Mona let out a low, raspy chuckle, keeping a steady, firm grip on Conrad’s arm. Even with all that solid muscle, he was currently swaying like a knocked-over lamppost. "Extra pretty girls, huh? Careful, big guy. Keep sweet-talkin’ me and I might start thinkin’ you got a death wish after all." She gave him a quick once-over, her sharp eyes catching the way his face had gone bright pink beneath the fresh blood and boyish charm. It was cute. The kind of cute that made her feel a little too aware of the fact that it was stupid o’clock in the morning and she was out here in her leather jacket and smudged eyeliner like some kind of night creature. "Hold that bandana tight, yeah?" Mona nodded toward her beat-up van parked half on the curb a little ways down the street. She knew for a fact there was a half-decent first-aid kit shoved under the passenger seat. "C’mon, my ride’s right there. I got actual gauze and antiseptic that doesn’t smell like old gym socks. Unless, of course, you wanna keep playing tough guy and risk that pretty face scarin’ the cheerleaders." Her tone was pure tease, but a real edge of concern sharpened underneath it.

You'll never leave. You'll grow old here and wither. You'll die before you reach 30. You'll live to be just like him. You'll be alone. You'll never be alone. You're doomed if you do nothing. Conrad groaned, pulling a pillow over his head to try and block out the whispers. He knew better- they weren't able to be blocked out so easily. Less like flies buzzing next to his head and more like bees buzzing inside his skull. Wings brushing his cortexes and making it spark in a way that was so utterly wrong it made him shudder with each word said. Or well, it used to. After months of dealing with it, it had grown more annoying than anything. Something just consistent enough that Conrad never took a good night's sleep for granted, and never went to bed with the assumption he'd get said good night's rest. And tonight, it was very clear he wouldn't be getting any rest at all. Throwing his pillow aside, Conrad raked his fingers through his hair, damp with sweat. Ugh, gross. He looked towards his shower, then at the darkness outside his window. The clock on his bedside table said it was a little after 4 AM. Seemed his night was just about shot. Getting up from his bed, Conrad pulled on his red zip up hoodie and a pair of jeans with the knees torn out. Sliding on his well-loved adidas and snatching Doorene's keys and his wallet from the drawer of his bedside table, Conrad opened his bedroom window and slipped out silently into the early morning. There was something embarrassing about still needing to sneak out at 19, even after he graduated. Like he was scared his dad would hear him and do something about him leaving. Wouldn't he though? The air was crisp and cold for now, and it sent clean-feeling shivers down Conrad's back as he walked. He glanced over at Doorene, thinking about getting in before deciding against it. He'd run instead. That'd be a better way to get the energy out. Which led him to now, running running hard and fast down the roads of Hawkins like a bat out of hell. Or maybe like a quarterback chasing a last minute goal, either one worked well enough. He would try and get to the park, maybe have time to sit at a picnic table and get a good view of the sunrise before it started crawling with other people. Conrad prided himself on being a social guy but he just couldn't deal with it. Not today. Not after what those fucking voices said to hi- His musings were cut short as his foot caught a hole in the road, sending him flying forward. Instinctively, he moved to protect his face from the fall...but something was holding him back. What the fu-? Conrad had no real time to ponder what had caused him to lock up, as the blackness of the road met his face read on. Stars exploded behind his eyes, the pain muting him as his forehead collided with the rough pavement, breaking the skin and quickly drawing blood from the tall man's head. For a moment, Conrad remained in place on the ground, dazed and not wanting to acknowledge the pain that seemed to spark with every movement he made after. But, with a groan of defeat, he pushed himself up with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tight before opening them to see the ground. Drip...Drip... His blood fell onto the black tar, the color lost in the low light and looking just as dark as the road beneath it. "Today is gonna be a fan-fucking-tastic one." he groaned, before seeming to realize someone else was there. Looking up at the new arrival, dark brown eyes shifted in real time from agitation to a dry amusement, as he held his hand out. "Wanna help me up? C'mon, I think it's fair, since you got to see me eat it on the ground. And for free, too!"

