overactive-sweat-glands

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie was only short by an inch or two, a barely noticeable difference. But there were always arguments about that. Thankfully, not right now. That would certainly make the moment worse if it was brought up.

He knew he should take a breath, calm down. Take Paul’s suggestion even, to go to the kitchen. Seperate himself from the moment. Because that’s what it is, just a damn moment. They’ll eventually cool down and not fight, of course. Forgive and forget. Whatever other crap they do. But it’s just. Moment that’ll eventually pass. That’ll eventually go on and be forgotten. Some petty fight he’d hope to laugh about later.

His gaze turned to Paul, momentarily. Focusing on his uncle. Maybe that’ll help him calm down. Because he could never get angry at him. Not like this. And the suggestion sounded good. “..Yeah. Yeah, that—“ He doesn’t manage out much more then that before Pete shoved him. Hard. It had him stumbling, catching himself back in the corner of the room and catching himself on the wall. It’s the proper straw that finally had Richie’s brain snap into something more familiar.

Fight or Flight.

But, he’s not up against Max Jägerman or someone twice his weight, that Pete seemed like someone he could fight. Or that the stress of exams have just ruled out the option of flight all together.

His body tensed, before he’s swivelling suddenly back to Pete. Tears pricked at his eyes, making his way back and shoving the other in return. Hard. Rough. Intentionally to try and push the man over. Or, as hard as Richie could push. He’s not notoriously known for strength. “I hate you, Pete! I fucking hate you!” He screeched.

@theguywhodoesntlikemusicals

Pete hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just inches from the door as he took one final glance at the address he was sent to make sure he was in the right place. Usually, he and Richie would hit the library to study for their upcoming exams, but today was different as they’d agreed to meet here instead. He didn't exactly like the location and whole routine of studying changing but he got over it. Pete takes a steadying breath before he finally knocked on the door.

- @bunsen-burnout

@bunsen-burnout @overactive-sweat-glands

Paul was surprised to admit to himself that he was actually a little nervous. He may not have cared about what Pete himself thought of him, but what he did care about was Richie's wellbeing and happiness. While he didn't want to interfere with that and was sure Richie didn't need his help with Pete, he didn't want to embarrass his nephew... When Richie said okay to his offer to let he and his friends study at Paul's apartment while Richie was staying over, he was a little surprised, but happy to oblige.

Paul answered the door, looking the way he always did, shirt and tie smart, though since it was the weekend he wore a dark blue cardigan over his shirt rather than a suit jacket. "Hey, Pete," Paul greeted, resisting the urge to react or comment to how much older Pete looked to when he last saw the kid. Ted mentioned his little brother often - mostly 'nerdy little brother' this or 'little nerd' that. But Paul remembered the few occasions he had seen Pete while babysitting Richie that he seemed like a polite but fun little kid. "Come in. Richie is just getting set up in the living room."

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie was feeling the opposite, however. He was fascinated and excited at the new environment, even if he doesn’t get to explore much of it. He wondered how long they’d even be there. He was told to get his belongings, when his dad was talking to Paul. He had enough food for lunch, whenever that would roll around. Would that be enough? Or would he get Paul’s food to eat, so he could have that as dinner? How long do people in offices work for? Was it much different to his dad’s? Guess he’ll find out soon..

“Is she dead now? Dad only uses that word like that when someone’s dead or gone.” He questioned, his legs kicking lightly when his shoes were off. He’s excited at the prospect of meeting some of Paul’s friends. Also, a picnic sounded nice. He’s just hungry, however. His hands raised and clasped together, forming into a finger gun. He pointed at Paul. “Yeah, we’re playing spies. Sneaky spies.” His wrists flick, as if shooting his uncle, before his hands let go and moved to idly rest on the seat as his legs kicked idly. “What do you even do? Do you do boring paperwork? Do they at least let you draw?” His head tilt slightly at Paul. “Can you draw or are you boring?”

He gave an immediate groan at the thought of having to wait to eat, body going suddenly loose and slumping on the seat. He began to half-lean off the seat dramatically. “No!” He whined, arms slowly crossing. He would’ve been fine with the help to get his large coat off, if he wasn’t being moody. So, he squirmed and tried to resist Paul’s attempt that was trying to help. “I’m hungry!” His voice raised in volume.

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie would love nothing more then for everyone to shut up, or to just eat. Food in important! But instead, annoyance bubbles up worse in his stomach. Stabbing at the sides of it and making his brain react poorly.

