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bizarrequazar · 9 months

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08-27 Zhang Sanjian/Scam Gang Recent Events Space

This was a Twitter space held to review recent events with the scam gang and Zhang Sanjian, as well as to address topic about fandom culture and likely reasons why Zhang Zhehan’s case is taking longer than many would hope. Notes are organized by topic, then by order presented in the space. [Recording]

KL concert and review of the Bangkok concerts

Another Zhang Sanjian concert is going to be held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia on September 17th. The previous concerts were held in Bangkok on May 10th and 11th.

Things seem to be operating fairly similarly as with the Bangkok concerts, though whalers are not rushing to buy tickets the way they were last time.

Tickets went on sale yesterday (08-26); ticket release seems to be similar, ie. not all tickets—including VVIP and the front few rows—are currently available. With the Bangkok concert, these held back tickets were partially due to the tour packages they were selling. I (the note taker) am not aware at this time of any similar tour packages with the KL concert, and none was mentioned in the space.

Quite a few of these held tickets for the Bangkok concerts were only released generally a week in advance. Part of this was because Xie Yihua had been working with scalpers who were trying (with little success) to sell them at roughly twice the original price. Flora and MB talked to one scalper separately who offered them both the exact same ticket for the Bangkok concerts that was being sold by another scalper, and blatantly lied about his own location.

Chinese citizens are able to get a travel visa at the airport when traveling to Bangkok, meaning that the short notice (announcement less than one month prior to the date) was less of an issue. The same is not true for Malaysia, visas have to be obtained in advance and tend to take a couple weeks.

The VVIP tickets included a backstage meet and greet after the show. With these, fans were not allowed to take photos themselves but were sent the photos by Zhang Sanjian’s team. These photos took weeks to arrive (likely due to the amount of editing done to the photos) and were quite low quality.

Zhang Sanjian was quite physical with fans during these meet and greets, with photos including his arm around their waists and fans reporting hugging him. This is completely inconsistent with Zhang Zhehan’s behaviour—the only time he would ever initiate contact was with children (and some fans would specifically bring his children for that reason lol.)

The tour group for the Bangkok concerts had not been in operations for quite a while prior but suddenly came back, did not seem to have any proper registration, and was run by someone with a gambling addiction who had had a number of complaints against him about him and his company scamming people, as well as employees reporting not being paid. Whalers who went on the tours admitted to being afraid to talk about it because of the amount of personal information they had given, but some who spoke said that they were not picked up from the airport and were taken to a place very out the way. Some of these whalers returned early (implied to be by their own choice.)

A direct business partner of CAPA is the producer for both the KL and Bangkok concerts. If, hypothetically, Zhang Zhehan caved and agreed to work with CAPA, why would they be doing these international concerts rather than rescinding their blacklist against him so he could work in China where it would be much more profitable?

Before the Bangkok concert, a number of bought articles in oversees publications were published, always saying that Zhang Zhehan had gone to the shrine without any clarifications about those allegations being false. This is the exact opposite of what any logical PR would do. The information for these articles and the similar radio blurbs given with the fake songs have been provided directly by Zhang Sanjian’s team.

Paid PR articles can be 100% made up. Sheena talked about a friend of hers who was hired to do a PR piece for a member of BlackPink and wrote the entire thing, questions and answers, herself, with the manager only reviewing it before publication.

Whalers have repeatedly reposted the various articles about Zhang Sanjian, blatantly blurring out the lines repeating the slander about Yasukuni and/or omitting it completely from their translations.

(A reminder to seek out information and confirmation yourself. Keep in mind that it is very easy for your own views to be manipulated by translators if you do not speak/read Chinese.)

The venue for the Bangkok concert was designed for conventions, not concerts, ie. there was no raised seating. It wouldn’t be surprising if this was done specifically so that people further back would only be able to see the screens rather than Zhang Sanjian himself.

Ticket prices for the concerts are ridiculously expensive, more than you would pay for even many A-list artists. One Malaysian tabloid paper ran an article talking about how expensive the tickets are, again including mention of Yasukuni with no clarifications. Comments underneath the Facebook post for it were filled with passersby questioning why someone they had never heard of was charging so much.

Money laundering

The article Flora translated on money laundering in c-ent

Basic economics: prices are set based on supply and demand.

Whoever is putting on the Zhang Sanjian concert clearly works in the industry, yet is charging enormously inflated prices. This makes no sense if the goal is actually to sell a large amount of tickets.

The main idea behind laundering is that you create opportunities to falsify and inflate sales records. The Bangkok concerts were clearly not sold out despite claiming to be.

The production for the concerts is not high: these are small cheap venues, there are no opening acts, etc. Another part of laundering is to claim that production costs were higher than they really were.

When your goal is money laundering, it doesn’t matter if you actually make money or not. Your aim is only to create records for the movement of money, preferably as large an amount as possible.

Thailand and Malaysia have looser regulations for moving money than China.

Changing currency is another way to make it easier to falsify records, as is the case if you are holding concerts internationally.

This is very serious. Corruption of high enough financial levels can receive a death sentence in China, and it’s not uncommon for whistleblowers of money laundering to be murdered. This is another potential reason for Zhang Zhehan to not speak out against the scam.

[my post of collected info about the Bangkok concerts]

The Chens

The Chen family in particular are really not smart about how they’ve been doing their sketchy business, given that they’ve been opening dozens of companies in their own names and the names of their relatives.

Flora suspects that the shell companies are more likely for tax evasion than money laundering. Their product releases have been tracked to see which company is responsible for each, and every clothing release is under a different one. This is likely to avoid hitting a higher tax bracket, and is literally the most obvious form of tax evasion.

The tea shop has been fined for other things (ex. unsafe food production, false advertising, etc.). These are pressing safety issues, unlike tax evasion.

It’s quite likely that the government IS aware of the Chens’ activity but that they aren’t a big enough concern yet. The longer someone is allowed to get away with something, the more bold they become, which is apparent in the Chens’ behaviour. Letting them get away with it now means that the authorities should be able to book them on heavier charges later.

To reiterate for the millionth time: Zhang Zhehan’s name is not on any of the paperwork for any of the Chens’ companies. The HZ Baobao brand is owned by Chen Ahyi’s boyfriend’s son and his wife, how is it there is any realistic connection there with Zhang Zhehan?

The main motive for the Chens’ involvement with the scam seems to be the money they are able to leech off of fans.

C-Ent politics

The unfortunate reality is that CAPA is very powerful in c-ent. For the people whose livelihoods depend on being in the industry, they have little choice but to cooperate. Xiao Chu, the screenwriter for Word of Honor, is likely an example of this—notice that she has not had any more projects despite the popularity of Word of Honor.

It’s important to remember that c-ent is a very different environment than what westerners might be used to. Keep in mind that, while we are international fans, we are in a Chinese fandom and need to try to understand how the significance of own behaviour might differ from in western fandoms.

Artists in c-ent have little independence and control over their careers, that power is held much more heavily by the companies holding their contracts.

Fandom is also VERY manipulated by capital. Planted fans are extremely prevalent for the purpose of increasing sales and traffic. Fan culture and endorsements are much more for important—a celebrity’s success hinges heavily on how they do in endorsements, not just their own projects.

Toxicity in fandom often is created and/or manipulated by a celebrity’s own company for the sake of increasing traffic. The celebrity might or might not be aware/involved in this—Gong Jun’s studio has done this.

Buying fans (ie. plants) or otherwise artificially inflating traffic (ex. water armies) is extremely common in order to create the appearance of popularity. Nearly every current big whaler has been found to be a plant, and some of the real big whalers were intentionally driven away early on, likely because the scam wanted to make sure they could control the fandom.

If you see a “big fan” loudly saying they’re leaving a fandom, often they were a hired fan and their contract is almost up. With Zhang Zhehan “fans”, notice that there is an uptick in these sorts of posts around August.

Virginia and Yajing

Virginia worked for Pulin, Zhao Wei’s company. When Zhang Zhehan worked for them, she seems to have sometimes accompanied him. She closely follows the Zhang Sanjian accounts and it is known that she’s involved in the scam.

When Zhang Zhehan lost access to his Instagram account for a while, Virginia was the one he thanked after getting it back (2020). It’s not known exactly what she did. The phone number the account is registered under is not Zhang Zhehan’s. The account was created for him while he was working under Yu Zheng, so it’s suspected that Virginia put him in contact with the person in possession of that phone number. The phone number was not changed.

Yajing is a livestream host who did a number of livestreams with Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun after Word of Honor’s success. She’s quite popular for having a non-threatening motherly vibe, and a fair bit of candy came from her livestreams with them.

In July 2022, Yajing posted a photo of herself wearing the EHz.Z slippers, then deleted it shortly afterwards because she lost a huge amount of followers. She has not said anything else related to this since. At the time people questioned if she posted it in ignorance, however, it is now known that she and Virginia follow each other online and have worked together multiple times in the past, including with stage productions funded by CAPA.

This again comes back to the topic of how powerful CAPA is. It might not be that Yajing and many of these other people have any malicious intent or ill will towards Zhang Zhehan personally, but they’re in a position where if they don’t stay in line with what CAPA wants, they could lose their entire careers. How many people would be willing to do that for someone they only worked with a few times? That doesn’t excuse their actions of course, but it does explain them.

Legal matters

People involved in legal cases (including jury) are advised to maintain Internet silence. This gained more public awareness recently due to a case of a woman whose daughter was killed oversees trying to seek justice, who was advised not to speak despite being slandered heavily by the accused. Kris Wu’s victims are another example of this. Speaking online easily complicates your case, sways public opinion, and muddies the story that you want to tell in court.

A major aspect of defamation cases are what the damages of the defamation were. Zhang Sanjian’s activities are a way of trying to sway public opinion into thinking he sustained less damage than he really did.

With that being said, have faith in the Chinese legal system—as stated above, the online culture is very extreme, but the courts are aware of this. As well, Chinese people culturally place a lot less significance on what happens outside of China (ie. the concerts and aforementioned articles.)

It’s important to keep in mind everything that has been discussed above about how corrupt c-ent is and how many different things are at play in the background. While on the surface Zhang Zhehan’s case seems like it should be open and shut, there are a lot more factors at play that complicate and prolong the legal process. What Zhang Zhehan is doing is extremely brave given the circumstances, and it’s obvious that he has not caved despite indications of them giving him opportunities to do so.

Misc.

A CPF was able to train AI within a day to change her voice—feminine and with a Northern Chinese accent—to Zhang Zhehan’s in real time, with the only significant noticeable difference being some of the Northern speech habits.

Ranyi Music was created in June 2021, before 813. One of the shareholders is one of the Chen Ahyis. She recently created a subsidiary company where Zhang Mama is listed as one of the executives. When creating a subsidiary, everything can be done remotely electronically, so likely all they would have needed to do was fake her signature. It is also known that they have a copy of Zhang Mama’s ID (as well as Zhang Zhehan’s and possibly Xiao Yu’s. This would be because the Chens were helping with things such as travel bookings prior to 813.)

The various online accounts of Ranyi Music were accounts repurposed from ones previously run by other companies (ex. the Weibo was for a company run by Xie Yihua’s brother.) Just because a social media company says it’s related to Ranyi doesn’t mean it’s actually registered to them.

Zhao Wei (Zhang Zhehan’s former boss)’s Instagram recently updated for the first time in a while. Flora et al. do not have enough information to speculate about this at this time; there is not currently reason to believe she’s involved in the scam. Some background: Zhao Wei’s husband is well known to be part of the Chinese mafia, and she has a number of connections to many other very wealthy people in China. Both she and her husband have been in legal trouble in the past, including at one point shortly after 813.

It’s hilariously obvious that the scam has been regretting trying to cut out CPFs via the divorce video (22-05-04): there was recently a fan group created for JunJian shippers, the Instagram post that used the 😺🐶 emojis, the concert video that showed Zhang Sanjian interacting with someone in an orange hat, etc. They’re very obviously trying harder to appeal to CPFs, likely because they’ve squeezed solo whalers dry.

Xie Yihua recently posted some photos from Tibet when she supposedly was traveling there with Zhang Sanjian and captioned it “Find Our Voice.” She quickly took it down because of how much whalers came after her for it, ie. they don’t like her “trying to leech attention off him” because they refuse to acknowledge that he’s a fake character created by her.

Whalers proudly talk about how they don’t go back and look at Zhang Zhehan’s old material anymore because of Zhang Sanjian’s narrative of “wanting to forget the past,” seemingly with no awareness of how obvious it is that that’s a ploy to make them not see how different Zhang Sanjian is from Zhang Zhehan.

