Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nancy really didn't think it would take her this long to revise the submissions to The Weekly Streak. Hawkins High’s principal gave them a new “open submission” policy, which the club members initially resisted, but it basically meant more students had the opportunity to help, which could end up meaning more traction. But it also meant amateur writing, which is endlessly worse to correct.

It ended up backfiring when it was time to edit, though. She supposed the new year encouraged new and old students to try and do something different, or something of the sort, but sixty-five entries?

She wasn't complaining. It was just a lot.

“Nancy, the club period is over. They're about to close down the school.”

Nancy sighed. “Okay, just…can I bring these home? I really need to get them done today.”

Fred furrowed his brows, then relaxed. “Yeah, sure, just…you know you don't need to, right?”

Nancy sighed. “I actually do, Fred. For my own sanity.”

Fred shook his head as he opened the club door, waiting as Nancy collected the sheets of paper. After she passed, he closed the door behind him and locked it. “Okay, well, see you tomorrow.”

Nancy smiled tiredly. “Yeah, bye, Fred.”

She walked to her car, one of the only ones still in the parking lot, as she held the pile of submissions with one arm and got her keys with the other. She really wished she was carefree, maybe someone like Robin, who could 100% leave the work to be finished tomorrow. If she was, maybe she wouldn’t be having to carry this load and drive home all by herself when everyone was already inside. But then again, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be Nancy Wheeler.

“Oh, hey, sweetie, you’re home,” her mother greeted from the kitchen when she finally arrived through the front door. She dropped her gaze to the stack of paper Nancy was holding. “Long day?”

“You have no idea.” 

Karen offered a sympathetic look before she turned back to her cooking. “Oh, Nancy,” she called out before she left to drop the pile on her desk, “dinner will be ready in 15 minutes, okay?”

“‘Kay, mom, thanks. I just need a shower first.” 

She made her way to her bedroom, noticing her dad sleeping in his La-Z-Boy like always, Holly next to him. Mike’s door was closed, something that had become usual as well. She remembered being his age, all hormones and relationship troubles. She guessed it was standard for Mike, now fifteen, to go through his angsty teen phase. 

(Although Mike seemed to have been that moody nearly all his life. Maybe he was just like that — a little different.)

Submissions carefully placed on top of her bedroom desk, Nancy strode to the bathroom to heat the water and get everything ready for a quick shower. But when she walked back to her room, she saw a folded piece of paper on the floor of the hall. It must’ve fallen out from the pile, she decided, as she threw it on top of her bedroom desk without any second thoughts.

#

Principal Higgins didn’t know the first thing about journalism, Nancy decided, as she read what must’ve been the 40th student submission to The Weekly Streak. The amount of spelling and punctuation mistakes was immeasurable, not to mention the utter lack of compelling storytelling and writing skills these kids had. How was she even supposed to bring anything worthy to the crew tomorrow?

She picked up the folded piece of paper from earlier. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something by having it be the only one to fall — distinguishing it from the rest. She didn’t actually believe in that sort of thing, but she remembered how much Barb would talk about things like that. It made her feel closer to her, even if she wasn’t there anymore. 

The second she laid her eyes on the title, she knew this was going to be different from all the other submissions she had read so far.

GET REAL

Anonymous

The moment you come to Hawkins, you should be warned of one thing: this town will eat you up from the inside out. You see it everywhere; the way people whisper, the way rumors run free. You feel it most in school, but you feel it at home too. The moment something happens, or people assume something happened, word spreads around like a disease. You can’t be different in Hawkins. You can’t be yourself, or people will point you out and soon everyone will know the truth.

The problem is: I’m tired of hiding. I’m writing this because I’m frustrated, because I’m angry, because I can’t take it anymore. It’s always a rush of gossip and “why can’t you be more like the other boys your age?” and comments that associate freedom with perversion. They act like it’s your duty to be just like them. But not everyone is good at pretending. Not everyone wants to pretend forever.

I’ll just get straight to the point. I’m gay. Scandalous, right? Maybe I should be keeping it hidden in a box for the rest of my life, like all the other gay guys do. But that’s all I have been doing all of my life until now, for fourteen years. And it’s an absolute hell. It might be worse if the truth is out; but it also might be for the best.

