[Richie cackles.] There's a movie exactly like this somewhere, isn't there? Probably twelve of them. Amnesia's a Hollywood darling, easy sales on tickets and hankies.
[The kid takes a baby stumble, then he's dripping off Richie's shoulder. Pearly whites have never been on better display outside of Crest ads. He looks to him, momentarily surprised.
It's the shoes. They've delighted him probably, an unexpected gift from a probable stranger. Even if some warning signal flashes at the invite, a touch breathier than the sweet nothings old Prior gave him. Is it wrong to be wistful for a lamentation about the state of the bathroom, or a plea to put on Donna Summer in lieu of The Doors?
Then someone else moves through the shop and he's off him quick as a whip, boxing his enthusiasm back up and averting eyes. Richie, who only catches these differences by afterthought, marks the way his feet shift wider apart and he casts a slouch over his shoulders.
More like the rest of the teenagers. Less like himself.
Richie frowns. He claps his back with one hand, a fatherly show of solidarity.]
Relax, nobody's paying mind kiddo. Hang tight a sec and then we'll figure out where your pad is. [He scoops up the discarded shoes and moves to the counter, completing the transaction with only a mild burn about his ears.]
no subject
[The kid takes a baby stumble, then he's dripping off Richie's shoulder. Pearly whites have never been on better display outside of Crest ads. He looks to him, momentarily surprised.
It's the shoes. They've delighted him probably, an unexpected gift from a probable stranger. Even if some warning signal flashes at the invite, a touch breathier than the sweet nothings old Prior gave him. Is it wrong to be wistful for a lamentation about the state of the bathroom, or a plea to put on Donna Summer in lieu of The Doors?
Then someone else moves through the shop and he's off him quick as a whip, boxing his enthusiasm back up and averting eyes. Richie, who only catches these differences by afterthought, marks the way his feet shift wider apart and he casts a slouch over his shoulders.
More like the rest of the teenagers. Less like himself.
Richie frowns. He claps his back with one hand, a fatherly show of solidarity.]
Relax, nobody's paying mind kiddo. Hang tight a sec and then we'll figure out where your pad is. [He scoops up the discarded shoes and moves to the counter, completing the transaction with only a mild burn about his ears.]