HYPNOTIC, VOL I!

SEVEN, "LIGHTS OUT"

Violet thinks she should've called out of work today. With everything that happened the previous night, she's not really sure she's entirely present right now. Her head has been pounding all day, like there's fingers digging right into her brain, tearing into the flesh and breaking it down with what feels like a course of harsh laughter following. And when her head spins as she moves too fast, it's like her own mind is mocking her. Reminding her she shouldn't have gotten up after Steve left.

After Steve left.

Fuck. Because after Steve left, she thinks her entire guard went back down, and as she watched him slip out of her bedroom door with his shoes in hand, the first finger ripped at her brain at that moment. Digging and digging and digging until it couldn't go any further.

Holding her hand to her forehead as she takes a deep breath, she's shocked by the warmth she feels. The burn of her body, basically radiating right off her skin.

A second finger digs right into her brain with the first.

It doesn't help that the cinema is busier than usual today. There's a special sneak preview of this new movie called Day of the Dead that they were able to get their hands on. Violet had expected a larger crowd, but she didn't expect the line of customers to start hours before the movie even started. Apparently, Hawkins has a lot of horror movie fanatics.

Violet is so not one of those people.

Horror movies aren't her thing, and she doesn't think they ever will be. Especially after last night.

She's more of a romantic comedy type of girl. Things that make her happy and feel lighter — not things that make it hard to sleep or leave her even more scared of the dark than she already is.

Despite this, the night is going alright. There haven't been any major issues, and she's successfully gotten all the horror movie buffs through the door without complaints. She wants to pat herself on the back for this because, from her experience, it's not always this easy. There's always a few people that complain even though she can't do anything about the wait time or literally any other issue directly related to the film itself.

She works at the ticket booth. That's it (well, also the occasional cleaning, but that's for another reason entirely — that's not her job). She doesn't smooth out the flow of customers or handle the disputes if they aren't related to ticket sales directly. That's a job for her manager – bless her soul.

Violet would hate that job.

So when Violet's manager – she's called Ronda, but she goes by Ronnie – comes up behind her with crossed arms, she immediately knows there's something wrong. She was hoping nothing would go wrong during the rest of this showing because she just wants to go home. She just wanted one smooth shift. Just one. There's always something that goes wrong while she's here.

"What's wrong?" Violet decides to ask.

"I just had someone complain that their seats were taken already," Ronnie points out. "Again."

Violet swears she didn't oversell tickets. She swears. She doesn't do that; she even keeps a tally on an old piece of paper noting all the tickets she's sold so she doesn't oversell tickets.

"That doesn't make sense," Violet says.

Ronnie raises a brow, and over her shoulder, Violet can see the disgruntled couple at the counter, awaiting her manager's return with possible answers to the problem. "You sure you didn't oversell?"

"I'm positive," Violet says, but her heart is racing as she says it.

She can't lose this job over something she didn't even do, right? Like, maybe they just went to the wrong seats. Or maybe they went to the wrong theater. Or maybe someone snuck into the theater and took their spots –

And that's when she realizes.

Fucking hell, she thinks.

Fucking Steve, she decides to add.

She's sure it was him; it's not the first time he's snuck people into the theater before through the back entrance of the cinema. She thinks it's those kids he claims to babysit, but she doesn't go around memorizing the faces of everyone she's sold tickets to throughout the night. She sees too many people a night for that, so it's not like she can try to funnel them out after they leave the theater in a herd.

"Can I take my break?" Violet asks suddenly.

Ronnie pulls her brows together, but nods anyway. Violet knows she doesn't actually think this is Violet's fault because Violet's been nothing but a stellar employee since she started working here a month ago (...Right?). She's come early, she's stayed late, she's cleaned more theaters than she thought she would (because that's not usually in her job title), she keeps a fucking tally of everyone she's sold tickets to –

Ronnie must know this isn't on her.

But as soon as she sees her manager's head nod, Violet is twisting on the stool and heading for the back door of the cinema. It's created to blend in with the wall – being the same ugly crimson color as the walls of the cinema are. Pulling open the handle, Violet uses muscle memory to walk to her destination, through the cold, gray hallways behind various outlets on this level of the mall.

