#mentallyundone

Part two to "Absolutely Smash" | ao3

"Are you fucking kidding m-" Gareth throws his hands up pushing away from the table. "You know what, nope. Fucking jocks man."

The guys all laugh, Eddie included, while they watch the interview they were tagged in on their socials - like a million times. They're not sure why they've been tagged, other than some random (to their fans) person not recognizing Gareth but maybe there's more that happens later. Like some karmic justice enacted out by way of a storm cloud forming above Steve Harrington's head.

They're doing a reaction video and Jeff is hamming it up more than normal, wrapping an arm around Gareth and messing up his hair while Eddie and Grant watch on.

"Alright, focus," Grant finally pushes between the two.

Eddie leans forward, readying to resume the video, "Yeah - I want to see what happens next. Maybe we'll see a bird shit on his pretty little head."

"Oh god, the hair!" And that's all it takes, the room is full of laughter once again.

Once they play it again, the rest seems pretty tame, aside from watching little challenges or extra questions. Eddie really isn't sure what their fans were losing their shit for. Other than learning that Steve apparently has a thing for guys, which Eddie will revisit later in the privacy of his own room, the video has been a let down. Except for Gareth, who Steve did say smash to, at least. A tick in the confidence column for that man, even if he wasn't into men. Lucky bastard.

Why couldn't Chrissy just show his pho-

It's simultaneously the worst and best moment of his life when his photo lights up the side panel and he's launching himself forward, smashing buttons on the computer until the video finally, blessedly stops. "Oh my god, no. Nope! I cannot, we can't." Eddie is shouting, trying to breathe and disappear all at once while the guys are protesting in the background.

"Oh my god," Eddie steps back, hands tearing at the tie before his hair cascades down his shoulders, hiding and shielding him. "I can't breathe, I can't." He really can't breathe, holy shit. He can't watch, on a recorded video, as Steve Harrington announces to the world that he has no idea who Eddie is, or listen as Steve tells everyone that Eddie's just an ugly trash gremlin. Fuck.

What if he does remember Eddie but only because he was trailer trash or –

Ice cold water splashes over him, leaving him to sputter as now soaking wet strands of hair stick to his nose and lips.

"Dude! Pull yourself together," Jeff, normally the most patient, shakes Eddie's shoulder. "Do you want to go to the other room while we watch?"

He's quiet with the question, they don't ever pause their recordings, wanting their fans to experience all of them. They aren't just a sellout, they aren't posing as the self-proclaimed freaks. They really are what they've branded themselves. Their just like their fans, even if they've climbed quickly into the spotlight.

"Eddie?"

"N-no, I'm good." Eddie, eyes wide, looks at Jeff and begs the universe for this to be over quickly.

They set up, once again, to watch the video, the guys now surrounding Eddie in solidarity, while Gareth reaches forward to resume the video.

Nothing happens at first, Steve's face is still furrowed in what appears to be confusion, and if this weren't about him, Eddie would be the first to tease about him having jock brain.

"It's alright if you don't know, you didn't kn-" Gareth, he didn't know Gareth. Which is just unreal. It's not like their group didn't stand out in school.

"Munson?" The air leaves the room, holy shit.

"Holy shit!" Eddie shouts, nearly punching Grant in the nose from how hard he throws his fist up and he's shushed by all three. And thank whatever overlord they have for that because, "Absolutely smash."

Smash.

SMASH.

"Would pass everyone else for a cha-." Someone must have paused the video again because Steve's stupid perfect, pretty face is frozen and the guys are all jostling Eddie.

Holy shit.

"Wait - the asshole didn't remember me!" Gareth whines into the chaos, forehead dropping sharply into Eddie's shoulder.

"He doesn't want to suck your dick, either." Eddie shoves him off, spinning in a circle before facing the biggest crush of his life on the tiny screen. 

"Ah hell." Eddie puts a dampener on their celebration. "It's just 'cuz we're famous." Why the fuck would Steve Harrington want him otherwise. Mr. Popular that didn't amount to anything. Status has to be the only reason. Corroded Coffin had seen their fair share of people popping out of the woodwork for their five minutes during their success, this is no different. Eddie flips his middle finger up at the camera before smashing it against the screen, right over Steve's face, as he presses play again.

"Wait. How do you guys know Munson?"

"How do…?"

"How do you know Eddie Munson?" Off screen, Heather speaks up, and Eddie waits for the proof to his own assumption, the guys crowding in close.

"I went to Hawkins, did either of you go to Hawkins?"

"No fucking way."

"Shush!!!"

"Shut up!"

