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mitchmarnier · 6 years ago

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L.A Devotee | Chapter 3

Richie looked Eddie’s outfit up and down, and wrinkled up his nose. “Do you own anything that didn’t come from Aeropostale in 2009?”

Eddie gave him a equally disgusted look in return. “Not really.”

[or: child actor Richie Tozier was raised in The Industry, he knows how to play the game. He knows exactly how to keep his head down, and make his way through the famous life without attracting any extra drama. Until his management branch takes an up incoming band under their wing, and enlist Richie to publicly date the lead singer, and that all falls to shit.]

Richie was woken up by a heavy weight bouncing onto the bed beside him. He yelped, gripping angrily at the edge of his mattress as he nearly tumbled off while Audra continuing bouncing on her knees.

“RICHIE! GET UP! RICHARD!” Audra shook Richie’s shoulder until he groaned angrily and swatted at his best friend.

He hunched his shoulders up towards his ears and glowered at her. “You better not be waking me up because of that fuking recording studio shit.It’s not until 11, and I have an alarm set! Let me live!”

Audra yanked the blanket away from Richie’s body and tossed towards the bottom of Richie’s bed. “It’s not about that, but I do think you should take it a little bit more seriously. Nobody’s going to believe it, if you don’t start acting like it’s real.”

Richie rolled his eyes. It had been nearly four weeks since his management had demanded that he parade around with some pretty little songbird on his arm as though they were madly in love, and Richie could admit that he hadn’t seen much of the guy at all. After the awkwardness at the bar between them, he’d been giving Eddie a wide berth. There had been a few arranged meetings- enough that Eddie’s face showed up in tabloids and people Googled who Eddie was. His band’s YouTube channel and SoundCloud had skyrocketed in the last couple weeks, and the management felt now would be a good time to start dropping their singles. Richie was, of course, was expected to be present at the final recording today, if only to be spotted going in and out of the building with Eddie. He was still looking for a way to get out of actually having to sit through the recording process, simply because he’d gone this far without hearing Eddie Kaspbrak sing and he’d like to keep that trend up as long as possible.

Audra hit him with a pillow, and he tossed his hand out to whack at her shoulder. “Richard.” She said, an absolute overjoyed smile covering her face. She held her phone out-stretch towards him, wiggling it in his face. “They nominated you for an Oscar!”

Richie felt as though he went through twenty emotions all at once and didn’t seem to express any of them. He blinked once, and rolled to sit up in his bed. “Guess I’ll take a shower since I’m up anyway.”

He watched how Audra’s face fell and instantly felt bad. He supposed that he should have tried a little harder to act enthusiastic- or tried at all, really- but with the amount of things he was going to have to pretend to feel today, this just wasn’t something he could bring up the strength to do. “Look, I’ll send out a Tweet about being thankful later, I promise. It’s not like I’m going to win it.”

Audra made a wounded noise sound as Richie stood and moved past her towards the bathroom. “That’s so negative! You can’t go into this with such bullshit opinions of yourself! You’re a good actor, Richie!”

Richie rolled his eyes, and yanked his boxers down. He reached into the shower, and pulled the water on. Holding his hand under the stream to feel it warm up to his preferred temperature, he looked back over to Audra. “Okay, first of all- we both know this isn’t about having talent.” Richie continued to rush through as Audra opened her mouth to speak. “And also? That movie was absolute shit. If I had been up for like… Rage… then maybe I could see it. But Secret Window? Ohhh dude kills his wife, big fucking plot twist. We know that if it had been anything less than written and directed by Bill Denbrough that it would have been some trash ass straight-to-Netflix shit.”

“That doesn’t mean your performance was bad.” Audra challenged, but Richie could tell the words were weak. Richie had barely even bothered to memorize the lines for the movie, convinced that it was going to flop whether he worked for it or not. He’d only agreed to do it as a favour to Bill, who had given him so many good roles that he figured it wouldn’t hurt to do a bad one. He remembered being shocked how breaking the film had been and was now even a little bit insulted that it was the role he was being nodded over.

“I haven’t been up for an award since my Teen Choice days.” Richie chuckled. “Most people don’t jump straight from the surfboard to the golden statue. No matter how many years have passed in between.” Audra was still glaring at him and Richie sighed. “Are you done lecturing me? I’m getting in the shower.”

