They were finishing setup a little late when Eddie burst in. He sprinted straight to Dustin and grabbed him by the collar.
"What the -"
"What's Rosie's favorite song?"
"Huh?"
"Rosie!"
"Who!"
"You know..."
"My aunt?" Dustin stood up. "Why do you want to know?"
"No reason. I just really would like to know her favorite song?"
"Is she being hunted by Vecna?" Will joked. Mike laughed.
"Very funny. No. She - "
"I'm not telling you." Sitting back down, Dustin turned around. "You're being weird."
"Henderson!" Almost grabbing him again, Munson switched methods and patted the boy on the head. Dustin squirmed away. "Dustin... please. I'm just asking."
"Why? So you can keep making her uncomfortable every time she shows up here? Which she won't, by the way. She's not picking me up today."
"That's fine. I still want to know."
"No! Stop it, all of you. Can you not see how grossed out Rosie is when you guys start talking to her?"
"I don't think she's grossed out." Surprisingly, Will objected.
"She is! She doesn't like it. She's not into freaks!"
That made Eddie back away.
"Harsh, Henderson." Paulie chuckled.
"Ouch." Added Warren.
Munson lingered for a minute, turning the rings on his left hand, then retreated to his seat. Paulie clapped him on the back and tried to make a joke, but he remained uncharacteristically serious.

The game went mostly uninterrupted after that, with Eddie being overly polite to Dustin and vice versa. They were nearing the end in the session when Munson suddenly jerked up.
"The Beast."
Will pointed to the figure he had introduced that round. "It's a gorgon."
"No! No." He held up his fingers and started counting. "In the store. That's what she picked out."
They all gawked at him. Dustin shook his head.
Eddie slapped the heel of his hand against his temple. "Ugh! I'm turning up blank. Warren, help me out here. 666, Gangland, Acadia..."
"Huh!"
"Songs! There's eight songs!" His chair scraped away from the table as he rose to pace. "Hills, of course. Aha! The last song! It's the last song! Garret! Paulie!"
Paulie raised his hand like he was still in class. "Hallowed?"
"Hallowed Be Thy Name!" Eddie clapped victoriously. "Oh, but I don't think I can do those long notes, boys."
"They're not that long."
"Not that long!" To Dustin's horror, Eddie started to sing: "But at five o'clock they'll take me to the gallows, ohhhhh..." He gasped for air. "I can't."
"And the other one's longer." Added Garret.
Rubbing his diaphragm like that might help, he tried the next line: "The sands of time for me, are running loowwwww - ack!"
He started spluttering, but his friends were engaged now, and offered some advice. Deeper breaths, break up the notes. You don't need to be Dickenson. None of them seemed to notice Dustin glowering across the table. He continued to glower til the end of their session, because Eddie spent the whole time singing that damned song. A song he no doubt intended to serenade Rosie with.

