~Billy~
In all my years, I had never seen Neil Hargrove panic. Not once. So, the satisfaction I got from seeing panic in all its glory slowly seep into his face as I burst through the door unannounced was fucking beautiful. If I was leaving His shithole and turning up unexpectedly after being AWOL for 2 weeks, then I was doing it in style. Smoldering cigarette hanging out of my mouth, leather jacket on, mullet looking goddamn fantastic, the door opened up with a boom and bam, I was there staring right at him. He jumped so hard He nearly shat His pants. I walked through like the hurricane I was, nodding cordially at Susan whose jaw virtually fell off and leaned against the wooden stair rail. Jesus, the sight was seriously one to behold. The furious red spreading over His face was just perfect. Absolute perfection! But, that wasn't even the cherry on top. Nope, the cherry on top was when I told him outright I wasn't living with Him anymore.
"What do you mean you're not living with me anymore? Don't be absurd, William" He scoffed, rolling His eyes. Roll those beady eyes all you want, Dick.
I shoved a copy of the contract I'd signed for a small studio apartment in Hawkins earlier last week into His chest. Now, that was the cherry on top of a creamy ice cream sundae. The sprinkles were the way His voice faltered when the realization hit that I wasn't bullshitting him. This was no extravagant display of rebellion. The beautiful, bold words, 'I, William Hargrove, the Tenant…' caused His eyes to widen, His nostrils flared. This was real - I was leaving His house. Silently, He knew it would mean I'd never return and He would never run after me. I'd gone past the days of longing for His affection, wishing He'd chase after me as I ran in the other direction. Now, I was facing my own reality. It was either do or die. There was no way in hell I was giving myself up to the Bastard. Gone was the mindset He controlled me through His punches, His snarls and barks. I could simply walk and be free.
I'd let a stream of smoke leisurely drift out of my mouth and snatched it from Him before He could turn the page with the address details on. I tucked the contract back into my inside pocket and started to head to my room to pack. I had one cardboard box, that was all. Only two people, four now I'd told Him and Susan, knew about me coming back to Hawkins. Harrington was the first one I told. Shit, the guy basically nearly pissed his pants in some sort of celebration. He'd promised pizza and a few beers to celebrate on the first night back which I was looking forward to. The other person was Max. She'd been pretty pissed at me for leaving without so much as a goodbye in the first place which I understood. Thankfully, she agreed to help me clean the place up if I'd give her a slice of pizza and can of beer. I'd told her to fuck off originally, but I managed to at least bargain a slice of pizza and sip of beer to get the little shitbird involved. I'd rolled my eyes initially at her demands, but I couldn't resist smirking at her, which earned me a snappy rebuttal of, "The hell you smirking at, Billy? Start packing", and my face became her target practice for throwing clothes at. Ah, I really had missed my little shitbird.
Originally, I thought I wouldn't miss anyone from Hawkins. The frosty, who-gives-a-shit attitude wore off quick enough after Michael's confrontation. Putting on the mask had been so effortless to begin with, like putting on a T-shirt or brushing my teeth after a morning cigarette. It was part of the routine and always had been. But since coming to this hicktown, I'd removed it too many times for it to be consistent. My first night back was clear evidence of just how bad I'd gotten at putting on the ol' pretense. Harry and Michael had taken me to our usual haunts on a spree of booze, drugs and rough sex. In the space of half an hour at the first bar we'd hit, I'd gone from snorting coke off some blondes tits before fucking her brains out to a blubbering wreck in a bathroom stall covered in the residue of a messy night. Numbness had infiltrated my whole body during the entire experience. The mask usually relished such madness, such frivolity. However, the real Billy had emerged and lived in the real world for too many months at this point. The real Billy didn't want the chaos. He despised the bars, the coke, the girls he fucked. He despised himself. The real Billy wanted peace, wanted to go to Sierra's house and curl up next to her, wanted to chill by the bank of The Communion with Harrington and feel the lukewarm waters rush over his feet. I'd gone to California to find home and realized it was never truly there. Not even in the one person I'd thought embodied it all. She was in my life, but I was still wanting to keep an arm's length. I couldn't feel the pain of Her leaving again. I was trying not to run again. Home was whatever I made it, it was within me, so I could never run. It had taken me over 2000 miles of hitch-hiking and a fight with one of my closest friends to discover that home was never going to be far. The idea both comforted and terrified me. Home was great until it was set on fire. Let's hope I had an inner fire extinguisher. If I had to listen to one of Harrington's zen-wholesome-hippy-dippy shit again I was gonna throw myself off a goddamn cliff, so I really was fucking hoping.