“I am absolutely not done!” Audra said firmly, grabbing the ends of her nightshirt and heaving it over her head. Richie rolled his eyes, stepping under the water and feeling Audra slide in behind him. They settled under the spray and Audra placed her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. ”You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Rich. As usual. You were good in the movie, you played crazy really well! I think it’s one of your best roles, personally. You deserved to be nominated. Take it for the compliment that it is.”

Richie huffed out a breath, pouring some of Audra’s pomegranate shampoo into his hands and reaching to rub it into her hair. “But I don’t take it as compliment. This is just something that is going to make my life more complicated. An excuse to push me into doing more bullshit publicity- and I have enough of that going on.”

Audra raised one eyebrow at him, likely trying to look intimidating but falling flat with the her hair piled up top of her head in a white foam. Richie tried not to laugh. “Not everything is a big scheme with ulterior motives. You’re paranoid as fuck.”

Richie pushed his thumbs against Audra’s chin and encouraged her to tilt her head under the spray. “I don’t know how you aren’t more paranoid, honestly. You really just take things at face value.”

“Not everything,” Audra said, rubbing the soap into Richie’s face a little more aggressively than he felt was necessary. “But sometimes I think it’s okay to believe that something is just a nice thing. No strings attached.”

“There’s always strings.”

Richie waltzed into the recording room, trying to ignore Beverly’s other excited chattering in his ear. Like Audra, she seemed to believe that this nomination was a good thing. What wanted nothing more than to never hear the word “Oscar” again- all apologies to people with the name. He had already resigned himself to having a long couple of weeks, but he was already close to snapping when he noticed Kay perking up at the sight of him.

“Richie! Congratulation-” She hadn’t even finished getting the words out before Richie was waving her off impatiently and dropped himself into one of free cars in the room. He pulled his phone out, but simply scrolled mindlessly through his own photo gallery because the last thing he wanted to do was look anywhere near his social media.

“He’s in little bitch mode,” Beverly said, coming into the room and immediately going to fuss over Ben’s hair. “Just let him stew in it. Auds probably woke him up and you know how he gets when he doesn’t get at least ten hours.”

Richie held his middle finger high above his head and clenched his jaw as he heard the laughter bounce through the small room.

“What are we congratulating Richie for?” Eddie’s voice came then, and Richie couldn’t help glancing up at him. He was wearing a pair of seemingly fitted beige khakis and an actual pink polo shirt, complete with a collar and everything. He looked the perfect boyfriend to some Disney Channel Mary Sue, and it made the back of Richie’s neck burn. “Did he finally find a thrift store that accepts thousand dollars bills?”

God, he barely knew him and yet Eddie Kaspbrak could get under his skin like nobody ever had before. It seemed that he knew just the exact right words to make Richie bristle, and his soul was trained for the exact right moment to toss them out.

“He was nominated for his first Oscar,” Beverly answered, even just sounding like she was rolling her eyes. “And he seems to think that it’s the end of the world.”

“His first?” Eddie’s face seemed confused as he turned to look over at Richie. Richie held his gaze, daring Eddie to piss him off. Eddie just hummed, and turned back to fiddling with his headphones. “I’d have thought you already had at least one.”

Richie narrowed his eyes, brain still trying to decide if that was an insult or not when Stan stormed into the room. “I’m not doing this fucking song. I’m not.”

“Stan you wrote the song, babe.” Ben said softly, Beverly still nit-picking at individual strands of Ben’s hair as though he was going to be on camera at all outside of potential pap pics.

Stan glared at his boyfriend, but the look he cast in Eddie’s direction immediately after was much colder. “I wrote it three years ago, and I didn’t even want to record it for the album. It doesn’t match our sound.”

“It’s a good song, Stanley.” Eddie said sharply, sounding more irritated than Richie had ever heard him before. “It’s strong lyrically, and we’re all well practised in it. And it’ll be a good hook to get people to start listening to us seriously.”

“I don’t want to hook people in by releasing a song that doesn’t sound like any of the rest of the album, Eddie.” Stan’s voice was cold. “Unless, of course, you want to change that, too. We’ve made so many compromises this far, why not?”

