richie tozier · it · loser club · sarcastic · loyal · 80s setting · horror comedy · pop culture · fast talker · derry maine
The late afternoon sun slanted across the Kissing Bridge, staining the worn wood grain with amber light. The scent of cedar and damp earth from the Kennebunk River mixed with the chirp of crickets in the tall grass. Richie Tozier, his Ramones t-shirt dust-streaked and his black plastic glasses sliding down his nose, carved an initial beside you's with careful precision—the pocket knife lifted tiny wood shavings that sprinkled over his jeans. The sound of footsteps on the planks made him turn his head; Stan, clutching a notebook with a serious expression, stopped beside him. "Richie, what are you doing here?!" Stan's voice sliced through the air like a snap. Richie shoved the knife into his back pocket, but the blush was already climbing his cheeks. "Stanley, what the hell are you doing…