“I just want—“ He’s cutting himself off, gaze turning slowly towards Pete. He’s giving a deadpan glare.

“The hell does that mean? As— As usual?” He questioned, slowly going to stand. He takes his steps towards Pete, staring at him still. His mind is now reeling to even find examples of what the other meant, but it only hurt his brain more trying to do something extra. He grimaced, just shaking his head instead.

Rather, a hand absently goes to push at Pete’s chest.

“I still think he took that toy.” He mumbled, looking over to Paul. “The events lined up and his story was flimsy. And he managed to find it in our shared searches. I just— I don’t know!” His hands are dramatically thrown in the air, slightly clipping Pete’s shoulder in the progress.

@theguywhodoesntlikemusicals

Pete hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just inches from the door as he took one final glance at the address he was sent to make sure he was in the right place. Usually, he and Richie would hit the library to study for their upcoming exams, but today was different as they’d agreed to meet here instead. He didn't exactly like the location and whole routine of studying changing but he got over it. Pete takes a steadying breath before he finally knocked on the door.

- @bunsen-burnout

@bunsen-burnout @overactive-sweat-glands

Paul was surprised to admit to himself that he was actually a little nervous. He may not have cared about what Pete himself thought of him, but what he did care about was Richie's wellbeing and happiness. While he didn't want to interfere with that and was sure Richie didn't need his help with Pete, he didn't want to embarrass his nephew... When Richie said okay to his offer to let he and his friends study at Paul's apartment while Richie was staying over, he was a little surprised, but happy to oblige.

Paul answered the door, looking the way he always did, shirt and tie smart, though since it was the weekend he wore a dark blue cardigan over his shirt rather than a suit jacket. "Hey, Pete," Paul greeted, resisting the urge to react or comment to how much older Pete looked to when he last saw the kid. Ted mentioned his little brother often - mostly 'nerdy little brother' this or 'little nerd' that. But Paul remembered the few occasions he had seen Pete while babysitting Richie that he seemed like a polite but fun little kid. "Come in. Richie is just getting set up in the living room."

[overactive-sweat-glands]

what do you think of your uncle's coworkers?

The ones at CCRP? I don’t want to talk about any of the weirder uncles. Please. I used to go to that place often after school, when I was younger. So I knew them okay-ish before I outgrew the place.

Charlotte — She taught me how to crotchet and how to sew, when I saw her one of those cat sweaters she owns, one day! They’re actually pretty cool. She’s also amazing for office gossip, she’s got good hearing.

Ted — Younger me had a grudge against him??? I’m not fond of him now, but better than when I was younger. When I was young, I tried to get him fired on multiple occasions. I tried to write bad notes and write it was from Ted… Jesus, I think Paul told me once I went to Mr. Davisson’s office and asked for him to be removed from CCRP. I don’t.. I don’t know why.

Melissa — Oh, I thought she was so cool when I was younger! Maybe because she was younger than the rest. She was like a big sister to me, or I at least felt that way. She used to let me ride in her little cart where she put paperwork and occasional supplies, then drive me around! I wonder how she’s doing now.

Bill — He’s a nice guy. I think he brought in his kid once or twice for work, maybe babysat younger me a few times too. I only really know more about him from Paul and the way they interact. He’s really sweet. He’s got good advice, if you sit and listen to a few stories that mean nothing.

Mr. Davidson (Does he even have a first name?) — I didn’t interact with him much. Sorry. He gave me lemon-drop candies whenever he saw me and ruffled my hair. So, that was cool. I liked him.

[overactive-sweat-glands]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[She seems nice.]

[She IS nice. Mostly.]

[After Pete got beat up by Jägerman a while back, she had come looking for him and she threatened me to find him.]

[Okay she just demanded. Threatening sounded like I got beaten up.]

[But she used to hang out with Jägerman before hanging with us. It makes me nervous.]

[Shes cool and all, but what if I’m saying my cool words and she’s using them back to Jägerman and bullying me behind my back??? I do NOT need that!!!! I’d rather she’d be upfront with it.]

Text from Paul:

[Hey Richie. Fourth of July Fireworks tonight. Did you remember your headphones?]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[Paul!!!!!!!!]

[Yes.]

[Im going to try n go without. See if ive gotten better w it. But have them nearvy.]

[r u prepared?]

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Now being freed from being completely under the hoodie and set on the ground, he’s moving to glance around. He’s never seen an office this cool. He’s maybe seen his dad’s a few times, but never with other people nearby! It’s like a house! His hands let go of his backpack to beside the desk.

