I've recently published the first chapter of a byler fic I've just started called 'roses in your eyes' it's very different and i hope you all enjoy it. Thank you so much for all your lovely support and 20k reads, if I'm honest I never expected this to even get 1k, love you all so much.
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Mike
Mike rolled his eyes. His attitude towards his sister may have been a little exaggerated and unnecessary but at that moment he wasn't in the mood for 'her shit', though he really knew she was just looking out for him.
"Mike, this is serious! You got into a fight. This is bad, okay? If mom finds out you know it'll all go tits up so-"
"What, exactly, will go tits up Nancy? So what? I was looking out for a friend! Big deal!"
She hesitated, looking carefully towards Mikes bedroom door, which was closed and locked- she had made sure of that.
Nancy shifted nervously on her feet, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was now Friday after school, nothing new had happened and Will hadn't attended school for the past few days, not had his older brother (not like Mike had found out enough about Will to know his family tree though). Mikes sister had relentlessly tried to bring up the subject of what had happened on Wednesday to her brother, but had failed up until then.
"What?" Mike sighed, raising his eyebrows.
"It's just... I don't know, Mike,"
"If you have something to say, just say it, okay? Dustin and Lucas are coming to start a campaign in 20 minuets!"
Nancy looked to the door again, though she knew no one could get in, and stepped closer to Mike.
"Do you... like him?" She whispered, not breaking eye contact.
Mikes breath hitched.
"I-wait what?" He stumbled.
She shushed him, even though their parents were down the stairs.
"Like... you know, like Will?" She didn't break eye contact.
"No... no! Ew... gross! It's not like that." He managed to get out, feeling heat crawling up his neck.
"You're sure?" Nancy sounded genuinely concerned.
"Yes, Nancy. I've only know him for 4ish days! And besides, I'm not..."
"Gay."
He gulped.
"No, no I am not."
"You could like both though." His sister pointed out.
Mike looked horrified. "W-what?"
"Girls and boys."
"Nancy, stop. Just stop talking, please?" Mike felt as if her were about to be sick right there and then.
Nancy looked at his brother intently, as if searching for an answer in his face. She sighed, giving up. "Okay, okay. I won't tell mom or dad so don't worry. It'll be our little secret." She grinned, a slight hint of malice. Mike cringed as his sister walked out the door- after unlocking it of course.
What
The
Hell
He began rubbing his knuckles, they weren't as red as before but were still noticeably bruised. Secret? There wasn't any secret. Mike was an open book, nothing to hide, absolutely nothing. Deciding not to think into the sudden outburst of his sisters questioning of his sexuality, Mike closed his door and sat on his bed.
Today had been a shit show. Today had been weird.
•
Sometimes, Mike liked to imagine himself older. Not too old, like his father. Old as in old enough to drive, maybe even drink. Mike had only ever sat in the passenger seat of a car, the closest he's been to the wheel. He'd drank once though, he Lucas and Dustin had managed to get a hold of some cheep cans of beer that were stocked in his fathers wardrobe, long forgotten and covered in thick layers of dust. Little did they know, until one bottle had been consumed between them in the woods opposite the quarry, that the stuff had gone off years ago. Mike suffered stomach pains that night, sleeping a full 4 hours and then earning himself a late mark and detention from his French teacher.
The skies outside were dark, the future shadows of a storm present in their grasps, a pale sunset was visible above the horizon. Mike suddenly felt a violent wave of suffocating claustrophobia wash over him, he needed to get outside. Mike wanted to put some space between him and the world for a little while, and his room was not the place. Deciding the front door was not the place to waltz out of at this time of the evening, Mike quickly ran down the stairs through the hall and through the backdoor, successfully avoiding his family the whole way.
He had placed his beloved bike up against the wall of his house, forgetting to put it in the garage in the haze if his heavy thoughts. He now thanks himself for doing so.
Mike seated himself upon he bike and cycled away, away from his house, away in the woods, the glow of the sinking sun painting his pale cheeks and freckles that danced lightly upon them.
•••
This was a bad idea. A really bad one. Mike stood among what appeared to be an eternal array of thick tall pine trees, drenched to the bone in water, shaking so hard you would think he'd just seen a dead man crawl from the very ground below him. Yet he wasn't (completely) shaking out of fear, it was the cold, the cold that seemed as if it would sink down into your arteries and remain there forever, slowly killing you with its puncturing iciness. The storm had arrived before he had time to find his way back to a familiar route and begin his journey home, leaving him lost and confused, with no leads to help him, his only option was to wonder like a fool until he found a way to return to the warm sheltered safety if his bedroom and sleep (presuming his mother had not noticed his missing self). He dragged his bike behind him, the mud coating the tires causing them to slip hazardously. The handle bars were clasped tightly between long white fingers, numbed and shrivelled in the constant downpour, Mike couldn't feel them, just as he couldn't feel the majority of his body.
Suddenly, the bikes handled had slipped from his fingers, so suddenly he couldn't even comprehend what was happening until the bike was a foot in front of him, rolling down the shallow, wet slope of thick mud and deteriorated leaves.
"Shit!" He cried out, running recklessly after it as it continued down the slope, leaving him far behind.
Without thinking, Mike ran down at full speed, sending his feet to loose all control, causing him to go headfirst down, midair. Dustin would make a joke at this, telling him his hero complex of helping people was now getting way out of hand that he'd literally become Clark Kent, adopting the ability to fly for himself.
And then the flying had stopped. Mike lay face first, caked in mood, leaves and drenched in water, with an undeniable pain in his left ankle.
Slowly, he pushed himself from his stomach, limbs shaking in the process, wincing at the pain he felt from the fall. His bike lay a few meters away from him, the chain hanging loosely from its place and handle bars going all the wrong directions.
He sat himself right, wet hair sticking to his forehead, rain drops clinging to his long eyelashes.
Looking from his bike to his busted ankle, Mike gave in. "Mother fucker! Why! Tell me, why? Are you fucking kidding me?!" He screamed at the sky, which was coated by a layer of dark clouds.
He couldn't hold it back, the tears started to fall, incoherent through the rain.
Mike didn't get it. His life was fine- perfect almost. And then in came Will Byers, and now he's lost.
He's completely fucking lost.
•••
Have any of you seen iw yet?
