we both matter, don't we? | stranger things

2. Much Needed Advice

Reason number 3 why Hawkins loves Freddy's Tunes; therapy is too expensive.

The people of Hawkins have issues - lots of them. Whether their nightmares are related to the Curse or not, the citizens long for a release of emotions, and someone to talk to. Someone who will listen, someone who will give advice, and someone who will keep their secrets as if they were their own.

But most of Hawkins doesn't believe in therapy, so that someone is the girl with mismatched socks. Because, after all, she has a gift.

Under the counter, she organises today's lollipops and trinkets which will help her in case specific people visit; two tapes, a magazine, an aspirin, and two cupcakes. What will be playing today: ABBA.

First customer of the day; Jim Hopper, Chief of Police.

Freddie and Hopper have an interesting dynamic. He used to be friends with her uncle, so when he died, Hopper decided to keep an eye on the girl. He helped her figure out the whole adult thing. And, honestly, Hopper might have helped her out of legal trouble a few times.

It doesn't take a shrink to know Hopper lost a daughter.

She died of cancer when she was young, and the Chief has never been the same. Drinking, drugging himself, weeping. And now that he's involved in the Curse of Hawkins, the pain is sometimes too heavy to carry. But, lucky for him, a certain strange "russian" girl with powers keeps him company without Hawkins noticing.

He's told Freddie he has a daughter, but he hasn't told her she's Hawkins' cryptid.

—Hoppy, I got something for your kid! —Freddie's quick to announce, bringing out the magazine from under her counter, —It's for teens, she's, what, fourteen already? —

The Chief smiles, grabbing it, —Yeah, actually, she grew up fast. —quietly skimming through the pages, he raises his eyebrows, —You've been up to good lately? —

She smiles, —Not really, robbed a few banks this week. You? —

—Well... —he groans, —I'm very close to fighting a fourteen year old. —

Freddie leans back on her chair, ready to hear his rant. She loves when people rant. —Wheeler? —

—It's just... Ugh! —Hopper takes off his hat, running his hand through his hair, —He's annoying, he's like- like- putting her against me! They gossip, and laugh, and make little jokes right in my face without any respect. I wasn't like them at fourteen! —

She nods, —You were worse. —

Hopper tries defending himself, but he rolls his eyes, —A little bit. But it's different. I mean, you weren't like this at their age, were you? —

—I didn't have friends at their age, Chief. —

—Agh! —he walks around a bit, stressed. Freddie finds it entertaining - he's making it bigger than it is. —What should I do? —

Freddie shrugs, with a plan already in her mind, —Well, personally, I'm not a mother or anything. And I'm not like Jane. So honestly I'd recommend you talk to Joyce. —when he stops, she notices a hint of a blush. Jackpot. —Mother of two, had some fun in her teens. Great listener. And you two are good friends, right? Maybe you could... Hang out... While figuring it out... Right? —

Hopper looks at the girl, with his hands on his hips, in disbelief. —Why, did she say anything about me? —

—No, but you talk a lot about her, man. I don't need to read your mind. —

He nods, in silence, walking over to the counter. Fred is quick to hand him a lollipop, and he saves it in his pocket. —I'll... I'll go talk to Joyce, then. Before I kill the little shit. —