Summary:
I am just a new boy
Stranger in this town
Where are all the good times?
Who's gonna show this stranger around?
Ooh, I need a dirty woman
Ooh, I need a dirty girl
Will some woman in this desert land
Make me feel like a real man?
Take this rock and roll refugee
Ooh, baby set me free
- Pink Floyd (Young Lust)
A/N: sorry this took so long, I'm crunching trying to get my manuscript for my second novel done. I love y'all sm and thank you for your support.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. As the author, I do not always agree with the actions the characters take. The MC has Haphephobia. The depiction of such in the story may not be entirely accurate and I do not claim it to be so. The depictions of anxiety and OCD are based on my own personal experience and do not apply to the illnesses as a whole. As always there is a violence and gore warning. There will be mentions of various sensitive topics which are updated in the tags, read at your own risk.
June 18, 1984
Heavy distortion blasted from the old, beat-up amp in the corner of the bedroom as Eddie played the same few chords over and over again. Each time was a little different, hitting them too soon or too late, never quite right. And he grew increasingly more frustrated each time, cursing until he nearly threw his prized warlock across the room.
Instead of doing that, he unplugged it, stomped over to its shrine, and hung it up carefully. Then he stormed from his bedroom and out of the trailer. The sun was high, but Wayne had already left for work. Mads and Tris both worked the day shift so they could play with him and the rest of the band at the Hideaway later that evening, but he wasn't ready. He couldn't even get through the first song without fucking up.
His shaking hand fingered the black pick he kept around his neck when he wasn't playing. The rough feeling of his nails catching in the grooves of the engraving made him pause.
"…You never touch me, you never feel me
You never see me again because I just become unseen…"
They were lyrics from the seventh track on Dio's first album, Invisible. Tris had given him the pick as a Christmas present, words from her heart from a band they both loved. And she was right, he had never truly seen her. Because until last year, he hardly remembered she had existed. In elementary school her hair was blonde as blonde could be; he now knew her mother had bleached it. He only interacted with her one time, to chase off Tommy for bullying her on the playground, trying so hard not to be like his father and allow men to harass women.
After that, he was too shy to speak to her again, and she had tried to kiss his cheek which… Ew, cooties to a seven-year-old. Not long after – when she had stopped doing all those pageants and let her hair grow out to brown again – Eddie had developed a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. Who, for all intents and purposes, was very similar to Tris at that time.
As they grew older, Tris was always in the background, just hovering at the edge of his periphery: playing her cello at the talent show right after his band had gone on – he remembered that because she played a Black Sabbath song – in a handful of his classes, occasionally seeing her in some of the same geeky spots he and the Hellfire gang frequented, sometimes buying weed off him. Hell, he had barely registered her when she asked to join Hellfire.
Had he ever truly seen her? Like really seen her?
That was a big, fat "no".
Until she had decided to go after the Demogorgon with just a pair of knives and a cigarette lighter. Until she held him outside the school smelling of smoke and ash and bared her heart to him. Until she gave him that pick for Christmas. Until he opened his eyes and really fucking looked at her, then he kissed her.
Now Eddie couldn't seem to stop seeing her. Everywhere he went he saw something that reminded him of her. Of her smile, her laughter… The way she riled him up with her jokes and incessant chatter. The thick, intoxicating smell of her perfume. The way his lips tasted after he kissed her. Or the way the honey-brown color of her eyes stayed there in the back of his mind long after he pulled away and wished her a Merry Christmas. They were so, so sad.
And when she was around, he couldn't take his eyes off of her, much less think straight because of that kiss. Because of her kindness and bravery. Because she was just really fucking badass. Now, he wouldn't stop using that pick, just so she would know. Just so Tris would know that she wasn't invisible to him anymore, that he couldn't help but see her in anything and everything he saw, heard, smelled…
He swallowed, clenching his fist around the pick so hard it dug painfully into the flesh of his palm. He could barely eat anything cherry-flavored without thinking of the way she tasted when he kissed her last Christmas.
He had been with girls before, usually older than him and on their way out to university. Girls who wanted to say they had slept with the frontman of a band. He hadn't slept with any of those girls in a while though, not since all that weird shit began happening last year. Suddenly his friends and his life seemed much more meaningful than screwing around, and it was all thanks to Mads.
