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bates--boy · 3 years

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Peter was just about done with work that day, cleaning the bottles for the infant animals when his phone buzzed in his pockets. He shut the sink off, yanked off the wet rubber gloves, and pulled his device out of his pocket. “Oh!” he chirped, seeing the name of the sender.

[Naseem] Yo, Pete, it’s Naz. Was wondering if you have plans for lunch today?

[Naseem] I wanted us to do some extra rap practice and maybe go over the lines between Troy and Stefan before our big night

Peter turned to sit back against the lip of the sink, hugging one of his arms across his torso as he typed.

[Peter] i have a half-day today so i’m free once i clock out at twelve.

[Peter] i’d be happy to buy you lunch if you haven’t eaten yet. i know a great place to get a bite to eat.

[Naseem] Bet. My break’s half past noon. See you at your work?

[Peter] fine by me! see ya!

Smiling at the screen before shoving his phone into his pocket, Peter finished cleaning the rest of the bottles, went to the changing area to wiggle out of the waterproof overalls, and then to the employee area to punch out at the time clock and fetch his hoodie and his copy of the stage play from his locker. He looked down at the practically beaten-up book, some pages curled in, corners folded, colorful tabs poking out of the pages: pink for Josef’s spoken lines, blue for Troy’s; green for Josef’s songs, yellow for Troy’s. Slightly crinkled from the times Peter shoved it into his bag to carry at all times, or when he had his quick bursts of sleep while reading over the thing.

With a quick cleaning at the employee basin, Peter made a brisk walk back to the grounds, heading to the entrance area. He sent a quick message of his location and waited with the play lying open, quietly murmuring Josef’s verses. Soon, the familiar deep blue XC60 rolled onto the lot, with the Nigerian, Palestinian, and Swedish flags painted across the back. Naseem climbed out and waved as he strolled over, a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his copy of the play rolled in his hand. When he drew close enough, Naseem said, “Wow, it’s been a while since I last came here.”

“Ah, so you probably don’t know about the new aerial arts performance they have here,” Peter grinned as they walked back to the conservatory grounds together.

Naseem shrugged. “I have. And I’ve been meaning to come check it out, but, you know. Schedule..”

“Well, the next time you’re free, come on over! I can even sneak you in for a show!” Peter nudged his shoulder against Naseem.

“How are you gonna--” Naseem stopped once he saw the coy grin on Peter’s face. “Lemme guess: you’re the star?”

“One of them.” Peter bobbed his shoulder and looked away in faux modesty. He giggled and patted Naseem’s arm. “Come on, I know a great picnic area we can practice in.”

Peter and Naseem took the stroll to the benches, dodging giggling little kids darting everywhere to get to the next animal enclosure that caught their eye, and the wandering animals that escaped their habitats, mainly small bird and marsupial species. After Peter bought them both bottled smoothies at one of the snack kiosks, they settled at a table near the wooden fence post, drawing annoyed glances from passersby as they sat on the tabletop instead of the benches.

“Which scenes do you want to practice today?” Peter asked before pulling a long draught from his bottle. “We can just do a couple so I can treat you to lunch.”

Naseem skimmed the pages he had marked, going back and forth and shrugging. “Ones that have our characters singing so we can work these vocal cords. Let’s start with...” he consulted his shorthand notes. “Act III, scene 4. So, my character comes up to yours.”

Naseem clambered down the picnic table, took a few steps away, and stomped back. The chills Peter felt may or may not have to do with the complete switch of energy Naseem made. Even his green eyes flared with fury.

“Why the hell did you do that to Josef?!”

Peter sighed as his character did, shifting on the table and leaning forward on his knees. So cool and unaffected, to the point of almost being despondent. Peter still couldn’t figure this Troy out, but he spoke his lines.

“I didn’t do a thing to him, Stef.”

