[ Just because you don't need someone to fight your battles, doesn't mean that you should have to fight them all the time. Richie has taken care of Eddie countless times, after panics and falls (breaking his arm and fearing the descent). When somebody really sees you, they learn how to care for you; that's all.
And they know what you're up to, even when you're playing it cool. The comment about his mouth stills him, hand clasped on the doorframe, and he sneaks a smile over his shoulder. There's not really a way to say thanks for letting me take care of you and rip some bigot a new asshole, so he settles for the equally sincere, ]
Your mom never had any complaints about my mouth.
[ Eddie returns winded but lighter all the same, after unloading a breathless rant on Ms Blythe and her manager both. It puts him in good enough spirits that when they finally reach fast-food, he indulges alongside Richie, polishing off enough fries to make Myra shudder. The rest of the trip goes smoother, apart from a shouting match with a long-haul trucker (and another motel clerk at the sight of a bed bug, god forbid, and an older gentlemen in a Toyota riding their tail, and a barman who snorts when he asks for wine at what is clearly a Cool, Hard-drinking Establishment). And if their next few overnight stops have separate rooms or beds, that's fine. Eddie still lingers in Richie's room whenever he can, using any of his trashy TV favourites as an excuse for his presence.
It goes by surprisingly fast, with blips only when he has to call Myra and his lawyer (holed up in his room or leaning against Richie's sportscar). As they finally cross the border into California, Rich takes the wheel. Not long now before their manic decision becomes a reality. ]
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And they know what you're up to, even when you're playing it cool. The comment about his mouth stills him, hand clasped on the doorframe, and he sneaks a smile over his shoulder. There's not really a way to say thanks for letting me take care of you and rip some bigot a new asshole, so he settles for the equally sincere, ]
Your mom never had any complaints about my mouth.
[ Eddie returns winded but lighter all the same, after unloading a breathless rant on Ms Blythe and her manager both. It puts him in good enough spirits that when they finally reach fast-food, he indulges alongside Richie, polishing off enough fries to make Myra shudder. The rest of the trip goes smoother, apart from a shouting match with a long-haul trucker (and another motel clerk at the sight of a bed bug, god forbid, and an older gentlemen in a Toyota riding their tail, and a barman who snorts when he asks for wine at what is clearly a Cool, Hard-drinking Establishment). And if their next few overnight stops have separate rooms or beds, that's fine. Eddie still lingers in Richie's room whenever he can, using any of his trashy TV favourites as an excuse for his presence.
It goes by surprisingly fast, with blips only when he has to call Myra and his lawyer (holed up in his room or leaning against Richie's sportscar). As they finally cross the border into California, Rich takes the wheel. Not long now before their manic decision becomes a reality. ]