I Remember You
The past four years of Eddie Kaspbrak's life have been an absolute hazy, messy, beautiful blur. The day he broke away from his overbearing mother was probably the happiest day of his mother fucking life. Yes, he loved the dear woman to death, but Eddie needed to be free. There was a whole sea of untapped potential that Eddie had to keep hidden away when he lived with his mother.
The first thing he had to keep hidden was that he was hopelessly, obviously, incredibly gay. He knew his mother would have a heart attack if she ever found out, which is why Eddie had kept it a secret since he was a child. Yes, he was currently in a relationship with a woman, but he knew it wasn't anything serious. He needed a cover up to tell his mother about, bring to family events, and to act like a perfect little girlfriend. Deep down inside, Eddie knew it was cruel, but it was also the only way he knew how to protect himself. Sure, it was 1998 and things were slowly getting better, and people were becoming more accepting of the gay community, but it still wasn't enough. Eddie didn't want to come out and step into a world he didn't know how to control.
Despite the fact that Eddie wasn't openly gay, it didn't stop him from exploring the queer scene. Whenever he found the time to slip away from his girlfriend, Myra, he would secretly spend his nights at The Button, a local LGBT bar and nightclub located twenty-five miles away from his school, Mayfair University. A lot of things have changed since Eddie was a teenager, but he was still terrified of germs and touching other people. He never let any of the guys he met touch or kiss him (as if they had a chance anyways, Eddie's standards were next to impossible), but he certainly didn't stop them from buying him a drink or, if they were lucky, occasionally sharing a dance with him. Everyone at the club thought Eddie looked like a fucking angel on Earth, and they sure as hell treated him as such. Eddie was just so cute and little and hot; no one at The Button could get enough of the resident pretty little princess.
Another aspect of his personality he had to conceal was the fact that he absolutely loved wearing makeup and cute pastel colored clothing. The twenty-two year old didn't wear loads of makeup, but on a normal day he could be seen wearing a light coat of mascara, eye linear, and a pale pink shade of lipstick. If he was going out to The Button, or if he was breaking out on a certain day, the tan skinned teen would go the extra mile and apply powder and foundation. As for his sense of fashion, Eddie was always dressing himself up in adorable pastel sweaters that were two or three sizes too big for him, ripped light washed skinny jeans that showed off his flawless legs, and sometimes he even put little flower crowns or hair clips in his soft brunette locks. Putting it simply, Eddie Kaspbrak was cute and everyone at Mayfair University knew it.
The city of Mayfair, Maine was huge and vibrant and urban and full of life; it was also completely different from his hometown. Eddie grew up in the little town of Derry, Maine, but he hasn't been back since he graduated high school in June of 1994. After distancing himself from his mother, he vowed to never return to the shitty little town ever again. The golden eyed boy doesn't remember much of his childhood, or his middle and high school years for that matter, but he doesn't really seem to mind. If he can't remember his friends or other small memories, then they must have never been important to begin with, right?
"Eddie!" his girlfriend, Myra, called from outside his dorm room as she annoyingly banged on the door. She was a short thin girl with dark blonde hair, boring brown eyes, and caramel colored skin. She was pretty enough, but of course she wasn't Eddie's type. The aggravated boy let out a loud sigh and allowed his shoulders to drop. The sound of Myra's whinny voice made him want to jump out the window and never look back. "Hurry up, or else we'll be late! I've been waiting for The Haze to come into town for six months, and so help me if we're late, I'll never let you hear the end of it!"
"Coming dear!" Eddie shouted aggressively, a little more harshly than he should have done so.
Eddie gave himself a quick glance over in the mirror and smiled. He was modeling a cute oversized pastel pink sweater, ripped white skinny jeans, and he had a rose flower crown intricately laced into his hair. The tanned skin teen looked beautiful, and as he checked himself out he wondered how Myra hadn't figured his true sexuality out yet, but then he thought that maybe she did know, but she was too afraid to ask him or admit it to himself.
Eddie shrugged and made his way over to his closet, his concerns for Myra long gone. As he riffled through his closet for his good pair of white Nike sneakers, he knocked over a large shoe box that looked like it had been up their for centuries. He picked up the dirty, beaten Bloomingdale's box cautiously, as if he were afraid it would give him meningitis or some other horrible disease. The box was at least seven years old, and it definitely did not belong to Eddie. No, the original owner of this box had size fourteen feet (Eddie's tiny feet were a size four in men's) and wore black combat boots, an article of clothing the chocolate eyed twenty-two year old had never purchased in his life.
