Chapter Text
There were moments when C.J. paused for a second and asked herself what exactly she was doing. She then questioned all her decisions that had led her to this moment and whether they were the right decisions. It would not be unlikely that she had made the wrong decisions - especially when she looked around her: she was standing in the basement of Tiffany Wright, who was filling another plastic cup with beer and swaying dangerously.
Tiffany had been C.J.'s best friend in middle school, and somehow that friendship had survived high school, even as Tiffany was becoming one of the most popular girls at Hawkins High. And part of the image of being popular now was occasionally drinking with your friends in your parents' basement without them knowing.
But it wasn't just Tiffany and C.J. in the basement, but also Cheryl Alan, Logan Britt and Grant Mills. The boys, of course, we're on the Hawkins High basketball team, while the girls were on the cheerleading squad - except for C.J. because she's not a big fan of short skirts and tops. But instead, her mum put her in the debate club, which may not be as exciting as cheerleading, but at least she had already won a debate or two.
Logan and Grant were currently challenging each other to see who could throw the most empty drinking cups into the bin at the other end of the basement while Cheryl cheered them on. CJ had to grin. Not just because the boys looked extremely stupid doing it - as they did most of the time, actually - but because Cheryl's crush on Logan only became more obvious the drunker she got. It was a wonder he hadn't picked up on it yet, or maybe Logan was just blind.
"Next time we'll go to my place," Grant said after Logan sank a hit. "Our basement is bigger, so we can invite more people, for a better mood."
"But the mood is fine," Tiffany objected, slightly red in the face. Whether it was from the alcohol or because Grant had indirectly called their party boring wasn't entirely clear.
"Tiffany, I love you and all," CJ interjected. "But you have to admit to yourself that it's totally boring."
"Autumn break will be better," Tiffany promised, now very red in the face. "That's when I'm going to invite the whole school. Because my parents are going to my aunt's, I think."
"That's not going to do us any good now," Logan pushed himself up from the couch and stretched. "What else is there to do?"
"I had a flyer for a band in the mail today," Tiffany rummaged around on the table behind her, which was clearly littered with cups and bottles. "They're giving a concert somewhere for free today, their very first one in fact ..."
"You mean this one?", CJ had found the flyer on the floor. Corroded Coffin was written in big letters across it. Below it was the name of a bar and a time still given.
"Right!", Tiffany snatched the sheet from her hands and held it up to Logan. " Corroded Coffin ," she said with conviction. "They even go to our school, I think."
"Let's go then!" exclaimed Cheryl. She was swaying as much as Tiffany.
"I don't know if that would be such a good idea ...", CJ said cautiously. "After all, you're all not so sure on your feet anymore ..." but none of the others cared about her thoughts, instead they got dressed and got ready to go. C.J. didn't really have much choice but to come along.
C.J. was sure she was different from Tiffany and Cheryl. Of course, she was different, every personality, therefore every person is individual, which is why it is impossible to be exactly like another person. But still, C.J. is so different from both of them that it almost can't be possible.
Tiffany and Cheryl are cheerful and outgoing. No matter who they meet, everyone likes them immediately. Dozens of boys have crushes on them and they are even popular with the teachers. They have good grades and are polite. They even look perfect, with their waist-length hair and slim bodies, that C.J. keeps asking herself why she can't be like that herself.
No, wait - she is like that. Maybe she didn't have as long hair or wasn't as curvy, but overall, C.J. was like Cheryl and Tiffany. And that's what she didn't like.
It was a weird thought that she almost didn't dare think. It was like there was something wrong inside her - like there was something there that was doing its mischief and making her feel uncomfortable in her own body. It's like when you stare at a word until it doesn't look like a word anymore like there's something wrong with it. That's exactly how C.J. feels in her body.
But in contrast, when she looked at Logan and Grant, a strange feeling of envy ran through her that she couldn't explain. She was sure it was because of their t-shirts, which didn't hug their bodies as tightly as her own did. Besides, their shirts also had much better designs than the girls'.
