dollywheeler

[dollywheeler]

October 17th, 1996

Dear diary,

The day I finally got my license, I left Hawkins for the first time on my own.

Taken by the illusion of independence, of freedom, and a joy for the leather steering wheel in my hands, I’d followed the widest road out of the town and driven for miles.

I didn’t get far by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t think I really wanted to. The moments the forests started thinning, houses populating the roads, I tried to steer away, tried to curve around the town and stick to the back roads, searching the feeling of tar-covered oblivion. It never felt satisfying enough, the roads never stretching far enough, my heart fluttering with a need to drive until my head was completely blank, until it was nothing but the never-ending trees and the tape playing over the car speakers.

I never quite got there. My mind has always been too crowded, notoriously hard to shut of, and even as I yearned to disappear over the horizon, to drive and drive for hours on end until I could physically feel my independence, my eyes kept darting to the dashboard, counting and calculating, always keeping track how long it would take for me to get back home.

I’d made it forty minutes before I came to a stop at a diner a little outside of Guthrie, an establishment far enough out of town that it looked like a lighthouse nestled between the trees. It was newer than the one in Hawkins, which still held the same wooden booths with dark green cushions and lamp shades dusted gold with age as when it had been built in ’39. This one was clean and unscathed, either built or renovated in the fifties or sixties, with neon lights that had to have been recently replaced judging by their shine, and walls painted in a fresh coat of mint green.

I’d sat down in one of the boots by the window, the place quiet except for the regulars that probably spent every Tuesday night there, and tried to take in the fact that I was out in the world for the first time.

We’d gone to Indianapolis before of course, either for a shopping spree or a visit to grandma while she’d still been alive, but that had always been with one or both of my parents. The farthest we’ve gone was a few holidays at Lake Monroe. Nancy and Mike used to come along when I was really little, but once he became a teenager, Mike refused to go.

After a few years of waiting for him to change his mind, dad finally decided Mike could just stay home on his own - of course, by then Nancy was already gone, so it was just the three of us. She’d tried to come during the weekends sometimes but could never stay long enough. I always liked how peaceful it was - just me, mom, and dad - but we never went for more than a week anyway. Mom and dad don’t like traveling much, and I think I’m starting to understand why.

Even glancing out the windows at the sugar maples, for all intents and purposes the same forest as the one surrounding Hawkins, I couldn’t help but feel out of place. My skin itched with discomfort, longing for the mint cushions to deepen into the dark green of the diner in Hawkins, for the faces sitting at the bar to become familiar.

A boy with warm acorn skin and soft eyes came up to me then, stilling my fidgeting hands around the menu. Wielding a notepad in front of him, his smile was bright and genuine as he asked for my order. Caught of guard, I rattled of my usual, and shouldn’t have been surprised that they served it. Nothing more exotic than coffee with sugar.

I watched the boy as he smiled before turning back to the counter, heading behind it to grab a cup and the carafe. The ease behind his eyes as he went through the motions distracted me from my own thoughts, falling into auto-pilot myself as I observed him, trailing his path from across the diner back to my table. He was nice to watch, calming somehow; the confidence in his posture intriguing, soothing, like a buoy in an ocean. I managed to smile in thanks as finished pouring my mug and left some packets of sugar, and with a glance at the other patrons - still quiet and content - he slid into the seat across from me.

I was strangely grateful, my nerves from being in the strange environment finally settling. Being outside of Hawkins itched at my skin, more so than usual now I was alone, like I’d stepped into another world rather than just another town. It wasn’t hostile territory by a long shot - especially not if everyone here were to have eyes as brown as the boy in front of me - but it felt wrong, a longing for home nestling under my sternum.

He introduced himself, and to this day I don’t know where he got the nerve, the ease with which he’d started the conversation. Now I’m starting to think I should have guessed all along - he was on his home turf, comfortable in his kingdom, eager to offer comfort to a girl so clearly out of her element.

When he’d move to Hawkins a months later, he’d be wrong-footed, surrounded by the unknown and the unexpected, always on guard. Here he was just a boy, smiling brightly at me until my heart rate was beating a waltz instead of a tango. We got to talking, about his town and mine, congratulating me on my license, and laughing in hushed whispers about the stories he could tell about the patrons still seated around the diner, whom he had to get up to tend to periodically.

It was long dark by the time I finally had to get up, way over my self-imposed curfew, having missed dinner in favor of sharing a basket of fries with Daniel. Somehow I got brave enough to ask if I’d see him around sometime, if he worked here often, but it had been his last week he’d said, would be wrapping up the school year and moving later that month, and the magical bubble popped, depositing me back into reality.

He was just a stranger, a kind one but a stranger nonetheless, and despite my earlier regret for having left Hawkins, I’d started daydreaming of weekly treks up the road. I’d hidden my disappointment well, instead feigning interest in where he would be moving to, heart skipping a beat when he responded with a familiar name.

The second time I saw him, the cheer squad was settling down in the diner, blindly finding our way to our usual table, distracted by each other. It was only when he stood at our table to take our order that I looked up at him, stunned into silence at the shy smile on his lips, the almost unrecognizable posture that spoke of uncertainty, off-key in his movements, like everyone had moved the furniture an inch to the left. The tables had turned.

And now as I’m watching him I can’t help but smile, reminded of the Danny I first met. He’s become more comfortable, more familiar with the space he’s inhabiting, and he wears it well. Even better - now, whenever he has a chance to breathe in between orders, his eyes are back to catching mine from across the room, smile wider than ever, confident and warm. It makes it all worth it - just sitting here at the bar, wasting my time at the diner in an attempt to spend some time with him. At least it allowed me to get our first meeting written down, to immortalise it on paper even if it was months ago now. Even if it means I have to stay up late to catch up on my homework.

At least Mike’s homework is easy enough to do in the diner even with all the distractions - we’re moving onto poetry so Mike gave us a bundle of poems to read by Monday. The fireside poets were fun enough, but I’m trudging my way through “song of myself” at the moment and though I really liked the first few sections, it’s getting too long and I can’t stay focused. I might just read the Emily Dickinson ones for now and keep the rest of Whitman for tomorrow. Or not tomorrow, as I'll be at Mike and Will's all afternoon. Saturday then.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler #will byers

[dollywheeler]

October 15th, 1996

Dear diary,

Mrs. Benson said something strange yesterday. We were taking a short walk around the neighborhood - per her doctor’s orders to get her moving again - when we passed Mike and Will’s place. It was already dark out, so the house was lit up, the lights spilling out of the many windows and the skylights over the hall. There were thin curtains pulled over the windows for privacy - which was definitely a necessity in a house like this or we’d be able to follow everything going on inside like it’s a doll house. Even like this we’d probably be able to see silhouettes moving like shadow puppets if anyone were to pass the window.

