A Rockstars Motto (the brain on love) | Steddie

Emotional Whiplash

Steve:
Eddie's okay.
You can call him at the hospital, room number 284

He got a slew of messages afterward but he silenced his phone and pulled the blankets over his head so he didn't have to look at anything but inky darkness.

The look on Robin's face tells him that he looks about as terrible as he feels. His eyes are dry and swollen and probably red. He hasn't eaten much in the past 72 hours so his cheeks are most likely pale.

"Steve," Robin stepped forward but Steve stepped back, shaking his head as a sob got choked off in his throat. She stilled for a second as tears rolled down his cheeks, stinging his dry eyes. Robin's face twisted with sympathy at the whimper that broke free despite his effort to suppress it. "Oh no," she whispered, stepping forward again and wrapping her arms around him despite his weak protest. He gripped the back of her sweater as he into her shoulder, broken cries and hiccuping gasps that he couldn't stop if he tried.

"He cheated on me," Steve whispered once his sobs died down. Robin tensed under him. They had sunk to the floor, Robins back against the door with Steve's head in his lap and his body curled up as tightly as possible. Her hand froze in his hair, he heard her sigh before her hand continued to slide gently through. "He got high, cheated on me, got high again so he didn't have to feel guilty, cheated on me again, and did it over and over again for three months. Three months, Rob, how-" he couldn't continue. He refused to cry again, not even sure if he physically could.

"Fuck, Steve, what can I do?" She asked.

"I'd ask you to talk to the kids for me but that's just selfish. Can I stay with you for a bit? Until I find a new apartment?" He sat up slowly, sniffling as he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Of course, however long you need." She reached over and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together with a sympathetic downward draw of her eyebrows. Steve couldn't stand to look at it, so he leaned his head onto her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Four years, Rob. Four years and it's all gone," he whispered, his chest squeezing. "Now I'm alone in this apartment that's supposed to be ours, by myself and I don't know what to do. Every time I close my eyes I see him with someone else, I see him touching some faceless stranger and it makes me want to vomit. And even then, I still fucking miss him. I'm caught in this endless loop of hating him and missing him."

"You loved him and he hurt you, I think some emotional whiplash is natural. Come on," Robin gently pushed his head up so she could stand. She reached a hand out for him and leaned down to grab his when he hesitated. "You had three days to wallow in your pain, go take a shower, get dressed, and we will be going down to the high school to help set up for the dance like the responsible chaperones we promised we would be." She pulled him up and he groaned, loud and drawn out.

"I totally forgot about that," he grumbled.

"Hence why I came here looking for you," she tugged him toward the bathroom. "Go on. We'll get some coffee on the way, and maybe a bagel, you look a dress size smaller." She shoved him into the bathroom, sending him a wink and a smile before closing the door.

Steve relinquished himself to a warm shower. It wasn't the first shower he's had since getting home, it wasn't even the fifth. He'd crawl in when his tears threaten to drown him or his heart started to beat too much. He'd turn the water scalding hot or bitter cold and lay on the floor of the tub until his brain went fuzzy with the sound of the water.

He sets the water in the middle this time. Warm enough that he doesn't shiver and cool enough that it doesn't burn. He washes his hair this time, scrubbing at his scalp and running a little product through it. He reaches for his body wash when his hair is properly clean, but his hand freezes when he sees Eddie's body wash sitting next to his. He can smell it without even opening it. He can smell the apple on his skin under the cologne he always uses. He doesn't even know what brand or scent the cologne is, but he knows he'd be able to pick it out amongst a thousand other bottles.

He refused to let himself open it. He knows his own limits and he refused to torture himself with Robin right outside the door. He grabbed his own body wash and scrubbed himself down before fleeing the shower, closing the curtain on Eddie's body wash. He wrapped a towel around his waist so he could walk to his room and get dressed. Half of the closet was empty, and he's not sure if that hurts worse than if it were still full, still overflowing with band tees and denim and leather.

Robin links their elbows when he declares himself ready and she leads him out to her car without the sympathy eyebrows.

The high school is scattered with teens and various adults helping set up decorations or props. It's fairytale themed, which Steve promptly rolls his eyes at. Robin tugs him over to a table and sits him down next to a helium tank and a god-awful amount of balloons.

"The kids aren't here?" He asked, snapping a green balloon between his fingers.

"No, Max and El went accessory hunting and Lucas ordered the wrong size for his tux so the boys are helping him find a new one," she said with a reassuring nod. He nodded along with her, focusing all of his attention on the balloons. 

He spends five minutes sitting there blowing helium into the green balloons, half listening to Robin's account of her date with Vickie. Then the band walks in and starts setting up on the stage. That in itself didn't catch Steve's attention, what did catch his attention was when they started to rehearse.  It wouldn't be a problem for him to listen to if the lead guitarist wasn't out of tune. He grits his teeth and tries to focus on Robin's story about their obviously homophobic waiter.

"I mean, she was giving the stink eye right when we walked in and I refuse to be bullied about who I choose to date, you know? Fuck that small town heteronormative ideology. I'm almost 23 years old, If I want to take my girlfriend out to a restaurant for a nice date night, then that's what I'm going to do." Steve hummed his agreement, but the guy on stage was relentlessly strumming his guitar and it was starting to make his ears ring. He was two seconds away from banging his head on the cafeteria table in hopes that it'll give him a concussion. It's not even that noticeable. To anyone else's ears, it's probably fine, and four years ago Steve wouldn't have even noticed. But he does notice, and the thought of it has his stomach so knotted that he can't focus.

"Oh my god, oh my god, of my god," Steve groaned after another five minutes. He shoved himself up from the table so abruptly that Robin reeled back. The balloon in his hand gets released when he stands, flying a few feet away with the hissing of helium. Robin called his name only once as he spun on his heels and stomped toward the stage. He climbed up and the music faltered as he stalked over, stopping completely when he got to the singer. He's glaring so hard that he's panting.

"You're out of tune," he said through his teeth.

"Excuse me?" The singer grimaced. Steve grabbed the neck of the guitar, struggling only a bit with the guy to get the strap from around his neck. He strums once just to prove his point, then he starts tweaking the keys, the way Eddie taught him, the way he watched Eddie do it a million and one times, the way he's done it himself a million and one times. The next time he strums, it sounds perfect. He hands it back over with a drawn down expression, the weight of his knowledge crushing him.

"You a musician?" The guy asks, blindly taking his guitar back.

"No." Steve bit.

"Oh wait," a look of realization crosses his face, and Steve braces himself for it. "You're Eddie Munson's boyfriend." He stared for a second, feeling wildly out of control before turning on his heels again and jumping off the stage, heavier and broken. Mostly everyone in the gymnasium was staring at him now, was staring at him as he manhandled a stranger's guitar. He found Robin's eyes and she was making that sympathetic face again and he just couldn't take it. He walked out of the side entrance with his head down and his eyes burning, wondering if this is how the rest of his life will go. If this heartache will always live in his chest. If these constant reminders will always make him want to scream. Wondering what people will think about the fact that he knows every part of a guitar, or he knows every lyric to every Judas Priest song, not because he's a fan, but because he's Eddie Munson's boyfriend. Or, was, Eddie Munson's boyfriend. The thought hits him hard enough to make his knees buckle, but he forces himself not to collapse in front of the school. He shuffled his way back to Robin's car, holding back sobs until he was able to collapse in the passenger seat.