Chapter Text
Maybe when Will was approached by a man, tall and close-shaven in a pressed suit, he should have looked the other way.
“Your work could sell, you know.” He had said, offering a business card, rounded edges and matte finish.
Later that night, he lay in bed,contemplating.The card looked classy, as Will turned it over and over in his palm.
He had been in the large Cali-style mall with his two siblings, busking right by the Sears. Jane, or El as he still called her, on a synth, Jonathan on drums. Will strummed along the cords of ' ‘fox on the run’’ lazily. He did leading vocals as well, but not as well as El could. But she was having a strong bout of stage fright that morning as they set up, so he didn’t mind doing it.
They’d only really done it for El’s sake, she could sing but had terrible stage fright. The counsellor the Byers family had started seeing encouraged the kids to explore their hobbies. Will managed to book a few of his wildlife paintings in an independent art gallery, and Jonathan had started working a cool job as computer support for a game magazine. And El, she’d taken up karaoke.
She was good, and this was good for her. So by the end of ‘89, the three had managed to create a somewhat cohesive act that they could take out on the town. Busking played well enough, and El really enjoyed it.
“What do you think he meant?” Will had asked the next morning over pancakes. “Cover bands don’t sell.”
It was a quiet Sunday morning, Joyce and Hopper having left to go grocery shopping.
El shrugged, drowning her plate in syrup. “Maybe he meant, like, our original stuff?”
“But it doesn’t even have lyrics” Will shook his head. Pop music just didn’t sell without lyrics.
So clearly, the business-suit guy was a con man. He certainly didn’t recognise the name of the record label on the smooth, matte card.
They weren’t in the phone book, he could find anything at the library. If only he had friends he could ask, someone who knew music. He could ask El to ask Mike, who could in turn ask Max. she was probably cool enough to know these things.
Will didn’t know, he hadn’t seen Max in a few years. Out of everyone, he only saw Mike sometimes, on his occasional visit to see El. those had grown pretty infrequent now, he hadn’t even heard from mike a few months.
So Will sucked it up, called the number on the card, chewed his lip as he waited on the rings. One. two. Picked up on three.
“Hello, I was given this number at a mall?” He said, before the voice on the other end could even get a word in.
As it turns out, Replacement Records was a pop and rock label based out of California, trying to get talent by going around and recruiting at malls and subway stations. Will couldn’t judge, it had worked on him.
He was right as well, the company was interested in original pop music they could get the rights too. They wanted proper bands, no covers allowed. The man on the other end of the phone was audibly disappointed when Will stated they had no full complete tracks, no formal training and no brand to speak of.
“No worries, how about you send us a demo tape with a few songs and we’ll see?” He had said, and Will hesitated, told him to hold before dropping it down on the couch and running to El’s room, then Jonathan’s, rounding them up. They whooped and cheered when Will told them they’d been asked for a demo tape. Then Jon’s face dropped as he asked what songs they had.
They decided it was worth a shot, Will returning to the phone and getting the man to repeat the address of their P.O. box several times while El tried to scribble it down on a notepad.
And then started a low day of the three of them, pulling out his guitar, and all of them trying to write multiple songs on the spot. They’d decided they were aiming for 3.
And to be far, it was easier than expected. They’d gotten about 5 songs written up in their roughest form right as Joyce and Hop returned and all three kids dropping what they were doing to tell them the good news.
By mid-afternoon, they had basically polished up their 3 complete songs, the three having moved to Jonathan's room where the drum kit and amp was. It was old and missing a ride, so they had to make all the songs a bit more aggressive so the crash wasn’t out of place.
However, the crucial issue was the lack of lyrics. They had made pretty smooth beats all in all, but none of this was monetisable. Jonathan literally couldn’t write for the life of him, he cartoonishly scratched his head if he ever had to string words together. El, bless her heart, had a pretty limited grasp on the English language, let alone the structure of lyrics and stressed syllables.
So Will just took one for the team, as he always did.
He came up with lyrics that El could sing on the demo tape, most were pretty rudimentary. She seemed sorry that she couldn’t help, so Will tried his best to include her in the writing process as Jonathan left the room to make dinner.
“What do you want to sing about, El?” He’d prompt.
“Parties. And being cool.” She’d reply, excited.