The Hideout had character. She tried to convince herself it was a good character as she eased into the smell of stale cigarettes and old beer. The row of old-to-middle-aged men at the bar turned to watch as she tiptoed past, seeking the corner with the sticky dance floor and tiny stage. A small group of scruffy metalheads had taken over this space, and she perched on a bar stool near them, right up against the wall and out of sight of most of the gawkers. She would also be easily seen from the stage here, so Eddie wouldn't miss her.
They came on without any intro; the lights barely dimmed and a spotlight hastily thrown over the members. Metal Militia could barely be heard over the polite cheers and applause from patrons. Eddie, too his credit, approached the mic with swagger.
"Good evening folks." Not a very impressive intro. "We are Corroded Coffin...again."
A few laughs. Rosie clapped. He caught her eye and grinned. "Hope you'll excuse the noise for the next 25 minutes. Some of you might even enjoy it."
One of the bikers near her wolf-whistled. Eddie blew him a kiss. Rosie chuckled to herself. The band struck up a chord as he shouldered his guitar, and played without stopping for a full 27 minutes before the lights got abruptly turned back on. A few classic covers, nothing original, but they didn't mess up once. Even in the face of a roomfull of fully-illuminated strangers, Eddie maintained his pizzazz.
"Thank you, Hawkins!" He screamed, as the band simply hopped off the stage and made for the bar. "Same time next week."
With the set over as soon as it started, he shrugged off his instrument and lovingly placed it into a case he pulled from behind the drumkit. One of the guys up front offered to help with his amp, and Eddie led him out to his car. The stage was cleared in a few minutes, leaving no evidence of their performance. Rosie watched quietly. She hadn't ordered a drink, not liking the look of the glasses under the counter. So she just...sat there, swinging her legs. Without the welcome distraction of music, she was now painfully aware that she was alone here.
I should go. Eddie was still outside, probably loading his car and talking to his friends. I should go. She looked around, catching the eye of a man about twice her age, oggling her over the corner of the bar. Trying to sit back further into the corner, she checked her nail polish.
"You made it!" Eddie, finally, strode up to greet her.
"Nine o'clock." She replied, grinning. "I said I'd be here."
"You know..." He shuffled over to whisper, hands stuffed in his pockets. "I really thought you were just saying that to get away from me."
"No!" Objected Rosie. "Not at all. You...you were great."
"Thanks." Rocking happily on his heels, he moved to lean on the stool next to hers, but didn't sit. "You look nice."
Nice. The color rushed to her cheeks. She looked down at her sundress and black docs - which she had polished especially for the occasion. "I wanted to look the part."
Eddie smiled. "You don't need to look any part."
"Well considering how shocked you were at the revelation of my music tastes..."
"I wasn't shocked!" He was playing with the stool now, moving it up and down. "More like impressed."
"Right." She wanted to ask if he was impressed by how she looked, but chickened out. "Are you going to get a drink?"
He nodded slowly, stood up to catch the barman's attention, then held a hand out to her. "Can I...uh..."
Rosie hardly opened her mouth to respond.
"Hold that thought, actually. Gotta pee."
As he danced away, waving, she couldn't help laughing. Until she noticed the same guy, still gawking. He stood up. She turned away.
"Drink."
"Huh?"
"What do you drink?"
"I don't really drink."
"Bullshit. You're in a bar aren't you."
"I'm not drinking tonight."
"You were going to let that nancy buy you something."
"I, uh -"
"Two beers."
She gave the barman a wide-eyed look. "No, thank you."
"Two beers."
The poor barman just stood there with two glasses in his hand. Her admirer slammed the counter, and he jumped into pulling two beers.
"Girl said no." A deep voice rumbled from behind. One of the biker-looking guys from the group nearest her had stepped forward. A huge, leather-clad man with tattoos on his head in place of hair.
"None of your business."
"It's my business if a girl says no and some mouth-breather don't listen." The biker took two steps, enough to stand towering over the other man. Her admirer, realizing he was picking a fight with the wrong person, returned to his stool and gestured for the barman to give him both beers, instead.
"Thanks." Rosie sighed.
"I'll keep an eye on him, Sweetheart. But I think you and your boyfriend should leave."
"Me too."

Eddie trotted back not long after, and the biker slipped back into his group as he approached. They greeted each other by name, and Rosie understood he was probably a regular.
"Hey. Sorry." Eddie said. "Line was killer."
"It's fine."
Something must've shown on her face. Eddie glanced over to Murphy, then to her. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." That guy was looking again. This time at Eddie. He wasn't happy. "Listen, I think I'm gonna go."
His smile faded. He looked authentically sad this time, not one of his silly pouts. "But we haven't hung out yet."
"Sorry. I'm just tired."
"Do you need a ride?"
"I have my car."
"The grandma mobile?"
"What?" She cackled. "You know, that's accurate. So yes."
His pout lightened. "So you're not mad at me?"
"No. Why would I be mad?"
"Many reasons."
Rosie giggled again. Then her eyes landed on the man staring daggers into the back of Eddie's head. "I really better go."
She hopped off her stool, waved to Murphy, who had also noticed her admirer watching Eddie, and proceeded to march out. Eddie was hot on her heels.
"I'll walk you to your car!"
I don't want him to catch you alone. "You don't need to."
"I want to."
She looked back, Eddie skipped up beside her, smiling but still upset. The guy had left his seat at the bar, and Murphy was moving to intercept. "Thanks."
To her dismay, he followed her gaze, and spotted the two men squaring up by the bar. "Did that guy say something to you?"
"Don't worry about it."
"If he upset you, I'll - "
Rosie caught him by the elbow. "Eddie!"
His eyes flickered from the hand on his arm, to her face, to the guy poking his finger in Murphy's chest. "Come on."
She led him to her car. Eddie stood guard, watching the door as she unlocked the driver's side. Murphy was leading the other man out, now, both of them yelling at each other across the lot. "Thanks, Eddie."
"I'm sorry about him."
"Not your fault."
"No... I'm sorry I got mad, too."
"Don't be."
"I just wanted to hang out."
Rosie leaned on the roof of her car. "I mean... we still could?"
He bobbed up on his toes. "We could?"
"Is there anywhere else to go?"
"Not really. And I'm kinda broke."
"Ah."
"There is my place."
"Oh."
"Not like that!" He assured her. "I don't mean that in any kind of s-suggestive way. Just it's free and I have beers. And music! There's no creepy guys there except me and I'm pretty sure you could take me."
"I'd love to."
"You would?"
"Yeah." She slid behind the wheel. "Can you lead the way?"