Chapter Text
Chapter 1 song - Just Like Honey, The Jesus and Mary Chain
October 28th, 1987 — Hawkins, 7:27 AM
There was always something beautiful about Will’s artwork. Every brushstroke held so much emotion, every color intentional. Mike was able to tell stories, sure, but Will could create them, bringing his campaigns to life through watercolor and acrylics. Mike’s eyes trace over the red heart adorning his shield. He looked so brave, so strong. Will made him look that way. He continues staring across the room, lips pursed in thought, until Nancy’s voice breaks him out of his trance.
“Mike, I swear I am not warning you again!”
“Shit—” Mike curses to himself, throwing his sheets aside and springing out of bed. He steals a glance at the clock on his bedside table. It’s 7:30, meaning he has maybe five minutes to get ready before he’s running late for school. Mike yells, tripping over himself while struggling to pull on his socks. “Shit, shit, shit.” He throws on some pants and grabs the first shirt he sees, just hoping they somewhat match. Mike catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror: his limbs lanky, hair in desperate need of a trim, and brown eyes accompanied by dark circles that clash against his pale skin. He sighs, grabs his backpack off the chair, and whips open his door.
Mike all but tumbles down the stairs in his frenzy, feet skipping steps as he uses the banister to practically catapult himself the rest of the way. “Okay, should be on time—just a few seconds to spare—oh shit—”
“Ow—fuck!” Will looks up at Mike, a hand covering his forehead where Mike had essentially slammed their heads together. Mike mirrors his actions, bringing a hand to his own head with a groan. “What the hell, Mike!” Will yells, more annoyed than angry.
“Sorry! Sorry, I just—” Mike straightens out next to him, still rubbing his forehead. “I was—or am—I’m running late, so…”
“Yeah,” Will huffs a laugh. “I can see that.”
Mike leans in slightly and inspects his forehead. “Did I, uh… did I hurt you?” Will moves his hand away, watching as Mike begins to reach up, his fingers almost brushing his cheek. He starts to reply, “Uhm—”
“Boys, let’s GO” his mother yells from the kitchen, causing both boys to jump and look toward the sound.
“Shit—right. C’mon,” Mike says, turning back to look at Will, who looks a bit flushed. Crap, maybe I hit him too hard…
Will nods in return. “Yeah.”
They rush through the kitchen, weaving past Jonathan and Nancy, grabbing a quick piece of toast and thanking their mother as they hurry out the front door. Holly is already waiting by her bike, looking visibly annoyed and throwing her arms up in question.
“What took so long? If I’m late again, Mom’s going to have to talk to the school!”
Will looks toward Mike as they get onto their bikes. “Your brother decided to viciously attack me.” He shakes his head, holding back a laugh as Holly whips around to glare at Mike.
“What? No, I didn’t! And—I said I was sorry!” Mike scoffs, offended.
They continue pedaling, trying their best to make up for lost time. Mike turns up the volume on their radio and lets Robin’s voice fill the morning air.
“Good morning, Hawkins! It’s your favorite host, The Rockin’ Robin, here to bring you the grooviest tunes to start your day! Now, let’s get into our morning updates. Last Thursday, Hawkins High baseball—”
Mike tunes out the rest, eyes forward. He’s been spacing out more lately, having difficulty concentrating in class or whenever the party gets together for a crawl. Most of the time he feels normal, but here and there, he gets these feelings—feelings of guilt, of darkness. He doesn’t even know what from exactly. El? Maybe, but their breakup was completely mutual. Whatever it is, these feelings are becoming stronger and more frequent. Mike sighs, trying to focus on whatever it is Robin’s saying.
Holly eventually veers off toward the elementary school, yelling something about how if she gets detention, she’ll make them both pay. Once Mike and Will arrive at school, they lock up their bikes and hurry inside.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Will notes as they walk through the halls.
“What? Oh—yeah, just tired.” Mike pauses. “Didn’t sleep well, y’know.”
Will looks at him for a moment, his expression unreadable, then nods. “Yeah. I know.”
As they put their bags away in their lockers, Mike notices how the white metal makes the color in Will’s eyes look even more vibrant. Maybe he should tell him. Will likes painting—maybe it would relate to that “color theory” thing he’s always talking about. No, that’s stupid, he thinks, shoving his bag away.
“Whoa, someone looks on edge.”
Mike turns at Lucas’ voice to see him and Dustin approaching. “Rough morning?” Dustin adds.
Mike narrows his eyebrows. “I’m not on edge.”
“I think someone bumped their head,” Will jokes, shooting him a playful look.
Mike’s cheeks dust pink as his lips press into a thin line. “Shut up.”
Dustin and Lucas exchange questioning looks, but Mike just shakes his head. “I’m just tired. Slept wrong.”
The party nods in understanding, but Mike can feel Will’s eyes on him, searching for more. He refuses to meet his gaze and instead grabs his books for first period. “I’ll see you at lunch. Mrs. Worn will chew my head off if I’m late.”
They say their goodbyes, and Mike gives them one last small smile and wave before heading to class, already ready to put his head down and fall asleep.
12:13 PM
Mike is the second to arrive at their usual lunch table, sitting across from Lucas and setting down the radio. “When are you going today?” he asks quietly. It’s always a difficult subject between them—given that they have no idea what the outcome might be. All they can do is hope.
Lucas looks up. “Around four. Some of the nurses go on break then, so it’s quieter.”
Mike nods. “I have a feeling we’re going to get him soon. And—and maybe then she’ll wake up. She’s still in there, you know that better than anyone.”
Lucas stays silent, but the moment is broken when Dustin drops his tray onto the table, followed by an exasperated-looking Will taking the seat beside Mike. Mike raises an eyebrow at him, but Will just shakes his head.
“It’s all a bunch of bullshit!” Dustin snaps.
“Uh—what would that be?” Mike asks.
“I talked to Mr. Barker about starting the AV club back up, but he said the school doesn’t have the funding. Says they ‘need it for sports because that’s what the majority of students want.’ It makes no sense!”
The other three share a look. Ever since Eddie, just about anything could set Dustin off. It’s as if he’s angry at the world.
“Maybe if we convince him we could find used parts on our own, he’d reconsider,” Will suggests.
“Yeah,” Lucas adds, “that way we wouldn’t have to rely on the school’s budget.”
Dustin bites his cheek. “I just don’t get why we can’t take some from sports.”
Mike sighs. “C’mon, Dustin. People are already mad enough about Hellfire and everything,” he says carefully. “If we’re the reason the sports budget gets cut, we’ll just draw more attention to ourselves. We have to lay low, remember?”
Dustin looks down at his tray, taking a long breath. Before he can respond, Robin’s voice cuts through the radio.
“All right, Hawkins! This next song is one of my favorites—if you couldn’t tell. And with all this spooky Halloween energy, I think it’s time we turn Hawkins Upside Down.”
“Well,” Lucas says, glancing around the table, “looks like we’ve got another crawl.”