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Without a doubt, Eddie Munson was the most frustrating human in your goddamn life. This man wasn’t even your friend - but you had the distinct displeasure of dealing with him nearly every day and you were at the end of your rope.
The drama club had been working endless nights and weekends, squeezing in rehearsals after school and in free period and every second lunch hour and Eddie Munson’s silly little board game club was this close to ruining it all.
First, there had been the third world war between you and the Hellfire Club king himself, mediated by Mr. Poole. Over which group got Friday nights in the drama room. Eventually, a truce and fair schedule had been drawn for each extra curricular.
Another day, you had come into the drama room early Monday morning - relieved after the success of the Holiday Festival. And your beautiful snowman sculpture had been decapitated, with an apologetic note scrawled on his discarded head about how they were going to fix it ASAP. The volcanic eruption Eddie Munson faced from you was worthy of its own adventure novel.
(He apologized profusely, explaining about the ‘heat of the moment’ and ‘an epic final battle to defeat’ some blah blah blah monster. You did not care.)
And now! You had walked into the room over lunch, lugging your sewing kit to finish off some hemming on the Queen of Heart’s dress, only to find a discarded bottle of rootbeer tipped over, soiling a pile of white tunics required for the card costumes.
Ditching your supplies and brown bag lunch, you grabbed the bottle and the top most garment and rushed to the cafeteria.
You knew that being president of the drama club wasn’t the height of popularity when it came to high school. The only thing saving the theater kids from being complete losers was the fact that being involved gave participants some approved time away from the class when the productions were live and sometimes it crossed over as part of an art credit, too. But you knew the stereotypes when you joined. Frankly, you didn’t care much about your reputation when it came to school.
You were just waiting to graduate and move to New York.
But that didn’t mean your last semester and last ever production in the Hawkins High School auditorium didn’t mean anything to you. In fact, that made it mean so much more. You were directing the show, with support from both Mr. Poole and the art teacher Ms. Baxter, and acting as the Red Queen, on top of designing posters and helping with sets and costumes. You and the rest of the club had poured your lives into this final show and you were dedicated to making sure it all went off without a hitch.
If there was one other thing you were certain of, you knew that being in the drama club was almost equally as embarrassing as being a member of The Hellfire Club. After basketball, football and cheerleading, most school teams fell further down the ladder. But being near the bottom? It wasn’t always easy. With both the drama club and The Hellfire Club sharing a similar social status, it should have meant some sort of understanding and respect, but Eddie Munson was ignorant to that, apparently.
With the sleeves of your oversized red blazer shoved over your elbows and your scuffed black converse slapping the tile floor, you headed into the cafeteria and set your targets on the table near the far windows - the one where Eddie was holding court with his round table of idiots.
“But our next mission, my friends, will take our journey even further. If you think we’re in the clear from the -”
“Munson!” You planted your feet beside his chair at the end of the table, reaching out to grab his shoulder and draw his attention. Although, given how the chatter at the table had already come to a halt, you had a feeling your piercing cry was enough of a distraction. “What the hell?”
“Well, hello to you too, Madam President.” The coy smirk on Eddie’s face vanished when he caught your scowl. “How are you already wound up about something? It’s barely noon and-”
“We spent hours on these costumes last week and your merry band of dorks managed to ruin them in one fell swoop.” You shoved the bottle of rootbeer at his chest and dropped the stained white tunic onto the table, covering his plastic tray. “The stupid Shared Room Agreement you made me sign specifically says no food or drink is to come anywhere near our stuff!”
Eddie narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, glancing from you to the soda bottle then to the costume. He sucked in a breath. “Gareth! Come on, dude. I made it very clear that all snack remnants are to disappear to save from this.” He jerked his thumb towards you, ignoring your huff and extending the bottle towards his team mate. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Uh,” Gareth’s face scrunched up, holding back his laughter while the rest of the table tried to keep their faces straight too. “My bad?”
“Your bad?” You sucked in a hard breath and pivoted to look at Gareth.
Gareth, who you’ve technically known since elementary school and had probably still had a habit of burping the alphabet. Who sat two desk rows behind you in ninth grade science and nearly got kicked out of class for puppeteering his frog that was meant to be dissected. Gareth. His head was on the chopping block after Munson.
With a sharp inhale, you steadied yourself again and looked back to Eddie once more. “That’s it. I’m going to Mr. Poole. Your club is finding a new home.”
You were stomping away just as quickly as you had arrived, ignoring the shouts coming from Eddie as he trailed behind you.
