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Five year old Mike Wheeler couldn't understand how people could be so nasty. The other day, a girl named Veronica Nelson had pulled his hair. The day before that, his classmate Troy Walsh had pushed him into a muddy puddle, leaving Mike with soaked clothes, scraped hands, and an upset mother.
And even before that, James Dante had called him Frog-face (a name that, unbeknownst to Mike, would stick for a very long time afterwards).
In Wheeler's opinion, recess was the worst part of school. During classes, there were teachers to scold the mean kids. At lunch, he could stay at his lunch table, close to the supervisors. But at recess, he was forced to sit alone on the floor, never being invited to play tag or make-believe.
Every single one of his classmates seemed to have a best friend. Everyone except for..
A boy sitting alone on the swings.
He meekly approached the boy, practicing in his head what he was going to say. Hi! I'm Mike. What's your name? Do you wanna be friends? Hi! I'm Mike! What's your name? Do you wanna be friends? Hi! I'm
"What's your Mike- name- do you wanna be- hi- what's-" Mike mentally punched himself. He couldn't believe he messed it up.
The boy just stared at him with his big eyes, unmoving.
After a deep breath he tried again - "I'm Mike. Do you wanna be.. friends?"
With a small smile, the boy nodded.
---
Eight year old Mike Wheeler could confidently say that first, second and third grade were much better than kindergarten. He had his very own best friend, Will, after all.
Will liked to draw. Almost every day, he would be at Mike's house, making pictures for Mike to tape to his walls and eventually start putting them in a binder when he ran out of space.
Will liked to watch movies with Mike. He didn't seem to mind the taller boy's constant talking, commenting, and laughing. He quite enjoyed it, actually - once in a while, he would laugh along with him, and if he was feeling bold, would also crack a joke.
But no matter how much Mike enjoyed Will's company, there were things he couldn't understand about him.
Like how Will always seemed to be sporting some kind of bruise, either on his arms, or his neck, and sometimes, even his face.
Or how Will was scarily quick to apologize every time he so much as thought he did something wrong, and how afraid he seemed whenever he accidentally stepped out of line.
Or how Mike was never allowed to visit Will's house, even though Will always came to Mike's.
At first, he didn't notice these strange details as much. But one day, Will had showed up to school with a bleeding cut on his arm, on the verge of tears and unwilling to give an explanation other than I fell. Every day after that day, Mike brought a pack of bandaids with him to school, just for Will.
With his best friend by his side, Mike had thought that the mean kids would stop being mean. But they didn't stop pulling his hair, or pushing him into puddles, or calling him names. And after a while, Mike couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror. He was unable to see his own face and the unusual shape of it without the word frog-face popping into his head.
---
Eleven year old Mike Wheeler now had two more friends: Lucas and Dustin. He also learned how to play Dungeons and Dragons, teaching his three friends (three! Mike still couldn't believe he had three friends!) how to play. They would spend hours upon hours in his basement, playing the campaigns that Mike would work so hard on.
But no matter how many friends Mike could make, Will was always his best friend. Will was finally old enough to sleep over at Mike's house, and although the former would often wake up abruptly in the middle of the night due to bad dreams, Mike was more than happy to be there to comfort him.
It wasn't long before Mike learned that he could only hug Will when they were in his basement or in his room, and he could only hold his hand or lean his head on his shoulder when they were in private.
He had unwittingly made the mistake of holding Will's hand in the hallways before being teased about being a queer. Mike didn't know what it meant, but something told him it wasn't good.
---
Fifteen year old Mike Wheeler was in his basement with Will, leaning backwards on the couch as the other boy passionately kissed him, ABBA playing on the stereo and drowning them out.
Mike savored the feeling of his boyfriend's hands combing through his hair and the millions of kisses he would gently plant on his neck, his lips, his freckles-
As the chorus to the current song came up, Mike pulled away and started to sing along.
"There's not a soul out there!" he belted, horribly off-key. Will's eyebrows shot up and he giggled. "No one to hear my prayer..." The two boys got up from the couch and Mike took both of Will's hands in his own, dancing and moving (not quite gracefully) to the music.
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight,
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?
"Gimme, gimme gimme a man after midnight-" Will sang happily, Mike joining again,
"Take me through the darkness to the break of the day."
Will Byers was in love with Mike Wheeler. After years of constant torment, first from his poor excuse for a father and next from his vicious classmates, he had truly lost all self esteem there was to lose. But being around Mike made it all seem better.
Mike constantly reminded him that he loved him. He never got tired of Will, he was always willing to listen to his problems (no matter how stupid Will thought they were). His warm touch, his hugs-that-turn-into-spins, his comforting hand on his shoulder.
And Mike Wheeler was in love with Will Byers. Will never hesitated to tell Mike how beautiful he was, how his freckles were scattered across his face like the little specks of powdered sugar on warm pastries. How his hair reminded him of cotton candy and clouds, how his warm hands brought comfort to him no matter what.
Mike stopped avoiding the mirror, starting to notice the beautiful things about himself that Will would always point out. He stopped wearing strictly oversized hoodies and big pants, not as ashamed of his slightly lanky body.
Will's nightmares became less frequent, because he always knew that Mike was one walkie talkie away - or, on the occasion that they were sleeping over, Mike was right next to him.
And slowly but surely, each boy helped the other to heal. As long as their relationship was a secret - as long as everyone else saw them as just friends - they could live happily ever after.
