Chapter Text
“So? What does it say, honey?”
Mike looks at his mom’s expectant face and then back down at the letter he’s holding. His hands are trembling and despite the chilly weather of early spring, the dining room feels stuffy.
This is it. This is the answer to his future.
Well, it’s not like Mike didn’t apply to any other colleges. He’s not stupid, at least not as much as Max would have you believe. So, he did apply to several. But ESU has been his primary choice. They have a decent literature program, Mike argued when he first told his parents. And Nancy is in New York anyway, so he wouldn’t be alone.
Will lives in New York.
He might never have said that, but he somehow felt like he didn’t have to.
It was a given.
Ever since Will Byers moved away, following the events of November 1983, Mike’s life had never been the same.
The party was great. It grew bigger and closer than ever. But Will, a constant presence in his life, became a distant voice on a once-in-a-month phone call. If those happened at all, Mike thinks bitterly.
So, after Nancy moved to New York to become a journalist (and to follow Jonathan), Mike took his chances.
And now, the answer to the question “What’s next” is sitting in his cold, sweaty palms. Outside, a car starts, coughing up from the exhaust. The clock on the wall ticks away. For the past years, he wished time would hurry up.
Hurry up through middle school.
Hurry through never-ending summers and too little too short phone calls.
Through every picture with Will Byers missing from it.
Hurry to this very moment.
Now he wishes it would stop. Because he might not like what comes next.
“Mike, open it. It won’t change the outcome.,” his mom encourages him.
So, Mike opens it, tearing at the glue. His throat feels dry. He quickly scans the black print and swallows.
He reads the first sentence once.
Twice.
Blinks.
Just to make sure it’s really there, unmistakable.
“I got in.”
It feels as surreal to say as it has been to read it.
His mom shrieks and pulls him in a tight hug. Mike registers how proud she is of him, and that he’ll do great, and all the other mom-like things to say, but there’s only one thing on his mind.
New York.
And Will. So okay, two things, but those are connected.
“Oh, we have to call Nancy. She can help you set up the dorm. You should call Will, too, didn’t he get to ESU as well?” his mom starts listing things as if he will move tomorrow.
Mike just nods, his mind racing faster than his mom’s words, yet one thought coming up again and again.
He got in.
And he knows Will did, too. He heard it from Nancy. Or maybe Jonathan. It was more likely for Will not to pick up the phone, so Mike got used to hearing about Will from someone else.
Once, a guy named Harry had picked up the phone.
"Will's not home yet.”
Mike remembers being annoyed more than anything. He'd waited all week to call.
He eventually learned about Will getting accepted into ESU the same way he learned a lot of things these days: from somebody else.
Not that he didn’t expect it.
Someone as talented as Will was bound to get in wherever he wanted.
And he wanted ESU – on the special occasions they got to talk, Will went on and on about the campus art studio, about the art professors, about the library. Even about a coffee shop nearby.
Since when did Will drink coffee anyway?
And Mike always listened.
He soaked up those tiny pieces of Will’s life like a sponge.
And that’s why he applied without Will knowing.
And that’s also why he isn’t about to tell him now.
“I didn’t tell him, and Nancy and Jonathan shouldn’t either.”
That earns him a confused eyebrow raise from his mom.
“Honey, why not?”
Mike just grins to reassure his mom.
Or maybe to reassure himself.
Because what if Will’s time flowed differently? What if his life hasn't kept Mike's spot reserved?
He doesn’t want to go there.
“It’s a surprise!”
“A surprise? What are you, stupid?” Max asks incredulously over the plate of whatever the Hawkins high cafeteria decided to call lunch.
Mike shrugs, but groans internally.
Max made him go there.
“You haven’t seen each other in 6 years, and you just plan to show up like that? You’ll give him a heart attack!”
Lucas chuckles and Max glares at him, apparently having expected more support from her boyfriend.
He clears his throat. “Max, you have never met Will, and it shows. He’s going to be super happy. They were like…joined at the hip. Siamese twins.”
Mike feels his ears grow hot, but before he can say something, Dustin joins the conversation.
“Lucas is right. There is no way Will won’t just jump Mik- “
Mike kicks him under the table. The traitor. Dustin yelps but Max seems unfazed.
“I get it, but there’s no way he didn’t make other friends. Ones that were actually, you know, there.” she points out and Mike feels the familiar doubt creep in.
