𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 !

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . 𝐁𝐄𝐕 "𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄" 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄!

[OLIVIA HOLT, CISWOMAN, SHE/HER] who’s that? oh it’s ELIZABETH “BEV” WILDFIRE. i hear they’re 22 and are known as THE NIGHTMARE around SKULL ROCK. they’re known to be AMBITIOUS, CONFIDENT and VINDICTIVE, MATERIALISTIC some people say they remind them of RIDING IN CARS WITH BOYS, COVERING TRACKS OF HEELS IN THE DIRT, RELIGIOUSLY APPLYING LIPGLOSS, “IM GONNA BE A BIG BIG FUCKING STAR”, AND SECOND CHANCES. they DO believe they died. [ro]

Who even remembered shit like that? Of course Bev did. Julie wore one pair of ill-fitting jeans once because she hadn’t had enough in her allowance that week to buy a cooler pair that her parents wouldn’t approve of, and Bev Wildfire would never let it go. “Okay, stalker. Stare at my ass much?” Julie countered with a roll of her eyes. Today had already been shit and she’d love nothing more than to go to Jack’s car and smoke the half of a joint she had tucked away in her pocket right now. Naturally, Bev wouldn’t let her get what she wanted, though. “That’s a great idea. The pool across town sounds like the perfect place for you to be.” Julie replied, matching Bev’s false sweetness as she tried to turn away and leave her behind. 

Naturally, Bev was too fast for that, though. Damn ex-middle school soccer player. As her hands came up to Julie’s shoulders, the brunette stilled. She opened her mouth to reply, to try to brush Bev off again, but then she was tucking Julie’s hair behind her ears, even closer than before and Julie was so tempted to grab her wrists to pull her hands away. “Fuck off. Don’t you have anything better to do? Some puppy to kick, or child you could steal candy from?” She asked with a weary look, immediately moving a hand up to mess up the hair Bev had touched. Julie scoffed at Bev’s question, beginning to accept that she wasn’t going to get away from Bev until the blonde was satisfied. That didn’t mean that she had to give in, though. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Julie asked, taking a step closer to make up for the space Bev had created. “Careful, Brenda, people might start accusing you of being obsessed with me.” 

.

“i’m not a stalker.” bev dismissed the accusation with ease, then revealed, “i was just like, uber devoted to my comprehensive ass ranking of hawkins high students that year. some of us like, have hobbies that don’t include snorting and smoking.” she smiled at julie, though faltered at the memory of one party where she’d personally patted down nearly everyone, including chrissy cunningham, for some coke. maybe julie wasn’t there, or maybe she wouldn’t remember. either way, the insult still stood. “it does sound nice doesn’t it...” bev sighed dreamily, then reminded julie, “but i’m here. with you. funny.” 

bev’s lips curled up wickedly as she watched julie’s response to her proximity. there was some hesitation. silence. hm. wouldn’t this be an interesting angle to attack from? testing her theory out, the blonde pouted at julie and ran the back of her hand down julie’s cheek, “you really think so little of me? that i’d do something so tired like assault animals and torment children?” she asked, then jutted her lip out further. when julie messed up her hair, bev, again, tucked the blonde strands behind julie’s ears and told her, “it looks good like this, foreskin.” and she let both of her hands linger behind julie’s ears before she dropped them. she crossed her arms and let julie fling her insults, noting how she inched closer. bev smirked, “aw, how cute. you’re just like, dying to get close to me aren’t you?” looking down at her nails, she took her plan a step further, just to see how julie might respond, “i know your brother has a car. is it here?” she looked the other up and down, starting at her toes and landing on her eyes, “maybe we could go like, check it out...you could....give me a ride to the pool?” she drawled. 

you’re really awkward. “ouch,” fitzy responded, bringing his hands up to his heart in feigned pain, but before he could even make a case for how he wasn’t awkward, he was told he was also a bad liar. unfortunately that he couldn’t dispute. as he wracked his brain for something clever to say—something about how he was honest and didn’t need to lie—bev decided to pull his focus with her alligator tears. “what the hell…?” fitzy asked, completely amused as he stared at her, his eyes filling with wonder, “you’ve got a technique?” a laugh escaped him as he shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, “wow. you’re like evil-evil, aren’t you?” a beat. “it’s impressive.”

when the conversation hit a natural lull, out of habit, fitzy began anxiously tapping his fingers against his legs like a drum. he would’ve gotten away with it too, had bev not been so set on calling him out on apparently everything. “do you make me…? ha!—do you make me nervous?” he retorted, cheeks flushed as he stared down at her and finally ceased tapping his fingers. she’s already called him out for being a bad liar, so he decided to go with his gut. he told the truth. “of course you make me nervous. have you seen you? i mean…sheesh, come on.” he shrugged and stared at her, a smitten smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he crossed his arms and added, “look at ya.” 

