#phazes

Chapters:

Showtime was in two hours and all of the dancers were sitting in front of their mirrors. While it’d be fun to watch them paint their faces, Eddie had to check in on the band and the bartenders. It’d been a week of being short staffed, so as much fun as it was to play with the band, he’d been stuck behind the bar instead. A ‘Help Wanted’ sign had been posted outside but no one had taken the bait yet. 

All the tables were set, chairs tucked in and candles in the middle waiting to be lit. The bar was already wiped down and Ginger stood behind it, cutting lemons and limes to fill the fruit tray. Her short hair was pushed back with a red bandana and she smiled when Eddie walked up. 

“Come to tell me we finally have someone new?” She picked up the different fruit slices and placed them in their sections before turning to grab cherries from the cooler behind her. “The silence in response is really comforting. At this point I’m just gonna grab a stranger off the street and tell them to pour.”

Eddie wishes she was joking but he also knows that if she could do that, she would. She’d just grab someone by the back of their shirt and plop them next to the beer tap all night. 

“Ginger!” He gasps, bringing a hand to rest on his chest. “You would allow any stray behind our bar?” To top it off he drapes over the bar, tilting back until he’s looking at Ginger upside down to flutter his eyelashes with a pout. “I thought you loved me! Trying to send me away so soon!” 

“Yeah, yeah. I can love you just as much when you’re not behind the bar too. This area is my stage - gotta have my own space to shine.” She grins, revealing twin dimples in her cheeks. Eddie pushes off the bar with a smile of his own and pops a cherry into his mouth before Ginger can stop him.

~

Showtime. The velvet curtain rises right as the band starts to play. Eddie can see it all from the bar: flashes of lights revealing shadows of four people on stage. Chrissy’s voice rings out and a spot-light centers on her. 

It doesn’t matter how long she’s been singing at Phazes, she always blows him away. She goes by ‘Angel’ on the stage and the lights make her look the part. There’s almost a halo around her as she dances, turning back to the audience with a knowing smile. Eddie’s seen many men and women fall for that smile. 

When they’d first met, she’d been just another one of his customers at the Cosmic Lounge, a tiny smoke filled bar that hired him shortly after he moved. It’d taken some time, weeks of small talk, to finally convince her to hang out at the bar instead of going home with someone new. The Chrissy he met back then would probably laugh in his face if he tried to explain where she’d be in just a couple of years. 

More lights swing onto the stage, Jonathan choosing to dim the lights on the three back up dancers to keep Chrissy as the main focus. The other three dancers are frozen in different poses. It doesn’t matter that the lights are dim, there’s enough glitter on their outfits to make them sparkle even in the dark.

Chrissy squats down at the same time the other dancers start to move, standing fully right as the band picks up speed. She sings about cold gin and hot music, and then throws a fake punch towards one of the girls. They all scatter across the stage and another singer picks up the verse. Fin sings about slicking their hair back and kicks a leg towards the audience with a grin and raised brow. They’ve dressed more masculine today, taking on the persona of ‘Ken’ instead of ‘Barbie’. No matter which way they lean, Fin always looks stunning. Tonight is no exception with a sheer black button down tucked into the tightest pair of latex pants Eddie has ever seen. Fin must’ve just conditioned the pants, light shining off of them as they move away from the spotlight so someone else can sing a line.

He knows that’s not an option in the back, so Fin must’ve checked with Robin to bring in their own outfit. Robin made a good call letting them wear it though - they look hot. In the blink of an eye, another verse ends and Michael picks up the song. He’s got on all black as well, but his torso is covered with a tight corset covered in glitter. It feeds into tight leather shorts, showing off the curves he has when he’s dressed as ‘Baby’. 

(Finding out that Michael actually has the flattest ass Eddie’s ever seen had him laughing hard enough to fall to the ground. Michael did not find it nearly as funny. But he did accept the job offer and ‘Baby’ is just as much a star as ‘Angel’ is.)

Darkness covers the stage for a moment and then ‘Baby’ is center stage, belting about being no one’s wife while the others dance behind her are showering her in gold confetti. As the last pieces fall, the lights dim before fading entirely and the curtain begins its slow descent.

When they first started the club, it had been a bit harder to fill the seats. Now, only one number in for the night, almost all of the tables were full. They’d come a long way from that first night; Eddie couldn’t be more proud. 

Ginger bumped her hip against his and nodded towards a newcomer at the end of the bar.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

~

An hour in and Ginger can handle the bar on her own - she wasn’t joking when she said this is her stage. It’s an art form watching her walk from end to end, turning to swipe a card to close a tab or top off a beer; almost a dance of her own. She has a certain grace to her that lets it seem like a compliment when she insults your drink choice as she mixes it. Eddie could watch her do this all night but he’d like to check in on the crew backstage before the next number. He offers a quick two finger salute and swipes the tray he’s filled with everyone’s favorite drinks. 

“Drink anyone?” He calls out at the top of the stairs and he barely makes it to an empty vanity before he’s swarmed. 

“Thanks!” Chrissy grins up at him and takes a sip of her amaretto sour. Michael nods in thanks, already heading back to their vanity where a different wig sits ready to be put on. Dark hair is flattened under Michael’s wig cap and Eddie knows it’ll stay in the same smushed state when he finally takes it off.

Robin calls out to Eddie from the Closet, shoulders tense when she turns to go further in. He clicks his tongue and grabs her Greyhound, juice splashing out of the glass at the movement. 

The Closet isn’t really a room so much as it’s a hallway. There’s a room at the end of the hallway that houses all of the less common costumes or tricky props. Robin’s got a sewing machine tucked in there too for any minor repairs needed. 

She flashes him a smile when he holds out her drink, and it makes the sticky hands from the spill worth it. A quick sip and then the glass is placed back in his hands so she can grab a hanger. A quick trade and she has her drink while he looks at the hanger. Eddie thinks it’s supposed to be a dress. It honestly looks like two long scraps of deep red fabric. 

“This is supposed to be worn for one of tomorrow’s numbers.” And then it clicks. The two scraps of fabric he has are supposed to come together to be a dress for Abigail. She started about a month ago and tomorrow’s her first day in the spotlight. “Abi tried it on earlier but the zipper completely busted. Seems like my patch up job from last time wasn’t good enough. I know it’s short notice but is there any way we can get Missy to look at this? Otherwise we’re going to have to move Abi’s number again. And I will not be the one delivering the news before you even ask.”

