always spoken to reprimand someone else. A man of a few expressions, is what you often described him as. Holly thought it was insanely hot which always grossed you out.
Val clears her throat, understanding that sheâs crossed a line with that rather cheeky comment, but she doesnât apologise. Instead she continues with questions to the initial subject she raised â Eddie coming to see you.
âDid you let him in?â She probes, âDid you guys talk?â
-
Eddie does turn his head as soon as you walk back into the room, sensing your presence like he usually does. He tries to smile, though his mouth refuses cooperation with his brain and instead pursues his lips into a lopsided line, somewhat reminiscent of what he was trying to achieve, but not quite. Not really.
Avoiding more eye contact than absolutely necessary, you place the two glasses of water on the coffee table before standing on the other side of it. Ensuring ample space between you and the Corroded Coffin frontman. A necessary precaution considering how fast you tend to give into his mahogany-coloured eyes.
âTalk.â
Itâs simple. Right now, thatâs all you can muster.
Eddie clears his throat. Right now, thatâs all he can muster.
In the few minutes of rather unbearable silence that follow, youâre forced to come to terms with the fact that Grey Gardens is most definitely not an option. Eddie is actually here, in your living room, for one reason or another, which is another reminder of how the two of you ended up like this in the first place: âI think we made a mistake,â he says a little too bluntly. âI-I donât think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm⌠This is nothing on you, sweetheart. Iâm just not the relationship type.â
âEddie, talk.â You say with a little more conviction. âBecause you begged me for a chance to hear you out just mere minutes ago, and now youâre as silent as the dead, so Iâm a little confused and getting even more peeved off.â
âOkay,â he breathes finally, âOkay, uhm.â
Running a hand through his crazy locks, Eddie glances briefly at the golden award on your chimney, before settling his gaze on you.
âI-I saw the pictures of you and Steve.â A statement that surprisingly isnât fueled by anger, or the jealousy he was for sure feeling, but rather by a sadness that he only blamed himself for.
âRightâŚâ
âHow did you two meet?â
âAt Saks,â you answer, intentionally leaving out the young redhead that was also present, âWe bumped into each other and kind of hit it off.â
âDid he say he knew me?â
âShouldnât you be asking him all those questions, Eddie? Iâve got nothing to explain to you since weâre no longer together, you made that very clear,â you state. âIf it bothers you so much that I was seen out with Steve, then ask the guy thatâs supposedly your friend.â
Thereâs a twinge of guilt that oozes through your veins because if it wasnât for your agreement to Maxâs little plan, you wouldnât have to witness Eddieâs desperation. And even though you try to remind yourself how hurting the brunette man back is exactly why you agreed to the stupid date in the first place, seeing Eddieâs melancholy expression makes you think it wasnât really worth it.
âLook, I-Iââ Youâre about to give in, explain the situation in hopes heâd simply let it go and leave you be. Leave you to finally move on since, at the end of the day, thatâs what you really wanted, no, needed to do.Â
The phone rings. Interrupting your train of thought along with the conversation. When you answer and itâs Steve, calling to check in since you never called him back, like you promised you would, the guilt bubble bursts and bleeds.
âEddieâs here,â you simply state into the receiver, your back now to the Corroded Coffin frontman as he continues to stare at your frame.Â
âOh,â Steve sighs, âDo you need me to come over? Diffuse the situation?â
Even though Harrington canât see you, you shake your head. âNo, thatâs okay. Iâm okay,â you affirm and for the first time that night, smile. Albeit slightly. âThank you anyway, and ehm, Iâll call you tomorrow, okay?â
âDeal.â
âGoodnight, Steve.â
âGoodnight, darlinâ.â
When you shift in your spot to once again look at Eddie, his expression is no longer one of dejection. Instead itâs replaced by the look you knew you were bound to be at the receiving end of at some point during this night â resentment.
âSo you call each other goodnight after just one date, huh?â
Bitter, the tone of his voice. Like a child at a playground who was forced to share his favourite toy. It causes you to roll your eyes âcause youâre once again reminded of the person everyone warned you Eddie is: a self-serving asshole. And to say you werenât expecting a drop of the broken facade at some point would be a lie.Â
âItâs really nothing to you,â you state back, crossing your arms under your bust, no longer wanting to explain how this all came about. âNow, if all you came here for is to question me about my date, I guess you can leave âcause Iâve got nothing else to tell you, Eddie. Itâs frankly none of your business and I once again remind, that you made sure of that.â
Eddie scoffs, but doesnât say anything else, not even a stupid goodbye, or see you around. He simply brushes past you and slams the front door shut. Leaving you all alone with your thoughts, yet again.
The sudden silence is overbearing.
You think of Grey Gardens. Inside, a dust-covered grand piano. Untouched and unplayed for many years. You think of the songs that never made it past the first key, wasted because of the hosts decision to lock all doors. Self-preservation. Recluse, like Val recently called you.
