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alkaline-wtr · 5 months

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WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 3 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader makes an unexpected new friend and makes it through the city. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 4.5k

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** I FINALLY DID IT!! I pulled an all-nighter to finish this! I'd like to first apologize for this chapter taking SO long... I honestly couldn't get my ideas straight but 4 rewrites later and I'm actually pretty proud of it. I was worried about this chapter being too long but I decided I'd rather it be long and decent than rushed and awful. This one is more of a filler chapter to give some more context and backstory but I wanted it to still be entertaining. Also, this IS still a Ghost x reader! Don't worry! He's just going through some stuff ya know? Lastly, to the Graves haters!! as a former Graves hater myself, I encourage you all to give the man a chance because writing this chapter single-handedly changed my mind about him. Anyways, strap in it's a long one. Hopefully, the wait was worth it. I can finally sleep! Enjoy. PS: if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know.

<< PART 1 << PART 2

You kept your eyes down, hugging the flashlight to your chest. The fear in your body caused you to tremble. The last time you had been face to face with someone on a road, you almost died, and this time, Ghost wasn't here to bail you out.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The stranger spoke in an enthusiastic tone. You looked at the toe of his boot nervously.

"Come on, sweetheart. Get off the ground."

The sound of your racing heartbeat filled your ears as you allowed your eyes to wander upward. The barrel of a rifle was inches from your nose, aimed at the asphalt below. It was relieving to know that the man wasn't actively threatening you. You took that to be a good sign.

The beam of light in your face was too bright to see the person's features.

Getting impatient with your silence, the man lowers the flashlight.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

His tone of voice suggested that he was annoyed with your reaction.

You slowly pull yourself to your feet. He seemed to be of an average height, taller than you. The man was blonde and had a fair complexion.

"What's your name?"

He raised an eyebrow. His tone remained almost lighthearted as if none of this had phased him.

"Y/n."

Your response is cautious. You kept your voice low. Your eyes searched him for any movement. The feeling in your gut was uncertain. He seemed authoritative yet approachable... possibly unpredictable.

"Well y/n, you're welcome. It seems I saved your ass back there."

The man's demeanor was cocky, and he was a bit full of himself. He swings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and puts out a hand for you to shake.

Something about his personality seemed intense. You hesitated to offer your hand but when you did, he gripped it firmly, pulling your wrist down briefly in a simple shake.

"Names Phillip Graves. You alone?"

You nodded eyeing the gun on his back. Phillip flashed a charming smile.

"Where are you headed to?"

He seemed to be full of questions, you couldn't quite decipher whether that was good or bad.

Unfortunately, he was the only other person around and didn't seem to immediately want to kill you. Something within you told you to give him a chance, it's not like you had options.

"I was just trying to make my way through the city." You admitted.

Phillip nods posing his hands on his hips.

"That's bold, for someone alone, especially of your... stature."

You couldn't help but glance down at yourself a little offended.

"I just mean, you don't seem to be the survivalist type." He adds.

You brush off the comment and change the subject.

"Are you alone too?"

You question. His bright smile returns, making his blue eyes crinkle at the edges.

"Been solo for quite a bit now. Although, Maybe that has changed."

It came out more as a statement than a question. He was arrogant and as much as his cocky attitude irritated you, you weren't going to turn down the company. Unfortunately, he was right you weren't the survivalist type.

You sat atop a large pickup truck. Your legs crossed beneath you. Phillip had called it 'keeping watch' but you thought he just wanted you out of the way.

You rested your hands on your ankles. Phillip is kneeling on the driver's side of the car trying to get the truck to start.

Breathing out a bored sigh you lean over the edge of the roof to check on his progress.

"Any luck?"

The blonde man leans back resting an arm on his bent knee.

"Afraid not."

He groans stretching as he stands back up Brushing his hands together to knock off any dirt.

"Looks like we'll have to walk."

Glancing up at you, his hands coming up to rest comfortably on his hips.

"Where to?"

A hint of confusion and curiosity in your voice.

Phillip waved his hand in a gesture that said to come down.

