a/n- i've noticed an immense about of hate around y/n's stutter during this and the last chapter. this stutter is part of the story, and if it bothers you, ignore it or go read something else. ur 'jokes' arent funny to people who actually have a stutter in real life.

***

"So you're just- going?"

Mackenzie stood watching you, a concerned, yet confused look etched upon her soft features as she stood at the doorway to your room. You bustled around with shaky hands and legs, threatening to give out any moment as you shoved the necessary items into your bag, preparing your trip back to the one place you didn't even know existed until half an hour ago- yet, one of the most key fractures in your childhood. Apparently. Mike had said he'd explain everything when you arrived. 

After the phone call, you'd quickly cleaned up your elbows you'd used to catch the fall (which were now both covered in bandages where glass had once cut skin) and promised to pay for the door's repair when you got back.

And here you were, in the house you'd once shared with your scum of a husband, packing a bag to race to the restaurant Mike had requested you meet him at along with a collection of your past friends, which you simply struggled to remember. You'd figured out some of their names- of course, Bill, the name that sent a surge of emotions coursing through your veins whenever you'd say it out loud. You also remembered an Eddie, and a Beverly.

You would almost feel excited if it wasn't for the creeping feeling of dread on your back, waiting to pounce on you and strangle you dead.

"Y-yes, Kenzie, there's a-an, um-" you struggled with your words, watching as she waited patiently for you to continue. Something she was used to doing. "Like, a little get-together, I don't u-understand."

"With your old friends?"

"O-old friends? Oh, y-yeah."

Mackenzie helped you carry your bags out to your (ex) husband's navy Ford Explorer. She seemed concerned at first, but watching as you threw the bags into your boot, she shook them down. But you studied her face and she finally spoke up.

"(Y/n), I know how much you need to go, but it's like midnight. Do you really think you should be driving, especially in the position you're in?"

"I'm f-f-fine, Kenzie. I-I promise I'll b-be back soon."

And just like that, you were on the road. You felt incredibly guilty for your confused best friend, since a string of events she would have no idea about had just taken place. You'd showed up on her doorstep, bawling about your cheating husband. Then, you'd broken her glass door. Then, she'd driven you back to your house after you'd received a mysterious phone call, and now you'd left her and driven off in a hurry to a restaurant five hours away. If you wanted to get to the restaurant in time, you had to leave now.

You drove with your windows down, trying to meditate. There was no time for tears right now, so you made an effort to clear your mind and take deep breaths in, something your therapist had taught you, and the feat worked- your breathing slowed until you felt empty, almost.

You found yourself trying to imagine the faces of your past friends. You were sure you'd recognize them once you saw them... you had too, right? Unless this was all just a big trap to lure you to a restaurant you'd only ever been too twice in your 39 years of life.

No. This wasn't the time to work yourself up about shit.

But why didn't you remember them? If you were such good friends, why didn't you remember being with them as a little girl?

It was ridiculous.

Hours passed by, yet you stayed bolted upright in your chair. Your nerves were bouncing across your skin like a wildfire, and you almost felt excitement at the thought of a big friend group you'd once known. As a child, you'd always been the odd one out- constantly alone, sitting at the back of the room- mostly, your stutter made you the center of attention, and you hated that. Kids could be mean.

Time flowed by as your head became muddled with thoughts, and soon enough you were pulling into a nearby carpark of a restaurant called "Jade of the Orient".

You were blinded by their bright florescent lights as you stepped from the car, suddenly becoming very aware of the fact you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. You probably should have changed.

"There's no fucking way!"

A man's voice came from behind you, and you whipped around. Your eyes fell upon a man who had just gotten out of a taxi across from you, with short brown hair and a bright smile that your mind involuntarily matched to a childhood buddy you had barely remembered. He was looking at you in disbelief.

"E-e-eddie?" Your soft voice almost startled him, and suddenly he was practically running and trapping you in a tight hug.

"O-oh, Eddie i-it's great to- h-hi."

He wrapped you in a huge hug that cut off your breath. "(Y/n), oh my god! You look... great."

Everytime you looked into his eyes, you saw fractions of memories you couldn't explain, even though you wanted to. It made you feel awkward, and you averted your eyes to the ground as Eddie let you go.

"So.. you got Mike's call, too?" He asked you as you both made your way towards into the restaurant.

"Y-yes, just a few hours ago."

"You must have been the last one. I got called about- 2 days ago? I've been driving myself crazy ever since." He cringed, and you wondered what exactly he meant.

As you both entered the warm atmosphere of the restaurant, you'd both alerted a nice employee who somehow knew of your names already. You suspected this was Mike's doing. Eddie began mumbling incoherent warnings to the employee about his allergies, which almost made you chuckle at the irony. Oh yes, you remembered him. Nothing had changed.

You'd expected to feel your nerves get worse as you approached the blocked off room where your table was, with bamboo lining the walls as a way to block-out outdoor chatter. But they didn't. In fact, you began feeling excitement bubble in your stomach at the thought of being reunited with friends you didn't exactly remember having.

Yet, when you turned the corner and laid eyes on two men standing by the fish tank, you couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face.

And the butterflies that settled in your stomach? It was undeniably Bill's fault, by the way his eyes settled on you. As cheesy as it sounds, time realistically stopped for a few seconds.

Eddie quickly ruined the moment. "Holy shit."

"Oh, my god. You guys look- this is great," Mike broke out into a laugh as he launched himself at the two of you, wrapping you both in a hug. Bill hung behind, slowly making his way towards the three of you.

"Eddie, (Y/n), I can't believe it!" Mike sighed happily, and you smiled at him.

"H-hey, M-mike," you stuttered. You weren't sure if the feat was a result of your permanent condition, or the man that seemed to be smiling and looking you up and down. Perhaps a bit of both. But both seemed to be surprised when your unusually soft voice spoke up.

