Eddie Munson Oneshots

Mirror, Mirror*

How it happened, you'll never know.

You just know that the position you find yourself in is a position you hope to repeat sometime in the near, near future.

"It's another right, Steve!" You roll your eyes at him for having to give directional aid.

"I got it! Jeez," he huffs and shakes his head. He pulls into the parking lot of the Hideout, eyeing the building with a skeptical look. "This place?"

"Yeah," you nod, grabbing your bag to pull over your head, "come on." You look at him and tilt your head, "Don't look like that. It'll be great!"

Eddie was having one of his shows tonight. It is the first one you have ever been to. Eddie had to be there early to set up, so you made Steve take you and insisted he watch the show, too. He agreed only because he wanted to support his friend with his best friend...but also because you threatened to cut his hair in his sleep if he didn't.

He follows you out of the car as you both walk into the building. It looks like a punk spot, with spray paint graffiti—on both the outside and the inside—and posters of bands and sexy women lining the walls. The lights are dim to keep the spotlight of the small stage significantly more important. There is a bar on the side across from the stage and the audience is a little bigger than you expected from what Eddie had told you.

You don't see him as you walk in. It's the first thing you do: try and find him. Steve walks closely by your side, as if he's your own personal bodyguard. You believe he's convinced that he is your own personal bodyguard. You let him believe it, whatever makes him happy.

You don't end up finding Eddie—which doesn't surprise you. You and Steve go to the bar and grab a couple of drinks to hold you over until the concert starts. On the small stage, the instruments belonging to Eddie's band are set up and ready to be played.

It is a while before the concert actually starts, but you aren't disappointed when the announcer makes his kind of half-hearted introduction of the band. You're pretty sure you are the loudest person when the applause for the band ensues as each member walks onto the stage.

You smile up at Eddie when he stands center stage. He's as handsome as ever with a Corroded Coffin tee (one that matches your own and Steve's), paired with his leather-jacket-denim-vest combo and the bandana you gifted him forever ago wrapped around his forehead. You can tell that he searches for you immediately, finding you just as fast.

You wave at him and then blow him a kiss, which he catches with a cheesy grin and presses to his chest. He steps up to his mic when his guitar is placed over his shoulder. "What's up, Hawkins?" he greets with that large smile you can never get enough of.

The crowd is good tonight—albeit small, it's a step up from five drunks. They cheer and respond as excitedly as a Hawkins crowd can. It helps that a few other friends are in the audience to support him. "I see some familiar faces." His gaze finds you again and he winks as he continues, "And some really pretty ones, too." You playfully roll your eyes at him.

He finishes up his small intro, choosing not to stall too long before he finally starts the performance. The first song is an original, one you helped him write when he asked you for inspiration. It turns out, you had been the inspiration because he only really started writing chords and lyrics when you began aiding him. Hearing it being performed now really brings into perspective how much this song was written for you.

It's when Eddie goes into a guitar solo, fast and impassioned, that you begin to get distracted. You're lucky Steve is too caught up in the good music to notice you because you are definitely not cheering excitedly anymore.