welcome to my personal hell, gift shop on your right

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A/N: This is an alternate universe without the sloppy bitch

You know what that means! The losers are growing up at an appropriate rate, they don't have trauma (from the clown at least.) and DRUMROLL PLEASE...

OUR KING GEORGE DENBROUGH IS VERY ALIVE!

The dynamics in this book are a bit different. The losers are all still friends, but in this universe, Stanley is less awww bird boy and more snarky asshole. I SWEAR I'm not making Eddie an uwu boy, but I will mention his beautiful hazel eyes every chance I get. Richie is still a cocky class clown whose only goal is to make Eddie laugh, at which he seldom succeeds.

And Bill Denbrough is the kind of guy that thinks of sassy things to say in his head a month after an argument. I don't make the rules.

This book takes place in the year 1990, where the losers are half heartedly heading into high school (alliteration!) where more surprises than familiarity is lurking...

All told from the perspective of your favorite Stephen King self-insert, Bill Denbrough! (183 words)

Okay, let's get this straight.

When it comes to my studies, I'm usually a pretty good learner, y'know? But this year I had all kinds of distractions. The shit school play Richie Tozier dragged me and the losers into, the mullet wearing asshole that made my life a living hell each day, and the irritating Stanley Uris. (Not to be confused with the mullet wearing asshole.)

All and more are to blame for my less than admirable actions, and I guess that's why I'm writing this. I was not the only person responsible for "the great 1990 incident of Derry High". I would even argue I'm a victim in this situation if I thought anybody would believe me.

It wasn't my fault Stanley turned out to be a stage manager in "A Midsummer Night's Dream", or that he was so bad at it that one of the leads quit. It wasn't my fault that I had rumors about me that had to be settled, and how else was I supposed to get rid of them? Hm? Don't be shy, get creative. I'd like to know what was so weird about my method.

I'd like to see people laughing when they read the shit I say about them in my biography, then everybody will be sorry.

In case Greta Bowie is reading this, no, I don't stutter in my thoughts. I would've hoped you could tell by now, but I guess some people are running low on common sense these days.

The point is, I don't deserve anything that I'm about to describe to you. I've been a perfectly good human being for the majority of my life. Also, don't disclose this to Henry Bowers. Actually, don't disclose this to anybody. It's not going to help the rumors that I have a "main character complex", whatever that means.

Whatever. Buckle up. It's a messy ride.

(Don't take that out of context, Richie. Also, stop reading this.)

I've recently started reading the educational-

Okay, Richie's gone.

This actually all started after the summer we losers started sticking up for each other. We had pretty fun times, even though one of us was generally fun hating. I dealt with that, and I dealt with the bullies. But nothing would prepare me for the actual school year that followed.

I thought that after middle school, more of my innocence couldn't be stripped away from me. But honestly, when I walked through the halls trying to find the others, the number of couples I saw making out was astonishing.

It was as though all of the other boys my age had some sort of magic hormonal switch in them that made them suddenly date the nearest girl nearby. Personally, that never really appealed to me.

Girls are nice and all, and Beverly is my role model, but the only person in the losers club who had that switch was Ben, as he was constantly pining after Beverly. That wasn't as much as a change from his middle school years, and I say this with full respect. But even he wasn't on the level of seemingly every other boy in Derry High. I dunno, maybe my lack of interest was a freshman thing.

Speaking of, is it normal for everybody else to say "freshman" like it's a slur? Personally I didn't find it that offensive, but maybe it means something outside of Maine.

As I wandered the halls, I found Eddie looking visibly disgusted as he came out of the boy's bathroom. I grimaced. "T-Tough time?" He nodded, speaking in a small voice. "It's a battlefield in there. It might be worse than middle school." I sighed and gave him a pat on the back. "Let's ju-u-ust g-go to morning a-area. I th-think the oth-thers are th-here."

"Mike is so lucky he's homeschooled."

Sure enough, as Eddie and I entered the gym, we saw the rest of the losers sitting on the higher rows of the bleachers, the other benches being mostly taken up the popular crowd. "Eds! Bill!"

Richie hadn't changed a bit from his middle school self, only that he had gone through a growth spurt over the summer, but you wouldn't be able to tell from his poor posture. He had gained more freckles, if that was possible, from being in the sun all summer.

Eddie silently scowled at Richie as we walked over to the benches, me following after and apologizing to the people we stepped over although the majority of them tried to trip me. Eddie himself hadn't changed in personality or height, and respectfully, it didn't seem like he would any time soon.

"You have way too much energy this soon in the morning." Ben grumbled in response to Richie's loud greeting. Ben had also grew, although he wasn't as tall as Richie. He had more than a couple of inches on Eddie, even though Eddie insisted just last summer they were the same height.

Me and Eddie sat down as Bev spoke wryly. "I dunno, that's standard Trashmouth behavior in my book." She was still into fashion, and sported the same short red hair that she could've probably grown out by now, but honestly still suited. Bev was an early sprouter, and she was now about the same height as Ben.

"Um, I go to sleep at 7 PM like a good student. Just like you, Stan. Isn't that right?"

Stanley, of course, was already buried in a book. The only response he felt we were worthy of was a small huff.

If getting more bitchy counted as a personal growth, he definitely achieved that. Of course we never said within the group that we disliked each other, because Stan was Richie's best friend before he joined me and Eddie. I guess the others must tolerate Stan, because they seem alright with him.

Me? Oh, I could talk about him for days. Because of his annoying-ness. His stupid remarks and comebacks to things I never have to even say, his birdwatching obsession (seriously, who bird watches of all things?) his affinity for everything except actual fun- I could rant for hours.

He glanced up at me, blinked, then looked back at his book with the same bored expression.

"H-Hello to you too." I muttered.




A/N: What do we think so far?

Word count: 1203

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