Now, I know what would happen if I told everyone. My parents would send me straight to church, to repent for telling them what they already know but are too scared to admit. I would either be forced into a conversion camp or get beaten to death at school, or maybe, if I'm lucky, find a way to run away to New York or California or something like that. But the person I am, that everyone knows, would not be the same anymore, just because… what? Because I want to kiss a guy? Isn’t that ridiculous?

Nearly half of the Greek philosophers we study at school were gay. Oscar Wilde, one of the best writers we ever had on this earth, was convicted of homosexuality. And yet nobody ever talks about that. Because then, they’d have to admit it. That we are people just like everyone else.

Nancy's eyes widened. “Holy shit .”

This was… "bold" was probably the best word to describe it. A gay student in Hawkins was honestly something she never considered, which proved the point of the article quite well. But for him to want this message out enough to submit it to the school’s newspaper, pouring his heart out and daring to threaten the comfort zone of nearly everyone in town?

This kid was brave. Plus the first one to actually write something worth reading.

She was going to fight for this paper with all her will. After all, that's what a good journalist would do.

#

She walked into The Weekly Streak’s meeting room the next morning with her head up and a decided stomp of her heels. As soon as she spotted Fred, Nancy immediately extended her hand to give him the sheet of paper.

“Fred. Read this.”

Fred frowned, taken aback by her lack of greeting, but took the paper onto his hands. Nancy watched as Fred’s expression slowly turned into one of shock as he read it further. “Oh my god.”

“Right? We have to publish it.”

Fred looked up at her, slightly horrified. “ Nancy. Are you sure you think this is a good idea?”

“Yes.” She said, no hesitation. “This person clearly wanted this to be seen if they submitted it in the first place. We'd be bad journalists to just let it go. It's pretty decently written too.”

“You'll get the club banned.”

Nancy sighed. “Fred. Do you really think they'll shut down the only news source in the school?”

Fred shook his head nervously. “This is crazy.”

“Is it? I mean, we could censor it before we publish it, couldn't we? Plus, it'd definitely get more students to read the paper in the first place.”

Fred rubbed at his temples. “Okay, just…could you ask the others in the administration before you do this? I don't want to be the only one to greenlight this.”

Nancy smiled and took the piece of paper. She knew she had won. “Thanks, Fred.”

She spotted Candace, who was fixing up the front page for the next issue, and walked on over to her. “Candace.”

“Nancy,” she replied, without looking up.

“I have something from the student submissions.”

That got Candace to stop her activity and glance at the paper. “Oh? Anything worth reading?”

“Definitely.”

Nancy held it in front of Candace as she read it, her eyebrows shooting up. “Woah.”

“Right?”

“You think we should do this?”

Nancy shrugged. “I think it’s only right.”

Candace did a double take as she held the paper in her hands. “Then I trust you.”

Nancy smiled with a glint of smugness she was unable to hide. “Good. Let’s get this printed.”

Chapter Text

The second semester of 9th grade had barely started and Will was already tired.

High school really wasn't anything like he'd expected. Not that he expected much, based on what Jonathan said about his own experience. He definitely expected it to be harder, but not this overwhelming.

The first semester was much calmer than the second, though. The whole point was to get the freshmen ready for what was to come. Big focus on signing up for classes, and clubs, and APs, and whatever other things would make them stand out to colleges. But by the time February came, they just expected them to have gotten used to it.

“How do we have this many assignments already due next week?” Will complained to El at breakfast between pancake bites. 

She shrugged. “Isn’t that how school works?”

Will forgot she grew up in a lab sometimes. “Yeah, but…they could…spread it out, or something.”

El hummed and went back to eating. Something Will had noticed is that she wasn’t very talkative. Neither was he, so they had that in common, but he found himself talking much more in her presence. He guessed silence made him uncomfortable. Since The Party were usually the ones to fill it, he had to play that part in their absence.

“Hey, are you guys almost done?” Jonathan asked, slightly jiggling the car keys. “We need to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, almost,” El and Will said in practical unison, then giggled at each other. Despite not knowing each other for too long, and not even being actual siblings, they behaved almost like twins.

Will never thought would want anyone other than his mom and Jonathan in his family. Even when Bob came along, the idea of someone intruding, changing up everything he was used to — but then again, the Upside Down sort of forced him to get used to all that change. 

