Routine Two:
III
'86.
Motherfucking '86 is his year.
And it's made even more evident as Chrissy the Queen wishes him good luck for his graduation as if he wasn't full of shit and being loud and obnoxious in the cafeteria. She's smiling, and blushing just a bit underneath her makeup, and he feels too big for his worn reeboks, and his jacket and vest, at the way she's looking up at him. Her eyes are green, deep, and wide, a contrast to her blue eye shadow and he shouldn't be thinking how fucking cute it is that when she's smiling, really smiling, her nose crinkles just a touch.
He's Eddie the Freak, but even he's seen Chrissy the Queen, and wondered at the sweet thing that walked the same halls as him. He's not blind, and maybe he's always had a soft spot for Chrissy Cunningham since she was a sprite of an eleven-year-old at the middle-school talent show, because she sweetly told a fourteen-year-old, weedy, skinhead-looking shithead with bad acne and that he did a good job after his performance. Waved her pink little pom poms, grinning around her sparkly pink braces.
In his mind, he's always thought of Chrissy the Queen like Galadriel, untouchable, lovely queen of the pom poms and basket tosses, powerful and separate from the rest of these mortals. How could he not? All he had seen when he saw was her wealth, and her status as cheerleading captain, that she was the darling of the academic scene and pretty as the dawn. And he's Gimili, unworthy, only just admiring even as he bumbles and blusters about how bullshit everyone around her is.
But when Jason Carver grabs her wrist, his personal Galadriel flinches.
"Hey man," his fury is molten, even as he tries not think too much of it, he was probably annoyed that sweet Chrissy was giving the Freak the time of day and was using too much pressure on accident, "You're hurting her. Ease up on the grip-"
Eddie thinks he sees pure red when Jason only narrows his eyes, the tendons in his knuckles going bone-white from the strain. Chrissy cringes in his grip.
"What the fuck! I said ease up, Carver!" he snarls, and he's in wrenching the idiot off of her.
Two things happen.
One, Chrissy's cute little cheer letter rips in Carver's grasping fist.
And two, at the sight of the vivid hand-shaped bruises on her arm, in the very same place were Carver had been holding her, the very same size, Eddie is fucking swinging without much of a thought.
So I'm going to say this right now.
Different POVs will be inserted peirodically, as of now, it seems to be firmly in the Eddie camp. I'm writing and assessing who will have chapters, and this girl is going through Stranger Things's four seasons all over again to get the feel of the show a little bit better, but yeah, mostly Eddie because of course Chrissy is going to gravitate towards that boy.
BUT, since this is Chrissy going through a 'Happy Death Day'/ 'Groundhog's Day' esque repeat, be aware that a lot of the language of these separate POVs(whoever they may be) are going to be repetitive if they show up more then once in the Routines.
I did that on purpose. These people are not changing, only their reactions are slightly different because the stimuli they are receiving are different. The only character that is developing will be Chrissy Cunningham until she can get herself to stop dying. This will get worse before it gets better, Vecna/Henry is the Final Boss and Chrissy is only a level one Bard to use the D'n'D reference to death.
As of why Eddie is the only POV I've written right now, its because I am of the firm opinion that in logical course of events, Chrissy Cunningham's first thought in this weird ass stituation will not be to ask a bunch of the younger members of the Hellfire Club for help. Freaking highschool freshmen being well equipped to help her is not even a thought in her mind. Eddie got really LUCKY that the Party more or less adored him and were ready to go after him when shit went down.
Chrissy is only aware of the Party in the periphery in future Routines as she gets to know the Hellfire Club, and even then only as Eddie's Freshmen. Much like season Four, shit is happening tangentally, and when she finally gets a handle on surviving past Friday, she is going to be just as bewildered at the Party as they are at her.
Chrissy: Like, holly shit you've been dealing with this nonsense since you were how old?!
The Party: You can rewind time!? Wait, you died?! MORE THEN ONCE?!
Chrissy, so ignoring that: Crumbs you poor babies! I'll protect you, I promise!