And so, this all brought us to Apartment 2a above Melvald's General Store. Before I'd made my final exit with Max in tow, under the guise I was taking her to the arcade on my way, I chose to leave Him with a parting statement:
"Don't ever come near me again, Old Man" .
He'd snorted derisively at this, laughed it off. Hell, I wasn't even sure He gave a shit. But then, as He caught onto my lasting stare, there was something that twitched on His face. It was subtle and I'd only noticed it because it was the same twitch I saw the night He pushed Sierra over. Imperceptible to the naked eye, the twitch was not a physical one. It was something inside him, the cogs speeding up rapidly before slowing down. He'd lost control. So many nights, He had lost control, leaving me with bruises, cuts, bleeds. This was a different kind of control. The loss of control I'd witnessed wasn't one of power or rage. It was panic. There was something about the way He stared back at me that made me feel unafraid for once. Usually, under His glower, I'd freeze. Yet, I was ready to move. Instead of mulling over why He'd started to panic, I swiftly slammed the door behind me, feeling the rattle of the whole house beneath my boots, and got into the car. It wasn't until the house was long away in the distance that I realized the reason I didn't freeze was because I was finally free. For so long I'd lived in this constant haze of terror and anger, even when I was away because I knew it was always find a way back, and now, I didn't have to navigate my lost self anymore.
The place came with some furniture and I'd bought some posters. She'd given me money to buy. Other than the sparse items, I was completely starting from scratch. The safest description of the place was ordered chaos. But this ordered chaos was going to become my sanctuary, somewhere I could lay down some foundations and start anew. In a few footsteps, I could roll out of bed and make myself a sandwich, go for a piss and back again. It would only take one jump for me to land on the striped, cotton couch. Despite how dingy it was, I personally felt it had a lived-in feel. Munson had told me once when we got high last year that the place above Melvald's belonged to the guy who dealt him weed and some other pills. Safe to say, I was disappointed when I didn't find any leftovers for me as we cleaned the place up. Now that would've been a good housewarming present.
Max had chosen to stay the night and after Harrington had left, we sat barefoot on the floor in the darkness, the glow of the fuzzy TV playing reruns of the Tokyo wrestling match casting dimly over us. We were eating the leftovers of the pepperoni pizza Harrington had brought round. It was pretty good to see the guy again. He'd stayed for around 2 hours, filling me in on everything that had happened. Small stories of Pepsi winning an audition for the role of Girl No. 2 in some independent movie she was due to start shooting in September, Henderson getting a girlfriend, Henderson talking non-stop about his girlfriend, some bitchy little kid at Scoops Ahoy endlessly finding ways to get more free samples, and more Henderson, filled the silences where Harrington knew I was going to ask about Sierra. In the end, I didn't have to ask.
She was spending a lot of time with her Mom, her Grandpa was showing some good signs of living longer than a couple of months and was back home, and had published her first article. To my surprise, Sierra had gone ahead with writing about Starcourt and managed to make it a piece of unbiased journalism. According to Harrington, Nancy said Sierra had delicately placed it on the desk of her boss with him present, wordlessly watched as he'd read it and hesitantly approved to release it, spun on her heel with a sweet smile, and headed out to a party with Harrington and Pepsi. Toxic jealousy had drowned out some of his words. If I hadn't acted like a complete douche, I would have witnessed her make those Yuppy asswipes eat their shit and partied away with her. Things seemed to finally be going well for her. I didn't have to tell Harrington she was the main reason I'd come back. He'd figured it out by the way my eyebrows rose the one time she was mentioned, the stupor in my eyes the entire time he talked about her. I was still in love with her. I still wanted her back. My only fear was that I was too late. As Harrington briefly spoke, I found myself waiting on the edge anxiously for him to drop so much of a mention that she'd been with another guy. Realistically, I knew Harrington wouldn't betray her like that. I'd be a huge hypocrite if I got jealous. I'd been an absolute manwhore in Cali all so I could attempt to find comfort in another. If she'd done the same, I wouldn't judge her.
