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biandnotinthemood · 5 years

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Anachronism

A/N: I wanted to try writing from Steve’s POV. It actually ended up being pretty challenging, but overall, I’m pleased with the result. Obviously, spoiler alert for seasons 2 and 3, but no trigger warnings this time except for very general references to Billy’s abusive home. Enjoy! xx

Summary: Anachronism is derived from the Greek word anachronous, which means “against time.” Therefore, an anachronism is an error of chronology or timeline in a literary piece. In other words, anything that is out of time and out of place is an anachronism. (x)

“We would go back and maybe not say that thing to our dad that we said, or maybe be a little nicer to someone who we cared about and had a relationship with when we were young. You know, they're subtle things, but we carry those with us forever. And I think that regret and time travel are intrinsically linked to me.” -Colin Trevorrow

All of a sudden, one day, he was wide awake in the middle of the high school cafeteria. His name was Steve Harrington and he’d been here before, under different circumstances. He glanced at Robin sitting next to him eating her stale lunch bread. He’d been here before in a different life. Or a different time?

“What’s wrong?” Robin asked.

“I just woke up.”

She sighed. “Did you bring your special cookies to school again?”

He remembered everything. He’d always remembered everything, but now he was wide awake. In the end, it had just been him, Will, and El. The Upside Down had been leaking, but now the world was shiny and bright and new. The sun still felt warm and golden on his skin. He was outside all the time, sometimes with the naked wooden bat he’d bought at the hobby store on Main Street, sometimes with Robin and some weed.

Second chances were something he’d gotten a lot of last time, but he still had regrets. Sometimes he’d tell Robin about them, about Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler or that time he’d called Jonathan Byers a queer or even just all the little times he’d been so close to being honest but then he’d chicken out. They were always high when he got to talking about all that stuff and he could tell she almost believed him, but she was too smart not to be skeptical. He’d expect nothing less from her.

So much had changed with the reset, it was hard to prove it had even happened. There was only one thing that wouldn’t change, though. On October 15th, 1985, a guy named Billy Hargrove and his younger sister Max would arrive in the Hawkins High parking lot, “Rock You Like A Hurricane” blaring from his camaro’s stereo.

Before the reset, Steve had carried a portable radio in his backpack for El and sometimes it’d crackled to life all on its own. He’d lost track of how many times that song had played, always reaching into his guts and twisting him up inside until he’d reach over and turn it off. Other times, he’d hear panicked voices coming through or even other songs, like that one by Vera Lynn that his mom had always liked listening to when she’d get into her slumps. She’d put her old records on and lock herself in the library, spending the day drinking and thinking about “some sunny day”. When it sounded like a whole crowd was singing, he liked to imagine it was everyone they’d lost promising that they’d meet again. He’d spent a lot of nights living in the past back then.

When he gave Robin the date, she rolled her eyes, but still insisted on sitting outside that Tuesday. The moment they heard that engine revving and that song, her eyes widened and when their eyes met, she was white as a sheet. Steve took a leisurely swig from his water bottle.

“You believe me now?”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah.”

She started asking questions all the time. How had they met, had she ever gotten a girlfriend, how had she died? There were some things he knew better than to answer. Last time, he’d dated Nancy but he’d been too still and small for her, and she’d outgrown him and dated Jonathan. Until he got too still and small for her, and she’d outgrown him too. She never outgrew Robin, though. The concept of soulmates was obviously bullshit, but they’d fit together so perfectly, it just felt real.

But this time around, Nancy and Steve had never dated. She was with Jonathan and there was no way to know when that would change, if ever, so why tease Robin with something she might never have? He remembered their talks when she’d first come out to him, about how she’d tried liking guys but they’d just bore her or make her feel angry in that sad, powerless way. She’d tried liking the guys she was supposed to like, then she’d tried the soft, sensitive guys who were a little different, and it was all the same. He and Nancy had talked one night so long ago and she’d told him something similar, too, like she’d just been following orders her whole life. Steve was the guy she was “supposed” to like, Jonathan was the guy who was sensitive and artistic and different, but it was all the same to her.

As for Robin’s death… He didn’t like thinking about it. She was always so sharp and loud and full of life, he didn’t like remembering how cold she felt in his arms or how Nancy covered her mouth and wailed and fell to her knees… She’d lost a lot of weight after that. Steve didn’t like remembering the end of any of their stories.

Billy had been the first and it was so hard to reconcile the force of nature patrolling the school hallways with the battered, broken body on the floor of Starcourt Mall. Steve had stared at it--at him, until he’d been taken away in a black body bag. The mall didn’t even exist now. Scoops Ahoy would never exist. Billy would never visit him after a lifeguard shift, demanding sample after sample, leaning over the counter into his space, tying cherry stems with his tongue and winking at him… But he reminded himself that this time it’d be different.

