𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗘, reddie

030. andria

RICHIE buzzes with excitement for day-five's plans. Because, well, Richie Tozier is a singer. He's rocked his fair share of stages and uploaded a shit ton of covers to Youtube and got a little revenue on Spotify thanks to what he calls his original jams. So yeah, he's a singer.

The Scooby Gang, as Richie still likes to call their group of five young adults and two parents, discover that they're having karaoke until ten out at a diner at the plaza near the hotel, and they immediately decide that they just must attend.

Which, mostly, is a mix of wanting Richie to perform because, lowkey famous, and wanting Stan to perform because, well. Literal robot.

It's about seven when they decide to leave the hotel, and Eddie is laying on his tummy on the bed while his phone is charging on the end-stand.

"Do you think they're gonna only have songs from the eighties or some shit? Because, like, those are jams and all but fuck. I can't pull off Bon Jovi," Richie says while he ties his shoes onto his feet, which are practically pitch black and the blandest sneakers Eddie has ever seen.

Eddie scrunches up his nose and plays with the sleeve of his sweater, rolling the fabric between his fingers nervously. Richie looks good, his hair is still messy and he's not wearing contacts, but something about his jeans — even if they're loose and look like something his mom might wear in the eighties — makes Eddie's heart flip.

It doesn't help that it's Richie, and he alone makes Eddie's heart flip a good portion. He's glad to have met Richie, especially since he'd gotten to do so before Richie's music gained popularity.

Not due to some hipster complex of being able to say he knew Richie before his fans or anything, but just because he was sure his chances of interacting with the boy would be much smaller had he been overwhelmed with fans requesting his inbox all the time.

Eddie looked over at Richie, all concentrated on tying his laces the bunny ear way. "I dunno, I think you can sing some Yazoo if you really tried," He teased, causing Richie to squint and chuckle, looking up at him.

"What— Situation, you mean? God—" Richie started, cut off by Eddie's giggles.

"No, no," Eddie said quickly, almost falling over with how hard he was giggling at the idea of Richie trying to sing that, "No, I meant Only You. Although now I gotta say, I'm curious..."

Richie rolled his eyes fondly, finally successfully tying his laces, his eyes sparking with a starlike mirth, lighting up what always seemed to be a night sky. "I dunno, eighties aren't really my thing. Nineties, though—" He began, and then suddenly started an exaggerated try at the chorus of Wonderwall.

This time, Eddie laughed so hard that he fell off of the bed.

The Diner wasn't dark, per say, but it was harder to see once they entered, and the lighting was dim enough to cause the stage-area to look like a spotlight.

There were people, but not a lot, most of them eating on fries and hot dogs while a ten year old girl sang an adorable rendition of Let It Go while her little sister stood next to her bouncing excitedly.

Richie found that they had a computer where they got their lyrics on Youtube, but was disappointed that his own songs weren't quite popular enough to get an instrumental on Sing King Karaoke.

The group had gathered at a table sort of close to the stage, Jessica making some joke to Richie that caused him to giggle cutely as he sat down. Eddie thought that, even over the sound of a little girl trying to hit Elsa's notes, Richie was still the cutest thing in the world.