Her head spins at her quick movements, and she feels another finger dig into her brain. Ripping and shredding. Tearing.

She skirts around a man carrying a box, mumbling an apology as she bumps his shoulder. He grumbles under his breath, but she ignores it as she keeps turning corners.

Then, Violet opens the door to the break room of Scoops Ahoy and hears a yelp immediately upon entering. It makes Violet jump at the sound, and her head gives a heavy thump in response. She closes her eyes for a second, placing her hand on her forehead to some sort of relief.

"Jesus – what the hell?"

It's Robin. Her feet – that had previously been popped up on the table lazily – are now on the ground, and her hand is against her rapidly beating chest.

"Robin," Violet breathes out. "Hi."

"Hi?"

"Is he here?" Violet asks then.

Robin rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair again, letting herself settle down from almost having a fucking heart attack – why did Violet just bust in here like that? "He's always here, scooping ice cream for needy children every day. Real hard work for him. He's such a complainer, I don't know how you put up with –"

But Violet doesn't have time to listen to this; she doesn't have the longest breaks, and she really needs to get back on Ronnie's good side. This means Violet needs to take a short break and also do exceptional work for the rest of the night. And probably for the rest of the week.

"Tell Steve to stop sneaking children into the movie theater before I get fired," Violet says. She has yet to close the door to the break room; she just stands there with her hand holding it open because she doesn't intend to be here for that long.

Plus, she doesn't really know what she'd say to Steve if she actually saw him, now that she thinks about it. Would he bring up last night? Look at her with fucking pity or something?

She hopes not.

She doesn't want that. Not from him.

She's here for one thing, and one thing only: To get Steve to stop sneaking these fucking kids in. She didn't think this was an issue she'd ever have.

"Unfortunately," Robin starts. "I can't control what dingus does."

Violet wants to groan when Robin says this because she literally cannot lose her job. She needs this money for college. Without this job, she has no funding. The thought alone sends her into a panic — her heart racing and her chest beginning to ache.

It kind of feels like Violet's body is giving out on her today.

So, deciding to put her job ahead of her own feelings, she grumbles beneath her breath and walks out to the front where she knows Steve is.

And sure enough, he's rinsing his ice scoop before helping the next customer in line.

"Robin, I don't want to hear anything about your stupid tally crap –" And Steve stops when he sees Violet standing on the other side of the door. Robin follows her out with a sigh and takes the next customer as Steve continues to look at her.

His big, brown eyes stare right at her. Usually, this would make her heart beat rapidly, moving so quickly in her chest that she can barely hear anything around her. But this time? It's not the same.

There's pity in his big, brown eyes.

Fucking pity.

And those same eyes look at her softly. It makes her want to crumble. "What are you doing here? Are you OK –?"

She looks away from him, not letting him read her eyes. Not allowing herself to look at the pity within his own. "You're going to make me lose my job," she says.

"What do you mean?"

And then she does look at him, pulling her brows together. "By sneaking people into the movie theater?"

His mouth drops, and she watches as his tongue runs along the back of his teeth in thought. "You know about that?"

"Know about – fuck, Steve," she says. "Yes, I know you're sneaking kids into the theater. Stop it. Please."

"They're very demanding kids –"

"I don't care," she says as she rolls her eyes. "You're an adult. Tell them no."

He's quiet after that. His hands are loosely resting on his hips, and his eyes land on the ceiling as he thinks. She can see the gears spinning in his head.

Then, after a moment, he says softly, "You really might lose your job?"

"I don't know, Steve, but my boss thinks I'm overselling fucking tickets," she points out. "I don't oversell tickets, OK?"

Steve nods curtly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "You're right."

"I am," she confirms. "So...stop it."

"Alright."

"OK," she echoes.

Neither of them says anything after that. They just stand there, and it feels weird.

Things aren't usually weird like this between them.

Before either of them can say anything else, the lights around them flicker momentarily before shutting off completely. Violet's suddenly surrounded in darkness. The entire mall goes black.

And she feels her heart start to race. Thump, thump, thump – she can hear it in her ears. Feel it in her ears.

Thumpthumpthump —

"Please tell me you see that, too?" Violet asks, her voice shaking.

