𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 [Stranger Things x Billy Hargrove]

// twenty four //

"Yeah, the real world sucks, deal with it like the rest of us." - Jonathan

The morning sun filtered through my bedroom window, casting long streaks of golden light across the room. My bed was a mess of tangled sheets, a stark contrast to the clean, minimalist look I'd tried to maintain before everything fell apart. The air in the room felt heavy, like it hadn't been properly aired out in months—probably because it hadn't.

I sighed, throwing off the covers, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor was cool against my feet, grounding me for a moment before I pushed myself to stand. I walked over to my closet, the creak of the old door echoing in the quiet room, and rifled through the hangers until I found something that felt like me. Or, at least, the version of me I was trying to reclaim.

I settled on a faded black band tee, its logo barely visible after years of wear and tear, and a pair of ripped jeans that clung to my legs in all the right places. I paired them with my trusty leather jacket, the one I'd saved up for months to buy. It was scratched and scuffed from countless nights out, but it still made me feel invincible whenever I wore it. I slipped on a pair of black ankle boots, their chunky heels adding a little height, and ran a hand through my short, tousled hair.

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror was a far cry from the girl I used to be, but that was the point. I wasn't that girl anymore, and I didn't want to be. The old me had been lost in the chaos, but this version—this harder, more guarded version—was what I needed to survive.

The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, the scent of stale coffee hanging in the air. The linoleum floors creaked beneath my boots, a reminder of how old and worn everything in this place had become. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, taking one last look around the kitchen. The chipped counters, the mismatched chairs, the stack of unpaid bills on the table—it all felt so suffocating. I needed to get out, to breathe, to find something that wasn't tainted by the past.

Stepping outside, the late summer heat hit me like a wave, the sun already high in the sky. The streets of Hawkins were quiet, save for the distant hum of lawnmowers and the occasional bark of a dog. It was almost eerie, this calm, as if the town itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

I slid on my aviator sunglasses, the tinted lenses darkening the world around me as I made my way to the Starcourt Mall.

* * *

The mall was already buzzing with life when I arrived, the bright neon lights and polished tiles giving it an almost surreal feel. Kids and teens darted around with bags in hand, couples strolled past storefronts, and the air was filled with the sound of pop music blaring from the speakers overhead. The scent of freshly baked pretzels and popcorn drifted through the air, making my stomach growl despite the knot of anxiety sitting in it.