Eddie understands the trepidation. They’ve been prepping ‘Peach’ for a spotlight for a couple weeks now, having her try out different dance routines to find the best one that matches her style and attitude. Abigail’s specialty is pulling off the innocent looks despite becoming more and more scantily clad. Eddie can already think of a couple regulars that are going to love her performances. Even if it seems like they’re getting sidelined again.

“We’ll see. Missy just mentioned being swamped the next couple of weeks. She’s getting busy with prom season coming up, but maybe she’ll make some time for her favorite customer.” He says it with a wink, but he is a little worried about what Missy’s going to say. He might’ve endeared himself to her but that doesn’t mean she’s a miracle worker. Eddie’s already thinking through what time to get up so he can get her some coffee and croissants from the bakery she’s always raving about - maybe it’ll even save him the stink eye he knows he’ll get. First he’s got to find Abigail to let her know that ‘Peach’ might be waiting another week so her dress can be fixed or replaced. 

~

Somehow, Abigail doesn’t burst into tears when he tells her the news. It’s almost worse seeing her sigh in resignation before turning towards her mirror again. Eddie knows if Chrissy was sitting beside her, blue eyes would be looking up at him like a lost puppy. It sucks but it’s not something he can really change right now. They could throw another dress on Abigail, but it would feel cheap, like they weren’t really giving her the spotlight she deserves. 

“Eddie, it’s fine. I know you’re not doing it on purpose. Sometimes the costumes tear. Guess you just owe me an extra drink tomorrow instead.” She smiles in her mirror, brown eyes softening at his tense posture. “I mean it. Unless you’ve been back there with some scissors. You got something to confess?” 

Her words warp slightly, southern drawl making her words come out like a disappointed mother. The contrast with her bright red lipstick and smokey eye makes him laugh, tension leaving his body. 

“Nope!” Eddie raises his hands in mock surrender and grins. “No scissors here, Robin won’t even let me in the storage room because her child is in there.” The child in question is her sewing machine and all of the different spools of thread she’s sorted. 

Abigail shakes her head with a laugh and Eddie feels the last of his worry leave him. He should know by now that his workers know he has their backs, it’s only fair for them to trust him when he says he’s doing what he can to fix something.

~

There’s a man talking to Ginger when Eddie makes his way back to the bar. The stranger sticks out like a sore thumb, a striped polo tucked into jeans with scuffed up Nikes. He looks like a country club reject. 

“Please, just let me do a trial run tonight and if you still don’t think I have what it takes then don’t worry about paying me.” 

He sounds desperate and Ginger’s green eyes flick to Eddie’s when he approaches. Eddie tries his best to look unbothered and offers a shrug. He trusts her judgement, even if the guy’s a poster boy for golfing. 

They need the help. If she wants to give this guy a chance, why not? Eddie’s sure that he isn’t going to last the night, let alone an hour in their club. Phazes is open to everyone, which means sometimes they see bankers just out of work, and other times they see couples in full leather harnesses. 

Ginger focuses back on ‘Country Club’ and nods to herself. 

“One night. That’s all you get, Steve. I run a tight ship so make sure you keep up.” She places a tray in front of Steve, ice clinking against the glasses at the movement. “That’s the table these drinks belong to, good luck.” And then she’s pointing over at a couple of their regulars for Steve to approach.

“Thank you! You won’t regret this.” Steve shows no fear walking into the crowd and up to the table. He calls out the drinks and places them down swiftly when a customer raises their hand for it. 

“So, what’s his story?” Eddie leans against the bar when he asks, head turned towards the stage so he has an easy vantage point to see Steve. 

“Dunno. Just said he’s been looking for a job for a couple weeks now, mentioned he’s new in town. As if you couldn’t tell. No one walks into a place like this looking like that.” She moves a couple empty glasses from the bar and sets them in the sink to be washed later. Steve makes his way across the floor with an ease people don’t normally have on first days, like he’s made to talk to people. 

The more Eddie watches him, the more he realizes that the polo works for Steve. It’s tight across his shoulders and if he moves the tray just right, the outline of his shoulder blades pop out. His jeans hug his legs nicely, especially when he cocks a hip while he’s talking to someone. It’s a little infuriating seeing him glide so easily through the crowd, that was something Eddie had to work weeks on when he first started at the Cosmic Lounge.

When it looks like Steve’s circling back towards them, Eddie shifts to the end of the bar so he can watch his interaction with Ginger. The tray gets set between them, empty glasses bumping together. Steve flashes a worried smile at Ginger who just laughs it off with a wave of her hand. Eddie can’t hear what the two are saying to each other, but he watches as Steve relaxes slightly and starts talking again - seems like he’s explaining different orders for different tables. 

Ginger purses her lips and rests a hand on her hip as he talks. She says something that has Steve laughing and nodding. To Eddie’s surprise, Ginger lets Steve behind the bar and they start filling out the orders. Steve’s been assigned to filling glasses with beer while she makes different cocktails. There’s an easy energy between them, like they’ve been doing this for years. It doesn’t take long before another tray is full enough for Steve to make a run to a couple tables. He comes back with an easy smile and cards to close tabs with. Ginger closes the tickets quickly while he places the other drinks on his tray. She places the cards down with receipts wrapped around them and a couple pens before Steve walks off again.

“Well, looks like you’ve got this handled.” Eddie knocks twice on the bar and Ginger’s eyes almost close from how big she smiles.

“You’ll let me keep him?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t thank me yet. We’ll see if he survives the night. Send someone over to get me if he bails or doesn’t work out.” 

Ginger plants a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek and then spins towards the sink to start washing a couple dishes. There’s a lightness about her, now that she’s not the only one tending the bar. 

Eddie hopes he doesn’t regret this. At least he’ll finally be able to play with the band again.

~

If the sweat gathered at the small of his back wasn’t a sign of a good night, then the soreness in his fingers definitely was. The grin on Eddie’s face hadn’t left since he joined the band at the left of the stage and his cheeks felt tight from it. So worth it though. Last call had come and gone, leaving just a couple stragglers closing their tabs with Ginger before stumbling out onto the street. It’d probably be another hour before Eddie was able to lock up for the night. 