Steve's head turns to her, and Robin says, "I don't see shit. The power's out."

Her heart kind of calms down then. Because she's obviously not the only one that sees the darkness all around them. This is obviously not the same situation as last night.

And Steve's still watching her, his eyes desperately trying to read hers before he looks around and says, "That's weird."

Suddenly standing beside her, his warmth taking over her whole body, Steve starts to flick the light switch repeatedly. It doesn't do anything. The place stays dark, and Violet's fingers start to twist together nervously.

"That isn't gonna work, dingus," Robin says.

"Oh, really?" Steve asks as he begins to flip the light switch on and off and on and off and on and off and –

Violet's body starts to get hot as her the fingers dig deeper into her brain, ripping little pieces of flesh and tossing them elsewhere. She tugs at her blouse to pull it away from her skin. Something feels off but she can't tell what it is. It's just a fucking power outage; it's nothing crazy. She knows that.

But it doesn't stop her from feeling that suffocation the darkness brings – the tug and pull at her chest whenever she can't see anything around her. When her mind starts to conjure up these images in the darkness, making her question what's reality and what's not. Real or not real?

But she can feel Steve. He's standing right in front of her; his warmth is right there, shooting little bits of fire down her body. It's real.

It should be calming her racing heart – it usually does – but it's not. Right now, it's doing absolutely nothing. All his presence is doing is reminding her of just that – his presence. Standing in front of her, repeatedly flipping a light switch that is obviously doing nothing.

And when the lights flip back on, Steve waves his hand towards the sudden illumination. "Let there be light."

But something still feels wrong. Her hair stands on end, and she can't really comprehend the whole situation. A regular power outage shouldn't make her feel like this – like there's some sort of fucking deeper meaning to it.

So, when Steve turns back around to her and she's rubbing her hand along the back of her neck, she decides to say, "Whatever. I'm going back to work."

"Are you sure –?" Steve starts.

"Stop letting kids into my theater," she cuts him off. "Please. I need this job."

"OK."

"OK."

There's something there that wasn't there this morning when he left, but she can't pinpoint exactly what it is. She thinks maybe she's the one causing the whole thing – the feeling between them. She probably is. Steve doesn't usually get upset with her; it's not something he does.

People don't get mad at Violet.

She doesn't do anything to make people upset because she's always thinking about people's feelings and actions and the future with everything she does.

She leaves without saying anything else, walking through the back entrance and all the way back to the theater. When she finally gets there, Ronnie is putting up the sign saying they're closed. Once the current customers in the theater leave, they'll be able to clean the entire place and clock out for the night.

Violet hopes it goes by quickly, but she doubts it will due to the number of people she sold tickets to tonight. There's bound to be sticky messes and popcorn spilled all over the floors and wrappers stuffed between the seats and –

Fuck, she kind of hates this job. Well, that part at least.

But not enough to actually stop working here. It's easy money. And she needs money.

"Did the power go out here, too?" Violet asks.

Ronnie spins around, the cash from the register in the ticket booth in her hands. "Yeah. I think it's all good now. I had Trevor check all the theaters."

"Good."

But Ronnie doesn't answer because she's too busy counting the cash in her hands. It's not anything related to the mishap earlier, Violet doesn't think; the cash needs to be counted every night. Violet's just usually the one that does it.

So, Violet takes her place behind the other counter, where she serves the last few customers in need of beverages and food before she starts wiping down counters. She fills up a bag of popcorn for her to take home after work and runs through the checklist in her head. She's done everything. Everything she possibly can.

Fuck, Violet is a stellar employee. She swears.

She can't believe this is even happening right now.

And Ronnie doesn't usually stay this late, but now it feels like she's watching Violet's every move – and maybe that's just Violet being paranoid. She can't tell. So, she scrubs all the stains and sweeps the floor and organizes a bunch of random shit that isn't even in Violet's job description.

She hates this.

She absolutely hates this.

Violet walks through her front door at exactly 11:32 PM. She feels drained, and she feels sticky, and she desperately needs a shower. She just wants to feel clean, and she wants to curl up in her bed and eat her popcorn and watch a dumb movie that she probably won't even pay attention to.

