Okay hear me out,
The OC and eddie are enemies since like 5th grade. One day she finds a part time job that helps pay rent and that part time job is in a band. She already has an electric guitar at home so she decided to be the guitarist, but the only problem is….. she doesn’t know how to play the electric guitar. She took the job thinking “oh how hard can it be?” Well it was alot harder than she expected. They had a gig in less than a month and she was freaking out because she is supposed to go practice with them but she comes up with excuses every time. She then remembers that the only person she knows that plays the electric guitar was eddie munson. She hated just the idea of interacting with the guy. She had no other choice but to ask him to help her, at first he turns down the offer, but after alot of convincing from mike and dustin he finally agrees. They go back to his trailer and he gave her his guitar instead and said that hers was no good. She sat in between his legs and his hands “wrapped” aroundher to reach his guitar that was in his lap. there was alot of tension and while she is playing his hot breath is on her neck. Then they start talking and he eventually starts pressing kisses on her neck of course she freaked out and asked what was he doing and they started fighting and they finally confess their love to each other all these past years and they make out endo of story.
Electric Enemies - part 1
paring : eddie munson x fem!oc
word count : 2.7k
summary : as requested above
a/n : i’m sorry i haven’t been posting, i’ve been working on this story for daysss | reblogs are greatly appreciated, as well as replies!
September 5th, 1986, Gas station
Valarie had been late on rent for the past 3 months, constantly finding ways to scurry up a sum of money before the end of the month. Her landlord had complained to her many times, trying to evict her as well. She had been fired from her last job at Family Video, where she worked with her best friends Robin and Steve. Valarie had been taking small jobs around town, trying to stick with one for more than a month, ultimately failing. While out at the gas station yesterday, she saw a poster for a band in of a new member. She ran toward the poster, looking for a phone number, her eyes wandering along the photo. At the bottom of sheet 4 tabs hung, with a phone number attached to them. Valarie snatched the perforated piece of paper from the poster. She walked out of the store on to the street, looking for a payphone. She picked up the phone from the hook, inserting a quarter, and punching in the digits from the piece of paper. Ringing came from the phone as she waited for someone on the receiving end to pick up, her head resting on the glass wall of the booth. On the final ring, a voice spoke roughly through her ears, the man behind the phone cleared his through before saying,
“Hey, what’s up?”
Valarie’s head shot up, clearing her through as well before responding back.
“Oh, hi, I was calling about the band looking for a new member, I found an advertisement at the gas station on Jefferson.”
“That’s great, we’ve been looking for a new member for months, ‘you play guitar?”
Damn it. Her first instinct was to place the phone back on to the hook and pretend she hadn’t called, but she desperately needed the money. All of her past jobs hadn’t paid enough for her to keep up with her rent. Her last job at Family Video ended abruptly, due to her and her best friends goofing off during every shift. This new opportunity could be a stable occupation for her to finally pay her rent on time. Valarie already owned a guitar, that had been collecting dust in her closet for the past 3 years. She had purchased it in hopes of teaching herself how to play it as a way to pass time. After 2 weeks it remained in her closet, until today.
“Uh, yeah, since I was young.” she lied. Her voice shook in embarrassment as the man on the phone spoke.
“Great! Our old guitarist quit last week, so we’ve been looking for someone to fill in. When are you free to meet up with the rest of the band?”
Just hang up the phone Val, and find somewhere else to pick up a job. Her hand slowly moved toward the hook, wanting to hang up before he spoke again.
“Hey, you still there?”
Her voice softly shook, placing the phone back up to her ear.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m free tomorrow, if that’s alright?”
“Sounds great! We practice at that old bar down on Southwest street, how does Wednesday sound?”
“That’s fine with me, see you then.”
Before the man on the phone could respond, Valarie slammed the phone on the hook, letting out a ghastly sigh. Her head dropped to the concrete sidewalk below her. She reached for a cigarette and her lighter in her jean jackets pocket. She placed the cancer stick between her lips, lighting the open end. She took a large drag, inhaling sharply. Plumes of smoke shot from her nostrils as she began crossing the street. Her boots dragged across the pavement lazily, rain beginning to drip onto the leather. She looked up as dark clouds began to cast above her, her pace picking up to evacuate the storm that was brewing.
