Chapter Text
Timeline
Summer 1987 – Fall 1988: Events from Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe and Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World
Fall/Winter 1988: Dante moves to Paris to attend university.
Spring 1989: Aristotle graduates from high school in El Paso.
Spring 1989: Will, Mike, Dustin, Max, and Lucas graduate from high school.
Fall 1989: Will moves to New York.
Ari (Aristotle) and Dante are a canon couple who become long-distance by the end of their story. If you haven’t watched or read their story, I highly recommend it.
CHAPTER 1: ENVELOPE
Fall 1989 — El Paso, Texas
It has been a year since Ari and Dante parted ways in Paris. Since then, they haven’t had the chance to see each other. Ari started a part-time job as a lifeguard while beginning his first year at the University of Texas. Dante is nearing the end of his 1988–1989 academic year.
Ari has spent that year saving up. Sometimes, he uses some of his savings to buy an international calling card just to call Dante for a couple of minutes—to hear his voice. It was expensive, so he only did it a few times. He receives letters from Dante and tries his best to keep up.
Ari,
Today, I saw a portrait of Cocteau by Federico de Madrazo y Ochoa. There was something about his eyes—his eyebrows—maybe it was the shadows. The portrait really called to me. Maybe I saw you in his eyes. Maybe it was myself that I saw instead.
Whatever it was, I felt that when I get the chance to see you again, I will try to paint a handsome portrait of you too. Once I get it done, I better see it framed and showcased on your empty wall.
I miss you, Ari. I miss you so much. I see you everywhere. I hear you everywhere. I cannot wait until I am wrapped in your arms again. How can I not feel the pain when you’re not near me?
I have a trip to New York City from May 14 to June 29, after my second year ends. I will be attending a few conferences hosted at the Met, the Guggenheim, and MoMA. I’ll be staying with other students from around the world who were invited. I’m looking forward to meeting these up-and-coming artists.
I would come down to El Paso, but we can’t really leave New York during the duration of the program since it’s sponsored. I’m hoping you can come visit me if you get the chance.
Love,
Dante
Ari folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. He hunched over, reached under his bed, and pulled out a blue box—letters from Dante, neatly organized and sorted by date received. Ari slipped the envelope inside and closed the lid.
A trip to New York City?
Maybe this is the chance Ari has been waiting for—to finally reunite with Dante after a year of unbearable yearning.
Fall 1989, Manhattan, New York City
Will has moved to New York City with Jonathan and started school at SVA (School of Visual Arts). He has been trying to adjust to the rowdy, relentless life the city has to offer. Jonathan helped him through the changes, and it’s been good—but Jonathan isn’t someone who understands him the way his friends back in Hawkins did.
Jonathan spends most of his time filming his magnum opus, The Consumer, and since Will already provided him with storyboards, there isn’t much else he can do. Will has made surface-level friends, but no one he can share his deeper thoughts with—at least not yet.
“Please make sure you look at your syllabus for the upcoming assignments. Next week, we’ll start sketching two nude models—one woman and one man. Hand in your still-life sketches from today’s class.”
Students began dropping off their pages. As Will was about to hand in his sketch, Professor James cleared his throat.
“Mr. Byers, can you come see me during my office hours?”
Will looked up, raising an eyebrow.
Professor James smiled. “Don’t worry—it’s good news.”
Will nodded.
“Oh, and can you let your classmate, Mr. Brown, know that he’s invited as well?”
Andrew Brown was an aspiring comic book writer obsessed with the supernatural. Will got along with him well; they exchanged conversations here and there, but to call them close would be a stretch. Andrew was confident, passionate, and it showed in everything he talked about. There was nothing more attractive than a passionate man—it didn’t hurt that Mr. Brown was incredibly handsome.
“Sure,” Will replied.
Will slipped his sketchbook into his portfolio case and shoved his graphite into his backpack. Andrew was halfway out the door when Will tapped his shoulder.
“Hey.”
Andrew turned, smiling down at Will. “Hey, man! What’s up?”
“Professor James wants to see us later.”
“For what?”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t say.” Will glanced around, searching for an empty corner. “Want to wait together? His office hours start in an hour.”
Andrew grinned and placed a hand on Will’s back, guiding him toward the corner. “Sure, man. I’ve got a few theories for my comic that I want your perspective on.”
For the next hour, they talked about characters and story ideas. Will pulled from his experiences in Hawkins, helping Andrew fill in gaps and avoid plot holes.
“Hey,” Andrew started, “after this… do you want to come with me? I’ve got a few friends I’d love to introduce you to.”
“Oh. Okay. Uh. Sure. That sounds fine,” Will replied nervously.
Andrew leaned against his shoulder. Their arms were touching. The conversation had flowed so naturally that Will only just noticed how close they were.
Will checked his watch. “Hey, it’s almost time.”
He looked up too fast—Andrew was inches from his face. Their eyes locked. The moment stretched, heavy and silent, until they both turned away at the same time.
“Uh. Let’s go.”
Will and Andrew sat across from Professor James’s desk, waiting.
“So, boys,” Professor James began. “There’s a program in the spring looking to host artists from all over the world. The chairman asked me to select a few students to represent SVA—and I think you two are up for it.”
Andrew’s eyes widened.
“I see a lot of talent walk these halls,” Professor James continued, “but you both have something special—something that could benefit the art world and help build partnerships with similar programs. The program is free of charge, and you’ll be rooming with the other artists.”
“I’m in!” Andrew said immediately, turning to Will.
Will was stunned.
Is this the chance I’ve been waiting for?
He didn’t want to live with more regrets. Change hadn’t always been bad. And Andrew would be there too.
“Will?” Andrew asked, hope flickering in his eyes.
Will finally looked up. “I’m in.”
Fall 1989, Hawkins, Indiana
Mike woke from a nightmare—the same one as always. It starts with the day El disappeared, then fractures into memories from the summer he spent with his party. They tried to keep playing campaigns, but it was obvious they were drifting apart. Everyone had their own plans now.
The dream always ends in the same dark mindscape—where he last saw El. He stands alone, calling their names one by one, but no one answers.
Mike was genuinely happy for the Byers brothers moving east. Will’s talent was finally being recognized—Mike had always known it would be. Maybe one day they’d see each other again.
But it felt unlikely. Jonathan and Nancy had broken up. El was gone. There was no reason to see Hopper. And Will probably didn’t want—need—to see him again. When Will hugged him goodbye, there had been hesitation.
Mike still lived at home and spent his days writing. He’d published short stories in the local paper, built a small following, and even won a few competitions. Sometimes, he joined local campaigns to relive his old adventures. It wasn’t the same—but it was still fun.
He headed to the living room as his mom walked in.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“You got mail…” She scanned the envelope. “From—”
“Readout Publishing!” Mike blurted, snatching it from her hand.
Karen gasped.
Mike tore it open, reading it once—twice—then looked up.
“Mom, my manuscript got accepted!” He grabbed her, lifting her onto her tiptoes and kissing her forehead. “I could get my novel published. A book. My first book!”
“That’s amazing!” Karen said, laughing. “What happens now?”
She read the letter herself, then paused. “It says you need to meet them for revisions... in a few months… but their office is in—”
“New York,” Mike finished.
Karen frowned. “Why New York? That’s far. You’re still grieving, Mike. You’re still having nightmares…”
“Mom,” Mike said gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. “This is the publishing company. I can’t pass up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Karen hesitated. He was better now—not numb, not hollow. And he was an adult.
“When?” she asked. “And how long?”
Mike grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”