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Chapter 58, My Brother's Keeper (Ep. 2: The Vanishing of Holly Wheeler)
FEBRUARY, 1986
When a shooting star crosses the night sky, wishes emerge from within the vault of hope. As if it were a prayer, the words were whispered and held with the sweet delicacy of longing. Faith was placed upon this phenomenon as if it were a religion, because what more could people hold on to?
If wishes were meant to be just childhood myths, then was it worth it to offer one's heart to the stars?
For the longest time, Steve Harrington refused to believe in something as mindless as superstition. The way he saw it, trivial matters like shooting stars and wishes didn't make sense. Wishes were mere longings meant to remain hidden, so praying the words to the sky was a pure depiction of madness.
A realist, some might say, or perhaps he was a rather somber individual. To each their own, but to him, it was practicality. If he didn't succumb to fairytales, then he wouldn't suffer the disappointment over its falseness, and so for many years, he soared through the truth with his head held high and with a sharpened tongue.
Everything had been ideal for the longest time.
But then, she arrived.
Like a shooting star, a girl with brown locks and eyes the shade of the most remarkable blue crossed the night sky. Like a small angel carrying hope on her shoulders, Gwen Henderson emerged from the ashes and outshone every possible phenomenon. Trivial matters were upheld by her hands with the utmost esteem. To her, the smallest things were of high importance, so like a devoted disciple, he started to believe.
If fairytales were meant for the insane, then he would embrace madness for an eternity.
But things were never that simple.
Disdain was given for countless years. They hated, cursed their names, pleaded for salvation against the other, but what they never counted on was being offered salvation through the links of the heart and soul.
It seemed wishes on shooting stars were the honest gospel after all. For it was their hands that reached for absolution and gripped onto the other with firmness.
Like many say, it was destiny.
The thing with destiny was that chapters were often written with painful words. Scriptures were cursed and sealed with verses that expressed discontent. Some were meant for happy stories while others for tragedy.
And it just happened that tragedy struck the story of Steve Harrington and Gwen Henderson.
Christmas Day of 1985 had been the first of many drops to spill. Their promise to always remain together and never run had been broken. For a while, he blamed himself for their breakup. He believed he could have done more and been there for her like a boyfriend should have, but it was his blinded bliss that brought their paths to become parallel.
