Chapter Text
“Well, this is as good as it’s gonna get.”
The monotone followed a rustling of papers. Fingers smoothed the edges and braced to post it on a board of sweeping flyers that was already full. A depressing light swung above, flickering with a buzz. Aimless. Feeling was mutual.
Phoenix Deloria suppressed a groan. This wasn’t supposed to be difficult. Just a contract so she could keep the roof she worked so hard to get in the first place. Being an adult was a bullshit scam. Amber-brown eyes scanned the pinned flyers.
Missing animals. Housework assistance needed. Club promotion. Babysitters. Lawn projects. Bands on bands on bands. Something with symbols that might have been code for hard drugs. Even a few fun drawings of naked women scribbled over. Barely.
Phoenix shifted to the left, away from the Color By Numbers peepshow toward the house-related stuff. Fumbling fingers pushed a pin into one corner then another. Sealing her fate. They said the first step of any journey was the most difficult.
“Running out of real estate up there,” a chipper voice quipped somewhere in space. Phoenix practically jumped into the wall and she would have climbed it if she could. Metal studs on the shoulders of her beaten leather jacket clacked the wood. “Whoa, sorry, oh-...Deloria? Hey.”
"Munson." Her deadpan was a signature thing about the town.
A nervous half-smile complete with dimples cocked that she remembered well from school. Eddie Munson, clad in his best denim layered combo. A burnout like her more on the nerdy, metal end of the lunch table. Former ruler of Hellfire.
Phoenix went lax. Teased layers of black hair fell over one eye and she instead stared at the fading band tee under his jacket. Metallica was today's flavor.
"Been a while since you haunted Hawkins High's theater department."
"I do miss ordering those dummy actors around but life goes on," Phoenix hummed, turning back to stab the last pin at the bottom of her paper to keep the thing from flying off every time a door nearby opened.
“Roommate wanted,” he read. “Must have cast a spell on the owner to get an apartment in the new buildings Kline built before he got…” Eddie made a hacking motion with a campy screech of a sound effect. Big, dopey grin plastered now as he waited for the applause. She didn’t break.
“Voorhees,” Phoenix observed, “you’re still funny, Munson.” Oh, so dry. She didn’t smile but her lip twitched which was more than anyone else got out of her. “Cheapest place I could find for the location. Saved up my first year after school. Prices tanked when we lost the mall so I swooped in. And maybe a spell got me the apartment but not the money to keep it going. Hence…”
“You posting a flyer in The Hideout of all places,” Eddie peered down the hallway. Wasn’t the most savory place to make friends or add to living arrangements. Phoenix seemed to read his brows lifting and puffed.
“They’re the first place to tell me yes,” she snipped, light brown eyes catching the lamp above and looking more honeyed, “besides my work.”
“Ah,” Eddie was unfolding a flyer from his pocket too. Deep eyes peering around before he tugged down a few band posters to put his own up. Front and center.
"Playing dirty, I like it," she had a low edge to her voice. Remembered the name of his band from high school. Corroded Coffin. Eddie admired his work with a head cock.
“Yeah. Might have better luck with my band this summer. We're trying to get extra gigs or...a crowd would be great. We do have a regular that gets drunk and throws peanuts at us so we eat well.” A palm slapped his stomach for effect but it growled noticeably. Her cheeks sucked in before she shot her eyes elsewhere.
Frankly, Eddie didn’t care if the band went nowhere on certain days, he loved his friends and this made him happy. Something pure there.
"Jeff has this girl that shows up to see him but he hasn't figured that out yet."
"Sweet."
"You're gonna pull creeps posting that here," he remarked and she shrugged.
"It's a pressing matter, I'm just exploring all my options," Phoenix turned her nose up.
Comically, the bathroom door swung open and an older gentleman let out a belch as he staggered by. The drunk noticed the board and perked.
“Looking for a roommate, baby?” Unsteady eyes flicked to the girl in all black there. Her intricate liner and purple lips. Ruffled layers of styled black hair to her shoulders. Wearing a giant turtle neck sweater dress and leather jacket on a summer evening which was strange. “Sorta scary looking but I’m not picky.”