Eddie usually wasn't a confrontational person, but when that Hargrove kid had Mads cornered by the Wilsons' mailbox, he couldn't help but feel like he needed to act tough in front of Tris. Even if he did want to protect Mads from the guy.
Who was he kidding though? Mads didn't need protection from anyone or anything. She had beaten that creep across the Vale then nearly beaten that monster when El stepped in. He had seen Mads kill other human beings.
His act was mostly all for show. All so Mads would understand he hadn't forgotten about her, and so Tris would see him as she wanted him to see her. Cool, tough, mature, brave. Not some kid with a second-rate band who was never getting out of this goddamn trailer park, much less graduating high school.
God, he was a miserable sap. He, his friends, and a handful of townsfolk who would only look at him as trouble before last year beat back an interdimensional threat and all he could worry about was his feelings for a girl he hadn't realized existed until a few months ago. There was a word for guys like him.
Pathetic.
A dark shadow loomed across the sky, hanging low over the row of houses that were mottled with rot and vines. The sky was an ugly, yellowed grey reflecting the toxic miasma of the atmosphere. Flashes of lightning lit the sky intermittently, illuminating the ground below. Those flashes of light did nothing to dispel the shadow, instead showing just how dark and threatening it was.
Mads felt a cold sweat running down her back as she stood, frozen in fear staring up at the shadow. It was looking at her. She knew it was. Or rather, it was looking at the person whose eyes she was seeing this through. 001 had trapped her in another illusion. Last year she had thought as long as she kept the barrier strong, she would be safe. But after so many months of him defying her every attempt to keep him from plaguing her, she was no longer certain.
She only knew he couldn't interact with anything but her. Much to her own torment. And there wasn't a single thing she could do about it.
That connection between them was forged the night 001 attempted to squeeze the life from her, and there was no breaking it now that she had accepted it; unless one or both of them were to die.
"Such morbid thoughts you have, Little Spider," 001 crooned in her mind.
The poor soul who was seeing this horrid vision with her would not be able to hear him. For that, she had to be grateful. The sight of this shadow alone was awful enough without the addition of 001's voice.
"Make this stop," she begged, straining against the frozen body her consciousness was trapped in. "Please, make this stop! This person hasn't done anything to you!"
"Oh, you poor thing," he whispered, claws scraping against her brain. "Every person who has ever existed has had a hand in our suffering, you and I included. You cannot expect me to be compassionate to the prey we were placed in these universes to destroy."
The shadow began to descend on them, its legs writhing like a spider's and swirling like smoke. A trembling fear overtook Mads that did not belong to her and did all the same. For a moment all she could think to do was close her eyes, but she couldn't even if she wanted to.
"Please!" she screamed as the shadow drew near, its 'face' descending toward her and whoever was experiencing this vision with her.
"Since you asked so nicely," 001 sighed begrudgingly.
At once, Mads was slammed back into her own body with such force that she had to grip the register counter at Melvald's for support. Heaving gasps shook her shoulders and chest. For a moment. she wasn't sure if she was back in her own body, not until the feeling of the other person's terror began to fade. All that was left in its wake was her own fear, her own helplessness. The shelves filled with summer items, snacks, and regular fare began to flood her vision. The images from across the Vale quickly receded into nothing but a horrific memory.
Anger began to burn away at those feelings. She was supposed to be a Jedi, a superhero. Why was it so difficult for her to take down the bad guys? She only killed a few DoE agents last year – she didn't even know if Pa—Dr. Brenner was even dead. The Lab was still operating, intact, and not held responsible for what happened to Barb, the Byers, or anyone else. Worst of all…
"Why must you constantly ruin my fun?" 001 snapped, leaning against the counter next to her.
"Go away," Mads hissed between her teeth, still struggling to catch her breath. "I'm working."
"How mundane," he commented in a bored tone. "Free me and we can have a lot more fun."
"I want no part in whatever kind of fun you're thinking of."
"You used to be up for anything."
"Mhm, and now I'm not. How boring for you."
001 sighed and brushed a hand through his perfect curls. Mads knew this form was merely a disguise for what he truly looked like now – she had caught enough glimpses of him last year to know he was no longer as beautiful as she remembered – but to see it always shattered her heart.
Love… Love was something she always struggled with. 001 and Papa were the first people she truly loved, and they both betrayed her. Kali came next, and that love quickly shriveled when Mads realized Kali only wanted her abilities. Love always ruined Mads.
