July 10th 1992

It had been six years since Steve had defeated Vecna once and for all. Well, technically it was Eleven who did the bulk of the work, but Steve was present when the pint-sized superhero blasted Vecna into a million pieces, stopping the scourge of Hawkins—and the world—once and for all. With the curse seemingly lifted from the town, life went on.

The gang had moved on, too. Eddie was the first to leave Hawkins. True to his word, he snatched his diploma out of Principle Higgins's hand, flipped him off, ran out of town with his guitar and never looked back. Robin graduated summa cum laude a year later. After studying languages in Indianapolis, she came back to Hawkins to be a tutor and had been Steve's roommate ever since. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and El left school the year after that. They all went on to college, got their dream jobs, and lived happily ever after.

While everyone else moved on to bigger and better things, Steve…well, Steve had always marched to the beat of his own drum, and that drum was wildly out of tune and timing from the rest of the world. Steve Harrington, formerly the most popular boy at Hawkins High, teen heartthrob with hair that Farrah Fawcett would envy, graduated (without distinction) the same day as Eddie. But Steve didn't go to college. He didn't even leave Hawkins. What Steve was currently doing—what he had been doing almost daily for the last six years—was to pace back and forth through the food court at the local Crossroads Mall, trying to decide what he should have for lunch. Did he want a Hot Sam pretzel or a slice of pizza from Sbarro? It was one of many life or death choices that Steve had confronted in his life, and one that he now faced on a daily basis since he became the security guard at said mall.

After the last mall burnt down, the town was quick to build another one. The facilities at Crossroads weren't as good as Starcourt, but at least there weren't any Russians hiding in a top-secret facility in the basement (Steve knew because he had checked). The biggest thing that Steve had to worry about these days was what he was going to have for lunch and dealing with the occasional shoplifter.

After agonizing for a couple more minutes, Steve decided to buy a pretzel since it was cheaper than the pizza. He sat on one of the metal benches placed a few feet from the entrance to RadioShack, watching Wheel of Fortune on one of the many TVs that they had displayed in their storefront. He couldn't hear it over the music blaring through the mall PA system ( Ninja Rap was currently being played for the third time that day). Steve glanced at his watch—he had ten more minutes until his break was over. He had just enough time to visit an old friend.

It was a short walk from RadioShack to The Games Workshop. When he entered the store, he found Mike Wheeler sitting behind the counter, his nose buried in a chemistry book, while a couple of geeky-looking kids browsed the many figurines that adorned the walls. Steve marched straight up to Mike and rapped his knuckles on the counter to get the younger man's attention.

"Wheeler." Mike jumped in surprise and nearly dropped his book at Steve's abrupt greeting. "I see you're keeping your nose to the grindstone."

Mike snorted. "This is busy for a weekday. But you should come by on the weekend, that's when we run our campaigns. The place is always packed then."

"Yeah? I'll be sure to give this place a wide berth on those days."

Mike sighed and closed his book. "What d'you want?"

"It's Henderson's birthday tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know," Mike bristled. "I've been friends with him for a lot longer than you."

Steve shrugged. "So what? He's my best friend. Quality over quantity, Wheeler."

"What's your point?"

"Well, he's coming home this weekend and I still gotta find him a present," Steve said as he casually waved his hand at the store. "Just point at something you know he'd be into and I'll get that for him."

Mike crossed his arms. "If you're his best friend, why would you need my help getting him a present?"

"Because you're into all the same nerdy crap as him," said Steve, ignoring the indignant expression on Mike's face. "Come on, man. Do me a solid. Just tell me what Henderson would like." He dangled the Hot Sam wrapper in front of Mike. "I'll split my pretzel with you."

Mike shook his head in disbelief and rose to his feet. "Keep the pretzel. Come on, I'll show you what he'd like."

A few minutes later, Steve was strutting out of the shop with a new paint set and a deck of combat cards. He waved goodbye to Mike, stowed the gifts into his locker and resumed his brain-numbing shift. After patrolling the mall a couple of times, he sat back down on the bench in front of RadioShack and settled in to watch the news. Steve watched local anchor, Brenda Wood, as her lips moved silently, with no clue of what she was reporting on. The 5WIYZ logo above her right shoulder faded and a picture appeared. Steve's stomach did a full-blown somersault when Eddie Munson's face appeared on screen.

Leaping to his feet, he approached the biggest TV—an impressive 27 inches—in the hopes of hearing what the report was about. A montage of Eddie in middle school with his buzzcut faded into view only to vanish seconds later and be replaced with one of Eddie sporting his signature shoulder-length, shaggy mullet. Steve entered the store, hurried over to the nearest television and cranked up the volume.

"...will be playing with his band, the colorfully named Corroded Coffin, at the Hoosier Dome in Indianapolis in their upcoming North American tour. Munson—a Hawkins native—said that he cannot wait to play for his home crowd."

