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bandhyukoh · 2 years

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[Hypebeast] Essentials: Oh Hyuk

Disclaimer: This interview belongs to Hypebeast. November 26, 2022. By Yonghwan Choi. (Original Korean version)

For our latest installment of Essentials, Hypebeast Korea speaks with South Korean multi-hyphenate artist Oh Hyuk. As the leader, singer, and guitarist of the indie band HYUKOH, he has had a tremendous impact both locally and globally through cross-boundary collaborations with various artists and individual projects. Oh Hyuk is also a member of 다다DADA多多, a creative collective and label that has been developing a variety of playful collaborations across apparel and F&B. Inaugurated into HB100 back in 2017 as an individual artist, he appears in Hypebeast 100 once again this year as a member of 다다DADA多多.

Behind Oh Hyuk’s multifaceted career is an intriguing personal history. He was born in Korea and grew up in China where he graduated from an international school, making him trilingual in Korean, Chinese and English. He then entered the Department of Arts at Hongik University, the most prestigious school for arts in South Korea while working retail at Vans.

Oh Hyuk decided to become a singer at an early age but his parents were against his dream. In an effort to convince them, he auditioned for the most prominent music agencies in South Korea and got accepted by them all, but ultimately declined them all due to creative differences — going on to form his own band. Having shown a keen sense of fashion in many different ways, he eventually captured the attention of the iconic designer, Virgil Abloh, leading to a number of collaborations.

Join us below as the 29-year-old multi-hyphenate runs us through his picks including special collaborations, personal collectibles, and musical equipment. Items such as shoes signed by Abloh and custom Matthias amplifiers show Oh Hyuk as an individual and reflect his experiences as the frontman of HYUKOH and a member of 다다DADA多多.

Maison Martin Margiela “0,10” Artisanal Military Field Jacket Tanker

This is my favorite jacket. It’s an artisanal Maison Martin Margiela piece from the early 2000s based on military field jackets. I bought it about 5 or 6 years ago at a famous Japanese vintage clothing shop called LAILA TOKIO. I carry the jacket with me whenever I travel and I’ve worn it so much that one of the four signature stitches under the neckline on the back has worn out, but I like it as it is now.

Shin Murayama x HYUKOH Face Mask

This is the work of Shin Murayama, a Tokyo-born mask designer based in New York who has collaborated with many famous artists such as A$AP Rocky and Kendrick Lamar. We worked together several times, and this mask is the first one we made together. Knowing that I like Polo, he reconstructed a Polo vintage cap into a signature mask. There are four versions for each member of HYUKOH. The design is very unique so I mostly wear it for performances or photo shoots. We worked with him again later on the outfits for through love in which Shin Murayama, Virgil Abloh, and HYUKOH worked together.

Off-White Out of Office Sneakers Signed by Virgil Abloh

The first time I met Virgil was at Coachella in 2019. I was introduced to him at the site and he contacted me later. From then on, we started working on several projects together. I remember when our EP was released, he shouted us out. We made music for the Louis Vuitton SS21 show in Shanghai and he made the costumes for our online world tour. Each project was released at a different time, but they were carried out almost simultaneously. He also gave me special gifts, and this is one of them. I heard the news of his passing while we were working on so many things together, so I was incredibly shocked and upset of the news.

Apple AirPods Max, AirPods Pro, Teenage Engineering M–1 Headphones

I usually use AirPods Max, AirPods Pro, and Teenage Engineering‘s M-1 Personal Monitor Headphones to test and monitor my music in various conditions. With popular noise-canceling headphones and earphones, I can check my music from the perspective of ordinary listeners. With headphones from a completely different style, I’m able to check the overall volume. It all becomes a reference when adjusting the sound. The AirPods Max in particular was a gift from former Apple designer Eugene Whang, a Korean American industrial designer who played a key role in designing the AirPods Max.

Teenage Engineering Silver TX-6 Field Mixer, Cables

This little mixer is another Teenage Engineering device I use. I purchased it because I was trying to make my work environment more simple and partially because it looked so cute. Considering the size, the spec is quite impressive. You can use it as an audio interface for recordings, and every function from faders, effects to EQs is available. It also supports up to 6 channels of stereo and 12 channels of mono. It hasn’t been that long since I bought it, so I’m still studying how to use it well. I also always bring a Porter bag full of cables because I often work outside. All the cables are Teenage Engineering products too.

Apple iPad Pro

I carry an iPad instead of a laptop as a way of simplifying my work environment these days. Since the introduction of the M1 processor, the iPad is enough for most of my music works. I can do MIDI work without difficulty and even sample-based work is more intuitive and easier because it’s touch-based. I mainly use three programs: Cubase, Pro Tools, and Ableton.

Tom Sachs MacBook Bag

As I do design work at 다다DADA多多, I study a lot about fabrics and materials. While researching, I discovered a fabric called Dyneema which is flame-retardant, waterproof and used for ballistic armor and fishing line. Soon I found a bag made of Dyneema on the Tom Sachs website and purchased it. These days I only bring my iPad, mixer, and headphones, and they all fit compactly in this one bag, so I carry it around often.

Busan International Film Festival ID Card

I served as a music director for a feature film titled The Dream Songs this year. DQM, who was the cinematographer and a friend of mine, introduced me to the director. As this was my first music directing experience, I had great fun and excitement. Since I am a fan of Johnny Greenwood, a guitarist of Radiohead and film music composer and have always been a film lover, I used to think ‘this kind of music could be good in this scene’ while watching movies. I was quite proud that I could make scores for the first time and was invited to the Busan International Film Festival as a music director. I want to do it more in the future.

Sacred Card Holder, CLAUSTRUM Ashtray

It may be difficult to identify at first glance, but these are a card wallet and an ashtray. I bought the ashtray from a shop called Eliminator in Daikanyama, Tokyo. I first visited there about six years ago. The owner is so cool and her items are unique, so we talked a lot and got to know each other. Since then, it has become a regular place I visit whenever I go to Japan. The first thing I purchased there was the ashtray.

This compact metal wallet is from a brand called Sacred, which mainly makes utility items. The first time I saw it was at Kyobo Bookstore, Korea’s largest bookstore chain, and I decided to purchase it because I thought it would be great to pair it together with the ashtray which features a similar design.

Dunlop Picks, Self-made Pick Holder

The metal pick holder was made by me and a close friend of mine 10 years ago while I was a college student. I was going to buy a pick holder at the time, but the available ones were all made from plastic and I didn’t like them. I wanted a weightier metal case that fits in my hand. My close friend was majoring in sculpture, so I designed it and asked him to make it. A lump of iron was added to make it heavier. It works like a magazine. When you remove a pick from it, a new one comes up from the bottom. I use Dunlop picks — usually a 0.73mm thick pick for acoustic guitars and 1mm ones for electric guitars.

Kaweco AL Sport Fountain Pen, D’heygere Pen Charm

The pen on the left is made from metal similar to my pick holder. It’s easy to carry and I like its weight and size. The other pen on the right is a keychain made by replacing the cap of a BIC pen with a metal one. It’s made by D’heygere, a Paris based accessories brand that 다다DADA多多 collaborated with. They make unusual and fun accessories I like.

D’heygere x 다다DADA多多 Fortune Ear Cuff, Rice Necklace

These are jewelry pieces made by 다다DADA多多 and D’heygere. I think it was a good collaboration that wittily reflects Asian elements. The ear cuff is made of jade, and after the D’heygere collaboration, we made several more collaborative items with the theme of the stone, such as BE@RBRICKs and skateboards. The necklace on the other hand, is made with rice grain-shaped pearls. I find the combination of these two themes fun.

Mexican Opal Ring

The Mexican opal in the middle of the ring has a story. I fell in love with opals when I saw a picture of a large Mexican opal a few years ago, so I went around the jewelry stores and got my hands on a rough stone. I entrusted it to an acquaintance for processing, but soon forgot about it as I got busy with world tours. After 3 years, I suddenly remembered and went to look for it. They gave me another opal with a similar design, saying they couldn’t find the one I had entrusted and the opal then was commissioned to a friend who completed the current ring. It’s a ring that I’m especially attached to because of the bizarre process.