in that moment their eyes locked, and fitzy felt like his heart was thumping so wildly that it was moving in and out of his chest like a bugs bunny cartoon. the hold his high school crush still had on him was embarrassing, but not more embarrassing than this whole interaction was thrilling. but of course his dad had to ruin it. “we’re definitely not best friends,” fitz assured her, following her to the bench after asking permission, “he just forces me to do this stuff sometimes. says i have to because him and my mom don’t make me pay rent.” he sighed and shrugged indifferently. “not much else of a story there.” 

throughout this conversation with bev wildfire, fitzy had learned something about himself. he’d learned that perhaps he was a masochist. there was something about the way she insisted on always knocking him down a peg that intrigued and amused him. what could he say? maybe he just liked his girls a little mean. “barb holland? really? you can remember barb holland but you don’t remember me? the guy who sat next to you in 9th grade english, behind you in physics and had P.E class with you?” he scoffed playfully, slumping into the bench with a dramatically defeated sigh before he looked her way again, “that’s just cruel. i don’t know if i can come back from that one.” 

fitzy looked back at bev in time to see her rubbing her lips together and staring at him like that. it made his mouth dry almost instantly. but the moment was gone as quickly as it came. clearing his throat, awkwardly, he then began to nod. “i mean, yeah, people still do that stuff…like…hawkins is still hawkins. i don’t think that’ll ever change…” he glanced out at the crowd at the memorial, “even in the face of all…” he gestured towards the performance of it all, “this.” running his hands through his hair for a moment, trying to decide where to go next with this, he chose to play it safe. “so what have you been up to since high school?” ya know, besides being dead, “i haven’t seen or hear that much about you…” because you were dead. 

.

bev would never admit it if someone asked her, but when fitzy clutched his own heart and made a fool out of himself. she laughed. like, genuinely laughed. not at him, or to be condescending, or anything. she merely found him kinda funny...okay maybe that was a stretch. a word more she’d be more comfortable using would be like, entertaining, or earnest at most. funny felt too generous for this guy she hardly knew. it seemed they traded places in that regard though when bev forced tears to well in her own eyes and fitzy stood nearby, amazed. then there it was again. she laughed. “of course i have a technique. i can’t always get what i want with brute force.” bev said casually, then smiled deviously at the idea of her being evil, “that’s what they all say.” curiously, she asked, “what do they say about you?” she tossed her hair behind her shoulder as she clarified, “like, what’s your role in our small town melodrama?” 

fitzy’s response towards the drumming he was doing on his legs left bev looking entirely soft as he spoke. she told herself it was an act, another step to wrap him around her finger and play her silly little chess games with unwilling pawns. she was bev wildfire, she’d go to any lengths to boost her own ego, secure her confidence, but when she complimented him, it felt a little too real, and she thought she maybe wouldn’t try that again, “pink suits you.” she squeezed his cheeks and left it at that. 

she allowed him to speak on his dad, glad for the clarification they weren’t buddy buddy like that. bev understood where he was coming from. she fucking hated her family. well, not teddy, but the rest of them she found incompetent, pathetic, and simply not worth her time or respect. so as fitzy revealed they dangled not paying rent or whatever over his head, she laughed, though this time, a little more cruelly, “someone clearly did not ride their parents hard enough as a kid, break ‘em in!” if he had been smart, fitzy would’ve done what bev did and made his parents lives hell until he got his way for the rest of forever.  but bev knew not everyone was her and she liked it that way. maybe she’d give him some corrective pointers moving forward...they would have to see. 

as fitzy fussed about the whole barb comment, bev grinned at him, waiting for him to finish the spiel. maybe if she thought really hard, she’d remember the loser that apparently sat next to her in ninth grade english, behind her in physics, and had p.e with her, but bev wasn’t going to try to. she’d loved high school, but she liked this memory too. no need for them to intersect. bev shrugged at him, “barb holland had garish hair that was really easy to make fun of.” simple as that. then she posed her own question, “i mean, like, no offense or whatever, but why would i remember you? like, did you ever even do anything memorable?”

bev fell quiet after that, uncharacteristically so. she’d spent her whole first life trying to blaze a trail, to be somebody important, to fizzle out among the stars, but as she was learning some people either didn’t know or didn’t care that she had died and in the wake of her passing, their town was entirely the same like she’d never even stepped foot there. she really had no leg to stand on asking fitzy if he’d done anything memorable, because in truth, had she yet? either way, it was kind of a lot to think about and she nodded with a mere hm at his answer.

bev sprawled out on the bench, her feet falling into fitzy’s lap and she sighed. by all forms of logic, she probably shouldn’t go around telling people she died. but she was bev fucking wildfire and she didn’t abide by the rules of logic, she didn’t give a shit. “you don’t remember either?” of course. she sighed, letting her head dramatically fall to the candlelight vigil. she watched, wondering if anything like this was held for her. if she was missed. being dead fucking sucked. “fred benson hit me with his car. little twerp. i died.” she then sat up and looking at fitzy with a curious glint in her eye, “do you believe me?” 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 && 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 ( musings )