 "-diana. I left the first chance I could. I never could shake the thought of Eddie though, he's like the one who 'got away'," he puts the quotations up for emphasis. "Not that we ever had a chance, I didn't even know I was into men until a year after I left Hawkins and that I wasn't just insanely jealous of his hair."

Steve waves to brush it off.

"The dimples, right? Uh, so we know him from a different space, I guess. Is that the only reason you know of Eddie?"

"Yeah, I have no idea where he ended up at, he was taking senior year again when I left." Steve shrugs.

"Famous my ass!" Grant crows, arms circling Eddie's middle, pressing his own arms flat against his sides, before he picks him up and shakes him around.

~

Later, when the video is posted, and nothing of their reactions is edited out, the video cuts off there and it explodes across their fanbase.

This lovely thing? https://www.tumblr.com/milf-harrington/709012386449965056/hi-i-wrote-a-short-little-something-inspired-by?source=share

Did you ever write more on it? Because. I'm revisiting old shares but trying to search through the last 11 months for another part that may or may not have been written sounds like insanity to me. Would I eventually do it? Sure. Possibly.

i did actually end up posting a part 2!!

"Hey! Can I ask you a few questions?" A petite woman with strawberry blonde hair bounds up to him, stopping Steve short from where he was about to put in his last ear bud for his run. She's followed by another woman with a phone out, presumably recording whatever is going to happen next.

It's not like Steve hasn't seen videos like what he's going to star in, where people are 'randomly' selected from crowds or off the sidewalk - sometimes to play games and sometimes to just answer some questions. Most of those videos aren't cruel or poking fun at someone's intelligence, which is why Steve's pretty okay with lowering the hand with his last headphone. He hopes she's not out to prove him wrong and make him regret this.

"Hey," he nods to both women, smiling a little, while waiting to see what's going on, "shoot!"

"Perfect! I'm Chrissy and that there is Heather," Heather's lifts a hand in front of the camera to wiggle a few fingers both at him and to show the audience that she is in fact there, "we were just wanting to do a little quiz with you, if you're down? I'll show you some pictures and we'll see how many people you can name."

Damn, that's a point in the potential for having his intelligence mocked, either in person or by any of the people that view this.

"You can call it quits whenever, swear!" Some hesitance must have shown through, leading Chrissy to lay a manicured hand against his arm, pink nails shining in the sunlight.

He can't back down now.

The first picture she shows is actually easy - Chrissy shows a picture from her own phone which he presumes will later be edited into the video for the audience to view as well.

"Easy, future mayor Mamdani." Steve grins at the future that seems increasingly realistic as they get closer to the end of summer and closer to the elections.

"Yes!" Chrissy cheers, perkiness exuding from her very being but before she scrolls to the next picture, she trades looks with Heather. It makes something tighten in his chest in anxiety. Before he can become too worried about what the look means, Heather chimes in quickly, "Smash or pass?"

"Oh easy, smash."

"Pass."

Both Steve and Chrissy freeze, looking at each other when they answer at the same time.

"I'm sorry, did you just say pass?" Steve puts on his best offended face, hand rising to clutch at his chest a little. "Have you seen his smile? Those dimples?"

"I don't know," Chrissy still seems shocked by his own answer that she's lost all train of her own thought. "He's old?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve can see Heather shaking her head against her friend's claim.

"Girl, he's in his early thirties!"

Steve laughs, looking at Heather and pointing his thumb at Chrissy, shaking his head. "Damn. What else do you have for me?"

They move on, Chrissy showing a few pictures with minimal success on Steve guessing the names, but he doesn't even care when Heather keeps calling out bonus questions, varying from smash or pass to asking personal questions and tossing in a couple dares.

"Okay, here's the last one I have for you," Chrissy says after she does her last pushup, Heather having made a challenge between the two of them where they had call out red fruits and the first one to get one wrong or not have an answer had to do 15 pushups.

Steve watches as Chrissy scrolls to the next photo, dark curly hair coming into view with big dimples on display. He can feel his brow dip in confusion, and enough time must pass because, "it's alright if you don't know, you didn't kn-" Chrissy starts to interrupt.

"Munson? Eddie Munson." Steve has trouble lifting his eyes off the screen, holy shit it's been half a decade since he last saw that face and got out of dodge.

"Correct!" Chrissy claps, jumping in place a couple times.

"Absolutely smash." Steve claims, beating Heather to the call out, if she even called that one out. "Would pass everyone else for a chance," he claims loudly which makes Chrissy snort inelegantly.

"Wait. How do you guys know Munson?"

Steve eyes bounce between the two when silence follows his question.

"How do…?"

"How do you know Eddie Munson?" Heather chimes in, and Steve feels a flush crawl up the back of his neck at the focus when he swears that she must zoom in on him.