I bit into another slice of the pizza, chomping my way to the thing down a gooey string of cheese, and fixated my eyes on the wrestling, the loud cries of celebration from the crowds snapping me out of my thoughts. When the hell did I start doing this deep thinking shit? I blamed Harrington. Or Munson. It was either Harrington getting all soppy on me or Munson lacing most of the weed I'd smoked with… emotions? Fuck knows. But I was blaming one of them. Lioness Asuka had absolutely annihilated Dump Matsumoto in the final round. I let out a snort of laughter. Seeing two chicks fighting was always pretty entertaining. Max was ridiculously excited though, squealing every single time one of the birds was catapulted into the ropes. As one of the chicks was thrown violently to the ground with an essentially featherlike force, Max let out another one. In response, I released the groan I'd been suppressing for hours. I digged this feminism, women support women shit, but dear fucking Lord, that high pitch squeal was going to exist in my mind for years.
"I swear, shitbird, if you let out one more goddamn squeal - "
"Ugh, stop being such a woman hater, Billy" Max rolled her eyes dramatically with a groan.
"I literally said nothing about the women, Max" I droned.
"Hmm, you didn't have to, dickweed!"
"Hey, I'm all for women fighting - "
"Ha, I bet you are, perv" Max laughed.
"Well, if you really want to get into that conversation, then…" But before I could even so much as continue down this line of conversation, Max had her fingers in her ears and began chanting 'La, la, la' in her usual dramatic way. Good, because I seriously bluffing. Max really did not need to know the details. Hell, she heard them enough when we lived in San Diego and had a room adjacent to mine. "Shut the fuck up, Max, or I'm gonna take your last slice"
"You're such a gross pervert, Billy!" Max shouted, her fingers still in her ears.
With a heavy sigh, I picked up the last slice of pizza and began gorging on it.
"You asshole!" Max grabbed the crust I'd thrown back in and started battering me with it. "I hope you choke"
"I hope you shut up one day, but some wishes just don't come true" I tried to mumble through the insane amount of pizza in my mouth. When I finally swallowed, I liberated an earthquake of a belch, much to Max's disdain.
"You pig" she groaned and rolled her eyes again.
"I'm either a pig or a perv, Max. Take your pick" I said, reaching over to flick a leftover piece of pepperoni at her.
"It's the '80s, dickweed. Men can multitask now" Jesus, if there was one thing I seriously had grown to love with Max, it was how quick she could conjure a sassy comeback. I was glad we had this sort of relationship now where we could hurl the most obscene crap at each other and laugh it off afterwards.
"Ugh, I miss when women stayed in the kitchen" I cracked a smirk just as Max grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at my face.
"You know I would just give you food poisoning so you'd never say that again, right?" Genuinely, I had no doubt she'd legitimately do that. The little shitbird had no boundaries when it came to getting her own back.
"I'd make sure I'd shit on the floor for you to clean up" I threw my hands up in defence as she lunged for the pillow again. "All jokes aside, I would never let you cook for me, Max. You're crap at it"
"Says you!" Max retorted, giving me a sassy scoff. "You take one look at a button on an oven and suddenly your whole house is up in flames"
"Piss off, shitbird, I can just…" I stammered, wondering just how right she was. Shit, I was going to have to learn how to cook something other than cold food and smoothies. "Well, I can use a microwave"
"You don't have a microwave" Max nodded her head to the barren kitchen area. I literally had an oven, stove and a fridge. I was having to wash dishes in my fucking bathroom. "Good luck sneaking back home for leftovers"
"Yup, not happening. I'm not relying on Susan's cooking. Other than to pick you up at the end of the drive when Neil's gone to work, I'm not heading back inside that building" I was just going to have to learn.