And a recluse is the last thing you want to be again.
-
Jonah is making a mess. Heâs playing with his dinner, potatoes everywhere but the places theyâre supposed to be. Your mom is trying to calm him down. Unfortunately the further she bargains for peace, the more excited he gets. Heâs laughing now. Clearly enjoying himself, along with the attention heâs getting.
Momâs voice is calm while she repeats his name. Amelia can be heard from the kitchen, screeching that your brother got his dinner all over her new jeans and the stain wonât come out. Caroline is shouting back from her seat, giving your youngest sister cleaning tips sheâs picked up at the hospital. Your Nana and Val have gotten into an argument over the parenting style you were all raised with (Valentine protecting your mom, while your Nana remains ever the scrutinizer).
Youâre grateful that for a few minutes, everyone is focused on your brother.
Then Jonah starts crying. Itâs gotten too loud for his tiny ears. Heâs no longer enjoying the minor disruption heâs caused, he just doesnât know how to apologise for it, so he opts to let the floodgates open. Watching him, you think how lucky it must be to just cry when things get tough. How freeing it must be to not keep shit in until it gets too much.
When his screams get louder, your mom glances at your dad, who understands without a single spoken word that he can no longer just observe. So your dad stands. He walks around the table until heâs by Jonahâs chair, lifting him up in one swift movement.
âItâs alright, my man.â
With that, theyâre gone. The cries soon fade. When Amelia sits back down, a wet patch on her jeans, itâs quiet around the table again. Your mom asks for the empty plates, a smile on her face as if the last ten minutes didnât just flutter her completely. One by one theyâre passed to her without a word. When she stands, Caroline follows by picking up the bowls with leftover mash and beans.
âSo are you gonna see him again?â Amelia asks. Continuing the previous topic because if sheâs engaged in conversation, then mom wonât ask for her help.
âWho?â
âEddie, you dingus.â
You grimace. âI donât know.â
That apparently was not the right answer because your Nana jumps back in with nothing but judgement in her tone of voice.
âHoney, do you really want to put yourself through more heartbreak?â She queries, âBecause Iâve told you before that boys like that donât change their ways.â
âWell, I wouldnât really know if they change or not, since I wasnât exactly privy to the circumstances surrounding the demise of my and Eddieâs relationship in the first place.â You donât mean to snap, but thatâs exactly what happens. âNow, does the concept of Grey Gardens not apply anymore, because if so, I mustâve missed that family meeting.â
You walk away from the table next. Sick of answering questions. Sick of this conversation. Sure, this was your family, but there were things you wanted to keep private. Especially things relating to Eddie since you were still only trying to figure everything out yourself.Â
The conversation with Eddie didnât amount to much. Without allowing yourself to second guess the feeling in your gut, you rushed after the rockstar the night he walked out of your apartment. There was a lot going through your mind, but one thing was a little more clear, he wasnât going to win. Eddie Munson was not going to be the one to play victim in this situation since heâs the person thatâs caused this crazy domino effect. He wonât turn you into a fucking recluse again.
Unfortunately heâs gone by the time you make it to the lobby. You donât get a chance to confront him then and you havenât heard from him since. Youâre not even sure if heâs still in New York â a feeling creeping through you screams that he is, but you canât be sure.
The line rings once, twice. Then a jovial voice picks up.
âMayfield residence.â
You clear your throat. âHey, Max, itâs uh⌠itâs me.â
âMy favourite popstar,â Red cheers, âTo what do I owe the pleasure?â
âIs Eddie there? Or do you maybe know what hotel heâs staying at?â
When Max doesnât immediately answer, you think you fucked up by calling. Dumb idea, dumb idea, dumb, dumb, dumb. Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you proceed to chew on it nervously, about to tell her to forget you asked, forget you called. But then a voice flows through the receiver and it doesnât belong to Max.
âHeard youâre looking for me, sweetheart.â
Eddie.
âHave you ever been to Coney Island?â
-
The Wonder Wheel was an attraction to hundreds, if not thousands, locals and tourists. A glistening staple of the peninsular neighbourhood. You could never hope to see it during the day anymore. Not since your fame skyrocketed, now on par with the amusement park. At night however, when the sun went down and the workers finished their shifts, well, that was a different story.
The watch strapped to your wrist displayed two in the morning as you walked towards the metal gate with a rather hesitant Eddie by your side. Heâs unsure why you called, unsure of why you invited him out here after making it pretty clear the other night that you didnât want to talk to him. What changed?
âWell, Iâll be damned.â Tony was the security guard, about four years shy of retirement. Working the Wheel grounds since he was a kid, following his dad whoâd done the job before. A true New York family affair. You befriended him a long time ago now.Â
âI thought Iâd seen the last of you, kid.â
âBack to my roots now. Itâs nice to hear Iâve been missed,â you say as Tony opens the gate for you without question.Â
âOne hour,â the older man states, like heâs done many times before, only briefly glancing back at the rockstar thatâs accompanying you. Thankfully, he chooses not to comment.
