27 years| Reddie

Half The World Away

2015

Richie rolls out of bed. He hates the time zones from LA and New York. New York is one of his favourite places to do shows and he's here for a whole month doing just New York shows and interviews. Going on talk shows makes him nervous but he manages to get through it.

The 39 year old showers and then does his teeth before getting dressed. He has to look somewhat smart, so he throws on black jeans, a dark gray T-shirt and a dark blue blazer. He looks at himself in the mirror, Half the World Away by Oasis playing on his record player. He's renting an apartment in New York. It's small but cozy. He decides that he looks presentable enough for TV and then he heads off to the kitchen, singing along to the song softly as he begins to make his breakfast.

Five years sober and still taking his medication, Richie smiles as he reaches into the medicine cabinet after he's eaten, taking the appropriate meds. Ever since rehab, he's started taking care of himself more, and his parents are proud of that fact.

Once he decides he's ready, he turns off his record player and removes the vinyl, putting it back into its sleeve. He grins and then slips on his shoes before grabbing his keys. He's meeting Steve for coffee so he leaves his apartment, shooting him a quick text telling him that he's on his way.

Richie rushes down the stairs and out of the apartment building, the New York atmosphere sparking adrenaline inside of him. He grins as he begins to walk, feeling light on his feet and happy.

"Sorry!" He apologises as he accidentally bumps the shoulder of a businessman trying to get to work. The man rolls his eyes and Richie scoffs. How charming of the small brunette. A small, angry, brunette. Richie's type.

"Myra, I've told you! I'm fine!" Richie hears the man say as he walks away, talking into his phone. The deep voice sounds familiar and Richie feels butterflies in his stomach.

Richie stops himself from looking back over his shoulder to check the guy out as he's already running late to meet Steve. Instead, he brings up his Spotify and shoves an earphone in his ear, pressing play on a playlist, Call Me by Blondie blasting as he pushes through the bustling New York streets.

The coffee shop is small and Richie pushes the door open, Steve already sat at a table with two coffees. Richie stops his music, takes out his earphone and shoves his phone into his pocket, sitting down and greeting Steve with a grin. Steve smiles back and slides Richie his coffee.

"You know me well." Richie says with a slight chuckle. Steve got him black coffee. The comedian takes the mug in his hands and lets out a sigh of relief.

"How're you feeling about this TV thing?" Steve asks as Richie sips his coffee.

"Nervous but it's nothing I can't handle." He replies with a small smile. Steve nods and sips on his own coffee." I've taken my meds so I should be fine. No nervous vomiting."

Nervous vomiting was something Richie had discovered he did ten years ago. He'd been getting ready for a show and had been overcome with nerves. He'd rushed to the bathroom and thrown up into the toilet.

"You said that last time and you almost threw up on air." Steve says with a slight chuckle. Richie laughs as he remembers his last TV talk show appearance. It had been a few years after coming out of rehab and he was trying to get his career back on track after almost ruining it.

The two make idle small talk, Steve slightly flirty like usual. But Richie wasn't returning it. He couldn't get that mans voice out of his head. He didn't know where he recognised it from and why he'd felt weird when he'd heard it. He shook the thoughts away and smiled at Steve.