You usually have like five bags all organized alphabetically. I uh- just want to make sure you'll be okay with what's on hand. I'd hate to have to subject you to my clothes.

[It doesn't take long for Richie to get home and it's not extravagant. A three-bedroom place, two bathrooms. The guest room was made up, he didn't get that many guests. Pining for your best friend for more than a decade didn't lend itself to a very active social life.]

Okay. We're good to go. [Richie leans forward and grabs Eddie's bag for him. No way was he gonna let him pull the weight alone. The style is still his, the decorations around the house are musical legends, comedy legends. A distinct sort of grunginess that only Richie could make charming. Especially without a set aesthetic. Just bright colors and earthy tones.

The lights are on, the fan still moving. Richie's laptop is still open over the bar in the center of the living room off the kitchen with papers all around it. Making it clear he'd literally taken off to meet him.]

This is gonna sound weird coming from me, but- can I ask what happened, between you and Myra?

[The implication was clear, that if Eddie didn't want to answer he didn't have to.]