Candy to lighten the mood

A reminder that during the Friendship Institute interview, Gong Jun said that he thought Zhang Zhehan had a cat, and Zhang Zhehan corrected him by saying “I also have a dog.” (Timestamped in the link.) Fans were confused about this because Zhang Zhehan is not known to have a cat. It has been found out that Zhang Zhehan used to foster stray cats. Specifically, it was discovered that he once took in a stray kitten that he posted pictures of in his WeChat friends circle, which is presumably what Gong Jun was referring to. Supposedly, this is the same kitten that Don’t Want to Be Anonymous posted pictures of. (Below, thank you to Harry for sharing these with me.) Given that some people in the scam gang were in Zhang Zhehan’s friend circle, this is not evidence supporting Anon—only that Anon at the least was someone who had access to his circle.

On the topic of Anon, it’s been noticed that Gong Jun has been posting scenery photos much more often since that account was shut down. Anon’s IP also always stayed consistent with Gong Jun’s location.

It’s worth noting that in the time that it was active, Anon never posted anything harmful, ie. unless it comes back and does something, there’s no harm in believing in it (with a grain of salt.) ❤️

Harry, Coya, and Zell are organizing a fandom event for the Mid-Autumn Festival! Stay tuned for more info! Harry has also recently been running a group for Russian Zhang Zhehan solo fans, please check it out if you’re interested. :D

[masterlist of my posts about zzh]

#Zhang Zhehan #Gong Jun #Word of Honor #woh cast #zzh info

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wordynerdygurl · 1 year

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Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 2: “Seek & You Will Find”

Author’s Note: Listen, this chapter- it’s a doozy! A whopper! In the words of our favorite Metalhead, a “Big Boy”! My endless thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for the sage-like advice. Couldn’t have gotten here without you! Seriously, I’m beyond thankful for your guidance!

Also, anyone want a playlist for this story? Lemme know!

If you need to catch up: Part 1 - Love is Blind Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Sized OC Amanda Patterson Summary: It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony. If only life were a love song.

When Amanda has a rotten rehearsal, Eddie finds a way to turn things around with the help of his friends. Is it possible that these two lost lambs have found someone to love?

Warnings: There’s some mild fat-shaming/ fat-phobia happening here. Lots of making out and references to 80s relics such as MTV VJs. Also, there’s junk food discussed and frankly, in my heart, I know Eddie is Twizzlers guy. No, it’s not up for discussion!

Happy Reading!

1990 There was no end in sight.

Chuck kept asking questions. Insipid and uninspired things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’ ‘Favorite food?’ ‘Favorite Soda?’

And every member of the band answered enthusiastically except for Eddie. He couldn’t seem to stop his brain train from running down a track towards self doubt. Why didn’t he just say that their new single was his favorite song? Name a tune from any one of the thousands that routinely blasted from his Walk-Man or stereo or car radio. Instead, like an idiot, Eddie had let his mouth speak for his stupid, stupid heart. The one organ that had no business talking out of turn. Not in front of the guys. Not to Chuck, the affront to fashion in front of him. Not to all of America once the production team edited the band’s responses together into a clip package that could be shown over and over and over in between music videos and commercials for Diet Coke. The unending false cheerfulness of the interviewer ground down Eddie’s normally thick skin, turning him sullen, moody. Of course, Eddie recognized that this could also be blamed on his bare honesty when asked a simple question about his favorite song. Was Chuck, the walking graffiti wall, really to blame? After all, the band had agreed to this list of softball questions. It’s just that Eddie hadn’t expected to be so honest. Hadn’t counted on sabotaging himself. And he was kicking himself internally for the over share. If anyone, including the doofus with his artfully styled mullet, realized how Eddie was feeling they didn’t acknowledge it. Everyone just sort of carried on like normal, especially Chuck who cleared his throat, barrelling onward, “Indiana isn’t really known for it’s rock ‘n roll. How did the band get started? What brought Corroded Coffin together?” “Oh, that’s easy!” Eddie felt the familiar hands of Gareth land noisily on his shoulders from behind, “Eddie and I went to high school together, started playing for fun in my garage. Next thing you know we’re here, getting ourselves on MTV!” Bless him, Eddie thought, a half smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Gareth took the heat off of him, answering a couple more of Chuck’s neverending inquiries, effectively easing some of the tension that had wrapped itself around the front man. It was nice, even if it didn’t last long. “Eddie, you’re a founding member of the group, the lead singer, lead guitarist, and primary song writer here. I gotta ask-” Chuck leaned forward as if they were close friends gossiping over beers, the fakeness of it making Eddie’s jaw clench, “-Is there anything you don’t do for the band?”

It wasn’t meant to be prying, Eddie got that. This whole thing was supposed to be cushy, simple, fun. Another great way to get the band in front of audiences who were demographically appropriate for their fan base. They had all agreed to sit down and promote the record, the music video, the tour they were opening for each night. Did Chuck, and by extension, America, really need to know that Eddie wasn’t looking forward to going back to Indiana? Was that part of his obligation? Putting his memories, his history, his heartbreak out there for everyone to look at in between Billy Idol’s new single and Madonna’s latest video drop?

Maggie kicked at his boot. It was a warning from his faithful head of security, a soundless reminder to play nice with the other kids. Especially since this was too big a moment to blow by being a pouty pants.

So Eddie did what he always did when he hated what was being forced on him by the institutions pulling his strings. He leaned into malicious compliance while mentally giving everyone around him, including his beloved Maggie, an imaginary middle finger. He smiled broadly, his laugh too loud. It was such a tonal shift that Chuck jumped in his seat, nearly frantic, “Eddie? Are you ok to continue?” Batting his kohl rimmed eyes at the poor man’s Kurt Loder before him, Eddie resigned himself to giving the producers a sound bite for the ages. “Yea, yea. Fine, Chuckie! What, uh, what don’t I do for the band? I guess-” running a ringed hand over the back of his neck, Eddie shook his head, holding his cheeks up through force of will, “-I don’t cook. Not anymore. Not since the uh, Grilled Cheese Incident of 1988.” The smile that Chuck flashed was pure, unadulterated Americana wholesomeness. It was a Donny Osmond, Crest commercial smile. Eddie hated it. Itchy from discomfort, he craved nicotine. Caffeine. Anything but sitting still in front of this dork who managed to keep his creepily perfect smile intact despite Eddie’s threatening to slip away. “Oh, ho! Sounds like there’s a great story there!” Shrugging, going for shyness, Eddie looked off camera, finding Maggie’s eyes below the lip of her scally cap. It was a line almost as hard as her smile. She was displeased but that gave Eddie new life. Message received, he nodded, resettling his widest, grossest grin onto his face, “Yea! Almost set fire to the hotel room in Atlanta by making a sandwich with the in-room iron. How was I supposed to know that toast burns under the wool setting? Am I right, Chuck?” A robust laugh from Chuck got the rest of the boys chuckling too, “An important lesson for the kids at home! And, speaking of the kids at home, I hear you and the band have a surprise for some lucky Indianapolis Metal fans in the new year, is that right?” Faking it in a tone of voice typically reserved for ill fated travelers about to meet their doom around the DnD table, Eddie grinned wickedly, “Oh, that’s absolutely correct, Chuck.”

“Care to tell us more, Eddie?” Raising an eyebrow and its sterling hoop with it, Eddie clicked his teeth, “Ya know what, Chuck, it’d be my pleasure.”

He heard Maggie’s eyes roll even if he didn’t see it for himself. —

1987

“Well? Are you really not gonna tell me?” Carly was staring through Amanda as if she could pull the information out of her brain by willpower alone.

Heat flared through Amanda, landing prettily along her cheeks as she shrugged, “Tell you what?” Snorting, just shy of angry, Carly’s wide set eyes bulged comically, “About the guy from the concert- Eddie? Yea. Eddie.” At the mention of his name Amanda felt a rush of shimmering excitement slip down her spine. Eddie. It seemed like that was all she thought about these days but Carly and the others didn’t need to know that little fact. In the two weeks since their concert in Hawkins, the band had taken a little time off for class work and work work. Amanda hadn’t seen any of them since that night. Clearing her throat, flipping through the sheet music in front of her, Amanda sighed, “Who?” She didn’t sell the put on bored tone, not to Carly anyway, who pushed back, “Uh uh. No way. I want details. All of them. Because that boy-” Carly’s voice turned wistful, “-was gorgeous. And he only had eyes for you.” Even though she knew this was all fact, Amanda still felt the need to self-protect. Shield whatever was growing between her and Eddie from anyone who might try and trample on the spring green bud of their romance because this was new for her, exciting. The heady rush of liking someone and having them return the sentiment had been so far out of her experience that Amanda found herself treasuring even the smallest of gestures from Eddie. Something her more experienced and frankly filthy friend would not be able to understand. And also, Amanda wasn’t entirely sure that she liked the way Carly got all glazed and gooey when she talked about Eddie. It made her feel protective of him. It made her want to keep him safe, and by her side, and away from cute, coquettish Carly at all costs. Stiffer than usual, Amanda turned to her friend, “Well, if you must know-” “I absolutely must! You practically disappeared with him.” Siddling closer, Carly’s voice dropped conspiratorially, “Mark was worried.” Snapping her head up, Amanda looked across the practice space to where Jim and Mark were chatting like normal, “He was?” “Yup. Thought something bad was gonna happen to you after you went off with a stranger.” “Um, ok, I mean, I was fine. More than fine, actually” The barest hint of a smile played out over Amanda’s lips, a phantom made of memory and moonlight and milkshakes. Carly smiled smugly, a knowing tint to her tone, “Oh, I know. That uh, hickey speaks volumes.” Reflexively Amanda rubbed a hand over the narrowly exposed lavender stain on her collarbone, biting into her bottom lip, “Shh! Not so loud!” “Please! Just, level with me, Amanda. How was he?” Wagging her eyebrows, Carly wasn’t going to stop until she heard all the sorted details, leaning over her keyboard with obvious interest, practically drooling. Rolling her eyes skyward, shutting them long enough to gather a thoughtful response, Amanda slowly leveled her gaze at her friend. Risking a sideways glance at the boys, she pushed closer to the almost vibrationally excited Carly, swooning like a cartoon princess, “He was wonderful.” “And?” “And what?” Carly huffed in frustration, “What do you mean ‘and what’? What did you do? What did you do to him? What did he do to you?” She was very emphatically implying that she wanted the meat of the story. The gory, bloody bits of what had transpired between Amanda and Eddie. Pieces that she wasn’t sure about sharing. Amanda though, was all too happy to play dumb, “Oh, well we went to the diner and had milkshakes and then-” Over eager, Carly cut her off with an excited flick of her hand, “Then you guys did it, right? Was it in that shitty van?” A confused look clouded Amanda’s face, “What? No. We uh, we did hold hands under the stars and-” “Then you did it?” Laughing at her friend’s crestfallen face, she shook her head, “We didn’t do it, Carly. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Groaning, Carly lightly shoved at Amanda’s shoulder, “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Why the hell not? He was clearly down for you and bad too. What happened? How come you didn’t-” Amanda watched as her friend made sure the boys weren’t able to hear them as she taunted, “-ya know, seal the deal?” Tilting her head, Amanda let her memories of that night fill her mind. Full of small touches that lingered and the scent of vanilla ice cream, the heavy taste of greasy fries and the sound of rumbling laughter from below. It had been perfect and complete, just as it was. After the diner, Eddie had driven out to Lover’s Lake, his hand never leaving Amanda’s, even when he had to flip the cassette tape. He had popped open the back doors, inviting her to sit beside him under a quilt that usually cradled his amplifier. Then Eddie started talking and Amanda found herself lost in the even cadence of his voice. And when he spoke about the last time he had been at the lake, about seeing things that hurt to remember, it was Amanda who threaded her fingers into his net of hair. It was Amanda that turned Eddie’s starry eyes to hers. It was Amanda who whispered, “I’m, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Amanda did all that, working from some intrinsic biological knowledge. But Eddie was the one who stole her breath under the moonlight. And when sitting up was too much work, keeping them too far away from each other to be comfortable, the cargo space in his van was the only witness to their necking. Humid kisses that scalded along the tender tension of Amanda’s throat. Tiny, closed lip smacks to the skin under Eddie’s chin where even stubble refused to grow. The unpracticed nip of his canine tooth tugging on Amanda’s earlobe, the ungainly groan Eddie uttered when she pulled his hair. No one knew about that but the van, the night sky, and the pair of them. She would have gone further. She wanted to, saying as much to Eddie in between ragged breaths and sugar spun sighs, but he shook the mop of curls that framed his flushed face, “Why buy the cow if you get the milk for free?” Protests started to form, Amanda’s mind ready to fight his logic, only to be subdued by another hot press of his swollen lips to hers. Eddie’s endless eyes searching hers in the starlight confessed, “Need to see you again, Mandy. If I- if we, well, ya know- then there won’t be much to look forward to.”

That wasn’t true. Amanda’s head and heart rebelled against the thought because could already think of a million reasons to see Eddie Munson again. Almost none of them had to do with getting him out of his exceptionally well fitted jeans. Almost.

