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.*･｡. A DEAL WITH GOD! .*･｡.
————TRICK OR TREAT, FREAK
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008.
DANCING IN HELL.
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"Okay, now this is rock."

"This is not rock," Ashley rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the braids over her head. She peered at Cindy and Linda through the reflection in the vanity mirror, scoffing. "It's Halloween and you're dressed up as Freddie Krueger, Cind."

"I know rock," Cindy corrected, pulling the mask off her face. She grinned devilishly, "This is definitely rock."

   While Ashley still didn't think it was particularly rock (although what did rock even mean?), Cindy did look pretty good — albeit in a gruesome, scary, murderer way. Ashley hadn't been too shocked when her friend had declared she was going to be Freddy and she wouldn't go to the party if she had to be one of Charlie's Angels. As a result, the original matching costumes that Linda pitched to them got the kick and instead, the trio decided they would be fine going in different outfits. It took a bit of convincing but long as they still looked cute, Linda wasn't totally against it. She had definitely been fonder of that idea when Ashley told her she could pick a costume out for her, since she didn't really care who she went as. It was also not the biggest priority on Cindy's mind anymore, and more of an easy and quick distraction.

"Well, I know one thing for sure," Linda said. She walked over to Ashley's side and inspected herself in the mirror, tilting the big hat seated on her voluminous curls. They waited, raising brows at the girl, wanting to see what Linda knew for sure and what it had to do with the current conversation.

   Sometimes Linda could get very sidetracked.

   She adjusted her beige waistcoat and hummed; "Indiana Jones definitely isn't rock," she turned to see the back, "But my ass does look great in these shorts." Her thin eyebrow raised, "Is that rock?"

   The two girls snorted.

"Very rock," Cindy confirmed. "But not as rock as when Freddy kills Leia Organa."

    "Hey!"

   Ashley span away from the mirror with a pout.

    "Why do you have to kill me?" She asked, crossing her arms as she glanced down at her outfit. Her father wasn't home when she had picked it up, thankfully, so it wasn't ironed— luckily the crease in her green poncho wasn't too visible since Cindy held the steam of a hot kettle under it for a while, something she had done many times, due to her lack of an iron. Other than that, Ashley thought her costume looked pretty good: simple grey pants and long black boots, as well as a fake blaster that Dustin had left at her house on one of the last occasions she'd babysat him. "Isn't it more realistic if Freddy kills Indiana Jones?"

"Why?"

"Leia's in space!"

    "Indiana Jones has a whip," Linda countered her point.

    "Leia has a gun-thingy," she said.

    "That gun-thingy is a blaster," Cindy told her, "And that's why it definitely has to be you."

    "Dammit," Ashley murmured, shoving the blaster in her back pocket. She crossed her arms and walked away from the vanity, a falter in her step when Cindy playfully waved the knived fingers in her face. "Not funny, Cind."

    "Hilarious, actually." She smirked at her, to which Ashley gave her a nudge. Taking it in her stride, Cindy grinned; "Right! What time's this party starting?" She toyed with the fake knives in her hands, "I wanna know if I have time to scare the shit out of some trick-or-treaters first."

"Tina doesn't live far," though the other girls already knew as much from the last party of Tina's they had gone to, Linda gave them a quick run down anyway. They didn't particularly mind it, either. Linda and Tina lived in the same neighbourhood, not too far from each other by car and only marginally further on foot. It made parties easy because no one had to drive and they could all just spend the night at the Pendle home, afterwards. Linda pulled a face of thought, "We're already a little late, but nobody wants to show up at a party early — so I say we scare the little losers on the way over."

"Fuck, yes!"

As Cindy bounded for the doorway with Linda quick to follow, Ashley let out a tired sigh. She was still exhausted from a lack of sleep the night before, and she didn't really want to hear screams from children all that much.

"Just don't make them piss their pants, okay?" She said, taking one last look in the vanity mirror and smoothing her braid down. Cindy groaned, loudly.

"But that's the best part!"

