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Summary
Richie stalled for a moment, lowering his phone away from his face and looking up at Stan across the room. His best friend was tossing clothes into his drawers, re-packing up his childhood bedroom after getting home from university.
“Hey so,” Richie cleared his throat awkwardly, hands starting to shake. “I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”
[or: Richie makes a joke. Eddie responds outside the realm of expectation and now not one person has any fucking idea what's going on at all.]
