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heartbreak at the arcade
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. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧
Alina made her way to the Palace Arcade to look for Lucas, still pedaling hard. Her calves burned, but as usual, she didn't mind. Her heart thudded hard in her chest, and in her head, she repeated her old mantra. Breathe, Alina. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. It made her feel a little better. A little more normal. A little more like there wasn't a shadow monster that had taken root inside her housemate. But everything had changed, yet again. Last year it had been the discovery of Eleven, the Demogorgon, and the powers sparking at her palms. This year it was somehow worse.
At the arcade, Alina dismounted her bike, suddenly reluctant to go inside. A million thoughts whirled through her mind, and her panic grew, but that was when Alina realized she had to go inside. Not just for Will, but because she had to face her fears. That was her whole thing, wasn't it? After Brandon and Eleven's death? And so Alina forced herself to open the door and walk inside.
As usual, the arcade was packed, the air heavy with the smell of pretzels and the sound of whirring machines, little sad jingles playing as games were ended, the boy or girl standing at them letting out a scream of frustration as the screen went black. Alina wove her way through the crowds of people, thinking she'd try looking at the Dig Dug machine, but when she arrived, she found there was a piece of paper plastered to the screen.
Out of Order.
Shit. Alina was just about to check Dragon's Lair instead when the sound of munching met her ears. "Yeah, that one's out of order," a voice said, and Alina turned around to meet the eyes of Keith, who was, as usual, eating his beloved Cheeto Puffs. As she watched, Keith popped another one into his mouth, smearing his lips with the orange dust. He crunched loudly "Sorry."
"I don't want to play," said Alina. "I'm looking for someone. Do you know where Lucas is?"
Keith let out a scoff. "You expect me to remember all the names of your friends?" he said incredulously, fishing another of his favorite snack out of the bag. "Psh. You're going to have to be more specific."