"I went to Hawkins, did either of you go to Hawkins?" Both ladies deny. "Well, it's a shitty small town in Indiana. I left the first chance I could. I never could shake the thought of Eddie though, he's like the one who 'got away'," he puts the quotations up for emphasis. "Not that we ever had a chance, I didn't even know I was into men until a year after I left Hawkins and that I wasn't just insanely jealous of his hair."

Steve waves to brush it off.

"The dimples, right?" Chrissy says, smiling at him and calling back to the start of this whole game. "Uh, so we know him from a different space, I guess." Chrissy says, a small smile gracing her lips. "Is that the only reason you know of Eddie?"

"Yeah, I have no idea where he ended up at, he was taking senior year again when I left." Steve shrugs.

Chrissy and Heather both thank him, ending the video and when they leave to find their next victim it hits him. "Hey, Chrissy?" Steve jogs towards them, brow furrowed in confusion once again. "That was like, super weird, right? Like. Every other picture was a celebrity or public figure or something, right? Why was Munson in there?" It feels like a weird prank, and way to personal to end it with someone Steve knew from home.

"You might want to google him, Steve," Heather says, both women giving him a last wave before continuing on their way.

~

After his run, Steve completely forgets about the video and the Eddie Munson of it all.

Part 1 | Part 2 | You're Here | ao3

And now I raise you a new fic I'm writing where Eddie assumes his soulmate is a girl and has to get cool with several different scenarios before the ending. (e.g. my soulmate is a lesbian, am I supposed to be a girl?, maybe I am a girl (grows hair out), NO, I'm not a girl, but I do like my hair long, ahhh - my soulmate is probably just a platonic soulmate. We'll be besties. then when he meets his SOULMATE he has to get cool real quick with the fact that Steve Harrington is hot and omg... am I gay?!)

Right? Delicious stuff.

Here's another one though.

They're fighting, the night before the reaping and they don't talk or meet up the day of, they don't even look at each other.

Eddie can't, he's frozen, standing alongside Death on the sidelines, watching the love of his life potentially be called into the games while Eddie can't do anything to intervene.

Because he would, he thinks. He'd volunteer over Steve in a heartbeat, unable and unwilling to watch Steve in the games.

So he's angry. He's so very angry.

But at the root of the anger is fear.

Fear about the potential. Fear of the inability to act. Fear of what he would do.

Eddie wanted to run but Steve refused, said he couldn't. There were too many people he loved that they'd end up leaving behind. He couldn't imagine leaving the kids, god... The kids.

And it's not like Eddie wanted to leave them behind either, but... He had such a bad feeling about this year, Steve's final year.

There's no danger to Eddie's life but he's more scared than ever because of it.

So. They don't talk. They don't meet up for breakfast. Steve doesn't see Wayne like he would any normal morning.

Eddie doesn't get to kiss him or tell him he loves him.

Because they're fighting. And it's so stupid. But Eddie is so spitting angry.

So when they call Robin's name, something so cosmically wrong to him (and something Eddie never in his life imagined happening), Eddie just knows what's going to happen next. There's a growing pit in his stomach and finally, finally, his eyes find Steve, watching the resolve settle on his shoulders, watching as he stands taller.

And Eddie just knows that this is going to be the end of him.

Because there's no way Steve is coming back to him. Not after this.

Bob Newby has just barely started to reach towards the fishbowl with the boys names before he's interrupted, "Me," and Steve's voice rings loud in the crowd, "I volunteer as tribute!"

And the claim is finalized with an anguished cry from the stage where Robin Buckley is being restrained from darting forwards - towards Steve - begging for him to take it back.

Eddie... he can't watch anymore. He can't handle the final nail in the coffin. Eddie turns away, pulling away from Wayne and the gentle but firm hand on his shoulder.

Steve won't survive this.

Its not that they regret it either, it was hilarious the first day, funny the next week and now.. well.

Eddie CANNOT handle spice, he thinks ketchup is a bit much. He's been a shade of deep red for going in two weeks now, carrying that damn can of Hot Steve with him everywhere! He puts it in everything.

Last night, Gareth saw him dunk his ice cream cone in it.

Five minutes ago he watched as Eddie added a healthy dose to his popcorn. And Gareth...

Well now Gareth is ushering one of his best friends from the theater and they're getting cussed oit for the absolute hurricane known as Eddie Munson that is coughing up a storm.

If his friend wasn't about ready to keel over dead he'd make a joke... but he has some restraint!

Until Steve Harrington walks over, hands raised and trying to see what happened to Eddie.

And... well, Gareth learned he has another thing in common with Eddie.

He has no filter.

"He was choking on a mouthful of Hot Steve!"