𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 | 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

After that fateful night, a lot changed for both Eddie and Richie. The police never found the body. He was reported as missing, and quickly, the case was dropped. People went missing in Derry all the time - there was too much happening for the police to focus on one missing person. Eddie had to get the fuck out. He was telling some of the truth to Eddie when they met again - He did move out of Derry on his own volition, but it wasn't the most ideal circumstances.

When he got home that night with blood all over him sobbing, his mother Sonia just figured that he was with that "Richie boy". Sonia "knew" that Richie had hurt him in some way. She didn't even let Eddie explain the situation to her - She just knew that he had to leave. She told him to pack up his things and go. Her explanation was that she was "tired of watching him let Richie take advantage of him" and that Richie was "poisoning him and turning him into a queer".

Eddie was depressed, living in a shitty motel just outside of Derry for a few weeks. He didn't leave the motel at all until six weeks after the accident happened. The worst part of it? Richie never came back. Not to the woods. Not to find out where he went. Not texting or calling him with an explanation.

Eddie turned fourteen soon and got a job at a convenience store just to afford living in the motel. He shut himself off completely. He didn't really talk to anyone, not even the Losers, who had been his best friends for a while. And obviously not Richie. Deep down, he was just scared to be himself - He saw where that got him that night.

After working for two years, he got himself a job as an online intern at Vogue, despite only being fifteen (bordering sixteen) after having a glowing recommendation. He was an ambitious, hard worker, even while attending school, because that was all he had going for him. He didn't have to worry about friends or anything else to hold him back. It was just work, school, repeat. It worked out well for him financial wise. He could finally move out of that awful motel and into an apartment. He didn't know where to go, he just knew he had to be further from Derry. 'The closer to work, the better' was his mentality, so he moved closer to Portland to work at the office there rather than working from 'home'. He figured it could work out with school too, as he could just go to a different high school.

Eddie kept himself busy a lot with work and school. It was a good distraction so he didn't have to think about, well, everything. He kept his life full of schedules and events - work, school, debate team, student body, academic decathlon, tutor, beta club, volunteer work, key club - everything.

Eddie wasn't popular at school, but he was decently known. He was either well-liked by people or hated, there was no in between. He wanted to keep a good image, but he wasn't a "warm personality" anymore. He had a harsh side to him, which could come out sometimes. But he participated in many things and was on the "lame" side of cool. He hung out with some of the popular kids, but they just thought he was cool because he had a job and could be funny. Most of his interactions were very surface level, though. He didn't talk about himself too much, and just followed with whatever they did. He didn't like it though. The scene was different. However, it didn't matter. Distractions were a key. If he was too busy, he couldn't think. And that was a good thing.

As for Richie, distractions were important too: just different types. When the accident happened, Richie couldn't describe what he was feeling. The closest words were regret, disgust, and frustration with himself. He couldn't believe he'd just... left Eddie. Sitting there alone. He couldn't show his face to him again, he just knew it. He'd let his anger get the best of him. Every night, he'd just have to sit with that guilt. The realization that Eddie could be in jail, dead, or who knows? That stuck with him for a while. On top of that, he struggled with his sexuality. He was okay soon with liking guys, but he didn't want people to know that part of him. He didn't want to have another dangerous situation. He was an absolute wreck. He'd developed insomnia and PTSD from the accident. Every time he'd close his eyes at night, he'd see the body. The knife in his hands. Eddie crying. When he was at school and trying to focus, his intrusive thoughts took over. All he heard was Eddie screaming, the splashes of cleaning off his bloody hands in the water of the lake, and Eddie saying, "You asshole." That night was consuming him, inside and out. So what did Richie do? He dropped out of school.

He lived at home with his mother, who frankly, was hardly around. She had to work several jobs just to keep money coming in every two weeks. Richie spent his days online, sitting in existentialism. He was depressed, but he wouldn't admit it. He hardly got out of bed and he didn't eat for days at a time. He hated himself.

One day when scrolling through Instagram, he saw someone's name in his recommended section. @e.kasp. He clicked on the page, praying to god that it wasn't a private account. God must have heard - it wasn't. He looked through it and saw a post with the caption: [ Portland High football game tonight with (someone tagged) ] Portland, Oregon, or Portland, Maine? Ugh. Fuck all these cities with the same name. Richie didn't know what he was doing - it was likely that he was in a manic state. One night, when his mom was at one of her many jobs, he packed a bag and left. He took everything with him (not that he had much to begin with). All he knew was that it was cold, and Eddie was in Maine with his jacket still.

Richie was sixteen when he finally settled into Portland. It was a strange transition. He liked the city, but it didn't feel like how Derry felt. In good ways and bad ways. He realized something: no matter where he moved, he was still going to remember it. Still going to feel it. That was when he started using.

At first, he just smoked pot/THC, nothing more. He loved it; he loved how euphoric it made him feel, and how it made him forget. Each time, he upped the MGs. Each time he felt just a little better, a little more stable. Eventually, it wasn't enough for him. He started using other things, cocaine, methamphetamine, even heroin. It wasn't glamorous. He regularly had threats to get kicked out of his house from using all of his rent money to buy. It felt okay during it, but he felt awful after. He was scared each time, to accidentally overdose. Sometimes, he wasn't. A part of him wanted to. He felt guilty and awful, but he didn't stop. He didn't like who he'd become, and eventually, he forgot why he even moved to Portland. Until he saw Eddie at the crosswalk on that early spring day. It all came back to him. Everything.

author's note: sorry for how depressing this is. it'll get happier... maybe lmao.