With an eye roll, Ashley went after her two friends as they both travelled downstairs and out the door, although Linda had briefly stopped them so her mother could take a picture on her Polaroid; which, admittedly, was very cute. Even with the mish-mash of the costumes they wore. The trio then ventured through the odd little town of Hawkins and amongst the streets, watching the variety of trick-or-treaters run around with bags of candy, knocking on door to door.

"It's scary how big Halloween is, over here."

"Tell me about it," Ashley muttered in response to Cindy, eyes scanning every child's face in hopes of avoiding four very familiar Ghostbusters.

Cindy frowned, "I just did."

Ashely huffed.

"Just go scare some kids, Freddy."

And scare some kids, Cindy went and did.

She scared a lot, actually; running up behind, jumping out from bushes, waving her knife fingers in their faces. Cindy and Linda's entire walk to Tina's house was filled with screams and cackles. In all honesty, it was kinda amusing. A little mean, but amusing. Cindy certainly enjoyed it anyway, if the loud and maniacal laughter was anything for them to go on. Linda even joined in at some point, in spite of Indiana Jones not being particularly terrifying. Apparently the whip was good enough.

Ashley was fine walking on her own, avoiding kids left right and centre and hoping she didn't bump into anyone she didn't want to see. Halloween was already scary enough — Ashley didn't need to face her problems via a young boy dressed in a boiler suit. And, so far? So good. She hadn't seen him any—

"RAGH!"

Ashley screamed.

She jumped back as a small figure leapt from behind a wall, an eerily similar fake knife in hand.

Ashley stumbled, "Holy shit! What the fu—"

Loud, muffled laughter came from behind the mask, and for as brief as a moment, Ashley had thought that her dear friend Cindy James had shrunk a foot.

But, when the ugly Michael Myers mask was pulled off, Ashley wasn't faced with a nose ring, conniving smirk, and hair of bleach blonde and dusted pink. Rather, she was faced with sunny freckles and sneaky blue eyes, a head of blazing fire.

"Someone's jumpy," Max Mayfield smirked, raising her brows as her chuckles died down. "And who knew you could swear like a sailor, ponytail?"

Ashley's lips tugged down, her heart still racing.

She blinked.

"What the hell, Maxine?!"

"What?" Max shrugged, cocking her hip. "It's Halloween."

"You scared the life out of me," Ashley argued.

A scoff, "Obviously."

Max turned on her heel and started to walk away, her small legs making surprisingly large strides.

Without hesitation, Ashley quickly scurried after her. It was still in the direction of Tina's house so she wasn't going off course. In truth, she would probably get there before Linda and Cindy; who, when she threw a glance over her shoulder, were happily scaring a tooth-fairy, a pirate, and a clown.

For a short while, Ashley had completely forgotten that she was meant to be Max's buddy. Their first meeting hadn't gone so well, a gross understatement if anything, and Ashley had been too jittery the last day to really remember anything important. Still, she felt bad. It was apparent that the two girls hadn't seen eye to eye, and Max would rather roll herself under a moving vehicle than be stuck with one of the preppy high schoolers as a buddy, but Ashley still had a duty to her. She wanted to give it a shot.

If Max let her.

Maybe she had her own problems going in right now, but Max clearly had some too.

Plus, Ashley wanted that recommendation letter.

"Stop stalking me."

"I'm not stalking you," Ashley said.

"You're following me," Max reasoned, albeit unreasonably. As she spoke, she shrugged. "Now go away, okay? I got places to be."

"You're going trick-or-treating?" Ashley observed the half-filled Jack o'lantern of candy in the her hand. She arched a curious brow at her and asked the preteen, "Are you meeting somebody? To go trick-or-treating?"

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yes."

Max scowled.

"You're not exactly a ray of sunshine," Ashley reminded.

"I resent that," as she forced a sarcastic smile, Max sighed out an irritated breath. "They're just some losers who were following me around school and asked me to join them."

"Did one of them have curly hair?"

"Yeah," Max's brows knotted, "How did you—?"

"My neighbour," Ashley brushed it off. She hoped Max wasn't meeting them anywhere close to Tina's house. Trying to ignore it as a possibility, the Miller girl notched her smile an inch wider. As her eyes really took in Max's costume, she hummed; "Well, you're the second scariest killer I've seen all night."