Just as you were raising your hand up to knock on Mr. Poole’s door, feeling a tiny bit guilty about interrupting his lunch (the man avoided the faculty lounge in the lunch hour, enjoying his sandwich alone with a book), Eddie’s hand had grabbed onto your wrist.
“Wait, wait.”
You let out a quiet sigh as he released your arm. “Don’t test me, Munson.” You tilted your head to catch his stare. God, you were a good actress. Because damnit if Eddie Munson didn’t have the most beautiful, apologetic doe eyes.
Hold your ground, dummy.
“Listen, the drama room has become our playground for fantasy. Can’t we come to an agreement here?” Eddie pressed his shoulders back and pouted. “Please. Gareth already lost us our privileges in the music room and -”
“Let me guess, he left a bag of Bugles inside someone’s bugle.”
Eddie smirked. “No, it was a noise complaint.”
“Shocking.” You controlled your bite and slid your tongue across your lips, head shaking side to side. “I’m tired of all this, okay? That room is our sanctuary and your round table of jesters has ruined our peace for the final time.”
“Listen, staining your little costumes isn’t the end of the world. You just need some bleach, I have a lot of methods for getting..” He paused to find his words. “..substances out of things.”
“Gross.”
“Like red wine and blood, sweetheart. Don’t be so dramatic.”
You hissed out his name, face scrunched up in frustration. “Listen, I was okay with the candles - although that is definitely a fire hazard. And I even let you have our old throne from the retired set pieces to do what you wanted with. But when your little board game-”
“D&D is not a board game. You wound me.”
“Whatever, Munson! Your reckless friend Gareth has ruined it for you!”
Apparently your own volume was worthy of a noise complaint now. Because before you could step back, the door at your side was opening and there stood Mr. Poole, brushing crumbs off his thighs as he looked between you and Eddie.
Your teacher let out his own dramatic sigh. “What happened now, Mr. Munson?”
You shot a glance towards Eddie once more, as you took a deep breath before explaining the entire situation. And that’s when you caught it - a look you had never seen from your nemesis Eddie Munson before.
His eyes were pleading without explanation - a silent request that you might choose not to throw him directly into the fire. That you might just hear him out once more, that the drama room could continue to serve you both. And despite all the rage in the pit of your stomach, the weight of the world you had put on your own shoulders, the level you held yourself and the amatuer production up to… despite all of that, the desperation in Eddie Munson’s eyes caused something to shift in you.
Instead of stoking the flames, it seemed to suffocate them to embers.
When Mr. Poole spoke your name - repeated it, in fact, you turned your attention to him. “Oh, uhm. Nothing happened, sir. Sorry to interrupt your ham on rye.. I just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s club has graciously decided to help backstage the night of the performance, so there is no reason to harass your sophomore English class for me. Now I have all the willing volunteers I need.” Slowly, you turned your head towards Eddie. “Isn’t that right, Eddie?”
You watched as Eddie’s jaw carefully clenched. Behind his rapidly blinking eyes - which, God, had those always been hidden behind such long eyelashes? - he was clearly making a decision. Then he stood taller, somehow, and flared out his fingers before neatly tugging on his vest. “Yes, right. That is.. Right. You are looking at the leader of the stage crew.”
Eddie hated to admit it but your tenacity was admirable. Annoying and cunning, sure, but damnit if he didn’t respect how dedicated you were to your craft.
Honestly, a lot of your traits were just as excellent - like how you could command a room, how your smile could drop from charming to devilish in the blink of an eye. Not that… not that Eddie paid a particular amount of attention to your smile and how the muscles on your face behaved.
No, no. Your smile was nothing but a distraction, a tool used to hypnotize educational supervisors while you conned an innocent man in the hallway. Because Eddie was not the person you seemed to think he was - menacing, conniving, heartless, and messy. No, he was just passionate.
Passionate about his friends and his club and his music. And the journey The Hellfire Club had been going on this year had been Tolkien level of adventure. The beasts were bigger, the missions heavier, the reaped rewards even greater. And he couldn’t let anything jeaporize the ending that was approaching, which means they could not lose their home. The drama room was his safe haven too and if he had to lug around oversized chess pieces for your silly little production for one night to appease the Drama Queen herself, to ensure they didn’t lose their playing space, whatever. He could give up one night.
What he didn’t expect was the annoying chorus of whines coming from his club members.
