[ THREE ]
[ THE BREAKFAST CLUB ]

— ❁ ❁ ❁ —

Brandi's week went by faster than she expected. School was a drag at times, but it had its perks. Every day was the same, but different; Jeff had a new story to tell, Nancy had a new assignment to stress over, and Eric had to be dropped off at the arcade at the same time after school.

Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of The Rolling Stones, Brandi sat in her truck outside of the arcade impatiently, windows down and music on full blast. She puffed her cigarette out, boots sitting up on the dashboard lazily. A middle-aged woman from across the parking lot scrunched up her face at the sight, so Brandi leaned over and lifted up her middle finger against the window. The lady gasped, then scurried off to her Station Wagon.

Eric was obsessed with the arcade. It seemed he made some friends since they moved to Hawkins, contrary to Brandi's long-lasting belief that he hung out at the arcade by himself. Every time he walked outside the building, four boys around his age would wave him goodbye, and then would stare at Brandi's truck in pure fear as she zoomed off.

After about ten minutes of tapping her boots on the window, Brandi was getting bored waiting for her brother. She quickly put out her cigarette and got out of the vehicle, turning her car keys around in her hand as she walked towards the arcade.

As soon as she walked in, she wished she had stayed in the truck. Loud explosion noises boomed from every corner of the place, and kids were crawling everywhere. She'd never seen so many kids at one place. From the other side of the room Brandi could faintly hear a kid-like voice screaming curse words in a country slang. Bingo.

"Fuck you, Frogger! Fuck you! Goddammit!"

Brandi made a beeline towards the shouting. Sure enough, Eric Sutton had his hands over his head in defeat, standing in front of the Frogger game with four boys crowded around him.

"Dude, you suck," the dark-skinned boy said, putting his hand on Eric's shoulder.

A curly haired boy with a baseball cap on his head pushed Eric out of the way, cracking his knuckles. "Let the master show you how it's done."

The group exploded in protest. Brandi rolled her eyes, walking towards the group. The raven-haired boy saw her first, his eyes widening as he elbowed his friends around him. One by one, they all stared at her, and finally Eric locked eyes with Brandi and winced with disgust. "What are ya doin' here?"

"Pickin' ya up, dickwad." She tilted her head towards the front doors. "Come on, let's go."

"One more game," Eric pleaded. "Please?"

"We're gonna be late to dinner, Eric," Brandi told him, looking down at her nonexistent watch.

Eric sighed in defeat, turning to his friends who still looked at Brandi in confusion. "Sorry, guys. I'll see y'all tomorrow."

"Bye, Eric," the boys all said in unison, the one with the cap giving a small wave.

As the pair walked off, Eric immediately glared at his sister. "I could've stayed for at least another game."

Brandi shrugged. "I was bored."

"Couldn't ya have gone to one of your friend's houses?"

She thought about his question as they pushed through the front doors. Names started to pile up in her mind: Jeff, Nancy. Jeff could be a friend — maybe. She did see him almost every day, and she got along with him the most out of everyone. Nancy wasn't exactly a friend, either; Brandi only saw her at school, and it was all during English class when the brunette's attention was on her boyfriend sitting in front of her.

"I don't really have friends," Brandi decided.

She unlocked her truck and got in while Eric audibly snorted, bouncing his way into his seat. "So I have friends and you don't? This is new."

Brandi turned the ignition to the truck, changing the gear to drive and turned out of the parking lot. "Y'know, you've really gotten a helluva ego since you got those friends."

"At least I have some," Eric clapped back.

The blonde chuckled as she turned onto the highway to get back home. "You're a goddamn prick, ya know that?"

Cool wind whipped across the siblings' faces due to the windows that were down. Brandi's long hair whipped behind her, creating a halo around her face frame. She smiled a little as she tapped to the beat of the low volume rock music on the radio. No cigarette was perched in between her fingers, for she didn't really need it at that moment. Eric frowned, staring at her, until he finally murmured, "I miss Mom."

She felt her heart sink. Mom. The back of Brandi's eyes started to sting, but she immediately pushed the need to cry down her chest, leaving her throat thick. Swallowing, she took a deep breath, staring at the deep horizon that seemed to swallow Hawkins as they moved to the outskirts of it.

"Me too, Eric," Brandi muttered. The cold feeling that she felt before started to creep up her neck, giving her goosebumps. "Me too."

| | |

And all of a sudden, it was Friday.

Friday was the day of the week that everyone prayed to God that it would come as fast as it could, even if they were religious or not. Brandi felt the same, of course. Whether it was Earnest or Hawkins, Friday meant exciting football games, smoking and drinking with friends, and doing the regular shit that teenagers would do; kids practically counted down the days till the next Friday.

For Brandi, her Friday night consisted of work.

Yes, they accepted her application (Jeff just told her at school), and yes, they needed her to come in on the fucking weekend. Although she was sort of excited about her first actual job, she couldn't help but be pissed off on the fact that it was a Friday. She sort of felt like a brat. Danny was more pissed that she was complaining more than anything, going off about how he had to stay up late on various night shifts in the week for the police job. Brandi thought that was somewhat fair, but nonetheless, she still was petty about it.