Exactly. That's where the envy came from. Boys simply had better fashion choices. That must be the reason and nothing else.
Or-?
"Is this the bar?", Grant brought CJ back to the present. They were standing in front of a dilapidated building, which didn't look very confidence-inspiring. "Could imagine we're about to get robbed ...", C.J. muttered, looking around; there was not an airhead to be seen.
"Let's go inside," Cheryl suggested, opening the door.
"If we get killed, I'll blame you," Logan grumbled, offering Tiffany his arm before they entered.
A stale, beer-smelling air hit them. The bar was small and not exactly crowded, with maybe five other people who didn't look like they remembered their names. The bartender looked at the five with a raised eyebrow; he probably wasn't used to seeing his bar so crowded.
"Excuse me," CJ pushed his way forward. "But has Corroded Coffin played yet?"
The bartender looked at her as if C.J. had lost her mind. Then he started laughing out loud. "Eddie!" he yelled to the back. "People have actually come to see your band!"
Excited whispering began in the back room and it sounded like dozens of things were being dragged back and forth.
"Sit down somewhere," the bartender said, pointing to the tables. "If you want something to drink, you'll have to order. But no alcohol," he looked sternly at Cheryl and Tiffany. "Even though I think you've had enough of that already."
He wasn't wrong about that; Cheryl and Tiffany had already settled down on two chairs and were giggling incessantly. CJ sighed. It wasn't going to be easy to get them both home again.
Logan and Grant, however, had decided they weren't drunk enough yet and tried to persuade one of the drunken men to get them a drink.
C.J., however, was no longer in the mood for alcohol and simply sat down. Unlike the others, she was actually excited to see the band, especially if they were going to be people from Hawkins High. She wondered if she knew them and why she hadn't heard of them.
The back door opened and three boys who had to be about her age stepped out and made their way to the front. Two of them carried guitars while the third headed for the drums, which were already on the impromptu stage.
"Isn't that that Munson freak?" asked Logan a little too loudly, making Cheryl and Tiffany laugh even harder.
"That's why there's no ditz here!" added Grant. The boys started laughing out loud.
CJ was embarrassed for her friends. It might be that Eddie Munson had a questionable reputation at school, but that was no reason to humiliate him and his friends like that.
"So," Eddie cleared his throat. He and his friends looked nervous. "we're about to play our first song, yeah ..."
C.J. had seen Eddie in the cafeteria many times before and knows that he is actually a confident person, but he still seemed very insecure to her right now. She tried to smile encouragingly and began to clap in anticipation, but apart from the bartender, no one else joined in - apart from one drunken man who didn't really seem to get what it was all about.
Even though Cheryl and the others hadn't calmed down yet, Eddie and his friends started their song; C.J. noticed that as soon as the boys started playing their instruments, their nervousness disappeared and they came on passionately.
Their song had no lyrics, probably because they didn't have a singer, but that didn't mean they didn't sound good. C.J. wasn't sure what direction it went in, metal or punk maybe, but she surprisingly liked it.
She leaned back and tapped her fingertips on her knee to the beat. C.J. had no idea what the others were doing, probably making fun or already asleep, but she didn't care either.
Until the song was interrupted by a sickening sound: Cheryl had thrown up and was flooding the floor of the bar with her vomit.
"Holy shit!" exclaimed Logan, jumping away from her as Grant and Tiffany did the same. C.J., on the other hand, walked over to Cheryl, holding her hair out of her face and looking for a bucket or something similar so she wouldn't mess up the floor anymore, after all.
"I'm really sorry," she apologised to the bartender for the hundredth time. "I'll clean it up, you don't have to do it yourself."
But the bartender shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, kid, but you better get your friends home safely. That wasn't the first time, and certainly not the last, that someone had thrown up all over my floor," he gently pushed her towards the door and then closed it.