We were just walking past when Mrs. Benson’s eyes caught onto the building as well. The start of the high school basketball season managed to pull attention away from the town’s “new” arrivals, and most people’s conversations have moved on from the return of Mike Wheeler and Will Byers, so it was a bit of a surprise when Mrs. Benson mentioned it again. Just a throw-away line about how time was changing or something. I'll never understand people's weird fascination with the concept of "two young men" - seriously people keep referring to them as such as if they haven't known their names since they were toddlers - moving in together. It's like they've never heard of the concept of sharing rent.

Mrs. Benson said something about Mrs. Chatham further up the street being quite upset about Mike and Will moving into the house - apparently she'd been close to the previous owners or something, said it was a "waste of a beautiful house". I was kind of zoning out as cheer practice had been brutal but it struck me as weird. I mean I get where Mrs. Chatham was coming from - I also think it would be a beautiful home for children to grow up in - but so is her house and she's been living there alone for the last fifteen years.

Anyway, Mrs. Benson tried asking me questions about Mike and Will again but I've been very dismissive whenever anyone asks. Partially because everyone's disproportionate level of intrigue is kind of freaky, but I guess I also just don't really feel comfortable talking about them yet because they expect me to be some kind of expert when I'm clearly not. I still barely know anything, and I already felt awkward enough explaining to Dylan why I barely know Mike.

Which is another reason I'm looking forward to Friday - I talked to Mike as planned and he agreed to learn Champagne Supernova. I wonder how much more information I can get out of Mike and Will without mom around - surely they'll talk more, maybe even share some juicier college stories. I did manage to get a dinner invitation for mom as well but she'll just be coming for dinner while I'll be going home with Mike and Will straight after school. That should be a big enough window to get some secrets out of them.

I can hear dad getting up so I'll have to go up to breakfast soon. Morning cheer practice is getting redundant now I can only practice the choreo. I might go on a run instead tomorrow. I really should focus on tumbling, but I also don't want to break my promise to Mike. Especially as he has a point - it is dangerous to do it on my own. I'll have to come up with a solution.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #will byers #byler #been struggling trying to give you guys more info on Hawkins' reaction to Byler's return and this particular entry eluded me for a long tim

[dollywheeler]

I'm LOVING this story sm and that's saying a lot cuz I'm not really a fan of au's where it takes place in the character's future if that makes sense idk how to explain it but this ! THIS! I adore this sm. Your writing got me HOOKED. the way Holly's just being a teenage girl and navigating through that and her similarities with her siblings i just ugh I love it so much

it's such a fun freeing read that's the best I can explain it without going on a tangent HAHA N E WAYS keep up the fantastic work and I can't wait to see more ! lots of love 💕

Honestly I fully get you! I usually don't like 3rd party POVs OR established relationship fics so this is a weird combo for me to write 😂 and also why i'm so baffled this many people enjoy my little self-indulgent project. There's just something about the combo of 3rd POV and ER that does it for me. (also me finally getting to share my perfect little Byler world)

Happy you're enjoying it!

#ask #kyezblog #ooc

[dollywheeler]

I really love this story and where it's going so far!! Every time I see there's a new update I get so excited, it's such a good concept!! And I love how Holly's character keeps growing and how we learn more about her as time goes on! I also genuinely didn't expect to be so invested in Holly and Daniel's relationship but they're so cute! And I'm really excited for when Holly realizes whats actually going on between Mike and Will, though I expect that'll take some more time.

This got long again, but I'm just obsessed with this fic, you're doing a great job!!!

Always so lovely to read people's feedback!

Someone commented on the last update that Holly was basically Emma Woodhouse/Cher from Clueless and HONESTLY SO REAL.

I've written down the Daniel x Holly meetcute a while ago and am just waiting for a way to integrate it naturally so i'm happy you like them 👀 Holly really wasn't supposed to have a boyfriend yet, as in my original vision for this universe Byler was older (and already had a kid before coming back to Hawkins 👀) and Holly was in college, but I really liked Kidfic!Holly's view on that relationship and I wanted to explore it more in this version now she's still a teenager. IDK I wanted her to have the perfect High School sweethearts trope (aka what Nancy thought she wanted in s1) but have it not be the typical cliché either. they're just good kids that go well together <3

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #ooc #ask #imsozorii

[dollywheeler]

October 13th, 1996

Dear diary,

Mrs. Benson’s hip is acting up again so most of my - admittedly already limited - free time has been going to helping her out with chores and groceries. I really don’t mind - Mrs. Benson is sweet and always has a fun story to tell - but the timing is kind of a bummer.

Mike asked me over to allow me to practice guitar together - apparently the guitar in their den is a new one Will got him for his birthday a few years back, but he still has the old one he learned to play on lying around upstairs. So after class on Wednesday, he suggested learning a song together. Of course, I jumped on the opportunity to get to practice more, but as I’ve basically spent all weekend at Mrs. Benson’s, I haven’t gotten a chance to set a date yet. Mom tried to convince me that she could bring over the extra meals herself, but I genuinely do enjoy helping her out, and I’m the only one who knows how to get her to admit she needs more help.

Last time, mom went to deliver her meals three days in a row because I had extra cheer practice, and it’s only when I finally went over again that I could convince her to admit she’d been needing some more lemon drops for her throat. I mean, I know it’s not life-threatening but still. I worry less when I go myself. Besides, I like the walk, even if it’s just down the street. It’s peaceful.

Tuesday evening, I’m babysitting again, so I’ll hopefully get the chance to practice as I usually do, but it would have been great if I’d have an idea as to what song we’re learning at least, so I can get a head start. I kind of want to learn Champagne Supernova because it’s my favorite song at the moment, but I don’t know if Mike likes that kind of music - I mean, he didn’t even recognise the Pixies!

Will at least knows how to appreciate music - he’s been playing the tape I copied on loop in class all week! I’ll probably just go ask Mike after class tomorrow what song we're doing.

Whitney’s already been bugging us about Halloween as well, trying to coordinate outfits for Melissa’s yearly Halloween party. I still think it would be cool to go dressed as the Hocus Pocus witches - at least it’s still somewhat tied to Halloween! - but Dylan and Whitney really want to go as Clueless. I suggested Heathers instead but they thought it was boring. I mean I don’t disagree - I’m not particularly fond of Heathers either, but it’s slightly more interesting and bloody than Clueless. Also, how do you even dress up as clueless??? I’m clueless about THAT.