Will looked at El and he remembered how much he never wanted anything to change. But, through all the chaos they'd been through, he realized he liked having a sister, after all.

# 

Will hated Algebra, he decided, as the teacher began to explain the topic for their next exam. Sadly, no one but Will seemed to be paying attention, as there were buzzes of voices all around the classroom. Will then decided he might’ve not even hated Algebra as much as he hated his classmates.

As soon as the bell rang, he sighed in relief. Unfortunately, if the chattering was anything to go by, whatever gossip was new in town followed him to the cafeteria.

Will had barely sat down for lunch with the Party when Max came zooming to the table, a newspaper in her hands. “Holy shit, did you guys see the new article they put in the school newspaper?”

Will frowned. “No, what is it?”

She picked up the newspaper and read it aloud. “‘I’ll just get straight to the point. I’m gay,’” Will froze. “‘Scandalous, right? Maybe I should be keeping it hidden in a box for the rest of my life, like all the other gay guys do. But that’s all I have been doing all of my life until now, for fourteen years.’”

Holy shit. Will stilled. There was someone else like him, who not only was his age, but just exposed his thoughts to the entirety of Hawkins. He knew how the town worked — this wouldn’t end up confined to just high school. 

“What? ” Mike shouted, a shocked, almost horrified expression in his face.

“Oh my god.”

“I mean, they're brave as balls,” Max continued.

“It literally says ‘anonymous’,” Dustin argued.

“Well, duh. I'm saying brave, not reckless. This guy could get beat up or something. He even says so in the text.”

“I’m with Max,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. 

“Of course you’re with Max, you’re her boyfriend—”

“I got to go,” Mike mumbled and walked out of the cafeteria. 

Will looked at him in surprise, then felt a punch to his gut. He didn’t want to accept it, but what Mike said when they were thirteen confirmed it; Mike hated people like him as did everyone else.

Max frowned. “What's his damage?”

“Everybody knows Mike doesn't think gay people exist,” Dustin added, as he passed the newspaper to Will. 

“What? What do you mean?” Lucas questioned.

“We were watching Dynasty and he kept insisting Steven wasn't gay because he had a wife, when he literally said he was gay before and just got a wife because of societal standards and stuff.”

Will skimmed the page, and his eyes stuck to a certain line. 

“But the person I am, that everyone knows, would not be the same anymore, just because… what? Because I want to kiss a guy? Isn’t that ridiculous? ”

Will was going to be sick.

Max snickered. “Why were you even watching Dynasty?”

Dustin glared. “It's a good show, okay?”

Lucas poked Will on the arm, pulling him out of his trance. “Hey, you good, man?”

Will blinked back to reality. “Yeah…yeah.”

Lucas stared at him for a bit, like he wanted to say something but was hesitating. Finally, he did. “If you ever want to, like… talk or something…we’re here, okay?”

Will frowned. “Talk about what?”

Lucas shrugged. “Just…anything.”

This is weird. “Okay, um, thanks, Lucas.”

Lucas patted him on the back and turned back to Dustin. “We are not gonna let go of the fact that you said you like Dynasty.”

#

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. 

He was almost certain everyone was looking at him, just like they did when he came back from the Upside Down. He supposed it had to do with the article, but his suspicions were confirmed when he heard Stacey Albright in their shared English period. “I bet it was Zombie Boy who wrote it. Didn’t his own dad say he was a fruit?”

Will wanted to disappear into a hole in the floor.

“Yeah, but he mentions his parents sending him to church, and everybody knows he has a lunatic single mom,” her friend replied.

Stacey snickered. “Then who else could it be?”

Will didn’t even bother listening in to the rest of the conversation. He simply turned his focus away to a very elaborate doodle of a long-haired boy who looked awfully similar to Mike.

It was as if Will couldn't get what happened out of his head. The way Mike stormed off, like he was mad, like the thought of gay guys existing made him nervous. If Mike knew what was going through his mind every time he looked at him, what would he do?

And then Will thought of the letter again. This whole time, his stupid lovesick brain was making him think of Mike, and what Mike would do, and what Mike would think, and what Mike would say, when there was a real guy in his school who felt the same way he did. 

Forget Mike. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, but just as he learned to condemn it, he could learn to get used to it. What mattered now was that there was a boy his age who was going through the same thing as he was. He couldn’t just not do anything about it.