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 ( pics )

blue quarry mall was just okay. bev was wildly underimpressed with the establishment, but it’s not like she had much else better to do with her undead life besides loiter and torment at any given opportunity. the stores in the mall were so so, but the food court was prime real estate for people watching, and even people harassing if she was feeling up to it. she sat, bored, chin in her hand, lips wrapped around a straw as her eyes coldly followed patrons who entered and exited through the food court. 

it wasn’t until beth richards strolled by that bev rose to her feet, drink still in hand. beth had never done anything to bev, but then again, who did bev wildfire berate with righteous cause? answer: no one. she had her fun in high school, teasing ginny driscoll and beth richards alike, but now bev was like, kind of friends with ginny, so she figured a stroll down memory lane with beth was entirely warranted. gripping her cup firmly, bev walked quickly so she could stop beth in her path. before she said anything, she slurped from her straw, “beth richards.” she flashed a sweet smile, “i didn’t know you were still riding the loser express through hawkins! come to fill out an application at waldenbooks? i cant imagine they would’ve hired you at merry go round..is the gap not hiring?” another sip. 

who: steve harrington & @rebcrn​

where: the middle of the road!

while steve was thankful that lucas worried for him, he needed to drive all by himself. he still had the cast wrapped around his wrist and sure, it didn’t help with driving, but he thought he was doing pretty well. he needed that moment alone with his car, although he was pretty sure that he was just embarrassing himself right in that very moment. he would drive around town and probably end up at the trailer park, but he was glad to have that moment to himself. he turned on the radio only loud enough so that he would hear as he kept driving down the road. he looked around at the houses for a few moments but those moments were enough for him to get distracted. the last thing he expected was for someone to cross in front of his car, which made him hit the brakes so fast. at least he still he got it, he thought to himself.

he was about to yell at the person in front of the car when he noticed who it was. beverly. now that was a sight that he hadn’t been expecting to see, especially when he had almost hit her with his car. “bev? what the…?” he asked, shaking his head as he peaked his head out of the window staring at the other. “what the fuck are you doing in the middle of the road? i could have hit you!” he told the other, shaking his head as he watched the other. now this was something that steve couldn’t have predicted, but then again, it had been a while since he had been with bev. he just didn’t expect it. “just… get in the car before someone actually runs you over. i know you wouldn’t want to… ruin your hair or something of the sort.” he said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

.

the sound of screeching breaks was enough to leave bev shaking. apparently, dying in a car accident had some downsides? who would have thought! it was more annoying, really, that a sound had gotten her so riled up. in an instant, bev gasped and her entire body shuddered. as soon as she was able to shove herself back inside her skin and recognize that it was steve behind the wheel of the car that almost hit her, she knew she’d be making a fuss about it. bev had grown up with steve, along with jack too. and that was a special kind of friendship, one bev hoped would transcend dying and coming back to life. how much had steve changed in four years? would he remember her dying? all questions she was ready to find out as she stomped over to his front door and got into the car.  with a huff, bev tossed her hair over her shoulder, “i was crossing the road, hair for brains.” she shook her head, making it clear she thought he was in the wrong. “that was like, uber inconsiderate of you...” bev looked at him like he was crazy. riding the assumption he remembered she spoke of her death casually, like it was no big deal, “like, me plus cars, is not a good fucking mix.” she gestured wildly, sitting up from her chair even. bev eventually leaned back into it and slowly said, “thank you for thinking of my hair though, that’s like, super thoughtful.” 

Jack had gotten a car for his seventeenth birthday, and it was the best day of his life. It was a Ford F-Series, the kind with a white stripe down the side like he’d found in the car magazines and begged his parents for from the moment it was released. He supposed it was the fatherly thing to do, because it was his dad who’d given him the keys on his birthday and led him out to the driveway to reveal the car waiting for him. It was right before he had started senior year of high school, and he’d ridden his car, nicknamed Jimmy back then, to school every single day, parking in the same spot at the front of the lot. Jimmy the car had become part of his identity, and he wondered if it was Jo or Julie who’d fought their parents to keep it after his death. He hadn’t expected the car to be still in the driveway with a tarp over it upon his return, but it had been, and it was truthfully one of his favorite reunions when he’d gotten back.

Leaving the car untouched for a few years meant that a lot of work needed to be done on it, though, and Jack had been taking to fixing up Jimmy this summer as somewhat of a hobby. It was a good way to keep busy between having a lack of things to do and a lot of time to think. He’d been listening to his Walkman and working on the car when he heard a shrill call of his name, turning to see none other than Bev herself barreling down his driveway. “Me?” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit, uh,  yeah, of course. Let me just get a new shirt from upstairs and put away all of this?” he asked, tipping his head toward the toolbox in the driveway.