Anyway, there’s plenty of time still. Maybe I’ll ask Will for advice, though I doubt he’d know as the party were boys and there were four of them.

Maybe I can wriggle out of this years triple costume if I tell them I want to do a couple’s costume with Daniel. Then we could do Bonnie and Clyde or something. Not the most creative but still fun. I don’t want to just ditch them… but with everything going on I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time with Daniel outside of school, so I genuinely do want to spend Halloween with him. I know the girls will understand that at least :)

I did see him once when I went to grab food from the diner - Mrs. Benson was craving their fries - and it was definitely the highlight of my weekend - or at least a close second to finally beating Mrs. Benson at blackyack :P There’s just something about seeing him - and the way his eyes light up when he sees me - that makes my heart settle. I seriously can’t describe it, but it’s like a jolt of electricity that recharges me for the rest of the day.

If they are so set on Clueless maybe I can get Daniel dressed as the stepbrother - I don’t remember his name but you know the one. (Seriously why am I the only one who finds that movie weird?)

Everything’s getting a big hectic at the moment but basically, current to-do list:

Talk to Mike about a song choice - preferably tomorrow after class so I can -

Practice the song before meeting up with Mike.

Set up a date to go over to Mike and Will’s.

Maybe wriggle in another dinner invite for mom as well.

Research more costume ideas. Ask people for advice - Will, Mike, Daniel, etc

Finish paper on The Crucible.

Ace Biology test.

Find some time to spend with Daniel

Pray this list doesn’t get longer.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #byler #fanfic #st

[dollywheeler]

Right now this is my fav tumblr fic! I love your version of Holly sooo much and she's so funny n sweet. Her interactions with Byler is sooo entertaining cuz I just picture this teenage girl sideeying Mike in her internal dialog, but then getting to know Mike more and being like "my bro's okay I guess" lol

Her diary is amazing!

🩷🩷🩷🩷

I always kind of imagine Holly bouncing with excited energy whenever she’s thinking back on her interactions with Byler (especially Will) but then playing it cool in her diary. Because it’s whatever and she doesn’t really care especially if he doesn’t and she basically an adult and doesn’t need a big brother anyway

Though during the interactions themselves she’s definitely better at schooling her emotions than Mike “yeah! Cool - cool. *eager nod*” Wheeler 😂 mostly because she’s very unsure and cautious when it comes to talking to people and especially new people - which sadly includes Mike and Will atp.

It does help that she constantly reminds herself that she’s mad at Mike anyway, and Wheelers aren’t naturally affectionate/good with emotion, but she’s starting to see the potential of Mike being back in Hawkins

She’s great and I love her and I’m glad you do too!

#ask #ooc #foodiewithdahoodie

[dollywheeler]

I am really love the story and getting to know Holly. She is so different from her siblings but so similar. Mike and Nancy are more similar to each other than I recently thought. I am am wondering what will happen when Holly finds outs Mike and Will are with each other romantically and if she will finds out about the past. You know what they say about “roommates.” I think Karen and Ted know, that is probably apart of the reason their relationship is so weird and tense. When Holly start exploring the house I was sure she was gonna find a one bedroom Mike and Will share. I am looking forward to seeing Mike and Will developing relationships with Holly. I loved the guitar scene and the alien. Happy Friday :).

Oh Holly would have found more than one bedroom if she'd gone snooping, don't you worry. This is their forever home after all 😉

Holly is smart but it will be a while still before she figures it out, I'm afraid... 😏

I'm really happy you're enjoying the story!

#ask #anonymous #ooc

[dollywheeler]

October 7th, 1996

Dear diary,

Will gave us back our assignments today and he really liked it! I can't help but feel like his opinion is biased though, which is kind of a bummer. I mean, I'm glad that I got a good grade and I'm proud of it so I feel like it deserves the grade it got, but... I don't know. I feel like it would have been more satisfying if it had been graded by someone who hadn't spent Friday night fondueing marshmallows with me at his own dinner table.

Same happens in English now - I always take pride in my essays, but it's hard not to worry that Mike's taking it easy on me, even when he said he wouldn't.

At least I gave Will the copy of Morning Glory after we already got our grades back because that would have been even more damning. Which is exactly why I waited until lunch to pass by his classroom and hand over the tape I'd made as promised, away from prying eyes. Danny walked with me - I'd told him all about our dinner on Saturday over the phone - and in hindsight I probably should have known to expect Mike would be there as well.

They were having lunch together at Will's desk, and through the window I could see them startle as we knocked, but quickly smiled and waved us in when they noticed it was me. As soon as we stepped into the classroom I could tell that Mike was sizing up Danny, even though he already knows him from his English class, and knows he's perfectly smart and polite. He didn't say anything and his expression didn't give anything away as he shifted his attention back to me.

I have to say it's kind of weird having that kind of ... consideration? It's sounds strange and might not make sense but... I've never had a brother before - not like that at least. As annoyed as I want to be over him scrutinizing my life - which he still has no business doing by the way and if he even tries to meddle I will strangle him - it feels nice to have someone watching out for me.

Not that I need protecting from Daniel of all people - he's the sweetest, most considerate boy I know. He's always smiling and it's genuine. I've never met anyone who seems so genuinely happy and kind at all times. It's kind of amazing to see.

But anyway, I gave him the tape and after he'd thanked me I just had to ask Mike if he'd seen the painting Will had made in class.

He'd given us this new assignment - we're back on paint, thank god - and Will had used the projector to show us some new techniques we could try out. He'd started drawing a face from memory and it slowly became obvious that it was Mike - or well, Mr. Wheeler for everyone else in the class. He paused and blinked for a second and then he added antennae and turned him into an alien, making everyone laugh. I don't even think he'd realised what he'd been drawing until he'd seen the whole picture, turning him into an alien to make fun and distract everyone. I wish I could draw like that though - just get lost in a trance and see where my mind ends up. I feel like it would help clear up a messy mind.

Anyway, after he was done with the sketch and actually got around to showcasing the paint techniques - using blues and greens to stick to the alien theme - it actually turned out really cool.

As expected, Will squirmed in embarrassment as I brought up the painting but he pulled it out for Mike and Danny who of course thought it funny as well. And seriously, Will is crazy talented - even this silly five minute painting was insanely well done.

We talked for a while, but Daniel and I still had to get lunch so eventually we had to join the others in the cafeteria.