Naseem crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Oh, really? So when he said no to that stage deal because ‘his mom’s gonna die alone in their apartment while he’s out singing for pocket change’, that wasn’t you?” Peter had to pause here, as Troy struggled to find an excuse. Naseem threw up his arms. “God, what is wrong with you?! What kind of a friend are you?!”

“A realistic one.” Peter’s tone remained calm, stoic - a stoner too mellowed out to get worked up.

Naseem rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Realistic. Jo finally had what he needed right in his lap, and you couldn’t even be supportive of him because you’re realistic. That’s bull crap, even for you.”

“You can say whatever you want about me, Stef, but of all these people feeding him these wild dreams --” Peter swept his hand about, gesturing to a figurative crowd while a few eyes turned their way. He pointed to his own chest. “--I’m the only one looking out for him.”

“No, looking out for him would be helping him with this. He has a chance to get a better life, but you don't want that for him!"

"I don't--?!" Peter gave a scoffing laughing and rolled his eyes. "You're so far off, it's funny!"

"Yeah? So all this time you kept telling him to don't do it, it's not because you know you're wasting your own life being some bum mad that you lost your trust fund and you're angry that Josef can make it?"

"No!" Peter's voice started to boil, Troy's cool, arrogant façade starting to crack and chip. His free hand curled into a shaking fist.

"Then why? Why are you being such a shitty friend?!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see a uniformed figure walking up to them, parents trying to distract their kids from the argument.

"Because this would break him just like it almost did me!"

In a blink of an eye, and a sudden flush of heat on his cheeks, Peter was on his feet, too, feeling Troy's despair as he and Naseem were practically nose to nose. For all the anger, the anguish, and the overprotective adrenaline Troy was supposed to feel at that moment, Peter channeled the underlying heartache and exhaustion; he sounded tired.

"Like it did my sister."

"Er, excuse me," the uniformed man said when he came close enough, a hand reaching out to them. "Is there a prob--"

Naseem stared at Peter for a breath. "Your sister?"

Peter gave a soft, sad laugh. "Oh, that's right, I never told you about Anna, did I?" He silently filled his lungs with air.

You don't know the story of a boy and a girl Mommy pleasers destined to dominate the world

The worker looked between the two men, casting an especially long glance at the singing one. "...What?"

Born to hold the dreams that Mommy tucked away Cause she got bare footed and pregnant Waiting on her someday

The worker furrowed his brows. “What is--” he spotted the open scripts in their hands and lowered his own hand. “Oh... okay...”

Peter felt a tickle of a grin almost appearing on his lips, amusement almost breaking his character. Almost.

Commercial deals, toddlers on every single ad Barely out of diapers, and we’re out there selling fads Taught to walk so we could tap dance and do a twirl And hold our hands out for all the gold, silver, and pearls

Yanked outta school when the lime lights calling us Daddy got you a gig, so you better not fucking fuss! Tuck in your gut, tilt up your chin, chest out and sing You’re gonna make it worth taking this diamond ring

What you do with heavy makeup and cameras flashing? Swallow cotton and pinch our cheeks red to stay dashing Seeing enemies in friends looking for a ladder to climb Trying to bring you to ruin when they find the right time To strike, like vipers on the hunt for your big juicy kill And the only way to stop the cracks is a tiny yellow pill

A tiny yellow pill A tiny yellow pill A handful of tiny yellow pills Until her heart went still

Naseem slowly started to unfold his arms, his character Stefan hit with a world-shattering realization. “Oh...”

Peter turned his face away. “Yeah...”

Naseem shook his head and sighed. “Man, I’m... I’m sorry. But, see, here’s the thing...”

I had never known you were crushed this hard Ruled by your fears, beaten, tattered, and battle scarred Now that I think it, so much shit start to make sense Is this why a little stage work gets you so incensed?

I hate that for you, all this pain you’ve been burdened Chasing a high and identity that doesn’t leave you hurtin’ But it’s unfair how you hurt Josef with your sister’s ghost Breaking a dream for someone else’s overdose

What does it do for the person on the other spectrum Piss poor, tryna get meds for his ailing, dying mum When even his close friend is robbing him of a dream Cuz he can’t stop himself from falling apart at the seam? Still blinded by phantom lights, suffocating at the gills? What about Josef’s mum little pills?