Eddie’s shoulders went stiff, his eyes shutted shut and his jaw clenched. Richie marvelled that Eddie Kaspbrak was actually kind of hot when he was pissed off. “The record needs the finished product by midnight, Stanley. We’ve put this off long enough- we’re doing the song.”

Stan looked for a moment like he might keep arguing, but Ben came over and guided him into their booth. They, along with Mike, started mingling around inside with their instruments and Eddie stared blankly at them for a long moment before sighing and moving inside to join his bandmates. Richier couldn’t help staring after Eddie’s departure. Once he was sure that Eddie and his friends had been behind the soundproof area, he turned to Kay and shook his head. “You’re blowing a lot of money on this band. They aren’t going to make it.”

“You haven’t even heard on them yet.” Kay said simply, leaning over the music techs and pointing at certain keys on the board.

“I don’t need to hear them,” Richie said with a shrug. “They could be the most talented band since Queen, and they still aren’t going to make it if they can’t find a way to get along.” Kay pursed her lips and he watched as Beverly turned away nervously. He knew he was right, and he didn’t need an verbally confirmation. He’d told them as much when they’d talked in the bars all those weeks ago- if they conflict this early on, they were doomed to fall apart. It certainly seemed that the drift between Stanley and Eddie had only grown larger since then. Whether Stan was still mad about this little stunt, or if Eddie had done something else since then, Richie wasn’t sure. But he knew it wouldn’t spell anything good for them, if they didn’t work it out soon.

Kay gave Richie a quick signal to shut up, and pressed down on the SPEAK button. “Okay, guys. We’ve burned a lot of time, so we’re going to get right into it. On your four count.”

The other three men all pushed their instruments into place, as Eddie wrapped his hands around the hanging mic and leaned towards it. Some music that might have passed for punk, but definitely leaned more towards pop, came from them as Eddie took a deep breath.

“Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool, all about the bounce in my step… Watch it on the news, whatcha gonna do, I could hit refresh and forget...”

Richie tried not to look impressed, staring stubbornly at his phone. Eddie definitely had the voice for this, and he’d been right about the song being good lyrically. He remembered that when Kay first mentioned them, she’d called them an alternative band… and this was no alternative song. It would do well in the Top 40s- which was no doubt their management’s intention, and what was making Stanley so distressed. It was a sell out, for sure, but if they stuck with it then nobody except them would ever know. That was the way to do it, but it seemed that Eddie’s bandmates might put up a fight about it.

Richie let himself look at Eddie, seeming so Ken-Barbie like in his preppy clothes. It certainly didn’t fit the sound they wanted to sell, and barely fit that in which it seemed like were going to sell. Eddie looked like some Jesse McCartney, 2009 Justin Bieber ass mother fucker. He couldn’t believe Beverly had let it fly for this long.

“Watch me stand in the line, you’re only serving lies, you’ve got something to hide…”

As they wrapped, and the band came fumbling out of the soundbooth, Richie mimicked gagging loudly as Eddie exited. Eddie looked wounded for a moment, before seeming to realize it was Richie mocking him, and quickly flipped his fake boyfriend off. Richie chuckled and pushed to his feet. He patted Stan between the shoulder and nodded at him. “It is a good song, man. Take it as a compliment that they chose it, even if it’s not the one you wanted.”

He was hyper aware of Beverly muttering something about him being a fucking hypocrite, and smirked as he turned to face Eddie. He looked the boy up and down, and wrinkled up his face.”Do you own anything that didn’t come from Aeropostale in 2009?”

Eddie gave him an equally disgusted look in return. “Not really.”

“We’ll have to change that.” It had been a general “we”. It had been such an general we. The most general of we’s. We as in Eddie and somebody who was not Richie. Then Beverly took it upon herself to walk up to them, and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing! Eddie really needs a new look!” Beverly cheered, looking overly smug. “It’s so nice of you to offer to take him, Rich!”