Leatherman Raptor Shears, Knipex Pliers Wrench XS

I really like tools. The one on the left is Leatherman‘s emergency scissors I recently bought. These are for paramedics who need to cut patient’s clothes or objects in case of an emergency. I haven’t been put in that situation, but I wanted to have it because the build quality was so good. The one on the right is a wrench from a German tool brand called Knipex. It’s small in size, so I usually carry it around and use it when changing guitar strings.

Custom Matthias Headphone Amp

Since we frequently record at different locations overseas, the monitoring conditions are often different each time. One time we recorded a song at the Funkhaus, which is Nils Frahm’s analog studio in Berlin, Germany. There, I found a headphone amp custom-made by Matthias. We experienced the performance of the amp and liked it so much that we asked Matthias, the producer of it, to make one for us.

We like vintage German music equipment a lot such as Neumann instruments from the pre-unification era and Matthias is an amazing analog gear engineer. He knows how to handle all of them and even restore them in detail. He also can custom-make analog equipment to our specifications. For the amp, we chose the material of the casing, the gold color panel, and the knob designs, and we also requested the numbers to be engraved in Chinese characters. Additionally, the port configuration for the amp is optimized for all four of our members to listen in at the same time.

#hyukoh #ohhyuk #oh hyuk #hyuk #t: interview #hypebeast #f: hyuk #gear #i included a link to matthias' insta post with more details on the amp

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musedblues · 2 years

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More Than Words

(photo edits by @pitfulbaby_ on insta)

a/n: this is my personal rockstar!eddie dream, suspend your disbelief and enjoy this wild ride where eddie is no more and no less than a rock and roll icon. all credit goes to my wifey girl @joemazzmatazz , she has not only been majorly responsible for the birth of this idea but incredibly encouraging at my taking over bringing this fic to life.

warnings: sex, drugs and rock and roll baby. MINORS DON'T READ this fic has it allllllll.

///

To Corroded Coffin, you were a pseudo sibling, a reluctant roadie- the only friend who seemed to earn a stable spot on the sofa in their dirty garage turned rehearsal studio. And that was just the way you liked it.

It all started when their singer, Lonnie, cornered you outside of Mr. Clarke's class and begged you to film the bands appearance at the middle school talent show. They lost the competition, but won your heart that evening. Through the rest of that school year and the summer that followed, you'd watched the band evolve through the lense of your family's old super 8.

Filming the band's sets and offering the help make flyers for the local gigs they managed to score became your favorite past time. Because of this, Corroded Coffin dubbed you the bands guardian angel- but only after you alerted the drummer that his girlfriend was shagging the guitarist. So Drew broke it off with the girl and sent the six string traitor packing, and you offered to help find his replacement.

That month of auditions felt never ending and more hopeless with each passing wannabe rocker. Until Eddie.

Eddie Munson waltzed into that dirty old garage like he owned the place, playing his guitar before even speaking a word. The way he showed off surprised you. He'd been obviously outspoken in school, but the confidence he oozed behind his instrument was a sight to behold. And he was the best damn guitarist any of you'd heard... maybe ever. Without much discussion, the band started to jam. Ben picked up his bass and Lonnie started scatting out a melody and by the time they'd managed to make a song out of their messing about, it was the best Corroded Coffin had ever sounded.

The band asked you what you thought, each of them grinning when your head nodded in approval. Eddie was asked to join forces with the other players and at the end of it all, you were introduced as their guardian angel. It was a dumb ass joke, but one that wouldn't die. And though you protested the use of the nickname, it stuck.

It made sense, though. You were the one setting up amps and driving the sons of bitches across state lines to help land gigs to earn them some exposure. You were the one paying more than half the rent in your eventual sharde flat, so the boys could spend their earnings making music as professionally as possible. You were the one chucking beer cans back at hicks who tossed them the bands way, mid set. (Indiana was really not the scene for the metal group) Lonnie had to jump off stage to stop you from fist fighting a bulky drunken lumberjack, one evening.

Each of the boys owed you a lot. And you believed their music would become successful enough to count as pay back, one day. But despite having known him for a much shorter time than the others, Eddie most often sought the protection of the angel wings the others insisted you owned.

It was no secret that you thought the world of him. After a gig that paid the band in kegs of beer; you got drunk enough to tell Eddie he was the only guitarist you approved of joining the band because he was talented and cute, and he became endeared to you all the while. Not in the way you'd hoped, but he learned he could trust you all the same.

"Since you think I'm so dreamy, would you do me a favor, angel?" Eddie would bat his lashes and beg you to help him pass the test that finally got him to graduate. With the pout of his lip, he got you to help him make an extensive budget; or fix a broken pair of glasses he'd sometimes worn but never dared told anyone else he had to. Because you'd been transparent about your admiration for the guy, he began to trust you with his own secrets.

"You know my story." Eddie spoke in confidence one evening. "I've always been made to feel like such an outcast. I'm just worried that no matter how hard I try I'll still be the weirdo everyone loves to hate. And I don't want that to be what this band is known for. I don't want to mess this up."

And in turn, you'd said...

"Well, everyone who shows up for the music will see how much you love it. And they'll fall head over heels for you without even thinking. I am speaking from personal experience, of course." You both laughed and the guitarist thanked you for the pep talk that night, and for all the help you so selflessly continued to provide the band.

Eventually, all your hard work started to pay off. The recordings you'd captured of the bands every gig were finally picked up by the right local producer at the right time. The business man agreed to finance a real recording session for Corroded Coffin.

The release of that EP didn't make a big difference in the small town of Hawkins, but the single got air time by way of the capital city's most beloved underground radio station. Over the next year, Corroded Coffin went from selling out pubs in the city, to selling out auditoriums in the tristate area. The producer insisted on helping the band make a bona fide debut album, and the rest was history.

///

The band had fled your shared flat, leaving the space feeling void, and the rent looming over your head. They were four months into a European tour that was only just getting started. And everytime Ben rang home to insist on sending money back to help keep the lights on; the bassist revealed new tour dates kept getting added to the already lengthy schedule. You weren't surprised to hear it.

Corroded Coffin was usually always on the radio stations you favored. Their posters decorated record store walls and the windows of odd coffee houses. Their album was usual sold out in every place it was available to purchase. The band of boy's you'd grown to adore were becoming the rest of the music world's favorite group as well. Pride bloomed in your chest more fiercely each time their one and only music video looped through MTV.

When your phone clattered against the holder, and you knew it was them. No one else ever called. So when all you heard on the other line were guitars being tuned for a split second, you weren't surprised... Until the bands manager started to speak.

"Are you looking for extra work, this summer?" His gravel voice wondered in an accent you could never quite place.

"You know I would love nothing more than to quit my 9 to 5, Tony." You laughed, unsure if he did know. You'd barely interacted the bands new manager. Tony swooped in out of nowhere, promised the band the moon, and ushered them off on tour in the matter of two short months. You met him once at the airport when you dropped the lads off, before driving Eddie's van back to Hawkins.

"Good! Listen to this..." Tony went on to explain that Corroded Coffin were making plans for the future. The band had made big promises to MTV and to their record label about a second album and documentary. "The boys want you to film it."

"Can't... shouldn't MTV handle that?"

"MTV will. The band want the majority of the footage to feel familiar, like watching an old home movie. They tell me you've got just the equipment. And old footage we can use, too, so it'll all blend together well. You'll work with MTV's crew. We're pushing the 'small town boys make it really really big' angle."

Tony went on to promise you more money than you've ever had in your life, and even got Drew on the line to confirm this was not a prank. Your life changed in one fifteen minute phone call. But just how much was yet to be determined...

///

You arrived in a French airport with two precariously packed bags and a bundle of nerves growing with every step. Since when were you so anxious about meeting up with your oldest friends? The place was packed with travelers, shuffling every which way. Tony stood waiting for you, his lanky arms opened in a welcoming fashion as you hurried to meet him near a luggage carousel. At his side was the MTV rep you'd be working alongside to make Corroded Coffin's documentary come to life.

After a moment of going over the game plan for the next few months and complaining a bit about your flight, Tony showed you down a noticeably more sparse hall. Only a few people shuffled by before you spotted them- the boys in the band you'd known so well.