September 5th, 1986, Valarie’s apartment
Valarie tangled with her keychain in her pocket, finally turning her house key in the lock, pushing open her front door. She threw her bag on the couch, immediately darting for her bedroom. She flopped onto her bed, her groans muffled by the pillow underneath. Valarie flipped on to her back sitting up on the edge of her bed. Her head turned to her closet door that was half creaked, a black void illuminating from inside. She walked over to the doors, pushing them apart. She reached up to pull the chain of the light. On the floor of the closet laid her suitcase, along with bags full of her clothes and shoes. On the top shelf sat her guitar. The ruby color reflected off the lightbulb, into her eyes. Her feet pushed up on to her tippy toes, grasping for the neck of the guitar. She stared at it in her hand, look at all the dust that had collected on the body of the guitar. Her hand glided across the strings, a dissonant sound being produced. It needs to be tuned. She sat on her bed, the guitar resting in her lap. Her hand twisted around the tuning keys, trying to produce a pleasant sound while strumming. Valarie leaned her head back in frustration, realizing that this was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. She didn’t know the first thing about playing guitar, not even the proper way to hold one.
“Fuck it, I give up.” she said, throwing the axe down. She got up and began pacing around the room. Tapping of rain drops began to fall on to her carpet. She looked up to find a large crack with water seeping through it. Jesus Christ.
September 7th, 1986, Valarie’s apartment
Valarie sat on her bed, plucking at the strings of her guitar, trying to make out a tune. She had been ignoring phone calls all day, trying to ignore the fact that it was Wednesday. She had agreed to meet with the rest of the band members today, them expecting her to have some experience with guitar. The ringing became louder and obsessive as the day continued, causing her to take it off the hook, keeping it on a busy signal.
“Focus, just focus.” she strummed the first 2 chords, her hand releasing on the second one. Her hand sprung back in pain as the string snapped on her finger. She threw the pick across the room, standing up from her bed. She placed the guitar behind her, slamming her head into her pillow. A loud and agitated groan left her throat, tears following behind. The ceiling began dripping profusely, the thumping sound syncing with her heartbeat. Valarie looked up to the ceiling to see the crack had doubled in size. She went into the bathroom, grabbing the white bucket from the shower. When she went back into her room, a dark stain had damped her carpet. She placed the bucket underneath the crack, the water now dripping louder.
“God, I gotta get that fixed.” she said walking towards the phone. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she dialed her landlord’s number. She softly wept, waiting for him to pick up.
“Hey Val, what’s up?”
“Hey Sean, I’ve got a big crack in my bedroom ceiling, do you think you could fix it?”
“How big is the crack?”
Valarie sighed, looking up at the ceiling, her hand on her forehead.
“It’s pretty big, I think it’s from the storm a few days ago.”
Sean sighed on the opposite end of the phone, writing could be heard on Valarie’s end.
“I can take a look at it later, is 5 good?”
“Yeah sure, thanks-.”
Without a goodbye, Sean hung up before Valarie could finish. She scoffed, placing the phone back on the hook. The phone rang immediately after. She couldn’t ignore it this time. She picked up the phone nervously.
“Hey, is Valarie there? She was supposed to meet us for rehearsal today.” An unfamiliar voice spoke through the speaker.
Valarie fake coughed into the phone exaggeratedly. She sniffed through her nose a couple of time before responding.
“Yeah, I’m here, sorry. I couldn’t come in today, I don’t feel the best.”
“Oh, what’s wrong?”
Valarie looked around, trying to come up with a excuse for her absence. A bird flew past her window, giving her a idea.
“Bird flu!” she accidentally shouted “I’ve got bird flu, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to rehearse with you guys.”
“Bird flu? Isn’t that extremely rare?”
Her eyes shot up, trying to make up a lie quickly before they became suspicious.
“Yes! Extremely! That’s why I don’t want to come in and spread it to you guys.”
“Well that’s very thoughtful, but we’ve got to rehearse soon, we have a gig in a few weeks and we’ve got to learn these songs.”
Shit. A gig? She rolled her eyes back.
“Well, I’ll try my best to come in soon. Thank you for checking up on me, bye!”
“Bye Val-.”
She slammed the phone back on the hook, sliding down the wall, her knees up to her chest. She placed her head in her palms, starting to cry.
A knock on the front door woke Valarie from her nap, a coarse whine falling from her throat.
“Come in!” she yelled from her bed. She sat up on her bed, her legs crossed.
Sean walked through the front door, headed for Valarie’s bedroom. When he entered her room, his face shifted, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Valarie, you look terrible.”
“Yeah I know, I feel asleep with my makeup on, just fix my damn ceiling.”
“Keep talkin’ to me like that and I’ll leave it.”
Valarie looked up at him, deadpanning him. He rolled his eyes, putting down a toolbox.
“So, how’ve you been, I haven’t seen you since you broke your toilet.”
“I didn’t break it, I clogged it, and I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, and neither does this crack Val, this is going to cost a pretty penny.”
Valarie scoffed at his comment, standing beside him.
“Nice joke idiot, it’s not even that bad.”
Sean turned his head to her, then back to the ceiling.
