Joe Keery Imagines

What Matters-Joe Keery

Ever since Joe started working on Stranger Things, I feel like I've lost a part of him. With each season, he changed and I lost him even more. A few years ago, when Joe moved to LA, he invited me to move with him. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life. What I did know was that I didn't want to live in a different state than my best friend, so I moved with him.

While he started shooting Stranger Things, I worked at a coffee shop. While he played the teenage heartthrob Steve Harrington, I made coffee for 6 hours a day. It wouldn't have been as bad if I saw Joe more.

His filming schedule got crazier throughout the seasons and he came home later. It got to the point where I never saw him during the day. He was too busy to call him or to meet him for lunch. In the last month, I've only seen him maybe five times during the day.

I came home from another horrible day on my feet to an empty apartment. I made dinner for just myself and ate it while I watched a random reality show. This was my nightly routine.

My heart jumped into my throat when the door opened. I turned around, instantly smiling when I saw Joe walking in.

"You're home!" I gasped as I quickly stood up. Joe laughed as I ran over and jumped into his arms.

"Y/N," he said in a sing-songy voice. "Did you have some after-work cocktails?"

"What?" I laughed as I pulled out of his embrace. "No, I haven't been drinking. I just. . . I miss you. I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."

"We live together," he laughed as he walked past me.

"Doesn't mean we see each other every day," I mumbled. I cleared my throat before following Joe.

"Do you have any leftovers?" He called from the kitchen. "I'm starving."

"In the fridge," I sighed as I sat on the couch.

As he warmed up some food, I continued watching my show. Throughout the night, Joe acted like things were normal and as much as I tried, I couldn't. He was on his phone, laughing at his Stranger Things group text chain. I looked over at him and gathered as much courage as I could to tell him something I've been thinking about doing for weeks.

"Joe, I've been thinking about moving back home."

I held my breath and waited for his response. Instead of saying anything, he laughed at the most recent text. That night, I finally decided; I was going to move away from him.

* * * * *

About a week later, I had sent most of my things home and boughten a plane ticket. Today, I was finally moving back home. I left my room, pulling my suitcase behind me. I haven't had the chance to sit down and tell Joe again that I was leaving. He's back to coming home after midnight. I couldn't help but wonder how long it would take him to notice that I was gone.

"Y/N?"

My heart jumped into my throat when I looked up to see Joe putting his keys in the bowl by the door. I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to find my voice.

"Are you going somewhere?" He asked.

"Home," I blurted out.

"Oh," he smiled. "Like for the weekend?"

"No," I said slowly. "Like permanently."

"What?" He stuttered.

"I told you the other week," I mumbled. "I quit my job and am moving home until I figure out what to do with my life."