But the lights are on when she comes in, and it makes her pause when she closes the door. Her mom is sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal. Violet wonders momentarily if she's stepped into some other universe where her mom is awake past nine o'clock.

This is weird.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Violet decides to ask, using her heels to peel off her sneakers. She'd briefly seen her parents before going to work, though she didn't expect to. They must've gotten an earlier flight or something.

It's probably why Steve snuck off so early.

"I was waiting for you," her mom says.

"Me?" Violet asks.

"Do I have another daughter?" her mom teases, taking another bite of her cereal. Then, her mom pats the seat next to her, and Violet finds herself taking the seat, setting her bag onto the counter in front of her.

"Don't think so," Violet replies.

Her mom is quiet for a little bit, like she's mulling over something in her head. Her fingers twist in front of her in the same way that Violet often twists her own. "Look...I have a question for you. Your dad and I do."

"Where is dad?" Violet decides to ask.

She nods her head in the direction of their bedroom. "In bed. I told him I would talk to you. He's still pretty tired from traveling."

"Oh, OK."

Violet can see the thoughts in her mom's head spinning around, like she's trying to decide how to word something or whether she should even say it at all. This makes Violet nervous; her family doesn't really do these little sit down and share our feelings talks. They're not here enough for it.

"Do you...Do you get lonely here?" her mom asks then. "When your dad and I leave. I – we don't want to keep leaving you here like this."

Does she get lonely? The short answer is yes, she does get lonely.

But, also, Violet thinks that if you spend enough time with something like that — something like loneliness — you kind of start to like it. To wish for it. The feeling of no expectations and nowhere to be and no one watching out for you. Having your own life in the palm of your hands.

Loneliness...It kind of feels like a hand that was once sitting on your shoulder — warm, comforting, always present. And then...it evaporates. Lifts off your shoulder, disappearing into nothingness and leaving you with everything that's left behind. Forgotten.

But still, she says, "Mom...I'm OK. It's OK. It's your job."

"Are you sure? Joan –" Violet almost curses at the name of her neighbor — the one that 'watches' her while her parents are away. "She said she heard you scream last night...Are you having your nightmares again?"

And Violet shakes her head. Her mom stopped worrying about those years ago. There's no point in bringing it up again. Not if it was only a one-time thing. "No. No, I'm fine. I just – I thought the power went out, and it kind of freaked me out. It's OK, really. Steve came over; he helped me."

Her mom seems to find peace with this because Violet watches as her shoulders sink with relief and as she lets out a deep breath.

"Hm. I like Steve," her mom hums with a small smile.

I like Steve, too, Violet wants to say.

"I know you do," she says instead.

Her mom takes another bite of her cereal then. It's a way for her to pause for a moment — to think.

Violet looks at the bowl of cereal. Frosted Flakes float around in the milk, and she wonders for a moment if they've gotten soggy, and if her mom even cares that they might be soggy.

And then she looks back at her mom.

"Do you like Steve?" her mom asks suddenly, but she doesn't look at Violet when she says this.

"Mom."

Her mom raises her brows then. "What? It's just a question."

Just a question. Violet doesn't really believe this.

Violet thinks her mom is a bit of a gossip (in the absolute nicest way possible). She thinks if she told her mom anything about her feelings for Steve that her little pool friends would find out somehow, and who knows who they would tell.

But Violet knows her mom just wants to talk about her. Her mom loves to brag — to tell others how well her daughter has been doing. How much she loves her. Violet beat a school record. Violet's the captain of the cross country team. Violet's going to a big school in California! Go Violet!

Violet is so cool.

But Violet doesn't think so.

So Violet says, "Steve's my friend."

"OK."

Violet feels like there's little question marks spinning around her head right now. Maybe it's just because she's tired. Maybe it's because her mom is being weird. "OK? What's that about?"

"I just said OK," her mom says, taking another bite of her cereal.

Her soggy cereal.

Violet is so confused right now.

"You hinted at something, mom. Come on."

Then, her mom sighs. "I just – I feel like there's something there. But it's not my place. I don't need to comment on it."

Violet wishes there was something there – something tangible that would tell her that there's something. That, maybe, Steve and Violet could be more one day. That they could be...well...Violet and Steve. Steve and Violet.

Billy fucking swears he sees it.