You stretched your legs out sliding your backside down until your shoes hit the bed of the truck. His hand pressed gently against your back steadying you as you climbed out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind heading into the city. It's more dangerous, but I know a place we can find some real firepower."

The idea gave you a bad feeling. Even though that had been the original plan, going through the city was the last thing you wanted to do. Now with Phillip around to watch your back, you felt no need to chase after Ghost anymore.

You continue to think for a moment. A trip through the city wasn't the worst idea, considering your lack of supplies. Slowly, you nod in a hesitant agreement.

"Okay, I guess that could work." Unsure of your response.

"Great! We can head out in the morning. It would be too dark right now."

Phillip shuts the door and walks to the back letting down the tailgate. He sits down, letting his legs hang off the side and pulls the rifle around to his lap. You watch him for a moment. He seemed content.

"How long have you been on your own?"

You question. Phillip turns to look at you. Surprisingly, the smile doesn't leave his face, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Ah, I don't know exactly..."

He sighs and turns to face forward again as if thinking how to continue. You join him on the tailgate, pulling your legs up and tucking them underneath you.

"I had a group, some people I've known for a long time but... they left me behind. Although, they had good reason."

His shoulders fall in a dismissive shrug.

Curiously, you wanted to push the subject further but before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

"Well, you better get some sleep... I'll be lookout."

His eyes meet yours in a way that told you it hadn't been a suggestion. Scooting yourself deeper into the truck bed, you shrug your backpack off your shoulders and use it as a pillow. It took a moment to adjust to a comfortable position. You lay back with a sigh.

In your line of sight was the mess of short blonde hair on the back of Phillips's head.

"Goodnight." You spoke.

The words were soft and laced with nervousness. Worried about trusting a stranger while you slept but even more worried, he'd be gone when you woke up.

Phillip doesn't respond but you can see his slight nod of acknowledgment before closing your eyes.

The orange sun lit up the cool morning. It had only been a few miles of walking to reach the exit ramp that brought you directly into the city. The large buildings towering above you were nearly in ruins, windows broken, areas were burnt, and the streets were littered with shrapnel. You make your descent on the ramp. There is a row of tire spikes you have to step over and cones blocking the lanes.

You'd remembered the news reports back in the small towns warning not to enter the cities. For days the gruesome news reports showed the traffic on the highways, and the bodies of those infected lining the streets but, this had been the first time since the outbreak began three months ago, that you had seen it all firsthand.

The smell of morning dew wafted through the air as Phillip led you under an overpass. You looked on in awe at the grim scene ahead.

"Come on. We're almost there."

Phillip stated, eyes scanning to make sure it was clear for you to cross the street.

The two of you continued deeper into the city. Finally, reaching a chain-link fence.

"What is this place?" You asked.

He had gone closer to the fence and checked its stability.

"It's a military camp."

He answers, turning to you.

"They had troops set up in the cities to try and minimize the spread."

He gestures for you to come over.

"We're going to climb the fence. You first."

As you approach, he pulls your bag down your shoulders. Phillip tosses it over the fence and helps boost you up.

Perched at the top of the fence. You take a moment to look out over the camp, some of the infected were wandering around at the far end. Fear filled you like a hunger in your stomach as you continued down quietly.

Phillip tossed his own bag to the other side of the fence and leaned the rifle over the top for you to grab. You take it in your hands, watching over your shoulder cautiously as you wait for him to climb.

The thud of boots hit the pavement beside you and Phillip pulls the riffle from your palms.

"Let's go."

He leads you quietly to a large green tent. Following closely, your gaze lingered on Phillips's back. Taking in the sight of his cautious stance as he crept forward. Much like Ghost, he had great awareness.

You shuffle quietly under the tarp it is more humid underneath than you'd expected. Both of you split up within the tent in search of supplies.

The tent was lined with cots. Small metal chests rest at the ends. Some were stripped completely of their blankets, and some even missing mattresses. One cot had a duffle bag on it. It was empty besides a couple pairs of socks and a tee shirt.

You dump the clothes out and take the bag moving to the next bed. Stepping cautiously with your heels to stay silent.

Phillip finishes searching his half and comes over to see what you had.