“What bothers you?”
“Angela called me bad names at school again today.” she’d supply “And Mike, He hasn’t written me back yet.”
Eventually, Jonathan called the household for dinner. The whole family sat around the table and ate, while Will pondered over his notebook while ignoring his food.
He started the day in the same way he'd started it, lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling.
He wrote all through the bus ride to school, throughout his classes and lunch. On the bus ride home, he’d managed lyrics for a solid three songs. One half-breakup cheating type song, one about hating a non-specific blonde girl and a song about having a fat crush and also being at a party. Will figured they’d work fine, radio-enough.
These were moments when he missed Hawkins. If he was still there, he could have asked Nancy, maybe? She was a pretty solid writer. But Jonathan hadn’t talked to her in forever, they could figure out long distance, so it’d be weird if Will just called her up.
Once he got home from school, El in tow, he’d waited excitedly for Jonathan to get back from work so they could try out the few lyrics. In the meantime, he and El went over the lyrics, to make sure she was comfortable with it all. She seemed particularly happy with the breakup song, asking that Will duet her on a few bits that she didn’t want to sing alone. She said they ‘hit her in the heart’, a subject Will did not push. Other than that, a few lines like ‘running cocaine’ became ‘jumping a train’ and other drug mentions being taken out, because El didn’t want to send the wrong message or whatnot.
By the time Jonathan got back, the other two had already set up his room with the kit and amp and synth all plugged in and ready to go. Jonathan had borrowed audio equipment from Argyle, an old friend from high school that now worked TV. He showed up shortly after, and stuck around to watch them play.
Will felt a bit uncomfortable singing about how ‘his girlfriend doesn’t stand a chance’ with Argyle there, but then again, the guy was properly glazed over in the corner so he didn’t worry.
They had a bunch of recordings to sort through by the time dinner rolled around, Argyle dipping out and returning with a thick crust pizza that Hop was less than happy about. Joyce made them a side of veggie sticks to go alongside it, which El and Will both ate.
By the time Argyle left for the night, they’d settled on the final three takes to go with. They labelled them and sent the stoner on his way to put the tracks onto the tape for them.
They celebrated with a late night car ride, despite it being way too late on a school night. El had killed it on the synth and Jonathan was great. Will was totally jealous that he could play that drum kit so well despite only owning it for about nine months. It kind of crazy how this had spun from just El’s karaoke habit she’d picked up two years prior.
They stayed out way past curfew, Jonathan having stopped for liquor around midnight. Will and El split some vodka spritzer thing in a can while the older had three Redhooks all to himself. They managed to park in the driveway around one in the morning, Jonathan, ever the responsible one, waited until they were safely parked before indulging in his drinks.
That’s how the three had ended up sleeping in the hunk of a van Jonathan owned, with him still in the front seat and the two younger ones cuddled together in the back.
The morning hit fast, with them being woken up by Joyce knocking on the window of the truck, still in her dressing robe. She looked more relieved than mad once she saw El draped over Will, who was occupying most of the backseat.
They weren’t even grounded, as Joyce kissed them all on the cheek before the kids went off to school and Jonathan drove into work.
Will and El took their unofficial assigned seats on the bus near the back, El in the window seat. Will used to sit elsewhere before this Austin kid had gotten a bit too grabby with her last year. Jonathan threatened to rearrange his face when he swung by the school for lunch.
Will kind of laughed internally at that memory. He went over this notebook, El’s head perched on his shoulder as she read out the notes she could decipher.
By then, they’d already named the tracks. The demo tape featured the new tracks My Smile Is Gone, She‘s My Competition and Used To Know, along with a cover of Warrant’s Cherry Pie. That one was for fun, but the recording turned out well so why not. El had sung on the tracks, safe for Cherry Pie. Will sung half of Used to know, but El really carried them vocally.
So now the harder part, the brand.
They were, just, not a real band…No name, no theme, nothing.
Somehow, Will and El came up with a list of band names on the bus ride, and called Jonathan at lunch to run it by him. Once everything was set, it was a lot of coordination. Jonathan would borrow a camera from his old coworker who was still in the news. Will could steal some fancy markers from the art room.
So when they all sat around the living room and heard the doorbell ring, they all sprang to their feet as Argyle, the king he is, walked through the door, tape in hand.
