"-And then she went 'I'm sorry, Steve, but I have a boyfriend.' and I've not seen her since then. Then Alexandra, the other one, just very obviously wasn't interested."
"You know, I don't think the first one is entirely your problem. It sounds like that's on her."
"It's like they've all of a sudden woken up with preferences? Like, am I not good enough for them anymore? The previous king of Hawkins High, most desirable guy in school, is right within reach, but they're attracted to literally any other guy like a moth to flame. Am I doing something wrong here, Robin? Have I seriously stooped that low?"
Steve Harrington was not in the greatest of moods. Unfortunately, only moments before the sudden outburst of commotion, yet another of his numerous dates had come clean with an already existing partner and the whole experience had just menacingly torn through his last strand of being able to cope with it. The dam had broken loose, and the river was powering through.
There he paced, slap-bang in the middle of the Family Video storefront. It was a solemn day, the low mood of the two workers not adding to the addition of the cheer, and the opposing staff member was falling deeper into the thought of snapping at him completely.
"Steve... shut up."
"-but it's actually tragic because I've been single for nearly two years now. Do you realise how long that is?"
His coworker huffed, stretching out her arms across the counter from her seat, head buried deep in sleeve fabric as she suppressed a groan.
"You're literally talking to the person who's never been in a relationship. Of course I know how long it is. Now be quiet and stock those shelves before I give you the most realistic piece of advice I could give, and admit to you that you're completely repulsive."
As much as Robin Buckley gleamed in satisfaction at giving her closest friend the best advice he's ever been gifted with time after time (about literally any other topic- she might add), Steve's continuous rant- which had been blooming for nearly months at that point- had quite simply become another tone to ring in her ears.
In that given moment, mixed with the recent act of having become quite conscious at her own lack of partner and the pure headache she was forming, Buckley snapped, and Harrington hushed.
"Fine, yeah, sorry."
"Might I add- I do know the story. You bored us with it at Eddie's the other week, too. You go on dates, they turn out shit. They have boyfriends, they want to stay friends, they're just not interested in you. You twist it every time you speak it, Steve. Should've listened to Eddie and admitted that you were doomed there and then."
Steve silenced for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin to gently scratch the area.
"I did admit it. I just didn't say that I did."
"You are a mystery for the ages, I swear to God."
"- I was also baked."
"Yeah. Yeah you were."
A downpour of rain thrashed against the wall-length windows, clouds overhead rhythmically lighting and darkening the space where the two were working. Stray stockpiles of merchandise lay abandoned, the hope of organisation long in the past. As Robin straightened herself up to sit normally in her chair once again, she sighed.
Summer. The time everyone longed for for all of fall, all of winter, all of spring... but just as quickly as it had arrived, so had the woman's longing for the colder months.
On one side of things, the unexpected summer rain had seemed to brighten up the length of the wait, but yet again, she knew it wouldn't last. Which bought her to the other side of things: it was still summer.
No particular reason for the minimal hatred, perhaps the socialising, perhaps the heat. It just wasn't Robin's thing, she had quickly come to realise.
A hidden voice from behind a stocked aisle all of a sudden made itself known. Full of enthusiasm, Steve Harrington began talking again.
"Did you know," he rose from his kneeling position, double VHS in palm of hand. "That it is T-minus fourteen days until the whole gang is back together again for the first time? Well, for the first time, meaning since the whole series of events, etcetera etcetera."
It had been nearly a year since the last reunion. Nothing much had changed, Hawkins was pretty much the same as it always had been- apart from the people involved. Many of the group were in the lowest state they'd ever been in, and it wasn't to surprise. Max had been permanently wheelchair-ridden and Lucas had become her personal chaperone- which he actually didn't seem to mind. Dustin and Eddie had become closer since the incident in which the older one of the two had nearly met his demise in what Henderson had named the 'Final Bat-tle', and Steve had become broody. Literally just broody.
Upon inspection, maybe it was only Robin who was at her lowest.
"That's nice." Came a tired reply.
Harrington paused in his tracks like something had clocked in his head- like he had finally realised that something was up with his co-worker.
