nighttime | byler

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will byers had always loved the nighttime. 

he thought it was beautiful. with the stars sparkling across the sky like a canvas, and the absence of the sun replaced with the moon. he liked the way that as the sun started to set, hues of purples, pinks, and dark blues spread across the sky like watercolour paint on paper. 

he would sometimes fill a bag with his art supplies and head to the quarry alone. he sat at the edge and would stare up at the sky, watching the clouds dissolve into stars and midnight blue taking over what was cerulean before. when everything had faded and it was a perfect twilight, will would take a pencil and his large sketchbook and draw the landscape, making sure to include the tips of the shadowy trees. 

each night, if he did not head to the quarry, will would slide open his window and sit on a chair next to it, his hand holding up his face on the sill as he watched the sky transform. 

joyce had always encouraged will's love for the night. she said it brought out his unique personality and helped him draw and paint. 

sometimes, when he made his late night expeditions to the quarry, jonathon and his current newest camera would be dragged along. the boys would work together; jonathon taking photos of the night sky for will's future references while will complimented his brother's skills and added the silhouette of his body to the drawing he was creating. 

when will first got his record player, shiny brown wood and impeccable quality, the first thing he thought was, i'll have to bring this to the quarry with me. and so, he did. joyce, jonathon and will went to the record store and bought quite a few records, which will cherished deeply. 

each night he carefully slid the record player into its box, taking along a record or two, and brought it along with him. the music soothed his ears, relaxing his mind and helped his art quality be the best it could be.