That’s what drove him to the library as soon as the bell for the free period rang.

As Will strode through the hallways, his mind raced. 

“Oscar Wilde, one of the best writers we ever had on this earth, was convicted of homosexuality. And yet nobody ever talks about that. Because then, they’d have to admit it. That we are people just like everyone else. ”

That's it.

Trying his best not to overthink it, Will quietly slipped into the back of the bookshelf on the W section, picking up The Picture of Dorian Gray and placing it on his lap. That's when he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.

To “Anonymous”:

I’m not sure you’ll read this, but in case you do, thank you. I wish I were that brave to tell the truth like that. 

PS.: This book is kind of gay, isn’t it?

— “Basil”

Will’s eyes read the note over and over until he shook himself out of it. He was never going to do this if he didn't let himself go. So he put the note on the 7th page and walked away.

#

Will was still high on the feeling of what he just did when Jonathan came up to him. 

“Hey, Will. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Will frowned. Jonathan never talked like that unless it was serious. “What is it?”

Jonathan breathed in. Will was officially nervous for what this was going to be about. “You know the new article in the paper?”

Will stilled. “Yeah. What about it?”

Jonathan hesitated. “It… was it you?”

Will widened his eyes, taken aback. “No.” He said, a little too defensive. He couldn't believe his brother was accusing him like everyone else. Was he really this obvious?

“Look, I'm not… saying anything, okay? I just wanted to make sure. You know, in case anyone could give you any trouble at school.”

Will crossed his arms. “I’m good. You don't have to worry about me.”

Jonathan looked like he was going to talk again, but gave up on it. “Okay. Just…I’m here for you, okay?”

Will’s irritation cooled off a little. “I know, Jonathan.”

“Alright. Oh, mom said she’ll be back by 6 today.”

“Okay. I’m going to my room.”

Jonathan still had that almost pitying look in his eyes. Will couldn’t stand to face him. “Okay.”

Will closed the door to his room and threw himself on the bed.

Were things ever going to be the same anymore?

Chapter Text

Mike Wheeler was going to die.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. Still, he felt as though he was. How could he not, when every secret hiding inside his mind was out in the world, just like that?

The thing was: he didn’t mean to submit that article.

Scratch that — he didn’t submit anything.

Mike wrote, because that’s what he did when he was stressed and had to take the edge off. He even considered submitting it for a brief — very brief — moment, before he crumpled the paper back into his pocket. And that's exactly where it was supposed to stay. But, for whatever goddamn reason, it fell right into Nancy’s hands, and Mike was now officially screwed.

He went through his entire school morning without even knowing about it, only finding out when Max read it out loud to the whole Party. Suddenly, all his secrets were right there for everyone to see, spilled out like a knocked down glass of water. 

He excused himself quite unsubtly, and sped as fast as he could to the boys’ bathroom, trying his hardest not to look like his whole world didn’t crumble. He wasn’t really sure he was doing a good job.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

How the fuck was he supposed to just carry on with his day like nothing happened?

Okay, Mike, calm the fuck down. No one knows it’s you. 

And that was true, wasn't it? That should have calmed him down, and, if this had happened a year ago, maybe it would have. Back then, he had a girlfriend, which was the perfect excuse for no one to suspect him. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. As far as he was aware, no one knew or even looked at him in any certain way, but he didn't feel as though he was safe from accusations anymore.

The alarm rang and, with a deep sigh, Mike shook off as many nerves as he could and walked out.

This was going to be a very long day.

#

School wasn’t much. No one could stop chit chatting, undoubtedly about the article, but it was, as much as it could be, fine. No one mentioned his name in conversation, or even looked at him more than usual. This was tolerable. Normal, even. This was going to be fine.

That was the last thought he had before he arrived home and was unfortunately reminded of how the town worked.

“Nancy, you know I always encourage you to speak your mind—”

“Yeah, well, look at where that got her,” Mike heard his dad mumble.

Karen gave Ted an icy glare before she turned back to her daughter. “But…I expected you to know better.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. She was never one to back down. “I know what I’m doing, mom.”

Karen frowned, exasperated. “Do you?”

Nancy scoffed, then straightened herself up. “I’m not arguing with you on this.”