"Only second?"

"My friend Cindy," she responded, "She's kinda unhinged, like, all the time."

"Right..." as the younger girl processed the information she'd been given, her lips pulled together. Max gave Ashley a side look, not wanting to be too obvious in inspecting the costume that she'd chosen to wear for Halloween costume. When she realised who it was Ashley had gone as, Max was tempted to bark a loud laugh at her. "Of course you're a princess."

Ashley frowned, "Linda said she's a badass."

"She is," Max said. "You're not."

"Hey!"

"Maybe I should start calling you braids, ponytail?" Max asked with feigned interest, her lips curling in a sly grin. Before Ashley's mind caught up with the words, the younger of the two tugged at her mask to cover her face. She waved her fake machete and with a twirl on her sneakers, she marched off into the night around the same time that Ashley spotted Tina's house. Max didn't look back at her as she called, "Later, princess ponytail!"

   Ashley groaned.

    "What's wrong with my ponytail?!"

Max laughed.

————

"Nice costume," Carol sneered.

The trio had hardly made it through the door of Tina's house before the redhead had eyed Cindy up, stare narrowed and tone mocking. Ashley and Linda exchanged glances as Cindy grinned widely, not even remotely fazed by the passive aggressive attitude exhibited by the other girl.

"Thanks," Cindy called over the loud music and drunken talk, placing a hand over her heart. "That means a lot!"

Carol frowned.

"It does?"

"Obviously," Cindy said with a completely straight face and an unmatched level of conviction. Carol just stared in confusion. She asked her, "Can't you tell? I'm you."

Linda snorted, loudly.

Covering her mouth, Ashley pressed her lips together and tried to duck her head. While it was a super good burn, Ashley knew it would only cause big issues if she let herself laugh as much as she wanted to. So, instead, Ashley kept her mouth shut as Carol's face flushed crimson. She scoffed and stormed away, unable to find an insult that could compare, and Cindy watched her go with one of her middle fingers in the air. When she was lost in the crowd of a dozen drunk teenagers, Linda let out a hooting laugh and clapped her hands together.

"You got her good!" She celebrated.

"Yeah, well." Cindy shrugged, turning to peer at Ashley. "You know what? Never mind— Leia can live another day," she said as she toyed with her knife fingers, "Freddy only wants to kill one girl, tonight."

    "Does it rhyme with barrel?"

"Ding, ding, ding!"

"Well play nice, Freddy." Ashley huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. "I don't want my dad arresting you for murder,"

"No promises."

Linda linked Cindy's arm, "Promise."

"Ugh," the girl groaned, "The angel, venturer on my shoulder. How could I ever argue?" As they headed over to the kitchen for some drinks, Cindy peered around. Most people waved at Ashley and Linda, to which they politely waved back, but Cindy was less of a hit amongst Hawkins High — which, never bothered her. Her priorities didn't include being popular. Or liked, for that matter. It meant nothing to her. The people didn't either. Other than Linda and Ashley, nobody in Hawkins mattered to Cindy. Well, expect for one person...

    "Fucking hell!" She lightly slapped Linda on the arm as the girl sipped some punch. Cindy ignored how she nearly spilt it, "As if Nancy Wheeler is matching with Steve fucking Harrington! You're kidding!"

"Hey!" Linda whined.

"Look!"

"I'm looking!" She assured, "Yeah— they're matching," Linda said, "They're dating."

"Don't remind me," Cindy muttered bitterly, "Risky Business? I could've done that with her," she claimed. "I'm hot enough to be the Joel to her Lana. Hotter than Harrington anyways. Someone find me some fucking sunglasses!"

"No," Ashley said. "You're only saying that because you've had this crush on her since you arrived, but—"

"No, I'm saying that because there's no doubt in my mind that she likes girls!"

"How do you know?"

"Because I like girls." Cindy deadpanned, voice low. It was too loud for anybody to really hear her speaking, but she still held her cup in front of her lips to hide their conversation. "That makes me perfectly fucking qualified to execute the idea that Nancy Wheeler might like boobies." With that, she arched both her brows at them, "Any objections?"

