- RETROMIX + HEATMETAL

[camarod]

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[camarod]

[He catches it with both hands, finds himself suspiciously touched by the gesture and puts it down to getting a full 8 hours of (mostly) uninterrupted sleep. ]

Careful, Munson, you keep buttering me up like that and I might like you.

[There’s a beat where he fishes around in a kitchen drawer for paper skins, then he comes around, nods at the couch for Eddie to sit. It’s a nice couch, okay. His second nice purchase.

Everything else is a little new-new. Some boxes of furniture he hasn’t gotten round to yet. Framed band posters to be hung. All his energy’s gone into his closet, honestly.

He makes a little grabby hand for the phone and drops the baggy and skins on the box passing for a coffee table.] Give it.

[heatmetal]

Aw, y'mean it?

[ don't mind if he does, flopping down to make himself nice and comfotable in this space he surely isn't meant to be in and tosses the phone lightly to billy. ]

It stared going off like crazy. Dunno what you missed but someone reeeeeally wants your attention.

[camarod]

[He huffs out a laugh, catches it and then gives Eddie a look. ]

You didn’t look? [Billy would’ve, probably. Still, he checks - scrolls, and scrolls, and scrolls and then sits back, smirking.] Dude the future is so fucking weird. [Anyway he’s a rich man -]

- Anyway, what’s up man.

[heatmetal]

Nope, and if you're ever in possession of my phone I expect you to return the favor. [ he grins broadly. ]

Not much. Figured we could hang. Make up for not getting to know each other back in town.

[camarod]

I don’t promises I can’t keep, [he says while his phone goes off again. He mutes it, tosses it next to the bag and reaches down to start rolling. Tries to be nonchalant.]

You don’t gotta pretend to like me to keep me from messing with Harrington, Munson. We’re all good here.

[Listen, Eddie’s had time to process. He gets it; gets it enough that he offers Eddie first draw.]

[heatmetal]

[ those dark eyebrows raise ever so slightly. He takes the joint between two fingers and takes a long drag, handing it back. ]

Look, Hargrove, I get that I wasn't on your radar before - but there's one thing you really should know about me. I don't pretend to like anyone, or anything.

[camarod]

[He takes it back - sits back and inhales long and deep, and thinks he and Eddie might have been friends if they’d met in Cali. Maybe. Who’s to say, maybe they might have ended up friends in Hawkins in the end too.

He scrubs his knuckle over his forehead and lets himself be tired, here. He still can’t quite figure out why his hackles lower around Eddie. Can’t figure out why he wants them to.] Yeah. I guess you don’t.

[They have that in common, he guesses. That and everything else.]

[heatmetal]

Besides, if I'd known you were cool I'da done this a lot sooner. Hawkins is a shit place if you're a square peg trying to slot yourself through a round hole.

[ it could've been nice. in another world. ]

You play any instruments?

[camarod]

Munson I was cool the whole time. [Thank YOU very much. He passes the joint back, would motion to his abs if they weren’t so obvious.]

Drums. It’s been a while. Guitar for a bit.

[Not since his sophomore year, maybe. Became too much of an easy target at home. ] Basketball ended up taking up all my time. Shit happens.

[heatmetal]

[ yeah those sure always on display. he lets his gaze drop to take them in as he takes the joint in hand, gesturing with it. ]

Ah. And that was the disconnect. [ he takes a drag, holding it in his longs, then lets it out slow through his nose. ] The Basketball team thrived on making my life a living hell.

But drums? I can work with that.

[camarod]

Yeah, I buy that.

[Some of the younger kids even Billy would have decked in the halls. Hell, even his friends.]

Fuck, I can still keep a beat. Might even get a set here now I’m loaded. [Humblebrag.] You see they do electric sets now?

[heatmetal]

Just what are you doing for cash?

[ he draws his legs up, tucking it to his chest as he passes the joint back, bobbing his head in a nod. ]

[camarod]

Construction. And other exploits.

[This is the easiest to explain, but there is a devious glint to his eye as he slips the joint between his lips and reaches for his phone. He unlocks it with a swipe, tap taps and then it extends it out with his OnlyStans open, profile mode only - the content is there if he bothers to scroll.

Three thousand subscribers.

He exhales out a plume of smoke, grinning.] Ten dollars to subscribe.

[heatmetal]

[ eddie's eyes go wide and takes the phone, not hiding the fact that he's checking out this... entrepreneurial pursuit. ]

The future is wild. [ he hands the phone back, folding an arm behind his head and considering. ]

[camarod]

They are into the scars, dude. It’s fucking weird as shit.

[Take the joint, Eddie, he’s gotta laugh at the absurdity of his dick paying for his life of luxury. ]

If dealing doesn’t work out, you got options.

[heatmetal]

Scars are sexy. Your followers have good taste.

[ taking it, tilting his head back and mulling it over. he holds onto it a little while longer this time, eyes lowering to half-mast. ]

If I'm gonna sell my sex appeal, it's going to be on a stage. [ his lips quirk in a slightly soft smile. ] Dealing's just a way to get by. Always has been. Take me out back and shoot me if I'm still doing this when I'm thirty.

[camarod]

You want some sex appeal then we gotta work on those arms Munson.

[Noodles. Etc. Billy considers him, though: remembers tracing the contours of his face half-wasted and thinking pretty. Sober he sees all sharp edges, eyes so dark they could suck someone in.

It’s not hard to imagine people would be drawn to him, especially on a stage. He could a billion girls and boys fall in love with that kind of pull.] And tighter pants, amigo. Everyone goes to a show for the ass. Musics secondary.

[heatmetal]

Ugh.

[ he folds an arm over his face, laughing as he holds the joint back out. ]

I am noooot about working out. [ he moves his arms, glancing down at the pants he's currently wearing. ] Those I can do, though. I'm thinking leather.

[camarod]

Shit Munson, you rock up in leather pants I might even fall for you.

[This Is A Joke; he’s even laughing, plucking the joint back and inhaling deep, holding it in. His head is blissfully empty for the moment, stays that way when he exhales out and visibly seems to relax into the couch.]

You had a band, right? In Hawkins? You recruiting here?

[heatmetal]

I'll consider that my greatest accomplishment.

[ he bats those pretty eyes and considers, then nods. ]

I'm not built to be a solo act.

[camarod]

Sick.

[Pointedly ignoring those batting eyelashes, thank you, take the weed -]

You sing too, Munson?

[He hadn’t considered that, before. Can’t remember enough of his last months before Vecna to recall of Eddie ever told him.]

[heatmetal]

[ taking it. ]

I'm better at screaming than I am singing, but yeah. It's passable.

[camarod]

The whole package.

[There is one thing about Eddie Munson: he always finds the goods that leaves Billy feeling a little boneless. A little loose limbed and less shitty.

He racks his knuckles against Eddie’s thigh, a quiet little you’re okay actually.] You still owe me a song. I want vocals. Might even drum if I’m felling nice.

[heatmetal]

Forgot my guitar. Unless you want acapella.

[ he grins. ]

[camarod]

Nah I can wait. Trying this new thing called patience. It’s a real buzzkill.

[A matching grin. ]

Speaking of buzzkills, [a little gimme for the joint -] where is that pretty boy other half of yours?