After all the nights he’d spent turning Billy over again in his mind, he was ready to stop regretting everything. He was ready for it to be warm and golden, like the sun, like Billy’s laugh, like Billy’s skin. He’d been waiting over a lifetime for Billy and when he stalked up to Steve and his little group during the Halloween party, Steve couldn’t help but laugh. He even offered Billy a cigarette.

It took time, but he was determined. He was already back to being friends with Dustin. The kid had even let him borrow the Lord of the Rings books. Back when everything was dark and cold, he’d promised himself he’d read all three. He knew they were some of Billy’s favorites. He liked Dune, too, and The Little Prince and Pictures of Dorian Gray. Once upon a time, he’d told Steve to “use that shriveled-up walnut you call a brain and read a damn book before Big Brother makes it illegal, Harrington.” God, what an asshole.

Still, whenever Billy would press up against him in basketball practice or kick the back of his chair in class or crowd into him and his friends in the school parking lot with a cloud of cigarette smoke, Steve would just grin like it was all one big joke. And in a way, it was. Thankfully, it was one of those jokes that’s funnier the second time around. The more he seemed not to care, the more Billy seemed determined to get in his space. It made him want to laugh. It made him want to get in Billy’s space too.

It made him want to grab Billy and shout at the top of his lungs, “you moron, I’ve been in love with you for over a lifetime! I know you! I’ve always known you!”

There was something beautiful about it, about the fact that some things couldn’t be changed by the destruction of the lab. Steve was still friends with Robin and Nancy and Dustin, Joyce and Hopper still looked at each other in a way that made their eyes glow, Billy and Max still moved to Hawkins… The only person missing was El. Her name was probably Jane, though. She was living a normal life somewhere with a mom who loved her. Nothing had been stolen from her this time--from any of them. It had never been shared trauma that kept them together. It was love. It had always been love. This new world was proof of that.

Before the reset, he’d tried not to talk about the past and all the people he missed. It’d been one of his rules for El and Will. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to go on. There’d been one night, though, when El had insisted and he’d let it happen because all three of them could be dead in the next 24 hours, so why not? Will had been asleep when she approached him like he was a caged, injured animal. She’d started asking him about who he missed. He’d missed all of them. So had she. He’d missed them all the same, but El shook her head at him when he said that.

“Billy.” That had been the first time someone other than Max had said his name out loud since that night at the mall. For a moment, Steve had forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah. I miss him, too.”

“You miss him more.”

His mouth was dry. He instinctively reached up to rub at the pendant hanging under his shirt. Max had swiped it before the scientists took Billy away and she’d worn it all the way up until she had no use for it anymore. El still wore her old green scrunchie and red jacket, the one with the white stripes. “Don’t you miss Mike more, too?”

El had hesitated, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Not just Mike.”

He’d never really gotten a chance to find out who else El missed “more”, but he had a pretty good idea. Max was a cool kid. Whenever Steve and Billy found himself on opposite sides of a fight now, it always had something to do with her. Knowing why it was happening didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Max had the strictest curfew because she was Billy’s responsibility and Billy’s dad was a living nightmare. Getting rid of the lab hadn’t gotten rid of all the monsters in Hawkins, unfortunately.

It was a chilly night in January and Max had just finished screaming at Billy over the phone in Steve’s kitchen until her voice cracked, before slamming the receiver and storming out. None of the other teens liked watching the kids, but the parents trusted him and his house was always empty, so… Some things couldn’t be changed. This was just another night of him watching the kids. By the time he made it to the back door, Will was already comforting a sniffling Max on one of his white lawn chairs.

“He’s such a dick,” she gasped, fidgeting with the bright yellow knit hat in her lap.

“I know.”

“Why does he have to fucking act like that? What did I ever do to him? Y’know, I used to try to help him with--” She cut herself off, fumbling with the information she’d almost let slip. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

But Will could remember everything because he’d been there at the reset, just like Steve. “With your stepdad, right?”

“Y… yeah. How did you know?”

Will shrugged. “My dad was a bad guy, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was lucky. I had my mom and my brother.” There was a beat of silence between them before Will grabbed Max’s hat and pulled it onto her head. She huffed and wiped at her face with the sleeve of her green sweater.

“I feel so stupid. I mean, I know I’m not, but… I just wish things were different, y’know? I wish Billy would either be less of an asshole or just, like… fuck off.”

“Jonathan was different back when my dad was around sometimes, too.”

“How’d you deal with it?”

“I waited.”

Max scoffed. “That’s it?”

Steve already knew what Will was going to say before the kid even said it. It had always been his advice. The other kids didn’t call him Will the Wise for nothing. “I waited and I listened.” It took a few seconds, but Max nodded.

Waiting and listening was all well and good for them, but not for Steve. The moment he heard Billy’s car rumbling down the street, he walked out to his driveway and didn’t uncross his arms until Billy was finally standing in front of him. “Let’s talk,” he said, smiling tensely when Billy rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of the waiting. Last time, the only reason Billy had changed his tune was because Max had almost turned his dick into ground beef with a nail bat. Well, this time they didn’t have a nail bat.

