Stranger Things - Imagines

Eddie Munson X Reader - Superheroes

A/N - This chapter was sort of inspired by the song Superheroes by The Script. Reader and Eddie are both famous singer/songwriter types in their mid-twenties. I hope you all enjoy it.

You look totally resigned to your fate as you lounged in your seat, a glass of champagne that properly cost more than the apartment you'd grown up in clutched delicately in your hand. You hated these stupid award ceremonies more than any other part of your job. Making music was incredible. Performing live was fun. But sitting in a big old auditorium whilst mediocre rich people got celebrated for doing something that they were already paid way too much money for was tiresome at best; practically torture at worst.

Sitting up a little straighter, you finally noticed the other people sitting at your table. Some pretty little pop star who had only just released her debut single, who wanted nothing more than to escape from your little collection of people and meet some of the more exciting stars of the night. An old country singer that you were almost certain hadn't released any music since before you were born, who seemed either too drunk or too stoned to even know where he was. And then, there was the band. Relative newcomers in the industry, but from what you had heard, they were getting popular in the rock scene pretty quickly. It was rare that guys like that came to shows like this. Most of them thought they were too cool for it, thought it would damage the bad boy image for them to be seen mingling with people who were more Pop Idol than Rock Star. 

You placed your now empty glass down as softly as you could manage, your eyes flickering over at the guy sitting nearest to you for just a second until he glanced up and smiled at you. And then his eyes had widened and his mouth had dropped open as if he was shocked to see you. Clearly, he'd not given the table the same intense once-over that you had. 

"You're Y/N Y/L/N," he uttered, grinning from ear to ear as you simply looked at him. 

"Yep-"

"Didn't know you were even coming to this," he hummed, clearly more interested in his conversation with you than you were in him. "Thought you were on tour."

You shrugged, smiling at the waiter who had come to top up your drink, humming out a soft thank you to him. "My management insisted," you finally answered, taking a tentative sip from the fresh glass. "Didn't seem worth the argument to get out of it."

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, holding his hand out in your direction. "Well, I'm glad you came. I'm Eddie. These guys are Gareth and Jeff," he told you, his hand dropping back to his lap when you didn't return the handshake. 

"I know," you murmured. "Corroded Coffin, right?" 

"Right," he agreed softly, smiling at the sound of his band name falling from your tongue. "Shit, my Uncle Wayne is never going to believe me when I tell him I met you," he pressed on, letting out a soft chuckle. "I swear, I'd never heard that guy listen to anything but country music that came out before I was even born," he hummed, shifting forward slightly. "He was that guy's perfect target audience," he added, nodding towards the old country singer now slouched in his chair, fast asleep. "But when you brought out your first album, it was all he listened to for like a month. He has every record you've ever put out. Every album. Every single. The guy loves you."

A soft chuckle fell from your lips, and finally, you were properly looking at Eddie. He was cute, really. A total rockstar look, but seemingly a pretty sweet personality hidden underneath. "I'll add Uncle Wayne to my top fans list," you teased, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. 

"He thinks you're the best thing to come out of the music industry since Bob Dylan," he told you. "He's going to go mad when I tell him that I met you and told you about him," he chuckled. "He'll be all 'you didn't bother that nice young lady with little old me, did ya, boy?'," he pressed on, drawing a snort out of you at his impression of a man you had never even met before. 

"Nice young lady?" you hummed. "Clearly he doesn't read all those gossip magazines-"

Eddie shrugged, his smile faltering slightly. "Nah, he doesn't bother with all that nonsense. Knows all too well how rumours can spread," he told you. "He thinks they give you a tough ride because of where you grew up," he added. "Thinks they only ever really like the kids who grew up in LA and New York. Not people like us."

"Us?"

A soft scoff slipped out of Eddie. "You didn't think I was one of these asshole rich kids, right?" When you didn't answer, Eddie chuckled slightly. "Uncle Wayne raised me in a shitty old trailer in Hawkins, Indiana," he hummed. "He worked stupid hours just to keep food on the table, you know?"

"Yeah, my mom was the same. One-bed apartment and two jobs just to keep the heating on," you murmured, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips. "Does he come out often?"

He hesitated for a moment. "No, I see him from time to time, but he's never come to California," he told you. "I keep telling him I can pay for the flights now, that he can come out here and visit, but he hates the idea of me wasting money on him. I tried explaining that it isn't a waste if I get to see him, but-"

"But they're all stubborn as bulls, aren't they?" you finished for him, letting out a soft snort of laughter. "Well, how close is he to Indianapolis?" 

Eddie's brow furrowed slightly, watching you with pure confusion on his face. "About an hour in the car-"

"I've got a show there in a couple of weeks," you pressed on, interrupting. "I'd love it if you guys would come. I'll get you on the V.I.P. list and everything; have him come backstage."

"Are you joking?" he murmured, looking so lost that it drew a soft snort of laughter out of you. 

You shook your head. "I'd like to meet my biggest fan."

"He'd love that. You sure?"

"Sure as sure can be," you told him, a bright smile pulling at your lips. "People like us have to stick together out here or we get totally steamrolled by the people that grew up easy," you murmured. "And you seem like you'd be worth knowing," you added, watching him smile at you. 

Eddie tugged a pen out of his pocket, holding it out towards you. "Give me your number?" 

You bit into your bottom lip, taking the outstretched pen from him and shaking out the napkin that was sitting on the table in front of you. "Tell Uncle Wayne that I'm looking forward to meeting him," you hummed, scrawling your number out on the paper. "And call me tomorrow for the details, okay?"

"I promise," he murmured, taking the napkin back and tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket, patting it lightly to make sure it was safe and sound. 

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