broken hearts club! • bill denbrough

six.

"what i like about photos is that they capture a moment that's gone forever, impossible to reproduce."

"I saw you around town with Richie Tozier and his friends." John Marshall sighed from the armchair across from the couch in Trinity Polson's living room. Logan sat stiffly on the couch, staring at him blank faced. What bad things was he gonna say to make her feel bad about finally making friends?

"What's wrong with Richie?" She smirked to herself and pulled a piece of gum out of the pocket of her torn red leather jacket. She stole it almost a year ago from a thrift store and loved the hell out of it. "Actually, don't answer that. But why do you make it sound bad that I have friends? You just lectured me last week on how having friends influences people."

"No, it's great." He shook his head and leaned forward, analyzing her face; or at least trying to. "They're just not the friends you need. You should stop hanging out with them. You don't wanna deal with me any longer than you have to, right?"

"You can't stop me from hanging out with them." She crossed her arms and smacked her gum loudly in her mouth. No one, not even someone like him, representing the government, could stop her from hanging out with her new friends. She finally had friends and she wasn't going to let them go so easily.

"Well, how about a compromise?" She sat up and made eye contact with him, urging him to continue. "First, tell me why you feel I should let you stay near them."

"Do I really have to do this?" She rolled her eyes and popped her gum again, slouching back against the couch. She was new to friendships and even she didn't know exactly why she wanted, needed, to be their friend so desperately.

"I guess their friendship doesn't mean much to you then." He grabbed his folder of her paperwork and touched the recorder, about to turn it off. It was required by his boss that he recorded every conversation they had, just in case she ever threatened him seriously. Or course, she never would. Logan looked tough but, if you look deeper, she was afraid of her image and maintaining the tough side of her. There was so much more to her than the part of her that stole bubblegum packets from gas stations and new clothes from thrift shops.

"Sit your ass down, John." She sighed and leaned forward once more, watching him set all his things down and push the voice device in her direction, nodding at her to start her reasoning.

"Okay. Okay, fine. Um, let's start with Richie, I guess?" She pointed at the photo that she showed him when he first arrived. She had one of each of the losers, each from a different point in the last two days. They were to help him identify faces and names, should something occur.

"I don't really know why but I think he's really cool. There's-there's so much more to him than what he shows. He's got a lot of insecurities and he just wants love. He deserves that. He has this look on his face when he looks at one of the guys in the friend group. I don't know what it is, but he seems to really want his attention. I thought he was just the annoying class clown but, when I started really talking to him yesterday, he was actually really different. He's a lot like me and understands my kind of humor, I guess."

"And this one." He pointed at the photo the photo of Eddie sleeping silently on Bill's bed. The morning before the meeting with John, Guinevere went with her to pick everyone else up and Eddie had been sound asleep, waiting at Bill's house. Eddie was adorable so she felt obligated to take a photo. He ended up waking up grumpily at the flash of her Polaroid.