And maybe she would have fought back harder against his denial if he hadn’t freely admitted his own need. Knowing that Eddie wanted more- another date, another chance to see her, another night shared under starlight, made the throbbing ache in her body a little bit easier to ignore. Amanda didn’t have to have immediate satisfaction, despite how much she may have craved it, when Eddie slurped hungrily against the fragile skin of her throat, marking her as taken. Oh, yea. Amanda could wait. It would absolutely be worth it. Eddie had pinky promised. But Amanda was not about to tell Carly any of that. Those were porcelain, precious pieces of her night with Eddie. She was holding them close to her heart but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give her friend something to chew on. Shifting an eyebrow up, a sly smile curving over her lips, “Um, Eddie didn’t- well, we didn’t need to.” “What does that even mean?” But Amanda didn’t get a chance to answer. Mark and Jim were ready to start the session which brought their conversation to a stop even if she knew Carly wasn’t going to let it go. “Later, k?”

Checking her watch, Amanda was surprised to see that their booked practice time was nearly up. It had been a good one, at least for her. Singing all those pretty love songs while thinking about a certain long and lean leather wearing guy who could kiss like a sailor on shore leave helped Amanda put her heart into every note. Not everyone in the band was having as good a night. All practice long Mark had been full of criticism. Carly was rushing the melody on one song, dragging down the rhythm on the next. He questioned Jim’s ability to keep up during a run through of “Fever”, citing the bassline as too easy for it to sound so bad. With harsh comments about late entries or off key starting notes, a scowl practically plastered to his face anytime Amanda looked in his direction, Mark was clearly going through something. Everyone was entitled to a bad day, Amanda had had a few herself over the years, but there was a meanness to Mark tonight that felt off. Wrong. There had been only one major critique from the stocky drummer about Amanda’s work this session, coming after the last note of Someone to Watch Over Me. Mark’s ruddy face was redder than usual as he tossed down his sticks, “Yea, yea, we get it. You’re desperate for love or whatever. Do you have to sound so, so, I don’t know, shameless when you sing it Amanda?” “I’m sorry?” “It’s like you’re begging for a man by the end of that song. Like you’ll take anyone home.” Carly was shaking her head, refusing to meet Amanda’s searching gaze, second hand embarrassment pinkening her cheeks. Jim couldn’t stop staring at Mark, his mouth hanging open, his fingers frozen on the strings of his instrument. Amanda shrugged, adjusting her microphone stand, “Uh, I sang it like I always do.” “Yea, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Mark’s too light eyes bored into Amanda’s, silently struggling to communicate something she wasn’t picking up. Jim cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, and diplomatically offered, “Uh, we’re running out of time, guys. Maybe let’s go over ‘I Can See Clearly Now’? Carly? Amanda? That sound ok?” Nodding, Amanda agreed quietly, flipping through her lyric book for the right song. Tossing her tight coils of hair, Carly nodded, squeaking out her reply without any of her usual playfulness, “Yup. Fine with me. Count us in Mark.” His sticks clicked together loudly, not bothering to count out loud for the benefit of his bandmates, not really acknowledging any of them, just jumping straight to the intro. It didn’t matter, they all fell into the tune, years of practice making it easy even if the room’s energy was still wasn’t. Mark worked the drums hard, without looking at his hands, instead watching Amanda like a hawk everytime she dared risk a glance in his direction.

A heavy, weighted thing, his stare followed her as she confidently started to sing over the other instruments. Amanda might have been unsure about whatever was bothering Mark, she may have been cautious about oversharing with Carly, but one thing Amanda knew with certainty was that she sounded good tonight. So did the band, despite what Mark had alleged with his prickly, nit-picking comments. So, despite how happy she had been with her own performance, Amanda was eager to get home where there was a hot shower and cold beer waiting. Beyond ready to put this bizarro rehearsal behind her, when Jim called it, Amanda wasted no time packing up her things. After all, Eddie would be calling soon and that was the wonderful thing to look forward to at the end of this long day. She was crouched down, wrapping up her chords and stowing things in their proper place, when Mark’s beat up Converse sneakers appeared in front of her. He cleared his throat a bit too loudly to get her attention, “Uh, hey Amanda?” Was this the start of an apology? God, she hoped so. And not just for her but for Jim and Carly too. “Yea?” It hit somewhere between disinterested and already engaged but still friendly, welcoming. Without shifting her focus, Amanda carried on, situating her things inside the case which held her microphone and not the drummer standing with his hands in the pockets of his corduroys. “Where- uh, where’d you disappear to? Ya know, after the show the other night?” Looking up at him, Amanda blinked purposefully, not confused by the question but by the need to ask it. “I uh, I went out with a friend.” Mark shuffled in place, dragging a hand through his close cropped hair, something clearly on his mind. Watching him war with himself was tiresome and before he could say anything else, Amanda reached out, “Help me up?” Dragging her to her feet like he had done countless times, Mark didn’t let go of her hand right away so Amanda pulled it back, cocking her head with a small smile, “Uh, thanks for the assist!” Still he was silent. Brooding. Fidgety and nervous, behavior that wasn’t normal Mark. Paired with his, frankly, shitty attitude all night long, it tripped Amanda’s emotional alert system. Something was definitely wrong. The sympathetic friend to all in need, Amanda breathed out a sigh, “Are you ok, Mark? You just seem a little-” She reached for his shoulder comfortingly like she would do for any of her friends. Only Mark brusquely jumped away from her touch, cutting through her comment in a harsh rush, “So, uh who’s the guy?” Stopping short, Amanda dropped her hand as if she’s been burned, cheeks flaming from the question. From the tone of it. From the implication it carried. Shaking it off, she countered with a question of her own, asking lightly, “From the concert? His name is Eddie.” “Eddie?” Parroting her answer, Mark let his eyes linger on something over Amanda’s shoulder, unable to look at her now. “Is he, like, your-” pausing, really working to dig out the word that he was reluctant to say, Mark finally settled his pained look on Amanda’s face, “-your boyfriend?” Was he? Labels hadn’t been discussed, it had only been a few dates after all, but Amanda felt connected to Eddie in a way that was difficult to describe. It was everything and nothing. Life changing but life affirming, too. So, was she Eddie’s girlfriend? Not in a junior high school dance sort of way. She wasn’t going to start drawing hearts with his initials on her notebook or anything like that, but she also couldn’t deny that they were linked. Bonded. Fated. And Amanda felt all of that, her fingers brushing over the discolored skin at her edge of her blouse as evidence of her connection with Eddie, but what she said to Mark was, “Yea. I- I think he is.” Curious stares from Jim and Carly followed the exchange happening smack in the middle of their shared practice space. Their heads swiveled between the drummer and vocalist, not wanting to miss a moment, as Mark added hotly, “You think? What the hell is that, Amanda? Is he or isn’t he?” That tone was new. She couldn’t think of a time when Mark had been anything less than complimentary, kind. Until tonight, anyway. Now he was tight lipped, clenched hands at his sides, the shoulders of his Rush t-shirt nearly grazing his ears. Facing him full on, Amanda straightened her spine, a pinched purse to her lips, struggling to keep things smooth. Easy. And feeling her way around the enigmatic energy that Mark was putting out. “Well, uh, I, I met him at work. Yea, must be a couple of weeks back. He plays guitar and came in for a score book. I was uh, putting up flyers for our show and, he, ya know, came to see us.” Scoffing at her, his voice raised, Mark’s already white skin was stained scarlet in hot patches along his throat and face, “A random guy? A, a stranger? You just, I don’t know, talk to men you don’t know and, like, invite them to see you sing?” Flinching, Amanda tilted her head his way, clarity coming all at once, “Are- are you mad at me, Mark?” “Yea. Hell yea, I am. I’m fucking pissed. You, you just disappeared with some long haired dude out of the crowd like it was no big deal. Not a word about where you were going or, or, when you’d be back.” Stepping closer, voice dropping to little more than a whisper, Mark reached out a hand to rub along the sleeve of Amanda's sweater, “I-” he swallowed audibly, “-I was worried about you.” Oh. That made some sense, Amanda figured. Mark was looking out for her, keeping an eye on her. Protecting her. Fiercer than needed, maybe, but protecting her just the same. It was kind of nice, even if it was entirely unnecessary where Eddie was concerned. A friendly grin filled her face, relief replacing Amanda’s anxiety, “Mark! That’s like, super sweet of you, but honestly? Eddie is so-” giddiness welled up inside of Amanda at the thought of Eddie. It turned her smile into something dreamy as she gushed, “-he’s so-” Biting into her bliss, Marks’ bitterness sliced into Amanda’s sentence, “So what? Huh, Amanda? What does this guy do? Where does he live? What do you even know about him?” Amanda wasn’t used to being on the spot, not like this and never with an audience made up of her friends. It was nearly an interrogation and every time she offered a response Mark was there, waiting, with words to try and trap her. “I know enough, Mark. I know that Eddie’s been a perfect gentleman. That- that he’s kind. Gentle.” “Gentle? Gentlemen don’t bruise girls like that.” He pointed at the purple splotch peeking from under her collar as if it were evidence of some kind. Tugging her shirt closer, embarrassed heat roared through her, “That’s- that’s private. It’s not what you think.” “It’s hardly private, Amanda, when you parade around here, showing it off for all of us to see.” Squaring his stance, Mark looked down his freckled nose at her, questioning her the way a furious father might, “Did- did he hurt you?” The idea of it was so absurd that Amanda laughed directly in Mark’s face. “Hurt me? No. No, Mark. I- I wanted Eddie to uh, ya know-” bashfully, she let her sentence and its implication go unfinished. God, it was so difficult to talk about this stuff when her buddy and bandmate looked so irrationally mad. Furious. Frighteningly so. She had thought, perhaps naively, that he would be happy for her the same way Carly had been. In that teasing, ball-busting way that friends were supposed to support each other when a new relationship was starting. It had never occurred to Amanda that Mark, or anyone, really, would be pissed about Eddie. “You, you wanted that? From a guy like him? I just don’t understand, Amanda.” There was another layer to Mark’s voice this time, something closer to sadness than she had ever heard before. Hurt. That was the sour note, the discordant jangle, which flattened all the words that left his mouth. More confused than ever, Amanda swiftly switched into comfort mode, a place that was more than familiar. After all, her’s was the dependable shoulder that people cried on and she put that emotional muscle memory to work, soothing, “Mark, it’s ok. I’m ok, really. Eddie, he’s a really great guy and, yea, we’re still getting to know each other. This, this thing with Eddie and I- it’s brand new and like, yea, I- we have a good time together. I fully plan on having more good times with him. He’s just like, really sweet and thoughtful and-” “Enough, ok. I get it. I just, I don’t know, never figured you for someone who’d get hooked up with some townie trash. It’s stupid, Amanda. Dumb.” Carly’s eyes went saucer wide and Jim physically winced at the heated words Mark flung at Amanda. This was the first time any of them had argued over more than a late entry or repeating a chorus too many times. This was serious. “Townie trash?” Sputtering, fury filling all the available space in Amanda’s body, she couldn’t actually believe what Mark had said about Eddie.