Exchanging mutual glances, unsure of whether they were more amused by her words or surprised by the fact she was so certain in the idea of Nancy Wheeler liking girls too, Linda and Ashley were inclined to shake their heads. Cindy took a satisfied sip of her cup, but quickly screwed up her face and complained about American's not drinking enough alcohol. She then proceeded to scurry off for some vodka she knew she would find somewhere, which left Ashley's side flagged with only Linda; the two girls snickered at her actions.

They drew in closer to the main party area.

    "Do you think Eddie's here, yet?"

    "Hm?"

    "Eddie," Linda repeated, leaning in close so Ashley could hear her over the music. She failed to notice her face swiftly pale. "Do you think he's here, yet?"

   Ashley blinked at her, briefly feeling her skin chill as she found herself recalling the night before, then forced herself to snap out of it. She cleared her throat and took a long sip of her drink, her nose wrinkling at the bitter taste. "Um, maybe?"

    "I can't wait to see who he's dressed as," she confessed, smugly smiling at the thought. "Whoever it is, I'm sure Indiana won't be able to keep her hands off him."

    "Lind!"

    "What?" She giggled airily. Her feelings for Eddie Munson had never been put into words. At least, not yet. They had started this summer fling while Ashley was at camp and Cindy had flown home to see her friends in England, whatever this fling even was. They'd apparently met at a party and started talking, which soon led to a lot less talking by the end of the night — if you understood. Then, as a result, it ended up in a whole bunch of not talking, and they still didn't do much talking, even after summer had ended. It was as if they gravitated towards each other like magnets.

   Linda had failed to give it a label, but Ashley was certain that she liked him. Maybe that was because they hadn't figured it out, or maybe because that was something they felt they didn't need to. Regardless, Linda was happy enough with how they were. She hunted him down at every party. "He's hot, Ash!"

   Ashley took another long gulp.

    "I'm gonna go find him," Linda said, "Are you alright if I go? I'm not gonna be long—"

    "Go," Ashley assured, she didn't want to hear about what they would both be doing. "I need a refill," she lifted her cup for demonstration, which seemed to surprise Linda. Ashley wasn't much of a drinker at parties. "Cindy'll be back soon, anyway." When Linda gave the girl a skeptical glance, recalling how off she had been that day, all of Ashley's effort went into sending her a dazzling — fake — grin of reassurance, "Seriously, go."

   Linda beamed.

   Ashley waved as she ventured into the mass of dancing teens, a skip in her step as she searched every guy with brown curls. Linda had always been so upbeat, so positive, and for a second, Ashley'd envied her.

   Everything just seemed so fine for Linda.

   Sighing through her nostrils, disliking herself for feeling bitter, Ashley gripped the cup in her hands and made for the kitchen. It wasn't too far so, really, it shouldn't have taken her long. And yet, she didn't get there as quickly as she should have. Because instead, her path was intercepted by a leather jacket, rock hard abs, and a blonde, curled mullet.

    "Ponytail."

   Great.

   Ashley glanced up at the boy who had nearly run her over just two days prior, finding him peering down at her with blown eyes and a smirk. He was half-drenched in sweat, half in beer, and he looked like an animal ready to pounce on his prey; "I don't think we've officially met. Billy Hargrove."

    "Ashley," she said, curtly.

    "Not as cute as ponytail," he winked.

Seriously?

   Ashley blinked, "You nearly hit me with your car."

   He chuckled through his nose and shrugged, "And I thought it would make you talk to me sooner."

   Frowning, Ashley brushed past him and continued her way for the kitchen, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the teens made some sort of partition for him, allowing him to pass them by as if a god amongst men, and he managed to tail her all the way back to the punch. A few kids from school watched them with interest; apparently the head cheerleader being accompanied by their new bad boy was worthy of beady eyes. Ashley dreaded the idea of any rumours going around.

    "So— a cheerleader, huh?" Billy said, leaning his body against the counter while she filled her cup. He smiled wolfishly, "Gonna give me a twirl?"

