Chapter Text
Richie Tozier was a Theater Kid. That was a fact.
Richie knew a lot of things. He knew he was gay. He knew that Mike Hanlon and Bill Denbourgh had a thing for each other, and he knew that Bev Marah and Ben Hanscom did too. And Stan Uris and Patty Blum had been crushing on each other for years.
He had come to terms with the fact that he was gay a long time ago. Richie was a freshman, and eighth grade had brought a wave of new feelings crashing down.
But there were also lots of things Richie didn’t know. For one, he didn’t know how to talk to Eddie Kaspbrak, he didn’t know when Mike Hanlon’s birthday was, and he didn’t know how he would manage to swipe the lead role in his high school production of Newsies. He couldn’t really blame Greta for saying he wasn’t lead role material. Richie didn’t look like a Jack Kelly, and sometimes looks can make or break a role.
All Theater Kids hate each other just a little. Fact.
Greta certainly hated him. A lot. But then again, who didn’t? The Richie Tozier Hate Club was quite large, if Richie said so himself. Greta, Patrick Hotsetter, Henry Bowers, Victor Criss, Belch Higgins…the list goes on.
“Richie!” Greta sweetly smiled (it was fake) at him and waved. She was a senior, and she was going for Katherine. That would be awkward if we both got the leading roles. Richie would much rather have to kiss Bev, even if she was a junior. “Who are you going for again? Cruchie? Race? You’d be amazing comedic relief.”
“Actually Greta, I’m going for Jack,” he said, attempting his best “little shit” face. He was quite good at that.
She gasped in mock horror, because apparently she had expected him to make good on her threats. “But-but, our age difference. You’re like 12! I’m 18.”
“I’m 14, dickwad, and that’s theater. And I’d much rather kiss Beverly Marsh than you,” he retorted.
“Oh, but I thought Beverly was going for Crutchie? You know, with a genderbent cast, people like her take what they can get.”
Bev was like his second older sister. Maxine Tozier was good, but she didn’t quite get him the way Bev did. And Bill. And Stan. And Mike. And Ben.
When he was little, he was bullied. He was called slurs and beat up. And as always, the culprit was Henry Bowers and his gang.
ENTER STANLEY URIS
When Richie befriended Stan at age 5, he knew he was making the right choice. Stan likes to do things in threes. Everything. His parents Maggie and Wentworth had later taught him it was called OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Richie would later go on to learn that he had ADHD, which, as Patrick would say, wasn't surprising.
When Richie was 6, he met someone else.
ENTER BILL DENBOURGH.
Bill Denbourgh, a sweet and polite boy who happened to be burdened with a stutter. It had gotten better over the years, Bill had even said Richie and his acting techniques were a large reason why.
Bill was also bullied, and when it wasn’t his stutter, it was his thin, lean figure which, apparently, wasn't “buff enough” to keep the boys at school satisfied.
School kids, especially in elementary school, are cruel. Fact.
Richie was bullied for countless reasons. He was built like a twig, for one. His town was stuck in the 1980s, and being a gay kid in the 80s wasn't exactly fun. Also, he was the resident trashmouth.
Richie Trashmouth Wentworth Tozier. Richie’s his name, voices are his game. In fact, he had an amazing Millie Bobby Brown impression, which was hilarious since he was a knockoff Finn Wolfhard/Mike Wheeler/Boris Pavlikovsky/Anything From The Finn Wolfhard Cinematic Universe.
He had countless nicknames, including Trashmouth, Itchy Richie, and of course, Finn Wolfhard.
And of course, that was another excuse to bully him. It was relentless until seventh grade, shit in backpacks, blows to the stomach, and too many concussions.
ENTER BEVERLY MARSH
Beverly Marsh was amazing. She was a stunning, gorgeous woman. His mother constantly commented on Bev’s looks. Bev was an actor. Almost as good as Richie, which meant she was really good.
When Bev sauntered into the theater, all attention was drawn to her. Everyone turned to look at her in awe. Bev had a wave of confidence Richie had never seen before. She believed she could get any role, no matter how difficult. That type of ambition was what made her a great actor.
“Trashmouth!” Beverly shouted at him. “Get out of your head! I see you staring at Eddie. You can’t hide anything from me, ‘Chee.”
“Shut up, Bev. I’m nowhere NEAR Eds and I don’t even like him that much. He’s so annoying. He’s always saying 'oh I don’t want to get my hands dirty!’ and that shit. Like you’re in fucking stage crew Spaghetti! Act like it!” Richie goes off on a little rant.
The truth was, when Richie talked about Eddie, something in him sped up. He didn’t know what it was, or why, but Google had said that was what it felt like when you had a crush.
Richie Tozier did not have a crush. He did not get crushes.
“Hmm,” Bev hummed. When she had a hunch, she was usually right. Sadly, Beverly was incredibly aware of this fact, and used her superpowers for evil.
But Richie did not have a crush on Eddie. Richie did not even like Eddie. Eddie was an asshole who was way too fucking weird about germs.
Also, he was stage crew. Now, Richie had nothing against stage crew, he just didn’t like the shitty people who always happened to be on stage crew. Again, Richie liked stage crew, he just didn’t like Eddie Kaspbrak.
“Richie Tozier?” The director looked over to Richie, and when Richie caught his gaze, he almost pooped himself. (Yes, almost pooped himself. That had happened in fourth grade during Aladdin). “Why don’t you come up to the stage and audition first?”
No Theater Kid wants to go first in auditions. Fact.
Bev shoot him a nervous look. They were thinking the same thing. His heart pounded in his chest, like a train beating on the tracks, running at full speed. He was tied up over the track and was about to be ran over.
“Break a leg,” Bev muttered as she walked up to the stage, where there were no stairs, so he had to hoist himself up.
Little did Richie know, someone would indeed be breaking a leg.