August 24th, 1985

The car engine sputtered when Lorraine turned the key, shutting it off. She placed her hands on the wheel, squeezing tight. It's been too long since she's been here. It's like she stepped of back to summer 1983, before the mall burned down, before the crazy shit that usually happens around here started to get even more crazy. She sighed, it really never changes, does it? They say small towns are quiet and relaxed. Suburbia's finest. Most people never realize that it's the complete opposite, living in a city for two years really puts that into perspective.

She opened the car door and stood there, looking at the door of the trailer home. It was a scary moment, she hadn't spoken to her father since the day she left. Other than a letter every now and then, she wouldn't call. She couldn't muster the feeling of another disappointing fate in this family's history. Only did she hear his voice when she called last week.

"Hi Dad..", she softly said, almost in tears. Lorraine clutched the cord, wrapping it around her fingers and leaning on the wall. The feeling of defeat could be heard over the silence. Her father wasn't a bad man, but just like her, he couldn't express his feelings as well as he wanted.

Lorraine couldn't afford the city anymore. Between weekends at the bar and the couple of failed attempts of publishers and newspapers turning her stories down, she had only what she could carry in a gym bag. She wanted to avoid this moment as long as she could, couch surfing or sleeping at the venue when she could. It came to a point where she couldn't take it anymore and, as much as it pained her to come back, there she was.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that she was already at the door, hand on the door handle. She sucked in a breath of hot, stangit summer air, and pushed down. Inside the trailer home, a smell of humidity filled her nostrils. She could see the silhouette of her father sitting in the armchair to the right of her. Placed directly in front of the television. You could hear the buzz of the speakers crackling, a faint noise of the newscaster spouting out the continuous investigation of the devastating fire in Hawkin's Mall.

He turned only slightly, nodding and mumbling a hello to Lorry. He stood up slowly, facing Lorraine. She looked at the man, almost a stranger, who had more gray hair than she remembered. The wrinkles around his bushy eyebrows, the faint smell of pipe tobacco making its way towards her. He had a solid frame, although his limbs seemed to hang like twigs. He slowly started to shuffle to the kitchen area where Lorraine stood motionless. He stretched out his hand towards her. Hesitant at first, she took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze and showing her a small smile.

"Well, I set up the couch to your liking. I got a small TV in the bedroom, so I shouldn't be in your hair too much." He said, gesturing to the couch planted against the wall, next to the television.

"I uh…" He trailed off, looking around the small trailer as if he had forgotten how to speak to his own daughter. "Well, Monday and Tuesday I have double shifts at the shipping unit, and…" he looked at his shoes and started tapping them, leaning his hands on his hips. "Oh, yeah, there's cold beer in the fridge most days, if you finish them you buy a new pack."

"Uh, thanks… Dad". Lorraine struggled to say the last part, a warm welcome indeed.

"Okay, well, I'm off to work. I'll see you around.", he said, grabbing the hat that hung on the coat rack. He planted it on his head, turning to give a small wave, and left the trailer home.

Lorraine swung the gym bag onto the couch, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She pulled her hair into a short ponytail, looking around the room. It was literally how she remembered, yellow patterned wallpaper that peeled at the corners, deep red carpet, the smell of pipe tobacco and a faint hint of witch-hazel perfume, her mother's. And there she stood, once again alone in the smallest, most asphyxiating place in the world.

She heard a door slam shut from outside of her new, or old, home. She looked through the window, just through the slit of the curtains. There he was. Eddie Munson as if she really did step into a time-machine. She would have never thought that he would still live in the same place. Eddie opened the door to the van parked just outside his trailer, started the engine but didn't drive off immediately. He lingered there, Lorraine feeling the need to step back as if she needed to hide. She held her breath, did she recognize her car? Probably not, it's been too long. As soon as the thought left her mind, Eddie pulled away from the trailer, music blasting through the windows and echoing through the woods until you could no longer hear anything but the cicadas buzzing.

Welcome back, Lorraine.