The confused boy held the box in his arms, as if it were a precious artifact he had owned since the beginning of time, and gingerly settled down on his bed. Holding the Bloomingdale's box filled his chest with a deep sense of dread and made his heart ache. Why was he suddenly feelings so... Hurt? Eddie slowly opened the box, his heart beat racing a million miles a minute, and started exploring the treasures that had been hidden in his closet for so long.
The first thing he pulled out was a slightly faded photograph of him as a child with another boy his age. The boy was much taller than him and had wavy dark curls, cheerful golden brown eyes, pretty pale skin, and he wore coke-bottle glasses that made his eyes look ridiculously huge. He had his arm proudly wrapped around the shorter boy's slim shoulders, a shit eating grin taking over his entire face. The two boys were outside near some type of body of water, possibly a lake or maybe even a quarry. It all looked so familiar, but Eddie couldn't fully remember the memory. A sudden wave of hurt coursed throughout Eddie's now trembling body. He didn't realize he was crying until a few tears poured down onto the Polaroid picture. Who was this boy? Why the hell couldn't he remember his name?
Eddie flipped the picture over, only to find the words Eddie Spaghetti and Trashmouth, Summer, 1990 scribbled on the back in horrendous handwriting.
The teary eyed boy apprehensively pulled out another photograph. It was him and the same boy, but this time they were holding hands and looked to be around sixteen years old. Eddie was drowning in a dark denim jacket that was four or five sizes too big for him, and the other teen was wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a gray checkered scarf. He had no jacket on himself, which means the denim jacket was his, and he had given it to Eddie to keep him warm. The tan skinned teen smiled at the thought of the beautiful boy in the photograph wrapping his gigantic jacket around Eddie's slim shoulders. The memory was so sweet and comforting and it made Eddie's insides bubble. The raven haired teen had Eddie comfortably resting in his lap, his lips gently pressed against the shorter boy's. Eddie felt his heart fucking drop. He knew he was gay, but he didn't recall ever having a boyfriend. Was this fucking real? Who was this mystery man?
When he flipped over the photograph, it read Eds and Trashmouth, fall, 1992. Eddie felt his whole body physically cringe. Eds... Eds. He hadn't heard that nickname in years, but he had a vague recollection of someone calling him the dreaded nickname. He also remembered hating it with everything that he was.
"Eddie!" Myra cried out in frustration. "You're taking forever!"
"Just give me one more minute!" he yelled back in response.
Eddie quickly pulled out an ancient looking letter, the first one in a stack of at least a dozen more. His glazed over eyes swiftly scanned the messily written note. The golden eyed boy instantly noticed it was the same handwriting that was etched onto the back of all of the photographs.
My dear Eddie Spaghetti,
I hope you're doing okay. I know your life must fucking suck since I moved all the way to New York City. Despite the distance, I will continue to visit you and your mom in your dreams every night. Anyway... In all seriousness, I'm sure you'll be okay. We'll be okay. Besides, I'll always love you and Mrs. K, so you don't have to worry about me not being with you all the time.
It's hard to admit, but you not being here is fucking killing me. I've spent everyday of my life since we were in preschool by your side, and now that we're going to different universities, it's definitely hurting me. True love hurts, and this pain could almost fucking kill me.
I know it sounds cheesy, but I wrote you a little something. It's only my first week here at Julliard, but all of my teachers said it's an amazing start. This one's for you my love.
Baby love of mine
You're scared and cold
Scarf tied up so tight
And body covered from head to toe
It's cold outside
But you wa-
"Eddie, I swear if you don't come out this instant, I'm leaving without you!" she wailed.
The now weeping boy rolled his eyes and carefully put the withered letter back into it's place. He wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his oversized sweater, carelessly slipping on his everyday shoes. He didn't give a shit about finding his good pair anymore. All he wanted to do was find the boy in the photographs, the one who apparently loved him and kissed him and cared about him and-
"EDDIE KASPBRAK!"
"I'm here!" Eddie yelled as he swung his bedroom door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Myra's annoyed expression fell the second she saw her broken looking boyfriend. "What's wrong babe? Why do you look so upset?"
"It's nothing, really," Eddie lied easily. He had been lying to Myra since the beginning of their relationship over five months ago, he had no problem manipulating her, and he certainly didn't feel guilty about his dishonesty anymore. She was easy to fool and never asked too many questions. "My mom just called me and she was really upset. I'm still a little shaken up over it," he said tearfully, purposely guilting her into dropping the topic.