Mona had snuck out the back window of Dustin’s place again, escaping the lumpy couch that smelled like stale Cheetos and younger cousin chaos. Leather jacket draped loose over her shoulders, she leaned against the old oak on the corner, taking a slow drag out of her cigarette. The night was too quiet. Unnaturally so. Like the town itself was waiting for something ugly to happen. Then came the frantic footsteps. Some tall guy running down the road like the devil was on his heels. Mona stayed half-hidden in the shadows, watching with a raised eyebrow. Not her problem… until he ate shit spectacularly, foot catching a pothole and sending him crashing face-first into the asphalt. The wet smack made her wince. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him: blood was already dripping dark onto the road. After a moment, she flicked the cigarette aside, boots crunching gravel as she stepped into the faint streetlight.

Connie laughed. "Obviously, trying to numb living in this shithole," Connie covered her face.

Connie sat in the empty lot, smoking. She could've gone anywhere else, but Hawkin's was small. And she wasn't smoking any old cigarette. She was smoking a joint, and she was pretty sure that was illegal in the state of Indiana. And even if Hopper knew her well enough, he'd still arrest her. Which sucked. Just then, Connie caught sight of someone staring at her. She sighed. "Please don't tell the police,"

"What did that tree do to you?" Carolina asked, having heard her last statement, which could have only been directed at the bright cherry blossom tree. She was fond of the soft pink petals, but she didn't expect everyone to be a fan. However, she also didn't expect someone to sound like they had a personal grudge against this part of nature. "Did a cat get lost in it?"

"Worse," Mona rasped. "It’s got no chill, it’s trying too hard." She shifted her weight, leaning her shoulder back against the library brick, and gestured vaguely at the riot of pink with two fingers. "No cat. Just a fundamental philosophical disagreement. It’s a distraction," she said, a small, cynical smirk playing on her lips. "You look at the pretty petals and you forget that in three weeks, they’ll all be brown mush on the sidewalk and we’ll still be stuck in Hawkins." She tilted her head, catching a glimpse of Carolina's expression, and her gaze softened just a fraction. "But hey, if you like it, don't let me ruin the magic. I’m just the local gargoyle keeping the optimism levels in check. Someone’s gotta remind the greenery that it’s living in a horror movie setting, right?"

Eddie forgot how to exist the second the door opened. He’d been pacing like a lunatic for ten minutes, rehearsing jokes, trying to decide if he should redo his hair, then undoing it, then redoing it again. But none of that prepared him for Mona leaning in the doorway like she’d been carved out of trouble and eyeliner. When she said wow, his brain just… stopped. Full system shutdown. Blue screen of death. “M’not... I mean... you...” He cleared his throat, trying to salvage the sentence. “Hi.” Real smooth. Then her fingers were on his collar, cool rings brushing his jaw, and Eddie swore he felt every nerve in his body light up like someone plugged him into an amp. He didn’t even breathe when she rose onto her toes, palm warm over his heart, and kissed him. Soft, lingering, right at the corner of his mouth. He made a sound. A tiny, helpless one. He prayed she didn’t hear it.

Mona’s smirk deepened the second she heard that tiny helpless sound he made when she kissed him. God, he was cute when he short-circuited. When Eddie stepped closer and told her she looked unreal, voice all low and wrecked like that, something warm twisted low in her stomach. Slowly, she let her fingers slide into his offered hand, lacing them together without hesitation. She gave his palm a little squeeze, thumb brushing over his knuckles as she tugged him gently toward the van. Eddie's hand was warm, and that slight shake in his grip made her heart do a slow roll in her chest. "I can and I will, Munson. Consider it a hazard of the trade," she said, her voice dropping into that velvety rasp as she stepped off the porch and onto the driveway. Of course she caught the way his hand hovered near her waist and, with a subtle shift, she leaned into him just enough to close the gap as they walked toward the van. "And trust me, unreal is exactly what I was going for. I figured if I’m going to be seen with you in public, I should at least look like I can handle whatever chaos you drag me into."

date night || mona & eddie

Debbie laughed at Mona's comment about the former King of Hawkin's high, who, while changed enormously from their high school days, seemed to have kept his extravagant hair habits. "Well. Connie has been in an unrequited relationship with him for a few months now. I guess love is blinding her, though I think her brother uses similar products," Her cheeks flushed. "Oh, really? I can come in late. Not many people enjoy reading, and I'm not opening today. But as long as it doesn't bother you, of course," she said nervously, twirling her hair.