Her little pills Her life saving pills If she don’t get hers, then her heart will stand still.

This was the part where Peter is stunned into silence, indignant, hurt, scrambling for more excuses, still trying to cling to the death of his sister -- the crux of Troy’s listlessness and indifference. But then a loud cry rang out around them.

The crowd of mere picnickers grew during their rehearsal, it seemed, now cheering and clapping and whistling, someone even going “You tell him, baby!”

Stuttering, Peter looked towards Naseem and exchanged smiles with him. They stood closer together, held hands, and took a bow.

“Thank you, thank you!” Peter called out, waving to the cell phones held out. “If you want more, purchase tickets for Inner City Lights before they sell out!”

“Written and produced by Gunnar Didig!” Naseem added, calling out the website to purchase over the hooting and whistling.

#note to self: never write a musical #life thus far ( story )#droid noodles ( writing )#and suicide imp tw #long post

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anxiously-introverted · 4 years

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Can you write a a scene about Will first activating his powers and losing control and El and Mike ( Mike is there cuz it’s the holidays so they’re all visiting eatchother) and maybe Joyce idk and they have to snap him outta it and calm him down? What others powers/other stuff can he do with his electricity?

On top of being able to manipulate electricity, I also like the idea of Will having telepathic powers like El’s. However, instead of being able to enter the minds of people, Will is able to enter, and even control, the minds of the creatures from the Upside Down (such as the Demogorgon).

Here’s the scene I was picturing! Please be aware, Lonnie is a jerk with homophobic views in this and the kids like to swear. Hope you enjoy!

“Why is it that every time something seems to go wrong here nowadays, it’s because of you?” Lonnie snarled, hand twisted into the fabric of Will’s shirt as he cornered his son against the brick wall of the local convenience store. It was cold, wind nipping harshly at Will’s skin as he stared up at his father with wide eyes.

The past few days had been going so well for him. The Party had already had several hangouts and movie nights, trying to spend as much time as possible together before Will and El had to return to their new home in New Mexico. So far, it almost felt as if things hadn’t really changed. Sure, Will still felt that particular pang of hurt when he saw Mike and El showing each other affection. Yeah, there came a certain sting when he heard about how some kid at their school was so great at Dungeons and Dragons, yet the group never wanted to play when Will had been suggesting it. Maybe he did still feel left out when everyone talked relationships while he knew he could never discuss the feelings he had without the others being disgusted.

Perhaps there was still a lot of pains that still rattled him, but the small flashes of happiness with his best friends that made up for it. For the most part, at least.

Yesterday, though, there was a sudden change in the mood. Lonnie Byers had blown into town like a glowering tumbleweed, the news of what happened during the summer making its way back to him after a long delay.

His unstable son, after going in and out of a lab that was eventually shut down permanently, had also been involved in a huge incident at the mall which resulted in it being destroyed. There was gossip of Russians and the disappearance of the chief of police.

He insisted that he would’ve come sooner to see Will, if only Joyce had given him their new address. He told Will he’d been so worried, that he didn’t know what to think when he’d gotten random bills from the lab and the hospital. He assured that had he’d known everything that had been happening, he would’ve been here. But, he said, he was here now.

He said he wanted to know what was going on.

He said he wanted to help.

Will felt like a fool for believing him.

“It wasn’t bad enough that you had to be a dirty little queer,” Lonnie said with curled lips, as if the taste of bile came up with the word. “But now I’ve got people around here sayin’ my kid was moved to a looney bin outta state, locked up with the other bleeding hearts and crazies. You have any idea how goddamn humiliating it is to have the town freak as my son?”