“So? He can have more friends. But none can take Mike’s place, trust me.”
Again, Mike doesn't particularly like how Dustin worded that, but the reassurance settles warmly in his chest.
He was Will's first friend.
“How would you know? Maybe he got a girlfriend.” Max counters, and Mike’s confidence deflates a bit. Not because he wouldn’t want Will to…find love or whatever.
But if Will had a girlfriend, he would've told him.
Right?
That's the kind of thing best friends tell each other.
Mike swallows as he looks down on his soggy fries, his appetite gone with the wind. Maybe keeping his New York move a secret wasn’t the best idea.
Maybe Will could pick him up at the station.
Maybe they could room together.
Maybe Will needs a warning.
“Oh, come on, Wheeler. I was joking. I’m sure Will is going to be thrilled to see you, and you will do all your nerd shit together every day…”
He’s not sure if Max noticed his sour mood and wanted to cheer him up, or she just enjoys making fun of him.
Probably the latter.
And that might be why Mike spends five minutes too long staring at the landline in the basement. It’s late and he spent the evening not doing anything particularly but trying to imagine himself as a New Yorker.
Wearing all black.
Riding the subway.
People watching with Will and complaining about the tourists. Which sounds like fun, he must admit. Hawkins never gets any tourists besides occasional lost soul who wandered there by mistake.
“This is stupid.” he says to no one. The phone doesn’t argue.
It would be so easy. Just pick it up and dial the Byers.’ Tell Will he’s coming. Make plans together. Calm that incessant uneasiness in his stomach (which might just be the cafeteria lunch).
He bites his lip and picks up the phone, putting in the familiar number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Nance."
"Mike."
"How did you know?"
"Mom called. Congratulations on ESU."
Mike can tell his sister means it. She hated Hawkins and as far as he can tell, she loves New York.
“Thanks…” he trails off. Nancy sighs.
“So, this isn’t about ESU then. Is it about Will?”
Mike doesn’t know how to answer. It is about Will, but he can’t just vent to his sister. What was he thinking, calling her?
“Right. Listen, I kind of understand why you want to keep it a secret- “
“A surprise!” he corrects her because there’s a difference.
“A surprise,” she repeats, “but you can tell Will. He’ll be so happy to have you here. Harry, too, probably. Poor guy has heard a lot about you.”
“Harry?”
The name sounded familiar. Some friend from New York, probably.
Mike couldn't remember anything about him beyond that.
“His roommate.”
And that makes sense.
Will lives in New York.
Of course he doesn’t stay in a dorm.
Of course he has a roommate.
Six years in New York come with people Mike doesn’t know.
Roommate Harry is just one of them. The one who occasionally picks up the phone.
Looking back, he can't even remember what Harry sounded like.
“Just don’t tell him, okay?”
He hears Nancy sigh dramatically.
“Alright. So, when are you coming?”
“Around August 20th.”
“Okay, I will pick you up at the station and get you settled in the dorm. Just let me know the time when you know, okay?”
“Okay, thanks, Nance. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mike.”
He puts down the phone and plops on the old creaky couch. August 20th is four months away.
Just four months left in Hawkins. Mike chuckles to himself, staring at the ceiling. He suddenly feels very excited.
Because what has once been an eternity longer than life is now just four months.
Four months until New York.
Four months until Will.
Mike hasn’t started packing yet. He realizes that as he turns another page in the calendar.
August 15th. He leaves in less than a week and his room still carries all of his high school personality. He hasn’t packed a single sock, successfully dodging all the prying questions from his mom and his friends.
He can be quick when he wants to, thank you very much.
Still, with a few days left, he must admit it’s starting to look like a daunting task. And he did everything to avoid it for reasons he doesn’t care to think about.
He even tried calling Will. The phone rang twice before Mike doubled down on the surprise (Max would say chickened out) and hung up.
So now, with the summer almost over, the sweltering heat slowly dying out, and the continuous nagging from everyone around him, he has nothing left to do but pack.
He sighs as he opens the suitcase his mom brought to his room few days ago in an attempt to get him started.
Only Mike realizes he doesn’t know where to start. What does he even need for college? He gathers some of his generic clothing and almost throws it in the suitcase. That would do. Underwear, too. What else?
There’s a lot of slightly-worn-but-not-dirty-enough summer clothes strewn around, books piled up in one corner, walls covered with the posters. He wants the posters, he decides.