“Can you explain to us again why we have to spend our night here if Gareth was the rootbeer bandit?” Mike Wheeler, ever the tall and wise, lamented as he pushed a spotlight across the floor. “Shouldn’t he be doing his own community service?”
Dustin Henderson, ever the little shithead (and truthfully Eddie’s favourite, though he’d never admit it out loud), chimed in as he unraveled an extension cord. “Oh. Isn’t it obvious? Eddie loves whatshername.”
“Boys, we are mere mortals in the daylight.” Eddie walked towards them, lending yet another hand to push the heavy lighting fixture into place. “And sometimes, we need to pay our dues. Besides, Gareth’s doing his own repentance.”
Dustin’s commentary had been loud enough that Eddie certainly heard it before he approached to assist them. But it felt easier to pretend he hadn’t. First, because arguing with Henderson could be both grating and gratifying, but he couldn’t always find the right words. And second, that annoying little freshman wasn’t really wrong.
Love was a complicated word, of course. Eddie threw it around without caution usually. Because damnit, he loved his guitar. And he loved the way playing it made him feel, how it helped him escape. He loved fresh strawberry jelly, like his mum used to make in their tiny little kitchen. He knew what love was.
But did he love you? Doubtful.
Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t new to your orbit. You had been fighting over the drama room exclusively since your reign as president had started two years ago. But before that, you still existed in his life. Maybe you didn’t remember him and his recollection of you was foggy at best, but you had grown up on the same street. A long time ago, in the before times of Eddie’s life. Before his mom died, before he moved in with his uncle, before his lunchbox was filled with an assortment of illegal substances for sale, before life sort of cracked beneath his feet.
It was your brother, actually, who Eddie had known best. They had played knights together in the treeline every day after getting off the bus and sometimes you’d trail along, watching carefully or joining in to act as their damsel in distress. You’d ask questions about the story and your brother used to quickly dismiss you, that it wasn’t a story. It was just playing, it was just fighting, it was just dreaming.
Clearly that didn’t stop you from your own dreaming. Cause look at you now. Making an entire Wonderland come to life in your time between classes. Even when most people didn’t care about the drama club or their performances, you carried on. You weathered the storm of rolled eyes and name calling. You persevered, like you had something to prove.
Eddie switched school districts when he moved to the trailer park and although your paths were crossing again at Hawkins High, the leftover memories of your shared past didn’t matter much. But that didn’t stop him from looking forward to arguing with the girl who liked to daydream and play make believe, who liked to command the room and make her ideas come to life.
Yeah, it definitely couldn’t be love. But Eddie Munson certainly let you live in his mind more often than he liked to admit.
“That was quite the speech, Madam President.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned in the kitchen, finding a grinning Eddie leaning against the countertop, a fresh plastic cup of beer in his hand. It was the right thing to do - inviting your reluctant laborers to the cast party. Because it was for the crew too and they had worked hard.
The parties weren’t always this raucous, but seeing as there were half a dozen other seniors in the club who were mourning their final school performance, it seemed appropriate to escalate the entire event. What you hadn’t anticipated was Kelly Campbell, the wicked talented sophomore who had stolen the show as Alice, volunteering her house as the location. Once word got out from her cheerleader sister Monica about the event, the invitations had gotten a bit out of control.
But whatever, you couldn’t let yourself care about it. The living room had overflowed with people hanging on your every word as you celebrated the play, standing on the coffee table and delivering your greatest farewell, sending out personal thank you notes to everyone for tolerating how insane and passionate you had been all year.
You relished because you knew it would all be over soon. But that’s what you had been waiting for, right? To let this chapter close so you could start again, somewhere else? Somewhere new? Somewhere far away from small town politics and annoying classmates and irritable, long haired, doe-eyed dungeon masters?
“I mean it.” Eddie continued as you scanned his face, searching for a crack in his honesty. “I’m glad I got to see the show.”
“Got to see the show… had to move sets for the show…” You smirked and tipped your own cup up towards your mouth. “Same thing, I guess.” Your gratitude for The Hellfire Club certainly outweighed your annoyance now. The little sheep had been especially helpful with the lights and Gareth even got a laugh when you made him play one of the pawns in the garden scene. You’d be hard pressed to say it out loud, but the show might not have gone on without the enemy and his team coming to your aid.
And you had successfully bleached the soiled costumes, too.
With a deep breath, you took a small step towards him and extended your hand to knock your cups together. “I’m not sure I expressed my gratitude to you yet, Eddie. All walls down, white flag raised - this is serious. Thank you.”