Perhaps the best part about having the weekend shift was that it meant that she'd be working with Jeff. If Brandi had to work with some random people that she didn't know beforehand, it would most likely give her a hell of anxiety and as a result she'd give someone the wrong hamburger and start hyperventilating and apologizing too much. Nevertheless, Jeff was there, and even though she knew him for maybe four days, she felt like she knew him for forever.

The restaurant that they worked at was a busy one. It was located right in the middle of downtown Hawkins—or, as close as you could get to a downtown. The place got tons of business just because of its location, so Friday nights, as Jeff told her, was a complete hell for all of the workers. Brandi never knew what Jeff meant until she was there in the middle of it.

Brandi managed to understand the cash register, even after Jeff poorly tried to explain it. That part was fine, but waiting the tables was her favorite. From working the tables she learned quickly that there were many types of people in Hawkins, as follows: the stuck-up rich, the (sometimes) nice middle class, and the straight up rude ones were just a few to name.

(None were any sort of cowboy, to Brandi's dismay, but maybe that was a good thing.)

Working in a restaurant kept her on her toes at all times. On the ranch, she would always be ready for any type of danger to the animals, the generator, or her family. She learned how to manage a gun by the age of seven. Protection to the ranch always came first. Although ranch work was tiring and physically draining, working at a restaurant was a lot harder for Brandi to handle. She'd much rather tend to a horse than tend to rude people.

All of the Friday craze was through and done with after about two hours of busy work. When the latter group of customers left the restaurant, doorbell ringing in relief, a widespread sigh escaped the workers. Brandi went out behind the building to smoke, while Jeff stayed in, obsessed with flipping his single quarter that he got as a tip.

As Brandi leaned against the brick wall outside, smoking her cigarette, she couldn't help but notice the cold breeze that she felt against her. It was the fall, so it was supposed to be cold like this, but not this cold. Freezing would be the better word to describe it. She felt goosebumps trickle up her sleeve; her hand was shaking. Brandi felt herself be taken back to the episode she had just days before. It felt the exact same. Why, oh, why did she have to get nervous every time she went outdoors when it was just a little cold?

She felt stupid. Slowly, but surely, the goosebumps subsided, but the cold air was still upon her. It was just the weather. Brandi shook her head, lighting out her cigarette while wrapping herself up tighter in her jacket. "Fuckin' stupid," she murmured. She felt inferior when she was outdoors after her incident, and she hated it. She left in a hurry.

As soon as she cleared the door frame to go inside, Jeff bounded towards her, smiling widely. "I bring good news."

"Please, enlighten me," Brandi replied, shutting the door behind her. She didn't say it with any sort of sarcasm either, surprisingly; good news was something that she needed to hear.

Jeff gave one of his signature grins. "The cattle has been cleared."

Brandi blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"Oh." Jeff frowned. "Do you guys not say stuff like that in Texas? I guess not. What I meant to say is that there's no more customers, so we can do whatever the hell we want now!"

That was good news for sure. She needed a break. "Thank fuckin' God," Brandi muttered.

Just as she took another step forward to get another cigarette, the ring of the front door chime galloped into her ears from across the building, and she audibly groaned so loud that the head chef, Louis, gave her a concerned look from around the corner. As soon as he gave her the look, though, he started to pour pancake batter onto a flat stove as if the door chime meant PANCAKE TIME.

"That would be Steve," Jeff said excitedly, twiddling his fingers around a towel that he picked up from a nearby counter.

Steve? Brandi wondered if he was the same Steve that was Nancy's boyfriend from English class. It couldn't be just him, though. He seemed like a preppy boy, and preppy boys don't just go into a restaurant without their preppy friends. At least that's what Brandi thought preps did — her source being the cheesy movies her and her mom watched on rainy days. She didn't have any true preps at her old school — cowboy or rancher were the only words to describe people — so she was completely clueless about the behaviors that Nancy's boyfriend would be doing.

Indeed, it was Steve from English class; Brandi could've recognized the back of his perfectly gelled hair from a mile away. He was not accompanied by any of his preppy friends. Steve made his way to the corner booth of the restaurant, right where the painted red wall met with the windows that framed the front parking lot. With a huff, recognizing that that happened to be one of her tables, Brandi started to walk to Steve's table to ask for his order. Jeff scurried in front of her before she could get there, awkwardly pursing his lips. He shook his head, motioning towards the table. "Don't bother. He gets the same thing every time."

As if on cue, Louis pushed three plates their way across the metal table. When Brandi looked down, she saw a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with a small square of butter on the top. The smell was sweet when she inhaled; she felt her stomach flip and suddenly wondered when the last time she ate was.

"Damn," Brandi said.

"I know, right?" Jeff chortled, grabbing two of the plates from the table. When he noticed that Brandi was still standing awkwardly, he gave her an incredulous look. "Don't just stand there. Grab your plate!"

