It Must Have Been Something You Said.

Prologue

Richie had done acid; that was his mistake. While sober, he never would have committed the atrocity that landed him in a juvenile detention centre at fifteen years of age, but, unfortunately, that night he had been so far from sober.

New friends could be unpredictable, but new friends could also be amazing, and that was how Richie's recently acquired amigos seemed. To the naked eye, Cormac and Xavier were kind and real; no traces of falsity lined their personalities.

Charismatic and social, Cormac was more than a people person. He possessed the skills to read every part of a room, allowing him to know exactly how to act and what to say; his presence radiated likeableness. Plagued by perfectionistic tendencies, he was occasionally judgemental and a tad rude.

Xavier could only be described as crude. In all he did, he performed without care for others, and somehow incorporated many sexual factors. He was stupid, really, but this made him incredibly amusing.

Then, one day, it was discovered that they smoked, drank, and occasionally partook in the act of consuming slightly harder drugs. To Richie, this was alright. Doing drugs did not make you a bad person; getting others into bad habits and influencing them to do illegal things, however, did.

Everyone in Derry knew what he did. Nobody actually spread the word, yet the knowledge was held by all.

He drugged Stan.

God, how he hated what he did. He hated how he crushed up the tab of LSD and poured it into his friend's drink. He hated how this drug was not meant to be taken while not in a good state of mind.

He hated that Stanley had tried to kill himself.

Out of fear, the curly haired boy fled Derry as soon as he was out of the hospital, despite the fact his "attacker" was locked up. Richie heard of this, as well as Cormac and Xavier disappearing without a trace.

Three years later, it was time for Richie to flee too. The only difference was that he was not leaving Derry—he was leaving the detention centre. He was getting out.

He knew he would not be accepted. He knew his old friends would not be keen to socialize with him.

Except Eddie.

When Richie was cuffed—arrested for his fault—Eddie promised that he would see him at least once; he would give him a chance. Of course the law he violated was horrid, but Eddie knew the effects of drugs such as acid. It was acknowledged by himself that it was not entirely Richie's doing.

Peer influence combined with an altered state of mind.

That was what did it. If Eddie continued to tell himself that, chanting the bold words in his mind as though it were a mantra, it made him feel slightly better.

Peer influence combined with an altered state of mind.

That was what did it.

Eddie hoped that was what did it, at least. 

[ AN // if this recieves enough feedback, a complete fic will be written!! i have really cool ideas, i am just in need of inspiration.]