"Tony! We came looking for you! Take off is soon." Drew called out, his ashy blonde curls grown down to his waist, longer than ever. As Tony started plodding with more purpose, the band kept walking your way, picking up their own pace to greet you.

Ben lifted you from the ground in an embrace, and you worried aloud over how skinny he'd become. Lonnie and Drew ruffled your hair before chivalrously taking your bags to carry toward the plane. As they turned to walk in the correct direction, Eddie was the last to emerge before you. His smile was coquettish, like he knew something he couldn't wait to tell you. His elbows stayed near his sides as he raised both hands to invite you into a lazy but well meaning hug. His hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made you wonder if he'd slept at all since the tour started.

"Hey, you kind of look like shit." You smiled, glad to see the guy even if he was looking a little rough. Eddie didn't embrace you as expected, but planted both of his extended hands on either side of your head.

"Coming from you, angel, that really stings." Eddie's grin grew wider before he placed a kiss to the crown of your head. "But I needed to hear it." You took note of the exhaustion in his tone, despite Eddie's efforts to save face.

"Well, you better clean up your act before I catch you looking such a wreck on my camera." As you spoke, you couldn't help but brush a strand of matted hair from Eddie's forehead- missing the way he'd let you dote on him before every show. "Be my mirror, kid." He'd ask, knowing fully well you'd take any opportunity to stare a little more intently at the guy.

Now; he agreed to follow your orders as he flung an arm around your shoulder- leading you down the hall a few feet behind everyone else.

The group shuffled quickly outdoors, where you were less surprised to find a private jet idoling than you were by a horde of fans anxiously corralled behind a gate. A guard stood by as the swarm hollered at the sight of the band, collectively reaching toward them. How'd that many people even get back here, you wondered? The boys in the band waved but seemed unaffected by the chaos as they hurried on the jet. As you loaded in and processed how quickly everything was already happening, everyone found seats and settled. Cracking open books and pouring drinks to pass the time. Eddie, however, crashed right at your side and let his head hit your shoulder- his eyes closing as he fell into an immediate sleep.

"He hasn't slept since Glasgow." Tony chuckled in the seat across from you, pointing to the passed out guitarist. "Was beginning to wonder if he ever would again."

///

The next row of days and nights were a blur. You spent every second trying to keep up the pace that Corroded Coffin seemed to be used to now, running onto stages and dashing out of the grasp of the fans that seemed to be waiting around every corner. The shows Corroded Coffin put on were dazzling, and it never failed to raise an emotion within you to see them all take charge of such a massive opportunity. To hear their music pulse through venues. To see the dream playing out in real time.

The MTV rep and yourself had found a way of working together decently. He'd talk to the band between shows, film the things your little old super 8 couldn't quite capture. And you'd filmed just about everything else, because just about everything Corroded Coffin did was remarkable to the people around them- charming.

Eddie would reach into the front row of every other audience and grab a hand close enough to kiss a set of knuckles- sending the sea of the other thousands into bombastic cheers. Drew would stand on tabletops and scale fountains and laugh brightly enough to steer authority figures away from too harshly reprimanding him. Lonnie would turn interviews into parties, making sure camera men and assistance were supplied with beer cans and insisting radio hosts spin Metallica records in the middle of Q&A's. Ben would try and keep the peace but could be caught smirking through the chaos all the same.

Then came the autograph signing at a record store in Monaco. The business shut its doors for a half hour to let the boys do some shopping in peace, keeping out a swarm of fans that chanted and cheered to be let in. You recorded your friends froliking through the asiles and picking out stacks of vinyl to claim for their own, winking at fans through the windows every now and again. They certainly were getting used to all the attention, something they usually only ever received negatively back home.

Just before the doors were opened, you set your camera down and tried to enjoy the time with your friends as just that, looking over records all the same as them. You'd found a vinyl, the only one your favorite band had released that you didn't already own. Eddie noticed your excitement, and without a word he plucked the record from your grasp and added it to his own pile at the register- mentioning something about listening to everything later in his room on his portable player.

It was a swoon-worthy gesture, but one that left an ache in your heart all the while. You knew there would never be time to sit and listen to any of this music, even if Eddie had hoped there would be. The band had no second of peace, there were always a place to be, people waiting. The band was given only a moments notice before the record store doors opened and you were left filming the mob shoving posters in the boy's hands to sign.

///

In a private booth of some elegant restaurant in Barcelona, the once long-suffering band had fully morphed into unabashed attention whores. Drew sat with a model under each of his arms, Lonnie was tracking down local reporters to woo, and you were sat back soaking it all in. By now, the scene was familiar, but it hit you all at once that perhaps it was the new normal way of things. Grown suddenly a little exhausted by that point, you wished hopelessly for a weekend to yourself, for an afternoon with a book in your lap and no planes to worry about catching. But the only vacation from this scene that you'd kept reliving was a trip to the bar top by yourself.

You'd stood next to a nice enough guy who started getting a little too handsy. Alas, your pseudo vacation was soiled. You were working on slithering away from the stranger when Eddie appeared. You noticed by his saunter the guitarist was hammered.

"Hey fuck off, buddy." Eddie smiled with fire in his gaze, moving to push the handsy stranger even further away than you'd managed to nudge him. There was slur in your friends voice so noticeable that you wondered how he was even functioning right now. It was then you realized Eddie had your camera in his grasp.

"You're always behind this thing. S'your turn to be in front!" He declared, taking a step back to point the lense at you. And of course you were in no state to be filmed, dirty hair pulled back, your clothes wrinkled by travel. And anyway he was wasting space you were getting paid to film him.

"Okay, pal." You managed to gently yank your device from Eddies grasp and steady his inebriated wobble all the while. In the same moment he mumbled in wonder what drink you had in your grasp, some girl came up to him ask for an autograph. The guitarist let his grin grow wickedly slow as the shy young thing held a pen in his direction. The guy nearly knocked it out of her hand as he grossly agreed to sign anything she'd wanted.

"You're a mess." You huffed a small laugh, making sure he heard you before you decidedly saw yourself out of Eddie's line of chaos. You were instead off to find Ben. He'd surly do shots with you, and manage to maintain a conversation worth while. Even if you had to tolerated his new groupie girlfriend, with an impossibly shrill voice that never stopped chattering.

By the time you'd found the pair, you learned that Ben had proposed to this newfound love of his and the two had made plans to get married in the next city. You offered to order celebratory shots, but only drank to dull the ever growing ache in your head.

///

At the next backstage green room, you sat fidgeting with your camera, trying to decide if you should film Lonnie attempting to apply eyeliner or not. It made his dark eyes pop, but he was so sloppy with the process. Eddie was near, fretting over his stage outfit. How could he choose between a flannel and ripped jeans or a ripped up shirt, and the same ratty fucking jeans?

"Does this look alright?" Eddie stood before you with a grimace, in the a different version of the same kind of outfit he'd been so hung up on. You paused to consider his change of clothes, but then he spoke again before you could.

"If I don't look good enough to make you blush, angel, I'm doin' something wrong."

"Dude. You look fine." You laughed, and this was not the right answer apparently, as he stormed toward the corner of the room, leafing through the wardrobe wrack again. It was then and there in the middle of the bloody green room that Edward Munson dropped his jeans to the ground in favor of a shiny leather pair.

It was an olympic feat to hide your fluster in that moment; hoping you looked as nonchalant as possible while deciding to finally film Lonnie's attempt at eyeliner. But the singer wasn't about to let you off that easy...

"Will you two ever just bone and get it over with?" Your friend gave a wicked grin to your camera and you moved it away in a hurry to catch his eye with your frustrated gaze.

"It's hard to film you lot being funny when you act like such a dick, Lonnie." You huffed, hopping your face didn't look as hot as it felt. The singer only chuckled at your disconcert in that annoying brotherly sort of way that had you thanking God you hadn't had to grow up with these boys as your actual siblings- shuddering to think how they'd up the ante of humiliation on a day to day basis.

The band was promptly ushred to the stage then, a welcomed change of pace. As Corroded Coffin kicked off a show that sent a thousand fans roaring, you stood with a racing mind at the side of the stage. Hadn't the boys moved passed teasing you like that? When Eddie joined the band, there were a few long months of torture, the boys razzing every time Eddie got you to blush. But eventually there were no more jokes to make. So the boys settled for smiles under the rolling of eyes- their only attempt at taking the piss out of your dynamic with the guitarist.