That love she once harbored for 001 was still there, deep down in the broken halls of her heart, but it didn't change the fact that he became a horrible creature of death and destruction. Or… that he always had been, even before she was born.
The feelings that arose when she looked upon his too-perfect face were not her fault. He had taken care of her and nurtured her abilities and talents when no one else would – whatever his intentions may have been once she grew older. Hate and love were not opposites, no. One cannot experience hate without first knowing the sting of betrayal, the ache of a broken heart. That love she once had for him was still there, and it was nothing she was ashamed of.
The hate she felt for him far outweighed it now.
That was consolation enough.
"I know you're contemplating taking those pills, but darling…" he sighed, fixing her with a stare that would have ignited her insides had she not known what a monster he was – what a monster he wanted her to become. "I beg you, please don't. They will ruin that perfect mind, destroy your abilities."
"If that's what it takes to get you to leave me alone—" she started, her hand inching for the pocket of her backpack she kept under the counter.
"No!" he growled as the shrill sound of the phone ringing cut through the air.
She paused, her hand still hovering above the pocket of her backpack, her mouth watered at the thought of swallowing that small white pill. It wouldn't take but half an hour to feel the effects. Mads had asked for the liquid version and she had never seen Rick so angry. He had given her the pills instead.
"Are you gonna answer that?" Jeffery called from the back.
Mads jumped and pulled the phone off its hook. "Hello, Melvald's General Goods store, this is Madison speaking. How may I help you?"
She glared at 001's smirking face as he gazed down at her from his periphery as he remained leaning up against the counter. Would it kill him to look more like the monster he was? That might make this easier to deal with. She still saw him when she took the pills, but he was easier to ignore because she saw so much and felt so little.
"Mads?" Eddie's voice called through the receiver. He sounded strained, angry. "It's me, I need you to make sure Tris isn't late tonight."
"Me?" she complained, eyes flashing toward her backpack again. "Why me? We're both working the same shift right now."
"That's why I need you to do it."
"I might not be able to get ahold of her until we're both home, you know that."
"Can you just—"
The loud jingling of the front door's bell cut him off, drawing Mads' eyes to a group of customers coming in all at once. And one particularly tall middle-aged man was striding right toward her with fervor in his eyes.
"Fine," Mads snapped, silently cursing Eddie and his stupidity. "I'll get on that."
"Thanks," he breathed, relief heavy in his voice.
"Yeah, whatever," she said, pausing before hanging up. "Hey, do me a favor?"
"Sure, what do you need?"
"Get your head out of your ass for me, would you?"
With that, she slammed the phone back into the cradle and turned to face the man who was now only a few feet from her register. 001's laughter filtered softly through her mind; she hadn't even realized he had disappeared while she was on the phone with Eddie. But there were more people around now, and he didn't like sharing her attention.
"Can I help you, Mr. Carver?" Mads asked, trying not to sneer at the man.
"You can get right with God, for starters," he shot back with no attempts to hide his disdain and contempt for her.
"Lucky for me, we live in a free country with freedom of religion," she simpered, her pink lip gloss simmering over the innocent smile she gave him. "Satan would be ever so lonely without my company, don't you think?"
"Witch," he spat, watery blue eyes blazing with religious fervor.
Ever since Jason Carver, Chrissy's preppy little boyfriend told his parents about the apple incidents in the cafeteria last year, they had been none too pleased that Mads was attending Hawkins High. Much less working in town and cavorting with the Hellfire kids. They thought she would be better off miles away at Penhurst with the rest of the crazies, and away from the general public.
The whole story that Troy's mother spread about her after she rescued El's friends from him didn't help with those sentiments. Jason also felt the same way about her and her friends, taking every opportunity to try and knock them down a peg, or get them into trouble. The Carver family didn't care much for the Wilsons either, considering they owned the only motel in town. A place where people congregated for alleged debauched acts.
Mads thought they were idiots.
"Sure," she chuckled at his 'insult'. "What can I help you with?"
"I have something I called ahead to be put aside," he replied tightly.
"Oh, Jeffery will have that, he's in the back. I'll go and get it."
Mads relished at the way Mr. Carver physically cringed away from her long velveteen maxi skirt as she passed him, and at the way he flinched when her boot buckles jingled as she walked. What she wouldn't have given to use her abilities right then and scare the piss out of him.
