Chapter Text
A person can change a lot in ten years.
During the decade that begins with leaving high school as a teenager and comes to an end in the final years of your twenties, lots of things can happen.
College, for example, opens up the first world of possibilities. You can choose a solid major, use the time to study hard and get good grades, and come out of it with a steady, well-paying job after four years and ride that wave to retirement. Or, you can opt for the late-night parties that leads to skipping your 8 am’s and sends you into the habit of skipping all of your classes, and you end up flunking out before even deciding what you want to specialize in.
Then there’s the relationships. And not those hormone-fueled, teenage crush crap either- real relationships. Some people spend the years after high school single, their main focus being themselves and their own growth. Some spend every weekend with someone new, enjoying the fun of temporary relationships and being in no rush to find “the one”. Others are tying the knot and settling down with a nuclear family before they hit twenty-five.
Some people are unrecognizable ten years out of high school. Others haven’t changed in the slightest. And whether that’s good or bad, well, Richie supposed that depended on the person.
Richie Tozier would have liked to say that ten years after leaving the nightmarish shithole, rebranded as Derry High, he had changed for the better- but even he couldn’t totally convince himself that he was any less of a loser at twenty-eight than he had been at eighteen.
However, he did like to think that he was doing well for himself. At least, he was doing a lot better than what he thought he’d be up to in ten years’ time back when he was graduating high school. Back then, he didn’t have a single plan for his future even on the radar. Sure, his parents had wanted him to go to college, but after he moved out of his tiny, good-for-nothing hometown and across the country to Los Angeles, Richie was all about experience .
Signing up for auditions, applying for internships at every media broadcasting station he could find, working his ass off at crappy minimum wage jobs to keep himself alive- it was all shit and crap and disappointment, but Richie forced himself to keep at it. His parents disguised their disapproval as “concern for his future” , as they liked to call it, whenever Richie made a trip back to visit them in Derry to tell them everything he had been up to, but Richie tried his best not to let their view on his choice dampen his spirit. He kept convincing himself that it was all worth it, that soon it would all pay off.
And it did.
Now, at twenty-eight years old, Richie had a few years of disk jockeying under his belt, his name in the acting credits of a few lower-budget movies and one or two well-known ones, and heavy paychecks rolling in from his job writing for and appearing on one of the most-watched comedy shows on television, with the possibility of his own show becoming more and more plausible before his eyes.
So, yeah. He’d like to say he was doing pretty well for himself.
There was one area, though, in which he lacked… certain success. The relationship department had never been Richie’s forte, and while lots of things in his life had improved over the past ten years, his dating life was still a rather pathetic sector of all his accomplishments.
Richie never dated in high school. He had crushes, of course (well, more like he had a crush, a big one that stuck with him from fourth to twelfth grade), but despite his feelings he had never acted on them. Things were a bit different in Los Angeles- he finally worked up the courage to ask people out, and though a majority of those first tries ended in harsh rejections, he eventually found some people who said yes. Although, most of those relationships never exceeded the first date. Sure there were some who Richie liked fine enough to see again, but no more than three or four times before he ultimately ended things. One-night stands soon became more common than actual dates.
Richie always thought that things would be easier in carefree, easygoing California, but he was very much proven wrong when a year came and went, and then another and then another… and he had yet to meet someone who made him happy, who made him really want to ask them out on a second date, who made him feel that arrow-through-the-heart, butterflies-in-the-stomach, mind-racing, palms-sweating, knees-shaking feeling of L-O-V-E.
Well. There was… one person. One who did all of that for him, and more. But Richie had blown that chance a long time ago.
And besides, Richie didn’t like to dwell on the past. He was more about living in the moment, about focusing on the things he could do now instead of worrying about what he had and hadn’t done, about what he should or shouldn’t have done. Perhaps it was that mindset of his that contributed to his chronic impulsivity. Or rather… his spontaneity, as his mother used to delicately sugar-coat the nasty habit he had developed at a far too young age of speaking before his mind could filter his thoughts and acting before thinking.
Perhaps it was just that impulsivity of his that landed Richie Tozier right in his biggest screw-up in years.
He was back in little old Derry for the week, making the trip back home to see his parents and celebrate his mother’s birthday. It had been four months since he had last seen them, and almost a full year since he had last been back in Derry- and while Richie missed his parents dearly, he couldn’t quite say the same about his hometown. Even though he had offered an all-expenses-paid trip to Los Angeles as a birthday gift for his mother, his parents had refused the offer, insisting that Richie come home to see them instead of the other way around. Despite Derry, Maine taking the number one place in the places Richie hated competition, Richie knew better than to try and win an argument against his mother, and so he booked his own flight to Maine and safely, though unhappily, arrived in town.
Three days before Maggie Tozier’s birthday, Richie managed to slip out of the house to pick up some final things for the celebration. He already had her gift hidden away in his suitcase, but Richie would be lying if he said that his mother didn’t deserve more than just the pair of earrings he had bought her, so he took off into town in the hopes that he could find a few more pieces to add to her present.
