Project: 022 (Eddie Munson Fanfiction)

Dungeons & Dragons

Allora's P.O.V

Rarely enough, this is a Friday I don't have work. Usually, I work 6, sometimes 7 days a week, and I'm sure my bosses would try to get me to work 8 if that were possible.

However, my co-worker needed some extra hours this weekend, and the music shop is never open on weekends, so I get an entire three days off. I am fucking thriving.

My cat is also thrilled. Oatmeal has been mad at me for being gone so often, which isn't new, but now that I'm unexpectedly home, he's been more talkative than usual, if that's possible. He always follows me from room to room, my little shadow, but this is insane.

He hasn't left my side since this morning. Almost tripping me as I walk around the house or from room to room. He actually did make me trip while I was getting dressed this morning, running underneath my legs while I was pulling up my skirt.

I keep staring at the journal on my beside table as if it's a ticking time bomb, my stomach sinking and twisting violently every time I see it. I tried to read more of it, but my handwriting got frantic and scribbly. Combined with how vague and ominous it all is, and my growing anxieties, I couldn't get past even three more pages.

Apparently, the woman in the van told me her name was Dr. Perkins, and that she could help me. I guess I passed out suddenly in the van, not knowing why. Now that I'm older, I assume they drugged me with something.

I had woken up in a white room, a white bed with white sheets, white scrubs and white sneakers. Everything too bright, too pristine.

And then there she was, Dr Perkins, ready to teach me new tricks.

The gang hasn't asked me any more about it since the night I was sent to the hospital, and I haven't been willing to bring it up. The energy is a little different, now. Not entirely, but enough. It makes me sad, it makes me miss the days before all this got brought up. Will telling them even fix the weird vibes? I don't know, and I'm too scared to try anyway.

Eddie and I just barely almost became friends last week when he started working at Tune In, even though we had started the day off on a bat foot. We had a genuine conversation in the van, and the next day, him staying for my shift at the bar was nice too, until it wasn't.

I still have no fucking idea what happened. One minute we were sharing glances over dumb customers, and the next he was cold and harsh again. He almost, just barely warmed up again at the party, and then in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Just like it always is.

Maybe he just really doesn't want to be my friend. Maybe, he just genuinely doesn't like me. I can't blame him, he wouldn't be the first.

He's ignored me for most of the week. Even at work, he barely responds when I ask him to do something, staying unusually silent unless he has a snarky, asshole comment to make directed at me. He talks to the customers that come in for 5 minutes more than he talks to me all day.

And, I'm not much better. I tried, at first. I liked the genuine conversation we had, the glimpse of the Eddie that Robin and Steve talk about. But after the next car ride to the bar, when he didn't say anything the whole ride, including not responding to my 'thank you', I decided I wasn't going to put in any effort if he wasn't.

I still appreciate the rides to work, even though he makes it seem like the biggest inconvenience in the world. Even when he does make it a big deal, though, he refuses to let me walk. He's more stubborn than I am, I have to at least give him props for that.

Now, it's 6:30pm on a Friday, and I got to spend my whole day relaxing. Just, relaxing! What! I didn't even know that was possible. I cleaned up my room a bit, I took a shower, I got dressed, I did my makeup, I'm making some hot chocolate, and...maybe I didn't actually relax as much as I thought I did. But, I don't have work. And that's what matters.