veda henderson

          "There's no way you're scared of horror movies," I deny, jaw slightly dropped as I stare at the Munson boy, his eyes wide with terror and hands near his face in case he needed to defend himself suddenly. I glance at the TV where the movie's credits were currently playing, remembering how he squealed and flinched at every noise. "How was that scary?"

   "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Veda," He shakes his head, repositioning himself on the beige couch we were both situated on. I do, in fact, laugh it up. His reaction to a shitty little horror movie was quite possibly one of the funniest things ever. "I shouldn't be ridiculed because you're a psycho!"

   "You're the one friends with the psycho," I point out, lifting my index finger and waving it towards him like a stern mother. He smiles softly at me, leaning his head to the side until it fell onto the back of the couch. I was sitting sideways on the couch, facing him with my knee under my chin. My black and white Chuck Taylors were around here somewhere, but for now, my black socks with rainbow polka dots were covering my feet. 

   "I thought we weren't friends?" He questions, eyeing me up and down and waiting for my response. I smile sheepishly, remembering how I would never refer to him as anything more than my dealer. 

   I lean my head on the side of the couch as well, maintaining eye contact with him while I thought about my response. "I think you're my only friend, Muffin,"

   "Yet, you still can't say my name right," He comments resulting in me rolling my eyes. 

   "You're right," I agree, lifting my head up again, watching as his face dropped slowly in confusion from my sudden serious expression. "We don't know anything about each other besides the fact that you deal and I use. We can't be friends,"

   "Tell me about yourself then," He suggests, sitting up straight and pressing the tips of his fingers together. I glance at his hands, watching the yellow ceiling light reflect off of his silver chunky rings.

   There was nothing good to tell him.

   "Alright, fine. I'll go first," He loudly interrupts the silence, throwing his hands in the air before turning to his side so that he was sitting similar to me except with his feet on the ground. He was always moving, never staying still for longer than a minute. "My name is Eddie Munson and I'm scared of horror movies,"

   I laugh, ignoring the way he looked at me with a smile as he waited for me to share a fact about myself. "I already knew that," I sat up straight, nodding towards him. "Tell me something interesting like... like why you deal,"

   He turns his head ever so slightly, sending a cheeky smile my way as if to let me know that it was a good question. "My folks ran out on me a couple years ago. Figured I could get some good money from a few chumps,"

   "Happy to be a provider," I use my hands to fake fan myself, pretending to be flattered by his description of the people he deals to. 

   "Your turn," He says, reaching over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. He tilts his head back to throw it in his mouth, his long hair falling away from his jawline enough for me to see it properly. Damn. "Why do you buy?"

   I swallow hard, thinking of a way to tell him the truth without scaring him off. A watered-down version of the painful series of events that lead to me needing self-prescribed medicine just to feel normal. "I have a few skeletons in my closet,"

   "Tell me their names," He responds quickly. 

   "Victor Iglesias," I confess, leaning forward to grab my own handful of popcorn, hoping to put enough of it in my mouth that I can't talk about it any further. 

   "And who might that be, little lady?" He asks with humour in his voice, faking a slight noble accent as he did so. 

   "My religious nut of a father," I speak, lifting my hand up to cover my mouth and stop any specs of popcorn from falling out.

   "Ah, religion," He sighs, falling until his back hit the couch then turning his head to the side so he could still look at me. "What did pops do?"

   "You ask the wrong questions, Muffin. The shorter answer would be what didn't he do," I laugh, stretching my legs out until my feet fall onto the other side of his legs, my calves in his lap so that I could lay down on the couch ever so slightly. With my head tilted back, eyes plastered to the hidden sky, I feel his hand slowly fall onto my leg as if he had strongly hesitated. I position my head to look down my body and into his eyes, a smile taking over my face. "That's a conversation for another day. Maybe ask me again when I'm in the clouds,"

   "You ever think about stopping?" He asked softly. I look at him for a few seconds before snorting hard enough to hurt my throat, dropping my head back so that it once again rested against the armchair of the couch. 

   "Why would I do that? When I'm high everything feels... well, actually nothing feels. Things. Go. Quiet," I whisper, a smile taking over my face as I think about it longer.

   I never saw how people thought drugs were unhealthy ways of dealing with shit or just looked down on it in general. I mean, at least I'm dealing with my shit and not crying in the street for no reason, just looking for attention. Plus, nothing else makes me feel better, nothing else helps me sleep. 