Richie had always felt out of place in Derry, and that feeling only seemed to grow stronger during the long periods of time in between his visits. Sure, he could still remember the layout of the town like the back of his hand, and he still somehow knew how to get his way around all the winding streets of Derry easier than the ones of Los Angeles, but there was still always… a strange sort of feeling he had whenever he was back. A feeling of disconnect, of being unwanted.
And unfortunately for Richie, that feeling which took up a little part of his heart expanded greatly as he was looking in the window of a boutique he knew his mother liked, and a voice from beside him spoke up.
“Well, well, unless my mind is playing tricks on me, I’d say that was Richie Tozier standing right in front of me.”
Richie froze. It had been years since he had heard that voice, years since he had even thought about the person it belonged to, but there was no mistaking it. That nasal, condescending voice could only belong to one person, and just thinking of that person made Richie’s good mood drop down into irritable.
He slowly turned, and sure enough, when he laid eyes on Greta Bowie standing before him, any shred of contentment he had been feeling that day promptly fizzled away completely. His childhood bully, on the other hand, seemed to be feeling quite the opposite, Greta had to be nearly a whole foot shorter than Richie and had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes, but the way she looked at him with her lips pulled back into a sneer, her eyes narrowed, her arms confidently crossed over her chest, it made him feel like he was twelve years old again and being looked down upon by the town’s ‘popular girl’ . Christ, it was an embarrassing thing to feel as a twenty-eight-year-old man.
“Wow,” Greta said, sounding amused. “I never thought I’d see your face around here again.”
As much as Richie knew he should have just ignored her, that he should have pretended not to know who she was and continue walking down the street and move on with his day… it was that impulsivity of his that caused him to speak before he thought. “Ah, Greta, was it?” he said. “Yes, yes, it’s good to be back. I’d love to say that it’s nice to see you again and that you look great, but I’ve been trying not to lie as much anymore.”
Richie saw Greta’s nostrils flare and her grin falter slightly, but she straightened up her posture, as if he was trying to prove that Richie’s comment hadn’t gotten to her. “I take it you’re back in town for the reunion?”
Ah, right. The reunion.
Richie had received the notice a few months back, and he remembered letting out a snort of a laugh as he ignored the invite to his ten-year high school reunion without hesitation. Then he had received a follow-up about it a few weeks earlier, and had the exact same reaction. He disliked going back to his hometown in general, but the thought of having to go back to Derry to reunite with all the people who made his childhood miserable? Well, that sounded like a true nightmare.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that the reunion happened to land on the same weekend that he was back in town for his mother’s birthday, but Richie still wasn’t tempted. Not even when his mom had bumped into the mother of someone Richie had gone to high school with and found out that there was going to be a reunion and tried to convince him to go.
No, there had been no point at which Richie felt even the slightest urge to return to Derry High…
That is, until Greta Bowie started running her mouth.
Richie plastered on his fake smile, the same one he wore when he spoke with the higher-ups at his various jobs in the entertainment business, the bosses who always treated him like shit but with whom Richie had to remain civil if he wanted his paycheque. “No, actually,” he said. “I’m only here because I missed his lovely little town oh so much, and of course the people in it. I thought it had been far too long since little old Derry had anything good happen to it, so I figured it was time to change that.”
Greta scoffed. “I hope you’re not talking about yourself.”
Richie had worked hard over the past few years as he rose in the world of television, to learn how to shut his mouth before he said something that could potentially ruin his career. And yet, it was like being back in Derry reverted him back into the teenage, impulsive, smart-mouth version of himself that he just couldn’t control, as he found himself once again speaking before thinking. “Well, I’m certainly not talking about you.”
Greta rolled her eyes, and Richie could see her confidence breaking down piece by piece. He wondered if he would be able to push her into a full-blown meltdown, and he had to admit, the thought of it was tempting. “You haven’t changed one bit,” she said, in a way that was clearly meant to be taken as an insult.
Richie held a hand up to his chest, and in the most grateful and sincere voice he could put on, said, “Why, thank you, Greta. That means a lot. I do try to be humble , but even I have to admit, I am the only good thing Derry ever produced,” he said. Giving Greta an over-exaggerated look-over, he smiled sweetly, gesturing at her. “Case in point.”
Greta sneered, and Richie almost felt like might actually win this argument against her, when she brought up a hand to brush her frizzy hair from her face, and the gleam of the sunshine off of the diamond on her finger nearly blinded him.
In hindsight, Richie knew that the movement was a clear, exaggerated one that Greta only performed to show off her ring, but in the moment he had been so shocked by it, that he couldn’t help himself as he let out a, “You got married?”
Greta’s smile only proved to Richie that she had done it on purpose. “Engaged, actually,” she corrected proudly, though Richie wasn’t sure what the point was. “My fiancé, he’s just incredible. He’s a surgeon, you know? The other doctors at the hospital say he’s one of the finest they’ve seen…”
The little amusement that Richie had been finding in their conversation disappeared the more that Greta talked about her fancy fiancé. It wasn’t so much that Richie was jealous (well… maybe it did have a little something to do with the fact that Greta Bowie found love before he did…), but more so that he was just bored.