By the time we got to seventh period English, Mike had hung up the painting in his classroom. He even had a frame for it and everything!

Seriously, where did he get that thing on such short notice?

Love, Holly

#slower updates because i have exams for two more weeks #holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #will byers #byler #fanfic

[dollywheeler]

October 6th, 1996

2nd of October, 1996

Dear Will and Mike,

Buenos Diaz! Greetings from Spain!

The weather is amazing here even though it is already fall, which is good because Barcelona is the most beautiful outside; The beach is much more beautiful than in San Francisco or New York, and there's a park so colorful I never wanted to leave. It is very warm, however, but that only means we can spend more time on the beach!

The food is the best I've ever had! Dustin promised we could do tapas night with the whole party when we're back, but it probably won't be as good. You know they eat OCTOPUS? I don't think there are octopi in Indiana. Dustin says they have them frozen but that seems cruel. I do think Lucas could learn to make Paella so maybe that's a safer option. Max would like it.

I hope you enjoy school!

Kisses, El and Dustin!

#the third wheeler #stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #dustin henderson #platonic henderhop

[dollywheeler]

October 4th, 1996

Dear diary,

We survived the night!

At first, when Mike opened the door for us, it was as awkward and uncomfortable as I’d feared. Mike was clearly nervous, which I found stranger than mom responding in kind, seemingly clutching to basic courtesy and manners as they landed on polite chatter about the weather. As if it’s ever anything other than dreadful in the beginning of fall.

I understand why mom was nervous, knew she wanted tonight to go well, but Mike was the one in control - he shouldn’t have been just as anxious, worrying about mom’s opinion. He’d already proven that he is capable of burning every bridge if he has to.

I stayed quiet as we crossed the threshold; I didn’t want to fall into the same pretense of everything being normal, and wouldn't have known what to say even if I did. Instead, I distracted myself by looking at the decor as Mike lead us further into the house. I’d never known there to be any developments in the neighborhood, but the house had clearly been a newer built than I’d expected. If I’d have to guess, I’d say late seventies, judging by the wide spaces and high ceilings. There was no divide between the entrance hall and the living room to the left, a set of stairs against the right wall climbing up to a second floor landing that overlooked the space beneath. The ceiling above the entrance and living room was made up of glass, as was visible from the street, the skylight tilting up until it meets the roof above the second floor. I had to admit it must look lovely during the day - or with the lights out at night - though I wouldn't want to be the one cleaning them.

The floor-to-ceiling windows facing the streets were partially covered by shrubbery and had tasteful white curtains that were left open for now, the glass reflecting the scene back to them and somehow making the lighting appear more cosy.

The furniture was minimalistic - clean wooden lines and modern sofas fitting the style of the house itself - and though the space was clean now, I could tell it's usually covered in clutter. The strip of wall that somewhat separated the hallway from the lounge was covered in picture frames, some holding snapshots of Mike’s time in Chicago, others showcasing Will’s artwork. I even spotted some old drawings above the fireplace that surely had to be from when they were kids. The outside wall was taken up by massive wooden shelves, covered in books and knick-knacks. It seemed empty now, but I’m pretty sure that’s due to the recent move, free surfaces they intended to fill up over the years to come.

The lounge, where Will met us with drinks and told us to sit down, was in the same room as the dining table, and in the back I could see a corner that led to the kitchen. though the kitchen itself was out of sight, I could see a small breakfast nook in the corner. Just like everything else, it was surprisingly cosy and intimate.

It seriously makes me wonder how long they intend to live there. It seemed surprisingly put together for a bachelor pad. Then again, not everything is like the movies, so I might just have to readjust my assumptions.

I didn't really tune in for most of the conversation, which was as awkward and stilted as I'd expected. Mom kept asking questions, and Mike kept answering almost reluctantly, as if he was seriously struggling to respond to to the most basic of inquiries about he and Will had been up to in Chicago. Honestly, one should rethink ever giving him an English diploma if he has this much trouble stringing a sentence together.

Will cut in a few times with updates on his family, which was a lot less awkward because mom had been keeping up with Mrs. Byers and thus could more easily contribute to the conversation. It was quite strange, even as we actually sat down at the table and they started directing more questions at me.

Surprisingly, Mike had actually cooked himself. Mom was quick to reassure him the food was good and the house was nice and all of that but it felt... weird, somehow. I didn't feel natural, even though she definitely wasn't lying, like she was afraid to say anything less. Meanwhile, Mike just looked more tense with every comment, as if he could sense it too. Will seemed to be the only one even the slightest bit relaxed, being quick to pick up conversation when either Mike or mom got stuck, trying to smoothe over the awkwardness to the best of his abilities. They kept bringing the conversation back to me, asking about school and friends and hobbies, but whenever mom and I tried to ask about them, it got weird again, dodging questions and dancing around the subject.

By the time we finished the main course I needed a break - couldn't stomach the weird energy anymore. So when Will and Mike started clearing the table, I got up and started wandering around. There were French doors made of dark wood near the kitchen that lead into a sun room, clearly used as a more informal living room. there were couches set up in the corner facing the giant floor-to-ceiling windows, tilted skylights similar to the ones at the front of the house allowing natural light to fill the space.

I would have bought the house just for this room alone - Will had set up an easel in the corner where two glass-lined walls met. In the corner away from the windows, a desk was set up cluttered with papers, and folders with white corners haphazardly sticking out, a typewriter stored on the floor next to it.

More so than the rest of the house, I could imagine them living here, sharing the space on lazy Saturdays or late Sunday mornings. Hell, I could take the images from when I was five, of Mike and his party set out around the coffee table in the basement, and implant them into this room, loud and boisterous and warm.

At least in this room the smell of teen-boy could be more easily aired out.

The one thing out of a place, which both surprised and excited me to see, was a shiny acoustic guitar standing next to the couch. It was new, clearly no more than a year or two old. I picked it up and it definitely felt smoother and more expensive than the one the Stevenson's had, and more importantly, it was actually tuned correctly.

"Do you play?" Mike asked, stepping into the room right as I had tried the first few chords, making me jump. He looked amused, though there was an edge of surprise or confusion on his face.

"Do you?" I fired back, because honestly I wouldn't have thought in a million years that Mike could play as much as the triangle, if anything. I wouldn't even have thought him capable of fine motor functions in general.

"Yeah, sort of," Mike shrugged, stepping further into the room and sinking down on the sofa. He held out his hand and I reluctantly handed the guitar to him.