“Wow.” His smirk grew and his eyebrows shot up, hiding behind his shaggy brown bangs. “How difficult was that for you to say out loud? Have you been practicing all day?”
“All week, even.” Oh god, your wall had entirely dismantled itself apparently. Because when you met Eddie’s gaze again, you could have sworn your heart flip flopped a handful of times. With another deep breath and second of courage, you kept going. Because, hey, this was all going to be over soon right? Your new life awaits. So why not just… “Hey - did you bring your lunch box of tricks with you tonight?”
You watched as he studied you, as you did him. His posture tightened for a brief second, as something flashed across his face. He nodded once. “My inventory overflows with items, my drama queen.”
My drama queen.
You finished off your beer and motioned your head to the staircase.
Eddie would have wound up at this party anyway. He made the rounds every Friday night, popping into these little get-togethers and making all the transactions and trades he needed to call it a successful evening. But a personal invitation to one of these parties wasn’t usually something that happened.
Somehow he couldn’t resist this time. Especially when you bounded off stage after the final curtain call and almost ran him over before getting out of your costume.
‘Not sure what the curfew is for the kids but it’s a cast and crew party. Hope to see you there, Munson.’
What was it about your attitude that made him both incredibly annoyed and attracted to you at the same time?
He couldn’t let himself think too hard about that, because he needed to stay present. Right here in the present, where he was following you up the stairs. Right behind your - no, no. He stopped himself. Was it appropriate to objectify someone of such high political ranking? Even if your acid wash jeans hugged your waist perfectly. Even if he was dying to see you wearing just that deep purple corset, instead of hiding it behind that boxy blazer. Even if he wanted to kiss that leftover stage lipstick right off your -
“This way!”
Get it together, Munson. With a straight head, he turned down the hall the same way you did. And when you pushed into a bedroom door, loudly announcing your entrance - he couldn’t stop himself from applauding the way you strode right past the couple making out to climb through the far window instead.
And when you extended your hand back towards him, to help him climb through too, Jesus - Eddie felt like he had crossed over to a brand new reality.
“Should we check on that dude? Seems like she might be stealing all the air from his lungs..” Eddie’s mouth provided commentary without even thinking, slowing down his pace as you led him towards a small part where the roof met a parallel peak. At the right angle, you could both sit - side by side, without risk of falling or really being discovered.
It was strangely intimate. Surely you could have just gone to the basement with the rest of the stoners or hidden out in the backyard. But here you both were, high above the ground, just a tiny bit closer to the universe above.
“Maya works as a lifeguard in the summer. She’s good at mouth to mouth, I know from experience,” you replied to Eddie with a smirk, carefully extending your legs out as you sat and scooching to invite him to join you. “He’ll be okay.”
Eddie fiddled with the pockets of his vest once he was situated, then slowly his head turned. There was that smirk again. “You’ve kissed her?” His thumb pointed back in the direction they had journeyed, blinking a lot more than necessary as he brain tried to compute.
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it,” you teased, nudging your elbow gently into his side. “The whole drama club sort of..” You trailed off, as if these weren’t your secrets to share. “We can be a very cuddly group.”
Eddie could see the mischievous shine in your eye. He let out a breath as his jaw moved side to side. Did his heart rate just pick up? Focus, focus.
“So, what’ll it be?” Eddie retrieved a small plastic bag from his pocket, laying it out flat in his hand. “I think I have a few fancy pills out in the van, too, if you want to-”
“Oh no, just pot. Something classic, slow and smooth.” You were quick to reply, drawing a very real cautious boundary that you hoped he recognized. “Safe.”
He opted for the most traditional strain in his pre-rolled set up, with an understanding nod and a wave of his hand to dismiss any of his other suggestions. “You got it.”
The entire set up was a bit awkward, clumsy even. Once his zippo finally stopped acting up and the joint was at his lips, trading it back and forth with you became an easy pattern. You leaned back eventually, declining any additional inhales and stared up towards the sky. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what happened now so he just, well, did the same as you. His back hit the shingled roof and his eyes travelled upward.
He closed his eyes. “So, you happy?”
“I dunno if my brain is strong enough for a question so heavy,” you mumbled back.
“I meant with the play, how it all turned out. When our band performs, I always look back at our shows and nitpick so I just wonder if you do the same about your ..whole thing.”