As always, the band packing up and wiping down their instruments is the fastest part of closing. Everyone’s instrument stays in the alcove next to the stage, so it’s just a matter of unplugging amps and tidying up the cords so no one trips. 

There’s a couple of props hidden in the wings that need to go upstairs so he grabs them on his way backstage. Hopefully Robin isn’t hard to find since she’s particular about where everything goes. Not that he can say anything since he’s the same way about the organized chaos of his office. 

Despite the quiet settling downstairs, there’s music and a symphony of voices talking over each other upstairs. Each of the dancers is tidying up their vanities, shoving makeup into bags, or getting changed to head home. Sometimes they all head out and get a late dinner together to decompress before heading home. Fin’s table is empty though, so Eddie figures they’ve decided not to go out tonight. It is only the start of the weekend anyway. 

“Eddie! Saw you with the band, you didn’t ditch poor Ginger did you?” Abigail teases when he walks behind her mirror. He exaggerates stumbling back and clutches at an imaginary knife in his stomach. 

“How could you suggest such a thing? I would never abandon her! She replaced me with someone who asked about the bartending position. Threw him to the wolves.” Eddie playfully growls at Abigail, right as Robin walks out of the Closet. He raises one of the props he found, a red feather boa, to call her over. 

“So, how’d he do?” Chrissy chimes in this time, lipstick scrubbed off of her lips leaving them stained red. Robin says nothing and just holds out her hands for everything Eddie’s holding. She squints at him with a look that says ‘why weren’t these brought to me first?’ and then stalks over to the Closet again. 

“I mean, Ginger never came and got me. Which means – ” and then it hits him. If Ginger got swamped and Steve dipped, then she might be fuming mad at him right now. “Which means I need to go talk to her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“As long as she doesn’t kill you that is!” Abigail’s words and Chrissy’s responding giggles follow him down the stairs. 

~

Ginger’s wiping the bar down when he rounds the corner. All the chairs are turned over on top of tables so all that’s left is sweeping and mopping if needed. She’s in her own world, moving napkin holders to swipe under them, so Eddie grabs the broom leaning on the end of the bar. If things went south, nothing like helping to clean up to soften the blow, right?

“How’d New Guy do?” She startles and it’s sheer luck that she catches the bar mat she just moved. Her responding glare would be more intimidating if the corner of her mouth wasn’t curved up in a smile. 

She gives up the act and places her rag over her shoulder to focus on Eddie. “He’s a natural. Had no problem keeping up with our usual bunch and seemed eager to learn. It doesn’t seem like he’s got bartending experience but I think he’ll pick it up pretty easily. I can always take care of the ‘fancier’ drinks until he gets the hang of it.” 

Eddie nods along as she talks, sweeping napkins and dirt into a pile. There’s a couple cherries that seem to be smashed onto the floor and his boots stick when he walks close to another table. 

There’s plenty that needs to be done anyway, so he starts with pulling the chairs off of the tables. Only a couple of the candles need to be replaced, but he can do that shortly before opening. He restocked the bar caddies last night, so now it’s pulling and cutting the fruit for all of Ginger’s fun garnishes. 

He’s filled two tubs with sliced lemons by the time Ginger walks in, hair unkempt, when she slides in behind him to wash her hands. There’s a hickey peeking out from the edge of her collar.

“Looks like you had a good night.” Steve laughs when Ginger bumps his hip with hers, drying her hands and reaching for the jar of cherries.

“Mhm, I absolutely will be seeing her again.” 

~

Stomping in the hallway is the only warning Steve gets before Eddie’s beelining to the bar. “Think we can have a little chat, Steven?” The grin on Eddie’s face is stretched, eyes not matching the forced enthusiasm in his voice. He walks off towards the stairs without waiting for an answer.

Ginger watches Eddie leave with a confused tilt to her head. “Oh he is mad.” She whisper-yells the words, like Eddie’s going to whip around and drag her to his office too. “What did you do?”

Steve has an idea, but he chooses to stay quiet. He squares his shoulders and accepts his fate, trailing after Eddie’s path like a late echo.

Chrissy’s still setting her make up out when Steve walks upstairs. She’s humming along to the radio, nodding along to the beat of the song. “Oh, hey Steve!” Her smile drops when he nods silently and keeps walking. Normally he’d smile and be able to chat for a moment, but right now nothing feels as important as figuring out why Eddie’s mad. 

Every step feels heavy, like he’s stumbled into quicksand and the only way out is to keep walking. The bead curtain in Eddie’s office usually softens the light outside, making it more cozy the few times Steve’s been in here. Now it feels ominous, almost like walking into a cave you can’t see the other side of. Eddie’s standing at the window, back to Steve when he steps in. 

“Shut the door, please.”

The click sounds harsh like a gunshot. 

“Look, Eddie -” 

“I’ll go first if you don’t mind.” 

Steve clamps his mouth shut when Eddie starts talking, teeth clacking with the force. “I don’t know how things work where you’re from, but around here we talk to each other. You know, before deciding you know best and go behind someone’s back. I don’t know who told you about Wayne, but we aren’t your charity cases. I don’t appreciate that you think we didn’t have it handled. Thought you didn’t want to be like dear old dad, but here we are. All rich people are the same.”

“Hey, that’s unfair.” Steve’s voice comes out steady even as his hands shake. “I don’t think that. I just wanted-”

“What? You wanted to be the hero?” Eddie sneers the words, slamming his hands down on the table. He doesn’t react when Steve flinches. 

“No. I just thought a friend could use some help.” 

Another scoff from Eddie, “Yeah. Friends. Sure.”

“Could you let me finish? Or do you only care about your own opinion? Life doesn't revolve around Eddie Munson. Maybe if you’d stop listening to yourself talk for five minutes you would realize you’re in the wrong here. I just wanted to help. If it makes you feel better it wasn’t even really my money.”

“Oh, the golden boy didn’t use his own money. Let me guess. Mommy and Daddy helped out? That makes it so much better.”

Steve clenches his jaw at the words. Eddie has no way of knowing, doesn’t understand what he’s saying. He continues his rant.

“What do you think I should do? Phone them up and let them know I’m forever in their service? That their darling son is so helpful and I wouldn’t know what to do without him? Get real -”

“Just stop it!” 

Eddie startles at the volume, eyes going wide. Steve’s hands are still shaking when he continues, eyes downturned. “Stop it. If you really want to talk to my parents, be my guest. They’re buried at Pleasant Valley. Row 23.” 