You watched on the boys share nods and wordless connection as they brought their music to life. And you watched as Eddie shot winks to the front row while he shredded away. That's what he did. Everyone was used to it by now, Eddie's flirting. But you couldn't get over why Lonnie dared to say what he'd said, an hour before. You decided it couldn't matter as much as you wanted it too, and managed all the while to get lost dancing to the music.

///

In the middle of that last show, Eddie had stumbled a bit but brushed off the near fall with a smile that endeared the masses into cheering his name. You'd always known he was charming, but to observe such waves of people showering him in such never ending adoration was still pretty wild to process. In fact, the audience seemed possessed by lust, blinded to Corroded Coffin's little setbacks that kept happening that show. No mishap upended the performance by any means; but you couldn't help but notice how Drew fumbled to find another pair of drumsticks and the way Lonnie paused to breath a little longer between songs.

The next morning welcomed a long awaited scheduled set of days off, as to not completely burn out the band. But it all seemed too late when Eddie woke up worse for wear. Tony pounded on your door loud enough to wake you and demand you take some of the painkillers you kept on hand down the hall to the guitarist. As the manager went to phone a doctor, you scurried to knock on Eddie's door. The faint groan he responded with was answer enough for you to see yourself in. The guy was slumped over in bed, looking dead to the world.

"I'm dyin'. Can you play guitar? Someone will have to replace me the rest of this tour." He croaked, not bothering to move from the mess of blankets he was nearly face down against.

"Would some of these keep you alive for a couple more days?" You rattled the pill bottle and stood against the wall nearest his bed, watching Eddie turn to squint up at you.

"You know I can't see that far." He huffed, turning his face back to whine into the pillows.

"Im sure if you wore your secret glasses you're head wouldn't hurt as much. And I'm sure if you ever consumed something more than whiskey for dinner you'd feel less shitty in general." You listed, opening the bottle and moving to sit at the side of the bed to hand the pills to the pitiful guitarist.

Eddie slowly turned to face you, taking the painkillers with a pout. He grumbled a thank you and you let him know that Tony had phoned a doctor, because no precaution was too over the top when it came to making sure the rockstar would be able to get back on another stage in 42 hours time. You insisted Eddie rest until then, and decidedly got up to find your own peace for the day.

As you left the room, you saw Drew worriedly waiting for life or death news in his opened door way. When you informed the drummer that you were sure Eddie was just exhausted, the guy laughed in relife, and thanked you for coming along. Claiming the band would legitimately fall to bits without you around to glue things in sensible place. You invited the guy to the lodge gardens where you planned to help yourself to some lunch, but he decided resting the day away was in order for himself as well.

You found solace in the fact that the band was spending the day taking some kind of care of themselves, something you hadn't seen done in the month and a half you spent on the road with them. And your excitement grew when you realized today you could finally do the same. After cleaning up and choosing a book as your companion, you ordered some food and took it to the lush gardens of the elaborate Italian lodge. There were few other residents that crossed your marble laid path, but the place was so massive it didn't shock you to realize there were ample opportunities to find privacy in public.

You placed your plate on a small garden table and settled into a cushioned iron chair, appreciating the afternoon breeze and birdsong you'd been longing for. A stark contrast to the grimey backstages and buzzing of amps you'd been used to. After a few chapters and most of your meal had gone with the hours, you were interrupted.

"What are you reading?" Eddie had emerged from the plant covered path, strolling toward you. He looked better, dressed in a plain white tee with his tousled hair pulled back.

"Doctor Zhivago, don't think you'd like it very much." You announced as he approached closer. Eddie sat himself in the only chair at your side, saying something about how Drew mentioned your whereabouts to the guitarist.

"Shall we order you some food? Coffee? With, what is it you like... seven sugars?" You asked with a roll of your eyes. Eddie smirked at your comment, stealing a couple of leftover grapes from your plate.

"It's not sweet enough with any less."

"Don't come crying to me when you get diabetes or some shit."

Eddie stole more fruit with a shrug as you asked if any doctor had paid him a visit yet.

"He did. Didn't tell me anything you hadn't already said. I should be wearing my glasses. I should be taking better care of myself. I guess I really needed this day off. Just couldn't stand to lay up there doing nothing anymore." Eddie rambled on more about how didn't realize just how hard and fast he'd been living, it all seemed to hit him the moment he stopped.

"And anyway, rockstars don't wear glasses." Eddie pointed, stealing more of your food.

"Holly and Lennon would beg to differ." You cocked a brow and shut your book, shifting your entire attention to Eddie.

"I know." He slumped funnily, making you chuckle. "I'll break them out. Just don't film me looking too smart, got it? I've got an image to uphold."

"I promise not to film you looking any less than rock royalty." You laughed. Eddie chuckled too, and rambled a bit longer about how caught up in the scene he'd become, struggling to remember that last time he was this sober and exactly what day it was. You listened and nodded along, knowing how taxing this tour had been for you, imagining it was an even more exhausting endeavour for Eddie.

"You know I'm glad you're still out here putting up with us all. I really missed you, angel." Eddie looked right at you, stalling your heart for a beat against your wish to shed this silly bunch of feelings you held for the guitarist.

"Don't say something you don't mean." You tried to joke like usual but knew it came out a little more like a warning than you'd intended. Eddie watched you for a moment before he spoke up again. His gaze was always so magnetic. His presence was always so captivating. You couldn't help but swoon a little when he said things like that to you.

"We're friends... right? It's selfish but... I could really use a friend out here."

You let out a small sigh, sitting up a bit to respond. "Eddie I can put my silly crush aside, like always. I could never compete with all the groupies vying for your attention anyway." You smiled and insisted you'd be glad to continue being Eddies voice of reason throughout the rest of this tour.

Eddie thanked you, letting the moment of gratitude hang in the air before he slumped a little further back in his chair and insisted you read the book in your lap aloud. He talked you into doing so, and it became a relaxing passage of time for the pair of you, until dusk threatened to fall and a chill sent you both back to seperate rooms for the night.

///

After two glorious days of relative quiet at that posh Italian lodge, it was time to hop back on the road once more. The band played show after show, never failing to kick ass but struggling to avoid slip up's more than usual. While he never let it show to the crowd, you noticed Eddie's fatigue when he slumped for a beat too long near an amp, pretending to plug something in, but stalling just to collect himself, it seemed.

It wasn't helping that he would only wear his glasses when he was all alone- declaring they were not nearly metal enough for the world to see- because Eddie was never alone. And his headaches had nearly emptied your bottle of painkillers. The combination of the handful of pills and whatever alcohol he'd claimed as dinner were threatening to turn the kids brain to mush, you noticed.

Eventually, when he was just spaced out enough, during moments he would sling his arm around your shoulder and sit with you on plane rides- you got him to wear the bloody things. During band meetings and room service breakfasts with just you and the other guys, he'd opt to see better. During times like then, no one was quite so worried how they looked or who to impress, anyhow. All anyone knew was how much you all missed home.

But the tour persisted mercilessly. You'd film the band from the sidelines of talk show appearances and as they mucked about during soundchecks. You napped during radio interviews, and you'd sit through after parties while the boys let girls pour shots down their throats. And slowly, you watched as you lost each friends company to prettier people and more important offers. Each night it got worse.

You watched on as their collective interest was lost on you- as the boys in the band embraced the scene you were equally as submerged into but were most stranded amongst. The friends you'd flown across the world for would leave in the middle of stories you managed to conjure up, when famous producers crashed odd dinner parties. Lonnie promised for weeks to take you to dinner just the pair of you, to gossip and get away from it all. But he'd raincheck every afternoon, skipping off with people he'd only just met, instead. Drew and Ben had taken to crushing up pills to keep them awake, but were always too intoxicated to be present, floating through the motions, disregarding your general existence in their orbit.

But it really stung every time Eddie lost interest in the slivers of time he decided to spend with you. It only took a stunning blue eyed beauty to tear his gaze from yours, and steal him away for the rest of the night. It would only take a shinny new guitar handed to the budding rock and roll icon, to get Eddie yammering away to a set of strangers. Leaving you to wonder how the story he was telling you was meant to end. He'd never get around to telling you the end of many of those things his attention was stolen from.

