It (2017) || Imagines ||

Why'd you only call me when you're high? || Richie Tozier

A/N: the description of the drugs and stuff will most likely NOT be accurate. I have never taken drugs so I can't exactly properly describe what it's like, but this is my interpretation 🤷‍♀️😂
Set a couple years in the future. I know Henry was in prison but just forget that for now.
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A dead dad. An alcoholic, neglective mother. A bully boyfriend. Maybe that's why you were in this situation. Taking a long drag of your joint, feeling the sickly taste of Marajiuana on your tongue, burning your throat, but inhaling again. You know your eyes are red, not just from smoking but from lack of sleep. You didn't even know what time it was, but it was early in the morning.
You sit and contemplate. Fuck it. You were going to call him.
You had snuck downstairs earlier, past your snoring, sleeping mother, who had drunk herself to sleep, to take the telephone. She wouldn't notice. She wouldn't care. When did she ever?
Taking another deep breath in, you dial Richie Tozier's number into the phone.
The phone clicks, and your heart beats as you hear shuffling on the other side.
"Hey Tozier," you speak into the phone.
"Y/N? Is that you?" He asks.
"Yeah. Hey."
"It's three in the morning," Richie yawns.
"Three? I've been smoking this for almost an hour?" You think out loud. You hear Richie sigh and then go quiet. You can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Y/N...Why'd you only call me when you're high?" He asks.
"High?" you answer innocently.
"Why do you only call me when you're high?" He repeats.
You contemplate.
"It makes me think. And... I think about you. And us. Plus, I can blame the drug for anything I regret," you say. "You know, you really should try it."
"I'm not trying any of your crackhead shit. Now could you please put it out and go to bed?" He says. You groan and lay down in bed.
"Come onnn, Richie. You used to be fun. Normally at 3am we'd be-"
"That's before you broke up with me," he states quickly. You go quiet.
"If we were still together you wouldn't be like this. I wanna blame Bowers but... I can't. It's your fault."
You hear him move to put the phone down.
"No wait!"
He pauses. You put the joint on your bedside table.
"I miss you. I'm sorry, for everything."
"Sorry won't make me forgive you. Do you know how long it took to get over you? You messed me up, Y/N. Real bad. And I've fought a fucking nightmare clown that tried to murder my friends."
You sigh.
"But I..."
"But what?"
"I still love you."
There you go. You said it. Months after you broke up and shattered his heart. You still loved him.
"Then why the fuck did you dump me?" He demands angrily.
"Because I was scared! I didn't want to lose you because I'm a fucking messed up disappointment," you practically yell. The phone goes silent.
"You never disappointed me. Only when you left me and started with Bowers."
"Richie..." you sniffled.
"I'm sorry. Talk to me when you're not smoking your shit."
The line cut off.