Dirty Little Secret| Eddie Munson x Reader

Serpents (pt 2)

*CW: underage drinking, emetophobia warning (it's very brief, but i'll put a warning DIRECTLY before and after for y'all)*

Y/n's POV
Saturday, November 16th, 1985.

"I'd like to dedicate this one to a very special girl tonight. It's called Serpents. Hope you like it, baby."

***
"What girl could he possibly be involved with?" Steve snickered, his breath tickling the side of my face as he leaned down to my ear.

"Not a clue," I lied rigidly, gripping my glass so tightly between my fingers I wouldn't have been surprised if it shattered.

Between the wicked smirk on Eddie's lips and the tenacity that he shredded the opening riff with, my demise was becoming certain. I was not getting out of this one unscathed. I downed the rum and coke in my hand, it going down much smoother than anticipated, as I kept my eyes glued to the stage, my imminent doom careening onward at a dangerous speed. Eddie returned my gaze, condescending as ever as he sang, each harsh lyric a freshly sharpened dagger with my name on it, cutting into me. As Jimmy handed me my second drink, my friends laughed on amongst themselves, oblivious to the standoff between Eddie and I as Steve's firm grasp around my shoulders never relented, constricting like a boa around my throat. When I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did, as Eddie sent one last blow directly to my chest.

"This part's just for you, princess," Eddie cooed over the breakdown leading to the bridge, sniveling in smugness as he bored straight into my soul, sealing my death note with a wink.

"She picked me up from my decline,
healed my wounds with love and wine,
dosed me up and closed my eyes, a taste of poison.
She gave me all that I desired, sung the songs of angel choirs, preached the words of death and fire and left me burning."

*emetophobia warning*

Suddenly, the bite of two rum and cokes back to back in conjunction with the sickeningly cruel humiliation clawed it's way back up my throat and it became glaringly obvious: I was going to be sick. I twisted out of Steve's grasp, practically sprinting to the ladies' room before bursting in and hunching over the trash can, retching violently as tears stung at my eyes and acid burned my throat. The only other person in the restroom, an older lady, in her mid forties and thoroughly sloshed, rushed behind me, grabbing my hair out of my face and rubbing my back soothingly as I sobbed pathetically over the large plastic bin. I finally collected myself enough and bent over the sink, rinsing out my mouth before popping in half a tin of of Altoids the nice older lady had given to me. I wiped away the eyeliner streaked under my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ears, trying to mask my too-mortifying public breakdown before stepping out of the bathroom once more. I didn't make it far, just barely getting out of the door before bumping directly into someone.

*end of warning*

"Oh, sorry, Steve, let me get out of your way," I said apologetically, mouth full of half-dissolved mints as I stepped to the side to let him pass.

"It's cool. I was actually looking for you," Steve said, stepping back directly in front of me and resting a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just was dizzy for a minute, needed a breather," I chuckled weakly, crunching what remained of the Altoids between my molars.

"No, I mean in general. You've been...off lately. Not talking as much, distancing yourself from us, always wearing that shirt," Steve said, his voice dripping in concern as he lightly tugged on the shoulder of the ratty flannel. "I've been worried about you, we all are, actually."

Great, my friends were having "y/n's-acting-weird" powwows behind my back. Just great.

"I'm really fine, Steve," I muttered, averting my eyes from his intense gaze.