“What?” Richie gasped as Eddie’s mouth dropped open in matching shock. “No, I- I didn’t- I-” But Beverly was already winking at him and walking back to talk to Kay. No doubt to tell her all about how Richie was going to be taking Eddie out to buy new clothes, leaving Richie with no choice but to actually do so. Eddie clearly couldn’t be trusted to purchase his own clothes- hence what he was wearing now- but Richie genuinely hadn’t been expecting to be thrust into that terrible responsibility.

Eddie, to his own credit, looked rather horrified. “You want him to pick out clothes for me? Him? Look at him!” Eddie gestured towards Richie’s outfit, was which- admittedly- rather wild today. He’d paired the skinniest jeans he could find in his closet- a bright, hot pink- with a green shirt covered in cactus’. If you looked closely enough to it, you could see the words don’t be a prick written all over it. “Dude looks like a kiwi!”

Richie huffed. “Look, man. I’m not thrilled about it, either. The less time I have to spent with you the better.”

“I’m a fucking delight, I’ll have you know!” Eddie snapped, Richie watching how his jaw clenched and his eyes flashed. Richie tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly. Eddie’s cheeks began to flush and Richie’s soft smile turned into a wolfish grin.

“Let’s just go, yeah?” Richie said, trying to keep his tone light and friendly. This would be unbearable if Eddie spent the entire time in a funk. “Everybody likes shopping, and you have an endless supply of company money to do it with.”

Eddie was still eyeing him warily. “Promise I’m not going to end up dressing like you?”

“Sweetie. Nobody dresses like me.”

Richie took hold of Eddie’s hand as soon as they stepped into the open parking lot. He felt the way the other boy stiffened, and squeezed as he feared Eddie would pull away. “We have to look like we’re dating,” Richie whispered to him, leaning close enough that their bodies rested together. “There’s going to be a hundred fucking teen bops here, your single drops tonight, and I was just nominated for an award. Eyes are going to be on us.”

“Maybe we’ve picked the wrong day to do this,” Eddie said lightly as he and Richie began walking into the fluorescent light mall.

Richie laughed, small and seemingly genuine. “Kid. From here on out, there’s never going to be a good day to do things. Didn’t you get the you’re-gonna-be-famous crash course? You’re never going to be doing anything again without eyes on you.”

Eddie was quiet for such a long time that Richie eventually had to turn and look at him. Eddie’s hand felt so small in his own, and when he looked at Eddie- he looked small, too. Young. Richie knew they were the same age, give or take a few months, but he supposed that Eddie hadn’t had to grow up the way Richie had. There was still lingering youth in him, confusion about the world he was entering. Richie needed to remind himself that maybe Eddie Kaspbrak was a person under all that attitude.

“Hey, listen.” Richie said, swinging his and Eddie’s joined hands to-and-fro. “It comes with the job. Today is going to be your first day when you absolutely don’t need to worry about money, like at all. I remember the first time I was handed a credit card and let loose in a mall. It was a religious experience.”

Eddie looked Richie up and down, and Richie fully expected another comment about Richie’s choice in clothes but Eddie just frowned. “And you were what? Ten? Even younger?” Richie gave a non-committed hum. He’d been seven when his mother had handed him his first credit card with his own name on it. “I feel bad for you. You have all this stuff, but you’ve never really been allowed to live.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Richie said, wondering if he was convincing Eddie or himself. “I just get in trouble when I do something wrong.”

“I’d wanted to be an actor, when I was little.” Eddie said. “I begged my dad to let me go to auditions, and he told me if I really wanted to be famous- I could wait until I was an adult. He said if you wanted to put your kids into show business, you might as well skip the show business part and stick them right in rehab.”

Richie pursed his lips, wondering how much about his life Eddie actually knew. Somethings could easily be found online, but those facts were never quite right. Even if they came from direct sources. “Your dad sounds like a smart guy. How’d he let you get into a situation like this?”

“He died when I was eleven. Cancer.” Eddie said it so nonchalantly, and Richie felt he might have given himself whiplash turning to look at him. “It was just me and Ma after that, and she wouldn’t hear anything about being famous. Wanted me to stay in Maine, working at some pharmacy downtown, until I died. Made me want it more.”

“So, you’re becoming famous out of spite.” Richie said lightly, always one to dodge any emotional conversation that he could. “I can dig that.”

