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#so note that even though eddie thinks this is the end thats a big fat lie
wormdebut · 13 days
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LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND)
Ahoy! This is my first VERY LATE ficlet for @corrodedcoffinfest ! My absolute bad for being so late, but BOY am I HAPPY TO BE HERE!
Warm Up Prompt One: Taxed. Word Count: 1000 (scrivener says 1000 Wordcounter says 979. IDK Man, it’s within limit), Rating: T, Pairing: None, CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak
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October 1987
They've been at this for fucking years. Eddie feels like a fucking girl scout.
'Well hello there Mr. Music Man, would you like to buy a box of shitty garage band metal?'
Except they weren't fucking shitty. All of the guys had been working their assess off, writing, playing shows, shitty gig after shitty gig after shitty gig.
But they haven't managed anything. Nothing, zilch, nada.
They had a small crowd showing up at the Hideout, and the owner, Benny, started letting them play not only their usual Tuesday but because Eddie had been helping him with placehe was letting them play Saturday nights now too, which was great because while he appreciates the likes of his uncle and Wayne's best friends on Tuesdays, there were almost twenty people every Saturday night and that was something.
They also had a standing gig at a bar in Indianapolis at least once a month, lately they've been playing The Barrel every other week and Eddie thought--he thought--that that would get them somewhere.
The guys were fucking exhausted but Eddie kept pushing because they could do this. Corroded Coffin was great. They were great and somebody was going to see that…right?
Eddie saw what they had. He did. But the guys--
"C'mon Ed, we can't keep sneaking Gareth into bars forever. I think we need to--maybe consider other options or--" Jeff rambles. They were supposed to be practicing but Jeff Williams had to swoop inwith his stupid common sense bullshit. Jeff motherfucking Williams is one of the best guitarists Eddie has ever had to the privilege of listening to, but Jeff wants to go college like a real boy!
Gareth cuts him off, "It's just the two bars man, and I have a fake, if I need it anyw--"
Would you look at that, it's time for Freddy to cut in. "Yeah, but you're three feet tall and have the face of a newborn child."
Gareth shoves at Freddy's chest. "Oh fuck off, man. At least I'm not a virgin!" He yelps and great. This is great.
Now the band is fighting, again, because Jeff wants to go to College, Goodie is a Virgin, and Gareth is short.
Eddie just want to play music.
If they all want to yell, Eddie can yell louder. "See. Do you see what happens when you start talking about 'other options' Jeff? Chaos--and not the fun kind!"
"See, Eddie--this is the fucking problem with you. All you care about is your music, your dream, It's all about you!"
Jeff is yelling at Eddie, Gareth and Freak are rough housing, how did this even happen. All Eddie wants is to do something. Be something. He believes in this, in Jeff, and Freddy and Gareth, in the band.
And he gets that everyone is taxed, tired. Eddie is fucking exhausted. Gareth is trying to not fail his senior year. He gets it, he does, but-- "You know what, Jeff?" His voice breaks, and isn't that fucking humiliating? "Some of us, don't have college as an option. Did you ever consider that?"
Eddie leans over and grabs his cigarettes from the table, before shoulder checking Jeff as he leaves.
——
What’s the fucking point? Eddie puts everything into lyrics that people probably don't even know, all of them spend hours writing and harmonizing, making sure chords make sense, just for everything to be a pipe dream. They haven't taken a break for anything. It's either work or school or Coffin Shit. They haven't played D&D in months. They've just been doing this.
But it's all Eddie has. How the hell was he ever going to get out of shitty ass Hawkins, if it wasn't this way? He didn't exactly ace his finals--even the third time around. Honestly? He's pretty sure they just let him pass, to get him the fuck out of there.
He lights up what feels like his eighth cigarette--it's not, it's his second--and stares out to the empty street. They use Gareth's garage to practice…for being as straight laced as she is, Ms. Emerson sure does believe in the band.
Dottie Emerson and Eddie. God dammit, maybe Jeff is right.
He should go back, he should go back and apologize, and let this go. He has the job at the Hideout, he can save and maybe move to Indy--play an acoustic at some bars or…something.
God, he's just so tired of this shit.
He finishes his cigarette, and tries to breathe. Breathe in--hold--breathe out--he doesn't realizes Jeff until he taps his shoulder.
"Hey." Jeff says, quiet. Eddie, just nods, grabs his pack and offers a cancer-filled olive branch. Jeff takes it.
Eddie doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to, doesn't know what he should say.
So Jeff does. "I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just fucking tired man, we all are and I do want this, I do, but it's fucking scary." Eddie turns, watches Jeff blow out smoke. "I got accepted to IU, did you know that?"
Eddie blinks. He did not know that. "No, you hadn't mentioned it."
Jeff turns to look at him, "I didn't want this to happen."
Eddie closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. In--hold--out. "You should go." He forces a smile, watches as Jeff's eyes shine for a moment--no wonder he had that silly crush on him his second senior year, but it was only for like a week, leave it alone--before he srunches his face up, Eddie can't help but laugh. Jeff always does that, when he's stressed. It makes him look like a rabbit.
Jeff goes to speak, but Eddie cuts him off. "Let's do this Halloween show, it'll be our going away gift to our tens of adoring fans."
Jeff laughs at that, nods, and pulls Eddie into a hug.
Everything will be fine, with or without Corroded Coffin.
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