The very worst was the mansion party. You'd found yourselves in a castle like home, full of your peers all more wasted than the next. You couldn't sure by whom you'd all been invited or how it even mattered. All you could process was the music that flooded from speakers, heavy drums and bass never ceasing to thrum through your ears. Sweaty bodies crowded each corner, and the drinks never seemed to run out.

You'd gotten used to the girls by now. The pretty young things that would claw their way through crowds for a chance to be near Eddie. As foreign as the concept was, having only known the guitarist to garner the opposite reactions from girls back home, you'd gotten used to it. Eddie always had an excitable groupie on standby, to wink at from stage, to drag into his room at night.

But tonight was different. A line of ladies seemed to be impatiently waiting for a turn with the moon eyed guitarist, lingering close by in packs, whispering about him to each other before leaning in to whisper to him. Eddie invited one or two at a time into the seat of his lap, petting back their hair and shoving his tongue down their throats.

He wasn't breaking any rules. He hadn't ditched any previously made plans to stick close by you. He hadn't made any promises to you. Yet you'd felt the loneliest you ever imagined feeling in the middle of that people packed mansion- watching Eddie hand his heart out to sets of strangers who weren't you.

So when a strikingly beautiful foreign metal head settled in the seat at your side, and began to strike up profound conversation; you warmly accepted his bold introduction. The man was almost too pretty, a perfect set of features shone past long waves of sandy hair. His near curls tickled your face when he leaned in to tell a joke in your ear, past the loud thrumming music.

And when his hand dared to settle just above your knee, you locked eyes with someone else across the room. Eddie was sat in an armchair, not to far from you. There was a girl at his side, doing her best to leave a hickey where she'd latched her mouth to his neck. He'd worn an odd sneer on his face, eyes never leaving yours once the pair of you had noticed each other. You were the first to break the stare off, though. Turning instead to gaze at the stunning metal head who leaned into you, daring to move his hand further up your thigh. As he did, you couldn't help but look back at the guitarist across the way.

It seemed Eddie hadn't stopped looking in your direction, even as a new girl settled into his lap, twirling one of his curls around her manicured finger. All at once, the guy at your side moved his hand from your leg to your hip, daring to trace circles with a soft finger as he told you some very raunchy story. As you'd kept your gaze on Eddie, you watched when he irritably nudged the girl from his lap to stand. What was his sudden problem, you wondered?

Trying your damnedest to enjoy the shred of admiration the foreign guy held for you, you let him move strands of hair behind your ear and didn't mind when the stories he told in your ear grew increasingly more vulgar. If things kept going in this direction, maybe you wouldn't have to spend another night all alone.

You rolled your eyes at Eddie as he dared to drift close by, on his way to retrieve another beer, you figured. He glared at you in a way that had you questioning his sobriety. You wondered if it would be worth addressing, or if he'd be none the wiser to the evil eye he'd been giving you, the next morning. Ben popped into view then too, noticing Eddies scowl, and the bassist mouthed to you from across the way asking what the hell his problem was. You just gave a small shake of your head as you decidedly turned to face the fellow at your side. He was gentle in the way he grabbed at you. He was funny too, enough to pull a string of giggles out of you. You'd nearly lost your attention entirely to him, until you detected Eddie once more.

The guitarist was standing closer than ever before, and you noticed just in time to watch as he pretended to hear Ben call out his name. In an animated overreaction, Eddie pretended to be distracted enough to bump against the chair your new foreign friend sat in, and Eddie, with sly intention, spilled a full glass of beer across the fellows back.

The metal heads once endearing attention was torn from you and a rage took over him as he turned his stunning features to find Eddie feigning an apology he very obviously did not mean. Passersby gasped and laughed and batted their eyes at Eddie as they floated near.

"Eddie!" You hissed, getting up to move and giving a real apology to your almost-date. He seemed entirely disinterested now, clenching his jaw and gently yet dismissively pushing you aside to likely find something to change into. You tried to stop him but it was no use. When he'd gone you saw Eddie still standing there with a shit eating grin spread across his face.

"Fuck you Eddie Munson." You seethed, each word tearing from your throat with an anger you were not accustomed to.

"I know you'd really like to, what's stopping you huh?" Eddie bent a little so he could look square in your eye as he responded. And though his remark could have made you weak in the knees, it only made your anger grow tenfold. He was definitely wasted.

"You jealous mother fucker!" You pointed, unsure where this spat was headed or why it had started in the first place. Before it could continue, you felt Ben's familiar boney grip yanking you away. He demanded Eddie go cool off somewhere, and enveloped you into his skinny side, bounding away from the guitarist.

That very same evening, Ben's annoying groupie wife left him for a famous chef she'd met at that cursed party. He fell to bits, a true blue heartbreak. You didn't end up alone that night after all. You and Ben stayed up sniffling through tears in your room, wondering when everything started to suck because the tour sure started off happier, you both recalled.

///

Since then, the bassist had become your closest confidant. His newly despondent state matched your own, and the pair of you often sat on the outskirts of parties and nights out. He'd always end up at your side after interviews or during shared meals. He'd give fans polite smiles when they interrupted your lunches, and wait for them to leave so you two could carry on talking about books and movies to dull the ache of reality.

The rest of the band was not nearly as grounded, letting themselves get entirely swept up in the depth of the tour. Lonnie had grown bitchy, pissing off his bandmates when he didn't think soundchecks were taken seriously enough, often starting quarls in the dressing room after. Drew was never sober, always on something that hindered his ability to care as much as he used to. And Eddie was never alone. People of all kinds swarmed around him, and he ate up the attention, allowing strangers to crash rehearsals and take up space on the jet. He'd been so busy wooing so many new faces that he'd barely paid you attention for a handful of days.

///

On the rooftop of some raging Japanese hotel, the band was busy celebrating another kick ass show. Before the after party had even really begun, Drew was already passed out near the pool. You stayed near, watching his chest rise and fall, until a roadie was assigned to drag the drummer to bed, hopefully without a hitch. Lonnie was busy buying rounds of drinks and Eddie was busy kicking bottles off of table tops. Ben had promised to stick close by, but he'd unfortunately fallen in love at first sight with a girl who looked a lot like the one he'd recently had his heart broken by.

So there you were, left sulking, wishing you hadn't decide to leave your camera in your room, because it was easy to hide behind. Now you just wanted to leave, and you realized nothing was stopping you from doing just that. And not just this rooftop party, not just this city.

"Tony. I want to go home." You shouted at him from across a mini bar. The guy was just as spent, but seemed to perk up when he realized what you were demanding. When the manager didn't try and stop you right away; you made an argument that the band had more than enough footage from tour, from you, and that you were desperate to get off the never ending ride. Tony tried for a moment to talk you down from making an irrational decision, but he could see you weren't going to back down. Eventually the guy shuffled off mentioning something about a phone call, promising you he'd see what he could do about putting an end to your misery.

After stealing a shot from under Lonnie's nose and chugging the last of your own drink, you moved to find your coat and the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" A voice boomed through the crowd. Eddie was stumbling toward you, dragging some girl behind as he maneuvered to approach. It was the first time he'd spoken directly to you in what felt like forever, maybe longer.

"I'm calling it a night." You voiced, slinging your thin garment over your bent arm.

"No, stay a little while longer, Slash is supposed to show up later! This party will die without you." You were flattered that Eddie wouldn't want you to miss rock and roll royalty gracing the up and coming band's party, but you were just not in the mood to be otherwise disregarded, tonight.

"I don't really feel like that's true." You hadn't wanted your reply to come off so bittered but you couldn't seem to help it, this tour was wearing you down.

"No, he's really gonna be here-"

Just then Tony shouldered passed the guitarist, the interruption stunning the guy from finishing his sentence.

"There is a flight tomorrow morning. If you can be up by six, there will be a ticket home waiting for you at the front desk." The manager grumbled in his unintelligible accent, reluctant to send you away. "I think you should think about this, though-"

"There is nothing to think about Tony, I want to go home."

"Wait, where are you going?" Eddie fretted, seemingly coming out of his stupor enough to comprehend your conversation with Tony.