“Yeah it’s not the crack, it’s starting to mold. It’ll cost more to get the mold removed than to repair the crack.”
Valarie turned to him, her face slightly shocked.
“Sean, you know I don’t have that kind of money to get that done, I could barely pay to unclog the toilet.”
“Then call me when you can, I can’t do it for free just because we’re friends.”
“You totally can do that, you just choose not to.”
Sean leaned towards Valarie, gaining some height on her as he tilted his head down. His mouth formed into a smirk. Valarie’s eyes squinted, confused at his motions.
“There’s many different ways you could pay me, not just in money.” His hand lifted her jaw.
Valarie smacked his hand from her face, pushing him backwards.
“Like I’ve said before, not gonna happen.”
Sean softly chuckled, picking up his toolbox.
“Well until you get some actual money, neither is that roof getting fixed.” He pushed beside her, walking out the front door. He slammed it shut, causing her eyes to squeeze shut.
“God, he’s such an asshole.”
Valarie huffed, walking to the kitchen. She sat on top of the countertop thinking to herself. I need to learn how to the play damn guitar, so I can finally get some cash. I can’t teach myself though, Jesus, who else knows how to play guitar.
Only one name crossed her mind, causing a shiver to travel down her spine. No, absolutely not, don’t even think that Valarie. There’s no way you’re going to ask Eddie Munson to teach you how to play guitar. He’s probably still fighting for his life in highschool. God but he’s the only person I know who could actually help me, if he still doesn’t hold a grudge from 5th grade.
Valarie ran to her bedroom, looking under her bed from her stack of yearbooks. She grabbed one from 1984, the year she graduated, and one of the many Eddie failed. She flipped to the back page of signatures and goodbyes. Names and phone numbers of former classmates filled with colorful markers crossed her eyes. Her hand scanned the paper, looking for Eddie’s phone number. The illiterate and sloppy handwriting stood out to her as his.
Thanks for a horrible highschool experience, Eddie
“Well at least he was kind enough to sign it.”
Underneath his phone number was listed faintly, almost as if he had wrote it then erased it afterward. Valarie picked up the book, holding it to her chest as she dashed into the kitchen. She sat on top of the counter, picking up the phone off the wall. She read the numbers from her lap, squinting to see. She pressed the numbers into the keys.
She dialed the numbers, her hand began to shake as the ringing began. A scruffy voice sang from the speaker, causing her to place the phone back on the hook.
“God, you dumbass!”
She redialed the numbers, listening for the ringing once again. The same scruffy, and familiar voice spoke.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is Eddie, right?”
“Jesus Christ, you’ve gotta be kidding me, I never thought I’d have to hear your voice again.”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb, I know your voice, Val.”
Valarie began twirling the cord of the phone anxiously, her breathing became heavy in the speaking.
“Eddie, I promise I’d only call you if it was an emergency, and this sorta is.”
Eddie scoffed through the phone, by his tone though she should she it, she knew he was rolling his eyes.
“Eddie, say something, you can’t still be mad at me.”
“You’re the one who hated me, always complaining about everything about me. I’m sorry I didn’t meet little miss perfect’s standards.”
“Eddie, that was in middle school! Get over it, we’re adults now!”
“It wasn’t just middle school, you and your art friends made fun of me until senior year.”
“Which senior year, your first, second, or third?”
Valarie instantly regretted the snarky remark after she said it, letting out a deep sigh.
“What’s the emergency, Boyd.”
Valarie took in a deep breath. Complaining to Eddie Munson about her financial situation was not something she ever thought she’d do.
“I took a job in a band as a lead guitarist, but I have no idea how to play guitar, and I was hoping you could possibly teach me?” she rambled swiftly, hope he couldn’t hear the desperation in her voice.
Eddie laughed abruptly, the sound causing Valarie’s face to turn red. He finally spoke after laughing for a while, catching his breath.
“So you’re telling me, you want me to teach you the one thing you used to make fun of me for, telling me I’d never get anywhere being a burnout guitarist.”
“I only said those things because I was 16! We were both kids, kids say dumb things. I don’t think that way about you anymore Eddie, I promise you.”
Eddie laughed once more, this time she could tell he was getting a kick out of her pain.
“I don’t care what you think about me now sweetheart, it’s not going to happen. How’d you even get my number anyway?”
Valarie paused before responding back.
“… My yearbook.”
“God you are desperate, goodnight, Val.”
“Eddie wait-.”
Her voice was cut off with the slam of Eddie’s phone, hanging up on her mid sentence. Her voice cracked out a hoarsely moan, her face falling into her hands. She began crying deeply, as the old emotions she had for him rose again. They had never fully dissipated from her heart, but recovered once she heard his voice again.
“God, I still love him.”