Steve snorted. He knew no love was lost between Eddie and the people in this town. A plucky salesman with a pencil-thin mustache stepped up to Steve with a big smile plastered across his face.

"That's one of our best selling television sets," he said in his jovial salesman's voice. "You know, the antenna is half-price if you buy today—"

"Shh! I'm trying to hear what they're saying," said Steve impatiently.

"Okey-dokey artichokey!" said the salesman brightly. He pointed at his laminated name tag. "My name's Bill. I'll be right over here if you need anything."

"Uh huh," said Steve distractedly.

As Bill the Salesman took a few steps back, the picture of Eddie changed to a video of him exiting a nightclub, his arm thrown casually around the shoulders of Courtney Love. The flashes of cameras from the paparazzi mobbing the pair were like a dazzling fireworks display as several people shouted their names. One of the reporters stuck their large microphone under Eddie's nose.

"Eddie! Darren Hesler, 5WIYZ Local," he said in a rush. "Are the rumors about you dating Madonna true?"

Eddie and Courtney shared a knowing look and laughed.

"Nah, me and M are just good friends," he replied.

Eddie tried to sidle past the reporter but Darren Hesler was persistent. He thrust the microphone into Eddie's face again, and Eddie's playful smile faded.

"Eddie! You've been a vocal critic of the Bush administration and the ongoing Gulf War. If the president is watching right now, what would you like to say to him?"

At first, it looked like Eddie wasn't going to answer, but then he grabbed the microphone from the reporter and addressed the camera.

"Sure, I have a few choice words for the president," he sneered. "Hey, Bush! I gotta hand it to you, you make Richard Ramirez look like a—bleep—amateur with the numbers you're racking up over there. Thousands dead, millions displaced, you're doing a bang-up job, Mr President! Tell you what, how about you climb down from your ivory tower, hop on a plane and go see first-hand the damage you and your cronies on Capitol Hill have done? But before you go, why don't you get on your knees and suck my—"

Steve had a good idea of what Eddie was asking the president to suck, but the news bleeped out Eddie's minute-long tirade. When Eddie was done, he flipped off the camera and pushed past the reporter. Courtney Love blew the camera a kiss and told Bush to suck her 'bleep' too before chasing after Eddie.

"You know," said Bill, who had suddenly reappeared by Steve's side. "If you buy today, I can throw in a two-year warranty free of charge."

The news had moved on to a different story. Steve declined Bill's persistent offers and exited the shop, his thoughts dominated by Eddie Munson. He slumped back into his usual bench and thought back to the last time they had seen each other. Graduation had been held a week after Vecna's vanquishing, a testament to how quickly life moved on from life-altering, global near-catastrophes. Eddie was still pretty banged up from his fight with the demobats in The Upside Down, but he had insisted that he walk on that stage to receive his diploma. He had hobbled up the steps on his crutches, ignoring the chorus of boos that followed him from the locals who still believed that he was the serial killer and cult leader that had been tormenting their small town, and not one of the few heroes who had fought to save it. Eddie didn't seem to have minded, though. He limped right up to Principal Higgins, shook his hand and held his diploma above his head, victorious, before tossing his crutches aside and throwing devil horns at the incessant onlookers, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face the whole time.

Despite himself, Steve had been impressed with Eddie's display of defiance. Hawkins had treated that kid like crap his whole life, but he never let it bring him down. Ever. He just kept being Eddie. It was in that moment that Steve understood why Dustin admired Eddie so much, and if he could turn green with envy right there and then, he would have.

Eddie had left town not long after. The next time Steve heard anything about him, Eddie and his band were headlining the Glastonbury Festival. In a few short years, Corroded Coffin had gone from playing gigs in dive bars to being the biggest rock band on the planet. If Steve thought he had felt envy on graduation day, it was nothing compared to seeing photographs of Eddie headbanging on the main stage in front of thousands of adoring fans.

And now it seemed that the prodigal son was returning. Maybe not to Hawkins (nobody could blame him if he steered clear of the town) but in a few short weeks, he'd only be a couple counties away, rocking it out in Indianapolis. Steve had well and truly lost his crown. Long live King Eddie.

Steve was pulled from his miserable reverie when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a group of kids, no older than thirteen, hanging around the entrance to Montgomery Ward. They had their heads together, whispering conspiratorially as they scanned the mall with the look of a bunch of kids who were up to no good. Steve had worked as a security guard long enough to know shoplifters a mile off. He pretended to be focused on the RadioShack storefront while keeping an eye on them. When they entered the store, Steve rose to his feet and walked briskly towards the entrance. He was just approaching the entrance when he heard one of the clerks inside yell angrily for someone to stop. A moment later, the kids reappeared, sprinting out of the store and splitting off in all directions, arms full of stolen goods. Unfortunately, Steve couldn't split himself into six, so he grabbed the arm of one of the stragglers, a petite blonde with mall bangs, and what looked like two sweaters stuffed haphazardly down her top.

