𝑩𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬 , reddie

2

chapter 2

richie tozier makes a scene
"i'll wait."

Richie tozier was behind the counter of the boring green signed pharmacy again. Still shaken up by yesterdays incident. After Mrs. K went all Henry bowers homophobic bullshit on him, he had left in a hurry, going back home to think about the whole incident.

'how would eddie see him now?' is mostly along the lines of what he thought about as he stared sleepily and unable to rest at the blank white wall the rest of the night. Richie was excited to meet eddie, excited to make a new friend and meet the boy behind all the prescriptions.. but now richie was scared. Sure, he had flirted with eddie, somewhat, but what would eddie think of him? eddies mom probably told him about how disgusting richie was.

Richie even thought himself to be disgusting.

"hey loser," greta keene, mr. keene's bratty daughter snaps her fingers in front of richies eyes. richie knew her from school, she was often found terrorising his friendbeverly. "can you restock isle 5?" where eddie fainted.

'disusting.' eddie would reel back. i cant believe i let a gay boy touch me!' richie couldnt stop the scene playing out in his head, eddies disgusted face looming over him.

richie nods "as you wish, mi'lady." greta made a gagging noise. "disgusting" disgusting. gay boy.

richies mind was jumbled, his stomach was churning. he grabbed the box of pregnancy tests, extra strength pills, and 'other medical shit' .  he balanced the cardboard box on his (visibly shaking, if people didn't know better they would think he was a drunk) knee as he opened it, as expected and much to richies dramatic dismay, it slipped off and fell to the floor, spilling medicine packages and bottles everywhere. Richie whined and crouched down to pick them up, melatonin, painkillers, tums, etc. he stocked them back on the shelves lazily, knowing mr. keene probably wont bug him much for it. richie can talk his way out of anything, its all about the accents. if there had been a killer clown in derry, all he'd have to do is bust out the old irish cop accent and poof, no more killer clowns. richie always thought he could talk his way out of anything, but he couldn't talk himself out of school girl crushes on popular boys. richie was disgusting, and everyone thought so.

"richard?" there was a voice behind him.

"richie." he corrected subconsciously. he turned to face the voice, and the face of the voice. eddie the cute motherfucking kaspbrack stood in front of him now.

'jesus richie pull it together' he felt weak. his legs still shook like an earthquake, he slipped his hands in his pockets and pinched his thighs to try and cease the quake.

"oh," eddie looked down at his feet, velcro shoes. dumb. cute, but dumb. 'but cute'. "my momma said it was richard. sorry."

"what else did your mom say?" richie asked, watching eddies face for any sort of reaction.

"whatever the fuck this is is nice and all," gretas bubblegum made a loud pop after she spoke. "but richie, you have to get back to work."

richie closed his eyes for a moment, before looking back at eddie. "will you wait for me?" and that was it, richie mentally cursed at himself. no one wants to wait for a gay boy with adhd and a thousand annoying voices, listen, trashmouth, face the music, the gorgeous eddie kaspbrack doesn't like your dumb ass and he never will.

"yes. ill wait." richie snapped out of his thoughts as eddies voice broke through the air. his voice was a cure to all of richies anxieties.

"you'll wait?" richie watches for confirmation, eddie looks up and nods. "I'll be outside."

richie nodded, he smiled, he eternally swooned. he put all the doubtful voices behind him and got back to work. organising prescriptions, stocking shelves with an unusual hop to his feet. he hummed a tune to himself, the bruce springsteen song that played through the old speakers the other day. it coincidentally played right now, as richie rushed to get his work done so he meet eddie.

"fuckin' bruce." he laughed to himself.

his shift was over before he knew it, he slipped his old backpack over his tired shoulders. "sayonara, miss greta," he bowed. "smell you later." pop.

then he was out the door, beaming.

"hey ed's, they played our song!"

but eddie wasn't there, only his bag, left open and contents spilled.