Eddie saw a strange light flick in Phoenix's eyes. Maybe a spark.
“Oh? Yeah, totally,” she fake-gushed with brighter eyes before lowering back to the drone, “and if you call me baby again, I’ll fill your bed with man-eating wasps. How’s that?”
“Uh-”
“So sorry, the position had already been filled, buddy. You go on, I heard someone order a round for the house out there. Don’t miss out,” Eddie swung his arm behind Phoenix but didn’t touch. Head cocking. Still smiling brighter than a star.
Quick as light, the drunk was off hoping for a free drink. Phoenix deflated further as she turned back to make a face at the sign. Felt especially hopeless now.
“Thanks,” she flicked some fringe aside, the warm brown sheen of her skin shimmered high on her cheeks with the harsh lamp above them. “Too tired to deal with shitheads right now.”
“Well, I like to think of myself as a professional shithead wrangler. Think I could make a living. Beats the kitchen of grease I’m swimming in now,” Eddie paused to puff up, “when I’m not shredding that stage out there. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” Her colorless reply didn’t daunt him.
“Hear that I finally graduated? Be amazed. Shame I couldn’t share the stage with our class on time.”
“Oh, yes. We certainly mourned you.” Phoenix spied him with dark locks in her expression. "Not me. But, others. Obviously."
"Flipped the principal the bird," he peacocked about that, "tripped down the stairs after."
"You do love to make an impression."
"You get me," he gave a pensive sigh. Arms crossed. She winced again at her desperate attempt to keep her apartment and save some cash.
“So…” he lingered there, a line in his jaw twitched. “What’s the issue with the place?”
“Every night, a guy with knives for fingers tries to drag me to mandatory social functions and I hate people,” Phoenix had this scary, inscrutable quality when she spoke that sometimes turned people off because they couldn’t peek inside her. Couldn't see what made her tick. Even keeping her eyes lifeless. Eddie faked a gasp for her because he liked to play.
“He found your absolute worst nightmare.”
“Yeah, and I can only feed him other victims on my floor to keep him away for so long,” she frowned, a finger dragging down her cheek to mimic a single tear. The act dropped. “Really, the place is livable. My second job cut everyone’s hours which was a nice way of firing most of us.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is correct. Turbo flying shit,” Phoenix turned to him. A patched bag in green canvas swung as she cradled a Polaroid camera around her neck.
Briefly, Eddie wondered how long it took to do the intense eye makeup every morning. Somehow smoked and sharpened. Messy and clean cut. Fox-like. Made her eyes huge and menacing. Goths were goddam artists.
Something the metal heads and goths had in common also: looking scary and getting the blame for every little thing that went wrong with society. Course Eddie knew well enough that her being the only indigenous girl in their class after moving from the west got her more stares. More remarks. Fucking small towns.
Her head tilted at him, eyes flicking. A sudden movement that brought her to life. Eddie felt himself freeze as if she heard his pulse beating. Saw his heart quivering.
“Can I take your picture? Light behind you looks…almost transcendental.”
“Hope you get my good side,” Eddie shook out his hair, lips still upturned as he looked at her face right when she snapped without ceremony. “I wasn’t ready.”
“Natural is better." Fingers were already shaking the image out. A smirk taunted him. “See you around, Munson. Welcome to life after high school. Hope it doesn't suck.”
“Stay weird, Deloria.”
“Oh, my dear boy, that was the plan,” her hand lifted for a lazy wave as she went off. Scurrying around tables to continue her mission. Eddie cocked his head to peer at the flyer and debated it before swiping a tab down with her number on it. There were plenty left.
Couldn’t hurt. Right?
** ** **
Phoenix lined up interviews. Few creeps. Mostly normal, she hoped. There was no way she was chatting with them in her actual apartment yet, she hadn’t even put the full address on the flyer. That was grounds to be murdered because little, old Hawkins had gotten dangerous over the years. Missing people and fires and talk of satanic worship. Which really was a tired excuse for rich asshole to point fingers at the poor because who else could take the blame? Fun stuff.
