𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐫

cw: abusive relationship, drug mention

[ INT. FLASHBACK: JANUARY 2017. PORTLAND, MAINE. 5 PM.]

"Richie, we're leaving. In like, five minutes. And I hope you're ready, because I've been saying we're 'leaving in five minutes' for like an hour, now." River shouted, which made Richie jump. Richie's head was already hurting - it always was, and he wasn't helping it by lying on his back and staring directly into the sun. His logic, while flawed, was that if he made his eyes hurt, the pain from his head would cease. He applied this to other areas of his life as well - his consequences wouldn't catch up to him if he kept doing more reckless actions.

He certainly was quite a catch.

"Are you ready?" River said, looking at his boyfriend with adoring eyes. His eyes had an exuberant warmth about them - brown eyes. Richie had always loved light brown eyes - the way they gleamed in the sun, and dripped like honey from a honeycomb.

A sharp pang hit Richie in his chest when he looked at River - he didn't know what it was about him. He reminded him of beautiful things, like early springtime when the bees would first come out, or like lighting a candle on the first cold night of winter, watching its subdued glow light up even the darkest of areas. He also reminded him of the aftermath of beautiful things, like when you'd get too close to a bee and it would sting you, like an icarus flying too close to an ignited sun. Or like when you'd discover a crack left open in your window let cold air in, and it would blow out the candle, leaving the glowing corner dark once more.

Richie brought his hands to his face, and rubbed his eyes, leaving the redder than when he was staring at the sun. He turned to face River once more.

"What?" River said, in an innocent tone edging slight annoyance.

The annoyance was understandable. Richie had been a lot to deal with lately - well, more than just lately. Quite frequently, actually. He was needy to the point of being almost pathetic, in his eyes, atleast.

Richie sighed, and stood up from the ground he was lying on. The window was open, the sun still shining through.

"You look great," River continued, inhaling with a sense of anxiety. Richie could tell he was ready to go. Well, from more than just the obvious clues.

"What's wrong? Come here." He said, urging Richie to come closer. Richie sighed once more. "Look, we're gonna go to this party, we're gonna have fun, and you're gonna forget about whatever's on that mind of yours. It's really not good to overthink, and it's not a good look on you if we're being honest." He continued, in his typical arrogant manner of comedy. Richie didn't say anything, still as unamused as ever. He dropped eye contact after this joke.

After a few seconds of silence, River spoke again. "Are you seriously upset? What's wrong?" He said in a more serious, less self-indulgent tone.

"It's nothing." Richie finally replied, in a quiet, distant voice.

"Right, so you're just ignoring me for no reason then?"

"No, that's not it. I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I just want you to talk to me. It feels like there's always something you're not telling me."

No reply.

"Do you wanna go?" River walked up to him, pulling him into a sort of hug/squeeze. Richie flinched, but gave in.

"Jesus christ." River said, flatly.

Richie waited for him to talk. River didn't, nor did he let go from the hug. Richie up at him after a few seconds - the silence after such an exclamatory statement was excessively unsettling.

"Are you on something?"

Richie's heart fell a bit, and he struggled to pick it back up. He didn't answer, and stared down at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed. It was a difficult and an upsetting statement to hear - the tone was undecipherable. Was it annoyance? Disappointment? Sadness? All of the above? It seemed to always shift between those three, at no one else's fault but his own.

"What the fuck, Richie? I thought you quit." He said, quite crassly, raising his voice.

"I did."

"You clearly didn't. What the fuck?"

"Why are you so mad at me?" Richie retorted, defensively.

"Because I'm the one who actually cares about you, and loves you? I dealt with all your shit because I thought it would turn out better in the end. I thought you were recovering, getting back on your feet, and then we could be okay. We could finally be okay, yeah, okay, and happy, but i dealt with all of it just for you to still be doing drugs." River frantically spewed.

"Wait, what? I care about you too."

"Don't give me that bullshit. If you cared about me you would have stopped. If you cared of me you would have realized that I've been waiting for you, been trying to help you-"

"Help me by taking me to parties that make me want to do drugs more? Don't forget where I first GOT them from. But you never want to talk about that. You never want to talk about your friends, you coercing me into starting in the first place. You dragging me to these fucking parties. Yeah, these fucking parties that help no one but you so you can find your next person to ruthlessly exploit." Richie said in a sturdy, yet dim voice. He felt sick.

"Exploit? Holy shit. I never made you do drugs."

"Didn't you, though?"

"You're sixteen. I want the best for you-"

"I'm a fucking child! You're almost nineteen. That is an adult. Don't you think you should have cared more about an actual child? Yeah, sure. You got clean. Did you ever think about me though? Me, who you just left in your dust? I'm still trying to pick up the broken pieces of my life, the shit that your drugs made me do, but no, this is amazing, life is amazing, you bought a new apartment. A new apartment with the dirty money you got from selling drugs to fucking children."

"You wanna be a child now? Funny how that works. You wanna use your age to have some sort of moral high ground. Last time I recall, you were the one doing lines at college parties when you're a high schooler."

"A party who invited me to?"

...

"What?"

"Who invited me to those parties? You did."

"You had a choice, Richie." River snapped back, with a new sharpness in his tone.

"You could have been a kid. You could have gone to your homecoming dance, or went to the drive-in with your friends. You wanted to come with us, and that's just a price you're going to have to pay. You wanted to get kicked out three times, or else you would have worked your ass off to make sure that wouldn't have happened. Everything that's happened has been because of you and your own mistakes."

"So, following your line of logic here, I'm assuming it was your fault for getting Alayna killed, right?"
...

Richie had a sudden rush of braveness. He could tell he struck a nerve. His braveness faltered, and nerves returned when he saw River's icy glare.

...

"I'm-"Before he could say anything, River pulled out a gun.