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“Excuse me? Can you recommend a good horror movie? I’m pretty lost here and a little indecisive.”
Steve saw the bird's nest of light brown hair first, clipped up and styled upon the top of the girl's head. Bangles of bracelets knock against the counter of the Family Video. Steve noticed her eyes, shy smile—eh, cute. He thought for a moment.
“Well, what kind of night are you looking for?” Steve turned on the hollow charm he had learned over years of practice.
“I don’t know, what are the options?” She giggles, leaning against the counter. Steve’s practically pulled in with opportunity.
“Well,” Steve drags out, “if you want something yucky and gross, The Fly will have you grossed out and screaming. If you want something a little cuter, Gremlins is also a good choice.”
Steve spews out his minimal knowledge, learned from working here for the past few months; most of it he’s copied from Robin's rants to customers. And Eddie insists on needing to “know” the classics. He points to the cute plush of a tiny gremlin, forcing out the most charming smile he can, “See, cute.”
The girl smiles, she’s amused, at least. Steve takes it for now. She messed with her bangle bracelets, letting them clack against her nails. “Well, my boyfriend's sick on the couch right now so I don’t want him running to the toilet every few minutes.”
Steve leans back, the charm in his face drops, and his smile no longer reaches his eyes.
One more point for Robin.
Steve Harrington's journey to a date has led him down some scary, embarrassing, and borderline dangerous paths. What once used to be an easy feat has turned into a horrible and way overtracked challenge. The “you suck” sign had honestly started to plague his nightmares at night. Somehow the word “my boyfriend” followed by a giggle or smile had become a real-life trigger word for Steve.
So Steve felt his pride crumble for the 3rd time this week as he checked out Gremlins for the pretty girl with the bangle bracelet—who has a boyfriend.
“It’s just getting sad at this point, Harrington,” Eddie smirks from aside from him, leaning far back in a chair behind the counter. The Shining plays behind him as he fidgets with the homemade pins on his Family Video vest. “Your fall from the throne has just been, woof…”
“It’s not that bad, I mean, if she were single then I would have had that!” Steve defends himself. A stressed-out hand runs through his hair.
Then the jingle of the bell on the entry door echoes through his ears, Steve slaps on a smile and turns around to greet the incoming customer. “Welcome to—“
“Drop the script, dingus, I’m just here to clock in.” Robin waved him off as she sped-walked into the back, obviously reluctant to be at work today.
Eddie jumps up from his seat, “thank god, that means—“ he checks his watch, breaking out in a sing-song voice, “I am free!”
Steve flips him the bird as he walks around the counter and heads to the door like a bull out of the gates.
Eddie's back hits the door, “Good luck, Harrington. I mean it, one day… one day.”
Steve plucks a pencil from a cup next to the register, promptly chucking it at the curly-headed boy. Eddie smiles and laughs when it hits his shoulder before he’s out the door and on the way home, or to the bar, or band practice. Steve couldn't keep track anymore, spending all his time in the VHS-covered hellhole. Even if he could score a date from any living-breathing woman that walks through those doors, he’d probably never have the time. Steve is practically halfway to store manager at this point.
“How bad has it been? How many marks are on the board?” Robin says, shrugging her sickly green vest on. It was noon yet, and she looked as if she had just woken up, which was probably true.
“Ya’ don’t gotta mark anything!” Steve protested.
Yet, Robin still pulled the whiteboard from under the desk. As she marks another tally under “you suck” it’s like a deep cut on his skin. It almost physically burned him.
Robins tsks Steve, shaking her head and letting her already messy hair fall in her face. “It’s tragic, truly.”
“It’s not. You guys are just so focused on my love life it’s honestly getting obsessive,” he grumbles, slipping into his chair. “I’d like to see you or Eddie try and pick someone here instead of teasing me for my failures.”
Robin laughs, “Well, as you should know, my so-called best friend, my mind is occupied. And well, Eddie's options are pretty slim—I mean, how many people come in here wearing black handkerchiefs?”
“Excuses…” Steve mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.