"You're s-stuttering," Bill said, his own voice mirroring yours. You both just stared at each other as Eddie began laughing.

"This is fucking crazy, I- I remember. You stuttered. Bad."

"Hey, shut up. I got over that!" Bill began chuckling along with Mike. The three of you practically jumped when a gong was rang behind you. A familiar voice called out as you turned, resting your eyes on a trio that immediately made you smile. Richie, Bev... and a man you couldn't help but not recognise.

"Wow, look at these guys!" Eddie exclaimed, a grin gracing his face as you took in the collection of adults.

They were... grown up. Baby fat and innocent eyes faded away.

Richie looked at the three of you, mouthing "Ben", and motioned to the attractive boy standing next to Bev. You let out a small laugh in disbelief, Bill's head turning to you as you made the sound.

---

You felt the hot liquid burn down your throat as you took your third shot of the night. For the first time in your life, you thanked yourself you weren't a light drinker, as you weren't even the tiniest bit tipsy. But maybe it was just the unidentifiable expensive liquid that you kept drinking. Who knows.

"So, wait, Eddie, you got married?" Richie practically slurred from across the table in the man's direction.

"Yeah, why's that so funny, dick-wad?" Eddie pursed his lips, watching as Richie chuckled, eyes hazed.

"What? To, like, a woman?"

You put your shot glass down on the table and had to stop the smile spreading across your face.

"Fuck you, bro," Eddie raised his chopsticks defensively, rolling his eyes as Richie let out a "Fuck you!" back.

"All right. So what about you, Trashmouth? You married?" Bill spoke up from beside you, almost making you jump.

"There's no way Richie's married!" Bev laughed from the other side of you, and continuous laughter echoed around the table.

"No, I got married," Richie spoke defensively. You rolled your eyes in amusement.

"R-richie, I d-d-don't believe it," you laughed, and Bill joined in, with a "when?"

"Did you not hear this?" Richie turned to Eddie, disbelief on his features. Eddie shook his head.

"No?"

"You didn't know I got married?"

"No."

"Yeah, no, me and your mother are happily married-"

Bill practically spit out his drink beside you, and the table erupted in laughter at the continuous happy memories you felt. Richie had been all about teasing Eddie, and thank god, you remembered that. You almost felt at whole here, with these people you weren't entirely sure how you'd forgotten.

"He totally fell for it," Bill laughed over the other laughter around the table, and you tangled a hand through your hair.

"Fuck you," Eddie commented simply, seemingly annoyed, yet there was an undertone of amusement shining through.

"She's very sweet. Sometimes, she'll put her arm around me, and she'll go-" Richie began imitating Jabba the Hutt speaking alien language from a show you couldn't bare to try to remember. The table erupted in laughter again.

"I get it. My mom was a great, big, fat person," Eddie exclaimed in exasperation. Bev seemed shocked as she shushed him, Eddie still ranting on about his mother and own disappointment.

Dinner chatter continued on, everyone ranting on about their lives and stuff that you were content with sitting back and listening to. Ben had not only lost weight, but he was in charge of a construction company, something you hadn't been surprised about. For some reason.

But eventually the chatter turned on you, and you mentally lagged when they began asking about you and your life.

"Come on, (Y/n), what've you been doing?" Mike pushed, and you shrugged, taking a sip of your champagne.

"You and Ben are like- the friendship duo you see on tv, that get really hot randomly," Richie commented, and the people around you laughed.

"We h-haven't spoken in-what- 30 years? I-I had loads of time to get m-my shit together," you giggled, and he shrugged, edging you on to talk about yourself.

"Well, I was going to become a marine biologist, because why not? But then I was offered a modelling job," you took your time talking, trying to prolong your stutter as much as you could, and it worked. The people around you all made sounds of amazement as you continued. "And- I took it. A-and that's what I've been living off o-of."

"That's- that's great. Our baby (Y/n), a Hollywood model!" Ben gushed, motioning to you extravagantly. You flushed, rolling your eyes at the man.

"Now let's get to the real tea. Are you still a (L/n), or is there a man- or woman- in your life?" Richie commented, eyebrows wiggling in a way that made you laugh. But at the same time, you were inwardly seized with panic. Do you tell them your pity story about your pig of an ex? Or not? You weren't particularly in the mood to be embarrassed, especially with the beautiful man beside you staring into your soul. So all you did was shrug.

"I-I had one. N-not a-a-anymore."

"Come on, no kids? Anything? With a body like yours, I'm surprised," Richie commented, and you flushed again, looking down.

"Leave her alone. You're embarrassing her." Beverly's motherly authority broke through the air, and you sent her a thankful look, which she reciprocated with a smile. You tried to change the subject to the first thought that occurred in your mind, staring at the empty seat opposite you.

"A-anyways, when will St-Stan be here?"

Suddenly, an unwelcome silence settled in the air. Your shoulders suddenly felt heavy in a way they shouldn't of.

"Stan," Eddie slumped in his seat.

"Stan- Stan Uris. Stan Urine. Stanley Urine- no, no, he's a fucking pussy. He's not going to show," Richie shrugged.

"Why would Stanley save you anyway? Wasn't I the one who basically performed surgery on you after Bower's beat you up? Holy shit, that's right!" Eddie said as if he was remembering the words in his mind as he spoke. He smiled seemingly triumphantly when he completed the sentence.

You didn't join in with the laughter that erupted, as you were too busy staring at the empty seat that should have occupied Stanley Uris. The missing laughter, the missing smiles, they were all too much suddenly.

You felt faint, and you couldn't stop the bad feeling that hovered in your stomach for the next few hours of chatter amongst your friends. You didn't even know why.

---