Tears stung at Will’s eyes, though he refused to let them fall. He tried blinking them away, hazel eyes clearing up the blur minimally as he tried to retort, “Why do you care? You don’t even live here anymore! I don’t even live here anymore!” He was shaking, he was struggling. He felt like he was in a cage with a lock that was on the verge of breaking.

“Oh, so it’s fine to turn your family into a fucking joke?!” Lonnie snapped. “Not to mention all the damn bills that keep flooding in from the hospital. You have any idea how much money-“

“All you care about is money!” Will cut in angrily, fear and frustration coming out in a rage that had been smothered and repressed for as long as he could remember. His chest felt like it was burning, his head feeling weightless and as if a boulder rested on it all at once. The building resentment paced in his mind like a tiger in an enclosure two sizes too small. “I know about how you tried to sue Sattler after the funeral! I know you only cared about making some quick money before ditching mom and Jonathan all over again!”

For a brief instant, there was shock on Lonnie’s face. He had never heard his son, embarrassingly weak and shamefully reserved Will, speak to him with such venom. If he weren’t so pissed, he may have felt proud. Instead, Lonnie hatefully shot back, “That money would’ve done us a hell of a lot more good than what you’ve been doing! Meltdown after meltdown, disaster after disaster, not once have you ever dealt with any of this like a man! That money wouldn’t have ruined this family’s reputation, and it wouldn’t have dragged us to the brink of debt!”

Hotter, hotter, hotter, there may as well have been lava in his veins. Will felt more and more tears gathering in his eyes, hatred for himself and the man in front of him strangling his heart with barbed wire. There were so many things he wanted to scream. It wasn’t his fault the Demogorgon came after him; it wasn’t his fault the Mind Flayer haunted him every day until eventually robbing him of his autonomy; it wasn’t his fault Billy and the others were possessed, nor were the deaths or the destruction of StarCourt his fault. He didn’t want any of it to happened, he didn’t mean for any of it to happen. All he wanted was to forget, to move on, to start a new chapter-

“It would’ve been better for everyone if you just stayed dead!”

A tear broke free, gliding down his cheek. The lock on the cage broke and Will raged.

In the Wheeler’s basement, Mike looked at the clock hanging on the wall for the fifth time within the hour. His worry and agitation was palpable, setting the other Party members on edge. El rested a gentle hand on the other’s arm, commenting, “I’m sure he’s alright, Mike.”

“They should’ve come back by now,” the teen insisted, his brown eyes flicking worriedly to hers. “Something must have happened.”

“He’s just out with his dad, Mike. What could happen?” Max asked, looking up with a raised brow from where she was playing cards with Dustin and Lucas.

Mike shook his head, “You don’t know his dad, Max. He’s… He’s a major asshole. He’s been a dick to Will since elementary school.”

“He’s right,” Lucas said, his lips twisting into a frown as memories came to mind. “He would yell at him, call him all sorts of names. And that was just what he did in front of us.”

El’s face pinched into a look of concern at the information. She knew Lonnie was a sore subject for the Byers family, but she thought perhaps it was just the bitter aftertaste of a bad fight or the awkward hurt that had settled after the divorce. Asking questions wasn’t really an option, she felt as though it wasn’t her place to go digging into old wounds. Not to mention that Will had seemed off for what seemed like days, perhaps even weeks, now.

She now wishes she had learned more about her new family.

Mike stood with a hardened expression and said, “I’m going to go find him.”

“I’ll come with you,” El said, coming up from her spot on the couch as well.

“Do you need us to come with you?” Dustin asked, his head popping up from where he was laying on the floor.

“We should be fine. We’ll radio you if we need help, but stay here in case my mom asks where I am,” Mike said, putting one of the radios into his sweatshirt’s pocket. With that, he and El made their way up the stairs and out of the house.

The sky was overcast with flashes of blue.

No words would be sufficient to describe the way Mike felt as he took in the scene before him. Lonnie lay on the ground, clutching his upper arm as he stared with petrified eyes at Will. His skin looked burned, almost charred, as if struck with a bolt of unbridled energy.