“What the fuck do you want, Harrington? I’m kinda’ in a rush here.” Under the dim street lights, Billy just looked tired and haunted, like a skeleton. The bags under his eyes were even casting little shadows. His hair was all messy and he overall just looked like he’d been dragged out of bed, shaken until he popped, and thrown into his car.

“It’s 7:30. Max’s curfew isn’t for another two hours.”

“So what?”

“So you didn’t need to call and upset her, but you did.”

“Are you serious right now?” Billy’s voice pitched itself higher until he sounded hysterical. When he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, Steve caught sight of his busted knuckles along with the glint of the silver ring he always wore. “None of that matters. I need to get her home--now.”

“You really don’t care?” Regret flickered across Billy’s face like a shadow, softening the hard lines of his face for just a second. “You made her cry.”

“She cries all the time,” he muttered, patting over all his pockets. He pulled his cigarettes out of the right pocket of his denim jacket. Before Billy could grab his lighter, Steve offered him his. Billy snatched it out of his hand and glared at him as he lit his cigarette.

“Should she be crying all the time?”

“What’s your problem?” Billy jerked his burning cigarette into Steve’s face, ash flaking off and fluttering around them.

“My problem is that you’re being an asshole and I know you’re better than that.” Steve had months of anecdotal evidence to prove Billy was better than that, but if he never decided to live up to it, then what did it matter?

“You don’t know shit.”

“I do. Now come inside.”

“What?”

Steve pointed at Billy’s busted hand and he covered it immediately, his tired eyes suddenly big and wild and alert. “I have a first-aid kit in my bathroom.” Billy took a pensive drag, the red glow of his cherry bleeding onto his face.

“Fine.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked with a slow smile. “You won’t bother Max either?”

“No,” he spat, throwing his spent cigarette on the ground and crushing it under his boot as he walked past Steve and towards the front door.

Max didn’t end up leaving until around 9:15 and whatever hell they’d catch for it at home, Steve just hoped he wouldn’t have to fill his bat with nails to get Billy to be a better person. The whole night, Billy had kept squinting at him with this unreadable expression and calling him weird.

And after that, things did change--slowly, then a little faster. Like rolling down a hill. Robin already knew he swung both ways, just like he already knew she was a lesbian. Well, maybe not just like he knew, but close enough. What she didn’t know was that Billy had been the one who helped him figure that out. It had been a lifetime ago, literally. After an annoying shift at Scoops, he and Billy had been alone in his big, empty house and Steve had pulled out his dad’s expensive whiskey and well… they finally did what they’d been dancing around for months. That memory, the breathless way Billy gasped out his name, the heat of his hands clutching Steve’s sweat-slicked back, his blue eyes--clearer and more beautiful than they’d ever been--fluttering closed as his back arched, it was precious to him. It was something that was only his. It was something that never happened again.

But Robin was smart. Too smart, really. She got to understanding that October 15th wasn’t an important date for him just because it proved he wasn’t full of shit. She got to noticing how he hovered around Billy or gave him things or just stared, even when he didn’t mean to. He never really meant to, but fuck, it wasn’t like he didn’t know Billy was gay. What, was he supposed to just ignore it? Or forget? How?

He and Robin were smoking in the back field during lunch one day. It was something they did often that Nancy very vocally disapproved of. If only she knew the first time she’d gotten high, she’d ended up loving it and kissing Robin (and loving that, too). Billy had been sitting with them for a bit, taking a hit here and there while arguing with Robin about the significance of the beating heart in The Bell Jar, but he’d left a few minutes ago. Steve was still watching him walk across the field.

“Just ask him out already.”

“Huh?” He didn’t look away from Billy’s retreating figure.

“Did you know him before everything changed?”

“Everything didn’t change,” he said, taking another quick hit from Robin’s dark blue pipe. “And yeah, I did.”

“Is he gay?” she asked, gingerly accepting the glass pipe when Steve handed it back to her. “You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, you’re done or yeah, he’s gay?”

“Both.”

“So ask him out.” Robin took a long puff, coughing like crazy when she pulled off.

“Not yet.” Billy wasn’t ready yet. Steve didn’t want to fuck him over like he’d done last time. After they’d slept together, Billy wasn’t even done catching his breath before Steve was practically shoving him out the door. And that was the last time they’d spoken, ever. That was the last memory Steve had to keep him warm at night back there, at the end of all things. Just another regret. And just because nobody could remember it didn’t erase the fact that it had still happened, that he had still done that. Even knowing everything he’d known about Billy’s pain and vulnerabilities, he’d still… And then he’d even had the nerve to be shocked and hurt when Billy hadn’t sauntered into Scoops Ahoy the next day with a sparkle in his eye and forgiveness on his lips. And then he hadn’t shown up the next day or the next or any day after that and before Steve knew it, he was staring at the empty, bloody patch of tiled floor in Starcourt Mall with a heart so empty, there was wind howling in his chest.

So really, maybe he was the one who wasn’t ready. But nothing could change the fact that he was drawn to Billy like a moth to a flame or maybe that guy Icarus to the sun. That was another thing that hadn’t changed with the reset.