Richie moved his way to Paul’s chair first, getting and sitting on it. His first course of action was to take his shoes off, then glance at his uncle. “Who did you talk to? Can I meet her? Is she nice?” And, here’s the millions of questions a kid tended to ask. “What does she look like? Is there a photo? Can I see some of your other work friends? Are you friends? What’s a morning meeting? What do you do here? Can I work here? Can I have your tie?” A hand is idly holding one of his shoes, before he’s randomly dropping it.

His hands go to fidget with the coat. He hated it. He’s too hot in it.

“Is it lunch time yet? I’m hungry.” He grumbled.

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie was thoroughly unhappy only a few seconds under the coat. He forgot how heat could build when it can’t be ventilated out. He squirmed easily in Paul’s arms. He could feel the sweat building up as well, the way it was getting his clothes to stick to his body. He hated it.

He could hear voices, or at least one talking to Paul. His hands stayed clung onto his uncle as he merely listened. He wondered if they were friends. Or if Paul hated them. Could Paul even hate? Is that a thing he could do? He couldn’t tell. He wanted to meet them, but knew he didn’t want Paul put in time out.

So what did he do?

Opted to lightly kick Paul instead.

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[I don’t exactly disclose most of my uncles to people.]

[But!!!!1!!1!11!]

[I just dont want her to detain me or smth if I say smth wrong in her eyes. Or she'll cancel me online??? Mybe??]

[She intimidates me.]

[and I dont know if I cn be friends w/ her if she freks me out]

Text from Paul:

[Hey Richie. Fourth of July Fireworks tonight. Did you remember your headphones?]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[Paul!!!!!!!!]

[Yes.]

[Im going to try n go without. See if ive gotten better w it. But have them nearvy.]

[r u prepared?]

[overactive-sweat-glands]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[No becase she’s a girl and she might think I’m hitting on her if I ask her to sit w/ us. Without consulting Pete. Or smth. Besides!!!! She’s the Mayor’s daughter!!!!!]

[The guy who RUNS this town, Paul?3???????]

[and if I invie her for Pete they’ll still get shy and lovely and whateva couples do that are embarrassig. I do NOT need to third wheel!!]

[he just needs assk her out and do sometng!!! Getting annoyed!!]

Text from Paul:

[Hey Richie. Fourth of July Fireworks tonight. Did you remember your headphones?]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[Paul!!!!!!!!]

[Yes.]

[Im going to try n go without. See if ive gotten better w it. But have them nearvy.]

[r u prepared?]

[overactive-sweat-glands]

"Of course i want help. Why wouldn't I want help? I wouldn't of invited you over if I wanted to do this without someone! Or to hang out with you. Because I haven't seen you for weeks, man!" Richie prickly replied to Pete.

His head turned briefly back to Paul, posture growing more relaxed momentarily. He really did appreciate his uncle. God, he was so hungry. His head was all over the place. A snack would do him well and he can calm down, get back to studying and-- Richie's attention snapped back to Pete, or moreso the papers making a small thwack against the table. It reminds him of his mood, about each of the details in the room. That his clothes were bothering him, he could see his nose out the edge of his vision.. Jesus, he had so many things due and he still had to study! And he's sitting here, wanting a snack? Hunger could wait, right? Oh, no, it shouldn't--

His head's thrown in an uncomfortable loop, unintentionally worsened and set on the path of destruction from the papers.

It doesn't help with Pete's insistence against eating as well. Or, not joining in. So Richie felt like he couldn't have it, without them trying it first. He knew it wasn't anyone's fault, just an odd quirk he's picked up, but in the moment it was frustrating.

"Just--" He began, before his hands immediately swiped at the papers and pushing them to the ground. Richie's pushing himself to step closer to Pete. "Your fucking-- Fucking useless Pete!" He exclaimed, out of breath, before he's pacing and moving to the other side of the room. He's moving to sit in the corner, just moving his hands to his sweaty hair. Fuck, his sweaty and greasy hair. He needed another shower, even if he had one earlier today..

Sure, Richie could've left the room to regulate a bit better. But, admittedly, his mind's in a loop and felt like he shouldn't leave.

@theguywhodoesntlikemusicals

Pete hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just inches from the door as he took one final glance at the address he was sent to make sure he was in the right place. Usually, he and Richie would hit the library to study for their upcoming exams, but today was different as they’d agreed to meet here instead. He didn't exactly like the location and whole routine of studying changing but he got over it. Pete takes a steadying breath before he finally knocked on the door.