.

jack falling over himself to take her to the mall was certainly enough to bring a smile to her face. “hurry.” she sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against the car as she waited. since joining the ranks of the living dead, bev noted how the sun didn’t feel as warm on her skin, food didn’t taste as good, even human touch merely felt like static running across her skin at times. barking demands at jack foreman though? well, bev felt like she’d never died to begin with. she needed to chase more of that. 

when jack made his reappearance, she waited for him to unlock his car before she slid into the front seat and began shuffling through his selection of tapes. it didn’t take her long to groan, “jacky, don’t you have like, literally anything worth listening to?” she didn’t give him much time to answer her question before rolling down her window as they pulled out of the driveway. “so this new mall...” she took a pair of sunglasses that sat in a cupholder and popped them on, then looked down at her nails as she spoke, “have you been? do they have a county seat?” she could use some new jeans. 

If there was one person in this world that Julie Foreman hated with every fiber of her being, it was Bev Wildfire. The pair had been bitter enemies all throughout high school, often ending up at one another’s throats. Bev was a bitch - she was cruel and vapid and selfish, and Julie just hated everything about her. She was sure that Bev had her own reasons for hating Julie, which is why they had always found themselves ready to claw the other’s eyes out in high school. The amount of times they’d gotten called to the office to explain why they’d written “Julie Foreskin is a skank” or “Bev Wildfire does porn and it isn’t even good” on a bathroom stall was a bit excessive, but valid. In Julie’s opinion, Bev was a huge bitch. 

So when Julie had taken her lunch break after spending all morning having her meanspirited boss demand she make more coffee, she was horrified to see the other blonde waiting on her on the steps of City Hall. Sucking in a breath, Julie rolled her eyes at Bev’s comment. Frankly, she had thought the other had disappeared after high school. Bev had always planned on getting out, and Julie hadn’t been around to see if she had or not. Either way, she’d mostly forgotten about her and had no idea what she was doing here now. “Brenda,” She greeted with a fake smile, making her way to the step Bev was waiting on. “My ass looks great in anything,” Julie replied, crossing her arms. “Are you feeling sick? You look a little pale and tired,” She faked concern, hating the fact that Bev looked just as good as usual. Why were the bitchiest people also usually the hottest? “Maybe you should go back to whatever hole in the ground you crawled out of on your way out of Hell and sleep it off.” 

.

my ass looks great in anything. bev was quick to hold up a finger and disagree, “not in those jeans you wore in the winter of ‘83.” she corrected the other, how could she forget such an offense? bev would never erase the image from her mind’s eye of how julie foreman looked when she walked into civics that december morning. as the other jabbed about her looking pale and tired, bev let out a small gasp and looked down at her hand in the sun. it was like fucking foreskin knew she was feeling insecure about lacking a youthful glow since crawling out of a grave. cracking her neck to the left, bev smiled sweetly and played it off, “i guess i’ll just have to get out and tan today.” 

rising from the stairs, she crossed down to julie. she pouted as julie implied she’d just gotten back from hell. clicking her tongue, she placed her hands on julie’s shoulders, “hurry back before i’ve even gotten the chance to catch up with you? bug you a little?” she peeled her fingers off of julie and tucked the other girl’s hair behind her ears for her. when bev was done, she stepped back and clasped her hands in front of her, “not a chance, foreskin.” she wasn’t leaving until she got her fill of tormenting! it was true! now folding her arms over her chest, bev eyed her nails as she asked, “where are you scurrying off to?” 

Evie had never been very good at customer service; no matter how many times her grandfather had recited his ‘the customer is always right’ mantra, it didn’t sink in. Were it up to her, she’d have locked the door and waved, leaving Bev without her beverage. But now more than ever, it was important for Evie to bite her tongue, paste on a sickly sweet smile, and at least attempt to honor her grandfather’s legacy. “I’d be happy to open it for you,” Evie offered, smile creasing her eyes, after she counted back the customer’s change. She motioned to the bottle opener to solidify the offer. 

At the girl’s thinly veiled diss, Evie’s smile tightened. She smoothed the front of her button down not bothering to tuck it all the way in. Evie hadn’t dealt with a mean girl in years; most parts of the world were more developed than this, but she figured it was part of the small-town charm. “You know, I’m actually not sure. Check the tag, if you want,” she remarked, echoing the girl’s obviously fake smile. Evie flipped the collar down, sliding the oversized shirt off her shoulder and looking at Bev as if asking well, are you going to check? She shrugged the shirt back on and took the change, painstakingly counting out on the counter. “It’s all part of the ruse. Getting people to support local business,” she said, carefully enunciating every syllable in business for emphasis. “Need a receipt, blondie?” 

