IT Imagines

Barf Boy (Richie)

1st Person POV (MOVIE) (ADULT)

"Alright, Tozier," I begin to slowly shake Richie's body, knowing that he is awake and pretending to be asleep in bed next to me. Richie does an obnoxious snore, so I decide to shake him harder. This time, a wide grin grows onto his face as he turns towards me and smiles. "We have a little less than an hour to be at the venue, so we should probably get up."

Richie's little smile turns into a huge frown. "We haven't even had our morning sex yet, can't my stand up show wait?"

I brush some hair out of his face, giving him a sad pout, "looks like we will have to make it up tonight after the show." I send Richie a small wink, making the two of us laugh a bit. "Go take a shower, Richie, you smell kind of gross."

"Gee thanks."

———

My only job when I'm on the road with Richie (besides take care of him) is to be his social media manager. Most of the pictures that are posted under his name are either taken by me or posted by me. Richie literally has no fucking clue how to work Instagram.

"Y/N, get a picture of me pretending to sleep on the stage like I forgot I had a show tonight!" Richie says into his microphone. Everyone in the auditorium and backstage could hear him, and I was the only one laughing.

"Mr. Tozier, please continue mic check, you can lay on the stage later." The guy at the sound board says back into another mic. Richie makes a face at me before reciting a random part from his act.

For the next thirty seconds, Richie talks about the time we went to my cousin's house for dinner. It was a messy experience. As soon as the sound board guy says Richie is good, he lays on the floor again and tells me to take pictures.

"How do I look?"

"Like an idiot!"

"Good!"

Richie gets himself up off the floor and runs down into the audience to sit next to me. His head is on my shoulder as he watches me put words and colors all over the picture.

"Wow, you really know how to make me look good when I look like this," Richie circles his face and raises his eyebrows at me.

"You look beautiful, Rich," I turn my head slightly to give him a kiss, which he takes gladly and returns. "Ready to go backstage and have dinner before your show?"

"Of course, I can never turn down California pizza."

There is an entire table full of different kinds of pizza. Some stuff has already been taken, like the cheese pizza, which is what I usually eat. Then, there is a pizza that hasn't been touched and will only be touched by Richie Tozier. The pineapple pizza. The truly most disgusting thing ever.

We sit together at a small table and eat our dinner. There is still at least thirty minutes before the door open to get inside, so there is time to relax before the show. And by relaxing, Richie just wanted to try stupid Instagram filters and post them.

"Look at this one!" I scroll my finger across the screen to a bunch of butterflies. They flutter around the screen, landing on Richie's nose. "You're so cute!"

Before I could finish recording the video, it cuts out to a phone call from Derry, Maine.

"It's for you, do you know anyone from Derry?" I ask him, placing his phone in his hand.

Richie shrugs his shoulders, "I don't think so." His finger slides across the screen to answer, "Hello, this is Richie Tozier speaking, how may I help you?"

I watch Richie's eyes grow wide as the other person speaks, then he jumps up out of his seat and runs towards the exit sign. I follow him, not knowing what's happening, and everyone backstage starts to stare at us.

"Richie, you go on in five minutes," a guy with a head set says to him. He even hands him a microphone, which he takes and covers his mouth with.

Just as I catch him outside, Richie spits out a mouth full of vomit onto the ground below him. He waits a second, then spits more out as another way of nausea hits him.

"Gah-got it," Richie says into phone. He takes the phone away from his ear, ends the phone call, and leans his head over the railing to take a couple of deep breaths. "Y/N, it is back."

"What?" My phone rings next, it is from the same place that Richie had on his phone. "Hello, this is Y/N Tozier, how can I help you?"

"Hi, Y/N, it is Mike, Mike Hanlon, and I need you to come back to Derry. It is back and the town needs you. And— did you just say Tozier? As in you're married to Richie Tozier?" Mike finally stops talking, waiting for me to say something, but I can't. My breathing gets really heavy and everything is spinning around me. Richie is staring at me, he is breathing heavily too.

This is actually happening.

"I—I did and I'm coming rih-right away," I say in between the big breaths I am taking. My hands are shaking really bad, which makes ending the phone call really hard. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Too late, best you to it." Richie cracks a weak smile at me, then wipes his hand with the microphone in it across his forehead. "Crap, I still have a show tonight. No, no, cancel it. We have to fly out there to Derry now."

"Good god, I can't believe we are doing this." I pant out, sliding down to the floor of the fire escape.

"And you know we have to go back, we made a promise," Richie says in a sad tone. At the same time, we both lift up our left hands to see a reforming scar that was definitely not there an hour ago.

"I know."

Richie nods his head again, then heaves his dinner over the railing one last time before sitting down next to me on the fire escape. "Wow, I really am gross."

"Yeah, but I still love you, Barf Boy."