He started playing, and it took me a moment to recognise it as Hey Jude from The Beatles. I raised my eyebrow at him, because as much as the song was a bit of a cliché choice, he was good. He stopped after the first chorus, and held the guitar out for me. I would have thought it a challenge, but instead he just looked genuinely curious to see me try.

I caved and sat down next to him, trying not to be nervous because last time I'd only managed to get to the first verse without making any mistakes. I was quite pleased with myself once I was done, and Mike's look was thoughtful even as he was smiling.

"I know that song, but-"

"Pixies," Will said from the doorway, and we both turned to look at him in surprise. "See, Mike, why am I not surprised your little sister has better taste in music than you?"

I couldn’t help but preen at the praise - I know it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. Music is an opinion, and Will’s shouldn’t matter to me at all, and yet it felt nice to be complimented on it, as if I’d passed some kind of test. Interestingly, Mike didn't argue, just squinting his eyes at Will and sticking his tongue out like a child.

"To be fair, I've also been influenced by Jonathan," I reasoned, and told them about how Jonathan always makes me a Mixtape when Nancy and him visit. Where is my mind? was on the last one he brought when they visited in June, and just yesterday mom had picked up the new Oasis tape that Jonathan had pre-ordered for me as a late birthday present.

Will was immediately interested, coming over to sit next to Mike as he asked about my favorite song, so I let myself gush about how much I love Champagne Supernova - seriously, it's ridiculous. I've been listening to it on repeat ever since I got my hands on it.

I told Will I'd make a copy for him if he wanted, which he eagerly agreed to, but the conversation was interrupted as something moved in my peripheral vision, making me jump. It was just a cat, however, jumping onto the coffee table next to me. Startled, I ran a hand over her soft coat in awe, her big blue eyes uninterested even as she pushed into my touch.

Will, to my surprise, rolled his eyes when I asked for her name, but there was a smile on his face as he glanced towards Mike. “Her name is Cat.”

“You named your cat, “Cat”?” I asked, incredulous - because, seriously? - and Will shrugged and told me to blame Mike, who immediately gawked in affront.

“It’s short for ‘Catherine’!” Mike insisted as if that was a vital piece of information that somehow made it better.

“Mike sucks at naming things,” Will sighed as he reached out a hand to run over Cat's - Catherine's, because Cat is just too stupid - back, eyes cutting to Mike as if there was an older joke there, and to my surprise mom laughed. I hadn't noticed her come in, but she was sitting on the edge of the couch right next to the door, leaning back against the wall as she watched us with an adoring tilt of her head.

“He does,” mom agreed, fond smile curling at her lips, “what did you name Nancy’s stuffed horse again?”

Mike shrunk into himself, clearly embarrassed. “Neigh-nay is a perfectly acceptable name. As is Catherine!”

As if agreeing with him, Catherine jumped away from my petting and crossed the space into Mike's lap as he started scratching behind her ears. Mom laughed again, loud and deep and happy, and the sight made me smile as well.

“Honey, for someone that like those fantasy games so much you sure lacked creativity at times.”

That made Will snort, eyes filled with glee as he nudged Mike's shoulder, getting Mike to relax into a smile as well. “He was really good at coming up with the stories, though.”

Mom then went on to ramble in agreement, telling story after story about Mike’s imagination running wild from an early age. I was content to sit and listen and try not to die of boredom as we migrated back to the table for dessert. It was mostly things I already knew, Mom’s regurgitations of her favourite memories of Mike nothing new to me, but Will seemed to enjoy himself, and Mike was flustered but didn’t seem to mind either, chiming in to offer more context or correcting her at times when he remembered things differently.

The night was surprisingly pleasant after that, the initial frost finally broken as everyone got to enjoy themselves. They even relaxed enough to finish their glasses of wine and refill them, stories coming more easily after that. Mike and Will more freely talked about the classes they'd taken at UC and Northwestern respectively, and the apartment they'd shared after spending their first two years in the dorm.

There was still always that air of trepidation, of care hidden beneath each word, but it was easier to not fixate on it as we were all busy laughing at their crazy roommates and high-strung RAs. And by the end of the night I almost regretted having to go.

It was nice to have dinner like this - a proper dinner. Where the edges of the room fade away the further you're carried into the night, the deeper you sink into the conversation, when all focus shifts to the table at it's center and the people surrounding it, candlelight illuminating the sparks of joy in everyone's eyes. Everything suddenly seemed easier, the future shinier and more perfect, as if everything outside of the glow of the overhead lighting had ceased to exist.

And then we came home to a dark house, to dad asleep in his chair, and I realized none of my questions were answered.

Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it's only the first step. I have to admit I don't want to go back, don't want to give this up. Even if it makes me feel guilty, even if I feel bad for leaving dad on his own.

Maybe I can take it one step at a time.

I'll think about it out tomorrow.

Love, Holly

#Sorry for the delay #shifted from writing into reading mode for a while and spent the last two weeks unable to tear myself away from the written word #the third wheeler #holly wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler #karen wheeler #ttw #will byers

[dollywheeler]

June 13th, 1996

#new update hopefully tomorrow but in the meantime enjoy a playlist #tried REALLY hard to make one with songs that were already released at the time the tape was made #but some songs I REALLY didn't want to remove so i said fuck it #also technically Champagne Problems by Oasis isn't on this particular tape but it's a song you should listen to anyway #the third wheeler #stranger things #holly wheeler #fanfic #playlist #Spotify

[dollywheeler]

October 2nd, 1996

Dear diary,

Apparently, mom has run out of things to clean and is in instead coping with her nerves by continuing to sort through the stuff in the basement. She said she'd noticed some things while we'd been clearing space that she thought Mike might want back. It's already waiting by the door, as if she wants to make sure she doesn't forget - as if she only has one chance to give it to them. I almost tripped over the box when I rushed into the house to change and shower before coming here.

I don't think I'm nervous about it anymore. Sure, I'm worried about Mike and mom interacting - I have no idea what to expect from that. The theater had already been awkward enough that was only a conversation of about five minutes. Now they'll be spending the entire evening together. Hell, do they even know how to cook? Mike's letter said he could, but I just assumed he meant being able to boil potatoes and cook sausages to an acceptable degree.

It's going to be weird seeing him host.

The first time with Nancy had been weird like that too, seeing mom be the guest for once instead of the one in charge. Except, Nancy had been happy to let mom help, recognising mom's instinct to take care of her children. I doubt Mike will let her even step foot in the kitchen. Mike has always been stubborn like that.

