Brightside | ✓

07 | eddie in the bathroom

How was Eddie supposed to react when Axel rewrote some of Maverick's lyrics and the chorus of Kill Me Now was Drunk on what you left at the bar / ACAB but John, I'll die hard / I'm real upset that you're gone / Cold shoulder's chillin' me out / No time for my filthy mouth / Save us both and just kill me now?

Was she meant to fall to her knees with sheer delight? Was she meant to swoon? To fall in love? Was she meant to take him by the hand and run out of the studio off into the orange, glistening sunset?

Because she went with her first reaction. Which was to run. Hide in the washroom and pretend she didn't exist. Eddie was great at running when she didn't want to throw fists. Well. She was still deciding if Axel was going to get punched for that—but he deserved her thinking before she punched, he did make her breakfast.

When Eddie decided she wanted to be a boxer, she knew that her life would never be exactly the same as it was before she was in the public eye. That they would see her at her worst, bloodied, bruised, battered. She expected heinous camera flashes and she expected narratives that didn't suit her going around the internet and social media. No media training or public relations person could have taught her the proper way to behave when a song was oh so clearly written about her and it wasn't even that bad, but Eddie had had one of the worst nights of her life and she wanted to curl up in bed and call her sister and cry over the phone but that would mean she would have to explain herself and any thought of telling someone else brought the taste of vomit to her mouth. No one can teach someone how to react to something like that. Not even the highly trained. There were many reasons why Eddie was scarcely allowed to talk to the press alone, after all.

What Eddie didn't expect was how much that attention would impact her. It made people from all genders look her way in ways that were wonderful and terrible and she couldn't always tell which way it was leaning. How she'd never had a panic attack before but now? Well. She was still looking for a sports psychologist she enjoyed the presence of. That was something she was working on. For now? She would continue running away from her problems.

"Eddie?" Maybe Stevie was onto something when she said that Everleigh's voice was one of the most calming things she'd ever heard. (Though right after she did say her biggest character flaw was being British despite enjoying the accent a little too much.) (Fair enough.) (The noogie Stevie gave Maverick after for falling for the enemy seemed, mostly, lighthearted.)

Eddie stayed quiet. It's not like she was hiding in a stall, she was out in the open. Ready to run straight out of the building—either front door or through the nearest window, no matter how high the studio was. A fall from whatever storey they were on was welcomed if it rid Eddie of every emotion scampering through her brain like rats in a gritty New York sub station.

Everleigh gave her a small smile. Eyebrows pinched, but only slightly. Like she knew Eddie hated sympathy. Knew it through and through. "It's weird, isn't it?"

Eddie frowned. Tried to pull on the most neutral face she could. "What?"

Everleigh wrinkled her nose a little. "People singing about you. Specifically you. Not in a wow, they really get me kind of way, either."

"Oh." Eddie let out a weak chuckle. Almost a scoff. "That wasn't about me."

Everleigh took a couple steps toward Eddie, not too quick. She was afraid of spooking her and who wouldn't be when Eddie was known for throwing punches when she was upset? "I was in a studio in LA a couple years ago, doing statistics homework of all things. And, really, I wasn't sure why I was there. I'll be honest with you. I went because I was invited and my favourite band was going to be there and how was I to say no to that?"