golden boy : stozier

seven

stanley wanted to be anywhere but here. anywhere but at a table of dark wood with dark blue plates and dim lighting. that didn't mean he wasn't eating his dinner, he'd been scolded enough. 

"we're concerned you aren't exactly applying yourself." his father was speaking, but stanley was staring down at the plate. he sat perfectly straight with his head angled towards the plate. 

"would you like to explain yourself?" his mother prompted him. stanley bit his tongue as he took his last bite. he shook his head.

based on the noise she responded with, stanley assumed she wasn't happy with that.

he pushed his chair out, it squeaked against the floor. he grabbed his plates and his glasses and wandered off to the kitchen. his parents whispered about him, like teenagers standing together at a locker. stanley rinsed his plate off in the sink, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

normally he'd entertain the conversation, and give them all the answers they wanted to hear. but he sorta wanted to call richie, and he didn't care enough. as he walked through the living room one last time to make his way upstairs, for the first time in a long time, he wished he'd wake up somewhere else in the morning.

it wasn't that he hated his life, but every day, he felt the weight of the box he'd put himself in.

once inside his room, stanley shut the door and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. he sat down at his desk, covered in neat stacks of papers he had to take care of. they could come later, he figured. he was sorta aching to talk to richie; it was just so much more easy than talking to ben or eddie. 

he rang richie and heard the sound play through far too loud. he adjusted the volume while the phone continued ringing.

"goo-oo-ood evening, papa's pizzeria, what can i do you for?" richie picked up, stanley furrowing his eyebrows as he held the phone up to his ear. richie's voice was relaxing. he leaned back in his chair, disregarding the desk.

"hi richie, what's going on?" stanley stretched his legs out onto the desk. his feet dislodged the papers on his desk, and he didn't worry about them.

"oh nada, i was gonna fuck around, maybe go on a stupid little walk, i dunno. why'd ya call me?" richie replied, and stanley could imagine richie in the same position stanley was in right now. it seemed like something richie would do. 

"mm, just wanted to say hi." stanley replied, rubbing at one of his eyes. 

"cool! today, with mike, i was in the convenience store on the corner, and there was a guy buying one of those two litre milk jugs, and he was so close to making it to the counter when he dropped the fucking jug and it EXPLODED like seriously, i'm talking complete explosion." richie laughed, a sound that hit stanley's ears like a soft blanket. "the cashier didn't even do anything, he was so in shock."

"did he cry? did he do a little crying after he spilt his milk?" stanley asked, richie cackling through the phone. stanley had a little smile himself. he heard plates clinking downstairs, a sign that his parents were finishing up dinner. 

"no, the son of a bitch, get this, he just left the store! the cashier wasn't saying anything because, seriously, what do you say to a guy who just dropped a milk jug? he just fucking left! i... i cannot fucking imagine the sheer embarrassment he would feel." richie continued to laugh, a smile noq glued onto stanley's face.

"jesus christ, i think i would kill myself on the spot." stanley replied. he picked at his nail.

"me too, stan, me too." richie said. stanley found it funny, the way richie shortened his two-syllable name to one syllable. like it was necessary. not that stanley minded. 

"so, what is mike like? and, like, bill and beverly?" he could picture who he believed was bill, staring at him in full confusion at the lunch table.

"oh. they're nice enough. mike and i were getting energy drinks that day, it was nice. but uh, yeah, mike's sweet, and bill's... um, i don't know, he's cool. beverly's... something, jesus. i swear i never see the two of them separate, i swear beverly's always on his damn arm. which is like, y'know, if i had a girlfriend, maybe i'd get it, but god, it's repulsive to watch." richie went on, stanley nodding though he knew richie couldn't see it.

"i get that, i think couples are gross, honestly." stanley had always found it shameful, to be in love. how embarrassing.

"right? like i don't want to watch some girl glom onto her boyfriend every single time i see them. it's fuckin' gross." richie sounded a little offended. stanley heard a stair creak outside of his bedroom.

"shit, my parents are coming, hold on," stanley pulled his phone from his ear quickly, muting richie and placing it on the floor. he pulled his feet down from the desk and grabbed at a pencil, trying to sort his papers together.

the effort was wasted as his mother opened the door while he picked the pencil up. 

"why aren't you working? who on earth were you talking to?" his mother inquired, stanley trying to make it seem like he had in fact been working this whole time. he raised his head up to his mother, and saw the unimpressed look on her face. 

"sorry, i was talking to ben. i was doing homework too, though. i promise i'm on track."

"wrong priorities, stanley. i thought you were better than this. i just want you to live up to your full potential." even though her words always carried the same message, they dug a hole in stanley's stomach, burying themselves in self-hatred.

stanley blinked once, and his mother closed the door. he picked up the phone but held it to his ear silently for a moment, feeling something pulling him down. he felt like an anchor, sinking to meet the shells.

"was that your mom? holy fuck, what a bitch!" richie groaned. stanley couldn't yet place the line between how he thought of his parents versus how richie did.

"um, yeah, sorry, i have to go," stanley muttered.

richie spoke up, "wait, naw, stan, don't go! i'll miss you so bad!" he was joking, stanley knew, but there was a part of him that was thinking the same thing.

"shut up, i have to go. sorry. i'll talk to you sometime, richie."

"oh. okay."

stanley sat in the silence without richie's voice for a moment. briefly, he felt a small anger in his chest. he was perfectly on top of everything, why should he stop talking to someone for the first time in god knows how long? if stanley had made a perfectly fine friend, even if his parents didn't like him, who gave a shit what his parents thought?

he shuffled around in one of his desk drawers, muttering to himself. finally he pulled them out, and dialed the number on his phone.

"hey. back so soon?" richie picked up again, his voice perked up once more.

"can i listen to you talk while i work? i have earbuds in now, and i'll talk quieter." 

there was a pause, and stanley felt a touch of shame at what he'd said to richie heat up his face. "absolutely. that sounds sm-ahshing, stan."