And Violet doesn't always know if she believes that. But, sometimes, she thinks she does.

So, she purses her lips and gives a single, curt nod. "I feel like you think about romance books too much..."

"I write romance books," her mom points out.

"Exactly."

Then, she pauses. "Fair enough."

Violet doesn't say anything after that, mostly because she doesn't really know what to say. She just sticks her hand into the bag of popcorn that's hiding in her bag and grabs a handful, tossing pieces into her mouth as her mom chews on the last bit of her own soggy food.

And her mom ends the silence with a question Violet wasn't really wanting her to ask tonight. Or ever.

"So...How are you and Billy –?" she asks.

"Mom."

Her mom blinks like the statement offended her — like she didn't expect Violet to reply that way. "What? I can't ask how my only daughter's relationship is going?"

"It's almost midnight," Violet says instead.

"Yeah, it's almost midnight, and I'm curious –"

"Mom!"

"OK!" Her mom holds her hands up defensively, and Violet watches as she slides out of her chair with the empty bowl in hand. She takes it to the sink, rinsing it thoroughly before putting it in the dishwasher.

Violet sighs then. "Billy and I are fine. Happy?"

Her mom leans against the counter. "You ever going to introduce him to us?"

Violet shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Maybe not?"

Definitely not.

"I don't know. It's still kind of new," she says.

She doesn't want to introduce Billy to her family. For one, he's Billy. And also, the whole thing isn't real. She doesn't want her family to somehow get attached to him like it could be real, and then have to explain their breakup once it's all over.

That sounds absolutely horrible.

"OK. I get it. You just – you didn't tell me you even had a boyfriend until a few weeks ago."

Violet kind of feels bad about this. She used to tell her mom a lot of things, but with Billy, she doesn't find herself wanting to do that. "I wanted to see if it was going somewhere."

"...And is it?"

Is it? No. It's not. Violet can't see herself liking Billy in that way. She just assumes it'll all be over by next month when she leaves for college and he...does whatever Billy Hargrove does when he's not in high school anymore. She still thinks he should leave Hawkins — get away from his dad. From this place. "I don't know? He's Billy."

"He's Billy..." her mom echoes with a nod.

"Yeah."

"OK."

"...Yeah."

It's silent for a moment. Kind of awkward. It lingers in the air around them — the suffocating feeling.

Violet eats some more popcorn, scratching at her thigh. She just wants to shower.

"I'm not sure I know what that means," her mom decides to say.

"Me either," Violet says.

"And Steve?"

Fucking Steve.

If Violet knew anything about Steve and what goes on in his head, she wouldn't be with Billy. She wouldn't have let Billy talk her into this fake relationship to make her best friend jealous. She wouldn't have let Billy lean her against that wall and press his lips to hers that night. She wouldn't have done any of it.

There would be no Billy if she knew exactly what Steve was thinking.

And she thinks she used to. Not anymore.

"What about Steve?" she asks.

"How do you feel about him?" her mom asks.

Violet's quick to say, "He's my best friend."

"Yeah?"

"Always has been."

Her mom hums and starts the dishwasher. "That's it?"

"Yes, mom."

"OK."

Violet stuffs more popcorn into her mouth, and this time it fills her cheeks, making it a little hard to breathe. But she doesn't care. She needs something else to occupy her mind.

Why not suffocate on movie theater popcorn instead of continuing this conversation?

When her mom finally decides to go to bed, Violet feels relief flood her body. She gathers her belongings (by belongings, she means her giant bag of popcorn). She practically runs to the shower upstairs, peeling all her sticky clothes off and letting the hot water run down her body until she can no longer smell the movie theater on her skin.

And once she's curled up in her bed with her popcorn sitting between her crossed legs, flipping on the television with Sixteen Candles already inserted and ready to play, she feels her heart start to settle for the first time that day. She decides to leave the television on to sleep as well as her lamp just beside her bed – that maybe that'll stop what happened last night from happening again.

She still doesn't know if any of it was real.

But it felt real.

If she thinks hard enough, she swears it feels like she's back there. That she can feel the chill and hear the screams and touch that slick feeling on the ground —

The phone rings beside her then, and she immediately picks it up to avoid waking up her parents. "Hello?"