“You don’t even know him!” Shrill and thin, Amanda was nearly hollering now, unable to keep the anger bottled up. Tears gathered in her eyes, not from sadness but from the cruel unkind things Mark kept tossing her way. Braver than he had any right to be, Mark took a step forward, cold eyes narrowing sharply, “Do you even know this guy? Know who he is? I do. I asked around, Amanda. He’s a fucking drug dealer for one thing! And someone told me that he, like, barely beat a murder charge years ago. Murder, Amanda.” Waving a hand in front of her face as if she was trying to erase the terrible things coming out of Mark’s mouth, Amanda snapped back with a hiccup in her voice, “Well, he told me all about it. Unlike you, I got my information from the source.” Scoffing, Mark rolled his head to the ceiling as if he was struggling to make a toddler understand, “And you think he told you the truth? Amanda, come on! You can’t really-” “Really what? I can’t really like a guy who used to sell dime bags in the woods of his high school? I couldn’t possibly be into someone who told me he had a reputation, told me that, that he had been through some seriously bad shit?” She had gained ground as her rage swelled with the need to defend Eddie from Mark, glaring at someone who should have been on her side, should have been excited for her and instead was berating her. Amanda’s heart was heavy from it when she asked, “Why do you even care? What does it matter to you, Mark?” Mark took a tentative step closer, crowding into her personal space as his voice dropped lower trying to capture Amanda’s line of vision, “I think you know why.” “Mark-” “Amanda. Come on. You can’t not know, right?” “Know what?” But in saying it, Amanda realized exactly what Mark was trying to say through all his clumsy blustering. Something that he had been struggling to say wordlessly for a long time if she looked at it through the prism of Carly’s revelation. Although, it still didn’t account for Mark’s not acting on any of his feelings in a meaningful way. And in that second Amanda was furious at him anew. At all of them, really. Because it was becoming more apparent that Carly and Jim had known about the depth of Mark’s feelings without ever once letting her in on the secret. Even now, she had to watch as Mark stumbled through his admission, a nervous hitch in his throat that made the normally stoic guy sound small. “That I- that I’m into you, even though I shouldn’t be. Ya know?” Carly sucked in a breath. Jim groaned and looked around the room for an exit. Amanda blinked dumbly. “What did you say?” A cocky grin, starting small, started to spread over Mark’s freckled cheeks. “Look, I know that you’re a, a bigger girl, and like, your choices are limited. Most guys wouldn’t want that, but-” he was reaching up to tuck a strand of Amanda’s hair behind her ear when she jerked her head away, “-Amanda, I do. I want you in spite of that.” All at once the room was too small. Too hot. And Mark was standing entirely too close. Again, Mark made to touch her, forcing a rough whisper out of Amanda, “Don’t.” “But, Amanda, I just told you that I-” Shaking her head, Amanda took a huge backward step, kicking her microphone case, “Stop! Please, Mark. Stop. Don’t, don’t say anything else.” Her breaths were short, not enough air making its way into her lungs, and Amanda could sense the racing of her pulse. Worry was late in arriving on Mark’s face but when it had, he reached out a hand, only for Amanda to bat it away, “No.” Carly was in front of her then, “Hey, Amanda, you need to breathe, alright? Gotta take a deep breath for me, k?” Nodding her head, Amanda let herself be led to one of the metal legged chairs that was stacked near the door of the rehearsal space, Carly crouching at her side. From a distance she could see Jim talking to Mark, a hand on the drummer’s chest, and managed to puff out an apology, “I’m- I’m so sorry, Carly. I’m so terribly sorry about this-” Friendly fingers squeezed Amanda’s, “Hey, none of that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re ok. You’re good. Just a little upset is all.” Amanda closed her eyes, focusing on the inhales and exhales until she no longer felt a hitch in her sternum. When she looked up again, Mark was gone and Carly was handing her a paper cup of water, “Jim, uh, well, he told Mark to take a hike.” A wet giggle burst out of Amanda and she drank greedily as Carly went on, “How ya feelin’? That was, shit, Amanda, I’m so sorry. Because that was wild.” It was late enough that no other students would be looking to get into the practice rooms, something that she was grateful for, since Amanda knew that she was a mess. Tears and hyperventilation took a toll, not to mention the stuffy nose crying had created. There was no way she could face anyone else but Carly just now. “Carly?” “Yea, babe?” “Did Mark really-” She didn’t finish her sentence. Didn’t think she could, really, when the recollection of all that had been said filtered through her head. Carly seemed to know that too because she sighed heavily and nodded once.

Carly eyed her cautiously, rocking back on her heels, testing the waters slowly, “Look. Mark went way over the line tonight. He’s clearly-” “Don’t defend him, ok? Please, Carly.” Amanda rubbed her temples, a throbbing headache making its presence known, “I just don’t understand. Why would he say those things?” She struggled to condense her thoughts into meaningful words, words that made some sense, but came up lacking. Something her friend picked up on. “Hey. I’m on your side here, Amanda. And I’ve been telling Mark to talk to you for a while now. It’s what you deserved, ya know?” When the singer didn’t respond, Carly nudged her gently, “Wanna go get drunk? Pour some sugar in Mark’s gas tank? Order five dozen pizzas to his frat house?” Swallowing down some more water, feeling more in control of herself, Amanda’s weak smile met Carly’s, “Thanks, I- I think I need to get out of here. Feed the cat, maybe call Eddie?” A slow grin grew across Carly’s friendly face, it was a knowing thing, but full of sweetness, “Uh huh. Of course. Maybe he could come over and make you feel gooooood!” The way she drew out the vowels made Amanda laugh, feeling lighter at the idea of seeing Eddie, “Maybe.” Carly pushed up on her knees, standing quickly, “Well, I imagine he could help you relieve some stress, is all I’m sayin’.” Heat crept through Amanda at the insinuation but she didn’t reject the idea outright. Perhaps her little friend had a point. Perhaps there was some comfort to be gained by having Eddie wrapped around her. When Carly offered her a hand, Amanda took it before pulling the girl into a hug, “Thanks for hanging around.” “It’s the least I could do.” “Still, I’m so embarrassed about all this, Carly. I can’t-” A firm shake of her head silenced Amanda, “No. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Mark should be. He’s the asshole here.” Agreeing numbly, Amanda grabbed her case by its handle, almost out the door when Carly called, “Amanda? Are you going to be here next week? Like, are you going to come to practice?”

She already had her answer ready, as much as she didn’t want it to be true, “Uh, we’ll see. I’ll- I’ll have to let you know.” A long look passed between the keyboard player and song bird. Carly bobbed her head once, “You call me, yea?” “Of course.”

____ Eddie was clingy, ok? He knew that about himself. Always the last person to let go during a hug, never in a rush to pull away, Eddie realized he had the potential to become a human sized barnacle, given the chance. And it wasn’t just physical. He craved reassurance from any and everyone, returning it in equal measure. Check in calls from Nancy or Robin, a drop-in at Family Video during every one of Steve’s shifts, dinners at the Henderson house each week, Corroded Coffin practice and, on rare occasions, a performance. It kept Eddie connected to all of the little sheep in his flock. But Amanda was something different, wasn’t she? A woman who lived on her own, went to school, went to work, went to band rehearsals and was content with making her own way. So independent it worried Eddie because he wanted her to depend on him. Yea, Eddie was clingy and protective and he had a hard time not showering those he loved in his affection. People who knew him, really knew him well, understood his blanket of affection. For new faces though, it could be a lot. Eddie could be a lot. And he’d had more than one relationship end before it began because of his smothering, suffocating, face hugging alien level of attachment. This time, Eddie vowed that wasn’t going to let that happen. He had a plan. A campaign for himself, with the end goal of winning Amanda, heart and soul. So, he had told her, flat out, that he, Eddie Munson, was an all or nothing kinda guy.

It was over the phone, the morning after the concert, because Eddie also didn’t have great impulse control. He’d just laid it out in plain English; he liked her. Alot. He liked talking to her and he liked kissing her even more. Because he wanted to continue doing both things, and not lose sleep over it, Eddie proposed some guidelines. Graciously, grandly, his Amanda agreed to one phone call a day. A check in, usually after dinner or a night shift, depending on the night, where they both unloaded the day’s events into the sympathetic ear of the other. It was one call a day, yes, one call that usually lasted four or five hours, a fact which couldn't be laid entirely at Eddie’s feet. After all, it was Amanda who refused to hang up first. Said it made her sad to say goodbye, which was just about the sweetest thing Eddie had ever heard, since most people couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. Now they ended their calls with “Night, Night” as if they were children taking a nap at daycare or something, instead of nearly full grown adults who desperately needed sleep before heading out to work or school. That was if they even remembered to hang up at all. Wayne had come home on at least two occasions to find Eddie asleep, cradling the receiver to his ear, snoring away. When he heard a matching set of heavy breaths on the other end of the phone, Wayne got the picture clear enough, telling his nephew to try and rehang the handset, if possible. No need to keep the line engaged and stretch the cord like that just to fall asleep together. Amanda had giggled at that, promising solemnly to try and avoid any future overnight calls, despite how lovely it was to listen to Eddie sleep. And the romantic in Eddie ate that shit up. It was the stuff of legend. And shit, did Eddie want to be legendary for Amanda. It was the heartsick, love hungry guy in him who had different ideas about what counted as romantic and that underfed goblin wanted all the rules thrown out of the window, even if they were ones Eddie had insisted on. That green and greedy bastard who lived in his heart demanded longer conversations. It didn’t want to wait until Friday night or Saturday morning to see Amanda, with her soft curves which he had recently discovered looked just as lovely in flowy dresses as they did in tight jeans, making Eddie thank a god he didn’t believe in for the hard work of the Jordache company.

No, the already attached barnacle, the needy slice of his personality, wanted to wake up every morning with arms, soft and warm, curled around him. Amanda’s arms. And it required a goodnight kiss from Amanda’s sweet lips, no longer satisfied with a whispered wish of sweet dreams through the breaking, beige knot of curling cord that stretched tightly from the trailer’s kitchen to his bed. But Eddie was trying to deny that feral critter. He had to or the damnable thing would take over his body and mind, saying or doing something stupid, way too soon for either of them to be comfortable. Something that might spook Amanda, something that he might regret.

Because Eddie Munson wasn’t ready for this thing with Amanda Patterson to end. To be over. Not so soon. Not when there was still so much to see and do and talk about together. Gnawing on his already shredded cuticle, Eddie worried at his nail, mind going as fast as a Hetfield guitar solo and twice as loud. If he really let himself break it down, Eddie supposed that he could charge the over eager attachments he formed with all creatures in need, great and small, on his lacking, slacking parents. Wayne, the best man in Indiana and possibly the world, had gifted him with stability as a kid. A much needed anchor in the swirling sea that was young Munson’s life until that point, but even the patient grit of his uncle’s love couldn’t quite scrape away the sticky residue of being leaveable. Of being left. Of being easy to walk away from.

Eddie did not want to think like that, he didn’t. Because he had worked hard to keep those idle thoughts out of his brain. But like an invasive plant, they managed to crowd his mental garden, taking over whatever good seeds were sown in love or friendship.

It was the kudzu of bad thoughts that he liked to blame for driving a wedge into all of his important relationships, blanketing the peace and happiness that he craved with waxy green leaves that choked and strangled in their desperate climb towards the light. Sure, he fought against it. Hacked away at it bit by bit, and in time, some love had taken root. And yea, he could thank the people who put in the time; Wayne, Dustin, Robin and Steve, hell even Nancy Wheeler and the Hellfire guys. But, credit where credit is due? Those connections flourished in the sandy soil of his heart mostly because Eddie was one helluva gardener. That reminded him, he should put killer plants in his next campaign, Eddie thought quickly, grabbing for a napkin and Sharpie marker that he swiped from Family Video, “Little fuckers won’t see that coming.” It struck him right then. As he was tucking the now defiled and scribbled upon tissue into his vest pocket, Eddie realized just how lost he was for Amanda. Knew with a fatal certainty that his heart was planting seeds with deep, thirsty roots. Growing a field of wildflowers for a woman he’d known, what, two weeks? Only, if he was honest with himself, he knew it was a lost cause at the diner when they kissed over vanilla milkshakes. Maybe he knew it before then, Eddie considered, teeth toying with his fingernail now. From the second they met, her impossibly amazing eyes catching his own as Amanda grabbed him, holding on for dear life, instead of tumbling to the ground at his feet. Or, most likely of all, when that voice of hers dripped like honey, wrapping Eddie in a smothering blanket of loveliness that he still hadn’t been able to shake off. Yea, he nodded to no one but himself, the sound of Amanda’s singing had pulled him under like a mermaid mirage and he had gone willingly into the deepest end of the ocean for just one more note. And that is why he was breaking his own rule about waiting until the weekend.

Because when Amanda had called after tonight’s practice, her normally full and pleased voice was tight and thin. Because when Eddie asked what was wrong he heard the two breaths she took and could picture how her brain flashed from keeping him out of it to letting him in. Because when Amanda told him she’d had an awful night, Eddie gave the only answer he could, “I’ll be right there.” Now, despite the lateness of the day, Amanda was running into a gust of autumn air that tugged her hair wildly and scoured her cheeks raw. Passing in front of the van’s headlights, she paused just long enough to smile at him, lit up golden against the India ink night. Eddie returned the look, leaning over the console to pop open the door, welcoming his girl, as she surely was in his mind anyway, into the warm van, “Hey gorgeous.” Before he could retreat to the driver’s seat, Amanda’s cold hands were tugging against the patched denim cut, keeping him on her side of the cab. Lips that Eddie dreamed about pressed to his own and as much as his manliness might want to deny it, he groaned against her mouth, pleased at her wanting him so recklessly. There was something else in the kiss that Amanda greeted Eddie with, something bitter, something sad, and it shook him up to realize that she’d been crying. That’s why he slowly pulled away from her upturned face, his ringed right hand curling to match the curve of her cheek, “Mandy, is- is everything ok?” With shining eyes and her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, Amanda shook her head, nearly sobbing, “No. Nope. Not even like a little bit.” “Oh baby, I’m sorry.” Letting her forehead lay against Eddie’s, his coarse curls curtaining them both, Amanda inhaled heavily, “Not your fault, just, stupid shit but, well-” Now she looked up at him with a trembling bottom lip and shiny trails over her cheeks making Eddie’s thoughts jump between murderous anger at whoever did this to his girl and comforting marshmallow softness for the pain she was in.