Brandi could almost feel her stomach surge with happiness — either from the idea of eating food or that she just realized she just might have a friend now. Following Jeff's order, Brandi picked up the plate of pancakes hesitantly. She trailed behind the dark-headed boy as he made his way to Steve's booth.

As the pair approached the table, Steve's eyes landed on the plate of food in Jeff's hands almost immediately and snatched it from him as soon as he got into arm's reach. "God, I really needed this." His fork appeared in his hand, scooping up the pancakes rapidly as if it was his last day on Earth.

Jeff gawked at him as he slid in the other side of the booth with Brandi following. "Jesus, slow down. You're making the new girl scared shitless."

Steve looked up from his plate for a half second, making eye contact with Brandi and wincing a smile. "Hi," he greeted, and then he went back to scarfing his pancakes, his cheeks filled up with food. "Yur frum Englith clath righ?"

Picking up her fork, Brandi nodded, eyeing him. "Yeah, you're Nancy's boyfriend."

Jeff's head popped up from looking down at his plate from the mention of a name, clearing his throat. "Speaking of, how are you two?"

"Fine," Steve said forcefully after he swallowed a bite. "We're perfect, actually."

"Why are ya here by yourself, then?" Brandi questioned, stabbing at a chocolate chip.

Steve looked a little offended at the question. "I come in here every Friday," he answered matter-a-factly.

"So he can rant about his girl problems to me," Jeff muttered. As he pursed his lips, Brandi noticed that his plate looked more like he was playing with his food than actually eating it.

Steve pointed his fork at Jeff and narrowed his eyes. "Hey, I do not have girl problems. I'm Steve Harrington. Girl problems are nonexistent for me."

"Yeah, and I get paid a million dollars to work here, right." Jeff put his arms across the back of the booth confidently.

Steve puffed out a breath. "Okay, you win." He stared at Brandi and Jeff desperately, his eyes quickly moving back and forth. "I definitely have girl problems."

Brandi raised her eyebrows. "What kinda girl problems ya talkin' 'bout? Nancy's a sweet girl, so maybe you're the problem and not her."

Beside her, Jeff almost choked on his pancakes from stifling a laugh. "I agree with Brandi."

Steve looked at Jeff, obviously betrayed. "Let me get this straight. So some cowgirl comes in here and you suddenly become unsympathetic of me?"

Mouth stuffed with pancakes, Jeff blinked at Brandi and Steve. "Uh. Yeah."

"The cowgirl's name is Brandi." The blonde pursed her lips at the brunette boy across the table from her.

Steve ignored her comment, dropping his fork and running his hands through his hair. "I seriously need help."

"That's why we're here!" Jeff exclaimed, motioning to him and Brandi. He turned to the latter. "It's like a little breakfast club, but at night. We just spill out our problems and eat some fucking pancakes."

"A breakfast club?" Brandi repeated, snorting. "That sounds a little dumb."

Steve looked at her pointedly. "You can leave if you want."

She thought a little and hummed. "I'll stay. Is there any sort of sign up sheet or somethin' for this little club?" The girl joked.

"I'll make one," Jeff said seriously, grabbing a napkin from the condiment area and laying it down flat on the table. Brandi raised her eyebrows as he got a pen from his apron and clicked it.

After he messily wrote THE BREAKFAST CLUB in large letters at the top of the napkin and signed his name below it, Jeff passed the paper and pen across to Steve. "Everyone signs, then." Steve stared at him with wide eyes, and Jeff threw his hands up. "It's not like you're signing your name to the goddamn Devil, jeez."

With that, Steve scribbled his name below Jeff's, and then passed the paper and pen to Brandi. She turned to Jeff before she signed. "Don't sell my autograph to anyone after I become famous."

Jeff looked off, like he was considering actually doing what she said. "Wasn't planning on it."

Brandi swiftly signed her name on the napkin.

Jeff clapped his hands together happily, taking the napkin from her hands. He suddenly wriggled himself down from the booth so he could get underneath the table. Steve leaned down and stared at him. "What the hell, man."

"I'm marking our territory," Jeff explained, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

Brandi watched as he took one of the pieces of gum that was stuck to the bottom of the table and completely rip it off. He put the napkin flat on the bottom of the table, sticking the gum on top of it. What was left was the napkin sitting comfortably with part of it dangling down where the gum wasn't sticking to it.

Jeff crawled out of the miniature cave, wiping his hands. "See? It's ours now."

Brandi smirked a little. "The motherfuckin' breakfast club, huh?"

Steve pondered. "I like it. It's gotta ring to it."

"Well, you better like it," Jeff said, tapping his hand on the table. "Because now you're stuck with us forever."

— ❁ ❁ ❁ —

author's note:
*cue old town road by lil nas x*
speaking of old town road, i have made a modern day playlist for brandi as follows: old town road by lil nas x, take me home, country roads by john denver, and save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich. you're welcome.
also please comment!! (even tho this is unedited and probably trashy!) i love comments!!!!! they make my day better!!!
anyways love y'all and i am surprised i updated this but y'all know how i get when new episodes come out i kinda go crazy
also i stan one (1) power trio and that is brandi, jeff, and steve