Driving back from the Hellfire Club weekly session, Eddie was in silence. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and another hanging out the car window, a cigarette delicately floating between his fingers. He rubbed his fingers against his own, rhythmically clanking his rings together. He couldn't believe that she was back, without a word. It's been a few weeks since he had seen her at the venue, flashes of her expression changing instantly and her cold demeanor…

He adjusted himself in the seat, taking a last drag from his cigarette before flicking it out of the window. He held the wheel with both hands, determined to return home as soon as possible. His brows furrowed, he felt so much anger, betrayal.

"You fucking leave," he mocked to himself, waving his head side to side. "Don't say shit to me, nah, why the hell would you do that?" He scoffed. Absolutely ridiculous, he thought, as he turned into the trailer park. He huffed to himself once more, whilst parking just to the side of his trailer. Yanking the keys from the engine. He softly continued the mock as he stepped out of the van, slamming the door behind him.

"Still talking to yourself I see," Lorraine's voice echoed across from him. He lifted up his head to see her sitting there, on an old green and white striped lawn chair. The golden light of the sunset is just peaking through the branches and resting on her soft skin. Her hair was in a ponytail, but stray hairs lingered around her neck and ears. She raised her hand, grinning like the cheshire cat, ordering him to come over. All he was feeling washed away in an instant. His heart lifted, and so did he, standing up straighter as he walked straight to her.

"I am my best company, I must say!" He chuckled. Eddie sat on the grass just in front of her, squinting a bit to look up at her. "How did you spend your evening, then?"

Lorraine lifted a flask in one hand, a joint in the other. She took a hit of the joint and let the smoke gently crawl out of her lips and lift into the summer air. Bending down just a bit, she offered him either option.

"Pick your poison."

Eddie smirked, lifting an eyebrow, surprised at her attitude. She wasn't the girl who would smoke, drink or do drugs. From experience, he knew the city made it easier to fall into those crowds, but he couldn't imagine her in those crowds. He grabbed a hold of the joint, bringing it to his lips and gently taking a long hit, imitating the same motion Lorraine had previously done. He handed it back to her, with a nod of gratitude.

"Didn't know you smoked, the city really did change you, huh?" He said, placing his hands on the grass behind him and leaning back into a comfortable position. The breeze entering his t-shirt through his ripped sleeves, blowing his hair into his face softly.

"Well, I mean…" She gestured drunkenly, sluggish, raising her arms and shrugged her shoulders. The faint noise of the radio by her side playing a song that he sort of recognized, but couldn't put his finger on. "I'm back, aren't I? Means that I wasn't cut out of the city life, after all." She laughed, but this time, it didn't seem genuine. Was it the alcohol he could smell from where he was sitting? Was it the weed? Or, he thought, maybe she had something else as well…

She suddenly raised her arms, her shirt rising just a bit to see her upper stomach, a birthmark on her left side. Eddie tried not to stare, but every moment absolutely drenched him in awe. "Then you went away! Leaving me with the memories we made!" Lorraine sang with the radio, and even though she was absolutely plastered, Eddie's heart beat faster. He hadn't heard her sing in such a long time, he had forgotten how sweet and soft her voice was. Like a soft touch on his chest, a small detail that meant the world to him.

He furrowed his brows, feeling an instant sense of dread. She's drinking, day drinking, smoking and listening to one of their favorite songs. He remembered the night that he began to play Stairway to Heaven in his room. Lorraine started to sing this song. He was delightfully surprised, and enjoyed the, quite different rendition of the original song. He swallowed, he heard his own muscles contract so loud in his ears, he was afraid she had caught on.

"Memories of those sweet yesterdays, spent with you…" Her voice went to a hush, a whisper. Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know, he needed an explanation.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" He spattered, almost violently, bringing his arms to his knees and leaning his chin on top. He didn't break eye contact, he knew that this was hard for her, but he needed to know.

Lorraine was again paralyzed, but because of the lovely mix she had in her system, slowly went into a soft chuckle. Her head waved slowly from one side to another.

"Because, Eddie" she started laughing. He brushed hair out of his face, nervously twirling the ends between his fingers. "You're the one person I can't say bye to."