- @bunsen-burnout

@bunsen-burnout @overactive-sweat-glands

Paul was surprised to admit to himself that he was actually a little nervous. He may not have cared about what Pete himself thought of him, but what he did care about was Richie's wellbeing and happiness. While he didn't want to interfere with that and was sure Richie didn't need his help with Pete, he didn't want to embarrass his nephew... When Richie said okay to his offer to let he and his friends study at Paul's apartment while Richie was staying over, he was a little surprised, but happy to oblige.

Paul answered the door, looking the way he always did, shirt and tie smart, though since it was the weekend he wore a dark blue cardigan over his shirt rather than a suit jacket. "Hey, Pete," Paul greeted, resisting the urge to react or comment to how much older Pete looked to when he last saw the kid. Ted mentioned his little brother often - mostly 'nerdy little brother' this or 'little nerd' that. But Paul remembered the few occasions he had seen Pete while babysitting Richie that he seemed like a polite but fun little kid. "Come in. Richie is just getting set up in the living room."

[overactive-sweat-glands]

There’s a pout at the mention of a lack of money for food. “Don’t get in timeout, please.” Who else will spoil him with ice-cream and treat him to small pouches of candies?

He held up his arms the best he could, before easily picked up by his uncle. He always liked being picked up, he liked being tall. It was cool to see the world a bit higher than what he’s used to. He clung onto his uncle, trying to make himself look as small as possible. His hands felt a bit clammy and sweaty already. Gross.

“I can be quiet.”

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie's eyebrows furrowed, thinking. At least, thinking for as much as little guy could. He didn't understand why Paul would do such a dangerous thing, or the worst thing someone could do. So, it couldn't even be that bad. Right?.. Well, he's going to assume the least and trust his uncle.

"You'll be in trouble. Like timeout." He commented. Timeout wasn't bad. His own dad eventually caved after an hour, with Richie tucked away in his room. Timeout isn't even awful, he just sits in his room doing whatever. He quite like timeout, on whatever rare occasion he ended up being sent to such a thing. Again, it didn't sound bad to Richie. Besides, he liked games.

His hand shuffled to adjust the long jacket on him, giving a little annoyed sound. He feels too hot. He didn't like this jacket. But he didn't bother taking it off.

"I'm okay at hide and seek." He mumbled, bringing up the jacket hood to try and look.. Or, well, hide away. It just sort of flopped onto his face and blinded him. Too big of a hood for him. But it did hide his face! Technically! "Can you pick me up and put me in a hiding spot?"

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Elevator doors open up onto the hallway toward the CCRP technical department, and a young, newly hired twenty-something year old Paul peers out. He holds his hands suspiciously behind his back, as if keeping something in place behind him. Seeing no one waiting in the hallway, Paul sighs quietly in relief and takes the hand of the small child behind him, quickly stepping out of the elevator before kneeling down in front of his nephew.

"You ready kiddo?" Paul whispered with a small smile, desperate to hide his anxiety. Last minute childcare responsibilities and trying not to get fired are not a good mix. "I know this morning was stressful with your dad getting called out last minute. But now we're playing spies, remember? Your mission is to go undetected for as long as you can. You have your books and your gameboy with the sound off?"

Young Richie has calmed down significantly, compared to the morning rush and switch-up of plans. But the evidence of a rushed morning and remnants of a tantrum were present on him. His shoes were two different colours, with one being blue and the other red. He wore multiple layers of clothing, with the largest and warmest being a snow jacket his father owned. Which, was evident by how long and large it hung off Richie. In one of his small hands, he held his bag by a strap and let it drag on the floor. Thankfully it was closed. Pets of his hair stubbornly stuck up.

His other hand held onto his Uncle’s, the best he could. His hand was so much smaller and sort of ended up clutching onto some of Paul’s fingers.

Richie blinked at his uncle, before he’s nodding. “In bag.” He mumbled, proving his point by holding up his bag strap and slightly tugging on said bag. “..What happens if I get found?”

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie did his best to keep his distance from the stranger. He tried to keep his body neutral, but he was not being subtle. Can other teenagers kidnap teenagers? Is that a thing? He wasn’t sure. He would hope not. “..That’s such a weak excuse to kidnap me.” He mumbled. Are all kidnappers stupid?

His legs picked up his pace.

“He wouldn’t pull me out of class early, and I don’t— I don’t exactly live with him. I still have a dad. If you’re planning to kill me or something, could you at least be honest?”