He looks up at Eddie now, and there’s no satisfaction at seeing the look on Eddie’s face. The other man looks crushed. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. 

“I’m not sorry I did it. I just wish you’d accept when someone does something nice for you. Consider this my notice. If you don’t mind, I’ll finish this shift and then get out of your hair. Seems like that’s what you’ve wanted all along. Not like this is new. I don’t know what I expected.” Steve gets quieter continuously, like these comments aren’t really for Eddie to hear. “Nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone. Why would it be any different here? If not even the outcasts can accept me, what hope do I have?” He chuckles self-deprecatingly before nodding to himself and sighing. 

There’s nothing else to say, and Eddie doesn’t stop him when he starts to walk towards the door again. Right as he turns the knob, Eddie speaks up. “Look, Steve…” Quiet fills the room again, Steve looking over his shoulder to see what else Eddie might say. He watches as Eddie’s mouth opens and closes, sighing when the other man doesn’t speak. 

“I guess I’ll bring in my uniform shirts tomorrow.”

Walking back downstairs is even worse than going up was. There’s an itch at the back of Steve's throat when he slides behind the bar again, and a blurriness to his eyes that means tears are on the way.

“Are -” Before Ginger can start the question, he holds a hand up, shaking his head once and reaching for the key that will let him into the storage closet. 

He steps into the backroom, eyes already watering as he unlocks the storage closet. It’s a tiny space with shelves lining the walls. They look like they were tailored specifically for the inventory they keep: toilet paper, candles, napkins, and straws. All of the extra supplies needed for the bar. There’s just enough space for him to stand between the shelves and the shut door. For a moment, all he does is let the tears fall.They leave wet trails over his cheeks before dripping onto the collar of his shirt. 

The sniffling slowly dried down and he huffs, roughly rubbing at his eyes to clean his face. He wishes he could be surprised but he’s not. No one ever looks at Steve and doesn’t immediately put him into a box. Decide within the first five minutes what kind of person he must be. Chicago was supposed to be a new start. A chance to get away from Providence and a city full of people who knew the Harrington name. But instead, he’s stuck in the same loop. 

What’s the point in trying? Maybe he should go back home. Give up on being something different and become another stranger people pass on the street. Spend the rest of his days going to a job he hates, getting drinks with coworkers he can’t stand, and sleeping alone - rinse and repeat. Maybe that’s all he’s good for. 

But a big part of him doesn’t want to go. Coming into the club on the first night, he didn’t expect to fall in love with the atmosphere, the dancers, and their easy friendship. Wasn’t prepared to connect to the people so quickly, patrons and coworkers alike. He didn’t know he’d be caught off guard by the sensation of being on stage. He didn’t reckon how much he’d feel like himself, maybe for the first time ever.

Something drops outside of the storage room and Steve can faintly hear Argyle apologizing to someone. Right, he’s at work. 

Might as well make this shift one of his bests yet. It was fun while it lasted. He won’t be going on stage but that means he’ll have more time for his regulars. He’ll miss seeing everyone. Maybe if he’s lucky Chrissy and Ginger will call him with updates. 

Despair is joining the guilt in his stomach and he’s swallowing down a lump in his throat when someone knocks. They don’t wait for an answer, already stepping inside and shutting the door with a slam. 

Ginger crosses the room quickly, finger pointed in accusation. “What. Happened.” Bright red nails jab into his chest with each word, her green eyes leaving no room for argument. 

“I…” He chokes on his next words, mind replaying every nasty thing he’s thought or said to Steve since he’s known him. 

“Eddie, I mean it. Why is that boy sniffling in the storage room after talking to you?” 

Fuck, Steve’s crying? 

His stomach churns at the thought, bully running nonstop in his head. How many times did he find someone crying in the bathroom after getting their lunch dumped on them? How often did he get in between a bully and a freshman at the lockers? How many rants did Wayne have to hear about the injustice of stupid social hierarchy? Eddie’s just as bad as they are. In fact, he’s worse. This whole club is supposed to be a safe haven from all of the chaos of the world. Instead, he’s made it Steve’s personal hell. What kind of person does that?

“Hey, come here.” Ginger’s voice is still harsh, leaving no room for argument as she pulls him towards the couch. He only notices his hands are shaking when she takes them into her own, squeezing three times. A silent I got you. “Deep breaths, come on. Need you to stop getting caught up where your head’s at and talk to me.”

It takes a couple minutes and the whole time Eddie is hyper aware of just how nasally his breaths are, compared to Ginger’s steady example. Finally, his thoughts slow down enough for him to bring his own words to life. 

“Ginger, I really messed up.”

She scoffs and lets go of his hands, leaning back on the couch. “Could’ve told you that. What did you do? Can’t help if I don’t have anything to work with.”

And everything spills out.

Every stray comment, dirty look, and insult towards Steve, laid out for Ginger to judge. There’s visible bafflement painting her features with each excuse he tried to offer. She’s not sitting on the couch anymore, instead she’s pacing in front of Eddie in an attempt to keep her comments to herself until he’s done. After what feels like forever, the room goes quiet. Ginger’s steps and their breathing are the only sounds in the room. 

“So, let me get this straight.” She stops in her tracks directly in front of Eddie, one hand on her hip while the other starts a count. “One, you decide right out of the gate that you don’t like him because of his clothes?” Eddie barely nods before she continues. “Two, you refuse to give him a chance to prove himself to you, instead doing everything you can to put down his accomplishments.” He can’t look at her as she continues, head tilted down to look at his lap. “Three, you finally have a genuine conversation with him, only to decide he was lying the whole time, assuming he was being nice to trick you. And now, now, you decide that he’s just a douchebag who…who what? Did a nice thing for you and Wayne just to shove it in your face? Is all of that right?”

“...yeah.” The word is barely more than a mumble, tongue heavy as he takes ownership for what he’s done. 

“I never thought I would say this. But Eddie. You are such an asshole.” He snaps his head up at the words, eyes blown wide. Ginger stops him with a hand in the air and sighs. “He belongs in this family. You better get over yourself and apologize.”

As quickly as she came into the room, she leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.

~

Eddie wishes, more than anything, that Wayne was here to give him some advice. His uncle might give him some tough love, but he knows that the older man would know what to do. But Wayne doesn’t even know about Steve paying the bill and Eddie refuses this being the reason he finds out. Just thinking about Wayne knowing how he’s acted towards Steve makes Eddie want to fall into a sinkhole, never to be seen again. 

