didntrun | (no subject)

Eddie feels kind of dumb about all this, but the longer he keeps it to himself, the worse it gets. Ever since the end of last semester at Barton, where he had barely scraped by with passing grades, he's been rethinking the whole college thing. At first, it had felt like a bit of a victory, getting into college even after all those teachers at Hawkins High proclaimed him to be a failure. A middle finger in their general direction, because he, Eddie The Freak Munson, had gotten into college.

But then he'd gotten there and while he had liked parts of some classes, he'd also had to write papers and do research and take real tests and exams. Being in theatre apparently didn't automatically exempt him from having to sit at a desk with a pencil and scratch little circles into a piece of paper, as if that was the best way to measure someone's intelligence.

Eddie isn't stupid. He'd never let the teachers back in Hawkins convince him of that, even though they tried. He knows he's smart, but he's also come to the conclusion that he's just not cut out for traditional school.

That's why, in early August, he had gone to campus and withdrawn himself from all his courses for the year.

If Chrissy has wondered why he's only going to work and not school, she hasn't asked. She's good like that, though, she gives him space about things when she senses he needs it, and it's not as if Eddie is having a hard time otherwise. He loves his job, he's having an amazing time making music with Lestat, and all things considered, his life here is pretty cool.

He just worries he might be letting people down who expect more out of him.

And so he has to tell someone before he loses his mind, which is why he's at the apartment Will shares with Joyce, hoping to high hell Chief Hopper isn't around as he knocks on the door.

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Will had a project due in his art class, a still life painting of things found around the house. A coffee mug. A blender. One of Eleven's scrunchies. Little odds and ends. It was boring and mostly just about learning technique, but he found it sort of relaxing. He hadn't realized how long he'd been at it, and he was paint splattered and a little disheveled when he answered the door.

"Oh, hey," he said, smiling brightly and stepping aside to let Eddie inside.

"Hey, man," Eddie says, peeking around Will to make sure Hopper isn't lurking in some corner, ready to tell him off for bringing bad influences into the house or whatever he thinks of Eddie these days. He doesn't really know, he hasn't exactly given the man a chance, but he figures better to just keep on avoiding him.

"How's it going?" he asks as he switches his gaze to Will. "Hard at work, huh?"

He pokes a little splotch of paint on Will's cheek and then holds his finger up, the end orange, and grins.

"Oh, ha ha," Will said, his laughter on a little self-conscious. "Yeah, I've got a project due. It's just a still life."

Catching Eddie glancing around, Will rolled his eyes. "Hopper and my mom are out."

"Good," he says. "I mean, your mom's cool, but the Chief?"

Eddie just shakes his head. Maybe he's not so bad; Steve has told him Hopper doesn't drink anymore and he's more chill now that he has about a hundred kids, but Eddie doesn't feel like risking everything he's got going for him here by getting arrested for looking at the man the wrong way.

"Can I see it?" he asks. "The still life?"

"Oh, yeah. Um, sure," Will said, gesturing for Eddie to follow him into his room, where he'd set up his easel across from a small end table, artfully cluttered with the subjects of his still life.

"It's not done or anything," he said, a little pink in the cheeks. Then, after a brief, hesitant pause, he said, "Hopper's not bad, you know. I mean, once you get to know him."

"The last time I got to know him, he was putting cuffs on me," Eddie points out, but he's grinning as he says it, not all that bothered. He had been committing a crime, after all, and when you're caught doing that by a cop, generally you get arrested.

"This is cool," he says of the painting. "You're really good at this." Eddie is creative in his own ways, he knows that, but he couldn't do anything like this.

"Oh, yeah. I guess?" Will said, his flush darkening. "This isn't really the kind of stuff I like to paint, but we're getting a foundation in the basics."

He shrugged, all while hiding a pleased smile. Eddie might not have been a painter, but he was an artist, and his opinion mattered.

"Yeah, you gotta figure out how to build a story before you get all the characters," he says, nodding. He'd be shit at painting, he wouldn't be able to do anything like what Will does, but the stuff about the foundation, that makes sense to him.

Lately he's been thinking maybe he should focus on that instead. But he can't do that at university.

"I dropped out," he blurted out suddenly.

Will frowned.

"Dropped out of what?" He asked, though it dawned on him even before the words were fully out of his mouth. "Oh! Oh, that's... good?"

He grimaced.

"Sorry, that was... Are you okay?"

The reaction makes Eddie laugh and as easily as that, he's relaxed. It is good, even if he's been too freaked out to really tell Chrissy outright, too worried he's going to just prove to be a disappointment.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, dude, I'm good. And it is good. I don't know how to write research papers and take exams about biology and math. Turns out, even the theatre kids are expected to do all that shit and I just... can't. Or I don't want to, I dunno, but either way, I couldn't keep doing it."

"Oh, good," Will said, with a relieved sigh. "Yeah, when are we ever going to need to know that stuff?"

Even Will, who struggled to believe that he'd ever be able to make a living as an artist, couldn't really imagine ever doing anything else.

"Hey, we've got to be well rounded," Eddie says, rolling his eyes at the same time. "I dunno, dude, why don't they teach us how budget and shit like that?"

He smiles a little and says, "I haven't told Chrissy yet. I haven't really told anyone. Just... another Munson fuck up, you know?"

"It's not a fuck up. You're not a fuck up, Eddie," Will said earnestly. Eddie was a lot of things, and maybe he did make mistakes, but Will was incapable of seeing him as anything less than one of the coolest people he'd ever known.

"Chrissy's going to get it. She gets you."

"Yeah, she does, doesn't she?" he asks, grinning again. "She's so cool."

He's still not sure how he missed it for so long or why someone as cool as Chrissy loves him, but he's not about the start questioning it and potentially lose one of the best things in his life. All he knows is that he's a lucky guy.

"Okay, but don't tell your mom," he says. "She'll be disappointed." And he actually won't mind at all. It's nice, the way she is.