The last call she got before the rounds was a surprise.
“Is this the Deloria residence?” A dorky snort followed.
“Speaking.”
“It’s Eddie.”
“Eddie, who?” Phoenix played dumb. Had a smoky way about her dry voice that made him relax. “I know lots of Eddies.”
“Your favorite Eddie now, of course,” he preened with some theatrics.
“Oh? Eddie Van Halen, I love your work,” she replied even flatter if that was possible.
“Pshh,” Eddie hitched a laugh, suppressing it. “I can’t even knock you for that one. Okay, your second favorite. Munson.”
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"C'mon. Deep, soulful eyes. I once tripped while giving a speech on a half-eaten sandwich while strutting the lunch tables and almost broke my wrist," he was snorting again and she snapped her fingers.
"Well, I remember the sandwich because it was mine. Ham and swiss."
"I gave you my whole bologna and cheddar after...and some pot as a sorry," Eddie defended himself.
"Bologna doesn't beat ham, Eddie, that's basic math."
"Yeah, I failed that class twice. You remember though!"
“Hmph,” she paused to ponder, “how’d you get my number?”
“It’s on the poster you left, Fi,” he chirped with some added pride. She made a sound, bristling.
“Remove Fi from the vocab and the poster wasn’t for social calls,” Phoenix shifted over on her beaten couch.
“I was just gonna ask you how the search is going? I get very curious and the satisfaction of knowing life’s mysteries sparks my lost sense of childhood wonder,” Eddie replied quicker, hoping she wouldn’t hang up. He’d had his share of failed calls with girls but he wouldn’t admit that. "Are you really going to crush little Eddie's wonder?"
"With pleasure, little Eddie. Your soul will be mine soon."
"Hm, I got chills at that," his pretty baritone gave a shiver.
“My roommate adventures being a highlight of your day is telling me something tragic, Eddie.” Phoenix seemed to be in the realm of entertained and decided to engage this.
“Fine. It’s…going,” she said slower, unsure. “Why?”
“Oh, so suspicious,” he reclined back, stretching the phone cord as he changed positions. Stupid TV in the living room was all static. “Dunno. Sorta thinking…”
“Yes?”
“Thinking of the finishing move I’d use on Sir Finger Knives to rescue you after rolling something good.”
“I’ve already used seduce and it’s very effective,” she got sultry which had him breaking.
“Cutting corners in my campaign? I don’t allow that.”
“Oh, you’ve been dead for weeks. It’s my campaign now.” Phoenix licked her lips, switching the phone to her other ear as she shifted. “Gonna give me the truth or maybe something in that direction?”
He tried to think quick because the truth was too sobering.
“Well, I just mean, maybe you want some back-up on these interviews,” Eddie drawled, “I’m sure you attracted some weirdos from my neck of the woods or worse. The Hideout isn’t the tastiest place in town.”
“While my taste is questionable, I am the weirdo, Eddie,” she said it so cool that he had to pause to make sure it was a joke. A snicker followed, low from his chest. Fingers tapped to feel the vibrations. “Are you…asking for an interview? Perhaps?”
“I’m just a concerned citizen,” he charmed, “sorta wanted to see my picture. You never showed me.”
“It turned out fine,” Phoenix felt her lips twitching, “the lights made you look all glowy actually. Like you were made of them.” There was a dreamy way about how she sounded that out that he’d remember after this.
“Flattery, I like it. I might even love it. See, we could meet up and I could sign it for you. The photo. Never know if it’ll be worth something one day,” Eddie jumped around the question he wanted to ask. Phoenix pondered, eyes on a lava lamp. The neon goo swaying up and down above her buzzing TV. “Hideout gives me free cranberry juice and sodas, I can treat you.”
“Well, I did set up the interviews there,” she made a show like she was contemplating with a lengthy hum. “Fine. You play guard dog and help ward the creeps and drunks off me so I can knock these out quickly. No photo though.”
“Our combined dark powers of dread will vanquish any foe.”