Soundcheck has come and gone by the time Eddie walks downstairs, jaw clenched in preparation to apologize to Steve. Except, when he steps off the stage, there’s already a small crowd of people at the bar.  

Steve’s smiling and getting their orders ready, like nothing even happened. Until he looks up and sees Eddie, then the smile falters. A blink and Steve’s mask is back on, focus turned to the woman in front of him when she says something. Seems like his apology is going to have to wait. 

He’s not needed on the stage today, but before Eddie starts on his rounds, he wants to check in with Robin to hear how the weekend went while he was gone. 

~

Great. Perfect. 

Eddie’s staring at the photos Robin has taped in her office. A couple of them are too blurry to make sense of, but there’s one that is stunningly clear. It’s a photo of Steve, center stage and in drag. Steve’s wearing the golden gown Robin picked out for him weeks ago, and it fits him like a glove. 

“Eddie, hey!” Robin walks in with a smile, rifling through the pile of clothes sitting on a chair. 

“Hey, Birdie.” He sounds downtrodden, even to himself, so Eddie’s not surprised when she looks up with an eyebrow raised.

“What’s that tone for?”

Is there a simple way to explain? Instead of figuring that out, Eddie points at the photo on the wall. “Looks like ‘shaken, not stirred’ was a success.”

“Oh!” Whatever she was searching for is abandoned and Robin walks over, standing next to Eddie to look at the picture too. “Yeah. I know we weren’t going to do his drag number until after seeing him in drag, but look at him.” She grins, “Chrissy couldn’t resist. Demanded that Ginger let him be on stage for the one number. You should’ve seen it. The crowd loved him. But you know what he said after the performance? He wished you could’ve seen it.”

And it’s settled. Eddie can’t let Steve quit. Phazes is Steve’s home, just like for everyone else here. He needs to apologize. Tonight. 

~

Ginger’s closing abandoned tabs when Eddie finally makes it to the bar after closing. All chairs are flipped on top of the tables, and the floor looks swept, but not mopped yet. Steve’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Did he already leave?” 

Ginger rips off another receipt before answering, voice smug. “Not yet. Just stepped out to take the trash and get a mop bucket. If you’re going to have another chat, try not to have anyone leaving in tears this time, okay?”

The mop bucket rolls out of the back room, followed by a slightly rumpled Steve. He says nothing when he sees Eddie, pushing the mop bucket closer to the stage to start wringing the mop out. 

“Steve.” It sucks to see his shoulders stiffen, but Eddie knows he deserves the response. “Think we can talk?” Steve stops moving completely, hands resting on the mop handle until his shoulders shrug. 

“Yeah. Sure. Office?” The handle is leaned against the stage and he starts the trek to Eddie’s office. 

~

The tension in the room is suffocating. Eddie knows it’s up to him to say something first, but every time he tries his throat closes and no words escape.

“Was there something else you wanted me to bring tomorrow?” There’s no emotion in Steve’s voice, eyes unfocused in Eddie’s direction. 

“Uh, no. Actually I,” Eddie has to clear his throat, “I don’t want you to turn in your uniform.” 

Steve’s eyes don’t fully focus, but his brow does furrow at the words.

Eddie wets lips before continuing, “Steve. I…I’m sorry.” Somehow Steve looks more confused as his eyes clear, now focused on Eddie, like he’s speaking a different language. “You can’t leave.”

A protest is forming on Steve’s lips but Eddie can’t let him speak. He needs to get all of this out. It’s the least Steve deserves. “Phazes is supposed to be a home away from home. An oasis for people who have never felt welcome. I couldn’t get my head out of my ass to see that this might be what you needed too. I’m so sorry. I was an asshole. I don’t want to be that person.” The confusion melts from Steve’s face, understanding replacing it. “I know forgiveness isn’t in the cards right now. But, do you think we could try again? From the beginning?” 

Eddie feels out of breath, lungs stalling while he waits for an answer. He’d understand if Steve walked out right now and never came back. But he hopes. God he hopes he can have a chance to fix this. 

Steve stays quiet, turning towards the door and stepping out. At the last moment Eddie swears he sees a smile tick at the corner of Steve’s mouth. For a split second hope fills him but when Steve stays quiet Eddie admits defeat. He clenches his fists and sniffs, tears gathering in the edges of his vision. 

A moment passes between the door clicking shut and someone knocking. They don’t wait for an answer and Eddie turns to the ceiling, blinking rapidly to fix himself before his guest can see him cry.

Embarrassment fills his stomach and he finds himself tracing the outline of her diploma on the wall behind her instead of meeting her stare. “I was hoping we could talk about payment plans for my uncle’s stay. He gets transferred today, so I’ll be heading back home soon.” This isn’t the first time he’s had to ask for a payment plan, but it doesn’t get any easier. Most of the time he gets a pitying look with his answer, or they’ll over-correct and he feels like a child. 

“Of course, no problem at all. Let me get your file pulled up. This is for Wayne Munson, correct?” He nods and then Ms. Banners clicks at her computer a few times. Her brows furrow and then she stands, turning to her filing cabinet to retrieve a folder. ‘MUNSON’ is written on the tab when she pulls it open. “Looks like everything’s already been taken care of. No payment plan needed.” 

It takes a moment for the words to register. “What do you mean it’s taken care of? Like it’s already paid? I never got a bill.” Good things like this don’t happen in real life. There must be a glitch in the system, and Eddie’s not going to let this come back and bite him in the ass. Letters from money collectors are never fun, and he can only imagine how vicious they’d be for a bill this size.

“Yeah, says here it was all paid for this morning.” She clicks on something else and leans a little closer to the screen. “Got a call from Midas Investments on behalf of Steven Harrington. Covered the bill for the surgery here and his two week stay at Stronger Together. So, no billing information to share. Any other questions?”

More like a million and one. Most importantly, why the hell is Steve paying for his uncle’s treatment?