The door bells jingle again, and Steve pops his head up in an instant. His eyes find the body that walked in and his breath hitches. Thank god for his stubborn nature, truly.
Maybe it’s the lighting, the way the sun is shining on your face, outlining your body like you were a goddamn angel. Walking in with strides of confidence and a smile that men used to go to war for. Your eyes find him, and instead of anywhere else you walk towards him. To hopefully ask him a question that doesn’t end with “for my boyfriend.”
You're only a few steps from the counter when your eyes shift and they light up, “Hey, Robin!” You’re holding two VHSs in your hands, dropping them on the counter to the left of him as Robin greets you. “I meant to drop these off yesterday, hopefully I’m in no trouble.”
“Never.” Robin smiled at you, taking the film from your hand. “How ya been? Did you enjoy Blue Velvet for what? The 3rd time now?”
“I can’t help it. I’m in a seriously committed relationship with David lynch.” You say.
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with Kyle Maclachlan." Robin teases, her head cocking to the side knowingly. Her words pull a hearty giggle from you.
“Shhhh…” you shush her, a lighthearted joke between two seemingly close friends, except Robin is his best friend and you have never been mentioned before. To Steve’s very unfortunate knowledge. “Well, anyways, I gotta run but I’ll be back, yeah?”
“Oh, you know I await you every week!” Robin dramatically declares as you're backing up to leave already.
“I'm truly touched. Be still my heart!” You laugh, clutching your chest before slipping out the door.
Already gone. Away from Steve’s grasp and Robin had completely stomped on any chance he had to turn on that charm. Her title as wing-women had been officially revoked, as if it wasn’t a few weeks ago when Robin out loud cackled behind a shelf after a badly worded flirt from Steve. Either way, not even an introduction to possibly the most beautiful women who walked through those doors.
“Steve. You’re drooling.”
Steve snaps out of his gaze, seeing Robin gives him that knowing smirk she loves so much.
“Who was that?” Steve asks, wiping his chin just in case.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Robin teased with a dramatic head shake, walking away from him to put away the two VHS tapes you had just dropped off.
Steve stumbled around the corner to follow after, only seeming a tiny bit desperate. Pathetic and desperate had been his defining traits recently, why not own it?
“Yes, yes, I really would.” He affirms, despite that obvious teasing manner. Steve didn’t care, he just needed a name and a relationship status.
Robin turns to him, pushing a tape to his chest, “Put this away and maybe I’ll tell you.”
The Elephant Man, it read, Steve found the ‘el’s’ on the shelf (where Robin could not reach.) and set in there. Shooting Robin a look, eyebrows twitched up, “Is she single?”
“Yes, Harrington.” She says and Steve's heart leaps in hope. “But, you have no chance.”
“What? Wha- why? Why not?” Steve stumbles over his words, trying to keep Robin's attention when she turns around to actually do her job.
“Because she’s cool.”
“I’m cool.”
Then, Robin laughs. A genuine laugh. As if what Steve had just said was the funniest joke to ever be thought of. “Stop laughing, I am!”
“King Steve, you are high school cool. She is real-life cool.” Robin says, and Steve should honestly be offended.
“That’s just rude.”
Robin shakes her head, donning a light-hearted smile, and goes to the back to bring out the new releases.
-
Steve had to stay late for his shift on Wednesday, someone had thrown up their lunch in the men’s restrooms and Robin had called nose goes with the job as an excuse for it being the men’s.
Steve had a permanent scrunched-up face, convinced the smell of vomit was lingering on his clothes. More than ready get the hell home and in a shower.
It’s only when he’s shrugged off his vest, put back the mop and bucket, holding back a gag from the lingering smell. When Steve hears that familiar voice, the one he shamefully hasn’t stopped thinking about. His full body stops, hearing you and Robin talking from the front of the store.
In the most cool, calm and so not overly eager fashion, Steve is at the front in only a few strides. Playing is so, so cool. Biting back a giddy smile when he sees your smile from your conversation with Robin.