"Oh wow, an independent man in the kitchen. Let me know when you start, I wanna see you panic" Max laughed and stuffed another crust in her mouth. Damn, the kid was hilariously ruthless.
But seriously, I didn't really know anyone who cooked. Harrington's mom just cooked him a load of meals before heading off for weeks on end, Pepsi was out pretty much every night and I couldn't exactly afford to join her at her fine dining places, I wasn't exactly close to Nancy Drew, and I was pretty certain Munson subsisted on edibles alone. We all relied on women to do all this shit for us - to keep us healthy, to ensure we never went hungry. But I had no grown women in my life to help me out. It was pretty embarrassing how us guys always go on about how strong and able we are to do anything, yet leave us alone for a whole night without guidance in the kitchen, and we would go starving. The only girl I knew who could cook well and who'd be willing to teach me was Sierra. I fucking loved the food she made. It wasn't exactly gourmet, but I never left her house hungry or wanting something else because I'd had a shit meal. She used to make this thing she always called 'old clothes'. It was a Cuban meal her mom had passed down to her when she was younger that was this mixture of shredded beef and vegetables. A fleeting smile emerged on my face when my mind fled back to when she'd first ever cooked it. I'd wandered in from being in the garden playing with Zack and almost having this cartoon-like moment of floating towards the smell of spices drifting out of the kitchen. I'd asked what she was cooking and with a casual shrug, she'd remarked, "Oh, just some old clothes!". I thought she'd gone fucking loco until she described to me it was called old clothes because it resembled rags on a plate. Doesn't sound particularly appetizing until you taste it. Like, holy shit, it was just so goddamn good. My mouth was watering from the thought of it alone. Then, all of the glowing nostalgia abandoned my memories, leaving me with this heavy feeling in the pits of my stomach where before I'd felt this buzzing warmth. I really fucking missed her.
"Hey, you okay?" Max suddenly chimed up. Sass and sarcasm were nowhere to be heard in her voice, concern replacing them.
"Yeah" I gruffly said, coughing slightly to kill the lump growing in my throat. I started picking up the pizza boxes so I could throw them into the trash. "All done?"
"Thinking about Sierra?" Max asked. "And well, there's nothing left, so yeah"
"Sarcastic little shit" I snorted, chuckling quietly as I shook my head. "But yeah, I am"
"You miss her?"
I nodded, casting my eyes to my feet. They were less tanned than my body from being in the water or buried in sand for the majority of my stay in California. The image of Sierra and I lounging on the beach in silence, just enjoying each other's company, flashed in my mind. Everything reminded me of her. Even when I was down there, I would see her everywhere, full well knowing she was far away from me. Far away physically, but she was living in my mind every second. I peered up to see Max still with me, eyes intent on ensuring I wasn't isolated in my own head anymore. She was a good kid, a good sister, and probably, despite my misgivings when I first met her, my closest friend. Who would have thought less than a year ago we'd be here? Talking in hushed, empathetic voices about heartache instead of filling the corridors with resentment and arguments. I liked it. I felt good to have her here to listen. Weirdly enough, despite ignoring half of my advice and orders or whatever you called them, she was a decent listener.
"What do you miss most?"
I let out a heavy exhale out of my nose and gently took the pillow laying in between us, cuddling it tightly to me. Where could I even begin? I missed knocking on her door and being welcomed by this incredible radiance she had. I missed focusing on the golden flecks in those gorgeous green eyes as we talked late into the night. I missed our morning coffee before taking Zack to school. I missed the 'old clothes'. I missed knowing she was there. I missed the lilt in her voice. I missed her reading a book with her head resting on my chest. I missed her warmth. I missed her.
"A lot" I murmured, refusing to look Max in the eye. If I looked at her, she'd see her reflection in the tears forming.
I missed everything.
Absolutely everything.
And I was so sure I'd completely lost it all for the rest of my life.