    "No."

    "Why not?" He fake pouted.

    "Because—" she sucked in a breath, "Because you nearly killed me with your stupid car!"

    "That's it?"

    "And we're at a Halloween party!" Ashley went on, ranting like she had done with his little sister the day prior. "And you stink like beer, and everybody's staring at us, and—" she took a sip from her punch, "—and I don't just break into dance!"

   Billy smirked.

    "You're cute when you ramble."

   Ashley's cheeks warmed in embarrassment, unsure of what she should say to that. Maybe this new guy was attractive, and maybe he could be charming, and maybe the way he peered at her with a shiny blue interest made her feel like every other girl he looked at, but this new Billy Hargrove kid wasn't someone she wished to know very well. Definitely not in the way he wanted to know her. He had an alluring attraction to him sure, but Ashley felt uncomfortable in his gaze. Like she was a piece of meat, or something. She knew he wanted the head cheerleader, but she wasn't that kinda girl. There nothing else really to it.

    "Hargrove!"

   They both turned to find Tommy H across the room, waving a hand for him to join their group — Steve Harrington's old group.

One king falls, another rises.

    "Greatness calls," Billy drawled cockily, stretching his arms up as he stood, in turn flexing those abs. Ashley promptly redirected her eyes elsewhere. "Catch ya, ponytail."

   With a final wink, Billy stuck a cigarette between his lips, brow quirking at her in hopes of agreement. Ashley didn't speak but it wasn't really needed. He seemed pretty set on seeing her at some point later, judging by the way his eyes wandered her body, and a large part of her hoped he wouldn't.

As he left, Ashley let out a breath she didn't know she had even been holding. She brought her cup to her lips and chugged all the punch in seconds, wiping the dribbles of crimson from the corner of her lips before they could stain her costume. It was unlikely the girl would wear the green poncho again, but she still had minimal intention to ruin it.

After another re-fill, Ashley leant her arms against the counter and watched the party go as she nursed her drink. She had failed to spot Cindy and Linda in the crowd, though she did spot Robin Buckley dressed up as Kevin Bacon's character in Footloose, and in all, she debated whether she really wanted to be there. Ashley had fun at parties usually, but something just didn't feel right. Perhaps it was the amount of alcohol she had already drank or maybe the lack of sleep, or perhaps even the tug she felt in her chest— like a pull, some sort of force that wanted her to be somewhere else. An easy way of ignoring it proved to be drinking more, and so Ashley drank on.

"Princess Leia?"

Ashley tilted her head, Steve.

    "The film with the teddy bears, right?"

   Teddy bears?

   Had Dustin ever mentioned teddy bears in Star Wars?

   As she dwelled on it briefly, trying to make sense of his words when she had never even seen the movie, Ashley observed Steve.

   He was peering down at her with a smile, hands on his hips, a fluffier hair-do than usual and black shades over his eyes, dressed in black from head to toe.

Risky Business, right.

"Joel..." she paused, "Whatever his name is."

"Goodsen," Steve said, looking a bit deflated. "What? Haven't you seen Risky Business?"

She bit her lower lip, "No?"

"You're kidding!" Steve gawked. He immediately dropped one arm to rest against the counter, relaxing his body in level with her own. He did it differently to Billy Hargrove. Steve looked less... it was less promiscuous. As if he was only doing it to converse with the girl, not flaunt his good looks and charm. "With Tom Cruise?" As he watched her nod in recognition, of course she knew who Tom Cruise was, Steve rifled his hand through his hair. "Ya know— Carol told me I looked like him, once," he lifted his shades to present his face, tilting it left, "See it?"

"I dunno..."

"C'mon!" He urged and Ashley wondered how he was so very upbeat without any alcohol in his system. When she gave no real response, Steve used his fingers to bounce the glasses around; her brows arched. "See it, now?"

Ashley shook her head, "Not really."

"Take those old records off the shelf," he sang under his breath, eyes closing dramatically. Ashley watched him, unsure of what to do in wake of his sudden burst into song, and Steve used her surprise to swipe the blaster from her pocket. Raising it to his lips, he grinned as he carried on; "I sit and listen to them by myself."