Those pesky little NDAs and the presence of the DoE put a damper on engaging in that sort of fun, unfortunately.
"Jeff," Mads called, poking her head into the back. "Mr. Carver has an item on hold, you need to come ring him up."
"Aw, why?" Jeffrey whined, setting down the box of items he was bringing out to restock. "I hate that guy."
"Because he won't hand over his money if I touch it. If you do the transaction, he'll get out of our hair much faster."
Jeffery sighed but relented, grabbing Mr. Carver's item from the on-hold shelf. He was older than her with a mild appearance, brown hair, and pimple-marked cheeks. Mads liked working with Jeffry most of the time, mainly because he left her alone and didn't try to boss her around.
Jeffry set Mr. Carver up at a register far away from Mads'. Mr. Carver didn't look twice at her as he stormed from the shop, brown paper shopping bag under his arm.
Rolling her eyes, Mads returned to her register, then picked up the phone again to call Tris as Eddie had requested. It only took a few rings for her to pick up and the faint sound of music and arcade games filtered through the phone.
"Palace Arcade, this is Tris," came her friend's smokey, musical voice.
"It's me," Mads said.
"Thank fucking God," Tris exclaimed, uncaring of who might have been around her. "Keith has been driving me up a wall! Can you come over here and scare the piss out of him or something?"
"Sorry, no can do, I'm at Melvald's today, remember?"
"Dammit!"
Mads laughed. Tris had nothing nice to say about their manager, Keith, but then again, neither did Mads. He wanted a date with nearly anything with boobs, which made fending off his advances a fun time while they worked at the arcade. At least he didn't try to touch them, or – God forbid – sniff them like one of the other arcade employees before Tris broke his nose. Unwilling to get served with a sexual harassment lawsuit, the arcade owner fired that particular employee but gave Tris a warning not to threaten anyone else.
Mads, however, was incredibly persuasive when it came to creeps. No hands had to be thrown for her to get her point across, which was beneficial for Tris. Keith was annoying but harmless and it didn't take much to scare him off for a little while.
"Anyway, Eddie wanted me to make sure you weren't late again for the show tonight," Mads continued, watching as a man and what appeared to be his wife milled around the electronics from the corner of her eye.
A red-headed girl about El's age wandered not too far behind them.
"You know why he would want me to do that?" Mads pressed, wrapping the phone cord around her finger.
Mads could feel the tension radiating through the phone. She knew it had to do with whatever Tris and Eddie had going on; they couldn't communicate like people without her around. Idiots.
"Nope." Tris popped the 'p' sound at the end of the word. "No idea. He's probably being anal about the setlist again. The guys wanted to do more covers rather than our original stuff."
"Mhm," Mads hummed noncommittally.
Why would Eddie be mad at Tris about Grant and Jeff insisting on a different setlist? She said as much, but Tris evaded her again talking a mile a minute about the dress she had bought for tonight's performance. She ordered it from a catalog and everything.
"Anyway, Keith is giving me the evil eye… or maybe he's trying to make eyes at me," Tris chuckled into the phone. "Gotta go! See you tonight. I promise I won't be late again."
She hung up before Mads could get in a goodbye, leaving her feeling a little hollow. Mads blinked back an errant blurriness in her eyes and hung the phone back up, allowing her breath to exhale slowly through her nose.
The family who had been looking at the electronics had come up to her register holding a phone. Mads gave the girl and her mother a polite smile, but when she looked at the father a nasty chill ran up her spine. His eyes were blue, but they were murky with a cruelty she'd seen only in the Lab and on the streets with Kali and her crew.
Her smile died on her lips.
"Hello," she said, willing her voice not to shake. "Did you find everything okay?"
"We did," the man answered for his wife.
He attempted a smile, but it fell flat and Mads saw straight through it.
"Are you all new in town?" she asked, attempting to seem friendly as she rang up the telephone. "I've not seen you around before."
"Yeah, we are," the man replied cooly but offered nothing else.
Fine by her.
She told them their charge and he forked over the money, placing it on the countertop when Mads refused to take it from his hand. She wasn't about to touch him. Didn't want to see what was in that wicked mind of his. It had to be about as bad as 001's, she just knew it.