"You guys should have enough footage. I'm going back to Hawkins." You swallowed the lump in your throat and watched Tony gaze at Eddie from the side of his eyes, as if the manager had expected the guitarist to blow.

Eddies face did fall as he stepped closer to say "No. Don't leave me yet, angel." No sooner than the words left his lips did the girl at his side sneer and demand to know who you were and why Eddie cared so much.

"She's nobody, babe, come on." Eddie groaned, his focus morphing in the blink of an eye, as if he'd never cared about stopping you at all. His hold tightened desperately on the girl he seemingly favored tonight. Tony seemed to notice too, cringing at Eddie's disregard.

That "nobody" hit you where it hurt, and it was hard not to let it show, as you shoved past Eddie, determined to leave faster than before. You heard him call out to you again, a half hearted attempt to stop you. But he couldn't.

///

You found yourself alone, like usual, but unusually glad for it. There was a massive bottle of vodka calling your name from your rooms mini bar, one you wanted all your own. You switched on the telly to keep the silence of the room from driving you mad, downed as much vodka as you could in record time, and started packing.

It was somewhere halfway down the bottle that the band arrived back from the rooftop. You could tell by the ruckus coming from the hall that had been quiet before now. Debating on leaving a goodbye note, or letting Tony break the news to the boys, you kept packing and pretended the distant laughter from the hall didn't sting to hear.

Then there was a knock. You took another swig of alcohol as the banging at your door grew annoyingly more persistent. You only moved to open it when you couldn't stand the noise any longer.

"I didn't mean nobody.'" Eddie grumbled past a frown, drunk as you. He leaned against the door frame, a mess, shirt barely buttoned, hair unkempt. You started to wordlessly shut the door on him but he stopped it from closing with a foot.

"I didn't mean it, she was nobody and I was just excited about Slash. He didn't even show up. Please let me in." Eddie slurred, trying to slot himself between the half shut door.

"No, Eddie, I'm tired of being your second choice. You only talk to me when the people you're trying to impress aren't around."

That stunned the guy into silence. You watched his big brown eyes stare into yours with realization. "I do that?"

You just scowled, turning back to finish packing, reluctantly allowing Eddie to squirm through and lock you both in.

"You seriously aren't going back to Indiana, are you?" He worried, moving to stall before where you paced from the closet to your opened suitcase.

"I am." You sighed. In a few words you reminded Eddie that your job here was done and the tour was driving you mad. That the band was driving you mad. But as angry as you were at Eddie you were even more in love with him. So you couldn't help but empathize with how worn down he must've felt, too.

"I think you should stay." He said. "I really want you to stay."

"Why? You have barely said two words to me since Russia."

"I-I..." He stuttered but seemed to recall the past several days, realizing neither of you had really been around each other much.

"You guys won't even notice I'm gone." You spoke, still picking clothes away from hangers and moving to toss them in your bag.

"That's not true." Eddie echoed your statement from much earlier. Whether he meant to or not, he did. And it sent your head spinning a little. "Please don't leave me alone out here. I dont care if you film another thing..."

"You're never alone, Eddie." You seethed, moving to toss another sweater in your unzipped suitcase. But Eddie stopped you, his fingers brushing your wrist to stall your movement before he cautiously wrapped his digits around your arm there.

"I really fucked this all up. I don't want you to leave me. Please stay."

"Why do you only want my attention when you're about to lose it?" You demanded to know.

"Because I'm too much of a pussy to ask for your attention all of the time! And I do want your attention all of the time. And I don't want you to fucking leave me." He boomed back, voice bursting with emotion as he grabbed at you. His one hand that had been latched onto your wrist had joined his other hand in holding either side of your face in his grasp.

"Then prove it." You ordered. If Eddie wanted you around he certainly hadn't been acting like it. But what happened next wasn't exactly the proof you'd been expecting.

Eddie was kissing you before the words finished forming on your lips. You were stunned, absolutely shocked. Not only by his decision to press his lips against your, but by the voracity in which he kissed you. His tongue pushed against yours, his fingers tugged your hair, his body radiated heat flush against your own. And when he pulled away he looked at you and asked with staggered breath,

"Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Just... shut the fuck up and do it again." You decidedly croaked, too drunk too care otherwise. You'd dreamed of this. You'd wanted this for so long it was impossible to demand he cease. The room spun from the alcohol and your heart hammered from the feeling of finally having Eddie right where you'd always wanted him. He did as he was told, grabbing you and kissing you and pushing you toward the bed.

His kisses were loud and desperate, and so were yours in turn. His curls tickled your skin, and his hands weren't afraid to wander. With no real time to revel in the bliss of certain caresses, things escalated at a pace so quick you'd wondered if you'd slipped into a drunken dream. Eddie tore away your shorts as you ripped away his belt, dying to get to what was underneath already.

The man's kisses against your neck were searing and his muddled curses sounded like cries. He shoved a hand down your panties, and the way his fingers brushed your core was the most gentle he'd been since this interaction began.

You were the one to shove off his underwear and Eddie wasted no time promptly ramming into you. Your head spun and your blood boiled as his hands clawed into your hips and his raspy voice demanded, "Please stay. For me." Then he called you by your name. Not that silly nickname you'd never favored much. Eddie plead your honest name in your own ear as he fucked you hard enough to send the headboard slamming against the wall.

///

You felt like it lasted forever. But the next thing you realized, you were waking up to sharp rays of sun and Eddie's heavy limbs weighing you down. And as soon as you recalled how your evening ended together, regret flooded your system. Sadness followed suit and before you could process those feelings, a worry moved you to get up and go. With great caution you slipped out of Eddie's loose hold and rushed to gather a change of clothes.

It took you no time to race to the front desk, where a polite attendant informed you the time was eleven in the morning. Waaaay past six. You wanted to curse her and cry and scream. But it was your own fault you missed your flight home.

You spent the next little while hiding in the hotels public loo, dreading finding Eddie still sprawled on your bed. Dreading the conversation the pair of you were eventually going to have to have. Dreading the idea of the rest of the band realizing the guitarist was not in his own room, but had stayed the night in yours.

Eddie had always known you'd dreamt of him having his way with you. But it wasn't how you imagined. It wasn't why you imagined. It felt like the man's last ditch attempt to keep you around one day longer. It didn't feel at all like an act of mutual admiration.

Luckily, he was gone when you got the guts to go back up to your room. And you managed to avoid everyone until it was time to head to the next venue. You would've stayed locked in your hotel room if Tony hadn't come looking for you. He was delighted you'd missed the flight to America, insisting you hurry along to join the others- handing you your camera as if they truly needed more film from you.

///

You sat with arms crossed in the limo on the way to that next show. Drew kept asking you to help him suss out new lyrics he'd been working on, talking to himself, he realized, when you made no effort to put in your two cents. You kept your mouth shut to avoid spewing out all your useless frustrations. You kept your eyes unfocused, refusing to meet Eddies. He was sat across from you, copying your posture, willing you to catch his intensely held gaze. Ben was there too, crying about the girl he fell in love with last night not coming back to his room with him.

In the blink of an eye, music flooded the stadium during the bands sound check, and you cornered Tony once more. Reminding him of how much footage you'd captured already and wondering how much longer you'd need to keep this up. The manager tried to encourage you to stay on the rest of the tour, because it was anyone's guess the antics that would ensue and the band asked you to be there to capture everything. He reminded the more footage you shot the more money you made.

All you could do was nod along with his speech, when he failed to let you get another word in edgewise. Tony's accented rambles became white noise as you drifted through the motions of a good little backstage busy bee. Steaming shirts from wardrobe, mixing drinks, letting your thoughts tear your own heart in two.

It's just what he does. You told yourself. You were the girl in the dark room alone with Eddie that night. You were just in the right place at the right time. As this mantra played through your mind, a voice cut through your thoughts. Eddie was marching toward you with a finger pointed sternly outward.

"We gotta talk about last night." He demanded.

"There is nothing to talk about." You snapped back. "We were drunk." You hurried to turn out of the doorway the other boys were floating in too; ignoring their curious glances as you and Eddie shared a biting words. On your breeze out you decided your destination would be the backlot, a bit of cool air would do you some good before the venue crowded more.

"Please wait." Eddie called after you, "Where are you going?"