“Yeah, yeah, whoop-de-doo,” Richie interrupted, sending Greta a wave of his hand to silence her. “He sounds just lovely. But what I’m more interested in, is how much does he make? After all, that’s probably why you went after him, right? Though I can’t imagine how some high-ranking doctor would ever settle for someone like you…”
He could almost see the steam blowing out of Greta’s ears. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, Tozier,” she huffed. “After all, I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
Richie was starting to regret bringing up the topic of Greta’s relationship. He should have known that she would somehow turn the spotlight back onto him, and when he didn’t respond right away, Greta found her arrogance again. “Though, that’s not very surprising,” she jeered, performing some more exaggerated hand gestures to further show off her ring. “After all, you always were so incredibly irritating, so obnoxious, such a loser. No wonder you’re not married- I can’t imagine anyone who could spend more than five minutes with you and not want to blow their brains out.”
Richie took a deep breath as he tried to keep himself calm, curling his toes in his shoes to ground himself. There were two types of people from Derry: there were those who only lived there because they were forced to by the constraints of childhood and adolescence, and the minute they reached adulthood they were out of that town and there looked back. Then there were those who were born, raised, and buried in Derry, never having stepped foot past the town borders their entire lives and didn’t know anything other than Derry, Maine.
Richie was the former, and Greta was the latter, and knowing those facts, there was no reason for him to be getting defensive over Greta’s words. After all, he was the one actually doing something with his life. He was the one with a successful career. On all accounts, he should have been the one with the upper hand here. And yet, she was still somehow getting under his skin.
Don’t let her get to you now, he told himself. She knows what she’s doing. She’s doing this to get a reaction out of you. Don’t give her the satisfaction.
Greta laughed at her own words. “I mean, I know you’re a wannabe comedian and all, Tozier, but come on- the idea of someone actually loving you, what a complete joke-”
That fucking, goddamn, stupid impulsivity.
“Actually, I am married,” Richie said, and immediately regretted it.
The conceit vanished from Greta’s face in an instant. “You… You’re married.”
“That’s what I said.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to scan his face for any signs of dishonesty, before lowering her gaze to his hands. “Then where’s your ring?”
“I take it off when I’m cooking,” Richie said quickly, remembering all the times his father would remove his own ring before handling food. “I guess I just forgot to put it back on this morning. You see, unlike you, I don’t feel the need to compensate with obnoxious jewelry and constantly show it off.”
Greta seemed to be too offended by the insult to think too much about the lie. Richie felt the back of his neck begin to heat up, and hoped that his nerves didn’t show on his face. He hated getting caught in a lie, but it was too late to back out now. “Is that so?” Greta pushed.
“That it is. Don’t believe me?”
Shut up, Richie! Don’t provoke her!
“Not exactly. I mean, I just think it’s rather… odd, that you only claim to be married after you get your little feelings hurt, and that you just happen to ‘forget’ to wear your ring, today of all days, when you run into me! I always knew that your ego was fragile…” she gave a laugh that sounded more like a pig’s snort. “But this is a new sort of pathetic, even for you.”
Richie had been trying his best to keep himself somewhat composed, but at this point, he couldn’t hold back anymore. “Actually, Greta, I just think it’s odd that you’re so obsessed with my love life,” he snapped, the words coming out before he could even really process them. “I am married, and very happily so. But since you clearly don’t believe me, I guess you’ll just have to see it for yourself when I bring my husband to the reunion tomorrow.”
…Shit.
Richie watched as Greta’s eyes widened, and he tried his best not to let his own panic show. “Your husband?” she repeated.
He nodded. “That’s right,” he said, feeling as confused as she sounded. It wasn’t that Richie was still in the closet- he had come out to his friends back in high school, and had long stopped denying the rumours that Greta and others used to spread about him. But still, he hadn’t exactly been planning on telling Greta Bowie, and the rest of his graduating class about it.
But then again, Richie hadn’t been planning on any of this.
Richie was expecting Greta’s insults to take a turn for the worse at the reveal of his “husband”, but once she recovered from her initial shock, that snarky look of hers found its way back onto her face once again. “Well,” she said, “it seems like this reunion is going to be more interesting than I thought. I’ll see you and your ‘husband’ there, Trashmouth.” Richie could only bring himself glare at her as she strolled away from him, her taunting laugh ringing in his ears long after she had turned the corner.
Richie wasn’t sure how long he stood there. He might have stood there for the rest of the day, his conversation with Greta playing over and over in his mind and haunting him, if it wasn’t for an employee of the store coming out to tell him to come in and buy something or leave their storefront.
Good going, Trashmouth , he thought to himself as he finally forced his feet to begin walking again. He began his journey back home, his original task of buying another birthday gift for his mother no longer on his mind.
Instead, his mind was occupied with a new mission: figuring out how the hell he was going to get himself out of this one.