Lost In The Post

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'Eddie, I should pay you rent while I stay here,' Richie insisted, toying with a metal bracket as he pretended to help Eddie with assembling his new furniture.

'I won't illegally sublet,' Eddie said dryly, working tirelessly with an Allan key. 'I offered to temporarily put you on the lease.'

'I know you did,' Richie flattened his lips, hearing the same bitterness in Eddie's voice which had been there since Richie refused Eddie's offhand offer.

He'd so badly wanted to put his name down beside Eddie's, had been so overjoyed and flattered that Eddie had even asked Richie to co-sign the papers with him, and it would have meant that Richie would officially, legally, be flatmates with Eddie Kaspbrak. Yet, as Richie had held the pen, he'd thought about Maggie.

Myra hadn't taken news of the divorce well, to say the least. While Eddie's shrewd prenuptial agreement ironed out monetary and property matters neatly and unwaveringly, there could be no child support or custody arrangements made in the event of divorce. Myra was furious enough that Richie feared she might try and take the only thing from Eddie that she theoretically could: his daughter.

It might not look good to a court if Eddie had suspiciously disappeared for two weeks, returned with a man whom his wife and child had never met, proposed divorce from said wife, and then immediately moved in with the stranger whom he expected his daughter to cohabit with, especially when that stranger was just a friend and, much to Richie's biting chagrin, not a romantic partner.

Not only that, but Richie's reputation would unfortunately precede him. A quick browser search would pull up pictures and articles stacked with substantiated facts and unsubstantiated rumours of which Richie wasn't entirely proud. It didn't present appropriate roommate material, let alone boyfriend material, and definitely not parenting material.

Granted, he'd not touched a drug, been out partying or slept with anyone since before his departure for Derry, and he'd not had a drink since the night at Jade of the Orient, but that didn't stop the tabloids from continuing to churn out their malicious suspicions regarding Richie's current whereabouts; his emotional, mental and physical states; or his reasons for both ruining his last show and suddenly cancelling the remainder of his tour.

'You know why I said I can't,' Richie sighed.

'Yeah, yeah,' Eddie dismissed, rifling in his toolbox. 'Stupid contractual agreement with your place in LA. Legal domicile bullshit.'

Richie hadn't told Eddie the truth for three key reasons. First and foremost, he didn't want to worry him. Eddie had explained the situation to his daughter but he panicked frequently about how she was absorbing the news. Richie had no intentions of mentioning that Myra might engage in a custody battle before absolutely necessary.

Secondly, he didn't want to force himself or Eddie to over-analyse and discuss their current relationship, the indefinite longevity of his stay in New York City, or the implications of a potentially permanent moving away from Los Angeles. He wanted to provide the support and friendship that he knew he could, not burden Eddie with complicated questions, insinuations and ulterior motives, however pure.

Finally, crucially, Richie really didn't want to have Eddie agree with him and his fears. He couldn't bear to watch Eddie realise that Richie was right, that he was a poor excuse for a role model, that he was an embarrassment and, ironically, a joke. He didn't want to see Eddie's inevitable disappointment once the nostalgia had worn away and he saw Richie Tozier for who he had become, not the boy that he used to be. He didn't want to lose him before he had to. Whenever Richie thought too hard about that last reason, he felt guilty.

'At least let me do something,' Richie tried, spinning a wrench around his finger. 'I'll pay the utilities.'

Tightening the last screw, Eddie said, 'Utilities are included in the rent.'

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