I Just Want You To Know Who I Am //Byler

Chapter One: Boys don't cry

I tried to laugh about it
cover it all up with lies.
I tried to laugh about it
hiding the tears in my eyes,
'cause boys don't cry
boys don't cry

- The Cure, 1979.

Will Byers was five years old when he saw Mike Wheeler for the first time. He remembers, and will probably never forget, those frightened eyes so much like a deer's in front of a car's headlights as that child approached him with a clumsy step. He looked frightened and at the same time confident.

Will was swinging lazily on the swing that monday in mid-September, surrendering to boredom. It was his first day of kindergarten and he was in the playground all alone, lost in his childish thoughts. He was not very good at making friends, being already at that age a rather insecure child who preferred to stay hidden in a corner rather than conquer his fears or - God forbid - talk to someone.

Nevertheless that child in front of him, although he seemed to be in conflict with himself, had approached him. He was a little taller than him, pale and thin, with a long pointed nose covered in funny freckles. His black hair fell wavy down to above his ears and covered his forehead. He looked like he had a nest on his head, all tangled up, and Will remembers thinking he looked a bit ridiculous. That day he was wearing a yellow t-shirt tucked into white shorts, coloured ankle-high socks and red shoes. He was so full of life and those colours shone so brightly on him that Will felt a little dull in his second-hand brown clothes.

When Will met his eyes for the first time, as he nervously clutched the cold, hard chains of the swing, he remembers feeling a strange grip on his stomach, something that tickled him from the inside. He was thrilled.

The child now only a few steps away from him lifted a corner of his mouth, a tight-lipped smile "Hello," he extended a hand to Will, "will you be my friend?" 

Will hesitated, shifting his gaze to his open palm with curiosity. It was all so unexpected. All so...beautiful. And that, Will thought, was the first time he really felt normal, like he belonged in that world. Someone wanted to be his friend and that someone was not his brother.

Still a little surprised, he nodded his head frantically. "Yes." he said and then shook his hand. The contact with the warm palm of the boy in front of him was enough to relax every tense part of Will. His grip was a little awkward, his palm a little sweaty, and he tugged at all his heartstrings.

"I'm Mike." 

"Will. I-I'm Will." he stammered, causing Mike to break into a bemused grin. He didn't understand what he found funny about it, but automatically Will smiled back. The strange knot inside his stomach slowly began to loosen. Mike also suddenly seemed much more relaxed, and Will really thought he was going to let out a sigh of relief at any moment.

When the time came to let go of his hand, Will did so. His heart was pounding with contentment. He flexed his fingers, he could almost feel Mike's touch again.

Never before had he felt so warm inside, before he came. Why was he so warm? Why are you so warm Mike?
He didn't ask, but he wished he had. That doubt haunted him until many years later. 

"So, Will...have you ever played Dungeons and Dragons?"

After that, Will's entire world seemed to turn upside down. Everything began to revolve around Mike. His mum, Joyce, left him in front of the schoolyard on the second day, but that day it was a smile she saw on her son's lips as he got out of the car. And so it was the next day, and the day after that. In fact, Mike was always there waiting for him every morning at 8:30, with that ever-longer messy hair and those ridiculous brightly coloured t-shirts. Will smiled every time he saw him, as if he couldn't help himself. He was just...so ridiculous. He was just happy to have a friend. A friend like Mike. Because Mike, even as a child, was capable of making his days better. Always. No matter how bad they were, often due to some older child teasing him, because Mike was always there for him. With him. Often becoming a target himself, just to defend him. This always warmed Will's heart a little more. Mike, though, didn't call himself brave, didn't call himself a hero...but well for Will he was. Just by existing, Mike made him happy. He was so grateful for having him. For being his friend. For the fact that he had chosen him, of all people, that day.