WILL POV -

---- Next Day: Sunday 8:12 PM ----

Will Byers stepped out his comfort zone; he was determined.

The brunette sat opposite Max, the girl he had met just a few weeks ago; he was on a mission. The tension between them was thick like a police interrogation, both calculating their next move. Will's face remained cold and unreadable, while Max leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, deep in thought, eyes narrowed as if sizing him up.

It was late evening, and the bustle of people around opposed them; their table was an eery silence. To anyone else, it would have seemed as if a brawl would break out; harsh words and even a few punches would be unleashed.

Just then, Lucas arrived, balancing a tray of drinks, stopping as he assessed at the pair of them, an awkward glance on his face; he didn't know why he was brought here. All Max said was that they were 'summoned' by Will, not elaborating further. He worried what might happen, were they going to argue?

"So, guys..." Lucas said awkwardly, eyes darting between them, "So what's the occasion for this, um, lovely visit?"

Max tilted her head slightly but didn't answer. She was waiting for the brunette to speak first, and by her expression, Lucas could tell something was up; it must be important.

Will took his first slow breath, breaking the silence at last, "Now you're both here," he said serious, his voice low and calm, "I need to talk to both of you."

Max leaned forward, her interest piqued, yet her arms were still crossed as she resisted a smirk, "Talk about what?" beside her, Lucas shifted nervously in his seat, worried.

Will's expression didn't change as he spoke, "I want advice on... how to confess to someone,"

Max's face lit up instantly, practically jumping out of her seat, eyes wide with excitement, "I knew it!" she exclaimed, almost knocking the drinks to the floor.

Lucas meanwhile let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, "Oh man!" he complained, dramatically throwing his hands in the air, "I thought this was gonna be a fight or something. I lost sleep over this!"

Max rolled her eyes, "Really, babe?"

The athletic boy stood up from the table, a playful grin spreading across his face, "Nope, I'm out. If this was just about confessions, then I'm outta here. I was preparing myself for a battle." He stretched his limbs, clearly losing all the tension from his body.

"You thought we were gonna fight?" the brunette questioned confused,

"Who texts at 4am saying they need to talk?" Lucas casted his eyes between Max and Will, "I thought something bad happened,"

"It's for romance!" the redhead answered, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Lucas mock-saluted them, backing from the table, "I'm taking a nap, see you guys in three-to-five business days." Walking to the exit, "Good luck with the confession Will! I'm sure Max's got it handled." He gave a thumbs up before leaving out the front door,

Will watched him walk away, still processing Lucas's exaggerated reaction. He turned back to Max, who was smirking at the retreating figure, "Is he angry at me?" the brunette asked, not good at social cues.

"Eh, don't worry, he's happy for you..." Max looked both ways before leaning closer and whispering, "Lucas is just shy because I was the one who confessed to him."

"What?" Will's eyes widened.

"Yup." The redhead quipped, nodding, "He tried to ask me but he stuttered so much I ended up confessing to him first." She said, leaning in with a grin, "So, now that he's out of the way, let's get down to business."

"So... how do people confess their love?" Will asked the most basic question.

"It depends on the person," Max shrugged taking a sip of her coffee, making a face as she set it down, finding it too bitter.

Will was in agony, he didn't know what to do; he had never even liked anyone before, let alone having to confess his feelings to someone. When it came down to it, he needed professional help and so, decided to ask the two people who he knew were in a relationship; when he texted Max at night, he had to ask at least four times because she was sure he had the wrong person.

The brunette thought about how one would confess; does he hold onto them and confess? Did he bring flowers? A gift? Cash? Where would he confess? At school or at home? And if his confession was accepted, then what?

"The question is, does Mike even want to be in a relationship?" Max added sugar to her drink, "When I tried to set him up on a blind date, he flat out refused."

"What? It's not about..." Will tried to lie to her but it was futile, he could tell from the expression on her face, "How did you know?"

The redhead shrugged casually leaning back in her chair, "The only times you text me is about art and Mike, and I don't think you can confess to art." She joked light-hearted,

"But I never said anything about Mike... you know? In that way." The brunette mumbled, a tad embarrassed,

She smiled soft, "Be real with me Will, it is about Mike, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." The brown-haired boy sighed,

"Do you want my honest opinion?" The redhead questioned,

Will nodded, his expression soft; he felt a weird sense of trust when she spoke. He thought that she resembled Mike somewhat.

"Mike doesn't want to be in a relationship." She stated

"None?" the brown-haired boy pouted, his face falling,

"Yeah; none, absolutely none,"

"Why do you think that?"

"Let's look at this logically, Mike has a nice face and a good personality, if he wanted to be in a relationship don't you think he would have already?" Max explained, "And have you heard him speak about relationships? it's pretty clear!"

The brunette crossed his arms defensively, trying to process her words, and come up with a plausible reason, "Maybe he just hasn't found anyone he likes yet?"

"You really know nothing about dating." Max pointed a finger at him, seeing his naivety, "But, you do know Mike better than I do- let's say Mike hasn't found anyone he likes yet... do you really think he's the type of person that will change his mind after being confessed to?" she said, trying to not break his spirit,

"But Mike's... nice to me," he replied, thinking that maybe he had a chance if Mike was giving him 'special treatment'.

