𝐏𝐂𝐄𝟐𝟑𝟓

WILLIAM  ‘BILLY’  HARGROVE:    an absolute dumpster fire,  mean as a rattlesnake,  traumatized asf,  working on it.

abandoned by his mother as a child,  left to be raised   (  and abused  )   by his piece of shit father.    aggressive natured but once warm-hearted and kind;  he cares deeply for his step-sister but horribly resents her for the family dynamic that developed following susan and neil’s marriage.    the move from san diego to hawkins only exacerbated this,  straining their relationship more and more with each passing day.    big ‘ole bully.    works out like a maniac.    rock,  heavy metal,  and steve harrington enthusiast.

the duffer brothers can eat my ass.    I WILL NOT BE INCORPORATING RACISM,  whether through the narrative or written dialogue,  on this blog.    MY CHARACTERIZATION OF BILLY HARGROVE HAS REJECTED THESE BELIEFS AND IDEALS DESPITE NEIL HARGROVE’S HEAVY INFLUENCE,  therefore all implications of racism will be fully retconned here.

     “   big bad metalhead.  total blasphemer.  we’re going out to the woods later so we can perform a satanic blood sacrifice.   ”

     “   seriously?  like you weren’t  literally  just giving me the stink eye?   ”

     “   yeah,  about that — henderson,  he like totally freaked ‘cause his mom’s  cat  got out and the  last  time she lost a cat,  he found it,  like,  all dead and torn up ‘n stuff,  but — anyway,  yeah,  turned out the furry little dipshit was just hiding under a car,  so.  mystery solved.   ”

     Arguing with his  step-sister  always left a rot in his mouth,  a bad taste that almost never went away.  Everyone that crossed his path  after  that wished they’d hadn’t––even Billy wished the same most days––because Max Mayfield had a terrible habit of  burrowing under his skin like a sharp thorn.  

     His throat feels hot,  words like spiced cider sliding down into the pit of his stomach.  What he  wants  is to be vicious with them,  to be cruel.  The times he isn’t are few and far between.

     “    What’d you just say?    ”

     Billy looks at her and watches as her expression changes,  hardens,  like she’s bracing for impact.  Maybe she was.  Max always knew before he did.  She always knew the kind of mood he was in before he even opened his mouth,  and if he’d really stopped to think about it,  Billy probably would have noticed it.

     The way they’re not so different.  The way she stands there rigid,  trying not to breathe hard when his steps draw slowly near.

     The way she looks so much like him while looking nothing at all similar.

     “   —  sorry i’m late?   ”

     [ two can play this game ]

     “   hey,  c’mon,  we both messed up.  big time.   ”   and it occurs to him that maybe having a tense,  weighty discussion about their   feelings  when the guilt makes it feel like they’re breathing through plastic wrap is possibly not the best call he’s ever made.  maybe not today.  billy  is  apologizing,  is the thing;  he doesn’t need to say it out loud for it to be obvious.  steve moves a little closer.   “   nothin’ we can do to change it now,  right?  it’s done,  man.  and we’re — you know,  we’re still here.  so let’s just,  uh.  let’s just run with that,  alright?   ”

     “   i’m  going  to the movies.  besides,  i thought your idea of a date was like,  copping a feel in some shitty parking lot.   ”   she remembers san diego.  the parade of girls he’d shit-talk with his scuzzy friends later.  but this isn’t san diego,  and the parade of girls stopped after he started  hanging out  with steve harrington.  max watches him for a beat with folded arms and rolls her eyes again.   “   god,  you’re such a dick.  can we just go?  please?   ”

      “    ––  yeah.     ”

      His tone is as short and clipped as his patience.  Not with Munson,  but with  Hawkins  as a whole.  

      Billy missed California more and more every goddamn day.  It felt like  a sickness  inside him,  like some kind of  viral infection  attacking every cell in his body––except there was no remedy,  no cure,  nothing he could do to feel well again.  He breathes in smoke,  exhales a plume that drifts out around him like a shield of armor protecting him from this place.

      His gaze finally drags from the mass of students gathered in the parking lot to level with Eddie’s.

     “   gargoyle,  as opposed to what?  the fifth member of a flock of seagulls?   ”   sorry,  steve;  it’s for a good cause.  she rolls her eyes,  but she curbs her tongue.   “   —  just to the hawk.  they’re doing some stupid  friday the 13th  marathon and they’re gonna end it with the new one.  and  i know,  jason’s a momma’s boy.  whatever.   ”   at least she and the  gargoyle  go out in the daylight.

     “   yeah,  i mean,  we  both  are,  ‘cause that night was just  —   ”   a strong contender for the worst night of his entire life,  and it’s not all on billy.   “   honestly,  i don’t even know where to start.  and  yeah,  i know,  i’m the one who wanted to talk in the first place,  so this is a total dick move right now,  and i  ——  jesus,  i don’t know,  alright?  i’m sorry.  for,  you know.  for all of it.  for keepin’ you in the dark like that.  that shit might’ve never happened if i’d just told you the goddamn truth,  so.  i’m sorry.   ”