Daydream // Byler

Self Sabotage

TW: Mention of SH.

★ ★ ★ ★

Will Byers ruined everything.

He ruined friendships and relationships. He ruined hope and opportunities. He ruined families and trust bonds. He even ruined his own birthday. There was nothing he could keep for more than two seconds, and it was all his fault. Sometimes he felt that, if he hadn't been born, everyone would be happy. They would be so, so much better off without him.

Everything he did from the beginning of the end to a new chapter felt like an odd fever dream - it was always the drive to school with his older brother, Jonathan, then it was walking to his first period, spending breaks in the art room, and then home again, as soon as possible. Anything that happened to break that routine would get on Will's nerves.

He had been so, so tired of being treated like he was some sort of baby, so tired of being walked on and ignored, that, one day, at some point, something inside of him just snapped. And no, it wasn't the bones he had broken when he ran away two evenings later, or his heart when his dad outed him. It was his limit, and everyone around him had pushed him over the edge. Will stopped caring about being left behind.

Still, with his life crashing and burning around him, Will still managed to stay at the top of all of his classes. He couldn't remember - amidst his foggy memory - ever slipping or failing in the slightest. He would never settle for second best, or anything below the first place. Being average sounded like a corrupt nightmare to him, because all the awards and special mentions, all the "congratulations!" and top grades, meant the world to him.

And - if he were to fail - Will didn't think he'd ever, ever recover. He'd simply fall apart. It baffled him that some people didn't even try, didn't even attempt to ace all of their tests, didn't loose their fucking minds if the score on that test they studied weeks for didn't have a '100/100' neatly written on the front. He'd always scoff at that thought, because who would love them if they weren't the topmost best in everything? No one, that's the answer.

And then the sun came up, and light was shining through the gaps in Will's window. He gave a start, bolting upwards from his sleeping position, with a lack of oxygen in his chest, and tears clinging to his cheeks. He was still panting deeply, eyes wide and hair sticking up, but made a mad reach for his nightstand, jabbing his sweaty finger at the lamp, turning it on. The warm mellow light cast shadows on his wall, and Will looked around, still dazed.

His room looked and seemed completely normal though, everything in its rightful place, and nothing out of the ordinary. Will gave a breath of relief, and, though still shaking, swung his legs out of his bed.

It was just a bad dream.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Jonathan Byers dropped his brother off at Hawkins High, and waved goodbye to him through his car window. Will gave him a weak wave back, and then turned his back on him, heading towards the school entrance, and trying not to spare a glance at the forest sat innocently nearby the school. He had spent the entirety of his summer holidays in a secluded cabin located in the Alps, and Jane had claimed that that had done something to his head.

She was wrong, of course, because there was something wrong with his head even before the family had packed their bags and boarded their flight, but Will wasn't particularly fond of correcting Jane, especially in such a matter. He hated making her worry. Will slipped in among the crowd of people streaming into school, keeping his head down. It was cold on that day, frost laced thick on the pavement, and Will had gloves on.

They were pink, and he hated them.

He would never admit that to his mother, Joyce, though, because she had so lovingly picked them out for his last birthday, though unfortunately not knowing her son very well. Now that Will looked at it, actually, she barely knew anything about him these days. Joyce Byers didn't know that her son smoked cigarettes - packet after packet actually - and she certainly she didn't know that he had thoughts of dragging a blade across his wrist.

But what Joyce didn't know wouldn't hurt her. In fact, Will had a packet of cigarettes in his jeans
pocket at that very moment, as he walked through the doors of his first lesson of the day. They sat there untouched, and Will felt that he could be driven mad with the desire to take a long, soothing puff on a fresh cigar, and vowed to open them immediately - right after the bell that signified the end of school rang.

But for now, with the teacher stood in front of the chalkboard, Will would immerse himself in work. His pen ran rapidly across the page, never even pausing for a moment, and so Will was done with his work just seconds after he had started. He allowed himself to hunch over his accomplishment, counting up the marks he would get for the advanced part, and the workings as a whole, of course.

Just then, the door swung open, and a tall boy walked in. The Professor gave him a dirty look as he did so. "Kind of you to join us, Mr Wheeler." The boy handed the woman a note without looking at her, and made his way to the only open seat, which, unfortunately, was right next to Will. The boy flashed Will a nervous smile, and Will finally took in his appearance. He was pale, and wearing black nail polish almost as dark as his hair.

His clothes were black too, and several beaded bracelets of a rainbow variety slid up and down his slim wrist. Will noted all of this as he edged away from the boy, though he seemed not to be taking the hint. He put his arm out, obviously expecting Will to shake it. "Hello, I'm Michael Wheeler - well, Mike for short, and I've been at the doctor's all morning." Will rolled his eyes, burying his face in his hands. "Gee, how fascinating. Do go on."

Despite the fact that Will was most clearly being sarcastic, this Mike guy seemed to take the feigned interest seriously. "Well, I had to get stitches because I fell off of my bike a few days ago, and the wound was bleeding like crazy. How cool, right?" When Will didn't reply, Mike shrugged and looked away, his pasty face tinting pink. He continued to sneak glances to Will every now and again, going red wherever he'd get caught, and Will felt deeply strange.

He ignored that feeling though, and instead focused on waiting for the end of class. The bell rang, and Will shot up out of his seat, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. Before he could leave though, the Professor stopped him. "Can I just have a minute of your time, Mr Byers?" The temptation to say 'no' was overwhelming, but Will settled upon giving her a strained smile, and nodding. When he sat in the chair provided for him, Will noticed that he wasn't the only person asked to stay behind.

The annoying guy (Mitch, was it?) was also huddled on a hard plastic chair, his dark hair falling into his face. Will felt himself staring, and quickly looked away, feeling guilty. The Professor smiled at the both of them, her red lips stretching out. Will surveyed her desk. There was a white mug of coffee, a stack of half-marked test papers, highlighters, pens, pencils and other things spread out on it. He particularly took note of the framed photo of a grinning blonde woman with a wedding ring on her pale finger.

It may of been Professor Dahlia's wife. It may not have. Will guessed he would never know.

"So. I don't want to waste anymore of you boys's time, so allow me to cut straight to the chase." She tilted her head towards Will, looking all agreeable and kind. "I would like you tutor Michael, William. If conditions are favourable, that is."  Will was sure that the disappointment was showing on his face, and stole a glance at Mike, only to find that the boy was already looking. Mike averted his eyes, clearly embarrassed. Well. Will couldn't exactly just say 'no,' so he didn't have much of a choice.

He took a deep breath.

"Of course...Professor Dahlia. I'll tutor..." Will bit his lip. He had completely forgotten the name of the boy sat right next to him. The boy gave him a nervous smile. "Mike. You're tutoring me?" Will rolled his eyes, and gathered up his stuff. "See you tomorrow, Professor. We'll figure things out another day. Don't wanna be late to another hour of learning, now, do I?" The Professor looked like she wanted to say something else, but Will didn't give her the chance as he stormed out.

Will supposed that he wouldn't mind ruining one potential connection. After all, it was going to be for a good cause.