Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler stopped at the nearest gas station to refuel his car. Pulling a crumpled bill from his pocket and paying for the gas, he began waiting while the tank was being filled. Feeling an unpleasant ache in his muscles, he decided to stretch his legs a little. Stepping out of the car, he headed toward the station, hoping to grab something to eat. In the end, he bought some kind of stinky hot dog, and he could swear he even saw a small spot of mold on it, but right now he didn’t care. Lately, he didn’t care about anything.
«God, Michael! I understand that you used to be a writer, but that doesn’t mean we can keep forgiving your mistakes forever!»-his boss snapped at him. Mike could only stay silent. He himself didn’t know what was wrong with him lately, as always.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up.
«I’m giving you one week. If you can’t meet the STANDARD OF AN AVERAGE EMPLOYEE again, I’ll have no choice but to fire you»-the man said, sighing heavily, clearly acting as if he were doing him a huge favor.
Mike only nodded and adjusted his glasses, still unable to find anything to say. After the boss waved him off, he finally left that cursed office and rushed to his car. Slamming his fist against the steering wheel, Mike once again sank into the past.
The end of high school. College. The beginning of his writing career-which collapsed in complete failure (even though Mike could swear he really tried!). His novels about his love with El gathered only a miserable number of views, which was why he never managed to publish them in print. He remembered the sleepless nights when he forced words out of himself just to write something. He remembered reading the comments in denial, saying that the main character’s feelings for the heroine were imposed by the author himself, that it didn’t feel like real love at all.
Abandoning writing-the only thing that still connected him to his past self,-Mike tried to get any job he could, since his parents had long stopped giving him money. That was how he ended up in a small company with barely average pay and, in his opinion, a terrible boss.
«Uh, Sir? Are you listening to me?»-the gas station cashier said, waving a hand in front of his face.
«Huh? Yeah-yeah, I hear you»-Mike finally replied, realizing he had once again drifted into his memories.
The cashier snorted when Mike didn’t apologize or show even basic politeness, but of course said nothing.
«Alright, then I’ll repeat myself: that’ll be 11 dollars and 67 cents.»
Mike nodded and, after rummaging through his pockets, finally paid for the hot dog.
Stepping outside, he noticed the gas station employee-the one filling his car-approach him.
«Hello, Sir. I’m sorry, but we’ve run into some technical problems. Could you wait another 10 minutes?»
«Oh, alright. I’ll be inside the station then, let me know when my car is ready»-Mike said with a sigh, unable to ignore how old he sounded just now. He could swear his father used to sound exactly like that, but he quickly shook his head, forcing his attention back to the miserable hot dog.
Returning to the station and sitting on the first chair he saw, Mike Wheeler finally unwrapped his lunch.
The cashier, who clearly didn’t like him but couldn’t really do anything about it, turned on the radio.
A young man’s voice came on, greeting everyone before saying:
«And on such a good note, let’s start today’s broadcast with a new song in our lineup-Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!»
Mike heard the cashier let out a happy cheer; he clearly recognized the song. Mike, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on in the music world-he’d stopped keeping up with it when he was still thirty.
"It's fine, it's cool"
"You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth"
Mike stopped eating and began listening more closely. He didn’t know why, but that person entered his thoughts again (even though he had tried so hard to forget him, even if it had proven almost impossible).
"And guess I'm the fool"
"With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof"
Mike remembered that day. The day Will awakened his powers and saved him from the Demogorgon. Back then, Mike truly saw him as an angel-no, more like a wizard.His wizard. He remembered thinking he was a fool for believing Will had awakened his powers because of him, after learn it had happened thanks to "Robin’s inspiring speech".
Lost in thought, he missed part of the lyrics, but the next lines only hit harder:
"You can kiss a hundred boys in bars"
"Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling"
Mike remembered that awful summer when he was a complete asshole. How his only thought was touching El’s lips. He kissed her again and again, but when she kissed him goodbye before leaving, he finally understood-it wasn’t what he wanted. She wasn’t the one he loved.
After his novel failed and never saw the light of day, Mike sank into depression for a while. On Lucas’s advice, he often went to different bars (oh, Lucas definitely wouldn’t be happy if he knew how often Mike actually went), hoping to drown out his thoughts.
He knew what his heart was telling him. He knew where his soul-his entire being-was drawn. But Mike Wheeler was a coward. He desperately wanted to be a brave paladin, but he never managed to come out of his closet.
