𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 • 𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆

* pyrotechnics *

Christmas came and went in a blur of sparkly decorations and incessant Christmas music. Neither Eddie nor Richie decorated their apartments. They didn't see the point - Eddie always went home for the holidays and Richie had never been the biggest fan of Christmas. Growing up in a poor, not especially doting family meant Christmas had never been treated as anything special. It was a miracle if his father even got it off work. Since moving out, Richie had spent every Christmas with Stan who didn't celebrate, and Beverly, whose family was even more fucked up than Richie's. It was the one day a year Stan would agree to get high with Bev and Richie, and the only day Bev would actually watch movies with the two of them without complaining about their incessant banter.

For Eddie's family, however, Christmas was always an ordeal. Every year since he was born, his entire extended family came to visit, which meant he and his mother spent all of December 23rd cleaning the house in preparation for their arrival. Of course, it was never quite clean enough for Crazy Aunt Magda, about whom Eddie graced Richie with many stories upon his return.

"I mean, seriously ," he was saying now. The street down which they walked wasn't nearly as deserted as usual. It was quarter to midnight on New Year's Eve and the streets were bustling with people. Most were drunk, shouting and laughing rowdily on their way from one party to the next. Some were cheerfully rushing to find the best spots to watch the fireworks, which were bound to start at any minute. A woman hurried past with two young children, one in her right arm and the other clinging to her left hand.

"She knows I'm gay," Eddie went on. "Mom told her the day she found out, but every year she asks if I've got a girlfriend yet and when I'm going to get married. I swear, she thinks if she pretends I'm straight long enough it'll come true."

Richie laughed. "Thank God I don't have to deal with that shit anymore." He hadn't talked much about his parents, but from what Eddie could gather, they weren't exactly close. He didn't think Richie had even seen them since moving out. "My mom calls every year, but it's easy to hang up when she inevitably starts getting on my case about picking a real major and thinking about an actual career."

Eddie smiled uncomfortably. He could only imagine what his own mother would say about Richie's major. Her reaction to Bill's decision to pursue an English degree had been bad enough. "That Bill is such a smart boy," she'd sighed over dinner one night. "What a waste. With his brains, he could study law or medicine; do something useful with his life. He'll never find a job with such a silly degree." At this point, she'd shaken her head and pointed an admonitory finger at Eddie, as if he was the one who had chosen to study English. "Now Eddie Bear, don't you even think about following his footsteps, you hear? You're going to get a good degree, a smart degree. Understand?"

"Yes Mama," he'd said.

"Good. Finish your asparagus, baby, you know you need the vitamins."

"Yes Mama." There was nothing else to say. There never was, really.

Richie would disagree, Eddie thought. Richie would speak his mind no matter what, even if it was best to keep his mouth closed. Whether that was because he was brave or because he just didn't think, Eddie still hadn't decided. But he respected it.

He tried to picture introducing Richie to his mother. She would hate him. Eddie knew that for sure. Not only was he a drama student, but he never shut up and he was kind of rude and very irresponsible - and he smoked . Smoking was about the worst thing a person could do in Sonia's opinion. She would probably rather Eddie be friends with a murderer than a smoker. He could only imagine the way his mother would treat Richie, and the lecture Eddie would receive about being friends with such a terrible influence . He shuddered.