Ashley's lips curled into a smile.

She immediately pressed them back together and sipped at her punch, but Steve had already spotted it. His cheeks went pink, an awkwardness seeping back into his veins, and he rubbed the nape of his neck bashfully.

"So," he breathed out and placed her blaster on the counter, a further few counts of the song tapping in his fingers. "Why aren't you with James and Pendle?" Steve asked her; "Not having fun?"

"I guess not," she said.

"Honestly? Me either," Steve admitted.

Curiosity sparking in her eyes, Ashley turned back to him. Her gaze observed him.

He was staring out at the party in the way she had been before his arrival, eyes over scanning the crowd. Ashley had never taken the time to look at Steve Harrington before — as in, really look at him. Sure, she had seen him a dozen times over the years, but she had never looked at him. Properly. Intently. With burning gaze. He was strong jawed, angle nosed and thick browed, with little moles scattering his skin much like disjointed constellations on a blanket of sand. But beneath aesthetic level, Steve Harrington was... well, he wasn't enjoying himself. She could see it in the creases forming at the corner of his eyes and the faint crevice left from frown lines either side of his lips. It suddenly occurred to Ashley that she was ungrateful of him checking in on her at school, when he had been in FAIR MART at three in the morning too. Her mouth tugged an earnest frown.

"I'm—" she paused, unsure of what she was going to blurt out if she opened her mouth again. Steve had already began to listen to her, however. Ashley sighed, "I'm sorry. You were really kind to me last night, and then you came to check up on me earlier and I totally blew you off."

   He frowned, "Hey, it's—"

    "It's not!"

    "It is—"

    "I mean — I don't know what's wrong with me!" I keep waking up in Will Byers' head. "I was rude and you were only trying to be nice," she shook her head, the alcohol making her loose-lipped. "Maybe I really am going insane..." Ashley wasn't sure if he heard her but she continued, "It's really not like me and I really don't want you to think I'm some sort of bitch, like— like— like Carol!" When she'd realised her words, Ashley gawped. "I— tell me I didn't say that?!"

   His darks eyes glittered with stars of amusement.

    "I could lie?"

   Ashley pouted, "I'm the worst."

    "You're not the worst," Steve assured her.

    "I've just, I've got so much on my mind..." she rubbed a hand over her face, "And— and I can't tell anybody about it, because I just know they wouldn't understand."

    "I know that feeling."

   She peaked through her fingers.

    "You do?"

    "Yeah," Steve nodded.

   For some reason, her shoulders felt lighter. He got it.

    "I—" Ashley's cheeks warmed, dancing with a pink hue, "I'm sorry for rambling,"

    "It's okay," Steve told her, teeth framed by a perfect smile. He tilted his head to the side, feeling less awkward around her. They had never spoken like this before; given they rarely spoke at all. A lot of their conversations were about pep rallies and scoreboards. The last three times were different.

   After a moment of silence, Ashley cleared her throat and filled her cup a fourth time. "Why aren't you out there?" She signalled to the teenagers, "You know— dancing,"

    "Nance is too wasted to dance anymore," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I think... she doesn't want me coddling her," he decided, which was true.

   Ashley nodded.

    "But—" Steve perked himself up, pointing a finger in the air when a certain song started to play. "This is a fucking great song."

   Listening closely, Ashley recognised it as Dancing in Heaven. She smiled small, agreeing with him — it was a good song, one she'd danced to a dozen times with Linda and Cindy as they drove the streets of Hawkins.

   Steve started to bob his head, mouthing the words and shaking out his hair. Eyes wide but still amused, Ashley sipped at her drink and tried to conceal her gradually growing grin.

    "Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow," Steve sang, gesturing for Ashley's accompaniment. When she shook her head, he scoffed; "C'mon! Quick, quick, slow," he began to wiggle his shoulders, pretending to play some sort of guitar/keyboard hybrid. "Dancing in heaven, never thought I'd ever get my feet this far, Orbital Be-bop!" He slipped his black shades back over his eyes and continued, "C'mon, Miller! Orbital Be-bop! Sing it!"