Steve has noticed that you existed with a thin-lipped smile and overjoyed eyes, or you just really enjoyed talking to Robin. Either way, it charmed Steve and knocked him off his feet in a way he’s never experienced. It was borderline shocking, his pull towards you came from curiosity. You were a stranger to him but he needed more.
Steve crashed into the counter, almost pathetically bumping Robin’s hips away from you. So much for not being overly eager. But the smile on Steve’s face was infectious, unrelenting.
“Hey, need any help?” Steve says, as if you weren’t in full conversation with Robin already. Who in fact did work there.
You cover your mouth to giggle, and Steve is hypnotized instantly. Your smile reaches your eyes as they turn into crescents.
“She’s already helped, and you're off the clock. So scram!” Robin comments, looking between him and you.
“Are you sure she doesn’t need any extra assistance?” Steve says, it’s stupid and not even remotely smooth. Coming out more as an overbearing coworker than a flirt.
“I’m all taken care of, thank you—“ you say, peering at his nametag, “Steve?”
“Don’t wear it out.”
Steve can’t feel Robin's gaze on him, the second-hand embarrassment hitting her harder than Steve could comprehend. Who is currently immune to his own pathetic flirts, too busy amused by the giggle it pulls from you. If only you’d stop covering your face with your hand.
You bid Robin goodbye, excusing yourself for an appointment you were already late to. Steve was a gentleman, he wasn’t going to hold you with more definitely not over-eager conversing.
(If that’s what you wanna call it.)
Right before you leave, turning your back to press against the glass Family Video door. You brought your hands up to do the slightest finger wave at the two, a sly grin on your lip as you said, “Goodbye Buckley.” Then your voice almost drops an octave, dripping like honey, “bye Steven.”
Steve’s brain short-circuits for so many reasons. The proper name, the grin, the way you spoke like you had a hold of him. As if you knew you already had him wrapped around your finger. Steve's knees went weak.
“You’re drooling again, dingus.”
-
Approximately 2 hours into Steve’s Thursday night shift he had decided the first thing he was going to do after closing was to look up a good masseuse. Still, that didn’t stop him from his frantic checking of the door at every person who walked through it. Hoping to see you.
And with every nerd and old dude that walked in, his dreams got smaller.
The bells jingle. Steve tears his eyes away from the inventory list he was told to update, his hair wiping in his face as the speed in which he glances over it. A mother and father with a pair of toddler twins trailing in front as they race to the kids’ section.
“Holy shit, Harrington, you’re gonna give yourself whiplash. Expecting Jesus to walk through those doors.” Eddie teases, in his usual chair, feet propped up against the counter as he lazily watches another random movie showing.
Steve opens his mouth to excuse his behavior, but instead, Robin beats him to it. “Close enough. Steve has a new crush.”
Eddie shoots him a wide-eyed look, one that Steve doesn’t even want to know what torturous tease comes next.
“Barely. I don’t even know her name.”
Robin walks up to the two boys after restocking the foreign film section, “Well, you won’t figure out your true love's name tonight. So spare your neck pain”
Steve's eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“She comes in every Sunday and Wednesday, dingus. You’ll have to wait.” Robin tells him.
And suddenly Steve wants to pound his head on the desk until another concussion arises. Maybe he’d be close to brain-dead and wouldn’t even worry about finding love at that point. Because of course the universe would put the hottest girl in Hawkins and give her a movie schedule that completely avoids his work schedule.
“Those are my usual off days…” Steve whines, utterly hopelessly.
“Once again, tragic.” Eddie sighs.
Steve shoots a glare, and Eddie returns with a cheeky grin. God, Steve just wants to wipe that off his face.
Maybe it was fate, Steve thinks—hopeful as ever, that whatever caused you issues last Sunday that made you come in on a Monday. Or the vomit on Thursday. That maybe those issues were a sign from the universe to bring you in his direction. Just maybe…
Eddie groans, "Alright, Buckley. What’s her name?”
“Huh?”