Her heart went out to the angry-looking redhead that followed them from the store. Mads felt as though she was angry about more than moving to a new city – perhaps even a new state.
"Hey, Princess," came a smooth voice to the right of her.
Mads jumped, looking up to see that same pair of startling blue eyes she had last seen beside her mailbox.
"California!" she blurted, slapping her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
"That's me," he chuckled softly, leaning his hip against the counter.
"What are you doing here?" Mads asked though the answer was obvious.
He was shopping. Why else would Billy Hargrove be at Melvald's?
"My dad insisted that if I wanted to get to know the town so bad, I should come with him and his wife on this little shopping trip," he replied, but there was a hardness to his voice that drew her attention.
Mads blinked, and then her gaze fell to the '77 Chrysler Newport the redheaded girl was getting into with her parents. She shot a panicked, but somewhat hardened look back towards the store before she got into the back seat. the girl was looking straight at Billy.
"Oh, that asshole is your dad?" The words blurted from Mads' lips once again, but this time, she didn't bother covering her mouth in embarrassment.
She wasn't embarrassed. She was simply observing.
Billy's posture changed, he stiffened somewhat imperceptibly to the untrained eye. But Mads saw it. She saw things most people didn't. Billy may appear relaxed to anyone else who happened to be in the store, but not to her.
The memory of her own body stiffening that way in the Lab when Papa entered the room – if his name was even mentioned – reminded her of how Billy was acting right now. His father, Mr. Hargrove, must be like Papa. Like Dr. Brenner.
"He say somethin' to you?" Billy asked, trying to sound casual.
"No, he was polite," Mads said, staring at the car for a moment longer before turning her gaze back to Billy. "I have a nose for men like him."
"Men like him?" Billy sounded somewhat angry now, defensive.
"Y'know, subtly domineering and controlling? I'd say he's some sort of security guard or a cop, but the police force is full up around here." Mads shrugged, ignoring his tone.
It was only natural to want to defend your parent, even if they did suck.
"He's a security guard at the bank…"
"Mhm, figures."
Billy's face kept changing the longer Mads looked at him. His micro-expressions and body language flowed between angry and genial, tense and calm, aggressive and open. It was hard not to compare him to herself, not to see the rage bottled up in there that so much resembled her own. It was easy to see why now. And there was something else there, something hot and blazing like anger, something she couldn't place.
The lingering question in the back of her mind, however: was Billy's anger the kind that would destroy him? Was it like hers? Or was it the kind that deflected outward and hurt others?
Mads wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question.
The car outside honked aggressively and Billy waved a hand in response. The action was jerky, almost desperate. Her heart went out to him, and for a half second, she found herself moving around the counter to give Mr. Hargrove what was coming to him but she paused.
Influencing Mr. Hargrove in front of witnesses was dangerous. Harming him was even more so. The government was always watching her, her family, and her friends. Whatever she was about to do would endanger them all.
So, she set her booted foot back on the ground, placing a manicured fist on her hip, and smiled up at Billy. He blinked in surprise, her rapid change in demeanor catching him off guard.
"My band and I've got a gig tonight at the Hideaway on Mulberry later, you should come," she said, her voice sugary sweet.
She didn't know what made her say it, but in that moment, she knew it was something that would piss off Mr. Hargrove. And she wanted to piss that man off. Mads didn't expect Billy to even agree to the invitation.
"Sure," he agreed, a smirk forming on the edge of his well-shaped mouth. "What time?"
"Oh… uh…" Mads hesitated, a flush darkening her cheeks. "Eight o'clockish. It depends on when everyone shows up. I dunno what kinds of music you're into, but we do some original stuff and covers of bands like Metallica, Black Sabbath, and Iron Maiden."
Billy leaned in closer, almost over the counter, fixing her in place with his blue gaze.
That same confusing flame returned to his expression. He looked… hungry.
"Sounds perfect," he purred, eyes heavy-lidded and inviting.
Mads swallowed, once again feeling flustered by this strange boy. "W-well, you should get going, it looks like your family wants to leave."
Billy looked back at the Newport and frowned before turning back to Mads.
"Save me a good spot, Princess," he said, brushing a knuckle gently across her jawbone.
Then he was gone.
And she had let him touch her.
Her heart was pounding a mile a minute, but not because his skin had grazed hers. It was because she wasn't repulsed that it had. Mads had only wanted to piss off Mr. Hargrove a bit, potentially. She didn't mean for that to happen! But it had, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.
