Innocent | Eddie Munson x OC

Chapter 1

The news hit me like a piano in a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. All I could think was, how did we get here? As much as I pondered, I couldn't quite comprehend. And so I backed into the safe memories, blocking the sob in my throat with the first stage of grief, denial. He couldn't have done this. Every memory still felt real. This would negate it all- ruin everything I'd ever known of Eddie Munson, metal king, major geek lord- passionate, rambunctious, pure-hearted Eddie Munson.

Only a little less than a year ago, I began to know Eddie.

It was grad week. It wasn't mandatory for me to go to school this last week- I'd taken most of my finals and prepared for the upcoming ceremony. I decided to attend, however, stuck in the desperate final loop of finding myself. I knew I wouldn't see many of the people I went to high school with ever again, which is maybe why I felt particularly inclined to burn or build bridges in the final week. I was coming to the scary realization that I didn't know who I was or wanted to be. Applying and choosing a college had already passed, and I missed that milestone. The only thing I knew about myself was that I wanted to be someone. And the best way to figure out who that someone was- without wasting thousands of dollars on tuition- was to talk to people who seemed like someone.

It was no secret that my friends were a little less than sure about what they wanted to contribute to the world. And while I could understand that head space, part of me blamed the company I kept on my current state. High school was a game of fitting in, and we'd gotten way too involved in it. I wasn't incredibly popular, but I was certainly in that crowd of "generally accepted, cookie cutter" students. It had taken great effort to reach that level of ordinary.

No more. It was time to execute plan, "mold my own cookie."

Around lunchtime I prowled the cafeteria thoughtfully, taking in the different groups of teenagers. It was funny looking at everyone now- stuck inside our little bubbles. A few people stood out, though. Steve Harrington, although having been the biggest cookie cutter boy of all, was sitting away from his friends. I knew he wasn't as involved with them, but cutting them off? Part of me wanted to dig into it, but another part was louder, urging me to move past my drama-sniffing tendency. Instead, I let my line of sight continue to trail. And it stopped on an obvious, yet intimidating personality. Eddie Munson, second-time senior. There was no coming back from talking with Munson. Eddie was the leader of a Dungeons and Dragons group, with something to do with hell, hellbats? Hellish? Something like that. He had been in a few bands early on before having a hissy fit over "creative differences", starting his own with his other rocker nerd friends. He was socially radioactive, harassed anyone who approached his table during a lunchtime tirade, and seemed like a general menace to society.

I was about to approach his table as I was unexpectedly interrupted by a quick blur of bright red hair.

"Milo- hey- hey!" Rowan stopped me in my tracks. "I saw you come in- aren't you gonna sit with us?"

I glanced back to see Carol had joined our usual table, most likely something to do with the Steve situation. Her presence alone made my decision. Rowan had always sort of been my wing-woman, and leaving her to deal with Carol seemed a bit rude- but there was no way I would be wasting my hour with the queen of no-thoughts-head-empty.

"I was actually thinking about sitting somewhere else today," I explained calmly, eyeing her response warily.

I watched as the cogs turned in her head, with a quick flit of her eyes between the hell-guys table and our own. A confused frown met her brow, and I could tell she was struggling to use the right words.

"I don't think that is the best idea." She enunciated. "Why would you wanna sit with him? Doesn't he make fun of us?"

"Not me specifically," I corrected, "But we certainly make fun of him."

"Milo- now is not the time to take a moral stand." Rowan snipped in exasperation. "It's your goodbye party! This is your final week. Come spend it with your friends."

"You're my only real friend." I admitted. "I'd really liked to make a few other real ones before I can't anymore."

I stepped away from her sputtering figure, and as I chanced a look at the table I was closing in on, I found its leading man already watching my approach. I maintained eye contact, determined not to immediately flake out and regret my decision. My legs suddenly felt like jelly, something I had believed to have grown out of. I swallowed the fear in my throat and placed my tray down, trying not to come off as too apprehensive.

"You look like you regret this decision already." Eddie greeted bemusedly.

So I failed that skill check.

"No- I – hi. You're Eddie, Jeff, Grant, Brian and Gareth, right?" I managed to get out.

"Milo Moore, fifth period, Mr. Johnson's class, party girl, sitting at my table like she belongs here."

"You missed the ball-hoop game." I pointed out, referencing one of his latest lunchroom spiels. "I do love me a ball-hoop match."

"Why do you seek my counsel?" He waved a fanned hand in the air, and suddenly his position seemed much more like a lunchroom throne.

"I- I was in the neighborhood." I said dumbly.

There was silence, in which the awkward energy had become so thick I felt like I'd somehow created a multiversal rift that was never supposed to occur.

"I think I know what this is about." Eddie finally surmised. "And all I have to say to you, is come by the Hideout tonight, watch a set, we can chat more there. Sound like a plan?"

I certainly had lost sight of 'what this was about', but the sets of judgmental eyes on my figure were enough to make me agree blindly and make an escape.

"Cool, sounds like a deal. I'm gonna, like, go now. Bye."

I jumped up from my seat and retreated before I could hear any insults I was sure to receive. Had I lingered, I may have noticed that it wasn't hatred, but curiosity that reflected in his eyes. There were definitely some jeers from his friends, though. And in the same line of thought, some from my friends, too. But those mumblings I had the pleasure of hearing at the time they occurred and not in hindsight. Unsure where I was welcome to sit now, I opted for Harrington's lonely table. He glanced up, raising his brows.

"What, you can't stand Carol either?"

While not my primary reason anymore for the current company, I shrugged in agreement. "She talks a lot for having nothing to say."

Steve gave a short snort, going back to his lunch. I began shoveling my meal into my mouth to make up for lost time, sneaking little glances over towards Eddie's table. It was mostly shielded from my vision until the last glance, in which my fully-stuffed face caught his eye again, and I shared 3 seconds of embarrassed agony pretending I'd never looked over, choking down my food into the crook of my elbow.

Steve blinked at me, and all I managed to wheeze out was "Spicy."

I was eating mashed potatoes.

Eddie laughed at my dumb ass across the cafeteria.

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Hello!! Each chapter I'm going to either choose a song or feature a photo. This chapter, I'd like to introduce the main idea of Milo, Frank Sinatra's My Way.

Let me know thoughts so far down below!

-Donny