.

did this stranger think she could one up bev in a bitch off? fat chance. bev wildfire practically invented the term bitch off! she very obviously fake laughed as the worker offered to open her soda for her and she responded, “don’t even think about touching my drink.” didn’t this girl know that change and cash were absolutely filthy? all the hands that had touched it? no way was she going to transfer those germs to her drink! as annoyed as bev was and as quick as she was to snap back, there was a blatant challenge before her. she prided herself on her ability to get with anyone and manipulate any situation in her favor. the fact of the matter was? the clerk’s ability to keep up with her was so fucking attractive, it was infuriating. she had to gain some control over this situation.

when she slipped her shirt down, bev eyed her bare shoulder and a wicked idea bloomed at the front of her mind. she pushed the soda to the side and squinted, “can’t read that tiny little font.” she said with a bored sigh. then with ease, she hopped onto the counter, lifted up her legs, then set them down, sliding behind the register with the worker. “who cares about a receipt?” bev placed her cold hand on the back of her neck, jostling her close as she grinned, tongue between her teeth. making her intentions very clear, her eyes bore into evie’s, permanent darkness beckoning the other to get on the same page. “i’m busy.” she explained to evie in a whisper, slowly dragging her hand down from the back of her neck and stopping at the top button of the shirt. aggressively, she popped the button open and let her hand sit there for a second as she informed the other, “you know, if you’re seen talking to me, you shouldn’t wear something so horrific.” 

julie fucking foreman. talk about the bane of bev’s existence. she was nothing like her sweet, simple, little brother and when she looked back on high school much of it was spent carefully kicking dirt over their rivalry to stay in jack’s good graces while simultaneously being as viscous as humanly possible in the rumors she scribbled on the bathroom stall about julie. her first week or so being back from the dead, she lived in a blissful existence where she didn’t remember julie. that was until she was headed to city hall to pester that hot mayor out of sheer boredom and she saw that squeezable little head of julie’s and beelined for the exit-- for the sake of her own sanity. 

but bev was so bored lately. so bored. hawkins had always been droll, but never like this. she figured it might be a side effect from her four-year-long dirt nap but didn’t read too aggressively into it. into how different she felt. instead, when life got yawn-worthy, she made her fun. and today’s fun? antagonize julie foreman! she had done some light research (interrogating the front desk worker) about when the blonde intern’s break would be. sufficiently informed, she sprawled out on the steps in front of city hall and waited for julie to walk out. from over her left shoulder, she heard footsteps on cue and smirked to herself as the other walked down the stairs. loudly wincing, bev set down the book she wasn’t reading and shook her head, “yikes foreskin...” she clicked her tongue and sat up a little, “those pants are doing nothing for your ass. i guess it’s nice to see that not even bad taste can change.” 

since coming back or rather, since the accident, bev figured, her car had kind of been out of commission. that meant she had absolutely no way to get where she wanted other than walking or hailing rides from random, old, pervs. ick. neither were ideal. and even if she still did have her car? well, she wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting behind the wheel of a vehicle any time soon. so, that left her with limited options and lots of scheming to be done. eventually, that led her to the conclusion that she needed someone who would fall at her feet. and while the options were limitless, there had been only one who had been doing it since childhood. 

she knew the way to the foreman residence like she knew not to wear white after labor day, for better or for worse. on foot, bev made her way over and stood at the end of the drive way, yelling until she got some kind of a response, “jacky!” her tone was shrill, piercing, and it was surprising the neighborhood dogs didn’t come running at what was essentially a whistle. “jack! jack foreman! i need you!” she groaned loudly. when he appeared in her line of sight, bev smiled wickedly and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes as she waved, “i hear there’s a new mall.” thrilling, “think you can be a good boy and play chauffeur for the day?”

fitzy’s experience with girls was fairly limited. save for an almost fling with julie foreman in high school, there wasn’t much else to report. so while he was doing his best to hug and comfort bev, the way she looked at him when she pulled away made it clear that his moves weren’t working. crap. how could he save this interaction? he opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but she beat him to it with a question he knew he’d have a bad answer to. so naturally, he lied. “um…i mean…yeah…of course i had him,” but only for a second, “sorry, i don’t know why i said that…i…no. i didn’t have him.” he cleared his throat and dropped his hands before he began rhythmically and lightly tapping his hands against his sides—a nervous habit, if you will. 

when bev asked for an introduction, fitz stared at her blankly for a moment. they’d gone to school together all those years and she had no idea who he was. he’d always figured that, but getting the confirmation stung. he cleared his throat and forced a smile though. “sorry, i didn’t mean to grab you…you were the one who…anyway, i’m fitzy…fitzgerald. well, gareth fitzgerald but everyone calls me fitzy,” he clicked his tongue and glanced over at his dad who was wearing his cop uniform despite being off-duty, “that’s my dad and he…forced me to be here, so…” he shrugged and pursed his lips, hoping that was explanation enough.

“and who are you again?” fitzy asked, half-trying to be funny and half-trying to save face since he so clearly knew who she was. “you’re…bev…?” bev love-of-my-life-who-died-but-somehow-came-back-to-life wildfire, “bev wild…wildes? what is it again?” and before she could respond, he added, “i’m pretty sure we had a couple of classes together.” and by pretty sure, he meant definitely. his eyes moved with her to the bench first but his feet were quick to follow. “may i?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response before plopping down beside her and gazing at the whole crowd of people crying and hugging over the beloved middle school teacher. her unprompted statement made him snort before he glanced over at her. “who goes to a memorial because they’re bored?” despite being inappropriate, it was making him laugh. “why not go get drunk at skull rock or make out at lover’s lake like the rest of us?” 