Later that evening, Mads was setting up at the Hideaway with Eddie, Jeff, and Grant. It was nearing eight o'clock and Tris was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Billy Hargrove, but that didn't bother her so much. She knew Eddie would be on her ass for Tris being late, and with his shitty mood lately, she really didn't want to deal with that.
"I thought you said you would call her," Eddie hissed as they were getting situated for the soundcheck.
"I did call her," Mads snapped back, clutching her drumsticks in tightly balled fists. "She promised she wouldn't be late."
"If she's not here in the next five minutes—" he stared, his hand flexing around the neck of his Warlock.
"You're gonna what?" Mads bit out, stepping up to him, her eyes flashing dangerously.
She had to crane her neck to look up at him, but he didn't intimidate her. No matter how bad his mood was, Eddie was never mean or cruel. Fear was something she rarely felt around him, and he never, ever, made her afraid.
Eddie, however, took a step back, his mouth setting in a firm line. Then he turned away from Mads and began tuning his Warlock with stiff, angry movements. Grant looked over at her questioningly, but she could only offer a shrug in response. He smiled knowingly at her and began tuning his bass. Eddie was often driven by his emotions; his behavior hardly ever surprised the Hellfire boys.
He did have just cause to be angry though. This was the third time Tris had been late in a row, and Mads was beginning to feel more than a little irritated with her about it.
Just when she was about to head over to the pay phone at the front of the bar to call Tris at home, Jeff's jaw dropped open with an audible pop, causing Mads and the others to turn and look in the direction of his stare. Tris was finally sidling up to their setup. That in itself wasn't strange. What was strange, however, was that instead of her normal jeans and band t-shirt, she wore a sleeveless, slinky black dress that showed off more leg than it covered.
Mads whistled, sharp and high when Tris approached, eyeing her friend up and down.
"Do a turn," Mads demanded excitedly, miming the action with her hand.
Tris grinned sheepishly and complied, turning and holding her cello case out so Mads could see the full effect of the dress. While Tris was willowy, the material clung to her frame, extenuating every curve. Her regular accessories and boots accompanied the ensemble, but her signature leather jacket was missing leaving her tattoos and a lot of skin on display.
She looked stunning. The Hellfire boys thought so too since they couldn't close their mouths long enough to stop the figurative puddle of drool that was forming on the floor. And so did quite a few male patrons who eyed Tris appreciatively from their seats. Gross.
Eddie, who'd gone from pale to red-faced in a matter of minutes, set down his guitar, then shrugged off his jacket and vest, slinging them around Tris' shoulders without a word. The jacket was much too big for her, effectively obscuring most of the body her clinging dress showcased. She stood there, bemused for a moment before sliding her arms into the sleeves.
"Alright guys, we've got a show to do," Eddie snapped and finished tuning his Warlock.
The others quickly fell into position for the sound check, and soon after the show began. From her place at the back on the drums, Mads saw a curly-haired, blue-eyed boy slip in just as they began their first set. Smirking, she waited for her cue and began playing.
The first couple of sets went well until a drunken heckler tried to mess with the amps, then the instruments, then Tris and Mads. The latter quickly forced him from the makeshift stage with Eddie, who was practically shaking with rage.
"Hey," Mads said sharply, glaring at her friend. "Why don't you go outside and get some air."
Eddie's jaw and lips tightened at her words, but he nodded and stormed out of the bar. Billy was still watching from the back wall, not approaching her or interacting with anyone. There were younger people there too, not just creepy old drunks, but Billy paid none of them any mind. Not even the older girls who were eyeing him up and down. He only watched her with those flaming eyes of his. Grant and Jeff continued playing with Jeff vocalizing while Mads dragged Tris off to the little girl's room, ignoring Billy's smoldering gaze.
"Sooo," Mads drawled once the door shut behind them. "What's with the dress? And don't bullshit me, you hate dresses."
Tris closed her open mouth, likely filled with excuses. Then a dejected air washed over her and she hunched in on herself, clutching Eddie's jacket around her like a protective blanket.
"I-I… I wanted to look nice," she whispered, refusing to look Mads in the eye.
"You always look nice," Mads assured her, moving to pat her shoulder.