He settled on an encouraging head nudge, urging her to continue, “-I think I have to leave the band.” “What?” Her sigh was a wretched, wet thing and Eddie saw the effort it took for Amanda to steady herself, closing her eyes as she repeated, “I’m not going to be in the Indiana Four anymore. I, uh, I have to quit” The last word cracking through a shallow sob. A million questions flooded Eddie’s brain. This was a big deal. Huge even. And Eddie wasn’t about to make it worse for Amanda by asking any of them out loud right now. Swallowing his own need for clarity, Eddie brushed his thumb across Amanda’s bottom lip, his personal favorite, and hummed, “Hey, hey, you’re ok. I got you, baby. It’ll be alright, yea?” Amanda didn’t answer in words. She merely scooted closer, her arms threading under Eddie’s, hugging him tightly. It was a few seconds before the fresh wave of tears dried up and all he did was hold on despite the damp spot on his shoulder. Like all storms do, it passed, and when it had, Amanda sighed heavily, “I’m so sorry-” “Shh, I don’t care. I just- damn, Amanda, I, like, hate seeing you so sad. It’s breaking my heart, baby.” “Don’t- don’t say shit like that, Eddie.” “Why not? It’s true.” Swallowing thickly, wiping at the twin tracks of dampness on her cheeks, Amanda huffed, “‘Cause you’re gonna make me cry again!” “Ok, ok. I won’t say anything nice to you right now.” There was a hint of mirth in his voice that he prayed Amanda would notice, a softening that Eddie was desperate to offer his lady in distress with the hopes of cheering her up a little. Sniffling, she tilted her head in that tell-tale way, biting her bottom lip to halt her half smile from growing, “Thank you for your, uh, understanding.” “No problem. It’s good to know, for like, the future. Mandy’s sad? Don’t be nice. That’ll only make it worse.” Giggling despite her heavy heart, Amanda playfully pushed against Eddie’s chest, her nose stuffy from crying, “That’s not what I said.” “Well, that’s what I heard, sweetheart. And, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at being not nice, so I think this arrangement is going to work out just fine.” Now he was openly teasing her, grateful to see that she was fighting back. It meant she was feeling better and Eddie’s heart soared for knowing he was helping. Those eyes. The ones that pinned Eddie in place, making his breath catch in his throat, were locked on to him when she said, “You’re pretty nice to me, so don’t sell yourself short, Munson.” Leaning in close, the console be damned, Eddie let his nose graze hers, “Hmm, you’re pretty and that’s nice, Miss Mandy.”

Humming, Amanda rested a palm against Eddie’s cheek, “See? That’s what I mean. You say the sweetest things.”

“What can I say? Maybe you bring it out in me?” Shaking her head, Amanda snorted out a short laugh, disbelieving but flattered all the same. Still, Eddie wasn’t entirely surprised when she changed the subject, “So, thank you for coming over. For coming to get me. I just-” her shoulders dropped as she deflated after a deep exhale, “-I want to forget about today.” Shyly he peeked at her from under the flap of fringe that hung haphazardly over his eyes, “If you wanted to, ya know, talk about it, I’m all ears Mandy.” And he saw the struggle behind Amanda’s eyes, the way she tipped her head, thinking it through. Eddie wondered if there would ever be a time when telling him about her day might be a natural, easy, thoughtless thing. Because that’s what he wanted. He wanted to be the person she ran to, good or bad. But as they sat in her building’s parking lot, the van’s motor idling loudly, Amanda biting the inside of her cheek, Eddie saw the moment she decided against sharing. Saw how she blinked away unshed tears before swallowing shakily. Watched the way she tossed her head, like she was clearing away some bad thought or another. Damn it, she’s too pretty to be sitting so far away.

“Uh, I- I appreciate the offer, Eddie. But maybe-” “Hey, I’m here whenever you need me. You know that, right?” Her head dropped, focused on her fingernails, Amanda’s voice small as she answered, “Yea. Yes. I know that, Eddie.” Taking her hand in his, Eddie squeezed it firmly, happy when she lifted her lovely face his way. “And, just so you know, I am gonna make you tell me all about it, Mandy. Just yet, if that’s ok? If you can hold onto it for a little bit longer, I uh, I think it’ll be worth it.” “Sounds like you have a plan, Ed.” A tentative smile, damp at the corners, broke through the mask of pain she was carrying. It felt like a gold medal win to Eddie.

Of course he did. Eddie had already spent too much time thinking about how to spend this stolen night with Amanda. He knew what his body wanted, what his brain wanted, but now, it wasn’t the time for all that. There was another option, something different, something social. But only if Amanda was up for it. “Yea, maybe? Maybe I do. Might be more of a distraction. Dunno if it’ll work yet, but it's worth a try.”

“Just want to be where you are, Eddie. That’s all.” And even though she was resting her head against the seat with her eyes shut, he still felt like she was watching, waiting. For him to deny her, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

So, Eddie did what came naturally, pressing a kiss to her forehead, one to the very tip of her nose, “Sounds good to me, Miss Mandy.”

The radio was on low, barely audible over the van’s heater which was working really hard at filling the space with warmth, but all Eddie could hear was Amanda’s tiny moans of relief that ebbed out of her with every peck. Somehow that made her lighter, unburdened, as he kissed lightly over the features of her face. He was starting to think that he was the cause of that small, satisfying sound. And Goddess above, but he wanted to hear it again. Soon Amanda was leaning into the palm of his hand, being petted like a contented kitty cat, soft and warm. He hated to do it, disrupt the peace, but he was going to need both of his hands to drive carefully enough that his precious passenger side cargo was safe. Though it went against all of his instincts, Eddie subtly lifted her chin, waiting for those eyes to flutter open, finding him in the pale dashboard light. This kiss was firmer, fiercer maybe, and Eddie allowed himself to steal a bit more of her taste with every pass of his tongue. If he was trying to wipe away some of her heartache and take it for himself, so what? Amanda didn’t object. It was the opposite, in fact, because her petal lips parted giving him the green light to kiss her properly.

With his tongue moving slowly, rhythmically, his hands cradled the back of Amanda’s head, her hair tangling under his touch. She tilted, attempting to offer him the exposed column of her throat, but Eddie held firm, steady. He wanted- no, needed, to show her how much he could care. Eddie took control and Amanda let him. Pouring his feelings into her like he could fill her up, refreshing what today had wilted, Eddie carefully, consciously, guided Amanda with gentle hands. Tipping her head back, swallowing her shallow whimpers, he damned the way his van was built. It kept him from getting his hands on her the way he wanted to and the denial was frustrating. She felt it too, her own hands flexing, uselessly, unsure of where to touch Eddie. The sounds Amanda made, music in their own right, became higher pitched, whinier, the longer Eddie limited where and how she could move. Entirely at his mercy, when she melted into him, a strangled sob, “Eddie, please.” it took all the willpower he possessed to keep his ass in the driver’s seat. Breaking away was hard but Eddie was harder. He couldn’t help the raw want that Amanda created in him. She was vulnerable, open and she was here, with him. Letting Eddie Munson kiss her, touch her, talk to her. The seeds in his heart were sprouting already.

Still, if he didn’t stop now, they were going to be late. And Eddie would hate for Amanda to make a bad first impression. Reluctantly, he thumbed at her bottom lip, his fingers lifting her chin, “I’m sorry, sweet thing, but we have to get a move on.” Petulant, Amanda huffed out her short lived displeasure. Her lids were heavy against the heightened color of her cheeks. Eddie hadn’t thought she could look more beautiful, yet, here she was, begging him for more without making any noise. It would have been much too easy to pull her to his chest and never let her go. Battling with his greedy gargoyle, Eddie shook his head, giving Amanda a shy grin, “Sit back, huh babe? And, here-” leaning across her, Eddie snagged the shoulder belt, pulling it snugly over Amanda, “-lemme get you buckled in.”

“Ok, yea. Thank you. Ya know, for everything, Eddie.” There was no fight in her now, just comfortable compliance while she let Eddie baby her a bit. She was still riding a wild combination of elation and heartbreak, Eddie knew that, but he couldn’t help staring at the pretty girl in his front seat. Linking his hand with hers, squeezing her fingers, “For you, Mandy? Shit. I’d do anything.”

—

Amanda was dreaming. She was so sure that what was happening couldn’t possibly be real life, because her life wasn’t like this- full of secret smiles and silly in-jokes. Tiny touches that bordered on too much, lingering kisses that were definitely not enough. This had to be someone else’s life. Only, when she pinched herself, the vibration of pain was real. She had waited approximately ten seconds to call Eddie once she'd gotten home from the disaster practice, flinging her bag off in a huff and collapsing onto her tragically broken-in couch. Even Armando the Wonder Cat knew to steer clear, his one good eye looking her over before deciding to retreat into the bedroom. Amanda couldn’t blame him. The waves of despair, anger and sadness kept rolling over her. So, for ten seconds she deliberated. Make the call or don’t. Dial him up or wait around for his nightly call. And she only let her mind go for ten seconds because Amanda was not the sort of lady who put their problems on other people. Her life was entirely the opposite, really. She held the secrets of the folks around her, burdened with their picadillos and problems like an emotional pack animal on a mountainous trail. Having learned through painful trial and egregious error that sharing her own worries was too much to expect in former friends, Amanda didn’t want to unload a no good, terrible, horrible, very bad day onto a guy who she’d only been seeing for what, two weeks now? Still, she needed someone to hear her side of the story. To commiserate. To sympathize with where Amanda was coming from and validate her choices. To distract her or make her feel better, hell, maybe both?

Plus, she reasoned, Eddie was very easy to talk to, something he proved at the diner and during every conversation since then. That alone was enough to pick up the handset and circle the dial. Sure, her fingers nervously drummed along the tattered wool plaid of the couch’s arm as she waited through ring after ring after ring, but the reward was hearing Eddie’s mid-range rumble when the receiver connected, “Big Ed’s House of Horrors! We scare because we care! How can I haunt you tonight?” He sounded so happy. So full of life and warmth and all the lovely things that for an over long second Amanda couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t, knowing that she had the power to put out his beautifully blazing fire with the rain cloud of her shitty night. “Amanda? Is that you? Are you ok?” There was genuine worry in his voice and that cracked through the fog of her self doubt. Shaky but forcing herself to sound light-hearted, she managed, “Hey Eddie.” Eddie was not buying what she was trying to sell, because he sounded even more upset when he asked in a rushed tone, “What’s wrong, babe?” “Just-” pausing to drag in a ragged breath then another, Amanda barely managed to keep the sob inside herself, “-a real shitty day.” “I’ll be right there.” She hadn’t even had to ask him. Eddie just came. And when she was inside his van she thanked him with her mouth, parted and plush, feeling herself relax just being near him. Taking charge, Amanda gladly relinquished her head and heart to whatever Eddie Munson had in mind. Settling back into the seat, she felt the press of his fingers against her own, happy to be in this place with someone who was just for her. Only for Amanda, utterly and entirely. She didn’t ask any questions when Eddie pulled away from her place, the van rattling down the familiar streets of town. His music played, the volume lower than ever before, but Eddie’s hand never left hers, grounding them together. There was no conversation but it wasn’t weird. It was nice, calming really, and Amanda willed all of the day’s tension out of her shoulders as Eddie drove. They’d taken a turn or two, sliding onto the main drag where Family Video and the arcade flashed their glowing signs. Sensing the van slowing down, she turned Eddie’s direction, “Um, we getting groceries?” When he said he had a plan, Amanda hadn’t anticipated a trip to the market, which must have shown on her face because Eddie chuckled and lifted their knotted hands so that he could brand a kiss onto her skin, “I’m on snack duty.” “Snack duty? Snacks for what, exactly?” Sheepish now, the fringe of his bangs made those wide brown eyes look rounder than usual, “So, you can totally say no, I know you’ve had a shitty day and I don’t want to make it worse. But, it’s just, well, my friends and I, we kinda have this weekly tradition. We get a movie, some junk food and, ya know, hang out.” “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to like interrupt your plans-” Waving a ringed hand in Amanda’s face, Eddie stalled her sentence, “No, no. Don’t. It’s not like that.” Swiveling in his seat to make sure that Amanda was really looking at him, he carried on, words falling out of his mouth faster and faster, “See, we- uh, this group of people, we’re like more than friends. They’re sorta my family? “And, we’ve been through some shit together. Real bonding type stuff, right? So, Harrington, who you’ll meet, if you want to come, which I really hope you do- anyway, Harrington is like, hey let’s do this movie night thing and whoever can come comes and if you can’t, it’s no big deal. “Only, he never buys the good snacks. It’s always microwave popcorn and M&Ms and shit, but no sour cream and onion chips? What’s that about? And, sorry to say, but I’m a Twizzler guy and Robin, uh, yea, she’s so cool, you’re gonna like her, but like she brings Red Vines. Red Vines! So, yea-” And now that he was running out of steam, Eddie seemed to realize just how long his tirade had gone on, embarrassment tinting his cheeks pink in the glow of the store’s lit up sign as his always moving hands dropped limply, “-We need snacks, good ones, hence the grocery store trip.” Amanda had never heard anything so heart warming or chaotic in her entire life. He wanted her to meet his friends, no, his family. Grabbing for him, Amanda let her fingers notch between his, “Does that mean I can get some Goobers? ‘Cause I sorta love chocolate covered peanuts.” Watching the dimples of his smile deepen was becoming one of her favorite things, so she wasn’t disappointed when Eddie’s grin widened, “Oh, absolutely you can.” It didn’t take long to march along the aisle loaded with bags of tortilla chips, assorted tinned dips and packages of cookies. By the time they reached the check out, the basket Eddie had resting on the bend in his elbow was overflowing with rubbish treats and a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew, something he insisted was essential, before grabbing a Kit-Kat bar with a shrug, “For Robin. She’s picky.” His thoughtfulness shouldn’t be so surprising, but Amanda was continually amazed at the small gestures that came naturally to Eddie, like remembering to grab someone’s favorite candy bar. No, he seemed perfectly content to spoil everyone he knew, including Amanda. Anything that she dared to look at during their shopping spree somehow found its way into the purchase pile, which explained the box of Cookie Crisp cereal, sack of rainbow marshmallows and family size bag of pretzel twists which Eddie insisted on paying for, “Hey, lemme do this, alright?” “But there’s no way we’re going to eat all this, is there? Is there?” Amanda was half horrified, half hopeful at the prospect. Clicking his tongue as he handed off a wad of cash to the vested cashier, Eddie leaned into her ear, husking low, “All this and more, Mandy. Wait ‘til you see what Nance and Jonathan roll up with, it’s wild!” He did let her carry one of the bags, the lightest one of course, because Eddie wasn’t a jerk. Though he did bump against her hip with every step they took towards his van, the brown paper sacks rustled as she squealed playfully, “Eddie! Jeez!” “What? Is it my fault that you can’t seem to walk in a straight line?” “Hey, I can walk in a line!” “Coulda fooled me, sweet thing.” It was a comment dripping with flirtatious energy as Eddie loaded their purchases into the back giving Amanda time to eyeball the man in front of her. Frankly, she was mesmerized with how his body moved. The way his leather jacket sleeves rode up, revealing loops of chain that formed a bracelet around his wrist, a black bat, one of many, flying just under the cuff. It was striking. Something about how those hands looked so rough and raw, calloused from guitar strings, nails split from over washing because getting the grease off is hard on delicate skin. Yet, for Amanda they were also achingly gentle. Eddie’s touch was quiet, calming, even if the man doing the touching was normally a riot of movement and motion. She was so lost in the small things that made up Eddie Munson that Amanda didn’t realize he had crowded into her, the inside panel of the van’s backdoor digging into the space between her shoulder blades, those clever, distracting fingers grazing her waist. Amanda could say something. She could tell Eddie exactly where her wayward brain had wandered, but he already seemed to know. His look clouded over into something darker, duskier, and it caused the muscles in Amanda’s belly to tighten reflexively. Normally so smiley, Eddie’s jaw was tense, his breathing short. It made her think about a hungry animal that’s found its dinner, just waiting for the right second to snap their jaws shut. “Eddie?” But it’s barely a whisper. She didn’t need volume to be heard when he was standing this close, those narrow hips of his resting against her own, pinning Amanda in place.