“Oh. Well, that makes more sense now, doesn’t it?” Did you just giggle? Good lord. This was his regular stuff?. “Yeah, I think it was a nice way to finish off my final act at Hawkins High School.” It felt so real saying that out loud but you were staring your future in the face. Of course it was going to feel scary. “I’m happy with it, yeah. Sure.”
“Even though my.. what was the phrase you coined - my ‘round table of jesters’ - even though my jesters were involved?”
“Yes, you and the jesters made a big difference, even.”
“Really? Even though you can’t stand me?”
“When did I ever say that?”
“The words never left your mouth,” he choked out a laugh. “But oh, I can tell. Your energy is alarmingly potent with anger when I’m in your zone. You radiate irritation.”
You pushed yourself to sit up, turning to look at him. “I do not radiate irritation.”
“She says with a scowl on her face,” he smiled, raising his eyebrows up and down.
“How do you know I’m scowling? Your eyes are still closed,” you shoot back, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Radiate irritation. You make me sound nuclear or something.”
He laughed harder now. “You are nuclear, baby.”
You can’t help but laugh along with him now. You figured it was time to let it all go. “Sorry if I’ve been a nuclear bitch all semester, Eddie.” The tingles across your skin grew even stronger as the weed caught up to your mind. You tried to resist it but you laid back down again, head tipped to the side to look at him.
Eddie’s face has already turned to look at you, eyes wide, searching. “You’ve come so far from your damsel in distress days.”
“Oh my god!” Your eyes lit up at his commentary. “You do remember me from the old neighbourhood. I wasn’t sure - here I thought we were too grown up to talk about those old make believe days.”
“You’re the president of the drama club and I’m a dungeon master. We never left the make believe days, my lady.”
You couldn’t pinpoint where the affectionate terms of endearment had started but for some reason, you didn’t want to ask. You didn’t want it to stop. Because damnit, there you were, falling down into Eddie Munson’s eyes in the moonlight.
“And where did my brother in arms end up? I know he graduated on time, unlike myself.”
“My brother and his Camaro headed east. He’s up in Brooklyn now, very broke but living the dream, so he says.” You lifted your hands up above your face, stretching your fingertips up to connect the faded stars above. “He’s very excited for me to move in and cut his rent payments in half.”
“You’re going to New York?”
“As soon as I get that dumb piece of paper in my hand, I’m out of here.” You pointed a single finger up towards the sky. “Goodbye Hawkins, hello… to future.”
“Hello to future?” Eddie laughed again. “The drama queen, master of all linguistics.”
You laughed too, turning and burying your face into his shoulder. Wait. Had you two always been this close - side by side? Was it cold all of a sudden? “Sorry, sorry. Drama club.. We’re cuddly.”
“Right, right. Well, I lugged around all those stupid sets for you - am I part of the club now?” The register of his voice sounded lower, smoother,
Your hand dropped down and landed on his chest, that determined pointer finger finding a button hole to inspect. “Absolutely not. Well, not officially. You aren’t in the yearbook photo.” You peeked upwards to look at him. He was staring again. “Unofficially, yes. Jester of the drama club, as declared by the queen herself.”
“An honour, my queen.”
Your conversation carried on and off. You stayed tucked right into Eddie’s side as he asked you more questions about your plans for New York. He said the big city was on his list too, if he could make it out. A very real part of you knew he would make it out and you tried not to overthink about that. Maybe you were nothing but a tiny footnote in Eddie Munson’s big life but at that moment in time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
He mumbled against the shell of your ear. “Well, what do we do now?”
You were sprawled across his chest, the thump thump thumping of his heart keeping you awake. “Are you asking in a real life, what-about-the-future kind of way or a very non-serious, make believe sort of way?”
“I’m asking in whatever way inspires your best answer, sweetheart.”
“In a real life sort of way, what happens next is we crawl back inside and part ways with a handshake. But in the make believe side of this story, we stay right here and talk about our dreams and eventually I get the courage to slam my lips against yours...”
Well below you both, the party was still in full swing. You could be down there, making some final memories with your stage comrades and trading plans for the summer. Or, you could stay right where you were - tucked into Eddie Munson’s side, hot breath on your neck.
His hand trailed down your side, underneath the fabric of your blazer. You felt the cool metal of his rings against the sliver of skin above your waistline. You held your breath when he opened his mouth to reply. “I definitely prefer the make believe sort of way.”
You didn’t know what the final scene was going to look like between you and Eddie, but for now, under the promise of nothing and beneath the safety of the night sky, you stayed. Because without a doubt, Eddie Munson was the most surprising person in your life.