#vr:starter

Where: Bradley's Big Guy Supermarket (before funeral)

Why: Idk the man's grieving!!!

Jonathan looked like shit. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it. If it weren’t for the fact that he physically couldn’t tolerate another meal of eggs & toast, he’d be heading off to bed right now instead of Bradley’s Big Guy Supermarket. His stuffy suit jacket had been abandoned before exiting the car, leaving him in a wrinkled dress shirt - rolled at the sleeves – with an oversized tie looped around his collar. A scraggly beard and mop of tousled hair weren’t doing him any favours either. The last few days had been hell - sorting through boxes of family relics while periodically darting from his house, the bank, and back to his mom's place to appraise the family home. Cooking comprehensive meals obviously hadn’t been a priority.

The pasta aisle was his last stop before check-out and reading labels on the shelf felt like work. He spent a solid minute considering his choices, picking up a box to get a better look at the label. Dwelling over instant pasta brands was a pretty pointless conundrum in the grand scheme of his life right now, but the shelves were stripped of his current lifeline: Kraft White Cheddar. Fucking fantastic. With his eyes still narrowed on the box of pasta in hand, he caught a glimpse of someone in his periphery. Jonathan figured that it was a store clerk. “Hey -” it was an automatic greeting to get their attention, something lodged deep in his brain. Once he finally glanced over and realized the person didn't work here, the box immediately dropped from his hand into his basket. He turned his body away from the shelf to face them. "Oh, uh - sorry, I thought you were ..." He paused, averting his gaze down to the contents of his own basket. The frozen pizzas and 6-pack of Pepsi looked like something a college student would pick up in preparation for a hangover. "I guess I thought you worked here." Jonathan's next comment left him faster than he could register it. “They're out of white cheddar." He ran a hand upwards to scratch the back of his neck, basket now nestled in the crook of his other elbow. Fuck, that was weird.

Evan felt the familiar weight of defeat on his shoulders, something he was no stranger to. Sometimes leads went no where, sometimes information stayed under lock-and-key, and other times his charm didn't work on receptionists.

He'd been on a hunt for information about rabid bats in the time following his encounter with them at the high school. Never had he experienced something so violent, well, from animals at least, nor had he been so caught off guard. At least in his investigative career he knew to brace himself for hidden risks, so he'd be on the look out ahead of time, always prepared for something to go awry. His second stint in Hawkins, however, was completely alien to him. This town had so many secret and he was determined to figure it all out.

The man let out a heaving sigh and looked up at the sky, hands in his pockets, thinking about the multitude of ways he could get around his issue. He'd been told by the receptionist inside that his request could not be granted due to his ' status ' as a ' civilian ' and he translated that to ' get lost, kid '.

even if two years with ford had passed, steve still wasn’t used to walk around with a stroller while everyone had watched. and if he wasn’t used to that, he definitely wasn’t used to doing it while everyone he knew was back in town for joyce’s funeral. it was a tough week, to say the least. even if he didn’t show it, steve had been upset about this whole thing. it was a weird thing to think about, joyce being gone, when steve had grown up seeing her around town. but it wasn’t the time to think about that. steve was walking around, pushing the stroller with ford in it as he tried to get him to sleep - or to take a nap, at least. it was weird that he would have used this time to drive around in his car before, but now he was too busy with the kid. but he wouldn’t complain.

“come on, ford, you need to take a nap... or else you’ll be grumpy all night and then i’m the one who has to suffer, right?” steve talked with ford like he would talk back with him. it wasn’t like he couldn’t understand him, steve just thought that ford had plenty of better reasons to ignore steve than actually listen to him. the other had gone quiet for a bit and steve took a peek to see if he was asleep, but he was still wide awake, just chewing on a toy that he had somehow found. “give me that...” he said as he took the toy away from him, to which he just started crying. steve sighed as he stopped the stroller in the middle of the sidewalk and walked around it so he could kneel in front of the stroller. “really?” he asked. it only hit him that he was basically talking to himself when he saw someone standing there. “oh! sorry, i didn’t see you there.” he said as he handed the toy back to ford so he could stop crying, then turned to the person. “sorry, that was... weird.” he said, clearing his throat.

“no, you listen to me, jessica! if i get to new york and you haven’t fixed this, i will take off my shoe, turn it sideways and shove it up your...” erica had been on this call for about thirty minutes, trying to find a way to solve a problem that had happened all the way in new york. one thing about presidential candidates was that they didn’t seem to know what they were doing most of the time and they were almost like children that depended on their campaign managers. this time around it wasn’t any different, except erica wasn’t there to fix this. she was about to keep yelling at her assistant to try and find a solution to this problem when she saw someone approach her.

“i’ll call you right back, jessica. fix this.” erica signed off with a threatening tone, moving her phone away from her ear and flipping it shut, as she looked over at the person who had approached her. if there was a thing about hawkins, was that people were going to snoop whenever they had the chance. erica guessed it was because it was a small town, but she knew that even in new york people seemed to mind other people’s business. “can i help you? or are you done listening to my private conversation?” she asked, a frown on her face.

the hawk had always been a place of escape for him going back to summer of ‘85. in some ways, things were simpler then. steve had been able to sneak them in the back, so lucas and his friends smuggled in their own snacks and sodas and watched double features free of charge. sure, there was that whole mindflayer thing, but it was also the last time he and all of his friends had been all together (and all in (mostly) one piece).  he missed it.

plus, this place had air conditioning, unlike his shitty apartment. he’d just finished up watching miama vice. he’d caught talladaga night last week, so lucas was pondering the merits of the remaining offerings while standing in line at the snack bar with his empty large popcorn bucket. he wasn’t really interested in spending another six bucks on a movie he didn’t even really want to see. hey, he was a teacher, alright? he didn’t make the big bucks. plus, he had another mouth to feed now. lucas made a mental note to stop at melvald’s on the way home so the-cat-he-didn’t-own wouldn’t eat him in his sleep because he’d forgotten to get kibble. again.  the popcorn refill, though? that was free. 

he checked his phone while the bored teenager behind the counter refilled his bucket. and then he spotted the pinball machine in the corner of the lobby, which was way more enticing than another movie. this reminded him of his childhood, too, of racing his friends to beat their high scores at the palace every day after school. change jingled in his pockets as he made his way over, propped the popcorn on top of the machine, and popped in a couple of quarters. 

dark eyes focused on the game in front of him even as a shadow fell over the glass. “you mind?” he asked without bothering to look who’d invaded his space. “working on a high score over here.”