"I was such an ass to her" I sighed, my voice growing slightly nasally as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I shouldn't have expected her to go to California with me. I should've just fucking calmed down before I made any decision"
Without looking up, I waited for Max to respond. Her response was silence. It was the space to talk more.
"I was being an irrational bastard. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to get out and get away from Neil. I didn't want to lose her" I paused again to take a sip from the can of Diet Coke that had been sat next to me for close to three hours. I grimaced. It was flat as fuck. I thought Max would have spoken up by now. I pulled up my head and forced myself to look at her. She was stoic, still waiting. What was she waiting for? I'd already confessed I was a goddamn idiot. I twiddled with the can, rolling the lukewarm tin against my palms until I could feel sweat trickling from them. Even during that, Max was waiting. She wasn't budging an inch. "I just needed to leave that house. I was panicking. When we first started dating, I made a promise I wouldn't let anyone hurt her. I knew what her dad did the first time I'd seen them together. Then that night, Neil… he was meant to hit me. But she'd gotten down the stairs first and was coming to protect me. She didn't want him to hurt me. But in protecting me, I broke my promise to her. I thought, if we were away from Hawkins, there was no way he'd do that again. There'd be no way for her dad to hurt her again. We'd be away from everything that could hurt us" Breath hitched in my throat as the sound of the clock, a distant memory now, ricocheted in the tunnels of my mind. The shadow. The twin staring back at me. Will Byers. "We didn't get rid of all the monsters the night we killed the Demogorgon, Max. Neil was still here. Anthony was always going to come back. Death was going to hurt all of us and it came right for her Grandpa at the worst time. I just wanted to take us both away from it all. So when she said no, when she said she couldn't come to California, I guess… I guess, there was a part of me that was asking, 'I want to take you away from all this pain. Why can't you take me away from me too?'"
I paused again. Max was silent.
"I didn't consider how I wasn't the only one she wanted to protect from hurt. Since the beginning, Zack has been her priority. I've known that from the very start. In my head, I guess… I knew I wanted to just get away. I didn't need to leave to protect myself. By leaving, I've given her more pain. I was so goddamn shitty to her"
Echos of my voice, scratched by the rage and heartache, yelling at her to get out, flooded my head. I lowered my head, shaking my head in a useless attempt to get rid of the sound of my own voice torturing me. Get out, get out, get out! Leave, leave, leave! Run, run, run. My promise was shattered.
"I should've just stayed at her house and calmed down. I would have avoided all of this…" I gestured my hands in this circular motion, slapping the backs of my palms onto my lap again, a show of how sick and tired I was of the barks of my voice inside my mind from that night. "All this goddamn pain. I'm in so much fucking pain because I know she's all I want, because I know she's the only person I have actually loved and I'm fucking terrified I will never get her back"
A reflective silence surrounded us. Max reached over to take a sip of the Diet Coke.
"I was waiting for you to say that" she said.
"Yeah, there was a fucking lot of it to say" I snorted, my words laced with contempt. Not at her, just at me for being a fucking idiot. Shit, I was still being a goddamn idiot by speaking down to Max when she'd just sat listening to me chittering on for ages. "Sorry"
"It's fine. You're right, there was a lot to say. But I wasn't going to speak until you'd finally say how you felt" I arched a brow in bemusement and beckoned for her to explain. "To finally say you were in pain".
I nodded slowly, allowing the word to truly sink in, to penetrate into this thick skull of mine until I could possess it. I had been in pain all my life. The glow of a green light flooded my mind. The last time I had made the confession of my true feelings was with Max at the traffic lights. The night we'd nearly died at the hands, or claws you could say, of the demodogs. I'd never made a full admission of it since. But this was another pain. It was both the pain of recognizing my actions and the consequence of losing someone I deeply cared for.
"Do you think I can get her back?" I whispered, almost meekly.
"Have you got your job at the pool back?"
Once again, Max had managed to bewilder me. Regardless, I nodded.
"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked.
"What's with all the questions, Max?" I sighed and lightly chucked the pillow back onto the couch. I seriously needed to get a new one of those with my first paycheck.