~

Wayne huffs and puffs the entire time the nurses help him into a wheelchair. Even though he’s still got a cast on his leg, he’s sure that he could shuffle out of here if they gave him the chance. The Stronger Together van is waiting for them when they get outside, and Eddie wishes he’d brought a camera to capture how quickly Wayne’s face goes from an easy smile as he jokes with a nurse to a deadpan stare. The van is painted a dark green color, with a picture of a grinning woman with grey hair standing in front of what looks like a mansion. Without saying a word, Wayne turns and looks at Eddie and all hope of keeping a straight face goes out the window. Laughter falls out of Eddie’s mouth and soon he’s gasping to try and catch his breath. The nurse helping his uncle raises a brow but opens the van anyway, prepping the lift for the chair to roll on to.

“Shut it, boy.” Just looking at Wayne’s disgruntled face is enough to set him off again, so Eddie opts to look at the sidewalk to calm his laughter down. As much as he knows Wayne’s going to hate being coddled for the next two weeks, it’s the best route to make sure that his leg goes back to normal. Plus, since Steve’s decided to flaunt his money around, it’s already paid for. No excuse to fall back on to bring him home instead. 

“Sorry Uncle Wayne, you should’ve seen your face. That would’ve been a good one for the album.” He still can’t look at his uncle, eyes trained on the frayed end of his laces instead. Eddie’s face hurts from the sudden laughing fit. 

“Probably not as good as the close up shot I have of you falling face first at karate. That one’s a keeper.” And suddenly it’s not funny anymore. Wayne’s nurse smothers a laugh but a smile’s tugging at their mouth when they step down from the van.

“Alright, you’re all set Mr. Munson.”

Before Wayne can do his ‘Mr. Munson was my father’ line, Eddie steps forward and pats a hand on his shoulder. 

“Alright, old man. Think you can survive the next two weeks without your darling nephew around? I know it’ll be hard, anyone would miss this handsome face, but my adoring public await me in Chicago.” 

“Mm, I think I’ll be just fine. You’re taking all the crazy with you. Make sure your adoring public knows I’m fine. I’ll call Scott once I’m settled.” Eddie opens his mouth but Wayne continues, “Of course I know you’re sending him to check up on me. Might’ve been born in the morning but it wasn’t this morning. Be good. Drive safe, let Scott know when you make it home.” 

~

If Eddie could change one thing about Chicago, it would be the traffic. Nothing is as stressful as hoping his van doesn’t cut out in the middle of stop and go traffic. Luckily, he’s got something else to focus on this time. Like why Steve thinks it’s okay to go behind his back and pay for Wayne’s stay. It would be different if Steve at least checked in beforehand, just a simple call, so Eddie could say ‘thanks but no thanks’ and they could continue on. And who even told Steve about what was happening? Nancy and Steve aren’t close like that, and she’s the only one that Eddie mentioned rehab to. Unless…no, there’s no way Robin said anything either. She might ramble a lot but that doesn’t mean she’s airing out other people’s business like this. He’d try to swing by their apartment to ask about it but Phazes is opening soon, so that’s out of the question. 

But Missy won’t be too busy. No harm in stopping by her studio to see if she’s around. No coffee run beforehand, but she’ll hopefully forgive him. This isn’t a work call anyway. 

~

His van survives the trip to Missy’s and if the lights on inside are anything to go by, he’s caught her before closing. There’s a repetitive tapping sound of the sewing machine coming through the door, but he knocks anyway. He reaches for the handle and shakes his head when it turns easily to allow him inside. 

“Knock, knock!” The tapping abruptly stops and music fills the space instead. Missy must’ve put on some music while she worked. “Do you want me to lock the door? Thought you’re supposed to be closed right now.” 

“Depends. Are you here on a work call or for fun?” Missy smiles and leans back, sighing when her back cracks. Eddie can only guess how long she’s been bent over her table. 

“Just a social call. Let me lock the door, be right back.”

~

“Okay, let me make sure I’m understanding this.” Missy sets her water on the table, and leans forward on the couch. “You’re frustrated because you don’t have to pay a hospital bill?”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes and settles on shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t have to pay the hospital bill. Trust me, that is one bill I was happy to not know the numbers for. It’s Steve thinking that one civil conversation means he can just start poking his nose into my business. I don’t even know who told him about what was going on. I’m not a charity case for him to fix.”

“Eddie -” 

“I thought he was better than that. More than what his money could do for him. It just feels like he was pretending. I don’t like liars.” 

And isn’t that the main issue? It feels like Steve just waited to find out his weaknesses. Eddie wonders if that’s how he endeared everyone else at the club to him too, waving his wallet to try and fix all of their problems. It makes him sick to think about. 

“Eddie, I don’t think that’s what he was doing.” Missy’s brows are furrowed, voice placating as she continues. “It is a lot of money, but it’s just the same as one of us covering coffee or dinner when the other’s waiting for their next check.”

“No, it’s not. It’s really not. Missy, I never told him I was going to see Uncle Wayne. I just went. That’s not weird to you?” Eddie’s heated up now, words sharp and quick, trying to make Missy see his side of things. “How did he know that Wayne was in the hospital anyway? And finding out which hospital he was in is creepy. You can’t deny that.” 

Missy nods in concession and sighs, sitting back against the arm of the couch. “Okay, yeah, that is a little weird. Maybe just talking to him about boundaries is enough, no need to go to him like this.” She gestures vaguely at Eddie. “That’s the only thing I think needs to be brought up, boundaries and maybe a thanks.” 

He’s rolling his eyes before she even finishes. “I can’t believe this. You don’t even know him and you’re on his side!” Eddie stands and sets his own glass on the table. It only takes a moment to slide his jacket back on and he’s stepping towards the door. 

“Eddie, c’mon, that’s not how I meant it! Don’t leave.” Despite her words, Missy doesn’t stand to stop him, so he scoffs in response and stomps over to the door. 

Frustration is still coursing through his veins when he gets home. It’s one thing for everyone at Phazes to love Steve, but for Missy, someone who hasn’t even met the guy to take his side? Too far. 

This is the final straw. 

He invited Chrissy to come along this time. Partly because this is one of his favorite places in Chicago but mostly because he’s hoping she has some kind of answer for him about Eddie. It’s not the first time they’ve hung out outside of work, but it is the first time Steve’s suggested a place instead of following Chrissy’s lead. She’s shown him a lot of cool spots in Chicago, but apparently she’s never made it here.

She’s waiting outside when he walks up, hands shoved into her jacket pockets while she people-watches. A couple sits a table away from her, hunched over their steaming cups while talking about something Steve can’t quite make out. Lucky for him, Chrissy’s probably heard the whole thing and will tell him all about it once they get inside. 

