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"...and we wish you a pleasant flight." michael heard the last words of an annoying air hostess with a terrible british accent. he combed his hair with his long, skinny fingers and tried to fall asleep. a very long, boring flight to new york was about to begin.
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meanwhile, eleven just woke up, lazily rubbing her eyes. lucas and max came back late last night, which wasn't really a big surprise for her. these two just loved to have fun and spend time together.
eleven heard loud knocking to her bedroom door. "come in!" she shouted.
the person behind the door was obviously max. her one and only female friend. the one, who could light up some of her days. she really didn't know what would she do without her. her long, wavy red hair was falling on her shoulders and her dark dress till her knees was really matching her look. she looked really beautiful. eleven always had been jealous of her unusual beauty type. everything about her seemed so joyful and perfect. even little things, like, her bright eyes or freckles.
maxine smiled at the sight of sleepy eleven. "it's already 10 am, you sleepyhead!" a small, weak shadow of a smile appeared on el's face, but it flew away as soon as it appeared. max sat on el's bed and looked at her, waiting for a response.
"i know, i know. i really couldn't sleep last night. by the way, you two were really loud when you came back." she rolled her eyes ironically and looked at her embarrassed friend.
max scratched her neck and nodded. "yeah... i guess. lucas can be, um, like, really funny, y'know" she started, but eleven gently touched her shoulder, causing her to stop talking. "it's fine, max. but I still don't know how you two get along after all these fights..." she said and giggled. "no, but seriously. i am truly really happy for you."
her friend gratefully nodded and stood up. "so, ready for some blueberry pancakes?" max asked, grabbing el's hand and pulling her into their small kitchen.
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new york, 2:36 pm, november 7, 1989.
mike finally got off the plane. now he should just look for some taxi outside this huge airport and try to get to the hotel his boss booked for him. seems easy, but not for mike, who was really tired and would like to do something else. like, stay in hawkins, in his old apartment and moody granny as a neighbor, for example. he nervously tapped his fingers on the old suitcase covered with many stickers from his parents' journeys.
"good afternoon, sir." he heard a man's deep voice when he sat on the leather seat. "good afternoon." he murmured reluctantly. he really had gaven up on being nice.