   Ashley laughed, unable to stop herself.

   It was nice to laugh.

————

The laughter didn't last long.

Ashley hummed the tune to Dancing in Heaven under her breath as she washed her hands, using the water to smooth out the slight frizz to her hair. She glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, a moment spent adjusting the gloss on her lips though it was barely there; instead, replaced by red stains from the punch. Still, Ashley decided it was decent enough and opted to head back downstairs; she hadn't seen Linda and Cindy in a while, it wouldn't hurt to go check on them.

With a final check of her outfit, albeit it through a hazy vision, Ashley nodded to herself.

It'll do.

She sucked in a breath and turned on her heel, ready to return to the endless swarm of drunk teenagers until it was time to leave, but before she could even make it do the door, Ashley went flying.

Her boot slipped on a streak of water and she hit the ground, a bump to the head forcing her eyes shut. She grimaced at the pain and raised a hand to her jarred neck, hoping to soothe the freshly tender area, but her body halted when her fingertips traced bumps across the skin. Ashley's spine tingled and her blood froze, cooling her veins like blooming pools of ice.

"Ashley."

Ashley's eyes snapped open.

She gazed up at the ceiling and blinked away the stars lingering in her line of sight.

   The stars didn't go away.

   If anything, the dark sky seemed to broaden across the horizon in a veil of depth and decay; specs of dust and shards of ash soon tickling her cheeks as they rained down on her.

   Ashley Miller wasn't in Tina's bathroom, anymore.

    "Ashley."

   Pulling herself to a sit, Ashley went to wipe her face, but found herself focusing on her hands. She flipped them over, rubbing the tips of her fingers on her small palms. These weren't her hands. They reached up to her head, trembling fingers hoping to skim over the thick braid she had tightened across the crown of her head, but in its wake was the familiar brown strands tickling her forehead. This wasn't her hair. Her eyes slowly glanced at her clothes, only to find a beige boiler suit and a camera at her side. That wasn't her poncho nor her boots. None of it was right. As was this reoccurring pattern, she found the difference becoming more distinctive with every time in Will Byers' head; she was too slight and too short and she couldn't rid the goosebump on her neck.

He was always in the same place, too; Hawkins, but not Hawkins at the same time. A tainted version of their town with demon skies and swirling storms.

"Ashley."

Her limbs shook as she got to a stand.

Eyes hesitantly surveying the scene around her, the flickering of street bulbs causing electric shadows to cast across her cheeks, her heart raced in her chest; Loch Nora. Will was in Loch Nora, and he wore his Halloween costume — this was happening while he was meant to be having fun.

   DING.

   She jumped.

   Her knees knocked together as she tried to take a step back, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea if this fear was all belonging to her or to Will — perhaps it was both; a twisted helix of intertwined trepidation.

   DONG.

   Another jolt of fright. Ashley's stomach churned.

   DING.

   The weather around her seemed to pick up, brewing a storm of angered air. Every gust of breeze was like a harsh slap to her face.

   DONG.

   Far up ahead of her, highlighted by the runway of fiery lights, a plume of smoke migrated across the sky, filling the air with a dark cloud of threat and anguish. Then that plume of smoke grew and materialised; turning anthropomorphic with large tentacles; limbs of spiders; spear-shaped head.

   DING.

   Thunder cracked.

   DONG.

   The figure crawled towards her and, just as Ashley's body had turned to run, she felt her head spin.

    "Hello?"

   Her stomach summersaulted.

    "HELLO?!"

   Instead of a ring of a bell, Ashley's ears thrummed with bangs of a fist against the door.

    "I need to use the bathroom!" A drunk voice yelled, slamming their hands on the wood once more. They sounded familiar, even through the high pitched shriek resonating in Ashley's mind. "I'm serious!" They hiccuped, "Let me in!" Another thump, "Wait, did you drown or something?!"

