This Year is My Year

Pre-Show Jitters

I sat in class, staring out the window, lost in thought. I could not stop thinking about Y/N Henderson.

Dinner was a blast - Y/N delighted us with stories of her travels. She left Hawkins two years ago to go to school in Chicago. She was there for a couple of weeks before she realized that the structure and monotony was not for her. She dropped out, packed her car, and travelled the United States.

Her mother, the actual Ms. Henderson, was beside herself, throwing away every postcard Y/N sent home. Her and Dustin communicated primarily through letters and phone calls when she was near a phone booth. Then, two days ago, she was at a small diner in Texas where someone told her they were from Hawkins, Indiana. Homesickness and missing her brother overwhelmed her, and she decided then and there she was coming back home. She drove fourteen hours straight to get home to Dustin.

"Mr. Munson? Are you with us?" My heart burst at the now familiar nickname Y/N had given me. I was pulled out of thought, and turned to Mrs. Crout, my English teacher. She was one of the few teachers I liked.

"Yes, sorry, Mrs. Crout." Her face pulled into a concerned grimace, and she went back to teaching The Great Gatsby.

The bell rang twenty minutes later, and I gathered my things to head to lunch. On my way out, I smiled at Mrs. Crout.

"Pay more attention next week, Mr. Munson. Hope that the girl you're daydreaming about is better than the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald."

I flushed, stuttering protests. Mrs. Crout smiled wide and nodded for me to leave. I was mortified, storming down the hallway, my head down.

I stepped into the cafeteria, one of my least favorite places of Hawkins High. This was a feat - I hated most places in Hawkins High. The lunchroom, however, was a bevy of minefields - one wrong move, and I could bump into a popular kid, or, worse, a jock. I sped past Jason Carver's table, noticing Lucas Sinclair sitting with him. I sneered.

I took my place at the head of the Hellfire table, my respite in the nightmare that is high school. Gareth slapped me on the back, welcoming me. I smiled. Sure, being in high school for six years sucks, but it brought me to my island of freaks.

I took some pretzels from Gareth's tray, picking up a magazine from the table. The main story was how D&D was causing a rash of terrible crimes and satanic worship. I bristled, an unbridled anger boiling in me.

"What the hell is this?" I asked. Jeff shrugged.

"Society has to blame something, man. And we're an easy target."

"Oh we're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game?" I started to get heated, standing up. "But if you're into band," I stomped up on top of the table, "Science, or parties."

I turned my attention to Jason and his table, the anger fueling me.

"Or a GAME WHERE YOU TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS!" Jason stood, acting brave.

"You want something, freak?" That insult never hurt me. I wore it with pride. I made a face at him before turning back and pacing back to the end of the table.

"It's forced conformity - that's what's killing the kids." I yelled before jumping off the table and getting back into my seat.

"Shit, you're revved up today." I snapped my head up to Dustin. I stared blankly at him while he nervously laughed. "Well, speaking of D&D and...um, well, Lucas has his, you know, laundry baskets, and, uh - "

Mike stepped in.

"And there's no way we can defeat your demonic campaign without his help."

"Can someone get to the point here?" I asked, still riding my residual anger.

"We were thinking -"

"Yeah, we were thinking -"

"Point. Now."

"We need to postpone." Dustin finally said. I leaned back, raising my eyebrows. Dustin realized the mess he stepped in, and started to try to defend his request. I stopped him.

"So Sinclair goes to the dark side," I loomed over the table, "And you want me to postpone one of the greatest campaigns we've had?"

Mike and Dustin sunk into their seats. I came around the side of the table, putting my arms around them.

"We are not postponing," I seethed. "We are graduating at the end of the year, and you all are the future of the club."

I pulled them up by their collars and started walking them towards the school hallway.

"So you go out there, and you find us a sub for Sinclair," I turned them back to me, "Or you don't come back at all."

Mike gulped.

"We have to find a sub? How are we going to find a sub?" Dustin whined. I flashed a smile.

"Don't know. Don't care. Don't come back until you have them." I sent them on their way.

I walked back to my seat, sinking down, and feeling a twinge of guilt for how I spoke to the little ones.

I really hope they find a sub - I didn't want to postpone.

---

I was setting up the game board, placing the club's figurines in accordance to where they typically sit. I had the same pre-show jitters that I get before my shows at the Hideout - I loved being the dungeon master for Hellfire. It was going to be one of the few things I missed about high school.

Members started trickling in - Jeff came over and gave me a high five.

"I'm so pumped, dude. I can't wait to close this one out tonight." My chest filled with pride - I loved that they enjoyed my storytelling.

"Yeah, well we will see if you guys live through it!" I laughed and they joined in. "Or if Henderson and Wheeler find a sub."

We sat, making idle chit chat as we waited. My jitters turned into dread - were they not able to find someone?

Dustin burst through the doors, beaming ear to ear.

"We did it, Eddie! We found the sub!" Mike followed him, celebrating as well. I grinned back and clapped my hands together.

"Great news, little ones!" I cheered. I looked behind them. "But where are they?"

"Dustin Henderson!" My heart twitched at the voice. "You cannot expect me to remember how to get around this school, let alone get to the 'dungeon room', without your help."

Y/N came through the doors, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. My jitters were now full blown panic - how could Dustin do this to me? I was suddenly embarrassed by my hobby, my role as the dungeon master. There's no way I could pull this off with her there.

"Oh my god, Y/N, I get it, I'm sorry, I was just excited!" Dustin quipped back. She rolled her eyes. Dustin turned to the group. "Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is everyone!"

She looked around and said hello, the rest of the group nervously saying hello. She locked eyes with me, and her face broke into a smile. That smile.

"Mr. Munson! I'm most excited to see you in action tonight." My stomach dropped and I tried to smile. I cannot believe I was going to fail in front of her.

"Oh, gosh, Y/N - I mean, Ms. Henderson," I croaked, fumbling over my words, "I don't want you to get your hopes up-"

"Don't listen to him," Mike interrupted, "Eddie's an incredible DM. One of the best."

The rest of the club joined in on the praise that would normally make me feel tall with pride. I absolutely hated every one of them in the moment. I looked down at the table, the dorky figurines, and my pages of notes.

"I believe you, guys," Her voice was sweet. I looked up, and she was still smiling at me, watching me blush. "I think he's just trying to get me to bring my guard down so he can hustle me."

That is what finally brought a smile to my face. I mustered the resolve to fake confidence, sauntered over, and put my hand out.

"Welcome to Hellfire."