As she started to move toward her room, in a last attempt, Karen shouted. “Do you even know who wrote it?”

Nancy stopped, then turned. “Does it really matter?”

“What?”

Suddenly, everyone was looking at him, his mother’s eyes hauntingly widened. “Michael, I didn’t realize you were home.”

Nancy looked at him like she was trying to figure him out. He hated it.

When he didn’t respond, Karen nervously looked at Ted, then back at him. “I’m just about to make dinner.”

He looked away and made his way past her. “I’m not hungry.”

Mike sped past his mom’s worried looks, his dad’s disapproving glare, his sister’s puzzled expression and just slammed his door shut, throwing himself on the bed. 

“Does it matter?”

Of course to her it didn’t matter. To her, the world wasn’t ending. It wasn’t her story, as much as she claimed it to herself. Nancy Wheeler made Hawkins High history — not the fruit who wrote it. 

Does it matter? Does it matter? Does it matter does it matter does it matter does it—

“Mike?”

He lifted his head up a little. “What do you want?”

Nancy’s voice answered, soft and gentle. “Can I come in?”

No, you fucking can’t. You ruined my life. I hate you.

Mike sat up. “Yeah.”

Nancy slowly opened the door, taking a seat next to Mike on his bed. “So…are you okay?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Mike, I know you. You’re not very good at hiding your emotions.”

He glared at her. “I guess I’m not.”

Nancy sighed. “Is this about Will?”

Mike’s emotions took over, making him forget to be aware of how he looked. “Why would it be about Will?”

Nancy looked even more worried. He wanted to tell her to get out of his room, but he didn’t. “The article. You know what people say.”

Shit.

Mike widened his eyes. “What?”

Nancy looked at him like he was crazy. “That Will wrote it.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Mike lowered his voice. “People..have been saying that?”

Nancy did the same. “Yeah? I thought this was why you were upset.”

All this time, he was worried about being found out…and Will was suffering in his place. Will, his best friend who was nothing but selfless and caring and sweet and who has gone through so, so much. This was all Mike’s fault.

Fuck.

“Mike?”

He shook himself off of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“What were you upset about?”

Shit. What was he even supposed to say? 

“I’m not upset, I just…don’t know why you would even publish that.”

Nancy frowned. “Someone wanted their story to be told, Mike. Why would I ignore that?”

Mike stared at her. How the fuck was he gonna say that wasn’t true without exposing himself? “Yeah, but…it’s so personal.”

“You know, the guys at my old job always said that ‘journalism is impartial’ but every good journalist knows there are always perspectives that are favored over others. Which means ‘personal’ is not a bad thing. And…this article is bold. It’s risky, but it’s also brave. People needed to hear what it says. That’s why I published it.”

It was so hard for Mike to convey what he was feeling. He would’ve never thought this much about what he wrote. But he also just wished this whole thing didn’t happen in the first place.

“Okay. I…think I understand.”

Nancy smiled, something in her eyes telling him she knew there was more to it than what he tried to show. It terrified him, but it also made him feel safe. Like it would all be okay after all. “Good. You know, mom and dad are so old fashioned. So scared of changes.”

“Like the David Bowie song?” He joked.

Nancy smiled. “Yeah. You know, Jonathan really likes his music.”

“Will too.”

Again was that glint of understanding. “Well. I guess some siblings are more similar than we are.”

Mike laughed. “I guess.”

He would never admit it, but sometimes he thought he was really lucky to have Nancy as his sister.

#

Mike was growing increasingly more frustrated.

The article was still the biggest buzz in town. No one stopped talking about it. Everyone in every class, the Party, even some teachers (“I don’t know how they let them publish such a thing — youth nowadays has no concept of decency anymore”). It was his worst nightmare.

He also couldn’t help the guilt he felt everytime he would look at Will. Nevermind his regular I’m-so-gross-for-being-in-love-with-you guilt, this was much worse. Will wouldn’t suffer because of Mike’s gay thoughts about him if he didn’t know; but Will being blamed for the article hurt him directly. And Mike couldn’t even apologize. 

He wanted to say something, anything. “Hey, Will, sorry people are saying you wrote the article. Don’t worry, I know you didn’t.” How would that help with anything?

Plus, Mike really didn’t want to talk about it more than everyone already was. He still hadn’t figured out how to act normal about it all. At least no one said anything about his behavior so far.