“I’m tired of the hairringtons sighing and groaning from his pathetic loneliness,” Eddie says, pushing his wheeled chair over to the computer. “We are gonna get a profile on this girl so maybe he has some action in getting a date.”
Once those syllables of your name left Robin's mouth, Steve spoke them under his tongue, testing out the way it sounded when it left his. He sounded borderline whipped, gazing off in the distance whispering your name.
Eddie's finger made quick work of the customer files, finding your name. Steve was hovering over his shoulder in an instant.
A hum left Eddie’s mouth as he went through your rental history, it was extensive from what Steve would see. “Eraserhead, Possession, Carrie, Labryinth…”
“What? What does that mean?” Steve impatiently asked. Out of the three, Eddie was by far the most cultured when it came to movies. His ability to read people and recommend niche movies based on how a person dressed or walked was impressive, and it made up for his horrid work ethic.
Eddie was silent, studying the movie titles.
“Eddie.” Steve tries to get his attention again.
A dry laugh leaves him, “You’re hopeless, Harrington.”
Steve ignores the way Robin snickers from afar, “You can tell that based on a movie list?”
“She watches movies like Suspiria and Nosferatu, this girl is not your type and probably would eat you if you tried to turn up that king Steve charm.”
Defeat hit him like a freight train, his shoulder slumped. “Really?”
“I mean, if she’s as hot as you make her out to be I might even make a move with this movie list…” Eddie says, Going back to check your history. Steve throws another pencil at his back, and it falls to the ground going unnoticed.
The clock ticks above Steve, impossibly slow. He truly was hopeful.
Eddie makes an abrupt sound, a ha-zah even. Catching both Steve and Robin's attention. Steve awaits whatever information Eddie found as Robin leans over the other side of the counter, curious.
“Well, Harrington.” Eddie's smooth voice echoes through, mouse still clicking at the screen. “We may have hit the jackpot.
“Tell me.” Steve springs from his seat to check the screen. Eddie meets him halfway, rotating his chair to face him.
“Well, based on her past rentals of Grease, Valley Girl, and The Great Gatsby. Our girl is a romantic—“
“Don’t say our.”
“Already being possessive, wow,” Robin says.
Steve opens his mouth to bite back, but he’s interrupted.
“And our possible saving grace, drum roll please….” Eddie announced like a dramatic performance. Always over the top.
On cue, Robin rapidly drums her hands on the counter. An echo through the store, and despite Steve’s stolen attention he still spares a glance around the store in hopes no one was in earshot of the ruckus his coworkers were making.
“In the last 6 months, she had rented and returned Pretty in Pink 10 times. Which is…. Honestly, a little unhealthy but we all have our vices, who am I to judge?”
Steve tries to come up with an answer to his problem with this information, completely lost. Even more so when Eddie and Robin share a knowing look. “Oh, Steve Harrington, you are so in there.”
He smiles, hopeful, and grateful that the intensive negative teasing from his two friends had suddenly turned positive. That at least someone believed in him and his slowly dying charm. “That’s great! Uh, what does that mean?”
“Well, obviously a few points just got docked for never seeing Pretty in Pink, which is honestly criminal.” Eddie starts on his rant.
“Get to the point, Munson.” Steve snaps.
Suddenly, Robin is behind Steve, holding up a VHS she had quickly grabbed from a few shelves away. “Ta-da!” she announces, holding the tape next to his face.
Steve’s still sincerely lost, even more so when a further knowing look grows on Eddie as his eyes glance from Steve's face to the cover of the VHS.
“I’m lost, what is this?” Steve snatched the VHS from Robin's hands. Looking at the cover.
Robin pointed finger hovering on the man on the far right of the cover, “That is Andrew McCarthy, and the majority of the reason people watch that movie is for him—to my disagreement—yet, he has a specific appeal.”
Eddie pushes himself closer to Steve, the wheels rolling over the floor's carpet, “the same appeal our dear Steve The Hair Harrington shares.”
Slowly the cogs in Steve's head turn and grind against each other, connecting the dots that his coworkers were laying out for him. “So you are saying… I’m in?”
“We are saying, you have a chance.”