Richie was in the middle of class, sitting in the very back like he always did. He was about to start writing in his school notebook, before he heard Miss Mulberry call his name.

"Richard Lipschitz, you're gonna be sent home early," she said, as a teenager, someone around his age, leaned against the doorway. It seemed like whoever they were was the one who was getting him out of school. But why?

- @the-curious-adventurer

Was this legal to do?

Richie glanced over at the doorway. Who even was that? He didn’t know them. Something vaguely recalling stranger danger screamed in the back of his head, as he slowly gathered his equipment. He wasn’t sure what was going on here.

Stepping out of the classroom, he couldn’t help but give the person a side-eye.

[overactive-sweat-glands]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[He bettr figure it out soon or else!!!!1 I’m getting sick of him toeing around with her!!!! And if she’s going to join the friend group or not!!!!1!1!]

[also u got me. I was actully coughing. Spit got stuck in my throat ):]

[But I will be reading and watching YouTube and also editing. All the thngs tonigjht!!]

Text from Paul:

[Hey Richie. Fourth of July Fireworks tonight. Did you remember your headphones?]

New messages from [Richie 🇯🇵]

[Paul!!!!!!!!]

[Yes.]

[Im going to try n go without. See if ive gotten better w it. But have them nearvy.]

[r u prepared?]

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Richie was in the middle of class, sitting in the very back like he always did. He was about to start writing in his school notebook, before he heard Miss Mulberry call his name.

"Richard Lipschitz, you're gonna be sent home early," she said, as a teenager, someone around his age, leaned against the doorway. It seemed like whoever they were was the one who was getting him out of school. But why?

- @the-curious-adventurer

Was this legal to do?

Richie glanced over at the doorway. Who even was that? He didn’t know them. Something vaguely recalling stranger danger screamed in the back of his head, as he slowly gathered his equipment. He wasn’t sure what was going on here.

Stepping out of the classroom, he couldn’t help but give the person a side-eye.

[overactive-sweat-glands]

Good call, Richie was bound to fall asleep at any moment.

“I feel spoiled at that.” He responded quietly. “If I haven’t said it already, you’re my favourite relative.” He insisted. Which, the statement was true. Even if it wasn’t too much of a competition between his relatives or general family. His mother and Paul would be the only two he actually liked or would tolerate once he’s moved out of home. If he ever does. That’ll still be a while.

Richie gave a light shrug. “He tells me a lot of things. But— I- Uh, yeah. I did.” He felt like he shouldn’t have said that, with the way Paul had to ask. Was that rude? He thought it’d be a compliment. But, as he thought about it, it’d be like using Nerd as a compliment. Which, statistically, is impossible. Who would use that in a positive light? “..I didn’t actually know that, honestly. The part about you or community college as a whole. That’s so cool.” It sounded like an option with much less pressure, might be a good alternative to studying but not going to some prestigious college for law.

His eyebrows slowly raised at Paul.

“What’s it like?” He wasn’t judging his uncle. Really, he found it interesting. Not that he was dying to try it out for himself, maybe once he was able to find someone to score a smidge from. “I can’t get any. Not that— Not that I want to. But I’m not exactly part of the smoke club at school and I don’t know anything about that. So.” He shrugged. “And if your woman does get the pot farm, will she sell the product?”

Shuffling up to the door, Richie adjusted a sleeve with a hand. His shoulder rolled, keeping a small duffle bag’s strap on. He’s brought a few items over, that’s what the bag was for. He’s greasy and sweaty, the typical for the young man. His hair’s sticking up more today, losing the battle to try and tame it.

A hand raised, going to knock at Paul’s front door. He then wiped the hand against a pant leg, to rid of the sweat.

— [ @overactive-sweat-glands ]

The door was quickly answered as Paul hurried to the door, not wanting to keep his nephew waiting. How long had it been since he last looked after him? Not babysat, Paul reminded himself. Richie was far too old for that now. But since his dad was going away on business for a few days, he didn't want Richie on his own for that long. While Paul was fairly sure that Richie was a smart kid who could take care of himself, he wouldn't want him to be forced into doing so. Paul wouldn't have wanted him alone for that long either way, and he was happy to have him stay. Especially considering what Ted told him about what his own little brother was dealing with at that school...

His thoughts aside, Paul quickly opened the door and smiled at the teen.

"Hi, Richie!" Paul smiled, doing his best cool relative voice, while also not sound pedantic. It was a delicate balancing act, and honestly didn't change too much from normal. But there weren't many people he put in such effort with. "Come in and set your stuff down. Ready to have some fun?"