#scarburned

                            after two weeks of being able to drive a limo around - some stupid B-list celebrity had booked the service - she was now back to her regular old cab. and quite honestly, she’s missed it. it was far more comfortable and not as serious. it’s early in the evening. there’s yet another pop song on the radio and the air is somewhat stiff which is why she has the window partly rolled down and a coke in her cup holder instead of coffee. surprisingly, there’s not a lot going on tonight so she wasn’t sure if to be glad or annoyed that her peace was interrupted as a customer approached her car, opened the door and leaned down. she gave the girl a crooked smile.

                    he blinks,     &&  he pauses. eyes averting for a moment, before refocusing on her. starting his words slow, the man finishes them with a more picked up pace, as though contemplating them while in the middle of speaking,       ❝   ... is that a  trick  question ?   ❞             idiot.       could this have implied he found it somewhat reasonable?

he’s seen enough weird shit to last a lifetime. the big city cop returned to hawkins hoping for a peaceful life, a simpler life. kids go missing, his friend ends up dead and strange monsters that look like they stepped out of a god damned horror movie terrorized the sleepy little town. of course the government was at fault for this. whatever they were messing with in that lab had managed to escape. hopper was always on alert now, impossibly aware of what now lurks in the night. he’d rather forget about will byers and the strange little girl who had appeared just as he vanished. hawkins turned upside down in a matter of days, probably why he was more spooked then ever. “jesus, kid. you can’t just sneak up on someone like that.” the chief leans back against the headrest of his patrol car as a girl appears beside the door. “you need help or something?” 

“ I hate to be THAT PERSON, ” she didn’t hate to be that person at ALL. “ But really, he had it coming. ” 

     Angry doesn’t come close to what he’s feeling right now, he’s furious. It isn’t just the fight that he lost, or the jeering from the crowd and their mocking gestures. None of that matters as much as the scene that’s taking place a few feet away from him. What has his blood boiling the most, are a few wankers loudly taunting Perrie and Savannah. Using words Billy would rather not repeat. Their intentions are clearly not to be friendly. He makes his way over to scene, pushing himself inbetween two of the men to place drinks in his hands on the table. His now free hand then grabs the shirt of one of the men and he forces him a few metres backwards. “Lads,” regardless of this being America, Billy still had his London ‘terminology’ rooted in him. A dead stare is pointed at the remaining men still standing around their table, challenging them. He then refers to Savannah and Perrie instead, his voice significantly less sharp.