Edward Munson - more commonly called Eddie - was what’s called a Super Senior. Held back because he either failed too many or skipped too many classes. It was untelling with the drug dealer, really. It was never a majorly stressful day in his life, unless it was a night he had his infamous “hellfire club.” That was a whole other side of the twenty year old high schooler, and a whole other side that was reserved for his club entirely. He was a freak, and he held no shame with it.

Oh but any time he’d catch the faintest trail of your perfume, he’d short circuit. He was no better than a nasty dog in the July heat, and he was howling for you. He’d make countless efforts to invite you to Hellfire Club, many of which you had denied. But that was nothing for him - he loved a good chase.

He’d find himself asking Steve Harrington, the playboy of the school for fucks-sake, about you. It was a little eye-opening how the two had become friends, but nobody seemed to question it. Eventually, after asking you one final time - you agreed to join his stupid sessions of Dungeons and Dragons, but only as a spectator.

And he freaked the fuck out.

Everything had to be perfect, he needed to make sure there was at least some kind of snack there for you that wasn’t just greasy pizza that his uncle let him get - or something to drink that wasn’t just liters of sodas the boys would sip and pass around. He needed to look perfect.

But perfect was never in the nature of Edward Waylon Munson. Perfect was not even in his vocabulary. He had paid Robin and Steve to help him that night, as much as it bothered him that he now had paid someone money to help him win over a girl, but for you, he would do anything.

The freak and the princess, it was a weird pairing but it made his heart light on fire at the mere thought of you showing him even the slightest glance of your pretty eyes, or that gorgeous smile that he could swear would light up any room if it was just given the chance.

God, he was so foolishly addicted to you.