By the time the period for study hall rolled around, Mike couldn’t handle being at school anymore. He had piles of unfinished homework due Friday, but he was so exhausted he decided to let himself have a break.

Setting a corner for himself at the library, Mike glided through the shelves, knowing exactly where he was going. 

He stopped at the W section, not taking too long before he saw it. The Picture of Dorian Gray. After all the chaos lately, he needed something familiar to soothe his nerves. 

Except, this time, what happened was far from familiar. As he took the novel, a small piece of paper instantly fell out.

Mike picked it up carefully and opened it, reading what was written in it.

“Holy shit.”

Chapter Text

To “Basil”:

I can’t believe you set me up to use Dorian. That’s just cruel.

I guess telling the truth was worth it after all. But you’re wrong — I’m not brave in the slightest. If I were, people would know it was me.

— “Dorian” (“Anonymous” is just too boring of a pseudonym if we’re going to be doing this)

#

To “Dorian”:

Wow, “if we’re going to be doing this”? So it’s a frequent thing we’re building here?

Also, I did not set you up to use Dorian — you could’ve used any other name. But this does say a lot about you…

Don’t undermine your courage. Having your feelings laid out on a page, for everyone to read…I could never do that.

I really do hope this becomes a thing. I like having someone to talk to about this.

— “Basil”

#

To “Basil”:

I mean, it could be. If you want.

I guess you're right. I just couldn't miss the chance to keep a theme. It makes much more sense than if I picked something like “Blue”.

I don't feel like I agree, but I'll stop arguing. My mom says I'm too stubborn. Maybe she's right.

I like it too. When I first wrote the article I didn't think anyone else felt the same. I'm still not sure you do, but the fact that you cared enough to reach out makes me think so.

— “Dorian”

#

To “Dorian”,

What you're thinking is right. I feel the same. Maybe my parents wouldn't send me to conversion camp, per se, but the getting beat up at school thing is menacingly close to coming true and I didn't even say anything about liking boys. It's like you said: Hawkins hates those who are different. Whatever “different” means.

— “Basil”

#

To “Basil”,

That’s fucked up, but I can’t even be surprised. I’m sorry people here are like that. At least we have each other now? However lame that sounds.

— “Dorian”

#

To “Dorian”,

I guess you’re right. I’m glad to have you, Dorian. Or whatever your name really is :)

— “Basil”

#

So. It ended up becoming a thing.

Will wasn’t sure when was the last time he was as excited about something than he was right now. He would’ve never expected someone else like him to be in Hawkins, much less his age, much less this sweet. 

He’d like to say he was content with what they had, anonymous letters and all. Still, there was a part of him that wished for nothing more than to know who this boy was. He knew it wasn’t safe, and he knew it wasn’t easy. He was afraid of revealing his identity himself, worried that all he had been daydreaming about could turn out to be just that — a daydream. His gut seemed to trust ‘Dorian’, but he couldn’t help but worry this was all a ploy from the same people who called him names and seemed to want him gone from existence. 

Even so, he wished he knew. 

It was with ‘Dorian’ filling up every thought in his brain that he walked into Hellfire Club that Friday. 

When he opened the door, Will came face to face with Eddie, Gareth and Jeff all huddled up in the corner, seemingly whispering to themselves. Eddie snapped his head up at the sound of the creaking door, and gave Will a nervous smile. “Will The Wise! Aren't you a bit early today?”

He looked down at his watch. Five minutes before the start of their meetings. “Oh, sorry. I can wait outside if you need-”

“No, no, no, don't worry about it. Did you bring your sketchbook?”

Will smiled sheepily. He was still a bit embarrassed about how much Eddie and the rest of Hellfire claimed to love his drawings for the campaigns. Still, drawing was his favorite thing in the world, so it wasn't all that bad. “Yup.”

Will sat on his usual seat, and reached for his sketchbook. Just as he opened it, so did the door.

“Mike, welcome!”

Mike froze when he saw Will, his body stiff and expression panicked. Will’s chest ached. 

Ever since the article, Mike had been acting weird. With everyone, really, but especially with Will. It was like Mike knew, and couldn’t handle it. Will looked down, busying himself with his set of colored pencils. He was definitely not going to think about how Mike was one of the most important people in his life, how he was his best friend, how much it hurt to know that he would probably never look at him the same again. 