"Love is a powerful hallucinogen, especially when combined with hairspray fumes," Mona said, letting out an amused huff. "But hey, if she can look at Harrington and see a soulmate instead of a sentient pile of hair gel, more power to her." As Debbie’s cheeks flushed pink, Mona felt a sudden surge of genuine warmth for the girl. She reached out and gently caught the strand of hair Debbie had been frantically twirling between her fingers. Holding the lock for a second, her eyes softened. "Pretty," she murmured, a sincere smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Stop it!” Lucas laughed, swatting playfully at Mona because she was seriously making him very embarassed. He had no idea how to deal with the way she kept showering him with compliments. He was obviously both super flustered and kind of flattered at the same time. “That’s not romantic…” he insisted again anyway, pressing the back of his hand to one of his burning cheeks. “It’s just the truth. But honestly it’s not even about, like, romantic stuff for me… I don’t think that’s really the important part! It’s just about her. As a person!” And Lucas really hoped Max had gotten that by now. He just wanted her back, no matter what form that took. He also knew Mona was right and that all he could do now was wait and see where things would go with him and Max. Hearing Mona say it all so clearly again was reassuring. Lucas was already so relieved that Max had woken up and that she was doing at least somewhat okay. But after talking to Mona he somehow felt even more relieved, if that was even possible.

Mona burst out laughing, dodging his swat with an exaggerated lean back. "Knight in shining armor? Bold claim, Sinclair." She winked. "But fine, I’ll lay off the romantic talk. For now.” She saw the way he pressed his hand to his burning cheek, flustered and proud all at once, and something warm settled in her chest. God, he’s a good kid. The kind who’d walk through hell for the people he loved and then blush about it after. It made her want to protect him with everything she had. "About her as a person," she agreed, nodding seriously. "That’s the best kind. And trust me, she knows. Girls know." She tapped his nose twice with her finger. "You’re doing it right. Just keep showing up. The rest sorts itself." His beaming pride when he talked about telling Max about her? That hit different. Mona felt her throat tighten just a little with affection and silent gratitude. It was that rare feeling of belonging she hadn’t expected to find in a nowhere town like this. "You’re gonna make me blush," she teased, but her smile was genuine. "Important person? Me? Careful, or I’ll start thinking you actually like having me around."

☏ ring, ring... connecting to @mona-henderson

Will listened intently while Mona described the man she kept seeing outside of her window. Any random man lurking outside of your house would be creepy, but there was true fear in Mona’s voice as she described him. He hoped that the information would be useful, but honestly he had no idea if he’d be able to come up with any leads to help her. At the very least, hopefully it might make her feel a little better to get it all out talking to another person. The fear probably wouldn’t leave her, but hopefully a burden shared could be a burden halved. Well, maybe halved was a bit generous, but maybe it could be slightly reduced. He nodded, flipping to a new page in his sketchbook and writing down the details as she spoke. He didn’t know if she’d be able to give him enough of a description to ask around and see if it rang a bell for anyone else, but the least he could do was try.

Watching Will write down the details made it feel more real, and strangely, less like a haunting and more like a case. Mona caught the way he ducked his head at her compliment, that shy smile reminding her why she’d felt safe enough to spill her guts to him in the first place. But when he mentioned being the "town freak," her expression hardened into something fiercely protective. "Let them think whatever they want, Will," she said, her voice dropping into a low rasp. "Small-minded people need small boxes to put us in so they don't have to admit the world is bigger and scarier than their backyard. If you're the freak, then I'm the circus, and I’m perfectly fine with that."