   If they one day invent a machine that can erase the images of monsters and memories of disgraced heroes, I might get clean. Until then, I think I'm doing just fine. 

   "All this talk has made my high drop," I grumble, slowly moving off the couch as if I was melting. I pushed myself to my feet, walking down the hallway until I reached Eddie's room and spotted my bag sitting on his bed. Within the next minute, I was tilting my head back in bliss as the narcotics entered my system. 

   Just like that, the smile returned to my face and I felt like I was floating as I walked down the hallway. I couldn't wipe the grin off my face as I neared the lounge room, calling out to Eddie. "How do you not try this shit?"

   Once I entered the living space and stood in front of him, I watched as his face dropped quickly while his eyes refused to move anywhere except my face. I furrow my eyebrows as he jumps to his feet, tugging the black bandana-type thing out of his back jeans pocket all while walking towards me. Before I could ask him if I had something on my face, I felt his hands gently grab my face, the bandana pinched and dabbed around my nose. "How much have you taken today?"

   "Sorry, Mum. I wasn't counting," My laughter becomes muffled due to his black, skull-covered bandana covering the lower half of my face.

   "This isn't funny, Veda. You have to be careful," He scolds causing my smile to drop from underneath his bandana. He finished wiping my nose, gripping my chin gently so that he could tilt my head up and see if there was more blood coming. 

   "It's just a bloody nose, Eddie," I mutter, my eyes flickering around the room in an effort to avoid the awkwardness of our eyes connecting. His hand leaves my chin, his body moving backwards and away from mine. "Don't be so serious,"

   "It's not just a bloody nose. You are reckless," He states, his voice rising a few pitches. It always seems to do that when he gets worked up, I usually laugh at it.

   I frown, feeling the heat rise in my body. Either from the drugs or the brewing argument, I wasn't sure. But, it was there. "What do you care? You give me whatever I ask for-"

  "I don't want you to die because of me, Veda! You don't use it for fun you use it to live,"

   "How dare I try to help myself," I hold my arms out, getting defensive the more passionate he got over the argument. 

   "This," He begins, snatching the small bag out of my hand to hold it up in front of my face. The full plastic bag he had given me only three days earlier was now empty, powdered residue lining the plastic. "Does not look like it's helping you,"

   "Don't pretend to know me, Eddie," I scoff, hitting his shoulder with my own as I push past him and make my way towards his room where my bag was. 

   Screw this, I'm not gonna sit here and be scrutinised by someone I met two weeks ago. 

   "I know exactly why you use, Veda!" He calls after me.

   I roll my eyes, looking over my shoulder for a split second without stopping my fast walk to his bedroom. "I'm sure you do, Muffin!"

   "Dustin told me you were there when it happened," 

   I pause, letting myself have a few seconds to register what he just said and if he actually knew what he was talking about or if he just said it to get a rise out of me. Slowly, I turn around to face him with my jaw clenched, trying to keep myself grounded and away from the memories. 

   "What did he tell you?" I ask, wincing when I heard my voice break. Please, don't do this right now. 

   "Nothing, I'm sorry. That was wrong-"

   "What did he tell you?" I yell, my chest heaving up and down. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, something that hasn't happened for a while since my Mum was always careful to not speak about any of that stuff. 

   That last bit of my stash better hit soon. 

   "I'm sorry, Vey," Is all he says. 

   I breathe in hard, trying to keep the frustration in as I begin walking fast towards him, pushing past him once again in search of my shoes. I found one down beside the end of the couch and the side of the kitchen island, stuffing my foot in it and tucking the laces inside while I search for the other. 

   "Veda, listen-"

   "No!" I shout, pushing myself to a stand, my chest grazing his ever so slightly. "You have no idea what you're talking about and neither does Dustin. You don't want to kill me? Fine. But, don't pretend that you're doing it for me and not your own conscience," 

   I stay there for a moment, watching as his eyes searched my face for something. He didn't get the chance before I found my other shoe and stomped towards his room where I snatched my bag. 

   He didn't say a word as I swung the door open, walking through without shutting it on the off chance he might prove me wrong and chase after me.

   He didn't. 

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a/n

things might seem like they're moving fast but that's just so we can get to the events of season 4 without the book being 200 chapters long aha.

there's plenty more work into these two :)