"None of your business." You hissed, aggravated by the way he kept his stride to follow behind your own. You tried to lose his trail on yours, swerving past bustling roadies, but were angered further when Eddie reached a hand out to stop you around a corner.

"Are you just gonna stalk me all night? Cause I certainly didn't invite you to join me."

"Why are you so mad at me?" He begged when you stormed past the heavy doors to the private car park. There was a chill in the wind, and a quiet in the night that was more than inviting.

"You seriously didn't just ask me that." The heavy door slammed as Eddie took a step toward you in the dark night.

"I did and I want your answer. Why are you mad? You told me to keep kissing you! You were the one ripping my fucking pants off!"

"You fuck anything with legs, Eddie! I was waiting for you to tell me that you loved me! That I wasn't just the warm body of the night, the closest thing for you to take to bed. It's my fault too, for expecting sex to matter more when we had it. But the whole thing broke my heart, Eddie. You've known how I've felt about you all this time! But you didn't sleep with me because you liked me. You slept with me to get me to stay."

You struggled to hold back tears, the vice around your throat making the words hard to spit out but you made sure he knew you meant them. His face contorted into a confounded grimace. A look you'd never seen him pull before. Eddie stepped forward again, extending an arm out to you as he began to declare,

"It did matter! I do-"

Before he could finish the backstage door flew open with a thud and a roadie stuck his breathless head out to say... "Eddie, your guitar, it's an emergency you need to come in right now."

"Fuck!" Eddies voice dropped with defeat. He let his arms fall as he spun on his heels to reluctantly face the issue.

The roadie anxiously hurried the guitarist inside and when the heavy stage door finally slammed shut and Eddies muttered curses faded behind it, you let your frustrated tears bubble to the surface.

///

The next week went the same. You sat on opposite ends of tables and corners of the room, away from Eddie. He tried, though, to include you in card games- bringing you styrofoam cups of tea between soundchecks and after shows. You couldn't help but let a grin grow across your lips when he approached you with that pleading look in his eye, but you bit back those smiles best you could and shook your head at his every offer.

Then Eddie would pick a groupie, any groupie, shove those styrofoam cups into her grasp, give her a hand of cards, and shoot glares your way for the next twenty four hours. You were replaceable.

During some midday dart game they demanded you film, the band gathered the collective guts to ask what the hell your problem had been the past few days. You shrugged and mentioned missing home, wishing aloud once more Tony would hook you up with another ticket to Hawkins and approval from MTV. Ben worried instantly, you'd been his closest friend out here. Lonnie and Drew wouldn't hear of it, coxing you to stay, asking Eddie to pitch in his encouragements.

"Tired of fucking trying." He spat angrily, chucking a dart to the board so forcefully it clattered against the wall. Everyone got quiet as Eddie kicked himself out of that greenroom.

Ben managed to get you alone, that same evening, demanding to know what the fuck was really going on.

"I don't just like him. I love him. And you know how bad that can hurt." You admitted with a frown. Ben pursed his lips and nodded a little before pulling you into his side with one arm.

"I'm sorry, angel. Let's just get through the rest of this tour, yeah?"

You nodded and followed the guy to the hotel lobby bar, where he paid for all the shots you shared. Ben got you to talk about what happened between yourself and the guitarist that had the pair of you so obviously at odds. It felt good to get off your chest. Ben was a good listener, and you knew given his recent tumultuous love life that he'd know where you were coming from.

The band put on a kick ass show that night; after Eddie lost the dart game and you'd gotten buzzed enough in the hotel bar to be able to dance along to the bands set by night fall. You slept on the ride back home, unbothered, while the band chatted aimlessly with the MTV rep.

///

The balcony of your hotel room was almost the perfect escape, a little corner of the world you could sit out in without feeling trapped in another room, in another venue. Just you and a vast expanse of trees and stars and the far off view of the city to the north. As you swayed between the sliding doorway and the warm inside of the room, deciding it was best to call it bedtime, there was a knock, soft and gentle.

"Can we talk? Please." Eddie was there he is wearing his glasses. He begged your real name again, and you could see how tired he was. If he wanted sleep he would've been dreaming by now. But he was here at your door, and you'd missed him despite yourself, despite your heartache. So you let him in.

"It's 2am." You worried. The band had an early morning scheduled.

Eddie nodded, taking in the features of your room. And when he asked you out onto your balcony, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. The Australian wind was warm even at night. So there you sat in chairs facing each other, settling into the silence that had grown increasingly louder between the pair of you over the past few days.

"I'm gonna tell you something. And it's going to sound stupid. And I understand if you won't believe me. But it will be the truth, finally."

"Finally?"

"I never didn't like you back." Eddie said, wincing, as if he knew you were going to roll your eyes at the remark.

"Eddie don't-" You were going to warn him not to take the conversation down this path. If he wanted to talk through what happened that was one thing, but he seemed to just keep hurting you more each time he tried.

"No, just listen. Please let me say everything, and then you can take it however you want. Please." Eddie begged. He'd been begging you a lot, the past few days. He took the glasses off his face to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. You huffed a sigh and sat back in resignation, bringing your knees to your chest. Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he went on to speak up again.

"I've had a thing for you, like, this whole time. Like nothing I've ever felt for anyone else. But it was always easier for me to play it off like a joke, like we do. Because I always thought you deserved better. I've always been made to feel like such a dirtbag. I've never felt capable of much in life, you know how hard it was for me to even get out of fucking highschool. I never expected this band to get as big as it has. And even still I'm waiting for it all to blow up in my face. That's why, I think, I let myself get so caught up with all the fame. Because I've been so scared of this all ending. Of being the one to fuck it up." He laughed a little laugh, one filled with what seemed like disgust.

"All that to say that I don't think I'm any good for you, angel. I fucking love you. That's why I wanted you here. That's why I showed up to your room that night. I wanted to kiss you, because I love you. But I.... I did sleep with you to get you to stay... I'm a giant fucking dirtbag. I wish I would've gone about it in a totally different way. Sleeping with you, I mean. That I would've finally gotten the guts to do it because I love you, and not just to stop you from walking out the door. You deserve someone ten thousand times better, smarter, more capable than me. Always have. I'm so sorry I got you so caught up in all this bullshit."

As you sat and listened, Eddie broke your heart all over again with each new word. Flashbacks of the night you spent together bolted past your vision. Memories of the way Eddie smiled at you in that dirty old garage back home, and all the times he'd kiss the crown of your head before a show.

"How fucking dare you decide that you, exactly as you have been, exactly as you are, are not what I deserve." You sat up, letting your feet find the floor as you leaned in to meet Eddies eye. "You're saying we could've been something this whole time, you and me? And you bring me out here and you make me take care of you and you take me bed, and you still won't let me love you?"

"I-I know, I'm sorry I-" Eddies voice wavered and his eyes glossed over with tears, as realization set in.

"You stare me down while you let dozens of girls press themselves all over you, you stop me from hooking up with even one well meaning stranger. Then you fuck me and turn around and tell me you don't think I deserve it, so I still have no shot with you? Do you realize how shitty-"

As you let out your unfiltered frustrations, Eddie started to cry. The tears that had welled in his eyes fell as he kept his sorry gaze locked on yours, when he wasn't blinking hard.

"I don't know why I let this all blow up. Or why I was so scared to just talk to you about this before. I wish I could have gone about it differently, I do. And the thing is I really think I'm in love with you. And I know that I'm making you even more upset by saying all this."

"Well there is a big fucking difference between thinking and knowing." You warbled, your soul aching at the sight of Eddie in such distress. " You've got a lot to prove, if it's true."

"You... you would let me prove it? I haven't entirely fucked everything up?"

"Even if you have, I'm pretty in love with you, remember? Guess you're just lucky that I can't seem to help it. And that's all I meant that night. I wanted you to prove that you cared that I stayed. Not just that you wanted me to."

You talked for a while longer about how swept up in the lifestyle Eddie had become, and how he was living as if all this would end tomorrow. You reminded him that he'd gotten here by way of the very real talent and charisma he had, and no one could take that away from him. You reminded him he had an early morning radio show appearance and that he should get some sleep. And because of his big sad eyes you told him he could stay with you, if he kept his hands to himself. If he really loved you, you'd be more than a quick shag, like all the other girls. Like you were just two nights ago.