As the weather got warmer, Billy shed his layers like a snake shedding its skin. He started coming around more often, but more and more it felt like he wasn’t just trying to be annoying but like he actually (gasp!) liked the company of Steve and his friends. Nancy might not have been his biggest fan at first, but she always got sucked into Billy and Robin’s conversations about different books. They liked recommending each other more shit to read and jesus, Steve had forgotten what a secret nerd Billy had been.

“You feeling this, Byers?” Steve asked Jonathan one lunch period when they’d been successfully iced out of a conversation about some very interesting lesbian book.

“I’m more into pictures,” he chuckled.

“Hey, you and I both.”

Jonathan and Billy would talk about music and concerts and they’d trade vinyls and tapes. Wow, was Steve really jealous of Jonathan Byers? It wasn’t like he even liked dudes. Billy fit so seamlessly into his life, it was like he was meant to be there. And he was. But every time those low-lidded, sleepy eyes landed on Steve, they turned bright and alert, pinning him in place like he was one of those butterflies in the frames his mom had all over the house. It was like Billy was studying him or something, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. It made him squirm.

Some nights, he’d show up at Steve’s house, either sweaty and crossfaded from a party or shaken up after a run-in with Neil (something Billy still hadn’t brought up). If his parents were home, he’d let Billy climb in through his window, trying not to remember all the times he’d stumbled into Nancy’s room the same way. Billy was more graceful, though, of course. What a prick.

It wasn’t until late April, when Steve was only about a month or so away from graduating, that Billy first showed up to him house perfectly okay and sober with just a baggie of weed and a pipe in his pocket. His parents were away for the next few days, but they still walked a little way into the woods before sparking up. Billy kept insisting on lighting it up for him, crowding in close until they were breathing the same humid air. More than anything, Steve just hoped that the glow from his lighter hid the blush climbing his cheeks.

It was mostly silent and the conversation didn’t really start until they were heading back. He was perfectly happy to just head back upstairs and go their separate ways because he thought that’s what Billy wanted, but then he collapsed onto one of the lawn chairs before Steve could say good night. He mumbled something unintelligible as Steve settled by the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water.

“What?”

Billy, ever the whiny little shit, groaned loudly before flopping onto his belly and gazing at Steve with a softness he hadn’t seen since before the reset. “You’re so fuckin’ weird, Harrington.”

“Thanks, man.” He turned back towards the water, the smell of chlorine mixing in his nostrils with the damp smell of the forest. It’d been drizzling all day.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you look at me like that? Like--”

“I’m not even looking at you.”

“Like you know shit I don’t or something.”

“I know you,” Steve said without thinking because it was true. He did know Billy. He’d known Billy for longer than he’d even really known himself. Nothing felt more true or real than that one simple fact.

“See?” Billy laughed wildly and when Steve looked over his shoulder at him, he was on his back with an arm covering his eyes. “Who says shit like that? Like, what does that even mean? Jesus.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I don’t like it.” When Billy pulled his arm away from his face, he was cracking the knuckles in his hand one by one over and over again. The pops echoed in Steve’s head like little exclamation marks. “What do you know, Steve, and like, how the fuck do you know it?”

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you,” he mumbled, not really expecting Billy to hear him, but he must have because then he was sitting next to Steve with his sweatpants hiked up to his thighs and his legs in the water. Steve took in the smell of his floral shampoo with a jittery breath, glancing at his lips before refocusing back on the pool.

“Try me. I’ll believe you,” Billy said in the same low tone that had gotten him so much free ice cream last time. Steve had to take money out of the tip jar on more than one occasion back then because he just couldn’t say no to him, ever. All Steve wanted was just to give Billy everything he’d ever wanted, but how could he give him this?

“You don’t know that, okay?”

“C’mon.” He nudged Steve’s shoulder with his own but Steve refused to take the bait and look at him because then he knew he’d lose any and all control over his mouth the moment he did. His heart was already beating so fast, it felt like one long vibration.

“You like sci-fi, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well.” Steve took a deep, measured breath. “I’m not from here. I mean, fuck, how did Will explain it? My body’s from here, but my uh, my mind isn’t? Or something?”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“I’m from another time. A time when I already knew you and I remember all of it. You were dead and we were… we were friends. Before you died. Uh, obviously. Yeah.”

Billy was completely silent for god knows how long. Too long. “What do you know about me?”

“A lot.”

“You said we were friends.” Steve nodded at the water, his cheeks burning with memories of their so-called friendship. “Friends like how we are now?”

Steve’s heart started up again like a motor. “N-no.” Billy fell into a dark pit of silence again and when Steve finally felt brave enough to look at him, he found him glaring at the water with keen, clear eyes. “Billy?”

“You’re full of shit. You have to be.” Billy stood just as abruptly as he’d sat at the edge of the pool while Steve stared at him slack jawed. “You’re gonna’ have to try a little harder than that, Harrington. I mean, time travel? Come on.”