"Violet?"

"Steve?" she asks.

Her heart starts the race, and she almost chokes on a piece of popcorn. Covering the bottom of the landline, she lets out a cough and presses her hand to her chest. Fuck.

Talk about suffocating on popcorn, she thinks.

"Yeah."

"Do you know what time it is?" she asks once she regains her composure (see here: by deep breathing. In and out and in and out and in and out). Her voice is a whisper, but she knows her parents can't even hear her right now. She doesn't know why she's whispering.

And he doesn't even answer her question.

"Robin thinks I'm a dumbass," he says instead.

"What?"

"Robin. She keeps calling me a dumb – whatever. I just feel bad," he says then.

Violet pauses. "...For calling at midnight?"

"No," he says. "For earlier. I don't want to get you fired."

And now Violet feels bad. She didn't mean to make him feel this way; she was just stressed and overwhelmed and didn't want to lose her job.

But this is what she always does — puts Steve's feelings ahead of her own, despite any of the consequences.

Because she thinks she should be upset by this whole situation. But she can't because it's Steve.

Fucking Steve.

Steve, who's a ray of sunshine in her life. Steve, who wouldn't ever think about hurting her intentionally. Steve, who picks her up when she can't drive to work. Steve, who calls her late at night to make sure she got home safe.

Steve, her best fucking friend.

She can't ever be mad at him. Not really.

"I — uh — I don't think I'll get fired, if that makes you feel better," she says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she confirms.

Molly Ringwald's voice echoes in the background, and Violet has to reach across her bed to turn it down so she can hear Steve better. She's always had this issue with multiple sounds at once — she can't focus on both. And too many loud sounds makes it hard to focus. With Molly Ringwald on her television, she can't focus on the phone. On Steve.

"What are you watching?" he asks.

"Oh, uh, Sixteen Candles," she says. She wonders if he heard it in the background or if he just knows her that well. "I've got my popcorn and everything."

"You should've gotten me some," he says. "I love movie theater popcorn."

"Shut up. You know you can come get free popcorn whenever you want —"

"Really?"

"Really," she says. "I visit you all the time. Why don't you visit me?"

It's quiet for a few seconds, and she can hear his breathing on the other end of the line. "I always just assume you're busy."

Without a beat, she replies, "I'm never too busy for you, Steve. Seriously."

When he goes quiet again, she starts to chew on her bottom lip. She readjusts her position, setting the bag of popcorn on her nightstand. Her heart won't settle in her chest — it beats so rapidly she thinks she can see it outside her shirt.

That's why they call them crushes, she hears on the television.

And Violet hits stop. She shuts her television off completely.

"Well," he says. "I really am sorry."

And she'll always accept his apologies. Because he's Steve. And he's like the fucking sun that she rotates all around. She spins and spins and spins around him like it's her lifeline.

Because it is.

And she watches the sun rise and fall in his big, brown eyes.

"It's OK, Steve," she says.

And it is.

Because she's already thinking about the sun setting as she starts to fall asleep with his voice on the other end of the line.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: sigh I kind of hate this chapter but also don't. Idk. Cant tell :-)

🫀violet's mom!!! i love her, she's so cute. what do y'all think of her?

🫀steve harrington.....no words for this man. all love xoxo to our mans

I'd like to point out two things for you guys btw!

🫀one: violet's not really involved with the scoop's troop's storyline this season, but that's not to say she never sees them and doesn't interact with them. bc she does quite often. remember, steve's trying to keep her out of it, so he def wouldn't want her helping with some russian code. she also just has a lot of her own things going on this season, as you'll come to find out, wink wink nudge nudge

🫀two: that being said!!!! steve and vi are technically slow burn, I won't lie to you guys 😀 vi has so much going on this season and steve needs to get his head out of his ass before I'll allow him to touch my sweet child so 🙅‍♀️ BUT ALSO, when it all goes down......*collective swoon* it's gonna be so good. we'll still get our sweet stiolet moments obviously, but anything beyond that as of rn...not yet.

MUCH LOVE, I love you guys so much. Thank you for commenting and reading and voting — it really keeps me going and makes me so excited. I love seeing all of your comments. ❤️❤️