-
It was Sunday.
Approximately 10 minutes before getting off last night, Steve had begged Keith to let him work today. Offered to cover his shift or whatever part-time teenager he had hired since Robin was not budging on getting the day off. Insistent on seeing what trick Steve Harrington pulls to try and knock your panties off, or just ask you out. Depending on how well this goes.
Finally, Keith let up, agreeing and grateful in the end since a new shitty space adventure movie shipment had come in that day and he’d been wanting to sit down and watch that.
So Steve woke up that morning, put on his best pair of pants, and cleaned up his old and worn pair of Nikes. Spent 20 more minutes on his hair routine. Showed up maybe an hour early to work and waited, that familiar strain in his neck already arising.
Steve had talked to Eddie, and he never thought he would say this, about advice. You obviously liked movies and had a similar taste to his (and thank god Eddie was on a masc kick recently or Steve would have lost you to the metal head before he could even think of a pick up line.) So Steve sat and listened to Eddie go through the options to recommend to you, since Robin had informed him that Sunday was your movie rental day.
So Steve studied over the titles, the summaries, and any fun facts we had to convince you to just listen to him. Kept them top of mind while pacing around the store like a stir crazy maniac.
“Hey dingus, are ya trying to make a track in the carpet?” Robin asked, watching Steve walk between the 4-foot radius he had mesmerized. “I think if she walks into you doing that, she is more likely to run for the hills than fall head over heels.”
Steve flipped Robin the bird, huffing and puffing like a dramatic child. Finding his place back behind the counter, Steve went to fix his hair for the 10th time.
“You got it bad, Harrington.” Robin shakes her head in pity. “If you’re gonna waste energy pacing around, can you at least pace the entire store and maybe put some tapes back?”
Steve almost whined, to protest something about greeting customers. But then Robin shoved a box of put-backs in his face and he knew he wasn’t winning. Reluctantly clutching the cardboard in his hands, a pathetic frown on his face, he started to drag his feet around the aisles of the store.
Somewhere between the G’s and I’s of the action/adventure section, Steve’s dragging feet slowed even more, his fingers dragged on the spines of the VHSs. He thought of you, of your pretty smile and defining confidence. What you did with your day before and after visiting the store, how you knew Robin, if you went to Hawkins, and how he could have missed you?
It was a mystery Steve was determined to figure out. Like some sort of prayer, he heard the shuffle of feet on the carpet next to him. It was you, perusing the aisles with a slight pout to your lip. Steve must have missed the sound of the doorbell.
Your neck slowly twitched in his direction, shamefully Steve’s gaze flinched away, just in case that drool problem kicked in like Robin keeps commenting on. Not too eager. Right, right. Stew kept his eyes upwards.
“Steve?” Your voice called out, and he was a second too long to turn to you before you continued with an edge of humor, “Is that exit sign super interesting?”
God, that smile. Steve could barely breathe. To hell with trying to actually converse.
“What, um no! Well, uh, I mean the fluorescents... Super interesting…” Steve choked out, he might as well have had his foot in his mouth as well.
“Oh, I'm sure.” You teased, “totally not looking for the closest exit route from me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the words left his mouth before he could think, instantly looking to see if it landed, or if you thought he was creepy—running for the hills, all that.
Instead, Steve was gifted with a shy smile, he focused on the way the edges of your lips curved up, the way they met your eyes, and practically sparkled. Your eye faltered from his for a moment, just to look back at him once again—a certain curiosity, amusement, maybe adoration if Steve would allow himself to think such things—had crept up your gaze towards him.
You bit your lip, “You’re cute, Steve Harrington?”
He always passed out, “yeah?”
“Very,” you nodded. “But can Cute find me a good movie to watch this week?”
Steve's brain scrambled, too giddy with a smile to think, “of course.”
He looked back at what letter he was on, what genre. Trying to rack his brain on the inventory, new releases. Fuck, Eddie gave him options for if this came up, Steve had practically studied for this moment.
“Follow me?” He offers you.