He redirected his thoughts once again to ‘Dorian’. 

Will had never thought he would fall in love; this was Hawkins, after all, so what really could he expect? But now, his stomach fluttered at the thought of this mystery boy who just seemed to understand him, to know what it was to be like him. He was smart, and funny, and Will couldn’t help but think he was probably beautiful, too. Will felt silly, but he also felt hopeful. It was nice pining over someone not impossible to get, like…well, like Mike. 

It didn’t take long before the meeting officially started. Mike was DMing this time, and it wasn’t hard for everyone to notice he wasn’t as enthusiastic as always. When Mike finished his prologue, Dustin gave Will a look, which he replied to with raised eyebrows and a shrug.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Eddie clasped his hands together. “Okay, guys, just…one thing before everyone leaves.”

The boys, who were almost out the door, stopped and looked at him curiously.

Eddie widened his eyes dramatically. “So, uh…you guys heard about the article, right?”

Will felt his heart speed up as he anticipated what the hell Eddie could have to say about the article. His mind was racing, but he didn’t have any idea on why he would want to bring it up.

“So, the article. I’ve seen some rumors circling around and wanted to clear it up for you guys, since, you know, we’re a Party and everything.” He did a dramatic pause. “I wrote it.”

Will’s throat closed up and he almost choked on his own saliva. 

If Eddie was the one who wrote it, then…

He shuddered. No fucking way.

Will hoped the petrified expression stamped on his face wasn't noticeable. He wouldn't want Eddie to take it the wrong way, but…why was it that the only time something seemed to be going right for him, it was actually just a hoax?

“WHAT?” Mike was the first to exclaim, Dustin raised his eyebrows in shock and Lucas frowned.

“Wait, but aren’t you 20? The article says he’s 14.”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Well, I thought changing the age would make it less obvious that I wrote it.” He glanced at Will. “But things got out of hand, so I’m clearing it up for you guys.”

Will felt sick. 

When the other boys just stared at Eddie in silence, he clasped his hands together again. “Okay, guys, you can go now. God, I feel like a teacher saying that.”

When Mike, Lucas and Dustin all turned to leave and Will started to turn on his heel, Eddie spoke, low enough so the other boys wouldn’t hear. “Hey, Will, can I talk to you for a second?”

Will stood, frozen. “Uh, yeah.”

He watched as Jeff and Gareth gave Eddie a strange look, and as Eddie closed the door. 

Will tried not to let his voice crack as he asked, “What’s up?”

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, then sighed. “Look, Will, I know you wrote the article.”

Will felt as if he had just gotten splashed with freezing water. “What?”

“During this past school year, I’ve gotten to know you, at least a little. You’re brave, Will. Braver than you think.” Will was so, so confused. “But I also know how it is to have a target on your back. And I don’t want that for you.”

Will frowned. Eddie took notice of the fact that he was still not really understanding what was happening, so he continued. “I know it’s not like saying it to the whole school, but I hope it helps with your friends. I think they really care about you, but, for some people, it takes getting used to. So, maybe if they get used to me first…that might help with easing it in, if you know what I mean.”

Oh. Oh, damn. Eddie thought Will wrote the article, and was covering for him. 

He would be relieved about the whole ‘Dorian’ situation if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie knew about Will. And was expecting him to say something in return.

Not yet ready to say anything about himself, he averted the subject of the conversation. “Don’t you care that people think you are…?”

Eddie smiled. “Nah. I’m used to being the town’s freak anyway.” He hesitated. “Plus,” Eddie looked down, and Will was pretty sure that was the first time he'd seen Eddie look almost…vulnerable. “They wouldn’t be wrong.”

Will widened his eyes. So… “Oh.”

“Yeah, well.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then perked up with all of his usual energy. “Anyway, yeah, just wanted to, you know. Help you out. And let you know you’re not alone.”

Will felt a tear roll down his cheek and quickly wiped it away. Had he been tearing up before and didn’t realize? “Thanks, Eddie,” he choked out. 

Eddie did a dramatic bow. “Always at your service, Will The Wise.”

Will laughed amidst the tears, and he swore he could see Eddie’s own eyes glitter.