"Are you working?" she repeated, this time with more urgency.
"Yeah, I am. Why?"
"Because Sierra's mom is throwing a party for Zack tomorrow" Shit, I'd forgotten Zack's birthday was around the corner. Suddenly, a beam of light dashed straight up my spine and I went from slouching like the depressed piece of shit I was to sitting upright and alert. "Sierra will be there. She doesn't know you're back. Harrington hasn't told anyone and promised me he wouldn't until you saw her first" Then, she added conspiratorially, "not even Henderson"
Jesus, now that did surprise me. That goofy bastard knew everything.
"So, Sierra will be there. Sierra's mom has invited literally every kid from Zack's class and Sierra invited the gang and me. Pepsi's coming back from summer camp tomorrow and she's managed to get Steve serving ice creams" I couldn't help but bust up laughing at the thought. Steve Harrington in a sailor's outfit just fucking creased me up. "Hey! Billy, be serious or you're not gonna get your true love's kiss or whatever bullshit you wanna call it" Max snapped.
"Shit, yeah, sorry" I cleared my throat and balanced myself on the floor again. "I'll see if she wants to talk to me"
"Oh, she'll want to talk to you alright" Max said suggestively, as if she had full knowledge this entire time. "Henderson told me that Harrington told him that Sierra has been non-stop asking him about how you are" So she did care about me still. Christ, the relief rushing across my body right now was indescribable. I started smiling like a little kid in a candy store and if I was correct, I could feel this pink seeping into my cheeks. "Don't be too pleased with yourself. She's also mad as hell you made her walk alone in the dark"
I could physically feel my face go ashen gray out of the shame I'd carried over this. Never once had I made a girl walk home alone, no matter how bad things had gotten. They could be screaming in my face and I'd still drive them home. I was weirdly chivalrous in this regard. I wondered, if I had walked Sierra home, whether I would have come to the same conclusion about California. As quick as I had asked the question, I'd answered it: no way in hell. I would've stayed put and discussed things further with her. We'd still be happy. We'd still be together.
"See how it goes" Max concluded and started collecting the pile of pizza boxes and styrofoam containers I'd discarded in favor of the pillow. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Billy. There was a lot of stress and you needed to think about what you wanted as well. You can't think about what Sierra wants all the time. But, you've figured stuff out now and I think she'll sort of get it"
"Thanks, shitbird" I chuckled and reached over to help her out.
"Anytime, dickweed" she said, smirking. I'd taught her well.
We went down to the trash cans outside. On our way down, we passed the guy who owned Melvald's. He was a balding man with wisps of silver hair poking up like hairs shocked by static and had a podgy belly sticking out, his hands resting on them comfortably as we spoke. He introduced himself as Donald and kindly said he could leave milk outside my door every couple of days, or if he was throwing anything out, he would offer me it first. I was still getting used to Hawkins hospitality. When I first moved here, it made me uncomfortable and I automatically rejected it. I was a lone wolf, someone who didn't need help. But, after several acts of kindness from various people, I was starting to open myself up to it, and even return it. Once the pizza boxes were thrown away, I told Max to head back up, that I was just staying out for a quick smoke. As I leaned against the rough brick wall, basking in the yellow light overheard, I soaked in the view of something I didn't think I'd ever be able to achieve. I'd become fairly accustomed to being alone these last few weeks. It was a loneliness heavy with this burden. The burden was me, this recklessness that seemed like an endless spiral. But, as I peered up at the window of the apartment, a golden light partially illuminating the old bricks, the isolation I'd burrowed deep into disappeared. In California, whilst I was constantly around people, I'd been alone. I could be dancing with girls, getting fucked up with the boys, railing other girls. Yet, the sensation of nothingness would suffocate me like a thick smoke until I'd pass out on my bed and wake up alone. Whereas, in this small shithole of an apartment, the smoke would dissipate and I could finally breathe again.
I'd found home.
Home was here.
And now, I wanted to share my home.
I wanted nothing more than to share it with the love of my life.
I was going to get Sierra back.