And Will…

Screams of anguish, rage, heartbreak; the cries of one who’s been broken one too many times cut through the air like a razor. His eyes were alight with electric energy, his irises turned dark despite the flashes of neon blue crackling out of them and emanating from the rest of his body as if he were an overpowered battery. The very air around had turned to static, almost burning with the intensity.

One by one, shop windows began to rattle, crack, and break. Street lights flashed in bursts of blinding light, the hum of constant electricity humming through them like a chorus. The sky above them rumbled, almost gurgling on the blue energy being blasted into and out of it. Veins of blue and black danced along Will’s body, a sickening tango of power intermingled with overwhelming grief.

Lonnie screamed, “Fucking monster! He’s a fucking monster!”

Another bolt shot out at Lonnie, but he managed to roll out of the way just in time for it to strike and scorch the ground beside him. The man yelped as he accidentally put pressure onto his injury, his legs scrambling to get him up onto his feet.

El could relate all too well to the scene in front of her. The lack of control, the surge of emotions, feeling as though you had all the power in the world and yet none at all. She looked at Will screaming, sobbing, breaking, and saw herself. She could see the steady stream of crimson pouring from his nose, pouring like a faucet as his body poured his very soul into the outburst around him. It was so familiar, she could almost feel the blood on her own lip.

Willing her voice to be steady, she called out, “Will! It’s me! It’s Eleven!” Screaming broke into choppy outbursts before stopping, as if an old engine were struggling to stop. The scratch and catch in Will’s throat could be heard from where the pair stood. Mike snapped himself from his reverie, following El’s lead, “Will, it’s Mike! Listen, it’s-“

“Do not say it’s going to be okay!” Will rasped, heat and venom seeping through the hurt. “Nothing’s okay now and nothing’s ever going to be fucking okay!” There was a pulse of more intense energy, as if a second kick jolted within the brunette and poured out as even more strands of tangled lightning.

“Will, please, what’s going on? You can tell us. We want to help you!” El continued, brow furrowed as she watched the boy struggle. “But first, you have to calm down!”

“Calm down? Calm down?!” The enraged teen demanded, electricity crackling. “I’ve been told to calm down for the past three years! And it never. Fucking. Helps!” Two more bolts shot out, one striking the brick wall behind him, another striking a lamp post and shattering the bulb with the surge.

“Then tell us what will help!” Mike pleaded, taking a small step forward. “Tell us what you need, Will!”

“It-it,” Will struggled, gripping his hair tightly with white knuckles. “Why do you care? Just-Just stop pretending! Stop acting like I matter to you!”

El shifted toward Will, her hands lowered and body language open. “We’re not pretending! We care about you, Will. All we want is for you to be okay.”

“You want me dead!” Will screamed, though his energy was dipping. “You all wish I had died in that quarry! You all wish I never came back!”

“That’s not true!” Mike said, fire coming back to his voice. “We never wanted to give up on you! Seeing your body coming out of the water, the funeral… It killed us, Will! It killed me!” The crack in the dark haired teen’s voice seemed to dim the intensity of the light coming from Will. “When we found out you were still alive, when El was able to contact you, it meant the world to us. It was… Will, do you remember what I told you that day in the shed? Do you remember what the best decision I ever made was?”

Only the quiet crackling of electricity broke the silence.

“It was becoming your friend, Will,” Mike said, taking two more steps forward. “That decision changed my life for the better. You made my life better, Will. You make all of our lives better. Please, Will, believe me.”

El stepped forward as well, coming closer with small steps as she added, “You help us, Will. You helped me at school, with my homework. You took me to the movies, made us waffles, put up with shopping with me. You took care of me. Let us take care of you.”

With a shuddering breath and a heartbroken tremble, the lighting died away and Will fell forward, angry blue and black veins disappearing as he landed into the gentle and loving arms of his sister and the boy he’s loved in secret for years.

For the first time since 1983, Will Byers felt safe.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #will byers #byler #mike wheeler #eleven #el hopper

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