[ the performance is honestly something, a weird display that eddie wouldn't be drawn to any other time in his life but cannot seem to tear his eyes away from as it gets going. he swallows back a wave of panic as it repeats, the scenes familiar and yet washing over him as if anew all over again.

he takes a shaky breath after the second draws to a close, feels dread settle low in his stomach and unease eat away at his insides. he doesn't fucking know what's wrong with him, but something's felt off even before he woke up to sweltering heat on this island.

something before vecna, before the upside down and hiding in a fucking boat house after watching the prom queen die on his ceiling. it's stronger here, now, that sense of dread and unease in his own skin and he's definitely holding in sobs, trembling with it even before he glances to the side robin is sitting at and catches her looking at him. she's crying too, eyes shimmering, and that shit is somehow goddamn worse.

eddie's never been able to hold it in, was always spilling out in all sorts of ugly shapes until he turned those into a facade of confidence and rants on cafeteria lunch tables; remade into something the people of hawkins look down on because he's different but almost fear too. eddie has his arms wrapped around himself, trying to hold it in. ] I-- [ 'Are you okay?' he wants to asks but the words don't make it past his throat. ] I think I'm fucking drowning, Buckley. Have you ever felt like something tore you apart and put you together all wrong?