Late at night when I like who I am, in the dark where I'm finally me

1.

Richie Tozier is prettier at night.

If he said that out-loud it might get him a few chucks, but it's no joke to him. He knows it's true, somehow.
It's a hidden fact that reveals itself to him in small things. When he catches his own reflection on a store window or when he gets the passenger seat in his friends' cars and can't help but stare at himself on the side mirror, for example.

See, daylight does little for Richie besides exposing the true self he so much despises.

During the day, the acne weights on his face, which is constantly oily. The color of his skin brightens up to blinding levels and his hair is so dark that the contrast against the sunlight makes the little wiry curls more noticeable, like a cloud made of fuzz settled around his head.

During the day, his bones are too bony and his height is too high, his laugh is too laughable and his jokes are ... not.
Under the sun his feet are too big, his hands don't fit on his wrists, his lips crack at the corners because his teeth don't seem to fit inside. The crook of his nose gets worse, there's always an eyelash poking at his eyeball and a constant itch everywhere that seems impossible to scratch.

In the day time Richie Tozier is his true self, and he has only one mission. To hide.

So he laughs a little less, tones the jokes down. Stops himself from moving and fidgeting and jumping around when his muscles ache for it. Anything to become more invisible.

Needless to say, by the end of the day Richie misses smiling. Misses feeling good in his own body, fitting in his own shape. He misses being okay.

Those bad times make it almost impossible to remember what it's like to feel good, but as soon as the sky begins to shift into more colors besides blue, his heart starts beating with purpose and the first genuine smile of the day makes an appearance.

There are so many great things that come along with night time... And all those things can be the same as the ones he does during the day, mundane things, but they shift into some thrilling adventure for Richie.

Like riding a bus and somehow not caring about the other passengers staring at you. Cracking a joke and being sure it'll be funny, and if it's not, then it doesn't bother him. Going outside and not fearing judgment, simply because the dark hides him better.

At night, his skin tone gets softer, bluer, and reflects every piece of light that meets the surface of his body. The acne is never there, no excess oil pools in his pores. Sometimes there's a layer of sweat due to all the adrenaline that travels his veins between 8 p.m. and the moment he goes to sleep, but it's okay, Richie thinks. It means he's finally alive.

At night, the dark curls blend with the dark sky, every strand of hair slowly begins to fit into place. When he passes his fingers through it, he knows he owns every curl with confidence. His bones and muscles slowly relax, fit inside his skin so there's no more bumps or tension points and he can finally let loose.
At night, he falls in love with his height for he can finally tuck his friends under his arms, and place his chin on top of their heads without feeling ashamed of it, of outsiders' eyes.

His laugh never feels too loud, never feels too much. It becomes contagious and there is nothing more gratifying than sending the ones you love into a fit of giggles that could lull him to sleep.

Under the moonlight, he doesn't notice the size of his feet because at night, Richie Tozier doesn't care at all. He jumps around in the street with good company surrounding his steps. He hugs when he craves it and he fidgets when he has to, and no one else there will order him to stop or call him a nuisance.