“It’s true!” Steve scrambled to stand, then almost instantly regretted it when he realized just how close they were. If he could only focus, he was sure he could count each individual freckle dusting Billy’s nose.

He snorted. “Prove it.”

“You want me to prove it?” he sputtered, his mind racing as Billy nodded slowly. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, desperate to keep him there, to make Billy trust him. “Your birthday’s on June 10th. Last time, we went to Indianapolis for some artsy underground concert because you said you wanted to show me real music. And I hated it!”

“Well, you have shit taste.”

“Jesus Christ, Billy.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Your dad’s a piece of shit. You started growing out your hair as a ‘fuck you’ to him and you liked having something that was yours, but that just meant there was something else he could take away.” Billy’s face hardened and he took a step back. It was nearly summer, but the night felt so cold. “And you’re gay. And he hates that, but you don’t. I always thought it was so cool and amazing that you could still like shit about yourself because back then, I hated pretty much everything about myself. You made me feel better. We had dinner with my parents once and god, it was horrible, but afterwards we sat right out here and you told me about your mom.” The more he spoke, the farther Billy retreated into himself, slamming all his doors and windows until he was looking at Steve with the same raw, restless energy as he had that fateful night outside the Byers house so long ago. “Her name is Annabelle and you always wear her ring. You want to go back to California after graduation to try to find her. She gave you that necklace, too. After you died, Max wore it for a long time. Then I did.”

“Okay,” Billy started loudly, flicking his tongue along his bottom row of teeth like he was sharpening it. “This is freaking me out.”

“I know.”

“I think I’m gonna’ just head back to my place now.” Without another word, he turned and left. Steve called his name a few times, but he didn’t look back or even slow down.

For a while, Steve sat outside drinking and smoking and mentally kicking himself for waiting so long to have Billy back in his life just to fuck it all up. ‘Some things can’t be changed,’ he thought bitterly, over and over again. It’s not like any of it was fair. Last time, Steve got to fuck up (Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler) again (Jonathan’s camera) and again (being an asshole to the other kids at school, to Robin) and again (calling Jonathan a queer), but Billy was the one fuck-up he could never fix. But then the reset came and fixed everything!

Except Billy. It couldn’t fix him. It couldn’t bring his mom back or get him out of his dad’s house. That was why October 15th couldn’t change. Because Billy was still trapped. Would he always be trapped? Was July 4th another day that couldn’t be changed? Was he destined to just love Billy over and over again and push him away over and over again and miss him and miss him and fucking miss him over and over again? Nancy had been right, he was a fucking idiot. All this time waiting for Billy and he’d been too stupid and selfish to realize that the only reason he got to do that was because Billy was still stuck in the same shit he’d always been stuck in.

He fell asleep on the lawn chair Billy had been lying on and woke up late in the day with a sunburn. At that point, there was no reason to go to school so he just stayed home and watched I Love Lucy reruns in his room. And fuck it, it was Wednesday and he was graduating in a month, why go to school for the rest of the week? His parents wouldn’t be back until Saturday morning anyway.

It wasn’t until Friday that he got a visitor. It must’ve been around noon because his head was pounding whenever he tried to open his eyes. If he tried, he could hear a voice or two and some rattling, but he didn’t move. He drifted away again.

Pain crackled on his cheek and when he gasped awake, Robin’s face was looming over his. “You hit me,” he slurred. The living room was a lot darker now.

“Yeah, well, I also cleaned your fucking house, so. You’re welcome, dingus.” Steve chuckled, but it got cut off by a groan as he grabbed the side of his head. “I hate when you get like this,” she said softly. “And you didn’t even invite me, you asshole.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever, just get up. Your boyfriend made you dinner. Though I guess for you, it’s breakfast.”

“Don’t have a boyfriend,” he grumbled, closing his eyes again. Robin smacked him--again. “Jesus, Rob!”

“Get. Up.” There was a clattering sound in the kitchen and they both looked over.

“Billy’s here?” he whispered, watching the way the yellow light moved in the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah, dummy, he’s here.”

He sighed, covering his face with both hands. “I don’t wanna’ see him.”

“And I don’t want to be smelling your breath right now, but here we are.”

“You’re being shitty.”

“Oh, I’m being shitty. You’ve been drinking yourself stupid in here for days, didn’t bother calling me over or anything, but yeah, I’m the shitty one.” Guilt settled in his stomach like a rock and he forced himself to sit up. “Attaboy,” Robin said, shoving a glass of water in his hands. “I’ll be back.”

He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was until he took the first sip, then just like that all the water was gone. Billy and Robin were definitely talking about him in the kitchen. He could hear their intense whispering, but his ears were ringing too much for him to make out the actual words. What were the two of them doing in his house anyway? Of course Robin got in, Robin had keys because she’s his best friend, but Billy? The two of them weren’t even really friends per se. Ha, per se. Nancy would be so proud of him for sounding so smart in his head. Not the new Nancy, but the old one. The dead one.