"Just this and a pocketknife."

You respond holding up the duffle bag. He nods,

"Found this,"

He holds up a couple of half-empty bottles of water.

You frown.

"There isn't much here, maybe someone beat us to it?"

Phillip shakes his head. The wrinkles in his face stood out with the furrow of his brow.

"That isn't likely... Let's check the other tents they'll have better stuff."

You follow him down to the entrance of the tent. As you pass a cot at the end of the row you feel a tug at your ankle.

The shock sent you to the ground with a gasp. Snarling sounds grow louder as a corpse crawls out from under the cot. You turn yourself around trying to back to your feet but the corpse's grip is stronger than anticipated.

He pulls you a bit closer sending you flat on your stomach. You grunt as you use all your force to try and kick him away, but the angle of your body puts you at a disadvantage.

Phillip reappears at the entrance concerned when you aren't behind him.

"Shit, Y/n!"

He runs over pulling the rifle off his shoulder and using the blunt end to smash the corpse's head. The cracking sound of the skull makes you cringe. His grip loosens and you're able to scramble backward. Phillip hits him a couple more times making sure it's completely limp before helping you up.

"You okay?"

You rise back to your feet with a huff.

"Yeah, let's just finish searching and get the hell out of here."

Phillip pats your back before leading the both of you back out of the tent. You take in the site of the ravished camp. Tents littered with bullet holes, blood coating the entrances, and a circle of chairs around an ashy fire pit where a couple of bodies lay. The whole sight was gruesome, and the horrific scene was only intensified by the silence.

Phillip marches forward stabbing a blade into the back of a corpse's head. Another comes from the tent to his side, and he turns taking it out too.

You still couldn't fathom how people were just okay Killing so instinctively.

Phillip turns to you gesturing you to keep following.

The tent containing food was by far the worst. It smelled awful. Between rotten produce, decaying bodies, and moldy bread. It was the equivalent of a dumpster in the hot sun. You covered your nose to keep yourself from retching. Phillip however, didn't seem to be affected by the smell. You tiptoe passed an overturned table. Buzzing flies cut through the silence as they swarm a mess of bodies.

The two of you searched the entire tent from top to bottom, coming out of it with a few varying cans, a couple more bottles of water, and a handful of MRE packages.

The rest of the camp was pretty much the same. Infected wandering about, a few water bottles, lots of blood, and not much else. It wasn't until you reached an arsenal that Phillips's eyes lit up.

"Jackpot!"

He drops his bag on the ground stepping further inside to inspect the weaponry.

"I wasn't sure how much would be left here."

The tent had been looted to some capacity but, there was still plenty here to arm ourselves with. As he held a rifle looking down the scope and checking the magazine you turned to look inside a crate. You lifted the wooden top to peek inside startled when Phillips's alarming voice called out.

"CARFUL Y/N! Those are explosives. Don't touch anything!"

Suddenly you weren't feeling very secure, the thought of being surrounded by crates of explosives that could all go off and kill you at any moment... was unsettling, to say the least.

You heed Phillips's warning and stay still in the middle of the tent.

A pair of camo pants fall in front of you. Phillip had tossed them at your feet.

"Put those on." He commanded.

You raise an eyebrow glancing from the cargo pants up to him,

"What? Here?"

"I won't look. Just put them on."

He insisted, turning his back to you completely while he continued to check out the crates. You undo the button of your jeans and pull them off before slipping into the camo pants. They were a bit too large for you.

Phillip turns again without a word. Looking down at a pair of combat boots.

"These too."

He hands you the boots. You were hesitant to replace your sneakers. However, you knew the worn soles wouldn't last much longer with all the walking you'd been doing.

"Take this," Phillip says.

As you finish lacing up the boots, he turns to you, handing you a large rifle similar to the one strapped to his back. You shake your head holding it out an arm's length away from your body. Phillip had already turned away to grab another gun.

"Uh... No, I don't think I should have something like this."

Phillip ignores the remark as he picks out a couple more things from the arsenal. He walks back to you chuckling at your awkward resistance to holding the weapon.

He takes it back and props it against a stack of crates.