âOne hour,â you repeat with a nod and a smile.
Underneath the Wonder Wheel is where you hope to find some peace in this whole situation. Eddieâs still hesitant, and a little confused, especially when you lay flat on your back on the dirty ground to stare upon the metalworks of the world famous attraction. He doesnât question you though, just accepts that to continue any sort of conversation, heâs going to have to join you.
Thereâs a half-a-beat of silence. Just the wind, the water, and some crickets. You exhale slowly, eyes closed momentarily because this was one of your safe spaces and now you mightâve ruined it by bringing your ex.
A sigh escapes your lips.
âEddie, why did you really come to New York?â You ask without looking at him.
When the rockstar doesnât immediately answer, a glimmer of hope for what you two lost, oozes through you. Itâs foolish, yes, you know that. Your Nana would even call you stupid for holding onto something â someone â that has hurt you repeatedly. Matter of fact, she damn nearly has earlier this evening. But itâs Eddie, you tell yourself. Heâs charming, but not in a try-hard way. The charm comes naturally to him. Heâs funny. Heâs wicked smart. And underneath that cold-ish exterior, heâs unbelievably kind (as your mom suspected). You learned this about him. Which is why it hurt so much when he ended things so casually. It seemed uncharacteristic to the Eddie Munson youâve gotten to know, and possibly even love.
He seemingly came to ask about your date with Steve, as his little sister predicted he would. Just like she planned for. At first, you thought that too âcause what other reason would there be to bring him all the way out here after months of no contact. What other reason, except for just seeing you.
âI think I told you once that wherever I go, solo or with the band, I never really set foot outside of whatever hotel they have me staying in, or whatever studio I have scheduled interviews and press in, venture from whatever show I have.â
âYour exact words were: they keep me prisoner,â you say through a smile.
Eddie laughs briefly at the memory. âWell, sweetheart, itâs true. Fame overall in a way is like a prison. Do you ever feel that way?â
âThatâs one way to not answer my question,â you tease, nudging his side slightly. âBut I guess, yeah. Canât go anywhere without Hank out of fear some randomer will come up to me with ill intentions, or Iâll end up in the papers again and my ex-whatever will fly across the country to confront me about it.â
You look at him then, a smile circling your lips. Eddie does the same. His brown eyes scan your own for a moment, contemplating the comment you just made.
âWe kinda get what we signed up for though, no?â You add. âSeems ungrateful to complain.â
Eddie nods. He licks his lips before looking back up at the sky above, spotty between the metal of the wheel, but beautiful nonetheless. Different from Los Angeles. Different from Hawkins. Reminiscent of the people heâs met here. Reminiscent of you which makes it perhaps the most perfect night sky heâs ever seen.
âI came âcause I wanted to see you.â
He exhales.
âWhen everything went down⌠I thought I was doing the right thing, sweetheart. I thought I was protecting you from the hell I know dating me can become,â Eddie explains, âI know thatâs not an excuse and if it was, itâd be a fucking lame one, but people that are close to me get hurt. Thatâs just the honest truth.â
âPeople like Chrissy Cunningham.â
Eddieâs head snaps back in your direction. Heâs shocked, thatâs for sure. How do you know that name? Did Steve tell you? Surely not without giving Eddie a heads up first. Thatâs the least Harrington could do after going on a very public date with his ex-girlfriend.
Quick to notice his surprise at the mention of Chrissyâs name, you realise the only way to get the truth, is to be honest yourself.
âEddie, thereâs something you should know about my first run-in with Steve.â
âDid he tell you about Chrissy?â The question is quiet, almost as if the rockstar is afraid to ask it. Heâs clearly nervous and it goes well beyond you just knowing about Chrissy.
âMax told me.â
âWhat?â
You sigh, glancing back up at the metal and sky above.
âShe was with Steve that day at Saks. We, uh, we didnât really talk then. We didnât even introduce ourselves âcause I was with Val who was trying on dresses for this event,â you tell him, then quickly look at him again.
âMax left a note with Hank. It was her address, she wanted to meet me.â
âYou met with my sister? I was just with her. Why didnât she tell me that?â
âI guess maybe she wanted me to be the one to tell you, I donât know.â You shrug before continuing, âEddie, she told me how you were seemingly crazy about me, so to her, it didnât make sense that you suddenly werenât. All she really wanted was to get your attention, get you to talk to her at least.âÂ
You pause. âDonât be mad at her please.â
âWhy would I be mad at her?â
âBecause sheâs the one who organised that date with Steve,â you answer. âIt was fake, Eds. All for show, to get under your skin.â
He stares at you. Blinking as the information settles. Betrayal isnât exactly the word heâd use to describe what he was now feeling. Lord knows he deserved it âcause thereâs no denying heâd been acting like a complete prick towards everyone around him, including little Red who heâs supposed to always be honest with.