"You can say it's just the way you are"
"Make a new excuse, another stupid reason"
Mike remembered how he was the one who broke his friendship with Will. First, during their fight with Vecna, he forbade himself from touching him, telling himself he didn’t want to (when in reality, he wanted it far too much).
After high school, despite receiving an offer from the same New York university Will attended, Mike came up with countless stupid reasons why he had to go to the awful Hawkins college instead.
He stopped answering Will’s letters. At first, Will wrote once a week. Then once a month. And after a year-only on Christmas. (Mike still keeps all of his letters; he never managed to throw them away.)
He still remembered Will’s painfully sad face when they ran into each other in a supermarket. Will wanted to talk to him, but Mike pushed him away and ran back to his car in shame, driving off while Will called after him with tears in his eyes. (That night-and many nights after-Mike woke up seeing that moment again and cried bitterly.)
Mike didn’t even notice when his eyes filled with tears and his lips began to tremble. But the song wasn’t over yet.
"And when you think about me, all of those years ago"
"You're standing face to face with "I told you so""
Mike remembered Will’s coming out. He remembered the words about Tammy. He remembered the way Will looked at him when he said it, and Mike understood. He understood what he meant.
On one hand, Mike felt relief that his feelings were mutual, but that feeling quickly disappeared when he realized it was all… too much. Mike was a coward. Even in the face of Vecna, he doubted he could ever confess-confess his orientation to anyone.
He remembered apologizing to Will and telling him that they weren’t just friends, but best friends. That day, he pretended not to notice how Will’s face twisted in disappointment for just a second, or how his eyes were suspiciously swollen the next day. (That entire day, Mike avoided him, just so he wouldn’t have to see his fake smile.)
"Good luck, babe
"Well, good luck, babe"
"You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling"
Those lines became the final straw, and Mike finally broke down. The cashier stared at him in shock, but Mike didn’t care. He finally allowed himself to think about his past decisions-he knew that if he did, he would regret them, which was why he had shut himself off from everything that could remind him of them.
Mike Wheeler regretted it. Deeply.
«God, what an idiot I am…»-he whispered to himself, quickly wiping away his tears. A smile rested on his lips; he couldn’t help but laugh at himself, because in the end, all of his misery was his own fault.
With tears still streaming down his face, Mike ran out of the gas station, leaving his half-eaten hot dog behind. He knew he urgently needed to talk to Will.
Mike got into his car, and when he was told it hadn’t been fully refueled yet, he said he was in a hurry and drove off anyway.
When he got home, he turned the entire house upside down looking for that one note-the note where he had written down the address of Will’s new place in New York, which Dustin had given him after visiting. Unlike Mike, the Party never stopped keeping in touch with Will and met up with him at least ten times a year (Mike could only boast about a New Year’s card from Will, obviously written by ChatGPT, but he cherished it anyway).
Finally finding that cursed note in the most obvious place, Mike quickly packed a small suitcase, throwing in everything important he could remember.
Already at the airport, moving through the crowd like on the Starcourt escalator, he booked the last seat on the plane. (He couldn’t believe his luck.)
The flight passed quickly. Technology was advancing at the speed of light, and if Mike were still the same nerd he’d been in middle school, he would have paid attention to all of it. AI, robot vacuum cleaners, and countless other things slipped past his awareness-he wouldn’t have known about any of it if not for Max, who considered it her duty to remind Mike of all the wonders of their smart home.
Mike booked a room in the nearest hotel for a few days and, catching a taxi, went to Will’s place.
As he rode, Mike noticed it was already quite dark outside. Checking his watch, he saw it was 8:07. For a moment, he hesitated, but then remembered what kind of person Will was. Right. He definitely wouldn’t mind… (if he was still the same person Mike remembered).
The taxi dropped him off in front of a beautiful cottage that looked like something straight out of celebrity homes of their time. Stepping through the gate into the outer yard, Mike couldn’t help but be even more amazed by the elegance of the place. Everything looked exactly like the houses he and Will had dreamed of living in together as kids. Carefully tended flowers and trees. A neatly trimmed lawn. A small fountain with a cute little dog statue in the center. Soft yellow lights hidden along the path to the house.
Mike could have admired the place forever, but decided he’d seen enough.
Finally reaching the porch, Mike knocked on the door.
The door opened slightly, and Mike’s hopeful smile froze when he saw that the person standing in front of him was not Will, but someone… else?