“Hey, Chrissy! You didn’t have to wait outside for me, I know it’s getting kind of cold this time of year.” Steve waves as he walks up, pulling the door open right as Chrissy joins him.

She grins and does a tiny curtsy before stepping in. “It felt wrong to go in when you were finally showing me a place. Imagine if you just walked into the field museum without me, you’d have seen all the coolest parts already.” 

A burst of warm air hits them once they’re inside, the smell of coffee surrounding them as they walk up to the front counter. The drink selection isn’t anything special, coffee is coffee if you ask Steve, but it’s the pastries that have solidified this place as Steve’s favorite. Last month they had a chocolate chip pumpkin loaf, so he’s hoping they have some kind of Christmas themed treats this time. 

“Steve! You brought a friend with you this time!” Joyce must see hundreds of people every day, but no matter what she’s always remembered his name. She’s already grabbed a cup to write on, smiling over at Chrissy. 

“G’morning, Joyce. How’s El doing?” Her daughter had been sick last time he was here, concern etched all over Joyce’s face as she made his coffee. When the phone rang his cup had been abandoned and dropped to the floor in exchange for answering before the second ring. 

~

Uncle Wayne needed surgery, physical therapy, and rehab. Rehab. 

Eddie knows he must’ve gone pale because the doctor was quick to assure him that it was just somewhere for Wayne to stay while he recovered. At least there he’d have nurses nearby if something went wrong, and Eddie wouldn’t have to convince him to do his exercises. Still, the thought of just how much money they’re going to need for that picks at his brain. Wayne deserves the world, but Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll be able to swing this one. 

No one’s mentioned a price for all of the care Wayne needs, but Eddie can imagine how many commas are going to be on the bill. If there’s one thing being poor has taught him it’s to do your best to not end up in the hospital. His stomach is in knots just thinking about how he’s going to make this work. There’s no way Wayne’s got enough saved up for something like this, and Eddie’s been saving, but it’s not going to suffice - he just knows it won’t. 

Maybe Nancy can help Eddie figure out getting a loan from the bank. With Phazes doing as well as it is, maybe they’ll be more likely to give him the money he needs. She’d know better than him. 

“You got smoke coming out of your ears there, boy.” Wayne scans Eddie’s face for a moment, eyes looking at Eddie like he can read the thoughts running through his mind. It’s a look he’s perfected over the years, and one that will have Eddie spilling his guts before long. “Stop stressin’, things are gonna be just fine. I don’t need to go to fancy rehab, my house is just as good as anywhere.” 

“Tell that to the hole in your porch.” 

The only response Wayne gives him is a huff of a sigh and his focus turning to the tiny TV screen in front of him. Wheel of Fortune is on, and just like always Wayne’s acting like the contestants can hear him saying the answer. It’s as good a time as any to step out and give Nancy a call. 

“I’ll be right back, gonna make a call. Want me to give Scott another ring?” 

Wayne smiles at the suggestion, but shakes his head, “No, I’ll give him a call myself. Should be able to hobble down to the phone soon anyway.”

Eddie pulls the door shut when he leaves, letting Wayne avoid listening to the hustle and bustle of the hallway. It looks like the nurses are going around and offering everyone their lunch. Every time the rolling cart gets moved, it sounds like everything in it is about to topple to the floor. He narrowly avoids being ran into by one nurse when he rounds the corner. 

“Sorry!” She keeps walking as she says it, barely slowing down until she’s at the nurses station. Whatever information she shares with the woman sitting there has them both up and rushing further down the hallway.

~

“Yeah, he’s back in Hawkins to take care of his uncle.” Chrissy takes a sip of her drink, something with lavender in it, which made the whole thing purple. She smiles at the taste, but Steve’s more focused on finding out more information on Eddie than continuing any small talk. They’re too good of friends for that anyway. 

“Surprise visit?” Something in his voice must give him away because suddenly Chrissy’s looking at him with a smirk tugging at her mouth, eyebrows raised. Steve crosses his arms defensively, “What’s that look for?” 

She lets the smirk grow and sets her drink down on the table. Blonde hair gets tucked behind her ear and she leans in like she’s going to tell a secret. “Are you finally ready to confess your big fat crush on the boss?” 

“I don’t know if I would say all of that.” Suddenly, there’s nothing more interesting than the drops of condensation on his own iced coffee. Steve clears his throat and continues, “Just worried about him. I don’t know if he mentioned, I mean why would he? But we got breakfast the night before he left. Things were finally…normal? I guess. I don’t know how to describe it. Just thought we’d get to keep that energy going.”

“Steve,” Chrissy’s smirk softens into a kinder smile, “he went and saw Wayne because the hospital called. Something about a broken leg. Hopefully he’ll be back by next week, just wanted to stay long enough to fix the porch and get Wayne’s treatment figured out.”

His brows furrow, ‘treatment’ makes everything sound ominous, like there’s something Steve’s missing, “What else were they thinking besides the cast?”

“Well, since he’s a complex fracture in his leg, they want him to go to a rehabilitation center to make sure the healing stays on track. Plus, as much as Eddie and Wayne like to believe he’s invincible, he is getting a little older. I just hope this doesn’t affect him too much, Wayne’s too good to have to worry about this forever.”

Rehabilitation isn’t cheap. It’s one of those things that works out better in the end for healing, but puts a significant dent in the bank account. Steve remembers hearing about how much it cost for his mom to go through it herself, a fractured ankle needing the best care to ensure she could dance again. One of those cautionary tales that lost their steam when told to spoiled rich kids. 

Thinking about Eddie having to come up with that money and worry about getting the investment from Thiel has unease crawling up Steve’s neck. It’s not really his place to worry, but somehow he just knows this isn’t something Eddie’s going to be able to take care of easily. 

And then an idea strikes him.

No reason for Eddie to worry about it if someone can help, right?

“Is Wayne’s last name the same as Eddie’s?”

~

The good thing growing up with one Wayne Munson is that you learn your way around a toolbag. Eddie might not know the name of each and every tool, but he knows what they do and that’s good enough for him. Scott mentioned something about coming over with some snacks for Wayne, but Eddie figures he’s still got a couple of hours before school’s out. 

This porch isn’t going to fix itself. 