So the date was fake. That gave Eddie some solace. You werenât really going to start dating one of his closest friends, even if the friend in question is calling you goodnight after said fake date. Then again, thatâs just Steve the King Harrington, always the gentleman.
One thing remained unanswered, however. How much do you know of Chrissy?
âIâm not mad,â Eddie says eventually. âIt actually makes a lot more sense now. Steveâs a good guy.â
âNot the type of guy to go out with his friends' ex,â you tease lightly.
The brunette smirks. âStill a dickhead.â
That makes you laugh. And as the sound settles, a sound Eddie would only describe as angelic, it makes the brunette rockstar smile a little wider. He didnât think heâd ever be so lucky to hear your laughter again. He especially didnât think he'd be the one to make you spur the emotion, not after what heâs done and how heâs treated you. But here the two of you are. Your laughter has faded, but the smile on your face remains.
âWell, Iâm glad youâre not mad I went on a date with that dickhead,â you say honestly.
âTsk. Iâm not mad at Red,â he clarifies with a smug smile, âNever said anything about you, sweetheart.â
You roll your eyes. âMay I remind you that you have lost all right to be mad at me for seeing other people when youâre the one that ended things?â
Itâs meant to come off lighthearted, but you canât hide the hurt behind your words. Thereâs a pain there. One that youâve forgotten about for the last twenty-or-so minutes because things are easy with Eddie. They align. The imperfect dots that represent your life are pulled together by an invisible string when the rockstarâs around. He somehow manages to make you feel normal and you live to experience a level of normalcy. Even if he hurt you. Twice.
âTell me about Chrissy,â you change the subject. Steer your thoughts in a different direction.
Eddie avoids eye contact. He lifts one of his arms, flicking the piece of metal and listening to it echo in the night. A lame effort to buy some time before answering you because now that his initial fear of someone else telling you about Chrissy has been squashed by your not-so-simple request, he needs to figure out a way to avoid answering. The threat your grandmother has made at that godforsaken party remains fresh in the rockstars mind: âAnd Eddie,â she continues, âI wouldnât tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldnât be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, whatâs more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.â
He swallows his breath before glancing back at you once again.
âThereâs nothing to say.â
Itâs simple. Can be perceived as vague âcause someone is avoiding the answer, but Eddie hopes youâll just take it as him not wanting to talk about an ex-girlfriend. Not that Chrissy was his ex, but you didnât really know that.
âNothing at all?â
âNothing at all,â he lies.
-
There are clear moments that define a person's life and theyâre not as basic as one would believe: first words, steps, tantrums, day of school, first friends, first fallouts, fight, crush, kiss, first anything â the list goes on, and on, and on. No. These definitive moments are a lot more hazy. Often remain unclear until you find yourself in therapy, spewing your feelings to someone whoâs paid to listen, or when youâre black-out drunk and whatâs bothering you deep inside is now between you and some stranger you just met in a nightclub bathroom.
Your list of moments is short and yet, somehow, it features Eddieâs name multiple times. In any other reality, that would be almost poetic. As if some higher power considered the two of you to be bound together. In this reality however, it was almost cruel. You had built a life bigger than you ever dreamed possible, and yet your existence is defined by the rockstar.Â
Almost cruel.
âThereâs a place in the Hamptons. Grey Gardens itâs called. I like to walk by it whenever Iâm in the area, which in recent years obviously isnât often, but still⌠Thereâs a certain solace about the property and despite its rather barmy history, my family uses Grey Gardens as a way to move past certain topics without a larger fight.â
The sand beneath you is coarse yet soft at the same time. You run your fingers through it, feeling every individual granule, while your gaze is fixated on the dark waters ahead. Eddie watches you. His arm is pressed against yours. Heâs got no idea what youâre talking about, but heâs hooked on every word. As always.
âWhen you showed up at my door the other night, Grey Gardens is what I thought of,â you admit, âTruth be told, as angry as I was at you for breaking up with me like that, when I saw you, the last thing I wanted was any sort of confrontation.â
âI didnât come here to argue,â Eddie clarifies.
âI know, Eds.â
Thereâs a brief moment of silence during which you wrap your arms around your knees and tilt your head to look at him, offering the rockstar a small smile.
âI believe you came âcause you regret your decision.â
Eddie looks away, bottom lip now between his teeth. He does so because youâre right, but unfortunately he canât admit that out loud. He canât say anything thatâs on his mind because heâs aware of the wider implications to both of your careers.
âSo, what happens now?â The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.
thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!
celebrity skin. masterlist
& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie smut#celebrity skin.
182 notes
¡
View notes