Dropping further into her space, his nose brushing her own, “Yea, Mandy.”

Her palms skated over the busted leather of his belt, fingers hooking into the loops and tugging Eddie closer. Notching her head higher, Amanda let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a whine, licking over her lips, “Will you-” “What do you need, pretty lady? I’ll give you anything you want. Promise.” And god, he smelled so good, Amanda ground her pelvis into his, panting now, “Kiss me, yea?” “Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” Only, it didn’t end at kissing. Not tonight when Amanda’s mind was overloaded from worry and sadness, her body ready to take charge. Her fingers latched onto the denim vest he always seemed to have on, wrinkling the heavy fabric with her grip, needing Eddie closer and closer. Needing him inside of her where the wounds of everyday living threatened to rupture, bursting Amanda apart at the seams. Eddie’s arms posted over her shoulders, giving Amanda the chance to wrap her hands around his forearms, as he let his lips travel from her mouth to the hinge of her jaw. Biting gently at the sensitive skin there, he licked against her ear, making Amanda shiver. Deeper than she’d ever heard, Eddie grumbled, “You just taste so sweet, Mandy. Like a cupcake or some shit. Makes me think-” Sounding more than a little possessed herself, she answered innocently, “Think about what, Ed?” “How your body tastes.”

Said body reacted on instinct. Her thighs squeezed together and the breath caught in her lungs making her stutter dumbly, “Uh, wh- what?” His swagger was in full swing now that he was free to move outside of the van’s front seat. Grin showing too much teeth as Eddie looked down at her like she was on the menu, Amanda’s heart beat wildly at the idea that she just might be. “Get a room, pervs!” A shout from across the parking lot made both of their heads swivel. Eddie, shielding Amanda from anyone’s view, answered, “Go fuck yourself dickhead!” “Nice language, asshole!” From behind his shoulder Amanda heard the slam of a car door and a rapidly firing engine. The unwelcome interruption peeling off into the autumn night. Unable to suppress her giggle, Amanda drew Eddie’s attention back to herself, “Maybe they have a point?” “Yea, Mandy? What’s that, huh?” Looking around at the nearly empty parking lot, the bright lights beaming down in organized rows, she shrugged, “This isn’t really the best place to uh, get all, ya know, romantic.” Standing too close, breathing her air, Eddie pushed a shock of hair behind her ear, “I may have an answer for that.”

Who knew Amanda Patterson would love kissing in a rusting out van so much? Meeting Eddie’s scalding mouth with her own in a space smelling of motor oil and boy sweat, trying not to kick over the bags of groceries they had recently bought, Amanda considered this a sacred space. Holy. A moving monument to the feelings she could feel growing steadily stronger every time she was around Eddie.

Feelings she was nearly desperate to explore further, her hand trailing down Eddie’s back, dragging him tighter by the belt loop of his jeans. The leather was worn in, soft and supple, as she traced his waist before gripping the cooler metal of his handcuff buckle. A firm hand gripped her wrist, foggy breath unfurling against her cheek in playful pants, “Mandy? Whatcha doin’?” “Don’t you want to-” looking up at Eddie’s sweat damp skin from under her lashes, Amanda cooed her question, “-ya know?” A groaned laugh forced Eddie’s head back, his neck exposed, and Amanda didn’t hesitate to put her lips on his Adam’s Apple, sucking lightly. She could feel every inch of Eddie where his hips straddled her wide thigh, the thought making her throat dry as she mewled, “‘Cause I want to- I want you, Eddie. Please?” “Fuck, Mandy, of course I want you- want to do it. Just-” rolling onto his back and taking his warm hands and pink lips with him, Eddie stared up at the exposed metal roof, chest pumping quickly, “-not here, ya know?” Leaning up on her elbow, fingers spread wide over the expanse of Eddie’s chest, she nodded, accepting his comment quietly. And he must have recognized the bruising brittle texture of her silence because he sat up, holding her hand over his heart. “Baby, you have no idea how much I want- how much I need-” but the sentence trailed off as Eddie dragged Amanda’s palm lower, lower, lower, the hard heat of his desire undeniable. “And that’s because of, of me?” Wispy, the whisper carried over the thinning distance between her mouth and Eddie’s ear. Amanda sounded almost unsure, like she didn’t entirely believe it. Like she couldn’t believe Eddie might want her as much, in the same ways that she did, only to find out that she was dead wrong. The evidence was stiff and throbbing below her. Groaning when her fingers reflexively pushed against his straining length, Eddie gritted through clenched teeth, “Yes, Mandy. And it’s like this all the time.” Giggling, feeling a bit powerful from the knowledge, Amanda ran her nails over the stressed denim, nipping at Eddie’s collarbone through a smile. He bucked his hips into the friction, an embarrassing sound breaking from the back of his throat, “Fuck- I think you’re tryin’, tryin’ to kill me, baby.” Shaking her head ‘no’, biting her bottom lip, Amanda tipped her head like she did when there was a question worth asking hiding on her tongue, “You really do want to- with me, I mean?”

“Uh huh. Someplace nice. Soft. That, ya know, smells better than my dumpster on wheels.” Eddie gently shifted them both so they were sitting up, shoulders knocking against each other in the stillness of the grocery store parking lot, not looking at each other, but still touching. “I- I wanna make you feel special, like how you make me feel. And this-” Eddie’s hand waved at the dented walls, “-isn’t special enough. Ya know what I mean?” Her head fit perfectly into the notch between Eddie’s chin and his shoulder. Laying there, his heartbeat below her ear, a leathered arm around her back, Amanda agreed with a hum, “It’s more than ok, Eddie. It sounds pretty freakin’ great, actually.” A sweaty press of his lips to her forehead precedes the air stealing one armed hug that Eddie trapped her in, their combined laughter filling the cool cargo space.

— They were late for movie night anyway. Not by hours, but late enough that Robin was practically pacing the hallway at Harrington Manor, “Where the hell have you been, Munson? Dingus here was worried!” “Worried? No. No way. And you’re the one who was pacing by the door, waiting for a Kit-Kat, not me.” Steve’s response came from deeper in the house, maybe the kitchen, and it sounds defensive against Robin’s obvious and erroneous assertion. Eddie knew it was all an act though. Robin liked to fuss over him and Steve liked to fuss along with her. It was part of being loved by this motley crew of fantastic people, having a mom and dad who were actually years younger, but cared with all their hearts. “Uh, sorry? I had to pick up a stray.” God, he loved the reaction that got. Stopping dead still, Robin’s bright eyes flared comically, “You- you brought someone to movie night? STEVE!! Get in here!!” “What? What happened?” Steve slid into the foyer on socked feet, knocking into Robin clumsily, worry lines etched into his handsome face. “Munson has a date.” Her tone was playful, an ashy eyebrow lifted in cartoonish glee as Robin grinned at the metal head still standing in the doorway. Steve’s head whipped toward his friend, luscious locks flying, all traces of fear erased. In their place genuine curiosity bloomed, “You do? Uh, you did? Tell us man! Who is this mystery date?” “Can I put this shit down first?” He felt Amanda’s fingers tense in his grip, Eddie’s posturing keeping her out of view for another few seconds while he balanced his two bags of junk food. “Nuh uh. Spill the beans.” “Don’t listen to Robin man, give me that.” Steve swooped in, taking one of the bags from Eddie’s arms and moving back down the hall to give everyone a little more room. It allowed Eddie to pull Amanda forward, her natural shyness keeping her wrapped snugly around the taller guy, as he tried to get past Robin without dropping anything. “Guys, this is uh, this is Amanda Patterson. Mandy, these are my um, obnoxious friends, Steve and Robin.” “Hi.” Smacking Eddie’s arm loudly, Robin practically squealed, “Eddie! She’s so cute! You’re so cute! Are you sure you’re with this guy?” “Ouch! Hey Buckley, I’m standing right here and can totally hear you.” She just rolled her eyes, grabbing Amanda by the arm and dragging her towards the palatial dining room, away from where Steve was unloading the treats Eddie had delivered. Eddie let her pass, flashing a small but encouraging smile in her direction as Amanda was yanked away, Robin’s mouth already going a mile a minute with questions and quips. He already missed her. “So?” Steve was leaning across the marble countertop, his elbows supporting his weight as he stared smugly at his friend. Grabbing for a glass, Eddie answered over his shoulder, “So what, Steve?” “How long has this-” he moved his hands between Amanda, caught up in Robin’s web and unable to get away, and Eddie, “-been going on?” Obviously, there were going to be questions. Eddie knew that and thought he had prepared for the inevitable interrogation that bringing Amanda to movie night would inspire. Still, the dramatic demon that lived inside of him wanted to drag this out, really savor the moment where he did what so many of the people around him thought was impossible: bring home a girl. So, Eddie took his time filling the glass with ice and slowly opening the electric green bottle of soda, keeping an even gaze on Steve the entire time. Only when he was satisfied with the fizzing head on his drink, did he slurp down a sip, shrug, and answer, “Uh, like two weeks now I guess.” “Two weeks!” It wasn’t shouted, but it was as close as Steve could get before drawing Robin’s attention. “Yea?” “Well, were you gonna tell us about her? About your girlfriend?” Girlfriend. The word alone conjured up images of high school dances and misguided make out sessions under the bleachers. But was there a better word? Damned if Eddie could think of one. “I just did, Steve.” “No, like when? When were you going to tell us that you met someone?” Stretching back, Steve took another good look over Amanda, now pouring a bag of Doritos into a dish on the dining room table, before adding with an appreciative air, “A very pretty someone with a great butt-” “Hey. Eyes on me, Cassanova. You’re my friend so I’m gonna give you that one, but that's the only time I wanna hear about you looking at Amanda’s ass.” Surrendering, Steve lifted his hands with a smirk that was too handsome by a mile, “Fair enough. But like, what’s the deal with Mandy? You guys really a serious thing?” Eddie let his hip carry his weight, shifting so he could spy on her and Robin, “Yea. Yea, man. I think we are. Remember that uh outdoor concert thing?” When Steve nodded, crunching around a handful of pretzels, Eddie’s stare met his friend’s, “I went for her. I mean, I had already bumped into her at The Music Shop and she told me about her show, so- I went.” “Aha! Henderson told me there was a girl involved, but then, you never said anything. Figured he was full of shit.” Eddie’s hair shook as he laughed lightly, “Nope. Kid was dead on with that. Anyway, I’ve sorta been seeing her ever since that night.” Once more, Steve’s eyes traveled from his old friend to Amanda and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see that her own gaze was locked on the leather and denim clad dude already adding more Mountain Dew to his glass as if Eddie was a knight from one of those novels he loved so much. He knew the look. Steve had been on the receiving end of it more times that he could count, speaking volumes silently and boy, was he happy for Eddie. “Wow. That’s- shit, man, I’m happy for you.” “She’s totally amazing, Harrington. I-” nervousness crept into the older guy’s voice as he peered down at the beige tiled kitchen floor, “-I don’t want to fuck it up.” Smooth and slick, Steve swung around the island counter, elbowing him roughly in order to get his full attention, “You won’t man. You won’t.” “You sure about that? Us Munson’s do have a way of-” “No. No way. I’m not gonna hear that shit. The only Munson you are connected to is Wayne, and he’s one the best men I’ve ever known. He took you in, after all.” and when he saw that his joke had landed, Steve bumped Eddie again, “You’re my friend, man. You deserve good things.” “Shit, why do you have to say stuff like that?” “What? You get choked up on me?” “Nope. Never.” But it was clear that he had. Something about Steve pointing out that maybe, just maybe, Eddie Munson was good enough for a girl like Amanda made him believe it too. “Good. Hey, Mandy? What kind of movies do you like?” With a wicked grin, Steve picked up a bowl of popcorn and headed straight towards Eddie’s girlfriend. — Robin Buckley could talk. Thankfully, Amanda was an immaculate listener. The entire time that Eddie stood by the large stainless kitchen sink, Robin was rambling, moving from one topic to another seamlessly, stopping just long enough to draw breath. But, honestly, it was refreshing. Amanda found that she had things to add to the tirade that flowed constantly, asking her own questions here and there, including, “How long have known-” “Eddie? God, years. I mean, we went to high school together, but then, Eddie was in high school way longer than anyone should ever truly be. He told you that, right?” without waiting for a response, Robin carried on, “Anyway, I knew Stevie first. We worked together at the mall, slinging ice cream and busting balls. Then, well, some shit happened but he and I became platonic life partners and have remained entirely co-dependent since then.” “And Eddie-” “Oh, well, Eddie joined our group a bit later, but hey, ya know, the more the merrier. Honestly, he’s just the best guy, ya know? Of course you do, obviously, you’re like dating him or whatever. Wait, are you dating?” There was a longer pause this time as it appeared that Robin was actually expecting an answer, so Amanda dipped her head, a pleased pull on her lips, “Yes. Yea, we are. We have been since-” “Good! I mean, he’s been by himself for so long. Not like, alone alone, more like just solitary, ya know what I mean? Steve, he meets girls all the time and-” she rolled her eyes at the romantic debacles of her buddy, “-is still searching for his soulmate or whatever, but Eddie, he’s just been biding his time. Maybe-” This time Amanda cut in, “Maybe waiting for the right woman?” Snapping her fingers, Robin grinned broadly, “Yes! Exactly!” She felt the weight of Eddie’s eyes and turned to find Steve looking her way. And yes, Amanda wouldn’t deny that he was a pretty boy, all swooping hair and fine features, but she could honestly say that he wasn’t her type at all. At least not anymore. Now she wanted something rougher. Untamed. Wild and free with a deep soul. Amanda wanted Eddie Munson. Swallowing, she willed her mind to refocus on Robin’s rambling, but Steve interrupted, calling out, “Hey Mandy, what kind of movies do you like?”