When stepped into the golden rectangle of light in the kitchen doorway, his hair tied back and a dishrag draped over his shoulder, Steve’s breath hitched. The glass cup almost slipped out of his sweaty hands. Neither of them moved and it felt like one ridiculous game of chicken--one that Steve didn’t particularly care if he lost. Billy was waiting for him now, waiting for him to plant his feet and barrel into him, and--

“Y’know, you died in that outfit.”

“Did I?” he asked with all the fake charm he’d used on the moms at the Hawkins Community Pool, looking down at his dirty beater with a frown. “That’s a real shame.”

“It was,” he said, trying his hardest not to back down when Billy met his gaze. For once, he didn’t look violently aware like he was trying to see in a pitch black room. He just looked wide awake. “Do you believe me?”

“October 15th. Robin told me you even knew what song I’d be playing.”

Relief spread through Steve’s body like a morphine drip. “‘Rock You Like A Hurricane.’ It’s still one of my favorites.”

Billy smiled softly, his dark lashes fluttering shut. “Shut up. Come fucking eat. You look like shit and I have questions.”

He told Billy everything he wanted to know. Told him about their fight at the Byers house, Max threatening him with the nail bat, the time he’d had to crash into Billy’s car to save his friends--everything. And everything in between, too, but he saved some of those parts of the story for a time when Robin wasn’t sitting on his kitchen counter and eating a plate of pasta Billy had made. A time when the two of them were drinking beers at Lovers Lake and Steve didn’t have to be scared anymore and Billy didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t interested. They’d been outside together a lot since their talk in Steve’s kitchen and Billy’s tan had blossomed until everything about him reminded Steve of a sunflower.

When they finally kissed, it was so much like the first time, Steve almost couldn’t believe it. It was the same, but different, just like them. It entered through the eyes when Billy leaned in close, his soft gaze fluttering all over Steve’s face and always, always settling on his lips. Just like last time.

Steve brushed a hand under Billy’s light blue shirt, settling it on the small of his back and smiling at the way the warm skin twitched under his palm. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, tightening his grip just a little so Billy would know he really meant it. Just like last time.

Billy worked his fingers into Steve’s hair, tugging him closer and surging forward to claim his lips like Steve was a bright summer fruit he couldn’t get enough of. This time, they weren’t drunk. This time, it wasn’t dark. This time, they weren’t alone. The kids, Joyce, Hopper, and their friends were all closer to the water. The sound of their laughter and the mixtape Jonathan made floated over to them through the trees. The golden heat and the clean smell of the woods grounded Steve in this moment. When they both pulled away, Billy caressed his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes. Just when Steve was getting to a point where the scrutiny was making him blush, Billy pulled him close again, tucking Steve’s face into his neck and laughing.

Later, when they were all out of ice, the two of them drove into town to get some, Billy’s hand on his knee the whole time. It was on Main Street that he noticed a girl in a bright rainbow shirt that looked a lot like the one Max liked to wear. She had long brown hair and she was standing in front of Melvald’s, cupping her hands to peer inside. Before she even turned around, he was running across the street towards her.

He’d been right. Her name was Jane now, officially. Nothing had been stolen from her, except for all of them. When Steve hugged her, she fell into his arms with tears in her eyes. He held her close to his chest with a hand in her hair just like he had all those years ago at the reset. She’d been crying then, too, and so scared, she couldn’t stop shaking. Now, though, when she pulled away, she was just laughing breathlessly and wiping her tears away with a sweet smile.

“How are they?” she asked simply and Steve thought of all of them laughing by the lake and Billy in the convenience store getting ice and probably a pack of Lucky Strike menthols, too.

“They’re so happy, El.”

#mine #harringrove #with a dash of #ronance #and!#elmax #i really wanna expand this story but that's for another time

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mixtapekings · 4 years

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Listen Review of Run The Jewels’ ‘RTJ4’ Album by djbooth.net

“…a shotgun blast to the face.”

Run The Jewels thrives on the spirit of rebellion. The duo, consisting of Atlanta rapper Killer Mike and New York rapper/producer El-P, has grown from indie one-off to one of the most impressive second winds in rap history. Their music finds the middle ground between cartoonish purist rap thrills and anarchic grit. At their very best, Mike and El-P will have you ready to burn everything in sight.

While RTJ’s music has always maintained an anti-establishment bent, the aggression on their 2016 album Run the Jewels 3, in particular, was channeled through the prism of revolt. In the wake of the deaths of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown and the election of the 45th President of the United States, RTJ’s lawless spirit made them, however unintentionally, uniquely suited to address a world coming apart at the seams.

In the face of Armageddon, RTJ’s message hit differently. Four years later, with another wave of protests taking place in response to Black death looming large over the world, Run the Jewels are offering their fourth album, aptly titled RTJ4.

The public needs music directly speaking to the times. Mike and El’s timing is perfect; the stakes have never been higher. Let’s see if the Jewel Runners are up to the challenge.

