Dumpster Fire

CHAPTER 1

He hadn't wanted to move to this podunk, backwoods, dumpster fire of a town. He didn't want a new mom or a fucking step sister who didn't know when to shut her goddamn mouth and bow her head.

He had a system in place after his mom bailed. He'd had a fucking routine. He could tell by the way the car pulled into the drive the mood his dad would be in, to make himself unseen and unheard.

Sneak out at night to ride the waves. Sneak back in to school the next day smelling and tasting the ocean on his skin. It wasn't great, but Billy wasn't seeing the front end of a fist every day.

And now everything, everything was fucked. Max did something wrong? Billy's fault. Susan fucked up, eh. Less Billy's fault, but somehow still Billy's fault.

He didn't want to lower his eyes and say 'yes sir' or 'thank you sir' every time his dad gut punched him. He didn't want to fucking be in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana.

But here he was, sitting on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette, watching the town's crowned pretty boy strutting around campus like he was something.

And Billy hated him.

He hated him for his easy charm. For his friends. For his social status. Billy hated Steve for how easy life came to him despite what a fucking loser he was. He hated him for his family, and everything that entailed. He hated Steve for the privilege he inherently had, and for the privilege that fucking rich, do-good represented.

Billy bet, watching as Steve did that ridiculous greeting with the kid with the lisp, that he'd had never had to withstand an adults punch before. Never really had the shit beat out of him aside from their own entanglements.

A gross, twisted kind of pride welled up in Billy at the thought. Between the two of them, Billy was the survivor here.

"King." Billy spat, grinding the butt of his cig beneath his boot.

A joke. An undeserved title that had come easily to someone who'd never been challenged. Never fought for it. Never earned it.

Steve Harrington was everything this town expected; unassuming, handsome - but not too much, smart with just enough smartass, a ladies man with just enough strikeouts to still be a good boy.

Too much smartass. Billy grinned as Steve finally noticed the eyes on him; gave a middle finger salute.

Harrington was what this town was used to. But Hargrove, Billy knew, was what this town needed. A real king. A real man

If Steve Harrington was their still waters, Billy fucking Hargrove was going to be their hurricane.

He was going to fuck their wives and eat out their daughters. He was going to make every woman in town scream his name. Every shady drug dealer would know his number, every gas station lowlife would memorize the sound of his car. He would be the man the other men in this town wouldn't dare stand up to.

Billy Hargrove wasn't just going to rule the school, no. That was petty bullshit for losers who peaked in their teens like Harrington. Hargrove was going to rule the whole damn town.

And Steve would be front and center for every moment Hargrove stole another piece of Hawkins out from under his nose. And Billy was going to relish it, he was going to-

"Yeah?"

Billy looked down at Steve, feeling just as confused as the idiot looked.

He wasn't sure exactly when he'd crossed the tarmac to pin the fucker. A quick survey noted his little loser friends, and Max, were there with him.