“Uh, Oh, well, I like all kinds really.” “Top three, go!” It was Robin’s favorite way to vet new people and Amanda felt like it was a test, one she didn’t want to fail for Eddie’s sake. “Ok, wow, um, Casablanca, that’s like a classic.” Robin and Steve shared a happy glance. It was obviously a good choice and a sign of Amanda’s excellent taste in movies. But she was into more than that and thought it about for a second, nibbling on her bottom lip before adding, “I really liked Caddyshack, if I’m being honest.” Steve gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Robin wrinkled her nose. Apparently comedy was a dividing topic. “And, shit, I guess I’d have to say Star Wars. But, like all three of them. Princess Leia is a total badass.” “Oh my god. She’s perfect.” There was awe in Robin’s tone as she made her declaration, staring at Steve with her hands clasped to her chest. Agreeing with a tilt of his head, Steve grinned at Eddie, “Absolutely and totally perfect. Munson, you have to like, I don’t know, marry her. Right now. If you don’t-” Eddie stepped further into the room at that moment, his arm curving protectively around Amanda’s waist, his voice full of friendly warning, “Do not finish that sentence, Steve.” “I’m just saying!” Eddie pulled Amanda closer and she let herself tuck into his side, cheeks hot from the insinuations of his friends. Still, she couldn’t help sassing back, “What makes you think we aren’t already married, huh?” That stunned the dynamic duo into shocked silence and despite knowing that they weren’t related, the look on their faces was so similar that Amanda could have sworn Steve and Robin were siblings. “What?” “No way!” Simpering, Amanda looked up at Eddie, “Do you want to tell them, darling? Or should I?” Those damn dimples deepened, a clear sign that Eddie was on board with her plan for messing around with his friends. Both of his arms twined around Amanda, dragging her as close as possible and his impish gaze never left her eyes, “Yea, ok, Mandy. You’re right, honey. We should just tell them everything, right?” “Uh huh.” She lifted up on her toes to press a small kiss to his cheek, snuggling into Eddie’s embrace and really selling their ruse. Turning to face a silent and still Robin and Steve, Eddie cleared his throat, his tone pitched to seriousness, “You guys-” looking at Amanda who nodded reassuringly, he carried on, “-you should know- what first class suckers you are!” A shower of tossed popcorn met their announcement as Steve yelled, “You shit head! I- We, like, really believed you! Both of you!” Robin’s face had gone over red, her loud laugh echoing around the well appointed room, “Shit, Eddie. That was a good one. You two- you’re both troublemakers, aren’t ya?” Groaned out laughter filled the space and Amanda put her hands up in surrender, “I couldn’t help it. You guys were just asking for it, but like, sorry if it was too much.” “No, Mandy. It was, ya know, right in line with the sorta crap Munson’s always pulling.” Steve gently shoved his friend, adding, “Any chance he has to make things memorable, he’s gonna take it.” “Hey, it was her idea! I just ran with it. So-” bowing deeply at Amanda, Eddie grabbed her hand as he straightened up and kissed her knuckles, “-bravo, my lady. Well played.” And the theater kid that lived dormant inside Amanda preened, “Why thank you, sir. Twas nothing.” “Jesus, Robs, there’s two of them now.” “Yea, how are we gonna live through this?”

— Jonathan and Nancy arrived shortly after, equally as excited to meet Amanda, and carrying a sack of homemade cookies from Mrs. Wheeler along with two large pizzas. Catching Amanda’s eyes from across the room, he nodded their direction and mouthed silently, “told you so.” Shaking her head as she bit into the fat of her bottom lip, Amanda handed a plate over to Robin, asking for a slice. Even at a distance Eddie could feel the thing that tied them together. Connected to each other despite sitting on opposite sides of the room, he found that anytime his face sought hers, he found it. Smiling, laughing and once even spitting soda from her mouth after one of Steve and Robin’s Scoops Ahoy stories got out of hand. Now, Nancy was almost interrogating his girl in the very specific way she had, making every question seem like it was going to be on the midterm final. Jonathan had offered a thumbs up when Amanda wasn’t looking, a small gesture that Eddie appreciated for its simplicity. Steve was playing host, enjoying running around and refilling drinks for everyone while Robin was doing her best to distract him from blatantly staring at this ethereal creature who was full of sweet smiles and thoughtful inquiries to the people he loved the most.

It made Eddie feel grounded, right, having her here with these guys. Friends who had seen him at his very best and very worst. That they liked her as much as he did was the cherry on top of his sundae. And they even managed to keep the theatrics to a minimum, opting instead to settle in for movie night instead of sharing shameful stories or flipping through awkward photo albums from days gone by. Honestly, it was a bit of a relief. Tonight’s movie selection was in Harrington’s hands and they were out of vetoes, so his choice was unchallenged per the rules of their friendship. And while not everyone was over excited to see One Crazy Summer, as a group they all loudly agreed to give it a chance. Eddie didn’t care what they decided to watch, he was only interested in Amanda.

Eddie was all too aware her day had ended on a sour note. When he suggested that she come to movie night he was half certain that she would say no, not wanting to be out when she was feeling so low. But what he was discovering about Miss Amanda was that she trusted Eddie. If he thought a night with his friends was going to be worth it, then she was all in. Not once had she mentioned her band. Not once had she made the conversation about her and her troubles. And she could have, absolutely, because his gang of goofballs were the type to sit through long winded explanations and offer the best advice possible. Goddess knows Eddie had used their free therapy sessions on more than one occasion. But Amanda had, instead, seemingly let go of the hurt and the pain in favor of being here, with him. She shrugged the worries from earlier off, along with her jacket, and made herself at home on the Harrington sofa. Pressing herself small against the left arm with one leg folded underneath her and ample space next to her on the cushions. Eddie could tell that she expected him to sit at her side. Had planned on it, actually. But Jonathan was already pulling Nancy into his lap, taking up the middle seat and Robin had staked her claim, draping herself over the other arm of the sofa. Steve was slipping the tape into the VCR, blabbing about how the movie blended animation and live action, and how cool that all was when Eddie dropped to the floor at Amanda’s feet. “Hey?” It was softly worded one syllable question that asked so much more. Shrugging, but smiling up at her, “I don’t mind the rug.” “You sure?” She asked because she clearly wasn’t and Eddie liked her even more because of that. “Uh huh.” Flattening his back to the couch, Eddie tipped his head up, his face framed by those wild locks. He was tall enough to let his cheek lay against the warm width of her thigh, his arm wrapping around her calf. Unable to sit still, Eddie’s fingers traced words and shapes into the exposed skin of Amanda’s ankle, a mindless movement that was rewarded with a breathy exhale from his girlfriend. After Steve plopped into the armchair, grumbling about being boxed out of the comfy couch, the opening credits rolled. There were some chuckles as the narrator started talking about fuzzy bunnies and love, so Eddie wasn’t entirely paying attention to Amanda, beyond the supple sensation of having her so close. But then he felt her fingers running through his tangle of curls.

It started at the ends, Amanda twirling a strand or two around her index finger before letting the spiral unravel, only for her to do it again. Then she was raking back the soft tendrils, almost petting him like a shaggy dog, and it took all of Eddie’s self control not to start drooling like one. He was barely holding it together, the grip on her ankle tightening, until her fingernails dragged over his scalp. The tender touch sent electricity pulsing through his body, all that energy landing in the most conspicuous location making him squirm. Eddie felt it was only fair to return the favor, letting his warm palm ride higher under the hem of her jeans, sometimes using the rough edges of his fingernails to apply added pressure. She didn’t move away, in fact, it seemed like Amanda sought out more of Eddie’s barely there brushes, wiggling closer as the movie progressed. By the time the credits rolled on Demi Moore and John Cusack’s happy ending, Eddie’s head was laying in Amanda’s lap, her leg draped over his chest. Robin was asleep, had been since somewhere around the mid-way point of the flick, but then, so was Jonathan. The awake members of the party looked at each other, stifling a giggle. “I don’t know how she does it. Robin can sleep through anything, I swear.” Her platonic life partner ran a rough hand through his hair, looking down at her fondly. Nancy nodded at their slumbering friend, “Yea, but she’s cute and quiet when she’s knocked out.” Amanda leaned over, hoping only Eddie could hear her, and whispered, “Uh, think you can let me up for a trip to the ladie’s room?” “Nope. Sorry. I’m too comfortable.” And Eddie managed to snuggle in tighter, hugging Amanda’s leg to his chest, his cheek at the bend of her knee. Her giggle was quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb the sleepers as she drawled, “Don’t make me laugh! I have to pee!” Of course, that made Eddie cling all the harder. Groaning at the precious public display of affection, Steve butted in, “I don’t want any accidents in here Munson. Let the poor girl up.” “Fine. Fine.” It was reluctantly said as he rolled to the side, giving his girl the chance to stand up. She used the top of his head as a ballast, steadying herself, as she asked their host, “Uh, which way?” Steve pointed down the hall, following Amanda’s retreating form with his thirsty eyes before turning to Eddie, “She seems really great man, like way out of your league.” A snort from the couch let him know that Nancy was also listening in, so Eddie tipped his head in that direction, “What? You agree with Sir Steve?” “Actually, no. I don’t. I think she’s kinda perfect for you. And honestly, it doesn’t matter what I think.” That made Eddie sit up straighter, already on defense, “Well, I was hoping to bring her around more and if you guys don’t-” “No, you misunderstood me. It doesn’t matter what I think because it’s pretty obvious.” Eddie exchanged a befuddled glance with Steve who shrugged, “What’s obvious?” “You’re clearly in love with her already.” Getting punched in the face would have been less dramatic to his psyche. Eddie immediately recognized that what Nancy was saying was the honest to goodness truth because that was her way, direct and to the point, but that didn’t make it easier for the boy from the wrong side of town to hear. Or believe. Or trust. Love didn’t come easy to a guy like Eddie. Guys with absentee parents who faded into memory long before lessons about connection could be learned. Guys who found their family through battle and blood, sacrifice and scars, not genetics. And any time he had even considered loving someone it managed to go south, and fast. “Shh! She could hear you!” Rolling her eyes, Nancy, still trapped in Jonathan’s sleepy grip, turned away from Eddie, “I don’t think it’s a surprise. In fact, she seems pretty smitten too.” “Smitten! Yes! That’s the word! She’s totally smitten for you, dude.” Steve snapped his fingers happily. Drawing his knees into his chest, Eddie dropped his forehead to the bony plates there, “Guys, I don’t know if-” “Can’t you just, like, I don't know, follow your heart here man?” Looking up at Steve standing in the doorway, holding up the wall with his right shoulder, Eddie raised his eyebrows, “My heart is not the most reliable of organs, Stevie. You know this. It made me think that I had a chance with Chrissy Cunningham and look what happened there.” Nancy winced, an audible huff of surprise leaving her lips as Steve dropped into a crouch at Eddie’s side. “Hey. No. That- that was different. You know that, Eddie.” “I know what you’re saying, but, like, what if-” “What if? What if the sky falls? Or, or you get hit by a bus? Or, ya know, some other fucking awful thing happens? Are you not going to try because of ‘what if’?”