“You are such a nerd, Munson,” Phoenix confessed, fond about it. She felt her smile spread and caught it as if he could see. As if he was draped on the other side of the couch chatting softly with her.
“You seem shocked now. We interacted plenty and I ran Hellfire to the very end.”
“High school is a different time. We’re all packed into labeled boxes,” she blew a strand of hair aside.
“What did mine say? Scary cult leader? Freak? I get that often,” he pushed up to glance down the hallway. At the crack in the ceiling. Dark and water damaged. Patched by his uncle but it needed to be redone. Right where he left Chrissy before running. Always running. Shuddering, Eddie went to close his door. Eyes shutting. Time seemed to still on edge before-
“You alright?” Phoenix asked after the odd beat upon hearing his exhale wobble. Eddie perked, lips open to explain but the sound didn’t come. “I only meant…the gossip. I get it too. What people used to say about us in high school. It’s usually wrong. Maybe always wrong for weirdos like us. Been out two years and they still think I’m some evil witch freak despite me not exactly practicing, I just explore, or they think...something that's a slur. I sorta just let them at this point. Scary privilege. Keeps people away.”
“Almost an easy defense at times,” he decided, sounding more grounded in reality than he liked.
“Yeah, so maybe you have a point,” Phoenix mused, “joining forces. I worked hard for this place and I am not losing it. Not going back home.”
Eddie suppressed the obvious, curious question at that since he was ahead. Opting to fiddle with one of his rings before he jotted the time and date to meet Phoenix. He even made an extra attempt at being a gentleman.
“Did you want a ride or something?” He cursed himself because it came out garbled, head tipping to bang a wall once comically. “A ride in my van, I mean.”
“No, the bus-”
“It’s like a million stops, don’t be polite. You can turn up the music if you find me annoying. Promise that I won’t be offended,” he proclaimed. Chipper as can be still.
Phoenix laughed a fuller sound, muffling when she covered her lips. He hadn't heard the sound before but he liked it. It was the only sweet way Eddie liked to break her.
“Fine. A ride or something,” she repeated the full address just in case with the apartment number. Heard the scribbling on the other end. Eddie stuck out his tongue to write, squinting. “Maybe I’ll get the truth from you.”
“Truth, what?”
“Don’t be late, Edward,” she quipped before hanging up.
Eddie heard the dial tone and thought to smash the phone over his head in embarrassment. Reading her was harder over electrical lines. On the other end, Phoenix shook her head. Amused as she rose to cross into her bedroom.
Their circles in high school sometimes crossed but they weren’t exactly friends. Just aware of each other. Eddie’s presence cast a long shadow either way. Phoenix usually took to hiding in them.
A fan spun above as she flicked the light. Full bookcases lined up and a vanity spilling over with makeup and jewelry. She never faced the mirror when she changed but sneaking a peek was inevitable after removing her layers to pluck up a big nightshirt.
Just a small peek. Just to see even though it wouldn’t ever change. A deep breath pulled. She braced every time despite it being years.
Dark eyes flashed over her shoulder. Caught the body there as her bra dropped away. The skin static as ever.
Burns. Thick and twisted. Bubbling flesh. Sunken around the contour of her shoulder blade. An angrier splotching of colors. Some pigment gone and some darkened. An ocean of scarring that covered the left side of her back to her hip. Crawling barely over the ribs. Inching up the back of her neck toward the fraying hairline and well over her left shoulder.
It twitched when it was seen like it was startled. Aching some days. Wailing others. The nerves being pulled the same as a puppet’s strings. Made her name a fucking punchline, that was for damn sure. Her dad just had to be a mythical creature nut in his younger years.
A frown lined her expression.
Those curious eyes shut and she pulled on her shirt. Heart hammering. Trying to rest. Trying to not make a sound or vibrate her veins in alarm bells. Trying to wish away dreams of smoke and charred wood that split like bone. Dreams of strange red lightning slicing mercilessly through dark clouds of a coming storm.
Fingers fumbled to pull on some big headphones before music pumped up to chase everything away.