Prisoner of Your Eyes (Eddie Munson)

Prelude

She always got bad nerves before she went on stage. Always. She jumped up and down, sticks gripped tightly in her hands. The drumset gleamed under the stage lights in the Hideout, a decent crowd of 50 or so tonight. She peeked around the corner and saw her brother, Steve, and best friend, Robin, standing near the bar, looking uncomfortable. She knew they had no interest in being in a bar on Thursday night, but there they were.

Andrew, the bass player, looked at her, grinning. "Okay, Harrington?"

"Yeah." She smiled weakly, taking a piece of her short crimson-dyed hair in between her fingers. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You'll be fine, Mary-Jane." Joe came up behind her, his guitar strapped around him. He passed her and emerged on stage, grinning at the audience. She followed him, climbing behind the set and making sure everything was okay. Joe turned to face Mary-Jane, giving the signal to click off. They launched into their first song, thrashing through the whole song and set. The crowd was great that Thursday night, very receptive and actually enjoying the set.

It was a lot better than the usual 5 drunks they got.

An hour later, the band left the stage, all drenched in sweat. Mary-Jane's hand turned red when she wiped her face, feeling another drop flow out.

Damn fucking nosebleeds.

As soon as she made it to the dressing room, she grabbed a tissue and held it viciously to her nose.

"Christ, you okay?" She heard someone ask. She turned around, tissue seeped with crimson color. Steve stood in the doorway.

"Yeah. Just a nosebleed. It stopped."

He sighed. "Good."

"Where's Robin?"

"Bathroom. Are you taking the set home, or..."

She tossed out the paper towel, fixed her hair, and grabbed her sticks. "Andrew said he'd bring it to his place and I could pick it up tomorrow after school."

"Oh, great. More running around for me."

She scoffed. "Shut up. Because you have so much to do tomorrow."

"Working is a thing, kid!" The pair walked out from backstage to the bar, where Robin leaned against the wall. Steve motioned for her to follow, and she rubbed Mary-Jane's back as she did.

"That was killer!"

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. She truly didn't know how to handle praise when it was given to her.

The parking lot in front of the Hideout was dark and shady, so they made their way to the car carefully and quickly, but the other two gained the lead, and soon Mary-Jane was pushed to the ground, sticks, and a pack of smokes scattered on the concrete.

"Holy fuck, I'm so sorry!"

The voice was the only thing in her ears, ringing clear and bright. She regained focus, seeing a mass of dark hair and big eyes above her. "It's okay, really." She scrambled to grab her things, the guy taking a cigarette from the pack before returning it. He grinned cheekily.

"Sorry. Left my pack at home."

He helped her back to her feet, holding his hand out for a shake. She took it firmly. "Eddie. You were really good in there. I've never seen a girl hit that hard."

"Clearly you've never seen one get cat-called, then, because I've seen a lot more hit a lot harder than that when they get called 'babe'."

He laughed, scuffing his Nikes on the ground. "Yeah, you're right." He paused, a look of sudden realization coming over his face. "Shit, you're the girl who started the jazz band, right?"

"You know about that?"

"I mean, the whole school had to watch you guys in the winter."

She shook her head a little. "Yeah, right, sorry. Yeah. I'm kind of surprised you remembered."

"I never forget a badass." He smiled at her, eyes lingering over her body a little. "I'll see you around, then?"

She nodded, waving a little before skipping off to find Steve's car. She threw herself into the backseat, slamming the door. "Who was that?" He asked.

"I fell and he helped me up, that's it. Can we go home, now? I have a test first period." Mary-Jane tried to avoid the conversation as much as possible until they dropped Robin off and she was at home, in her own room. He was an extremely overprotective brother, and she knew he wasn't going to tolerate anyone like that around her.

Hell, Steve would probably blow a gasket if he found out she smoked.

***

Three weeks later, Mary-Jane slammed the door of Steve's car shut, another note in her hands. She was told to stay after to meet with the counselor since she had missed her meeting the day before. She had been coming to her since everything that happened over the summer, and it had been helping, she just hated to admit it.

Instead of scolding her for potentially damaging his car, Steve looked at her hands, taking the note from them and reading.

"Love is blind

And love deceives you

You came along and captured me

Now I'm a prisoner of your eyes"

"What the hell is this, Mary-Jane? Another one?" It was hard to tell if he was furious or found it hilarious, but either way, they were both still stumped on who left them. Her hand flew to her temple, a sharp headache pain shooting through her forehead.

"It's Judas Priest lyrics. Yesterday, it was Kiss, and the day before that it was W.A.S.P, and Monday it was Ozzy. Who the fuck is leaving me lyrics? And how do they even know I listen to this stuff? I don't tell anyone at school about it!" She threw her hands up, the folded paper dropping into her lap. "I swear to god, if it's Henderson, I'll punt that kid to the fucking moon," she muttered. "I don't even know any guys who would actually do this. Most guys would just leave a note to ask to get in your pants, right?" She looked at Steve, who shrugged. He tapped on the steering wheel, avoiding eye contact with her. "Goddamn it, for once I want to know who's doing this. It's been three weeks! Three fucking weeks!" He backed out of the spot, starting home. He was silent. "Do you have anything to say? Or are you going to be quiet for the first time in your fucking life? Please?"

"Kiddo, I don't know, but it's impressive that you even know this lyrics shit."