First, he’s got to check the entirety of the porch and see if the hole means the whole thing needs to be re-done or if the couple of broken boards can be replaced. Some of the nails are starting to wiggle their way free, standing nearly half an inch out of the wood in some places. Eddie can’t recall a time he’s seen the porch in such bad condition. He also can’t believe that Wayne thought walking on this death trap was a good idea. 

Luckily, it’s only the boards Wayne broke through that really need replacing. The rest of them just need fresh nails and they should be good as new. It’d be nice to be able to build up a whole new porch for Wayne, but Eddie’s bank account says no. Plus, he’s supposed to be heading back out to Chicago within the next couple of days. 

Once he figures this out and talks to Ms. Banners about a payment program for the rehab center, he’ll be ready to head out. Scott’s already offered to go and visit Wayne so that he can give Eddie a real report on how he’s doing. They both know Wayne will avoid the topic of his recovery progress, much more likely to distract Eddie with a vivid retelling of the person he’s decided to observe for the day. It’s an expected song and dance, one that Eddie knows he’s perfected over the years as well. Munsons will do anything but flat out say how they’re doing. 

~

Steve beelines right for his bookshelf when he gets home. Most of the shelves have random items on display: his collection of different Hot Wheels cars, a framed picture of him holding his diploma with the Hendersons standing by his side, and, added to his collection recently, a misshapen mug made by little El, a week after he’d mentioned his birthday. The book he’s looking for is on the top shelf, gathering dust ever since he unpacked it after the move. 

The card he’s looking for is still tucked in the front cover of The Little Prince. It looks just like he remembers. A financial advisor’s name in bold font right underneath their company’s logo. 

Work starts in a few hours, so Steve figures he’ll leave a message now and hope he gets a call back sooner rather than later. It’s a pleasant surprise when the agent answers on the second ring.

“Mark Granger.” Just the sound of his voice has Steve standing straighter, like Mark can see him and he has to make a good first impression. 

“Hey, Mr. Granger, my name is Steve…uh Harrington,” Steve hopes Mark can’t hear it when he slaps his hand to his forehead. Great first impression there, Steve. “I wanted to talk to you about making a withdrawal.”  

“Steve! Hey there, champ.” The ease that Mark switches from no nonsense business man to old family friend makes Steve’s skin crawl. “‘Course I can help you with that. We’ll have to do it in person so we can go over the boring paperwork. When are you available?”

~

Steve’s stacking creamers when he sees Mark walk in. The other man sticks out in the diner, with his deep blue suit and light blue tie. It only takes a moment for Mark to find Steve in the crowd, walking over to his booth with a smile and briefcase in hand. He reaches out and shakes Steve’s hand firmly before sitting across from him. 

Fred comes over and pours a cup of coffee without prompting, raising his eyebrows over Mark’s shoulder when Steve smiles in thanks. There’s not a quick answer he can offer, so he just shrugs and turns his focus back to Mark when he opens his briefcase. 

“Been a minute since I heard from you, how have you been holding up?” 

They’d spoken on the phone once before, when Mark let him know that his father had passed and his will outlined that all of his estate and belongings would be going to Mrs. Harrington and a half-sibling Steve still knew nothing about. 

Nothing for one Steven Harrington. 

They didn’t hear from each other again until Steve’s mom passing warranted an in person meeting where Mark laid out all of the assets she’d left to him. She’d been living in an assisted facility when she passed and all of her stuff is sitting in storage now. He opened the unit once, just to see what was inside. 

Shelves with old records and photo albums covered one wall. When Steve cracked an album open it was pictures of her when she was still competing in dance. Newspaper clippings were on a couple pages, boasting the fluid movement of Evelyn Sikes, years before she became Evelyn Harrington. 

Her vanity sat in the opposite corner, lightbulbs still screwed in a ring around the mirror. Curiosity had him pulling the drawers open and a couple tubes of lipstick rolled around when he did, dark black with a gold ring dividing the lid from the bottom. His investigation probably would’ve continued, but suddenly he could smell her perfume and it felt too much like a hug he’d been missing for years. He’d shut the unit soon after that; it’s been a year but he doesn’t know if he’ll ever go back. 

Mark isn’t asking about that though, so Steve just offers a shrug and a smile. “Been doing good. Finally made the move out here. How’s the wife been?” If there’s one thing Richard Harrington taught him, it’s that small talk is an easy in with any businessman. You remember one thing to ask about and you’re set. 

“Linda’s doing just fine, we just became empty nesters ourselves. Patrick’s off to college now.” 

~

Keeping up pleasant appearances has always drained Steve. His natural charm is just about gone when Mark finally scoots out of his side of the booth. He leaves Steve with a clap to his shoulder and an offer to catch up another time over a football game. What team Mark cheers for escapes Steve but he smiles regardless and nods at the suggestion. It’s one of those empty promises that acquaintances make, so he’s not too worried about ever having to show up for it. 

Fred slides in across from Steve as soon as Mark pulls out of the parking lot. “Wanna tell me what all of that was about?” A fry gets stolen off of Steve’s plate while he waits for an answer.

“Just needed to ask some questions about helping out a friend.” Steve doesn’t want to share all of Eddie’s business, even if he thinks Fred is someone Eddie trusts. 

“Ooh, would this be one mutual friend of ours? Dark hair, dreamy eyes, and tattoos?” Steve feels his face heat up at Fred’s suggestive tone, mind conjuring up images of Eddie in sleeveless shirts, checking inventory before Phazes opened. 

“Maybe.” Steve pushes his plate towards Fred so the waiter can pick at the pile of fries left on it. “Okay, yes. But I’m trying to keep this under wraps for a bit. You know how he can be.”

Fred scoffs and taps at the bottom of the ketchup bottle to replenish the pile Steve had already eaten through. “Yeah, he can be too proud for his own good sometimes. You’d say if he was in any trouble though, right? Eddie’s got friends all over town, any of us would help out if he needed us.”

“Scout’s honor.” Steve raises his hand in a mock scout salute, earning a small smile from Fred. “Just wanting to do something for him and his uncle.” 

Fred leans back in the booth, shoulders relaxing when he grins. “Yeah, alright, I’ll leave you two love birds to your secrets.” Before Steve can come up with an answer, his plate is taken from the table and Fred’s heading back to the kitchen, munching the leftover fries with a cheeky grin.