"I'm sorry baby, I had no idea," she apologized sincerely. "Let's just get going, okay? The concert is going to start soon. I'm sure the live music and festive atmosphere will make you feel better in no time."
~Page Break~
Eddie's anxiety level immediately spiked the second he saw the concert venue. Hundreds, no, thousands of people were rushing into the concert hall, decorated in The Haze t-shirts, hoodies, and other wearable merch items. His own girlfriend was sporting the band's most popular t-shirt design, a solid white and black shirt with the profile of a teen's chocolate brown eyes, tan skin, and perfectly arched eyebrows. The teen on the shirt was young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and the corners of his eyes indicated that he was smiling.
"I'm so excited!" the blonde haired girl cheered as she grabbed Eddie's wrist and started ushering them through the crowd. Within minutes Myra had managed to get them into the crowded concert hall and all the way to the front row where their seats were located. A pretty girl with mousy red hair, sparkling blue eyes, and alabaster skin strummed her bass as the rest of the band began to assemble. A dark skinned guy was stationed at the drums, a handsome looking young man with brown hair and ocean blue eyes was rehearsing a few notes on the piano, and the band's lead singer (or at least Eddie presumed him to be), stepped up to the microphone, guitar slung across his chest.
The chocolate eyed boy literally felt the air leave his lungs. The man at the mic was so damn beautiful. His long pitch black curls perfectly curtained his freckle coated face, his lips were full and a pretty light red color, and he was tall and lean and ugh Eddie couldn't stop staring and thinking about how gorgeous this guy was.
He stared at the group in awe, a sense of nostalgia pulling at his heart. The group in front of him felt so familiar, but he had no idea why. Sure, Myra talked about them almost every time they hung out, but he never really listened to their music or anything like that. Where the hell did he remember them from? Eddie found himself staring at the only girl on stage, desperately raking his mind for a plastic memory that may not even exist.
As he searched his mind for even the smallest hint of a memory, the blue eyed girl caught Eddie's confused eyes. Her mouth practically fell to the ground, a look of realization crossing her pretty features. She mouthed the words 'holy shit it's Eddie mother fucking Kaspbrak,' and the brown haired boy felt like he was about to pass out. The girl on stage recognized him. She fucking remembered who he was, but he couldn't for the love of god remember her.
She looked like she was about to scream something at him, but before the words could escape her throat, the lead singer of the band started speaking.
"First, I'd like to thank everyone for coming out," he started smoothly. A wave of screams and giggles echoed from all the girls in the crowd, including Myra. "Today's a really special night for me and my friends. In case you guys don't know, we all grew up right here in Maine-" he paused for a second as the crowd cheered at the mention of Maine, "-and it's our first show back home since our band went big. Being here is so fucking personal for us, and we couldn't be more grateful."
"What part of Maine are they from?" Eddie whispered into the blonde haired girl's ear.
"I don't know," she shrugged, never taking her eyes off the stage. "They've never announced it to the public before, no one knows why."
Eddie raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend's suspicious words. Why wouldn't they want to tell people where they're from?
"Like I said earlier, I haven't been back in Maine in a long, long time. A part of me was always too scared to come back because I thought it would be too hard." The lead singer looked down at his feet wistfully, nervously running a hand through his messy raven curls. A few girls in the crowd started crying, and Myra quickly joined them.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"He hasn't been back in Maine since he was in high school," Myra started. "Apparently he had his heart broken a few years ago, and he hasn't mustered up the courage to come back until now. It really fucking sucks that someone would hurt an artist as inspirational as him like that. How can someone be so cold and cruel?"
The coke-bottle glasses wearing teen sorrowfully wiped away the single tear that dripped down from his left eye. He took in a deep breath and sniffled before continuing his conversation with the audience. Eddie could tell talking about all of this was physically painful for him. Inside, Eddie was hurting too. He didn't know why, but he was.
"Being back here has been an incredibly difficult experience for me. Every where I go, I see the face of the person I've been in love with since I was a kid. We haven't seen each other or spoken in several years, I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now, but no matter how hard I try, I can't fucking get him out of my mind. He's everything I see." Another tear spilled from the teen's hazy brown eyes. He looked like he was about to have a full blown emotional breakdown. "Screw this sad bullshit, who's ready to fucking party?"