I think he's caught on to me and Daniel - I mean, obviously he should have seen us at the dance, but he disappeared for a huge chunk of the night so I thought he'd missed most of the slow dancing. By the time I noticed him and Will return, the night was almost over and everyone was making the most of dancing with all their friends one last time. Still, he has this knowing look on his face when he watches us now, like he's sizing Daniel up. If he dares give his opinion though I might strangle him. So far he hasn't said anything, but he's generally been really good at being professional at school.

He doesn't go out of his way to talk to me unless I approach him first - which I only did to ask more details about Friday. Maybe I'm starting to look forward to it. Just a little bit. I just want to know what their house looks like from the inside, and even though it's going to be awkward talking about what they've been up to the last eight years, I can't help but be curious what life has been like for them outside of Hawkins.

The Stevenson's hallway light just started flickering, so I had to grab a chair and screw the bulb in tighter. Luckily that seems to have done the trick.

I hate when lights do that; it always sends chills down my spine. It's funny because I know it's nothing, it's literally just a faulty bulb, and yet I'm bothered by it. Sandy would joke it's because it wreaks havoc on my sense of perfection, which honestly might be the case. Blaming that one nightmare would make more sense, except nothing about that dream had been all that frightening. I think about it often, so even if it had been scary at one point, it's just a cool curiosity to me now, a weird association my brain makes; table lamp -> weird dream I had when I should have been too young to remember.

Speaking of; I handed in my final assignment for Will's class but I don't know if Will liked it. I mean, I think it's as well as I could have made it - even though the details on the wallpaper are lacking - but he always gets this weirdly pinched expression when he looks at it. Usually I would assume it was disappointment, like he'd hoped I would have done better, but even I'm proud of my drawing so I doubt that's the case. We'll see when I get the grade back.

Anyway, I'm going to get back to practicing guitar. I got distracted playing - or at least attempting to - 4 Non Blondes before, but I should get back to Where's My Mind? so that I can at least play one full song before jumping onto other things.

Love, Holly

[dollywheeler]

October 2nd, 1996

Dear diary,

Apparently, mom has run out of things to clean and is in instead coping with her nerves by continuing to sort through the stuff in the basement. She said she'd noticed some things while we'd been clearing space that she thought Mike might want back. It's already waiting by the door, as if she wants to make sure she doesn't forget - as if she only has one chance to give it to them. I almost tripped over the box when I rushed into the house to change and shower before coming here.

I don't think I'm nervous about it anymore. Sure, I'm worried about Mike and mom interacting - I have no idea what to expect from that. The theater had already been awkward enough that was only a conversation of about five minutes. Now they'll be spending the entire evening together. Hell, do they even know how to cook? Mike's letter said he could, but I just assumed he meant being able to boil potatoes and cook sausages to an acceptable degree.

It's going to be weird seeing him host.

The first time with Nancy had been weird like that too, seeing mom be the guest for once instead of the one in charge. Except, Nancy had been happy to let mom help, recognising mom's instinct to take care of her children. I doubt Mike will let her even step foot in the kitchen. Mike has always been stubborn like that.

I think he's caught on to me and Daniel - I mean, obviously he should have seen us at the dance, but he disappeared for a huge chunk of the night so I thought he'd missed most of the slow dancing. By the time I noticed him and Will return, the night was almost over and everyone was making the most of dancing with all their friends one last time. Still, he has this knowing look on his face when he watches us now, like he's sizing Daniel up. If he dares give his opinion though I might strangle him. So far he hasn't said anything, but he's generally been really good at being professional at school.

He doesn't go out of his way to talk to me unless I approach him first - which I only did to ask more details about Friday. Maybe I'm starting to look forward to it. Just a little bit. I just want to know what their house looks like from the inside, and even though it's going to be awkward talking about what they've been up to the last eight years, I can't help but be curious what life has been like for them outside of Hawkins.

The Stevenson's hallway light just started flickering, so I had to grab a chair and screw the bulb in tighter. Luckily that seems to have done the trick.

I hate when lights do that; it always sends chills down my spine. It's funny because I know it's nothing, it's literally just a faulty bulb, and yet I'm bothered by it. Sandy would joke it's because it wreaks havoc on my sense of perfection, which honestly might be the case. Blaming that one nightmare would make more sense, except nothing about that dream had been all that frightening. I think about it often, so even if it had been scary at one point, it's just a cool curiosity to me now, a weird association my brain makes; table lamp -> weird dream I had when I should have been too young to remember.

Speaking of; I handed in my final assignment for Will's class but I don't know if Will liked it. I mean, I think it's as well as I could have made it - even though the details on the wallpaper are lacking - but he always gets this weirdly pinched expression when he looks at it. Usually I would assume it was disappointment, like he'd hoped I would have done better, but even I'm proud of my drawing so I doubt that's the case. We'll see when I get the grade back.

Anyway, I'm going to get back to practicing guitar. I got distracted playing - or at least attempting to - 4 Non Blondes before, but I should get back to Where's My Mind? so that I can at least play one full song before jumping onto other things.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler #will byers

[dollywheeler]

September 29th, 1996

And I say hey-ey-ey-ey-ey, hey-ey-ey I said "hey, what's going on?"

I've had this song stuck in my head all morning, still dancing along to it as if I'm still in the gymnasium, my gold dress swirling around me. I don't know why this song - it's not particularly romantic, or fitting to the occasion, doesn't sum up how the evening had felt. Yet, it had been the most magical moment of the entire night.

One moment, dancing with Daniel to Duran Duran, then this song came on, the slow start meaning we didn't break apart yet, trying to stay close as long as possible, but when the chorus hit the entire hall threw their heads back, screaming along in a messy harmony. It felt like a dream, didn't feel quite real, like some kind of movie, when your heart feels full even though you're just watching it play out in front of you. Except, this time I was in the middle of it, screaming along with everyone else, and it felt like I was floating, wishing the moment could less forever.

That's not to say the rest of the evening wasn't just as wonderful. Daniel took me to an actual restaurant, which was a nice change of pace from the dinner, but I honestly can't tell if the food was even worth it. My stomach was too busy swirling with nerves, and I could barely get any food past my lips because we were too distracted talking and laughing. It was wonderful - he was wonderful, looking dapper in his suit and glinting golden in the candle light. As far as first dates go, I'm sure it couldn't have gone any better. Not that I'd know, as this was my first first date, but it felt like a dream, like something that couldn't possibly be real.

It was the perfect blend between familiar and exciting - the comfort of someone you already know, someone you already love spending time with, mixed with the nerve-wracking thrill of a new context, of possibility.