You just nod, and he sets off. You close behind him, catching glances at his perfectly curled brown hair, which looked soft, you thought.
(Off to the side, Robin almost broke her neck, back, and the chair leaning backwards to watch you trail behind Steve with stairs in your eyes. A knowing, and proud grin on her face.)
Steve found the ‘W’s and plucked a movie from the shelf, placing it in your hands. His finger lingered on your palms for a moment, warm and soft. The feeling shot up his arm and buzzed in his chest.
You scanned the front, flipping it over to inspect what Steve recommended. “The Witches Of Eastwick… I like Cher… Susan Sarandon… hmm.” You hummed, before clicking your mouth to look back at him. “Maybe pretty privilege didn’t get you the job.”
You winked at him, and Steve’s nervous laughter that followed was uncontrollable. You had him down bad, absolutely whipped.
Steve remembered something suddenly, taking a few steps to grab a tape he had set aside for you. Just in case. “Oh, and this one.”
“The Princess Bride?” You read, scanning over the cover. “Do you take me for a romcom girl, Steve Harrington?”
“Just a feeling.” He breathed.
You looked at the two choices in hand, a smile creeping on your lips. You looked satisfied. “I’ll take both, thank you.”
“I’ll check you out then.” Steve started towards the register.
“Getting rid of me already?”
Steve almost fell face-first with the way he halted, stumbling on his feet to come back to you, and as far as he could from the register. “Wha— no, never—“
“I’m kidding, Steve.” You laughed, “I’m ready.”
“Right. Yes.”
Steve slipped behind the counter as you rounded the corner to the front of the register. Steve was beaming with success, but not enough to practically shove Robin out of the way.
“Move. I gotta check out this very beautiful customer I oh-so graciously helped out.” Steve said, more bark than he intended. Not missing the way your hand covered up the heat rising to your face.
“Whoa!” Robin held her hands up in surrender, shuffling out of the way, “Well, excuse me, dingus.”
“Dingus?” You asked.
“Let’s not.” Steve smiled at you.
“Aye, aye.” You saluted, setting the tapes on the counter. Then quietly under your breath, “dingus.”
Steve pretended not to hear you while biting back a grin, despite the annoyance of that stupid nickname he was just overjoyed to pass the customer service talk with you.
You watched him intently as he bagged up your movies and handed them to you, his finger brushing against yours again and that familiar buzz of warmth found his chest.
You got him a confused look, eyebrows furrowed, “What’s the charge?”
“No charge.” Steve beamed at you. “It's on the house, employee discount.”
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled, a shot straight to Steve's heart. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, in that case.” You reach over behind the register to grab a notepad, plucking a pen while you're at it. “Since you so graciously paid for me,” you scribbled down those ten glorious numbers, Steve's eyes practically sparkled. Sliding it across the counter and in front of him. “Give me a call if you're free and you can watch them with me.”
Steve takes it from your hands, holding it as if it were glass. Rereading the numbers a few times in his head, to not forget, just in case. Because god forbid he lose this now.
“If you want.” You add, a little shy now.
Steve perks up, “I will— I mean, of course, of course I’d want to.”
“Great.” You nod, “See you soon, hopefully.”
“Of course,” Steve repeats himself, overly giddy, nodding like his life depends on it.
You waved that flirtatious finger wave, a sweet smile covered your face and then your back turned and you were gone. Steve's eyes lingered on you from behind the glass window, watching you walk off and into your car. In a not-so-creepy way, hopefully.
Steve's heart beams with hope. Not even believing himself to find a girl he was actually interested in. It sounded hollow and shitty, but it was true. After Nancy, his decline in social status and charm, this stupid competition to pick up a girl at work had started just offhand. A silly joke, a hollow thing to keep him distracted.
But Jesus Christ, Steve Harrington had never been more excited to see a girl before in his life.
Steve's hand slammed down on the counter in victory, a loud bang echoing through a hopefully empty store. Steve narrowed a pointed finger at Robin, “Put a fucking mark under “you rule” and then throw that goddamn whiteboard away, Buckley.”