.

these weren’t the big strong arms that bev had been imagining, but as fitzy rattled on and on about mr.clarke, her head tilted more and more to the left, expression contorting with great confusion. as judgmental as she looked her hands lingered, squeezing his shoulders for an extra moment before she fully stepped back and let him know, “you’re really awkward.” bev folded one arm over the other, “and you’re an even worse liar. like, really bad.” she told him, although some of that initial distaste was dwindling. “i don’t believe in like, jesus christ, or whoever said lying was a sin, so if you’re going to do it at least be good at it.” clearing her throat, in a terrifying switch, bev began gasping for air, fake crying convincingly enough to produce a tear, “i had him! he was everything to me!” she buried her face in her hands and when she looked back up, she was giggling, “see, totally convincing!” 

bev’s eyes flashed to his tapping hands as he introduced himself and she looked dangerously sly as she took a step back towards him, “fitzy...” she noted, voice low and dripping with interest. some fabricated, some genuine. her gaze flicked down to his hands as she asked, “do i make you nervous?” her eyes locked with his own for a moment, trying to draw him in even further. ones like this were always easy, but still fun nonetheless. cute. it had been a while since she’d even been able to play around, so she would take what she could get, even if that included this weirdo at a memorial. even if it led nowhere. even if she kinda liked the conversation. she broke eye contact when she made for the bench, sizing up fitzy’s father. a cop. ugh. “what? are you guys like best friends or something? why did you come with your dad?” in no world would she be caught in public with her father. 

settling on the bench, her brows arched, a warning sign. quickly, she corrected him, “wildfire. don’t forget it again, blitzen.” bev smiled as the half rhyme to his name slid off her tongue, sweet as sugar. “i don’t remember that.” she admitted, but what was there to remember? bev wasn’t at all shocked to learn she hadn’t recalled sharing a classroom with him. she was far too busy in high school to know every person in every class for four years. as fitzy asked to sit, she eyed the bench next to her, pretended to think about it, then nodded. intentionally, she sat close beside him, thighs touching, simply curious to see his reaction to her proximity as they chatted. the first genuine smile came to her face when fitzy brought up the old haunts and she teased, “no way you’ve made out at lover’s lake...with who? barb holland?” though her words were harsh, she rubbed her lipgloss against her lips in a way that said would you want to go? with me? bev sighed, then rapidly abandoned that energy to genuinely ask, curious like a little kid, “do people still really do that stuff?” there was something more alarming in her eyes than anything else that evening-- tenderness. 

oh, this was getting personal. and honestly? maybe that was a good thing. lucas hadn’t let himself feel all that much since the carnival. the five stages of grief were all jumbled in his head. he’d been in denial for the first couple of days, which was to be expected. but then he’d jumped right to bargaining, praying to a god he only saw on christmas and easter that if only he could have mr. clarke back, then he’d be a better person, go to church on sundays like his nana wanted, donate half his earnings from the pool to charity or whatever would bring him back. then, the depression set in. he’d cried. a lot. sometimes alone in his bathroom, where he wouldn’t bother his parents or erica or max. sometimes with his friends. and sometimes just while he fell asleep in max’s arms. but he’d cried himself dry, apparently, because even bev’s words didn’t make the familiar tears prick the corners of his eyes. all he felt right now was white-hot anger, and he had a perfect target for it in front of him.

(he didn’t know that he’d ever accept mr. clarke’s untimely passing, no matter what joann said in therapy.)

lucas didn’t know bev wildfire, which made it all too easy to bite back at her without feeling bad about it. “people like you are the reason why people like me leave this place and never come back. you know that?” hawkins was home. it was as much part of him as being a brother, being pretty naturally gifted at sports was, or playing d&d was. but the dark parts of it, in the people, not the monsters from the upside down? that was why lucas wanted to bail on this place and never look back. if his friends or parents didn’t stick around hawkins, he might never come back.

“you’re such a self-centered little-” it was probably a good thing that the words died on his lips. his mother would have killed him just for thinking it. he raised his eyebrows at the blonde, mind racing as he recalled hazy images of upturned graves…and falling into one of them towards the beginning of the summer. his mouth was suddenly dry. the anger was still there, burning at the back of his mind, but lucas had latched on to the grave thing tight and he couldn’t let it go. “did somebody bury you alive or what?” the joke fell flat because his voice trembled, just a bit. what the fuck was she talking about?