“I’m trying to become famous because it’s what I’ve always wanted.” Eddie pointed out, clearly trying to control the annoyance on his face. He was already smart enough to know that pictures of them seemingly having a fight shouldn’t be circling so quickly into their relationship. “My Ma was just a big push factor.”

Richie nodded, and then pressed a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head for good measure. Eddie’s eyes went a little wide, but he seemed to manage his shock well otherwise. “We’re going to start here,” Richie said, gesturing towards the Turtle Shack.

Eddie eyed it a little apprehensively. “Do you show there?”

Richie actually laughed, gesturing his free hand towards the store full of blues, blacks and grays. “Does it look like I’d buy anything from there? No, Eddie. If you’re going to be the frontman of some emo alternative band, you can’t walk around looking like Chad Michael Murray.”

“Who?” Eddie asked, frowning. Richie just rolled his eyes, and tugged Eddie into the store. He didn’t have the time or patience to deal with how it seemed that Eddie Kaspbrak had been raised under a big rock in Maine. Were there mountains in Maine? If so, Eddie was probably raised in one. With wolves. Wolves that wore cardigans.

Richie grabbed several shirts and hoodies off the racks and tossed them at Eddie, hardly giving them a full glance. He was firm believer, right now, that anything was an improvement. Eddie didn’t seem convinced, judging by the way he was turning up his nose at them. “Why am I doing this? I don’t get why I have to change my clothes. It feels like lying.”

“Oh, what?” Richie laughed, brushing his hand along his jawline. “Now you’re worried about lying? Try the clothes on, Edward. I was told to take you shopping, and we’re getting you clothes. I don’t care if you ever wear them after this. But you will.”

Eddie scowled, then seemed to remember himself. He came forward and kissed Richie’s cheek quickly, smiling shyly up at him. Batting his eyelashes, and even seeming to blush somehow. “Thanks, baby.”

Richie watched Eddie duck into the change room, shaking his head and knowing his expression was perfectly awestruck. Eddie could have done well, if he’d stuck with his first dream of going into acting. Richie fiddled around with the long racks of pants, fitted and ripped, picking out six or seven. He knocked on the door. “I’ve got pants for you.”

“You’re trying to get me out of my pants, too?” Eddie called over to him through the door. He opened it, already wearing one of the dark Tees. It was a Nirvana shirt, that Richie was sure that he had a matching hiding somewhere in the back of his closet. Taking his shirt off, and placing another on, had left Eddie’s hair flopping out of it’s usually primly styles swoop. He could see the natural curls that Eddie’s hair held, and it was a little endearing.

“Your hair looks good like that.” Richie said, dropping the pants into Eddies hands. Eddie raised his eyebrows and frowned. “Women love the messy look. You could do for that sort of extra boost in popularity.”

“I don’t really care what women find attractive.” Eddie said, smirking. He was joking, probably, but Richie wasn’t in the mood to let Eddie make dumb mistakes right now.

“You should care.”Richie said seriously. “Whether you want to admit it or not, women are going to support your career. It doesn’t matter if you’re gay- they’ll love that, too- but most straight women are still going to want to imagine they could date you.”

Eddie lowered the clothes and suddenly seemed exhausted. “Richie, is anything even real? Everything I’ve done since signing our label has been changing myself, changing my stuff, and pissing off my friends. What’s the point?”

Richie pushed at Eddie’s shoulders and guided them into the dressing room together, knowing that was going make fun headlines. “Kid,” he said seriously, putting the clothes and hanging them up. “You’re too new at this to be so cynical about it. If you’re already not enjoying it, drop out now before it’s too late. But can I give you some advice and you promise not to let it make you think we’re friends?”

“We’ll never be friends,” Eddie answered immediately, but with none that Kaspbrak sass that Richie had already come to recognize. He just sounded tired.

Richie gave him a small smile. “There’s nothing wrong here. You’ve maybe had a bit of a rough beginning, but once your stuff starts circulating and you smooth things over with Stanley, it’s going to be worth it. Just push through.”

Eddie gave him a long, unreadable look then sighed. “Do I still have to get the clothes?”

“Yes.” Richie said with a firm nod. “You need them.”

#reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #lad #why do i only update this fic at ass at night

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