“Nancy, I don’t remember you being such a great orator before.” That made his friend smirk, full of sass when she snapped back, “Fuck you, Munson. You aren’t the only one capable of verbal glory, ya know?” That made him snicker, rebalancing a bit of the energy in the room. It also made him courageous enough to ask, “So, you guys like her too, then?” “Like her? Shit, when you screw it up, I’m going to swoop in so fast-Hey!” Eddie had pushed Steve off his feet, forcing him to the floor with a grunt and thump. The noise woke up Robin, blinking through bleary eyes, “What’s happening?” Steve had quickly maneuvered around Eddie, trying to work the boy into a headlock, only to be stalled by the placement of the couch. Swinging to his knees, Eddie, gentler this time, tackled Steve around the knees, bumping them into the coffee table and Jonathan at the same time. “What? What the hell?” His voice was froggy but that only made everyone else laugh harder. “Boys! Boys! Enough of this!” Robin’s motherly tone crept into her half hearted attempt at breaking up their roughhousing as she gingerly stepped around them. “Uh uh, Buckley!” Eddie and Steve, working together, each snagged a pant leg and before she could stop it, Robin was in the middle of a dog-pile free for all. Nancy shook her head at the noises; squealing laughter, threats to keep on tickling, a groan from one of the boys after a misplaced kick. Jonathan flopped back into the couch cushions, an amused smile on his face, as Nance skirted the squirmish, “Anyone need anything?” — Amanda washed her hands in the overly ornate sink, overcome by the well appointed space that was so pretentious in a way that Steve Harrington was not. In a shocking twist of fate, she found that all of Eddie’s friends were far kinder and welcoming than she could have imagined. Each one of the gang had made her feel accepted, and not just because Amanda was with Eddie. An excited smile reflected back from the gilded mirror. Eddie. Just the thought of his relaxed, easy grin made Amanda happy. “Oh! I didn’t see you, I'm so sorry!” Opening the bathroom door, Amanda was shocked to find Nancy standing in the hallway, seemingly waiting for her. Waving her off with a raised hand, Nancy dismissed the apology, “No, I’m sorry for scaring you!” As she moved past Amanda, one hand on the ornate woodwork of the doorway, Nancy turned to face the newcomer, “Uh, Amanda?” “Yea?” It took the brunette a second to crystalize her thoughts, allowing worry to slide down Amanda’s spine in the growing silence, but once she had, Nancy’s searching eyes found Amanda’s. In a steady voice, she started, “Eddie- he’s, well, he’s a really great guy.” Unsure of where this was going, Amanda swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat, encouraging Nancy to continue with a wordless nod. And Nancy did, explaining in her straightforward way, “We, uh, this group, we’ve been through quite a bit together. I’m not sure how much he’s told you-” She paused, perhaps expecting Amanda to volunteer some insight into what Eddie may or may not have shared. When she didn’t offer any response, Nancy carried on solemnly, her round eyes unwavering, “-But, Eddie- he’s faced more than most and lived to tell the tale. There was a time when he almost, uh, didn’t.” Amanda absorbed the words with an anxious knot coiling in her stomach, reading the implied message there while Nancy pressed on. Facing Amanda now, a firm look on her pinched face, sharp shoulders squared, “I won’t speak for everyone in there, I can’t, it isn’t my place. But you should know that beneath all of his, his bravado, Eddie is sweet. Tenderhearted. And I wouldn’t be the only one who would hate to see him get hurt.”

There was a grittiness to the way Nancy said it, not a threat, per se, but edged with a protective venom that was impossible to ignore. If Amanda wasn’t on the receiving end of her speech, she might have found it endearing. And it was, in a semi-scary kind of way. It really spoke to the love that Eddie’s found family had for him and clearly for each other.

All Amanda could do was blush hotly at the implied meaning for Nancy’s concern. The idea that she had the power to hurt Eddie, to cause him any kind of harm, had never crossed her mind. Yet, here she was, feeling like she had been put on the spot by the curly haired woman’s directness. Desperate to defend herself and her intentions with Eddie, Amanda stumbled over the sentences, not able to get the words out fast enough, “Nancy. I, oh my god, believe me, I know. I would never hurt him. I couldn’t. I- I love him too much.” It fell out of her mouth before her wayward brain could stop itself, confessing Amanda’s heart’s deepest secret to one of Eddie’s friends as if it were no more important than asking for a beer or to pass the chips. And maybe that’s what made it feel real enough for Nancy to offer an appraising smile, tilting her head towards Amanda, “Yea, I got that feeling.” Realization about what she had admitted out loud must have shown on Amanda’s face, because Nancy laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Hey, I’m not going to say anything to Eddie. That’s something for you two to talk about-” a half smile that spoke of shared secrets flooded Nancy’s face as she tacked on cheekily, “-if you can manage to do any talking when you’re, ya know, alone together.” And then she slipped into the bathroom leaving Amanda speechless and stunned in Steve Harrington’s hallway. — Eddie left the tickle torturing of Robin to her platonic soulmate, his stomach muscles aching from laughing so hard, “A drink. I need to wet my whistle. Buckley? Harrington? You guys good?” Had he planned on tiptoeing down the hall, eager to find Amanda and maybe press a pretty kiss to lips he was suddenly desperate for? No. But Eddie did it anyway.

And he would have followed his plan to the letter if he hadn’t overheard the conversation unfolding outside of Steve’s bathroom. Instead, he found himself tucked into the adjoining room’s entryway, holding his breath because the last thing Eddie wanted to do was interrupt. Not when Nancy was treading the line between welcoming Amanda and warning her to be good to her friend. But then Amanda’s voice fluttered, rushed but strong, as Eddie heard her say, “I’m in love with him.” Him. Eddie. Amanda had told Nancy that she couldn’t imagine hurting him because she was in love with him.

That was… unbelievable. Unreal. Unfathomable.

Footsteps moved his direction but Eddie didn’t hesitate. Snagging Amanda’s arm, he tugged her into the unused room, taking her bewilderment in stride. Pushing her into the wall making the sterling framed photos there jump, Eddie caged her under his narrow hips, his mouth silencing any of Amanda’s sounds.

Hot and hungry, Eddie was greedy with his lips, licking and kissing across Amanda’s. His hands tipped her chin, moving her to where he wanted, where he had the best angle for slipping his tongue over her own, the warm wet of her mouth open just for him. And unlike their spit swapping in this van, this was fevered, frenzied. Eddie kissed her like he might never get the chance again. He kissed her with all the love he felt, safe in the knowledge of Amanda’s feelings, even if they had only been shared with his friend in a hushed confession. Feelings he shouldn’t even know about since neither he or Amanda had talked about anything as serious as loving each other. Even if he was already madly, crazy, deeply in love with Amanda. How could he deny the woman with the gorgeous voice and expressive eyes that saw more in Eddie than he could see in himself? Not possible. Not even a little bit. Breathing hotly across her ear, acting boldly, Eddie did something he never expected to do, he told Amanda what his heart could no longer hold. Between hotly huffed breaths that moved the stray hairs on her cheeks, Eddie Munson fervently husked out his declaration, “I fucking love you, you know?” Panting from having the air kissed out of her lungs, Amanda slowly opened her eyes, taking in Eddie’s face with that questioning tilt of her head, “What? What did you say?” “You heard me, Mandy. I love you.” There was no dramatics at play, no flourished hang movements or silly voices. It was raw and real and terrifying. “I love you. So much, Eddie. It’s- it’s scary.” —

They wasted no time in saying their goodbyes, Eddie practically running to grab his stuff, dragging Amanda behind him in a rush of arms and socked feet. If his friends thought it was weird, they didn’t say so. Instead, Robin had squeezed Amanda in a tight hug, “It was so nice to meet you! Please come again! Eddie, you have to bring her next time too. Promise me!” “I will, Buckley. I swear to god, I will.” He mimicked a boy scout salute, snapping to attention and making Robin laugh, “Good!” Nancy and Jonathan had lingered in the hallway while they sorted out jackets and shoes, offering waves and kind words but they let Steve walk them outside. He’d draped his arm over Amanda’s shoulder, talking to Eddie the entire time, “Henderson’s gonna want an update on this, uh, situation. You know that right?” “Who’s Henderson?” Amanda asked innocently, stopping to look up at Eddie’s profile glowing yellow around the edges from the porch lights. The trio were standing at the passenger’s side door, Eddie already popping the handle, as Steve answered, “Uh, I’ll let Munson tell you all about him. He’s one of the nuggets. Great kid, amazing hair, attitude as big as his ego.” “That’s a fair description, but, like so many things, Sir Steve, there’s a bit more to the story than that.” A look passed between the boys, something unspoken but agreed upon and Amanda had the distinct impression that she had passed a test because the next thing she knew, Steve Harrington was wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Hey, Mandy, take care of this guy, ok? We kinda like him.” Solemnly, as if she was taking a sacred oath, Amanda pledged, “I swear I’m going to take care of him, Steve.” And, taking Eddie’s offered hand, Amanda stepped into the van. Lingering, Steve shut the door for her, leaning at the window, “Good. And if Eddie doesn’t take care of you, you know where I live.” The megawatt smile that had been dropping panties for the whole of the 80’s flashed solely for Amanda’s benefit, bringing heat to her cheeks. “Hey, Harrington?” Eddie had slid into the driver’s seat but bent forward to talk out of Amanda’s window. “Yea?” “Stop flirting with my girl.”

Oh, that only made Steve’s smirk widen, the patent charm practically oozing out of him, “Fine. Fine, whatever you want Eddie.” Turning his attention back to her, Steve kissed the back of her hand chivalrously, “Amanda, Mandy, it was lovely to meet you. Hope to see you again soon.” Tapping on the door frame twice Steve added, “Oh, Eddie man? Be good.” Grinning and goofy, Eddie started the van, “Dude, you know I can’t be good, so I’ll be careful.” “And if you can’t be careful, name it after me.” They said it in unison, a chorus they had clearly repeated hundreds of times before, and even Amanda laughed at their brotherly bickering. But she got the last word. Wrinkling her nose up, swinging her head between the two goofballs, Amanda sighed, “Steve Munson? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Two pairs of eyeballs, stunned silent, turned her way before the cackling laughter started. Eddie threw his head back, long hair moving with every shake of his shoulders and Amanda found herself staring at the sight of his open, happy face. And Steve, recognizing that he had been dismissed, stepped away from the van, still smiling broadly, “Get outta here. Go home!”

—

Eddie only ran two stop signs before pulling up to Amanda’s apartment building. His heart was racing, the adrenaline making him feel higher than anything Reefer Rick had been lucky enough to sell, and he couldn’t hide the dimple deep smile that was plastered across his face. Amanda was in love with him! The gargoyle inside his heart was satisfied at last. Shifting into park, he twisted in his seat, already hating that he had to say goodnight. But the night wasn’t over yet, not when Amanda’s expressive eyes met his burnt brown sugar ones, “Wanna come inside?” “You’re serious?” He couldn’t help the giddy rush that fluttered through his gut at the idea of having Amanda alone in a comfortable place that hadn’t carried any of the gear or guys from Corroded Coffin. Holding out her little finger, Amanda lit up with a sweet smile, “I am. Promise.”

---

Thank you for reading! Part 3 is a work in progress!!

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