.

he was upset. bev could spot that from a mile away. how many girls had she relentlessly attacked in high school to the point of tears? how many guys had she turned down and humiliated so that they cried? in the past, she would’ve laughed cruelly, but her expression faltered, twitching in confusion. hawkins was so the same, but this seemed different. it wasn’t funny, it was just kind of pathetic and sad. so, bev did something she’d never done before, and she eased up. instead, she looked incredulous as he ranted about hawkins and life and her being self centered. whatever. that part she’d heard before and that part, albeit true, was the least of her worries. 

did somebody bury you alive or what? never had bev been so deeply offended. how could he not remember her death? how did the world not stop for him when he heard the news? bev figured her departure from this plane must’ve been nearly as big as buddy holly’s plane going down before all of them were even born. flustered and huffing over this, she corrected him, “nobody buried me alive, moron. i died!” bev cried out, then began to berate him, “an idiot, even bigger than you, like, totally crashed into me! summer of ‘84? i had just graduated?” she was so caught up in complaining, she didn’t even seem phased she had shared extremely sensitive information. 

Maria couldn’t pinpoint the girl, though she seemed to be quite sure of precisely who she was. In fact, it amused her and brought a small smirk to the edges of her lips. Maybe she was having too much fun with it but the girl had it coming. When you were that moody this early in the day there just wasn’t any hope for you or so Maria thought. She’d given most people until 12:00 before your day could be ruined. Lunchtime was sometimes the worst part of the day, she had her own memories of putting a fist into the face of a kid picking on her younger brother. That one got her landed in detention but her mom made her favorite dinner that night. Family first, all the Torres’ knew that. 

“Didn’t ask for your name but cool, thanks,” she said before chuckling to herself and turning back to the machine. Maria stared and let her head tilt to the side. Of course this girl was up herself enough to be against soda machines. “Good, hopefully a handful come out and I can also eat them for lunch. I needed a protein.” A smile was what came after as she stared at the blonde in front of her. Not everyone understood Maria and that’s exactly how she wanted it. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the little guys. Snakes too? Or are you ‘not like other girls’?”

.

“you’re welcome.” bev obliged happily. her smile turned to rapid disgust as the stranger talked about eating spiders. frowning, she gave her a quick look up and down. she simply had to ask, “are you a patient here playing dress up?” she proceeded to take a couple of steps to the side, just to be safe, before making her question more explicit, “like, are you mentally unwell?” fully convinced of her own theory, she looked over her shoulder, “where’s your psychiatrist?” this girl was downright weird. being someone who had literally died and come back, bev thought that her opinion should be held in even higher esteem. she knew weird, intimately. despite nursing a severe case of the heebie jeebies, bev still got briefly excited, “god no, i love snake! especially for a jacket, or some cute little boots.” 

lucas’ eyes arced towards the sky. it was overcast and cloudy, almost like it was mimicking the mood of those gathered for this vigil. hands in his pockets but balled into fists, he scoffed at her. “yeah, you look really broken up about it,” he deadpanned, shifting his weight to his back foot and giving the group gathered a sweep. he didn’t see anybody he actually gave a shit about here and so he didn’t see many people he knew actually gave a shit about scott clarke here, either. 

once he decided he couldn’t find someone else to latch onto, his gaze fell back upon bev. he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep from snapping at her. when he did speak, his tone was almost eerily even. “this isn’t some kind of social gathering, you know? you miss the carnival or something?” he dug the toe of his sneaker into the ground. “don’t worry. i’m sure the mayor will hold some other stupid event soon to take everybody’s mind off of…all of this.” 

.

bev wasn’t stupid. no matter how many dumb blonde jokes were thrown her way, she knew that if this kid was going to be hostile, she had to be hostile back. in bev’s eyes that was simply how life worked, rules of the jungle, eat or be eaten. as far as she was concerned, she was way too good looking to be dinner. “oh, what? you’re like, uber heartbroken over this?” bev scoffed, she doubted that. if she didn’t care, why would anyone else? “what was he? like, your boyfriend? cry me a river.” she crossed her arms, tapping her nails against her shoulder as she put the final nail in the coffin, “he was just some teacher, like, yeah it’s sad, but his position as nerdiest teacher in hawkins will be filled by the time summer ends.” 

somehow, the conversation got even worse when he met her with an unexpected calm. not only was it unexpected, but bev responded quickly, not thinking very much, “i did miss the carnival, thank you for asking. i was busy digging myself out of a literal grave.” she told him, which probably wasn’t wise, but if he didn’t surprise her again, he’d buy it as some weird analogy. the other then started badmouthing mayor st.james, which caused bev to groan loudly, interrupting him, “do you do anything other than like, complain?”

Scott Clarke. That name hadn’t crossed Virginia’s mind since she was thirteen. Anyone who went through the Hawkins school system was bound to have Mr. Clarke at some point and she had been no exception. Ginny didn’t like mourning, no one did, but she had lost her grandparents when she was rather young. Not that it mattered much because she never really knew either, but the hurt was still there. The loss. She felt the same way about Mr. Clarke. The sinking feeling, the tightness in her chest knowing that she’d never see that person grabbing eggs at Melvald’s or playing checkers on the front porch again. 