"Are you okay?"
His voice was gentle, tinted with the slightest hint of concern.
Robin turned towards the new-found calm. Her hair brushed upon her shoulders as she lowered her chin to watch dully as her fingers worked a loose thread which was etching from its material.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine... why wouldn't I be?"
Expression grew attentive.
"You sure? I know you're normally miserable at at least some point in the day, but you always let me know that you're okay with a casual choice of sharp gesture."
"I'm fine, Steve." She confirmed, turning back towards where she was previously positioned. "Just tired- promise."
Silence perused them both.
"Alrighty," It broke, "If you're sure."
"-which I am."
"Figured."
Even though, from then on, no physical noise was transmitting into the atmosphere around them, voices still echoed around her head like a fly which just could not be swatted. Desperate to change the internal monologue of conversation and block out the thought of being surrounded by people she knew all too well yet again, Robin decided to stand and take a brisk leave towards the backroom doors. What lay beyond them sat only a small office and storage cupboard, but none the less, it was an ideal hidden-from-view area when anyone needed just a little time to their own thoughts and feelings. Sometimes her life felt like a simulation, and she just didn't know why.
The papers pinned on the cork board placed within fluttered with the draft of the closing door. It was deathly silent, the only noise being a low rumble of customers on the storefront and the rare passing of a vehicle not too far away.
It was peaceful, quiet, safe.
But not for long.
Robin took a seat on one of the plush chairs just beside the door. The opposing end of the red material was littered with unfinished paperwork and lost VHS which were supposed to be tackled back into their rightful places weeks before, but unsurprisingly, never got directed. For a moment, the earth laid still.
She didn't know what was wrong with her. There was absolutely nothing in the world that could be bothering her in that moment apart from the minuscule nerves of the two week countdown, and it got her thinking about whether she actually knew these people at all.
Yes, they all had shared trauma, but the outcome of the eruption had been stored deep below the surface for a long time previous and had sprouted in completely contrasting ways. Does anyone even know someone as much as they think they do? The thought had bought new questions into Buckley's spouting stream of brainwaves.
With a deep breath, Robin leaned back, angle tilted slightly to the still-overflowing cork board. She scanned the area, skimming over a selective portion of a few words until she paused directly in the middle. Sat uneven from the numerous mountains of paper, lay the pièce de Résistance of the whole dispiriting display: a gift that they had received not too long ago, a drawing of the entirety of the party, illustrated by Will and El.
William Byers and Eleven Hopper were currently taking base in Lenora, California. Their parents, who weren't yet married, but had been in a long term relationship, were switching locations as often as Robin and Steve had to rewind returned rentals. Robin assumed that it was just the aspect of not wanting to commit to anything, as her out of anyone knew how scary that subject was. But even on the subject, there were very present rumours of the continuing home-setting in Hawkins. Final decision kinda rumours. Which would be nice, Buckley thought, taking into consideration the cost and the constant lack of someone who is almost always needed as soon as they leave. The thought of having everyone home, even if it did feel crowded, felt comforting, although it was just a tad.
They would just have to wait two more weeks. If the two parents, trailed by their own kids and one that wasn't theirs, only visiting, came home followed by haul trucks full of belongings, then they'd have their answer.
No belongings- staying in Lenora. Belongings- moving back to Hawkins.
The drawings were fairly well plotted. Without being rude, you could very obviously tell who had drawn who, but it just added to the speciality of the piece.
Will, who had been doodling for pretty much his whole life, had taken the task of drawing his previous Middle-school friends, along with Robin, Jonathan, Nancy and Steve- and El had very happily taken on the task of drawing those closest to her; Herself, Max, Mike, Will and Eddie.
Munson was a mystery on the closeness scale, but Eleven's rougher drawing style very much fit his idiomatic self.
It was nice to watch the still life in the portrait, knowing that the coloured lines had never had the chance to think negatively, or had had to endure the fear inducing thoughts that their physical forms had done.
They were pieces trapped in time; pieces so naive to the world that they didn't even know they were in it.
She looked to herself, and then over to Steve, over to Jonathan, and then over to... Nancy.