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"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie scoffed, snatching away his lighter from Bill. "I can handle a smoke, William. You say this like you haven't smoked before, too." Guilt flashed in Bill's eyes and he looked away. Silence fell upon the car,and Eddie got the sense that he had said something inappropriate. He stopped the car on the side of the road, frowning and shutting it off, but nobody moved for a minute.

"I-I quit when my l-l-l-little bruh-bruh-brother st-started," Bill stared firmly, a finalizing tone in his voice. Eddie looked down at his lap and took a deep breath, thinking it over. Mouth pressed into a thin line, he handed Bill the lighter he had nicked at the last party and got out of the car. He heard his friends following him, but he didn't look back. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked, head lowered slightly. It was almost dark enough for the projector to be turned on, but he could already see the bonfire.

Eddie quickened his pace a little bit, and Bev met him at the edge of the crowd, passing him a fresh pack of cigarettes. He was surprised, but he didn't say anything. When he looked up to meet her gaze, she just smiled a bit grimly and nodded, waving at Bill and Ben before walking off. Eddie looked down at the pack in his hands for a second then shoved it in his pocket, running a hand down the side of his face.

"I'm just going to find something to drink," he told his friends quietly. Disinterest crossed Bill's face and disapproval on Ben's, but Eddie just turned around, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his own skin. He walked away slowly, scanning the crowd closely for any signs of the source of all of their cups.

"Well, lookie here! What have you got for me, Eds?" A cup was shoved into Eddie's hands and he took a few sips while the speaker started to search his pockets, removing his pack of cigarettes and putting them away in their own pockets. Eddie downed the rest of the cup, glaring at Richie and tossing the piece of plastic back at him.

"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood." He turned and started to walk away, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. A hand caught his arm at the elbow and he was turned around once more. He took a good look at Richie this time, finally noticing the rosiness of his cheeks and the glazed-over look in his eyes as he clutched Eddie very tightly.

"I think you are in the mood, and that's why you're here," Richie told him quietly, and there was a flicker of clarity in his gaze that caused Eddie's breath to hitch. The brunette pulled his arm away, anger broiling in his stomach, but when a roll of weed was shoved between his lips and lit, he automatically took a hit, then gave it back, turning tail and starting to walk again.

The effects weren't immediate. He had heard from Boris once that a single hit could go a long way if you gave it enough time. Twenty minutes later, Eddie was feeling different. The emotion of his outburst in the car had faded almost completely, and the guilt weighing in the back of his mind was lightened. The chill of the air was sharper in his throat with every intake of breath. Bill and Ben had become mere faces in a sea of faces, people in a sea of people, and Eddie was alone.

Alone was what he wanted. That was all he had ever wanted since his life went to shit. But it somehow felt empty, like something was missing from his aloneness. A movie was playing, but he could hardly pay attention to it. His heart started to pick up it's pace as he pushed through the crowd, stopping in front of the fire. It was dark out now, dark enough that the fire was their main lightsource. Eddie knew he ought to go home sooner this time, rather than later, but at the same time, the wonderfully buzzed chunk of his mind told him to stay, especially when he found himself trapped once again in the never ending abyss of brown eyes boring into his own.