"Get off of me, you pig!" screamed the kid, trying and failing to wrench herself free from Steve's grasp.

"Not until you return what you've stolen," Steve countered. He was just about to escort her back into the store to apologize when he finally looked into the furious girl's face and realized, to his horror, that he recognized her. "Holly?"

Holly Wheeler stilled. She looked up at Steve with a defiant expression. "What?"

"What're you doing stealing clothes?" he demanded. "In fact, what are you doing in the mall on a Tuesday afternoon? You should be in school, young lady!"

"You're not the boss of me!" she cried before stomping down hard on Steve's foot.

Steve yelped in pain and momentarily slackened his grip on Holly's arm, but it was long enough for the youngest Wheeler to wriggle free. She bolted for the exit as fast as her skinny legs would carry her. Steve limped after her only a few paces before giving up.

"I'm gonna tell your sister!" he yelled lamely after her.

Steve hobbled back to his designated spot in front of RadioShack and collapsed onto the bench. He couldn't believe it. He always remembered Holly being such a sweet kid. Now she was acting like…well, a lot like Steve and his friends when he was that age. Steve looked at his wristwatch and sighed. Only five hours left 'til his shift ended.

Robin was already curled up on the sofa reading a magazine when Steve returned home from work.

"Hey," she said without looking up. "Dinner's in the fridge."

Steve dumped his bags by the front door and made a beeline for the kitchenette. Opening the fridge, he saw a Surfer Boy pizza box on the middle shelf. Checking the contents, he found a half-eaten pepperoni pizza inside.

"Did you make it yourself?" he teased, retrieving the box and flopping down on the sofa next to her.

"From scratch," she joked. "It was a tough day at work, I couldn't face cooking when I got home."

"I know the feeling," he muttered before stuffing half a cold slice into his mouth.

"Aren't you going to heat it up?"

"Too hungry," Steve mumbled. He glanced at the magazine Robin was reading and choked when he saw Eddie Munson on the cover. "What the hell?"

"What?" Robin glanced at the front cover of her copy of Rolling Stone magazine and grinned. "Oh yeah! I saw it on my way to work this morning. Eddie's really moved up in the world, huh?"

"I hadn't noticed," Steve grumbled, taking an aggressive bite from his pizza. "Why are you even reading that? You don't like rock music."

"Because our friend is on the cover, duh."

"He's not my friend."

"We saved the world together, I think that makes us all life-long friends," she argued.

"Whatever," said Steve dismissively, trying very hard not to look at the cover of the magazine. In an effort to change the subject, he asked, "Did I tell you that Henderson's coming to town this weekend?"

"Only about a dozen times," she said through a smirk. "Which reminds me, Dustin called about an hour ago. He asked me to tell you to call him back. He said it was a code red, or something."

Steve's stomach dropped. "A Code Red?"

Robin yelped in surprise as Steve clambered over the sofa as though it had suddenly burst into flames.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Steve grabbed the telephone receiver and stabbed Dustin's phone number onto the keypad with his index finger. "Henderson tells you there's a Code Red and you don't tell me the second that I get home?"

"How am I supposed to know what a Code Red is?"

"What do you think a Code Red means?" he fumed.

"I dunno! He sounded fine when I spoke to him."

Steve shook his head in disbelief at Robin's blasé attitude in the face of impending doom. As the phone rang in his ear, his mind was racing through all of the potentially disastrous situations that Dustin was about to break to him. Did they have another demogorgon on their hands? Was it the Mind Flayer? Surely, Vecna wasn't back, Eleven killed him. Still, his stomach twisted at the thought of having to face off against Vecna slash Henry slash One again. There was an audible click as the phone connected.

"Henderson residence," came Dustin's breezy voice.

"Henderson!" Steve practically shouted down the receiver. "It's Steve. Robin said we had a Code Red. What's going on?"

"Hey, man!" Dustin greeted him brightly. "I was just about to try and call you again. How's things?"

"Uh, things are pretty stressful right now considering you called and said we had a Code Red on our hands! How do you think I'm doing?"

"Yeah, about that…technically, it is a Code Red, but it's a good Code Red."

Steve blinked. "A good Code Red?"

"Yup."

"Is that a thing?"

"It is now," Dustin chuckled. "I've got good news!"

Steve closed his eyes and exhaled, feelings of relief mingled with annoyance. "You can't just throw a Code Red around like that, man. I thought we had a real emergency!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out," said Dustin sincerely. "But I had to call you as soon as it happened."

"What happened?"

"It's me and Alberta," said Dustin happily. "We're getting married!"