Will gave him a big hug, swiped the tape right out of his hands, and locked himself in his room. El began decorating the bubble mailer with stickers and swirls galore. Jonathan took out his workbook with the thumbnails he’d come up with during work.
By early evening, Open Shot’s demo tape was done; tracklist on one side, cool logo painted on the other. It got wrapped in tissue paper before being put in the bedazzled bubble mailer, ‘Open Shot Demo’ written in charmingly crooked cursive. Will printed the address underneath it as Jonathan set up the living room wall for a little photoshoot.
The newly formed band put on baggy formal wear, Will in Jonathan's hand-me-downs and El in his old Semi tux. Jonathan wore a stupidly large dress shirt he’d bought for a halloween costume the year prior.
They all got undressed and ate while Jonatathan developed it in his closet-turned-darkroom.
It came out well, slightly overexposed on purpose. They were all sitting on the sofa, stupid expressions on their faces. El had her long hair in a bun, so they all looked like they had the same haircut from the front. Joyce cut all their hair and blunt cut bangs seemed to just be the buyer's staple.
They signed the back of the picture.
When they went to sign their names, El pointed out they didn’t need to put their real names.
And so, another spiral of choices.
They landed on ‘May 1989. Open Shot: Willy, Jonny and Janey Byers’. ANd into the bubble mailer it went.
They got a call saying the record label had received it a week later and by June, Will and El had missed the last day of school to be in a recording booth. By then they’d already come up with a roster of cool beats they could pitch.
They rocked up the place out of their element, El practically bursting with excitement.
The record label had made some changes to their act, aiming to create a more marketable persona. Will and El found themselves a double act, with the Replacement Records executive insisting they wear similar clothes and even get proper matching haircuts to enhance their on-stage chemistry. Janey, on synth, with an asymmetric bob would grab people’s attention, no doubt!
At first, Will felt a bit uneasy about the idea.
El, always the more adventurous of the two, embraced the change wholeheartedly, already envisioning the coordinated outfits they would wear on stage. It certainly wasn’t that big of a change for Will, as he already basically shared a closet with her.
Jonathan was given the task of developing a gimmick to make him stand out. The label suggested incorporating flashy drum solos into their performances or even experimenting with unconventional percussion instruments to add a unique flair to their sound. This was, obviously, a tall ask in hindsight as Jonathan was still very new to the drums.
As for the music itself, the label wanted to steer them towards a more mainstream direction, emphasising catchy hooks and similar ideas. They sold a few of the rights to their sadder songs, making a sizable amount of cash. Enough for the band to be considered profitable, at least.
The new tracks Will had written in the past months with his new interest in writing were basically dumbed down from being about his life experience to being a love song. Or a song about feeling like you don’t belong in your own skin became a love song.
Jane just told him to not even try pitching the song he’d written about being kidnapped and having superpowers. Will agreed.
The label had put them in some semi-decent motel where, when they weren’t in the studio, they could do their thing. Jonathan spent most of his time practising or working his job remotely through the motel's shitty phone network. El, or Jane as Will more frequently called her by now, spent most of her time on the phone with Mike. They’d recently made up, making long distance work longer than Jonathan had, but it still wasn’t great.
The three shared a room for the first few days, before splitting up into three separate suites. Will said to the record label associate it was due to the drums when really, he just didn’t want to hear El yell at Mike for hours on end. He knew he’d get a recap from her later on anyways, as he had to comfort her through her sobs.
Will doesn’t really remember what his younger self had ever seen in Mike, considering all he did was make the greatest thing in his life miserable. Crazy together? Bullshit.
Jane was doing well, considering. But most of Will’s time was split between comforting her and writing, sometimes at the same time. This is how most of their new songs for the upcoming EP slowly started all becoming about Mike.
It was kind of embarrassing, when he thought about it.
He hoped Mike never came to their future shows, and never listened to the music in general. He’d definitely be able to tell. But based on the fights El had been having with him, it was clear he probably wouldn’t, given how unsupportive El had said he was about the whole music thing. Granted, she was properly exaggerating, but Will was in no hurry to defend him.
