ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏᴡᴀʀᴅ ꜱᴏɴ

420 16 13
                                    


With a grunt, Lorraine managed to lift the crate of beers from the pile and set it aside for tomorrow night. The bar was empty, the smell of beer and sweat filled the air. She wiped her moist forehead with the backside of her arm, placing her hands on her hips. She sighed and looked in the mirror in front of her, only catching a glimpse of herself between bottles of whisky and rum.

She couldn't recognize the person who looked back, although she knew the same sandy-blonde hair, straight and crisp, those hazel eyes held together by deep sunken bags underneath. Who is that, loser? She thought to herself. You were gonna be a writer, what are you doing working at a this shot hole. She blinked slowly, as if to avoid contact with someone she used to know, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans and pulling out a carton of cigarettes. She stuck one into her mouth, lighting it and enjoying the bitterly crisp smoke.

She heard the door open and close, she whipped her head towards the direction of the entrance.

"We're closed!", she shouted. She really didn't want to have to deal with the late night drunks tonight, she wanted to head home, sleep. Or at least try to.

"Well, I haven't heard that voice in years." A husky, deep voice chimed from behind a pillar. The cigarette in her mouth hung loosely, as her mouth gaped open into a surprised expression. It wasn't fear. It wasn't shock. It was a euphoric wave of something that went through her.

"How are ya', Lorraine Wallace?" The man leaned his crossed arms on the bar, smiling so hard. His deep, chocolate eyes glimmered in the low light of the venue. Lorraine swallowed, snapping out of the paralzyed state and grabbing a hold of the cigarette, taking a drag before speaking as if to help her lungs muster the action.

"Well I'll be damned," she chuckled, turning herself around to face the new customer. "If it isn't the legend himself, Eddie Munson." Eddie threw his hands up a little, as if showing off an entity that only a few had the privilege of witnessing.

"What are you doing all the way in the city?", the girl continued, surprised to have seen him around these parts. She left Hawkins two years ago, the day she graduated, hoping to find a new life to live, the one she always dreamt of. Although Eddie was her closest friend, it pained her to even talk to him, thinking he would be disappointed in what she had, or more so, hadn't accomplished.

"Ah, so you can run off to the city and I can't?" He grinned, playfully teasing her. It hurt a little, she felt like wincing, bracing for the impact of something worse. She didn't move a muscle though, her demeanor solid as a rock. Eddie brushed his hand through his hair and continued, a little nervous to speak.

"Just kidding," he chuckled, although a little tense. "I'm here to leave a flier, my band is playing here next month." Eddie fixed his posture, now standing straighter, sticking his hand into his jean jacket pocket and taking out a crumpled piece of yellow paper. He unfolded it, tried to straighten it as best as he could, and slid it across the bar to show Lorraine.

"You still play in Corroded Coffin?" She smiled, a wave of memories hitting her like an ocean breeze. It was like in the distance she could hear Eddie's manic voice struggling to explain to his band mates what exactly he wanted to do, mixed with the sound of late nights playing guitar in his trailer, the metallic sound of strings being plucked...

"Yeah, well, in Hawkins you know how it goes," he smiled shyly, lifting his hand behind his head, scratching. "We need to expand our horizons."

"I'm glad," she solemnly said, her smile drowning into a faint line on her face. Eddie could no longer see the glimmer of happiness that was there moments ago. It was like watching a flower wilt in the shade. Lorraine took the flier and left it beside the phone book, nodding. "I'll leave it for my manager to hang up tomorrow night."

"You'll be there, right?"

"Probably, I haven't talked to my manager yet." She shrugged, putting the half smoked cigarette in her mouth, turning her back to Eddie and continuing to lift cases off the pile and setting them down next to the industrial cooler. "My schedule is fucked up, at the moment."

"Ah, well.." He trailed off, not sure how to take the cold feeling that rained over him, even in the summer heat. "I hope you can make it."

"It was nice to see ya, Eddie." She almost cut him off, turning to look at Eddie, leaving another crate on the floor. "I have to close up, so.." She wiped off her hands, taking the last drag of her cigarette and putting it out in the sink closest to her.

"Oh, ye- yeah, of course", Eddie stammered, lowering his eyes from hers. "It was great to see ya again, Lorry." He mustered out in an almost soft whisper. He gathered himself, standing taller than before, gripping the ends of his jacket and placing a hand on his forehead, giving a military salute, "'Till next time!" he said confidently, turning on his heel and returning to the direction of the entrance.

Lorraine heard the door close and let out a hard sigh, a gasp of breath leaving her body as if she had been carrying a ton of bricks up a mountain. She shut her eyes tight, scrunching her nose, pushing away the feeling that was building up inside her. Turning to the crates once more, she caught herself in the mirror. Her eyes glazed with a thin layer of sheen, she bit the inside of her cheek and continued to unpack beers.

How could he still be so bright, full of energy, she thought to herself. The glimmer of hope he still had in his heart was something you don't normally see. Eddie was always loud and proud, whereas she would struggle to maintain everything in a neat little box. Unapologetically Eddie, she smirked to herself.

But Eddie didn't know that although she had been gone for so long, she'd soon be back. No one escapes the grim reality of the trailer park, not even Lorraine Wallace.


˜ " * ° • . ✫ . • ° * " ˜

I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter :)

Title: Carry On My Wayward Son - Kansas


ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ [eddie munson]Where stories live. Discover now