"Relax. You shouldn't be afraid of a gun in your own hand. Besides, if you're going to survive in this world you're going to need them."

You try to counter but, Phillip raises his hand signaling you to stay quiet, and kneels in front of you.

"Lift your arms."

You put your arms out to your side watching as Phillip wraps a black belt around your hips. The belt had sandy-colored straps attached to it. With a thick plastic holster slot for a handgun.

"Widen your stance a bit."

You step out, jumping a bit when you feel Phillips's hands on your inner thigh. He buckles the holster around your leg before moving his hands down to cuff the ends of the pants above your boots. His touch is light.

His rough hands begin working away at your boots, tying them tightly and wrapping the laces around the top before tucking the remaining strands against your ankles.

You clear your throat nervously as Phillip stands back up.

"Lookin' good!"

He smiles proudly. His hands rested again on his hips.

"How does it feel?"

You turn your leg a bit as you look down at the military get-up.

"Weird," you reply.

Phillip chuckles and walks back over to the crates.

"You'll get used to it. These will be much more efficient than jeans."

He walks back over holding a large knife covered by a leather sleeve. He reaches down to attach it to your belt opposite the gun holster.

"Now let's look over what we've got."

He grabs your backpack and turns it over kneeling to rummage through your belongings.

He looks over the pistol Ghost had given you.

"Didn't take you for a gun owner," he says setting it to the side.

"Oh... I uh- I'm not. I found it."

Your thoughts wandered back to your fight with Ghost. You still felt guilty about driving him away but, look at how Phillip had been helping. You thought. Maybe it was for the best that Ghost left.

You watch as Phillip splits the food and water rations, moving everything to a tan tactical backpack he'd found. The unnecessary items, like the dim flashlights, and the hammer you'd collected were left in a pile on the ground.

He packed the duffle bag you'd taken from the tent for himself, filling it with ammo, extra weapons, and other equipment.

With his hand outstretched he hands you your new bag. You pull it on over your shoulders, fiddling with the little buckle on the front clicking it over your chest. Admittedly, you felt pretty cool being geared up with all this military equipment.

Phillip straps on his own holster, looking over a pistol before slotting it on his thigh. He steps in front of you holding the pistol from your bag. He had a box of ammo tucked under his arm as he clicked the magazine into place flipping the safety on.

He reaches down to slide it into your holster and steps back placing the box of ammo in your hands.

"If you're going to keep guns on you, Then, you're going to need to learn to shoot."

Your eyes widen in surprise as Phillip throws the duffle bag over his shoulder and grabs two identical riffles.

"What? I- I don't know if-"

Phillip holds his hand up to silence you again.

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you. Here."

He hands you the rifle once again and heads out of the tent. You hesitate to follow, eyeing the little black flashlight Phillip had left out of your bag.

Something inside you couldn't bear to leave behind Ghost's flashlight. Even though it wasn't necessary now with all the new stuff Phillip had gathered, you decided to take it anyway. Opening one of the velcro pockets of the cargo pants, you place the flashlight securely inside.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky as you leaned over the ledge of an apartment building. The rooftop looked out over the city streets littered with infected. You watched them wander below as Phillip prepared your rifle.

"You ready?" He asks.

You step away from the edge taking the rifle from his hand.

"Do I really need to do this?"

You'd been nervous about this idea. You'd never been a big fan of guns and since the outbreak, you'd gotten by just on your ability to run and hide. You hadn't had to kill anyone or anything so far and weren't ready for that to change.

Phillip stands behind you, positioning your arms to hold the rifle properly against your shoulder.

"Now, always remember... The gun has some kickback. So, keep steady. Watch where you hold it on your shoulder you don't want to hurt yourself. Only aim the barrel with the intent to kill and finger off the trigger unless you plan to shoot. Got it?"

You nod and Phillip steps to the side crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, keep your finger off the trigger for now and get a feel for aiming. Look down your sight and line up your crosshair with their heads."

Phillips's instructions were clear but, you were left with so many questions about his life before the outbreak.

"Focus. You want to always aim for the head. Every second counts... Making that a habit will save you one day."