We were having such a great time that we were late to the actual dance, having lost track of time completely during our conversation. Whitney gave me this knowing look about it - I don't think she would have believed me if I'd told her we'd just been talking.

Anyway, we danced and we laughed and gossiped and I didn't even care that Mike and his 'party' or whatever was there. I'd already realised I'd have to get used to them being around the school in every facet - that includes chaperoning school events. The night was too perfect though, and I was not going to let anything darken my mood.

I did get to talk to Max though, and thank her for the birthday gift. She said she'd mostly just said 'yes' or 'no' to things Mike had picked out and it was no big deal but that she was glad I liked it. I also used the moment to ask about everything else - I realised that if Mike won't call to tell her things, I might as well ask someone else for intel. Apparently, Lucas and her still live in Chicago, and she works as a counselor at the blind school she went to after whatever happened had happened. Everyone is always so vague about the details, but I didn't want to ask her directly and force her to relive it. That's one thing that actually is none of my business anyway.

Erica is living with them while she is going to college - she got her Bachelor's last June but just started law school. I can't imagine moving in with Nancy while I'm in college. Don't get me wrong, Nancy's great, but it's college! You're supposed to go out on your own and become independent and stuff. I said as much to Max, but she just shrugged and smiled to herself. She said Erica was happier with them than she'd been at the dorms.

I didn't know how to go from there so I just asked about El. I knew she still visits Hawkins a lot, because opposite to the others, I see her around town sometimes. At Melvalds with Joyce or in the diner with Sheriff Hopper, or alone around the library in the center of town. But there's also stretches of time when I don't see her at all. According to Max she takes a bunch of classes at the community college, but also travels a lot - bouncing between Chicago and San Fran and New York. Max said that whenever Dustin or Jonathan and Nancy have to travel for work, she usually tags along too. I don't know why or how she does all of that, but it sounds like a dream. Yet, at the same time, I think I'd personally hate it.

She seemed happy enough though, and it's obvious she is happy. From across the room I could see that, as always, her smile was wide and her skin warm with a tan, her hair pinned back with clips that clashed with her new pink highlights. Most of the chaperones hadn't bothered dressing up, but she had clearly thought about her outfit, each item carefully picked out to form a particular look, even if it was just jeans and a colorful sweater.

I didn't want to outright ask about Mike or Will, mostly because I know what they're doing right now and asking about Mike felt too much like snooping. Max didn't seem like she was going to mention it on her own, and before I could make up my mind on whether I really wanted to know, Dylan came to drag me back to the dance floor.

It was only after we were taking another break some time later that I realised I still didn't know what Dustin or Lucas are doing. I assume Dustin lives in San Fran, as that's the only reason El would go there as often as Chicago or New York, but I don't know what he does there. Probably some kind of tech company or whatever. And I'm pretty sure I heard Mrs. Sinclair talk about Lucas following in his father's footsteps but honestly I don't even know what he does so that doesn't answer any questions.

Might be something to talk about on Friday to fill awkward silences.

Anyway the dance was amazing, and someone must have succeeded in smuggling in alcohol because there was a girl puking in one of the bathroom stalls before 9 pm. She was nice though, told me she liked my dress. Even that felt magical, despite her smudged make-up and loopy expression, the entire night like a daydream where I was floating on air and nothing could ever be wrong.

There was an after party at Selena's house - I swear kids of divorced parents are raising themselves because somehow their houses are always empty at the most opportune times - but Danny and I decided not to go. I didn't want to risk ruining what had been the perfect evening, and I knew I'd only get more tired and everyone else less sober. It also kept the evening quiet, just Daniel and I in the car as he drove me home, drunk on happiness and singing along to the radio. Last night, it seemed, for once, I hadn't cared about missing out. I still don't.

I mean - nothing could have topped Daniel dropping me off at home, getting out of the car along with me as if he didn't know what he was doing either but had seen a few movies, and walked me up to the front door. I knew dad would already be asleep, but mom would be sitting up in the sitting room like she'd done so many nights before, for so many years on end, waiting for her teenager to get home safe.

I had my jacket draped over my shoulders because it wasn't too cold yet and I liked the air against my arms after the crowded gymnasium. Daniel pretended to pull it tighter around me, only to use it as leverage to draw me closer and kiss me. It feels silly writing it down because there's nothing I can say to really describe it. No words that feel right or do it justice, that explain how I'm blushing all over again just thinking about it, my stomach swirling at the recollection.

All I know is that I wish I was still in that moment, still holding his face in my hand, gently scratching my nail over his cheek, submitting the feeling to memory. But I didn't mind when he pulled away, his face flushed and dark eyes shining in the porchlight, because I got to smile at him and he smiled back, blush deepening as he stepped away and muttered a goodnight, dimples digging into his cheeks where I'd held him.

I watched him go before getting back into the house, finding mom asleep on the couch. It was late for her, I realised, even though it was only a little before twelve, and considered the fact she hadn't had to stay up in a long time - not since Mike had left. I didn't want to wake her but knew I had to - if just to let her know I was home and she wouldn't wake up worried.

I still can't quite believe the night was real.

I really should get the reading done for tomorrow, but I don't want to stop thinking about yesterday. Or tomorrow, when I'll see Daniel again.

Love, Holly <3

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler

[dollywheeler]

September 28th, 1996

[Incoming call, Saturday September 28th 1996, 10:08 am]

*distant voices and laughter in the background* *sound of multiple car engines* *beeping of a car horn* E: Dusty-Bun, is that you? D: Hey, El! E: Hold on - *beep of a button being pressed* *thudding sound of a handset hitting a wooden surface*- you're on speaker! W: *mumbled* Good morning- *stifled yawn* or afternoon or whatever D: How was the game? *sound of someone shuffling into the room* M: *far away but getting closer* You’d know if you were here, asshole!

