𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞 & 𝐫

 Everyone was there - it was like old times, almost.

The first person Eddie saw besides Beverly was Ben. He was standing right next to Beverly as they walked in. He looked the same mostly, besides the age thing - it looked like he'd lost a little weight, he still had the same fashion sense, which was unsurprisingly extremely basic in Eddie's eyes (but clothing critique probably couldn't be given from someone who wore fanny packs every day as a kid, despite him working with a major fashion industry currently), and his hair was still the same light brown as it had been before. Ben didn't say anything but he shot a quick smile. He and Beverly were standing really close, and as Eddie looked down, he saw that they were holding hands - okay, well, that's different.

The next person he saw was Bill - Bill had grown taller, of course, and he had definitely matured in terms of looks. He dressed mostly the same, but he looked more confident than before. This was reassuring to Eddie because he most certainly did not feel the same way. His eyes had sort of a sad look to them, which wasn't surprising due to the occasion, but they were softened in a sort of way that looked as if he was totally spaced out.

The final person Eddie saw was Mike. Mike still had the kindest eyes and seemed to still be keeping his cool. He was always the same, he always had been - that was another reassuring thing. Some people never change, they just grow, and that was a hard lesson to understand. Mike immediately smiled at Eddie, Eddie smiling back a bit.

Wait, no. This was so wrong. Why was he smiling? He shouldn't be smiling, he didn't feel like smiling. His childhood best friend had just fucking died. He didn't deserve to smile.

As Richie looked toward Eddie he saw his smile drop at an alarming pace. Right before he could ask the boy what was wrong, Beverly broke the silence with one of those basic questions you'd ask someone you haven't seen in a while.

"So, wow." She remarked, seeming to be taking in the moment. "How are you guys? What's life been like? It's... been a while." She said, taking a clear pause in between 'it's' and 'been a while'.

Richie noticed something - she was happy. She was just normal. It was like everything was the same - like they'd never left Derry like Stan wasn't dead... Everything was just fine to her. It was almost weird how... normal, everything was. Something was wrong.

As for her question, what was Richie even meant to say? Talk about his crippling addiction? His numerous run-ins with death, whether it was with himself or others that he loved? Talk about how he didn't know if Eddie even could tolerate him anymore? Talk about the accident?

"You know - life." Richie said, with an awkward smile out of the corner of his mouth and a shrug."Just... doing stuff. Living life." It was such a basic answer, but at least it didn't propose any other questions.

So he thought.

"Oh, for real? Like what? What's school like?" She said, with a look of infatuation on her face. Something was wrong. Everyone else remained silent.

"I, uh, dropped out." He said, clearing his throat. He felt sweat drip down his back. "Yeah, I dropped out. Life just got too busy." He said as an excuse, shrugging again. He put his hands back in his pockets to stabilize himself, so he wouldn't feel like he was floating away.

He wanted to be high so bad right now.

"Nice, so what do you do? Like for work?" She said innocently. Her tone was purely innocuous but Richie felt like she was trying to get under his skin. These questions were - no. They were normal. It was just his fault that he had no good answer for them. Shit, what did he do for work again?

"Uh, you know. I just do stuff for people. Like odd jobs, I guess." He said, biting his lip.

"Yeah, but like, what have you been doing all these years? What's keeping you busy?" She said.

"I've been..." Richie trailed off.

Literally, what had he been doing? He couldn't think of one thing. He'd spent his days wasting away, complaining, doing drugs, just barely surviving. What had he been doing?

Where had time gone?

"Uh..."

He felt sick. He wanted to go home, wherever home even was at this point.

The conversation naturally dragged on, and ten minutes later, everyone was in separate groups quietly talking amongst themselves. This left Richie and Eddie sitting down at a table together, looking like absolute idiots in the midst of a tight-knit group.

Eddie hadn't spoken a word since he said 'hi' on the steps to the house. He was watching and analyzing everyone as they spoke - how natural everything was. How similar yet unsettlingly different everything was. It was almost like they just didn't care. How didn't they care?

He saw everything - how Beverly led a lot of the conversations but would stop talking as they got into more specific topics, how Ben laughed the loudest out of everyone in the group and it made Bev smile ever so slightly, how Bill still had a stutter but it wasn't as prominent anymore and every time he stuttered he'd look to the ground, and even how Mike would trace the rim of his red Solo cup with his pointer finger over and over when he wasn't engaging in the conversations.

Even things like how Bill's eyes had a longing look when he looked to Bev. A look that made him look like a child yearning for a toy out a reach, a look that made Eddie's spine tingle.

It was a familiar look.

"Hey E-Eddie, you haven't said anything. This isn't a funeral or anything, what's up with y-you?" Bill said once he noticed Eddie looking at him.

Eddie looked up at Bill, almost in disbelief. Even as nonchalant as Richie was, Eddie still saw him give Bill a disoriented look. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Eddie said, feeling unrestrained. Something was boiling inside of him, and he didn't know what it was. He felt as if something struck him in the heart, and not in a way Cupid's arrow would.

There was a silence, and Bill flinched, despite Eddie not even yelling at him. His tone was sharp and cold, as it had been with this 'new Eddie'. The glacial tonality didn't match the atmosphere of the room - It was warm-toned and dim in the perfect way. It was almost like it was a party. Eddie felt manipulated and disgusted by it. Was this a cruel type of joke?

"I thought it was funny," Ben muttered.

"Of course you did, you've always had no sense of humour." Eddie spat back, causing a glare from Richie. "Eddie-" Richie began in a calm tone.

"No, don't 'Eddie' me. We aren't doing this. This is not-"

Eddie started breathing heavier. He felt the silence from the room weighing on him. It was overbearing and violent despite the lack of noise. Was the temperature going up, or was it just him?

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Our friend is dead. Our friend is dead now, and I don't know how it happened or what even- But no. There's no way I'm gonna let you joke over this. It's not funny, and I don't know what kind of cruel fucking joke this is, but I'm done with it. I need to know what happened, and Richie, don't fucking touch me, because this is not a fucking moment for you to get your dick hard and push your fantasies on me like you've been doing this whole goddamn week." Eddie shouted, making everyone in the room freeze.

Richie didn't know whether it wanted to die of embarrassment or just die in general, but either way he didn't want to be here. He couldn't believe this was really happening. God, this is embarrassing. He felt as if vines were clinging to his soul, constantly weighing him down and wrapping their dulled emerald arms around his spirit and leaving him to die. He couldn't scream, he couldn't be high - what could he do?

So he just sat there with his eyes wide, trying to not realize what just happened.

"Cut the bullshit, Bev. I'm telling him." Mike said, with a serious face.

"This isn't a good idea. It never was." Beverly remarked, putting down her red Solo cup. Her hands were shaking a bit, and Richie saw the liquid in the cup moving.

"Don't you think we told you that? But you always have to do it your way, huh?" Mike replied, clearly getting frustrated.

"Stanley's been dead for seven months."