"I'm sorry for everything." Eddie stressed all the right syllables, and said so again with even more meaning. "I'm gonna do better." You let him curl against you and apologize himself to sleep as you pet back his hair and assured the guy it was all sort of okay. He had broken your heart, but you were starting to see the bigger picture now.

Despite the pain he'd caused you throughout the course of this tour, you recalled the Eddie you'd known so well before all the fame. You recalled the Eddie from the in between moments, when he'd break out of his stupor enough to make sure you were watching his guitar solos, to make sure you had enough room in the limo. You admired the Eddie at your side now, how you knew he meant what he said. How he'd come to you and stayed and said he'd wanted to stay.

And a tiny hope stayed aflame in your soul that this could actually all work out.

///

The next morning was a rough one, waking up from barely any sleep and being rushed to an interview before the sun rose was an odd form of cruelty. Corroded Coffin managed to look alive during an unplanned photo shoot that followed. You filmed a bit of their tried and true efforts to cause a bit of ruckus, as they posed.

Then came lunch. A small diner on a precarious mountaintop was an unexpected but welcomed respite.

"Black coffee.... four sugars." You glared at Eddie, presenting him the drink as he smile and you slid into the booth across him. You watched as Eddie tradded you a juice he'd previously ordered on your behalf, before taking the coffee mug in his ring clad grasp.

"You're good at it." He mused.

"Huh?"

"There was this girl in Munich. Bless her, she tried. She woke me up one morning with breakfast in bed. Asked me how I took my coffee, I told her. She did it. She got me black coffee with seven sugars. I was pretty disappointed ya know?"

"She gave you what you asked for, Ed." You laughed, a little confused.

"She didn't for one second screech about how unhealthy or gross all the sweet stuff was. She only brought me one coffee closer to diabetes and left me board without anyone to banter with." He laughed. "But you're good at it. Taking care of me."

You just grinned, racking your brain about the place you'd found yourself in. About how Eddie was speaking to you now, and what his words meant.

"Are mom and dad done fighting?!" Drew rang, balancing several plates of breakfast food, setting them on the table to join the booth you and Eddie sat in.

"We're working on it. I'm working on it." Eddie responded, looking right at you.

///

The birthday song boomed from the speakers of a stadium, as Ben sang to Lonnie on stage, leading the audience of thousands to join in. You were in charge of toting out a cupcake in honor of the singers celebration, handing him the dessert in front of several thousand spectators. In one hand, a cupcake, in the other, your camera.

You let your viewfinder pan across the roaring audience before focusing back on the band. Eddie had swiped a bit of icing from Lonnie's birthday treat with one finger for his own. Drew was signing the birthday song again, putting a vulgar spin on the lyrics before the singer insisted the show continue on.

You hurried off stage then, putting your camera away to enjoy life before your own eyes. After Eddie had played the band off stage one by one with a face melting guitar solo, he came bounding right to you. He planted an icing flavored kiss on your lips, a quick, affable gesture- before dashing back onto stage for an encore. He was doing a damn good job of making your head spin, these days.

///

Eddie's attention the rest of the tour, was fully yours. Between shows, he was still parting through crowds to offer you a bottle of Coke. He was still making sure you had a spot at shared dinner table, or dinner plans in general. But if you declined an offer or had to raincheck, you saw no one take your place at his side. He didn't give up.

Eddie left the groupies corralling together, batting their lashes best they could to seduce the guy into plucking one of them out of the buch to play a card game. But he didn't. He only waited for you to join, or left the spot meant for you empty.

"Dinner plans?" His voice wondered hopefully in your ear, as his fingers curled to hold your waist close.

"Lucky for you, Lonnie canceled on me again." You smiled with a roll of your eyes.

"I know, I told him to." Eddie grinned a wicked grin, grabbed your hand and led the way. "Come on kid, this is gonna be a good one."

When the limo deposited the pair of you back at the hotel, you were puzzled. Eddie just kept his mischievous smile and excitedly pulled you along in a rush.

His room was set up with candles and a room service cart full of finger foods and lots to drink. Eddie made a quick call and within moments there was a full bloody five course meal being wheeled into the room.

"Go on, dig in while it's still hot." Eddie nudge you to sit at the head of a haphazardly set, candle lit table, as he rushed around the suite in search of something. You watched as your dear friend set up his portable record player and started to pick through the stack of vinyl he'd bought at the start of the tour. He pulled out the record you'd chosen that long ago day in Monaco, and you couldn't hide your gaiety, giggling past bites of perfectly roasted veggies. You never dreamed there would be time for an evening like this, on tour, or ever, with Eddie.

The guy sauntered over to the table then, pouring you wine before helping himself to all the same things.

"So what happens for you after this tour ends?" Eddie wondered.

You shrugged, noshing. "I go back to the apartment, look for a job I hate less, I don't quite know." You talked about how you'd have enough money saved up from filming to quit your 9 to 5 and still live comfortably for a few months.

"Well I have two questions for you, then."

"Ask em."

"Will you be my date to the documentary premiere? You have to go, since you basically made the whole thing, and I have to go, since I am the star." Eddie boasted with a roll of his eyes that got you to chuckle. "I'd love to walk down that red carpet with you on my arm."

"Setting the bar high for future dates, making the first such a big event." You grinned.

"You can stay at the place the record company has me hooked up with, in L.A., that weekend. And if you wanted to, you could come house shopping with me."

"Is that your second question?"

"No, you actually have no choice there. I'll need your executive decision, picking between expansive Beverly Hills properties." Eddie winked. "My second question is, once we find the perfect mansion, why don't you stay there with me for good? The only way any place will ever feel like home is if you're there."

You gapped at Eddie, mid bite. How was it he kept surprising you? How was it your heart hammered harder every day for this silly little metalhead? How was it he was so fond of you all the while?

"There is nothing in Hawkins to do but work shitty minimum wage retail jobs and waste away. And with all your potential, opportunities are endless for you in L.A.... Plus, all your best friends will be living it up in the city of angels without their very own guardian angel. I'll be without you. And I find that all to be totally unacceptable." He pointed, finishing his plate. You watched Eddie speak, taking in every word as he said them, but not to think of your answer. The both of you already knew you'd say yes. You just wanted to soak up every meaning of the moment you lived in with Eddie, appreciate every detail of the way he'd asked you to continue living life at his side.

"I want you to live with me, and I want us to do this thing, and I want there to be an us."

"What's the dress code?" You chuckled, overwhelmed by his onslaught of hopeful interrogation.

"To our first date at the premier? Black tie, but make it metal. To our Beverly Hills mansion? Well, I was hoping there wouldn't be any at all..."

"Then I'm in." You grinned, giggly and wine buzzed. And with ease, you leaned across the table corner, reached for Eddie, and kissed him. He hummed sweetly, kissing you back right away. It wasn't long before he'd had enough of the space between you, tugging on your sleeve to pull you into the seat he sat in.

"You'll be mine, then? Officially and forever and ever?" He grinned, kissed you, and stopped to look in your eye as you answered.

"I've alway been yours, Ed. And I'll always want to be."

The guitarist pushed his lips against your again, moving to stand. He made sure you kept your legs linked around his waist as he rose, stumbling, as wine tipsy as you. Your shared giggles turned into laughter as he maneuvered the both of you to the bed. This was nothing like the first time.

Eddie asked if he could, before he slowly peeled away each of your layers. This was nothing like the first time.

Eddie took his time, letting his rings leave goosebumps in their wake. Letting his gaze fixate on your every curve, letting his eyes well up as he stared in awe of you, of the moment you were sharing together. This was nothing like the first time.

Eddie's fingers caressed your back as you took your time settling into his lap, your breath shuddered and your insides burned with want and your heart felt right at home. You knew this wouldn't be the last time. Eddie kissed you and promised a big future for the pair of you to share. Eddie rocked against you and promised this was your new normal. Eddie promised he was irreversibly and insanely in love with you.

You knew you're life was bound to change, when Tony called you, that day. But you never imagined just how much. You couldn't wait to dream up new realities with Eddie in the spotlight of every vision. You couldn't wait to watch them come true. Loving Eddie was easy. Eddie loving you back was music to your ears.

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #rockstar!eddie

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