He manages to take them down without tearing them successfully, but as he’s bending down to pick up the tack before he steps on it, he notices a box under his bed.
Well, a box and a bunch of trash, he thinks to himself as he reaches for it.
The box is dusty and quite heavy, and he settles down on the floor comfortably before he opens it.
Middle school.
That’s what comes to his mind when he sees his old workbooks and assignments. He digs through the box, reminiscing of the better times in Hawkins, when he finds what he deep down expected to be there.
The photo.
He pulls it out and looks at it properly, for the first time in years. Why did he even put it away? Maybe it felt ridiculous to have a picture of kids in his bedroom. Now, it feels ridiculous to ever have felt that way.
He studies the kids. Dustin, Lucas, himself, and Will. They all look so young and so happy, having just won some competition Mike can barely recall. But he remembers the moment.
He also remembers what came shortly after.
November 1983.
Will disappearing into the Upside Down.
And yes, they got him back, well... El got him back. But at what cost?
Mike traces the happy smiles in the photo with his sweaty fingers. Will came back, but only to move away and leave this be the last photo of the party all together.
And Mike gets it.
He blamed Joyce once, angry, and resentful for taking his best friend away. He remembers crying and pleading with her to stay, or to take him with them. In retrospect, his more mature self sees that Will has gone through hell and getting him away was the best Joyce could do for her son.
But he remembers feeling like his world had ended.
And in some sense, it had, he realizes, with the way he was counting away the years until he could join him there. Leaving Hawkins was always part of it, but he stopped lying to himself a long time ago.
He studies Will’s smiling face. How much has he changed? What does he look like now?
There might have been phone calls, though less and less often, but they haven’t seen each other. Why haven’t they, he wonders.
It’s not like they hadn’t tried. But every time they made plans, something went wrong.
Will was sick.
There was a snowstorm.
Mike had to visit nana.
Will cancelled because of school.
Nancy had a fight with Jonathan.
Always something.
But they had the letters, Mike now realizes, as he goes through the box and finds a stack tied with a fraying rubber band. The letters have his oily fingerprints imprinted on them.
He takes one out and unfolds it. Will complains about schoolwork but also talks fondly about his art teacher. He’s sad that the school trip to Niagara Falls got cancelled. Mike fondly reads the loopy letters and then he spots it.
Harry’s dad promised he would take us, it says.
Harry?
The name gets stuck on Mike’s tongue. Nancy had definitely mentioned him before. Mike just can't remember when.
Oh.
Harry the roommate.
He looks back at the letter, the name accusingly sitting on the page. He looks at the date. May 1985. How long has Will known this Harry?
Curiosity gets the best out of him, and he goes through more letters.
We went to see the Empire Strikes Back rerun with Harry and Jon.
Everyone suddenly started drinking coffee, even Harry, but it’s disgusting.
He frowns and picks up another letter.
I got detention last week. Harry called the new biology teacher incompetent and she heard him. I might have laughed though.
And another.
Harry says I should go for the art school, but the DnD theme…
And another.
I had the best pizza ever the other day. Me and Harry…
And another.
Harry. Harry. Harry.
Mike runs his hand through the unruly black hair and thinks back to when Nancy mentioned Harry so casually. Like she expected Mike to know who he was.
Maybe he should have known him.
Because Will certainly told him all about Harry.
Harry who goes to the movies with Will.
Harry who drinks disgusting coffee.
Harry who gets Will into detention.
Harry who encourages Will to pursue art.
Harry who happened to pick up the phone at the Byers house.
Harry who has been there, showing up, in every letter Will has sent.
Mike packs the letters back, his mind still stuck on that name.
Harry.
Harry who has been there for the past six years.
And somehow Mike never noticed.
In the end, the photo ends up safely tucked between his t-shirts and the letters back in that box under his bed. He finishes the packing successfully; he cleans the room and makes it what his mom would call “presentable.”
He doesn’t think about the letters as he prepares to leave Hawkins behind. Or at least not as much.
He also doesn’t mention Harry to the Party as they say their goodbyes – well, to Max and Lucas, anyway, with Dustin already having left the week before.
He manages to not think about Will and his roommate, Harry, on the drive to the airport, but that is probably because of the nerves. His mom smiles at him.
“It’ll be fine. You’ll take the train from the airport and Nancy will pick you up at the station.”
He just nods and looks in the side mirror, watching Hawkins become smaller and smaller. Not gone, but not quite home either.