In usual 1-Listen fashion, the rules are the same: no rewinds, pauses, or skips—a straight shot through followed by my gut reactions. Let’s ride.

1. “Yankee & The Brave (ep. 4)”

Killer Mike opening with DaBaby speed. Man, these drums are THUMPING. “I’mma terrorize the actors playing like they want some drama.” No holds barred. Mike and El-P play rap hot potato like no other. El is floating. “I’m ready to mob on all these charlatans.” The beat sounds like a John Carpenter score stripped for parts and hooked to some boomers. “I can’t let the pig take me, I got too much pride / I meant it when I said it, never take me alive.” This exact energy is what I was hoping for. Revolt music right off rip. No brakes, all nitrous. “Yankee & The Brave” is how you open an album.

2. “Ooh LA LA” feat. Greg Nice & DJ Premier

Did El-P source his drums from fucking mortars? These boys are monstrous. El’s beats are big enough to walk through. I don’t like this hook. Greg Nice’s voice is grating. “When we usher in chaos, remember we did it smiling.” They may be smiling, but Mike and El sound pissed. “Ooh LA LA” isn’t playful music; it’s angry. This song doesn’t leave me shaking the way “Yankee & The Brave” did, but it’s still a nice jolt of catharsis. Premier scratches are always a plus. I’m glad he’s still so revered by rappers across generations.

3. “Out of Sight” feat. 2 Chainz

El-P made a beat out of jumping vocal cuts that would sound at home on a post-apocalyptic workout tape. He never fails to impress. I love hearing references to Public Enemy’s “My Uzi Weighs A Ton.” Mike and El are trading off lines. “I’m only doing what I want by hocking loogies at the swine.” I see why they wanted to push this project up two days. Forget “F*ck The Police,” this is FUCK THE FUCKING COPS. Mike caught a CRAZY flow and held onto it forever. The energy is stabbing me in the chest. If you’ve ever downed a bag of Pop Rocks with nails inside, then, and only then, will you understand the power of “Out Of Sight.” Here comes 2 Chainz. One mention of growing up in poverty, but the rest of his verse is just soulless flexing. It’s not 2 Chainz’ fault, but I’m not tryna hear his verse right now.

4. “Holy Calamafuck”

A reggae sample to start things off. And everything just devolved into a 404 error. The beat is actively falling apart. A line about jacking Supreme jackets and calling out hypebeasts. Are those record scratches or Windows 95 program glitches? I can’t keep my head straight. A line about drones and time elves. “Every other goddamn year I’m brand new / It’s been 20-plus years, you think that’s a clue?” TALK YOUR SHIT, EL. Since the Def Jux days. Mike and El stood the test of time, gotta respect it. These two were born to rap together. “PTSD, streets did the damage.” Mike is pouring his heart out. If the streets run red with blood, “Holy Calamafuck” will be the soundtrack.

5. “Goonies vs. E.T.”

These drums and synths were sourced from space. Mike and El are rapping for their lives. “Goonies vs. E.T.” is pure fucking chaos. How did they keep their heads together recording over this beat? E.T.’s healing touch couldn’t help them. The hook’s not doing much for me—it feels like dead space—but the beat is breathing. Man, this shit is manic. I’m on a sugar high. “The revolution is televised and digitized.” All facts. Mike has one of the most potent rap voices. I can’t see his face, but I know there’s fire in his eyes. “This is people with an attitude in Beverly Hills.” Making people uncomfortable is progress.

6. “Walking In The Snow”

A nice crunchy guitar riff to incite more chaos. The beat just cracked open, and now it sounds like a fucking Tesla coil. I feel more compelled to type the word “fuck” than I ever have during a review. “All oppression’s borne of lies.” El has been talking that talk all across this shit. El sounds like a preacher. “Just got done walking in the snow / Goddamn that muhfucka cold.” Who’s rapping on the hook? OH SHIT, IT’S GANGSTA BOO. Nice surprise. OG needs more love. “Every day on the evening news, they feed you fear for free.” Mike is laying everything out. “I can’t breathe.” That line really hurt. “The most you get is a Twitter rant and called a tragedy.” He’s just talking at this point. Brutal. I know he was fighting back the tears rapping this one. The beat is mutating like crazy. I can’t keep up—breathless rap music at its finest. I love love LOVE this song, holy shit.

7. “Ju$t” feat. Zach De La Rocha & Pharrell Williams

It’s the famous four-count! Pharrell must’ve had a hand in production along with El-P. Pharrell’s voice doesn’t fit into the cracks of this hook; it’s distracting. “Look at all these slave masters posing on your dollar.” Mike is doing call-and-response with himself. He’s talking about corporations co-opting marijuana and pedophiles in high places. “Confuscious say you’d better thug out.” That got me. El has a thing for turning voices into drum patterns. These beats are fun but they will also turn around and rip your throat out if you try them. Here comes Mr. Rage himself, Zach De La Rocha. His voice cuts through everything. I love how analog his voice sounds. He sounds fired up. I’ll take another Rage Against the Machine album, please. Without Pharrell, “Ju$t” would be close to perfect.