D: It’s called work, Michael. We can’t all have weekends off. M: Yeah, right, because an all-expenses paid trip is such a slag. D: You’re just jealous! *ring of a bicycle bell* D: You’ll never guess where I’m calling from. M: If you say the toilet again, I swear- D: That was a mind-boggling experience, jackass! You should have been more appreciative! M: We’ve been using walkie’s since fifth grade, dude, pretty sure you’ve called us while taking a shit before. D: I wasn’t in another state then! We’re not even on the same continent right now and - *motorcycle in the background getting louder before receding again* W: Just tell us where you’re at, Dustin. D: Fine - I'm in front of La Sagrada Familia! M: So you’re looking at a construction site? I’m sooooo envious- D: You so are! Both of my trip and my sexy sexy mobile phone! M: We- W: Stop bickering! *the slap of skin hitting skin* M: *rustling fabric* OW! This is abuse! W: Leave me at the altar then, you baby. M: Your baby. D: *over the sound of far-away laughter* You guys are a fucking nightmare. E: I should have stayed home. M: Yeah, you should have! *sound of metal rattling* *sound of books thudding to the ground* M: EL! You can't just come into our house and -

E: Be nice to me, then! D: El, when are you getting here? E: I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon - dad’s dropping me off at the airport at 2 and I have a layover in New York. I should land around 10 am local time. *rustling of fabric* *the creaking of the springs of the couch cushions* W: *getting farther away* Stop planning your trips in front of us! M: Yeah, some of us don’t have our flights paid for by the government. And SOME of us care about our friends! *sound of books getting picked up* W: *distantly* And family! M: Yes, thank you, babe. W: *voice getting louder, closer* It’s called homecoming for a reason, Dustin! D: How many times am I going to have to apologize? M: Until you’re actually here for homecoming next year! *sound of springs squeaking as someone flops back onto the couch* D: I’ll be there at thanksgiving! You could see me next week if you wanted to! M: Yeah, but you broke the tradition! Which means the streak is broken and there'll be less pressure to come next year so someone else won’t be able to make it and it’s all ruined and it’s your fault! D: Relax; no one’s going to miss it next year. I wouldn’t have either if I’d known you were going to be such a stickler about it. W: How didn’t you know? Mike’s always this whiny about this kind of thing. *fabric rustling* D: Hey, Will, you know, I could still introduce you to my colleague Steward? Offer's always open- W: Oh no, I agree with Mike, Dusty. His bitching makes sure I don’t have to whine about it - that’s exactly why I said yes to his proposal. M: *scoff* Yeah, that’s why and not the mind-blowing- W: Mike, think very carefully about what you say next and remember that until this is legally binding I can still take Catherine and leave! M: As if Catherine would choose you! *fabric rustling* W: Fuck off. *sound of air kisses* E: Dustin, I might just call Bernard and tell him to get me an earlier flight. M: You don’t have to be here, El, you’re the one that broke in at too-fucking-early o’clock- E: Mom and dad sleep in on Saturdays! I was bored! M: And we don’t? Some of us have to wake up at six every morning to get to work! E: Oh pish posh. W: *tiredly* Mike, don’t antagonize my sister. M: Will, don’t defend my ex-girlfriend. *springs squeaking* M: Will- No wait come back- *feet hitting the ground* *running footsteps* *shuffling and clothing rustling* *giggling* E: *loud sigh* I wish Max were here already. D: *crackling connection* Where are they? *cut-off yelp in the distance* *sound of head thudding against the wall* *giggling* E: They’re still asleep upstairs.

D: Did Lucas- *sound of someone grunting as they're pushed backwards* *sound of someone jumping over a couch* *sound of springs bouncing as El yelps* M: Wait a second - *sound of handset getting picked up* *clicking of a button* Will, can you and El start on breakfast please? *muffled protest in the distance* *confused shuffling* M: Thanks, babe. E: Why can’t I just stay- W: *distantly* El, just come in here! E: *muttered* whatever, stupid men...*couch cushions shifting* D: Is she gone? M: Yeah and I’ve taken you off speaker. D: SO? M: *fabric rustling* *couch cushions shifting* Okay, Lucas got the r-i-n-g, but he’s not sure when or how yet. He’s thinking of doing it at Thanksgiving with his family, but he’s worried Max might want something more private. D: She’s going to say ‘yes’ anyway. Tell him to do it with his family around. And to stop being a coward. M: I’ll let you tell him - they’re just coming down the stairs. M: *shuffling of a phone pulled away from a face* Lucas, Dustin wants to tell you he loves you! *distant voices* *sound of phone getting handed over* L: Hey, man D: Ask her around your family and stop being a coward. Hell, why not just do it tonight? *rustling of wind* L: Love you too, Dusty-Bun. *distant voices* D: You guys really need to let that go. Even Suzy has stopped calling me that - most of the times. L: Ew, I don’t need to know that. D: You’re the one with your mind in the gutter, dude! L: Anyway, we are going to help chaperone the homecoming dance tonight. D: Seriously, all of you? That’s so lame. We used to curse the chaperones. L: Yeah, honestly we’re not happy about it either, but Mike and Will don't have a choice so they signed us up against our will as well. We’re only here for the weekend anyway - and as we’re good friends that actually want to spend time together… D: I know you all miss my beautiful face but you guys really should stop whining about it. It's unbecoming. L: *scoff* D: You can still ask Max - it would be cute! Remember the snow ball? L: Absolutely not. I’ll probably spend the entire night holding Max back from spiking the punch, anyway. Mx: *yelling from far away* If I’m going to have to spend my evening around high-schoolers AGAIN, I might as well have a little fun. And seriously these losers need it - it’s like they all have sticks up their butts all of a sudden. L: *grinning* Remember Junior prom? *loud rattling in the distance* W: *far away* EL! PUT THE PAN DOWN! E: *distantly* DON’T MENTION THAT! L: *sound of phone being lowered* *voice more distant* Oh come on, El! It was funny! W: *distantly* PUT IT DOWN! WE GOT THAT FROM MOM! L: *grazing of phone against ear* Anyway, how’s Spain? D: Great - I had a symposium this morning but I’m free-roaming this afternoon. L: That’s great dude - Oh, breakfast is almost ready. Max, you want to speak with Dustin? Mx: *closer than before* No, you know I hate that guy. *sound of fabric rustling* *giggling* *sound of a hand being slapped away* D: Love you too, Max! Mx: Stay safe, Dusty-Bun! Don’t forget my fucking magnet! D: I won’t! Where did Mike go? L: He’s playing referee in the kitchen. I’ll tell him goodbye for you. D: Thanks! Talk to you guys later! *distant chorus from the kitchen* Bye!

[Call disconnects, Saturday September 28th 1996, 10:47 am]

#thanks for the feedback!! #mike wheeler #the third wheeler #stranger things #byler #will byers #fanfic #the party #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #el hopper #this is for my grandma who was one of the first people in my country to get a cellphone #and mostly used it so her kids could tell her what they wanted from the baker's

[dollywheeler]

I NEED MORE 👹👹👹 no pressure 😜

but i keep like….craving a new update and its getting concerning

No worries! More will follow!

I've been focusing on finishing up and updating some older works these last few days but there will be a new entry soon!

#still baffled people really like this fic ngl #ttw #ask #anonymous #ooc

[dollywheeler]