The audience erupted into a chorus of cheers and screams as the band began playing their hit song Twenty First Century Princess. According to Myra, the song was about the lead singer's first (and only) love. The lyrics explained how the teen was far ahead of his time, and how he was viewed as a gorgeous princess. Eddie watched the whole show in silence, his eyes occasionally catching the blue eyed girl's attention. As the concert came to an end, the lead singer started speaking again.
"You guys have honestly been amazing tonight, you're the best crowd we've ever had," he started genuinely. "Since it's our first night back in Maine, we've decided to play you guys something special. As you all know, I lost my little Spaghetti a long, long time ago. This song is for him, and it's called Everyone Under the Sun. My Spaghetti was the light of my life, and I can only hope he hears this song one day. I miss him.. I fucking miss him more than anything. Baby, if there's a chance that you hear, this one's for you."
Baby love of mine
You're scared and cold
Scarf tied up so tight
And body covered from head to toe
Eddie could not fucking believe. This wasn't possible. None of this was real. It couldn't be real! Those four beautiful, perfect, mesmerizing lines were the same ones that were written on the love letter hidden deep inside his closet. The boy in the pictures... With the coke-bottle glasses and curly hair and the adorable freckles...
It was at that moment it all clicked together in Eddie's mind. He started hyperventilating, his chest heaving harder than it had in four long years. By his sophomore year of university, his asthma attacks had almost completely stopped. Eddie was confident he didn't need his inhaler anymore, so he left it home instead of carrying it around everywhere he went. Big fucking mistake.
It's cold outside
But you walk alone
Nose red from frost
And tears dried from snow
"Eddie, baby?" Myra cried when she realized what was happening. "Eddie! Baby, calm down! Try to breathe!"
The short teen fell to his knees, unable to breathe, his chest closing in on him. The people standing next to them formed a small circle that immediately captured the band's attention.
"What's going on?" the dark skinned drummer shouted over the chattering crowd.
"He's having an asthma attack!" the blonde haired girl yelled in a panicked tone. "He forgot his inhaler at home and he can't breathe!"
The raven haired teen looked down at Eddie and instantly jumped off the stage. He pulled an inhaler out from his pocket and gently placed it into the teen's mouth, his hands shaking as he did so. Eddie's breathing was so hysterical and inconsistent, the pale skinned teen was having difficulty getting the inhaler in the right position. His eyes were wild and wide and terrified all at the same time. His breathing became so rapid Myra thought he was going to take a hit from the inhaler himself.
"Eddie, calm down," he whispered in a low voice. Myra watched the encounter in shock, her eyes wider than cherry pies. "Please Eds, focus on me. Breathe."
When he finally managed to get the inhaler in Eddie's mouth, he pushed the button twice and started rubbing smooth circles across his lower back.
"How in the world do you know my boyfriend?" Myra asked suddenly, completely starstruck.
A flash of pain sparked across Richie Tozier's now frowning face. "This is your boyfriend?"
Myra slowly nodded her head, her eyebrows raised, clearly waiting for an explanation.
"It's a long story, do you mind if I steal him for a little while?"
Richie didn't give Myra time to respond. Instead, he picked the tiny teen up bridal style and carried him onto the stage.
"I'm sorry guys, it looks like I'm going to have to cut this performance short. My little Eddie Spaghetti needs some serious medical attention right now."
The audience exploded into a loud fit of shocked screams, cries, shrieks, squeals, and yelping.
"That's Richie's Spaghetti?" a girl from somewhere in the crowd screamed loud enough for Myra to hear.
"Holy fucking shit!" another girl hollered. "Holy fuck!"
"After all these years, we finally got to see the freaking guy he's been talking about since the start of his career!" a younger girl closer to the front bellowed.
"What the actual hell is going on," the blonde haired teen muttered to herself, absolutely lost and dumbfounded.
~Page Break~
The raven haired teen carried Eddie into the band's green room, the other Losers closely following behind the pair. He took a seat on the sofa and gently placed Eddie in his lap, running his fingers through his soft brunette hair and playing with the boy's cheeks. To Eddie's surprise, the taller teen leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. A million emotions swelled in his heart all at once, and for the second time that day, he allowed himself to cry.
"E-E-Eddie, it's r-really y-yo-you," the blue eyed pianist sniffled. "It's m-m-me, B-Bill. And t-t-that's B-Beverly, and M-M-M-Mike, a-and that's R-Richie o-of course."
"I can't believe it. It's like I'm seeing a ghost," Mike whispered in disbelief.
"Trashmouth," Eddie mumbled, realization slapping him hard across the face. As he looked up at Richie's ridiculous coke-bottle glasses, messy dark curls, and cute freckled face, he couldn't help but smile. Some things never change.
