Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - The Invitation
The envelope arrives on Wednesday, tucked between a grocery flyer and a bill Joyce swears she paid. Its thin, white, and stamped with the state seal in crisp black ink. Will almost throws it out, thinking its junk mail from some college trying to get him to apply late. But then he sees his name, William Byers, printed neatly across the front.
"Mom?" He calls from the kitchen. "Did you sign me up for something?"
Joyce pokes her head around the corner, hair a little frazzled from a morning shift. "Not that I remember. Why?"
Will turns over the envelope. "I think it's real."
Jonathan wanders in, rubbing sleep from his eyes even though it's noon. "Dude, open it."
Will swallows hard and tears it open. A glossy sheet slides into his hands, brighter and more official looking than anything he's ever held. The statewide youth art exhibition announcement. He reads the words three times before they make sense.
"We are pleases to inform you that your submission has been selected as one of fifteen finalists for the Indiana Young Artists' Exhibition..."
He stops reading. His heart stutters.
"Holy shit," Jonathan mutters. "Will, that's amazing!"
Joyce joins, her eyes wide and shining. "Will! This is incredible!"
Will stares at the letter like it might change on him. Him. A finalist. His art. On a wall where people will actually look at it. And suddenly he feels sick.
"It's probably a mistake," he mumbles, sliding the paper back into the envelope with trembling fingers. "They must've mixed me up with someone else."
Joyce shakes her head. "Will, honey, no. They picked you because you're talented." She comes closer, placing her hands on his shoulders, grounding him. "This is a good thing."
But Will can't shake the knot forming in his stomach. The pieces he submitted... most of them weren't easy things. Colours bruised with memory, shapes warped by the upside down, shadows curled around familiar silhouettes. And then there's the piece he hasn't shown anyone, the one he's afraid they'll ask him to display. The one that looks a lot like -
"Are you gonna tell your friends?" Jonathan asks.
Will opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.
Mike. How could he tell Mike?
Before he can spiral further, the doorbell rings. Three short bursts. He knows exactly who it is, nobody else rings like that.
Joyce grins. "Speak of the devil."
Will's pulse jumps. "Mom, don't tell him."
But it's too late. Joyce us already bustling towards the front door, envelope in hand. Will covers his face with both palms and groans.
Mike walks in a second later, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair a little windblown like he biked here in a hurry. He beams when he sees Will.
"Hey! I brought your math notes because Mr. Loomis said he'd flunk you if you kept missing quizzes. Again."
He stops, noticing the envelope Joyce is holding out like a trophy.
"What's that?"
Joyce nudges Will. "Go on. Tell him."
Will glares at her but knows he has no choice. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Mike's eyes. "It's, um... something about an art thing. State exhibition. They... accepted one of my pieces."
Mike's reaction I'd immediate and explosive. "What?" Are you serious?! Will, that's amazing!" He practically leaps across the room and grabs the envelope, scanning it like he expects confetti to fall out. "Will, this is huge! This is, you're like, this is actual real recognition. Holy shit!"
Will feels his face heat up. Mike always gets like this, loud, bright, unstoppable, and Will never knows what to do with the way it makes his chest feel full.
"It's not that big a deal," Will mutters, taking the envelope back.
"Yes it is," Mike insists. "You're going to be in a real gallery. With real artists. People are going to see your stuff and be like, 'woah, this kid I incredible.' Which you are."
Will meets his eyes for half a second and looks away fast. Too bright. Too warm. Too much.
Joyce claps her hands. "They want him to bring several pieces, actually. And they said he can have someone help set up his section."
Mike lights up even more, if that's possible. "I'll help. Obviously."
Will's heart drops into his stomach. "Mike, you don't have to-"
"No, I want to," Mike says immediately. "I mean, you always help me with everything. I want to do something for you for once."
Will wishes Mike wouldn't say things like that with so much sincerity. It make hope flutter in places Will promised himself he'd keep locked up.
"Okay," he says quietly. "If you really want to."
Mike grins. "Of course I do. When do we start?"
Joyce waves the letter. "They want the pieces assembled by next week."
Mike nods like this is perfectly reasonable. "Then we're starting today."
Will freezes. "Today?"
"Yeah! We can go through what you want to display, pick the strongest ones. Easy."
Easy. Sure. If Mike Wheeler staring directly at the most intimate parts of Will's soul could ever be easy.
Jonathan laughs under his breath. "Have fun, guys."
Will shoots him a look that says I will absolutely not have fun, but Mike's already grabbing his backpack.
"Come on, Will the wise. Show me what you've got."
Will takes a deep breath. His palms are sweating. His heart is racing.
He's not ready for Mike to see those pieces, especially not the final one. The one with soft shadows, gentle lines, and a face Mike knows better than anyone.
But ready or not...
Mike is already heading towards Will's room. Will follows him, anxiety swirling with something else, a warm, helpless pull he can't quite name.
The door clicks shut behind them.
Knowing what's coming, Will feels like he's standing on the edge of something enormous. And for one, it's not a monster.