---
Sixteen year old Mike Wheeler found himself struggling to breathe and hardly being able to see through his right eye. He could taste his own blood and had lost all feeling in his face. His father's yelling and cussing was much too loud for the first few minutes, but after a while, it felt like he was hearing everything from underwater.
He felt another swift punch to his stomach and he heard himself make a sickening gagging sound. He could see Will pressing himself against the wall, watching in horror.
Ted Wheeler had been heading down to the basement to ask his son to turn the volume of his music down - Ted could hardly take his afternoon nap. What he had walked in on was something he had never, ever expected to see in his life.
His son was making out with that damn Byers kid.
Instinctually, he was furious. Disgusted. Ashamed that he had done such a poor job of raising his child. He grabbed Byers by the shoulders and threw him to the ground before the kid backed himself into a corner, whimpering. Pathetic, he thought to himself.
Ted turned to his son, his horrible, screwed up, queer son, and grabbed him by the collar.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked through gritted teeth. Michael's eyes were wide with panic. He was kicking his dangling legs and trying to claw his dad's hands off of his neck.
"I-"
The question was rhetorical. Ted had never been so angry in his life, and what he did next was justified in his (horribly twisted) mind. He started to punch his son, over and over and over again until he saw blood stream out of his nose. He called him words that even Mike didn't want to repeat in his head. He threatened to hurt him if he ever saw him again.
He said that Michael Wheeler, the fag, was no son of his.
He gave him ten minutes to pack his shit and leave - a second more and the police were to be called.
---
(Still) sixteen year old Mike Wheeler woke up in a bed - not his bed, though- no. It was smaller. The sheets were scratchier. The room smelled of pencil shavings and oranges. Mike's favorite scent. He slowly opened his eyes and lazily looked around, immediately recognizing where he was.
"Will?"
No answer - Will's bedroom was empty.
"Will?" Speaking louder made his chest hurt.
Mike heard a chair from the other room move and then he heard light footsteps getting closer to the door. From behind the door peeked Will, whose face immediately relaxed. Mike was met with a very gentle hug from his boyfriend. His eyes widened.
"Oh my god," he said, suddenly remembering. "Will, are you okay?" He was met with Will's bewildered face.
"Mike- I'm fine, are you okay?"
"Are you hurt anywhere? That looked like it must have hurt- I'm so sorry about my dad, I-"
"Mike," Will said sternly. "Stop worrying about me. You're the one we should be worried about." Mike shook his head ferociously.
"I'm- I'm so sorry, Will." Mike felt sobs start to rack his body and he reached his arms out. Will's eyes brimmed with tears (though he tried not to show it) as he leaned in for another hug.
"Don't be sorry, Mike," he whispered shakily. "Don't be sorry."
For the first time in his life, Mike felt utterly and completely lost. It started to dawn on him that he was just kicked out. He didn't have a home. He was grateful that he was at the Byers's at the moment, but he knew Will's mom couldn't house Mike. He wanted to talk to his mom, but he was sure his dad had told her what had happened. He was sure that he would never get to come out to her properly, the way he wanted to, because his stupid dad ruined it.
He needed to talk to his sister Nancy, the only person he had told any of this to. Mike knew he could trust her, and no matter how annoying of a person she was.. he had to admit she was a damn good sister.
Mike didn't know if he would be allowed to talk to his sister. He didn't even know where he was going to sleep that night.
---
Eighteen year old Mike Wheeler stood in front of his bedroom mirror, adjusting his black tie and dark red blazer one last time.
"Mike!" he heard his mom yell from downstairs. "Your date is waiting."
"Coming, mom!" he screamed back, taking one last look in the mirror before rushing downstairs. His eyes met with Will's and he involuntarily let out a small gasp. He was so used to seeing Will in sweaters or t-shirts - he had never seen him in such a beautiful, flattering outfit before. He couldn't get over the fact that he was his prom date.
Even after three years of dating, Michael Wheeler woke up every day in awe of the fact that Will Byers loved him.
Mike looked over at his mom. She was wearing a purple dress (that he was pretty sure actually belonged to Nancy - the two of them had started to share clothes a lot) and had done her makeup beautifully and confidently. After the divorce a few years back, Mike could tell she started to really find herself.
Karen Wheeler stood in front of her son and his boyfriend with a proud smile and a Polaroid camera in her hands.
"Okay, guys, say cheese!"
"Oh come on, mom, I said no pictures!" Mike complained, just like he did his whole life.
"Pleaaaase, Mike! Just one. This is going in the scrapbook!"
Her son groaned, trying to hide his smile. "Fine," he said, trying hard to sound reluctant.
"Less looking at each other and more looking at the camera," she said through a laugh. After snapping at least ten pictures, she finally released them.
Nancy and Jonathan were a few feet behind Mike's mom, whispering to each other and giggling at the sight of their siblings being ambushed by Karen's camera. The two of them were volunteering at the school dance, and Nancy was just glad she wasn't the one being photographed against her will.
Finally, Karen let them go, giving all four of them a peck on the cheek and a "Have fun! Make good choices!"
Nancy and Jonathan drove off first, leaving Mike to open the passenger door for Will. The latter blushed before getting in. With a small smile, Mike hopped into the driver's seat and the two of them made their way to their senior prom.
And in that moment, Mike Wheeler felt like.. everything was gonna be alright.