The pale skinned teen grinned from ear to ear and kissed Eddie's forehead again. "I have been looking for you everywhere," he said quietly. "Where have you been for the past four years? I thought I lost you forever."
The shorter boy blinked sadly, tears threatening to spill over. He was having trouble remembering his life before university. As he searched the deepest corners of his mind palace, he remembered a distant memory from his freshman year that he tried so hard to forget.
"You stopped writing me," Eddie started solemnly. "I waited for days to get your letter, and then weeks, and then months, and then years, but your letter never came. It broke my heart."
Richie shook his head in disbelief, his eyes red and puffy from crying. "I never stopped writing you, Eds. No fucking way in hell. I've written you every single day for the past four years. You seriously never got any of my letters?"
"No," he admitted. "But I have a pretty good idea of why I never got them. I'm starting to remember bits and pieces. My mom, she didn't like you very much, did she?"
"Nope," he laughed bitterly. "Mrs. K hated me more than Bev hates Gretta Keene."
"Oh bite me, Trashmouth," she hissed.
"You mailed the letters to my house, didn't you?" Richie nodded his head yes in response. "She was supposed to forward every letter delivered to me, but she never did."
"That lying, stupid, fucking bit-"
"B-Beep be-beep, R-Richie," Bill stuttered.
"Sorry," he grumbled, obviously not sorry at all.
"I can't believe she would try to keep you away from me," Eddie said. "I spent my freshman year of college believing you didn't love me anymore. I stayed in bed for weeks because I was too depressed to leave my dorm room."
Richie intertwined his fingers with Eddie's and squeezed his hand tightly. "As if I could ever forget you, Eds."
"Don't call me that," he complained.
"Never," Richie replied, staring down at Eddie and kissing his cheek. The younger boy blushed brightly and brought his free hand up to his face, his insides suddenly turning into jelly.
"We should go find Stan and Ben," Beverly stated sneakily. "They were out there in the crowd, and now they're probably freaking out and wondering what the hell is going on."
"I agree with Bev," Mike added a little too quickly. "We'll catch up with you two later."
The Losers left the room without another word, leaving the torn apart lovers alone for the first time in four years.
"They aren't very subtle, are they?" Eddie asked out loud.
"Fuck no," Richie answered. "They have a lot of trouble trying to be discrete, it's awful."
Richie looked down at the small boy lovingly cuddled up in his arms and grinned. He had been waiting for this day for over four years, and his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. Eddie Kaspbrak is the love of his life, and now that they're back together, he's going to make sure the golden eyed teen never forgets it.
"I missed you, Rich," the younger boy blurted out. "I didn't realize it, but there's always been a part of me missing, and that's because you weren't there."
"I'm sorry," the pale skinned teen sobbed. "I wanted to be there for you. I wanted you so badly. Losing you was the worst pain I've ever felt. I almost lost my fucking mind looking for you."
"I'm sorry," Eddie apologized between cries. "I can't believe I forgot Derry, forgot you. I feel so ashamed and terrible and-"
"Can I kiss you right now?" the older teen questioned, effectively shutting the younger boy up.
Eddie pulled Richie down by the hem of his t-shirt and pressed a hard, longing, passionate kiss to Richie's mouth. The golden eyed boy threw his slim arms around Richie's broad shoulders. Richie, completely taken aback, awkwardly sits there for a solid ten seconds before his body finally gets with the program. He possessively wraps his arms around Eddie's slim waist and pulls the shorter boy closer to his chest, the heat between them rising.
Richie took Eddie's lower lip between his teeth and gently tugged, causing the younger boy to let out a high, hungry groan. The pale skinned teen took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Eddie's mouth. Eddie tangled his hands in Richie's thick black hair and pulled. Richie released a low, breathy moan, and leaned his head back in pleasure. It was going to be a long night.
The End!
It took me over two weeks to write this but I'm pretty damn proud of myself. It's not explained in the story, but Richie's band is called The Haze because Eddie has hazy brown eyes. If you pay attention to the shirt's details, you'll be able to tell that I was describing Eddie (:
Follows, favorites, and comments are greatly appreciated and they make me the happiest girl in the world. Seriously, a comment, it makes me feel better about myself x'D If you have any suggestions or you just want to be Tumblr friends, you can find me at reddiesspaghetti
Thanks for reading you guys! I may turn this into a series if it's requested enough, but for now this is the end.
~Naya