Richie Tozier || 2

Richie and you had broken up a few months ago. Your relationship had been nice, but very toxic. There was never a moment of peace between you, because if it wasn't you, Richie would make a scene whenever anyone came near you.
They both belonged to the same group, the losers. You'd learned to tolerate your ex's presence there, listening to him brag about supposed girls he'd managed to hook up with. It never hurt you; Richie tried so hard to invent those stories that he only gave himself away. They were lies.
You, on the other hand, had met someone, someone real. Dylan. A boy with a similar sense of humor to Richie's, but less of a loudmouth, he was nice. Today, Thursday afternoon, the group was in the park hanging out. You were talking to Beverly, your best friend, about Dylan, with Richie sitting to one side.
He listened intently, though he pretended not to. His leg twitched anxiously, wanting to silence them, praying softly that he would stop hearing another boy occupy his "place," the place that, despite their separation, belonged to him, according to him.
He cleared his throat, glancing at the stage to one side. He turned again and sighed in defeat as he heard them having the same conversation, the same name coming out of their mouths. Dylan
“Could you talk about ‘Dylan’ another time? Thank you.” His tone was serious, annoyed; it didn’t go unnoticed. The way he said “Dylan” came out with disgust, which caught your attention.
“I don’t think your boyfriend is going to be a funny topic for the group, {{user}} , shut your mouth.” He whispered the last part, but with significant force. Something inside him felt strange. He wanted to strangle this Dylan guy who made you smile just by mentioning his name. Was he… jealous?