"No." Tris shook her head, causing her bleached hair to fall into her eyes, obscuring them from sight. "No, I wanted to look nice. I wanted Eddie to notice me."
Oh.
Oh.
"I think he noticed," Mads teased, holding back laughter.
"Not in the way I wanted… he got angry," Tris complained, her head falling into her hands.
"Because you're hot and other people noticed."
"Yeah right."
Finally, Mads allowed herself to laugh but kept herself restrained lest Tris think she was laughing at her. This stupid dance Eddie and Tris were doing around each other had gone far enough, and Mads wanted it to end. They either needed to tell each other how they felt, or they needed to get over themselves.
"Tris, Eddie noticed," Mads insisted, tugging Tris' hands away from her face. "In case you weren't aware, he's kind of an oblivious idiot. He's got his head way far up his own ass and you doing something like this yanked him back to reality."
"You think?" Tris asked, blushing slightly.
"Even without reading his mind, I'm like, one hundred percent certain."
"You really think so?"
Mads rolled her eyes and yanked Tris back outside toward the makeshift stage. Tris made to grab for her cello – an instrument Eddie had wanted to add experimentally to some of their original songs – but Mads stopped her, shaking her head.
"You play frontman this time," she said, pushing Tris toward the microphone.
"Seriously?" Tris exclaimed, stumbling slightly over her boots.
"You know this next one as well as Eddie does," Mads reassured her. "Go ahead."
With that, she directed Jeff to the acoustic guitar and stormed off to find Eddie. Someone had his head to get out of his ass, and she was going to be the one to facilitate that separation. By hell or high water.
Mads found Eddie outside smoking a cigarette. He had passed by that Hargrove kid on his way out, which only pissed him off more. Either he was a seedy person who liked this kind of place, or Mads had invited him. Eddie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting.
"Tris is heading this song," Mads said as she approached.
Every line in her body told him she was angry. She had every right to be, Eddie had been a dick lately. He still regretted snapping at her on the phone earlier, but he didn't know how to apologize. And Mads had been acting super weird, which he also didn't know how to deal with.
"Okay," he sighed and flicked his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his boot.
Mads grabbed his arm, her hands were cool in the warm summer night and practically dragged him back inside. From the corner of his eye, she saw her wave to the Hargrove kid and he followed them to the bar. Eddie was about to tell him off – or at least tell him to leave them alone – but when he turned to do so, he saw the delicate pink flush gracing Mads' cheekbones when she looked at the other boy.
Well fuck, she must like the sleazebag or something. That wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.
Shaking his head, he left them to their conversation, ignoring the infuriatingly flirtatious tone Hargrove was using on Mads that Eddie could hear even over the sound of Tris' alto crooning through the bar. Mads didn't seem to be interested in the tone but wasn't telling Hargrove to get lost either, which was very strange.
Eddie would have said something, done something, but Tris in that stupid dress kept distracting him. Every movement drew his eyes back to her body, and the sound of her voice felt like it was worming its way into his brain. He had heard her in practice, but she had never been this forceful, this passionate. It felt like she was singing directly to him.
He clenched his hand around his guitar pick. The one she had given him.
Tris had gotten what she wanted; he could hardly take his eyes off her now.
"Hey, Eddie, maybe stop being a dick and just appreciate the view," Mads snapped quietly so Hargrove couldn't overhear her, her foot tapping to the beat of the music. "I happen to think Tris looks fucking hot in that dress."
Eddie remained silent at her side, his eyes still smoldering. But what Mads didn't realize was that his eyes were not only simmering with anger but another, equally passionate and heady emotion. Something that had Tris' toes curling in her boots and her arms breaking out in gooseflesh despite the warmth of Eddie's jacket. Something she would have seen in Billy's eyes had she turned to see the way he was looking at her.
It was lust.
A/N:
I am SO pumped for this season of ST in fic form y'all don't even KNOW
Chapter title and summary taken from Pink Floyd's "Young Lust" released in 1979 on their studio album "The Wall".
Thank you for the reviews, encouragement, favorites, and follows. They mean the world to me. Please don't forget to comment your thoughts!
This is the "mixtape" I created for this fic. It's not entirely period accurate, but I feel like these songs fit the theme of the show and characters. playlist/2w0Fg6UPmVvj5L3EIMRYfw?si=d8e38810c96f4875
Please don't forget to check out my book ( /d/5cifBW6)!