You take a deep breath tightening your grip on the rifle and tilting your head to look down the sight as Phillip had instructed. The movement is slow as you scan the street, trying to line up the cross hair with the head of one of the corpses.

After a few moments of practicing your aim, Phillip gives his next instruction.

"Okay, next I want you to line up your crosshair just like that, but this time pull the trigger."

Your heart pounded in your ears, you were not fond of the idea, to begin with, and now you'd have to do it. Finally, you would have to take a life... Even though you knew the infected were dangerous and no longer human, it didn't sit right with you. They used to be normal people just like you. What would be left if not your humanity?

Phillip waited patiently as you built up your courage, taking in deep breaths to calm your nerves. You scan the crowd again. Your crosshair stopped on the forehead of a woman. You watched her shuffling forward. Her colorless eyes looked straight ahead.

It took all your strength to pull back the trigger. The attached suppressor stifled the loud bang you'd otherwise expected to hear.

You were jolted backward. You'd missed your shot at the woman and gunpowder filled the space beneath your nose. Letting out a loud gasp you let your arms fall from their position, gripping the rifle tightly at your waist.

"It's okay," Phillip reassures.

"Try again, keep your stance tight. You'll need to put a bit of strength in it."

You nod, taking a few more deep breaths to calm your racing pulse.

Raising the rifle again you steady your feet aiming down the rifle once more. Slowly scanning, looking for the same woman as before. Once your crosshair lands on her, you take another deep breath and brace yourself for the impact.

Your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet whizzes through the air landing on your target.

The woman's lifeless body drops to the cement. Adrenaline fills your veins and guilt settles in your stomach. It was a conflict of emotions, excited that you'd succeeded but sad that you'd shot a person.

Phillips' encouraging words broke you from your thoughts.

"Yes! Great job Y/N! Do exactly that. Go again."

The night settled over the city. An orange light illuminated the space around you as you watched the roaring flames of the crackling fire. Phillip had decided it was best to spend the night up here after a long session of gun training.

"You did a good job,"

Phillip says, sitting down across from you.

"You'll need a bit of practice, but I think you've got the hang of the basics."

Although encouraging, you couldn't push away the dreadful ache of guilt in your chest.

"That was the first time I'd ever had to kill one."

You speak up with a sad smile.

"Well..."

Phillip pauses, he gives you a look of understanding.

"I know it's hard... but sometimes we have to make those tough choices if we want to survive."

You thought back to Ghost again. Was his choice to leave you hard for him? Did he think he wouldn't survive if he stuck around?

"Phillip?"

You ask, almost hesitant to finish your question,

"How did you know about all of this?"

Phillip assumed you were referring to the guns and military camp.

"I was in the military... Before all this."

The answer hadn't exactly surprised you.

"The group you were with... Were they from the camp?"

He avoided eye contact with you deciding whether or not to answer you.

"No."

The answer was short and simple like he was holding back.

"But... back at the camp, you'd said that you weren't sure how much of the equipment would still be there. Does that mean you'd been there before?"

He sighed, it was obvious your curiosity had struck a nerve with him.

"Let's just say... I was in the city when it fell. It's not something I'd like to relive so, leave it at that... yeah?"

You had a lot more questions for him but, it didn't feel like a good time to push. So, instead, you changed the subject.

"Thank you."

Confused, Phillip raised his head looking at you over the fire.

"Without all your help... I probably wouldn't have made it today."

Phillip flashes one of his charming smiles. You were glad to see that he cheered up so quickly. He looked prideful even. Evidently, your thanks hadn't gone unappreciated.

"We all need help from time to time. It's like they say... Strength in numbers."

He explains. You smile back before letting your gaze fall. That rule may apply to all but Ghost. You thought.

PART 3.5 (optional) >> PART 4 >>

Tag list

@yourfavbabigirl @keiraslayz @dcnocap207 @dustycrusty09 @ihavetwoholesforareason

#cod au #zombie apocalypse au #cw: gore #graves x reader #ghost x female reader #mw2 fanfic #graves x female reader #phillip graves #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw3 #alkaline writes #☑️mstlst

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jo-harrington · 2 years

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

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