8. “Never Look Back”

A little techno bounce to start “Never Look Back.” All I can see in my head is Tron light cycles burning digitized vapors. Was that a Pop Smoke bar? His death still hurts. Mike and El managing to rap about current events and not sound lame is amazing. No other rapper their age could pull off a TikTok bar. Mike is rapping about his mother. Did she pass? Man, that’s heavy. So that’s why it’s called “Never Look Back.” “All that matter is gratitude. Gratitude is everything.” Who’s speaking right now? Can’t make it out. El is talking about how he never saw class or race as a child. Mike follows with, “Never look back, you’ll only be bitter / If you get bitter, you’ll never get better.” They’re confronting demons. RTJ4 feels as immediate and punchy as Mike and El’s respective solo work. Ending with a ticking timer, always coming through with the relief.

9. “The Ground Below”

Is this nu-metal I’m hearing? These guitars and smashing drums are super silly, even by RTJ standards. They rapping, though. “Screaming fuck the world and you can drink what’s coming from my urethra.” El always knows how to rap familiar shit differently. “Not saying it’s a conspiracy but you’re all against me.” Funny. A weird melange of sounds and images, and I’m not sure what to make of it. The raps are crazy, and the beat is kinda growing on me. Easy to believe them saying, “The money never meant much” when they’ve been giving out their albums for free since 2013.

10. “Pulling The Pin” feat. Josh Homme & Mavis Staples

Okay, last two tracks. If you’re gonna name a track “Pulling The Pin,” there’d better be an explosion. Ominous marching and some warbled vocals. “These old foxes got a lot of plots to outfox us.” El hit that Aesop Rock flow real quick. Those chorus vocals are ghostly. Josh Homme is a name I haven’t heard in a long time. Shout out Queens of The Stone Age. “Every cage built needs an occupant.” Is that Mavis Staples? It is! Her vocals are so rich. Staples finding space in this interstellar mayhem is wild. Mavis is my favorite feature so far. There’s much less frivolous shit-talking this time, especially from Mike. “Kicking and screaming while watching the demons collecting the gold and the diamond residuals.” Career-best rapping from Mike. More Mavis, thank God. “There’s a grenade in my heart.”

11. “A Few Words for The Firing Squad (Radiation)”

RTJ4 has been a ride. Ending with the firing squad can’t be a good sign. El starts with a short tribute to his wife. Touching. Mike back to rapping about asking his mom to cling to life. His kids, his wife, and his craft have made him a better man. These are death-bed confessions set to music. Mike and El must be rapping blindfolded, standing in front of the wall and the firing squad. Heartbreaking. “Last word to the firing squad was ‘Fuck you, too.’” Kicking and screaming. It sounds like we’re going out with a big instrumental explosion—saxophone, brass, and reverbed synths and choirs. This is BIG.

Where do Mike and El find the energy to keep expanding their sound like this?

Oh, we’re not done yet.

A narrator is laying down the story of two rebels forced together by the odds. They’re still running with this Yankee & The Brave angle. It’s playing like an end credits song. So… The whole thing’s been a TV show? I’ll admit, this takes away some from the immediacy of Mike and El’s message.

Final (First Listen) Thoughts On Run the Jewels’ RTJ4:

Run the Jewels dropping their fourth album in the middle of a global pandemic and a nationwide uprising is perfect.

The duo crafted a potent mix of braggadocio and political and personal reflection set to beats made for video game boss battles. Both Mike and El deliver career-best work behind the mic, and El-P’s production has only grown more expansive.

Golden-era boom-bap (“Out of Sight,” “Holy Calamafuck”), and murky synth-scapes (“Never Look Back”) are flayed and split open to create digitized warzones. They’re as frantic and restless as the rappers pushing them to their limits.

From beginning to end, RTJ4 is a shotgun blast to the face; an album to turn up to 11 while the precincts burn. Pent-up emotions shoot through every bar, every beat, and every second of breathing room. The anti-police sentiment couldn’t be more timely.

The only time the momentum drags on RTJ4 is when other voices cram into the frame. Several features are either inappropriate (2 Chainz on “Out of Sight”) or distracting (Pharrell on “Ju$t”).

Unintentionally, the running motif of the Yankee & The Brave TV show stifles some of the immediacy from Mike and El’s best verses to date. Maybe the TV show angle will age better in a world where the president didn’t just declare war on his fellow citizens.

Minor missteps aside, Mike and EL understand the stakes at hand. RTJ4 mixes the punchy and the profoundly personal with cartoonish zeal, EPMD by way of Adult Swim’s Superjail!

Politically and musically, Run the Jewels are done asking for favors. RTJ4 is five-finger discount rap at its finest.

from Listen Review of Run The Jewels’ ‘RTJ4’ Album by djbooth.net

#Albums #News #DJ Booth #djbooth.net #feature #Killer Mike #RTJ4 #Run The Jewels #Yoh Phillips

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