CRYBABY ♤ IT // richie tozier *2020 EDIT*

[PROLOGUE] THE BEGINNING OF THE END

Her acrylic nail tapped eagerly on the dressing room table as the announcer reminded her crew that she was going on stage in under three minutes.
Sighing while grabbing the almost empty wine glass, Lizzy peered into the red liquid before swirling the glass and drinking it in one final gulp. The bitter taste was enough to get her ready for action, checking her hair in the mirror one last time and applying the red lipstick that had become a staple part of her look.

Lizzy had seemed to gain a risqué reputation over the years for her lyrics and image. She liked to appear like a twisted version of the all-American woman but instead of singing about staying in a kitchen, she'd sing about biker gangs and cheap liquor. Her fans (who mostly comprised of depressed teenage girls with daddy issues) were loyal, but she knew that if she ever dropped off the map they wouldn't really care. It'd be like just another thing her 'character' would do. Tonight she was performing on some late show, she wasn't sure what one - they all seemed the same with varying middle aged white male comedians hosting them. She stayed away from the mainstream though, only keeping up with shows through Netflix and movies through random visits to her local cineplex.
Her life as a rockstar was complicated and cold, but when she was home it was isolated and warm. Lizzy preferred New York to LA any day.

Betty, her tiny Asian manager was soon rushing her out to the stage armed with a clipboard. She was a very panicky woman that suffered from OCD (which Lizzy somewhat appreciated as it contrasted from her laidback, messy nature).
The performance went smoothly, usually she didn't do live TV performances due to her last one on SNL being received negatively. As soon as the darkness engulfed her face and the audience began their applause, she let out a slight laugh of relief. Betty grinned and did a thumbs up to indicate her success. Lizzy liked making Betty proud, she had let her down enough.

The audio guy double checked her mic and ensured everything was running smoothly, she avoided eye contact with him while peering nervously at the host of the show. They'd given her a sheet of the questions he was going to ask and still she couldn't help but play with the hem of her dress. As soon as they indicated the audio check was over, Lizzy plastered a fake smile on her face and went over to meet the mediocre host of the show. Jimmy Kimmel? She didn't care for his name, she didn't find him particularly funny. Greeting him with a hug and kiss on the cheek, Lizzy took her seat and sipped from the water they'd placed beside it.

"Well hello, can I just say it's an honour to meet you Lizzy - I'm a big fan." He started with a smile attempting to butter her up. Her smile softened, "Thanks for inviting me."

"So Miss Dwyer, how are you?" Kimmel started, pretending to care. Lizzy could tell it wasn't out of malice though, it was the hosts job to make the guest feel comfortable. For this question she actually had to think. How was she really? Nothing particularly special was occurring in her life at the moment and honestly, her depression was at an all time low. This life was empty.

Before she could answer he spoke again. "Judging from all your kooky lyrics, I'd guess that you're close to death!" He tried cracking a joke to make the audience laugh but Lizzy could tell they were partially cringing, as was she with a clenched fist.
Faking a laugh, she continued. "Maybe, you just gotta listen to the music I guess." That was a lie, for her music she hid behind a character. She sang about great romance and danger, all of which she'd only encountered in dreams.
"In your songs you discuss about loss. Loss of love, loss of life but was struck me as the most interesting were the songs about the loss of your sister. What was that like?" Still puzzled by his question, she scrunched her face.
"I lost her when I was very young. She went missing, found the body but it was far too late. It traumatised me deeply though, so much that I basically blocked out much of my adolescent life." She replied, getting flashbacks of a corpse dressed in a pink dress.
Realising he'd struck a cord, Kimmel decided to reel it in again. "Well your new album was amazing, what was it like writing it?"
The questions continued (including a very odd one about her love life and how she hadn't settled down at age 40) until Jimmy announced that time was up and thanked her once again for coming. Shaking her hand, he pointed in the direction she needed to go. Lizzy honestly couldn't wait to get out of there.

Her crew was hosting an after party for her album release at her house and the thought of having an excuse to get black out drunk comforted Lizzy.
"Why didn't we stick to that other guy's show? Kimmel was insufferable as ever." She rubbed her temples whilst complaining to Arianne, her publicist.
"Because hun, you said you got bad vibes from 'Late Night with Richie Tozier'." Lizzy's head rose at the slightest mention of his name. She'd gone to high school with him and was worried that he might bring up the time they hooked up. The details were really foggy and she barely knew the guy which made the whole situation even more awkward. Lizzy was sure someone had either spiked the punch that night or that it was a fever dream brought on by the knowing that it was on the same night as the accident of Greta Keene-Bowie. Either way, the whole event was hazy and weird and she really didn't need someone from her past coming back. Especially when even the mention of his name made her feel as if something was wrong.
Wrong as in, she was missing an entire chunk of her memory. Her many therapists had informed her that forgetting things was normal, especially when she'd faced trauma at such a young age. But Lizzy didn't take this for an answer. She felt like something had purposefully put a block on her memory. It sounded stupid but how else could Lizzy explain not remembering most of her childhood and teenage years.
"Oh yeah, I remember now."

Speaking of Richie Tozier, he'd become the nation's favourite talk show host. His comedic timing was impeccable when combined with his wacky voices and impressions. He got his big break on Saturday Night Live during the Poehler years and shone through his brilliant characters and witty humour. His departure from the show was met with great sadness from fans. Luckily for Lizzy, her path never crossed his when she was on the show. He'd left a few years prior to her first hosting job which she continued to do on two separate occasions, ensuring that she also didn't perform as the musical guest.

Richie also had a slew of well received comedic films that had been released over the years which he'd either wrote or starred in. Lizzy didn't make an effort to watch any of them. In fact she really tried to distance herself from her past from someone as seemingly as insignificant as fellow student Tozier to someone as close to her as the girl that raised her: Deborah Dwyer.

Thinking about her older sister hurt. To the extent of her knowledge, the woman was still living in Derry, Maine. She hadn't visited that wretched town since she left for college. To her, it was like a disease and she was glad she got away from it.

Her train of thought was interrupted by loud music and the sight of people she knew. Liz had no intention whatsoever of sitting down and talking to these people but she still made an effort to smile at them as she strode through the room, desperate to find a quiet spot to think. Times like this, she really did wish she was back at her childhood home. Lizzy could barely even remember the address, but she knew it was on Broadway Road. Broadway Street? Definitely something to do with Broadway.
In fact times like this, Lizzy could really use a cigarette. She'd stopped being a frequent smoker in her teen years but still had one from time to time, usually at photoshoots causing her fans to adopt the habit to her onstage persona.
But she didn't have one on her and couldn't be bothered to ask and so she just leaned against the balcony barrier, letting the LA cool summer air breeze past her face. It was always relaxing, observing the chaos from the outside.

Little did she know - this relaxation period would end as her home phone started to ring and when answered by Arianne, a deep male's voice requested her presence and stated that it was urgent.