i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington
note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(
bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.
so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.
but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.
he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.
a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.
and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.
apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.
and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.
his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.
so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.
but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.
but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.
steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."
and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.
and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.
but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.
and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.
and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.
through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.
but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.
and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.
even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.
but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.
the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.
this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.
but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.
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“Don't you hate her?”
Furina turned, eyebrows raised in confusion. “Huh?”
“Your creator. Don't you hate her?”
The girl pondered a moment, looking unsure. “I..don't know.”
“You should,” he asserted. “All this time you had to suffer alone, for what?? People who didn't even care about the real you?? People who were ungrateful and selfish and only cared about themselves, at the end of the day??”
“Not everyone is like that,” Furina protested, shaking her head slowly. “I ..did suffer, but it all worked out in the end. Besides, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her-”
“The same could be said for my mother,” Wanderer interrupted, eyes flashing. “I came into being because of her, but that doesn't make her a good person, or a good parent. She hurt me. These two facts can coexist. Focalors created you, yes, but she also subjected you to 500 years of suffering where you couldn't confide in ANYONE or risk losing everything. Wasn't that awful?? Wasn't it a horrible time? You were all alone living on a hope and a prayer, and if it went wrong, it would have been all for nothing. You were a means to an end, and what do you have to show for it? Sure, everybody was saved and all was well, but now you're just - a person, and people hate you for what you did, people hate you for what you DIDN'T do. Was it worth it?? Are you satisfied?”
“I am,” she nodded, after a beat. “Because, this is what I was created to do. And, I'm free now. I don't know what I'm going to do, but at least my life is mine. I can do whatever I want. I can live.” Wanderer's jaw clenched, and Furina frowned, nervously. “..why are you so angry?”
“Because SOMEONE has to be!” he shouted, voice cracking. “I mean- I heard about the trial, they were gonna kill you- they lured you there because you wouldn't talk, right? And then after everything, did anyone apologize to you or- praise you, for all the hell you went through? Anything??”
“.. Neuvillette is taking care of me.”
The pain on Wanderer's face was almost palpable, at that.
“..anything else?”
“.. it's fine," she tried to appease. "It's not like I serve any purpose anymore. Like I said, I did what I was created to, so I'm not of any use and-”
“Stop.”
“..what?”
“STOP- talking like that,” Wanderer snapped, eyes suspiciously glossy. She sounded so much like him, who he used to be, and it hurt so badly.
A blank sheet of paper has infinite potential, but it is nothing as long as it is empty, he'd said, a good while ago. He'd been wrong about himself, and Furina was wrong now.
“You're not just - what you were made for. You don't - what happened to you is wrong. You're not DISPOSABLE now that everything is over.”
“It- it was for everyone's sake, compared to my suffering, it's obvious what's more important! I had to save them! It’s what I was born for! It doesn't matter -”
“It DOES,” he yelled, eyes glowing an almost neon icy blue, and she startled. “Stop acting like your suffering was something that was necessary. Stop acting like it was just for the greater good. That doesn't matter! The fact of the matter is that you suffered, and you were hurt, and you're STILL hurting! And- barely anybody is there for you..your creator, she should have been there for you, she should have protected you, but she didn't. She didn't. And you - you have every right to be angry with her, for not being there for you. For you being unable to live, until now. It was wrong, even if it was, as she claimed, for the greater good. Don't defend her.”
"She loved me-"
"And she left you, so not enough."
Just like my mother ..
“...Wanderer,” Furina ventured, worry all over her face.
“What?”
“You're crying…”
..oh. He hadn't even noticed, but his cheeks WERE wet, and he put a hand to one with a start, quickly scrubbing at his face. “Ah-” and he pulled his hat over his face, to hide it.
“..it was a lot. I often wondered when everything would end. I wanted, to tell someone so badly what was going on,” Furina admitted, and Wanderer looked up, eyes red from weeping. “There were a lot of times I didn't think I was going to make it, but. But I did, and, and everything was okay.”
“But are you?”
There was a long pause, and the two of them stared at each other until Furina slowly shook her head no, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
“See? You're - we're both so messed up, from everything, and no one was there,” Wanderer almost whispered, looking out the window. "No one was there to help. ..You're strong as hell, I'll give you that. If I was in your shoes, I don't know if I would have made it. It seems people are stronger than I've given them credit for..”
It was something that surprised him, again and again.
“I just don't understand why you care..”
“.. I don't know why I do,” he shrugged. “Maybe because you remind me of myself, and. It hurts, looking at you and feeling like I'm looking in the mirror. But someone has to be in your corner and -”
“And you want to do that?”
A pause.
“..Well, if you don't stand up for you, no telling who will.”
“You don't have to cry over me. I'm -”
“If you say you're not worth it, I am going to bodyslam you,” Wanderer growled, eyes flashing, and Furina put up her hands.
“I wasn't going to! I was going to say that I will be okay. Not now, but. Eventually. I'm healing. I promise. There's people who care, like you.”
Wanderer fell silent then, looking away, and she reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I'm still wrestling with - with what I want to do and where I'll go but. It's nice to know that I'm valued just for existing.”
“That's all you need to be valued,” he muttered, looking to the floor. “You don't have to prove the worth of your existence. It's fine to just be.”
“..are you talking to yourself, or me?”
He looked to her then, expression unreadable, and she smiled sadly, in understanding. “Both is good. It's okay to just be. We're here, and we'll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Wanderer whispered, giving a shaky breath. “..we will."
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