Open Shot had finished their new EP ‘The Tragedy of a Gunslinger's Dreams’ was set to be done soon. Replacement Records had set them up as the opener on some more established up-and-coming bands’ tour. Will hadn’t heard of any of them, but they were assured of a turnout. They were set to tour with them next month, all throughout August. Pretty much every state had a date.
This, of course, sounded excessive but the label really started going all in after the first track they’d done, ‘My Smile is Gone’, got sold to some rando sleaze band for an insane amount of money and actually charted in both the US and Canada. Apparently, their music was already Replacement Record’s cashcow and they hadn’t even done a proper release yet. They’d done a few bars, a few malls, nothing serious. The tour involved real venues, being the opening band for a bunch of different artists. Mostly pop bands with decent followings.
Jonathan was meant to quit his job before the tour, but he never did. It made no sense to the director, but Will knew that he liked helping out little kids stuck on Castlevania or whatnot. But even then, it was starting to get in the way.
Jonathan put in a resignation the day before they set off on tour. That was the second last phone call the group placed before leaving, the actual last being a call home to assure Joyce and Hop that they were okay, with Will (and presumably Jane) being freshly eighteen and Jonathan also being an adult, they could take care of themselves. Their tour manager, Stanley, rushed them off the phone before Joyce could get a word in. It really dampened their mood as they all loaded into the tour bus, that was really more like a large van.
They all just sort of sat there, being driven from California to Arizona over the next two days. They loved each other, don't get it twisted! But after studio and motel, going stir-crazy for a whole month, and now being loaded into a van for the next month? It was just setting in. Will hadn’t gone this long without a mother in years, and it was daunting.
Jonathan was the first to call it quits, hogging the bigger bed to himself. Will suspected it was because it was next to an openable window. Jane took the smaller bed and beckoned over to Will to join her. She fell asleep in the crook of his neck as he read The Lord of the Rings and assured her they’d call Joyce the next day, when they stopped at a gas station. Will held the book in his left hand, while his right played with her hair that's been cut short just the week before.
Will had also grown out his own a few inches, just so Jane didn’t have to get the full chop but they could still match. They were both sitting at a comfortable shoulder height at the moment. It annoyed Will to no end. It got in his eyes and stuck to his cheeks when he practiced bass, mostly piling up on the back of his neck with the sweat.
Will couldn’t sleep that night, despite being exhausted, He was kept up by the occasional whimper or twist in Jane's sleep.
He collapsed on the motel bed once they were loaded into the building in Arizona, hogging one of the two beds their tour manager had organised for them. Jonathan had slept well, so Jane took the bed and crashed even heavier than Will.
Will was woken up violently by the motel room phone ringing off the hook, jolting him awake with its brisk tone. He checked the clock, 2pm. Will knew they were set to be at soundcheck by 5. He picked up the phone and tried to stay as awake as possible.
“Hey, El. Did you arrive safely?”
Mike’s distinct voice came over the other end of the line. Will froze.
“Oh, vocal rest, huh?” he continued. “Well, about the fight. I wish you’d call more, ‘cause the phone line works both ways. I’m sorry you felt that way, but I seriously can’t rationalise flying out to see you perform. I have to think about myself a little… good luck tonight.”
Then he stopped. Will almost thought he hung up with how long his pause was.
“Nancy says to say hi to Jonathan for her. We’ve been wondering if you’ll pass by anywhere close to us in Hawkins? Nancy would love to come and support you guys…if that’s something you’d want?”
Will hung up. He dressed and left the building, meeting up with the rest of Open Shot in the lobby, including their new keyboardist and sound mixer, as well as the tech guy. Will couldn’t remember their names if he tried, they would only be with them for the next few shows anyways.
They’d let him sleep in, Jonathan caught him up in the discussion over mid-day breakfast. Setlist, date and times, crowd control. Janey and him would be the main singers and Jonny could chime in if he wanted. The manager didn’t want him too, but gave him a mic to let him. Jonathan asked Will about how he slept while wrapping both their hands up in athletic tape; Will on his fingers and Jonathan against his palms.
By 5 they had set up the stage and had their soundcheck. By 6 they had let everyone in. They started up quickly after that, being the opening and all. It was a great turn out, and it felt great performing in front of so many people. Will tried to forget said people weren’t there specifically to see them. But at least the crowd was good, energy-wise.