   Ashley blinked slowly, feeling releases of pressure now that both eyes were no longer spiralling in the back of her head. She stared at the ceiling above her and cringed at the bright bathroom lights, though her jittery limbs relaxed an inch at the realisation — she'd fallen back into reality, finally. She was no longer in Will's mind. In light of the sudden change, Ashley's eyes burned. She didn't want to do this, anymore. Biting her lower lip so harshly she tasted blood, she slowly sat up and pulled her knees flat against her chest. But when her eyes squeezed shut and she only saw that same silhouette, with smoke drawn tentacles creeping towards her, they rapidly snapped open again.

    "Hello? Did you drown? Or—"

    "Nance! Nance— no one drowned, Jesus."

   Steve.

    "They won't open!" Nancy defended, though she sounded too consumed in alcohol to really process her own words. "Maybe—"

    "One— one minute!" Ashley called out, voice wavering. With a sharp intake of breath, the girl stumbled to her legs and swiped at the pooling blood beneath her nose. Scarlet seeped into the green of her poncho, but she paid no mind. The blatant disregard made certain that it could never be worn again, and yet, Ashley couldn't find it within her self to care. Not right now. Her mind was mirky; it felt too heavy with weighted thought, applying strain to both the shoulders that carried it.

   Ashley didn't even analyse herself in the mirror as she fumbled with the lock. Rather, the girl flung the door open and almost fell into Steve and Nancy as she rushed out.

    "Miller?"

    "Sorry," she uttered, hastily.

   Nancy didn't seem to notice the state Ashley was in, too busy in one herself. She drunkenly pushed her way into the room and was quick to turn on the tap.

    "Hey," Steve's voice brought Ashley's head up, watching as his face contorted in concern. "What happened?" His dark eyes were warm as they grazed over her face, soon stopping at the smearing blood across her top lip.

    "Nothing," she rubbed at the area again. Steve parted his lips to speak, but Ashley knew she had to get out of there. There was no way of her possibly explaining this and, being brutally honest, she really didn't want to. "I— I've gotta go," her words were bumbles of sounds and syllables. They all rushed out of her mouth like she had never used them before. "I've gotta—"

    "Wait—"

    "No!" Ashley ripped her arm from Steve's gentle grip almost as quick as he caught it.

   His brows furrowed, "Ashley—"

   But she was already forcing her way through the halls of Tina's house, scrubbing her fists into her watery eyes. Her head was fiery with heat, her breathing was laboured, and everything felt like an unwanted dream. Ashley's life currently felt like a nightmare, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't find a way to wake herself up from it.

    "Ashley?"

   Not now, her heart screamed, please not now.

    "Ashley?" Jonathan Byers called out as she scrambled past him, his eyes widening in worry. "Ashley?!"

    "Leave me alone!"

    "What? But—"

    "Leave me alone, Jonathan!" She screamed over the music. He fell to an abrupt stop, taken aback by her new temperament, and debated whether following her was the right thing to do. He once heard from his mother that you should never leave a girl alone had she seemed drunk and vulnerable, but he had also heard that they deserved time alone if they asked for it. Jonathan's mind spun, his options circling like sharks in the water. Before the boy could even decide, however, he realised Ashley was already gone; lost in teens that flogged every corner of Tina's home. Dammit, Jonathan felt it dawn on him, you idiot!

   You should have gone after her!

   Unbeknownst to him, Steve felt the same way.

   But Ashley didn't want them to. She didn't want either of them following her, nor anyone.

   Ashley didn't want Steve Harrington acting like he understood, and she didn't want Jonathan Byers calming her when she delved into his little brother's broken mind almost daily— Ashley had no desire to look them in the eyes and lie. To tell them she was fine, to say the blood still steadily pouring from her nostril was nothing. Yet she had no desires to tell them the truth, either. It wasn't a feasible option. Ashley Miller didn't have any options, anymore. There was nothing she could do.

   She was stuck.

   What she once considered a blessing was slowly feeling more of a curse, and there was absolutely nothing that she could do to fix it.

   Soon, Ashley burst through the front door and into the night. It was cold outside, and the feeling soothed her warm cheeks. Ashley no longer felt like her insides were burning, and it allowed a vague moment of peace to hold her close.

   A sob broke past her lips.

   And across town, Will Byers' eyes cried those exact tears.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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