#

By the time Jonathan arrived to pick him up, Will had cleared his face from any trace of his previous emotional state. When his brother opened the door, he simply plopped down on the passenger seat and looked out the window. 

Jesus. He had just… told someone. Sort of. Not really. But someone else knew, and was fine with it. Was dealing with the same thing, even. He wasn’t alone.

The thought gave him a sort of confidence that was almost intoxicating. His entire life, he thought he was the only one who was different, a freak, fated to a happy-never-after. But now…he didn’t know the specifics of Eddie’s life, but he was cool. He had friends who probably knew based on their reactions — which, hang on a second, does that mean they know about Will, too? — and accepted him as he was. It gave him some sort of…courage.

He glanced back at Jonathan, who had a tired look on his face. He remembered how he tried to talk to Will, but Will shut him out. Had he really been pushing him away?

As soon as they got home, Will decided to talk to Jonathan. “Hey.”

His brother perked up despite his tired eyes. “What’s up?”

Jonathan cared about him. He always had. Despite the usual animosity between siblings he observed with Mike and Nancy, and Lucas and Erica, Jonathan and he had been best friends his entire life. He was always there for him, amidst fights between their parents, hits from their father, the cruelty of kids at school, the entirety of the Upside Down period. When he asked about the article, it was to protect him ‘in case anyone could give him any trouble at school’. 

With that in mind, Will took a deep breath and, for the first time, decided to let himself trust. “The article.”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows in concern. 

“I didn’t write it.” His brother stayed quiet, waiting for his next words. “But you weren’t wrong to think it might’ve been me.”

Unsure of what to say, Jonathan looked down. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s-” Will sighed. Why didn’t he think this through a bit better? “What I’m trying to say is…I could have written that article. Because…I feel the same way.”

Jonathan’s expression softened, his eyes beginning to water. Without saying anything, he engulfed Will into a hug. 

Will felt tears roll down his cheeks for the second time that day, although now there were more. He was pretty much full-on sobbing on Jonathan’s shoulder, and all he hoped was that El couldn’t hear it from her room. He was just glad his mom was still at work, because he would not have been able to handle her seeing him like this. Not yet, anyway.

“Thank you for telling me.” Jonathan said after a beat. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

Through his tears, Will laughed. “You need more friends.”

Jonathan laughed too. “Maybe. But you’re enough for me.”

#

By the time Tuesday rolled around, everyone was talking about the school’s upcoming masquerade ball. It started as an initiative by Hawkins High’s student council, and it was no wonder that it got everyone excited. It meant a break from classes, dressing up and having fun — for popular kids, anyway. Will remembered his Snowball days very well; standing around in a corner awkwardly until he got dragged to dance with a girl he didn’t even know. Safe to say, he was not looking forward to any more of that.

He seemed like the only one, though, since Max and El were already chattering about it when he took his seat on their lunch table, and Lucas and Dustin were all smiley about it. Mike looked almost morose, but he couldn’t blame it on the ball, since he had been that way for the past two weeks.

“So, is everyone coming?”

The members of the Party turned to look at either Mike or Will, and it made him feel cornered. “Uh, probably, yeah, if you guys are going.”

“What about you, Mike?”

His only response was to shrug and play with his food. What was up with that guy?

Will knew he shouldn’t be thinking about it. But he also couldn’t. What the hell was so awful about an article that had nothing to do with him? Everyone else at school, homophobic or not, just gasped, gossiped, giggled, raged, then moved on. For him to be almost moping…

It just made no sense.

The ringing of the bell snapped Will away from his thoughts, and he stood up, exchanging a glance with Mike, who was the first to look away.

#

In the middle of class, he had a thought. 

It was stupid. Really stupid. 

But…

He was just wondering if ‘Dorian’ was going to the ball. Not like that would make a difference, since they do go to the same school already.

But…

It was a masquerade. And, as far as Will knew, masquerades meant hidden identities.

And didn’t they already have those?

He wasn’t sure if he was being stupid, or reckless, or if talking to Eddie and Jonathan yesterday officially messed with his brain.

But...

Before he could stop himself, he was back at the library, writing ‘Dorian’ another note.

To “Dorian”,

Have you heard about the ball?

That’s stupid, of course you did. But are you planning on going at all?

Feel free to ignore me, but…

I have an idea.

— “Basil”