Chapter Text
After the acceptance letter, my father proposed the idea of them moving to a place called Hawkins, Indiana. It was his childhood home (Though I’d only ever been for Christmases and when my Grandfather had passed.) I thought I’d help, I do have a week before I have to leave anyway. Over time we worked out way up to the attic. I pulled out boxes and placed them aside until one particular box caught my eye. Hawkins, 1983-1988. I grab the heavy, worn down box, and wiped the dust off. “father taught me to not snoop..” I mutter. Though that doesn’t stop the raging curiosity that flowed through my bones. I grab the box knife from the floor nearby and open the top.
Inside was a photo album—multiple, actually—labeled 6th grade. I open that first. Inside is 4 little boys, one I can make out to be my father. All of their hands holding up a big trophy. All smiling as they stand in front of a poster for a volcanic eruption. I pull it out, god, he was such a nerd. I flip through them, one of him in costume, some more of his friend groups, some of them playing DND. Then one catches my eye. This one is from a dance, with a girl. I flip back through the photos, none show her. “Why wouldn’t he have more photos with her?” I think. She looks off putting, and he just looks bored. I look at the next albums, she’s not shown again. No photo, no nothing. The rest are just drawings, some have names like “Will the Wise” and “Tayr the Paladin” whatever that means. A painting comes up. Its of people, the ones from the albums. And then a 3 headed dragon. One of them has a shield with a big, red heart on it. Why is he the only one with a shield? Shouldn’t they all have them? It doesn’t matter I guess.
And then I get to it. An invite. To a wedding. On the front of the red and white paper says “Come to our wedding” and a date underneath it labeled “July 16, 2016” I open it.
Dear Mike
I know we haven’t talked much recently, and I apologize for that. I heard about your father, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to his funeral. He was a good man. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. I’d also like to congratulate Rachel on her acceptance letter to Stanford, I knew she’d go far. She’s got your genes pulsing through her. And tell Jacob I say happy birthday. He’s reaching the age we were when it all ended. I’m glad they didn’t have to deal with that.
Anyways, have you heard? Gay marriage was legalized last year. Me and Anthony are getting married, though I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. I’d like you to come. I sent a letter to the rest of the party, Lucas and Max are coming, I’m sure Dustin will be. Please come. I’m sorry I made it weird.
Sincerely,
Will Byers.
I reread the invite over and over. What does he mean by “I made it weird” and why didn’t I know him? Apparently Rachel did but, why wasn’t he ever mentioned to me? And how does he know who I am? The most recent one was the invite, two years ago. I wonder why they stopped. I dig through the box some more and find more letters. Most of them were about what had been going on in this ‘Will’s’ life, some about holidays, but then one looked crumbled.
Dear Mike
I can’t believe today is the anniversary of everything that started in Hawkins. I keep trying to move past it, to remind myself it’s over. I moved on, but I keep getting stuck on one memory—well, multiple, technically. You. Growing up you made me feel seen in a way I never was. Not with Dustin, or Lucas, or even my family. They just never understood what I was going through, but I mean, who can blame them. Not everyone gets kidnapped and infected with the Mind Flayer at eleven years old, but even then, you understood. You were always there, better than anyone. And maybe that’s why I fell in love with you. With you, I wasn’t Will Byers, I was Will the Wise. And I know it’s dumb to think that, to think about fictional characters we made up when we were 5 but they still mean so much to me. To me they weren’t some characters they were who I could turn to when I needed someone. When I needed you.
Back when I came out I felt so scared but so beautiful. Robin had helped me with so much, gave me the courage to come out, and tried to give me the courage to ask you out. But when I saw your face, I pussied out. I was so scared that I was gonna lose you that I hid myself, still, even after you accepted me. But even after the last 23 years I can’t move on. It felt so real, like maybe you could like me, but you like women, and I’m not going to interfere with that. That’s not what I’m writing to you for. I just need you to know that I love you Mike Wheeler, and I have since we were 11, I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Will Byers.
Oh. I hear footsteps coming up the ladder to the attic, then stop, but I don’t move. “Jacob?” my father calls out. “Why did you never tell me about them?” I show him the photo of them at the science fair. “You exchanged letters with one of them, so they seem important. And what does he mean by ‘The Mind Flayer’?” My father sighs and sits next to me, moving his black hair out of his face and takes the photo. He took one hand a pointed to the boy with curly hair “That’s Dustin Henderson, that's Lucas Sinclair, and...that's Will Byers. They were my friends. Now what did I tell you about going through my things?” Guilt washes over me, I shouldn’t have gone through his stuff. “I’m sorry sir.” My dad pics up a letter. “These were mostly by Will, though you already know that. I was friends with them until they moved, and then I moved, and we kind of drifted away. I met your mother, she found one of the letters a while after we got married,, and freaked out. Told me I had to cut him off or she’d divorce me. I understand why but...” my father trails off before picking up the painting. “He was my best friend since Kindergarten.” my father holds the painting with more softness than he ever did my mother. Then he puts them up. “It doesn’t matter. It was in the past.”
“He loved you” I look up at him. “I know, but I’m not gay.” He doesn’t look at me. My father always maintains eye contact. “Did you tell him you had a wife? If it was after then he seemed pretty oblivious to you being married. I stand up as my father does. “He was my friend. That's it.”
“I never said otherwise.” I stare at him.
He doesn’t look at me. “Why did mom make you stop talking to him, she’s not homophobic. And why didn’t you tell him you couldn’t speak to him anymore. He invited you to his wedding, no one does that to someone who they know doesn’t want anything to do with them” I’m genuinely confused. With a swift move past me, my father walks towards the ladder before pausing “I expect you to continue to not go snooping. I expected better from you, you’re 19 for Christ's sake.” and then he climbs down.