So, she showed up to the memorial at Hawkins Middle. It felt nerve wracking stepping foot on the schoolgrounds, almost like someone would be waiting to pull at her pigtails or kick her to the ground. No one did that, though. Instead, she was met with how are you’s? and he was a really great guy, wasn’t he? from people she could distinctively remember bullying her from grade school to high school graduation. Such was the case as Bev Wildfire flew into Ginny’s arms right after Ginny finished setting flowers down at the growing shrine. It was jarring, but not enough to keep Virginia from wrapping her arms around her, squeezing her shoulder. 

A few years prior, she would have dreamed of this moment. Girls like Bev Wildfire just didn’t pay attention to her in high school and if they did, it was usually to mock her. Now, it just meant… nothing. I mean, what had Bev been up to? It’s not like she had heard that name since 1984. “It’s okay, he’s like, in that big bio lab in the sky. I think that was like, his ultimate goal,” so she wasn’t the most sensitive when it came to comforting others, but she was at least hugging her! She pulled away, looking at Bev. She was pretty, maybe even prettier than Gin last remembered. Her makeup wasn’t even messed up from her crying. “I have a compact in my purse, do you want it? It’d be so grody if you got all red and puffy.”

.

finally. someone was speaking her language. the soft words and interpersonal eulogizing for scott clarke was so not her jam, especially when she could hardly remember being in his middle school science class. she had been too preoccupied with a broken leg and batting her eyelashes at boys to learn anything about the scientific method. if she hadn’t taken a dirt nap for four years, maybe bev would’ve felt a little sadder about the whole thing, but ever since she walked out of the woods, she’d been feeling totally energized, like all of the air she breathed was pure sunlight. but now? all she felt was mr.clarke was sympathy. she had been dead once and it hadn’t been fun. 

the girl hugging her though relinquished any feelings of remorse with her suggestion that he was in that big bio lab in the sky. bev had a feeling that wasn’t the case, but it was still nice to hear. “totally...” she breathed out, “you’re so right.” she stepped back from the girl, wanting to get a good look at her. she couldn’t pinpoint the face, which was odd, because she looked familiar, which only caused bev to narrow her eyes. she wasn’t going to share a compact with just anyone. 

the blonde tilted her head curiously as she stared harshly at the girl, then it clicked. “oh my fucking god, you’re ginny fucking driscoll.” her jaw dropped as she laughed in disbelief. her shock curled into a devious smile as she asked, “when did you get hot?” she was definitely taking her up on the offer of the compact. linking her arm with ginny’s she headed towards the school and it’s likely unlocked doors. this was a nose-powdering worth endeavor if she’d ever seen it, and she had no doubts it would be more interesting than this vigil. turning to ginny as they walked, bev admitted, “i thought you were gonna be a complete uggo for life, be honest, what changed?” beyond virginia driscoll, bev was learning more and more each day that this wasn’t the same hawkins, and that yes, in fact, everything had changed.

he should have just kept driving. lucas knew how fake the sorts of vigils hawkins middle was holding for mr. clarke were. he’d witnessed way too many of them over the last few years and it always left a bitter taste in his mouth. people who didn’t give a shit about scott clarke when he was alive were probably crying over a bunsen burrer he’d touched once now, if only because it was the thing to do when somebody died. the mayor was probably trying to safe face because it was an election year…at least that’s what charles had said at the breakfast table that morning. lucas had never paid much attention to politics. maybe he should start, since he was old enough to vote now and all. 

but lucas sinclair was feeling a little bit rebellious and a lot pissed off tonight. so he parked his car down at the high school and walked up on the candlelit vigil. someone he didn’t recognize was talking in the center of the circle, recounting the most basic memory of mr. clarke, and lucas couldn’t help but scoff under his breath. he had his hands shoved into his pockets, the edges of his car key digging into his palm just to feel something other than the white-hot anger held in his clenched jaw and bunched up shoulders. it was a wonder he managed to react at all when some girl he didn’t recognize practically threw herself at him. he did, though, just barely catching her with one arm, the other hand still shoved deep into the pocket of his jacket. he sized the blonde up as he set her back on her feet and took a step back and away from her. “did you know him well?” the tone in which he asked would tell her that lucas thought she was full of shit. this entire thing was a fucking farce. 

.

being pushed away and kept at an arms length was not the response bev was trying to get, so she intentionally stumbled away, making the motion look much more dramatic than it was in actuality. feeling embarrassed her plan hadn’t work, she lashed out, “hey, watch it loser.” she huffed, fixing her hair and wiping the fabricated tears that just didn’t seem to do the trick. “haven’t you heard of like, empathy? i’m literally mourning.” she informed him, gesturing to the vigil that sat nearby. grief might have manifested in different ways, but this was not one that bev wildfire would tolerate! 

if not taking her into his arms wasn’t enough, the bite in his words sent her over the edge. while she was intrigued that he had enough courage to imply she was lying, even if he didn’t say it, she was mostly annoyed. “no.” she answered truthfully, “but everyone like, knew him, you know. hometown hero.”