Max leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms, nodding, "I see your point... but sometimes, from my view it can come off sort of parental... as if he sees you as a kid."

"I'm older than him!" Will complained; he was mere days older, but the statement still stood. The words sank in causing his face to falter; he so desperately wanted to believe that Mike's protectiveness and care meant something more, but hearing an outsider's prospective without the rose-tinted goggles, made him question it all.

"That's beside the point!" Max replied,

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Will asked, his voice small.

Max sighed, placing her coffee down, "Looking at all the facts? I'd say let him go calmly. I'm not saying this to be mean, I'm just telling you the truth. It's better to let go than cling onto someone who doesn't like you. I've seen many cases, and it rarely ends well."

"It's okay if Mike doesn't like me back," Will whispered,

'Woah..." the redhead was taken aback, "You must really like him, huh? It's understandable though, if I were you, I'd also like him."

"You can't!" the brunette furrowed his brows, leaving no room for argument,

"I'm not saying I am, I'm saying 'if I were you'. I already have a man... remember? But anyways you've just gotta figure out what you want. Do you want to keep waiting around, hoping Mike will see you the way you want him to? Or do you want to take a chance and tell him how you feel? ...Whatever you choose I'm behind you on it."

"Can you help me?" Will cut into her sentence abruptly, his voice barely audible; she was the only person he knew and trusted when it came to romance.

Max's ears pricked at his words, a teasing smirk on her face, "What was that? Go on, repeat it? Say 'Max, please help me'."

"Please help me, Max..." Will mumbled, feeling embarrassed he had to grovel.

"Louder!" the redhead joked,

Will opened his mouth, taking a small breath, "Please help me... please." He looked down avoiding eye contact; he was very desperate. He needed her help.

He was going to persue Mike.

MIKE POV -

[Sub-Mission Complete: Make Will Byers a Friend]

The ravenette was on the way to the store, pausing as he saw the message, a smile stretching his face, "Huh? Who did he make friends with?"

He thought about who it could be, El? Dustin? Max? Possibly Lucas? The friendship pool was so incredibly small that it could be counted on one hand,

[Would You Like to Claim Your Reward?]

Mike saw the second message; a reward? He was excited what it might be. He was about to nod, but before he could, something past the pop-up screen caught his eyes; smoke was bellowing from the top of the kids' slide; was something on fire? Luckily, there were no kids around, it was too late for that.

When he looked to his side he saw the familiar motorbike parked just outside the confines for the mini-park, the bike as luxurious as its owner; he sighed. Troy was up to some trouble again. He tried to sneak past, not wanting to be seen, but then he walked closer.

Littering the floor, Troy threw something else from the top of the slide... cigarette butts? He was smoking! Now usually he would walk straight past, it wasn't his business and frankly he didn't want to communicate with Troy, but... he was smoking in a public park and even if there were no kids today, it's still detrimental to them. It was mixing with the bark on the floor.

The smell of smoke wafted in the air as if the owner didn't care how many he was smoking. He stepped forward with anger and determination ready to scold him for his actions, "What are you doing?" he advanced, turning the corner of the slide to see his face,

"Who the fu-" Troy looked straight at him, stopping mid-sentence, sniffling.

Troy was sitting on the edge of the slide, his face red, eyes bloodshot and a stray cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers, trying to hold back sobs; Mike could almost feel the sadness radiating off of him. This wasn't the normal bully Mike was used to seeing... this was a different side, raw and vulnerable,

"Are you crying?" he asked.

Troy paused, quiet for the first time ever as he hid his face, his nose was red and he was so embarrassed, not daring to look at Mike.

"What's wrong?" The tall boy questioned, he could never deal with people crying, it always made him want to help no matter who they were.

"I think you've got the wrong person," The bully covered his face more.

"Troy,"

"I don't know who that is,"

Mike rolled his eyes seeing Troy's persistence, he reached a hand out, like a teacher confiscating contraband, "You shouldn't smoke... give me that. It's not good for you." He spoke from experience.

"For fuck's sake," Troy scrunched his face complaining before he complied, putting out the cigarette and handing it to the ravenette, "Why couldn't you have just walked past?" His voice cracked.

"I would have if the entire park didn't look like it was on fire..." Mike looked at the ground, "Or if there weren't cigarette butts on the floor."

"I was going to clean up later." Troy said, lying,

"Don't bullshit me, pick them up now and throw them away." Mike commanded.

Despite his grumbling and profanity, the bully jumped off the slide onto the bark floor below. One by one, he picked up the cigarettes; how many did he smoke? There was at least an entire pack on the ground as he kept picking them up, his fist full.

"You shouldn't be smoking in the park. Actually, you shouldn't be smoking in the first place, it's not good for your health." Mike nagged.

"Ok, mum." Troy chuckled weak at his own joke, his tear-stained cheeks making his face seem less mischievous then usual.

"So why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying." Troy said adamant, turning his head away as he threw the butts in its appropriate place.

"You should look at yourself in the mirror... your face is puffy," Mike pointed out,

"Why do you have to embarrass me like that?" the bully mumbled, somewhat annoyed,

Mike shrugged, "You're crying and chain-smoking... something is obviously wrong,"

For a moment Troy seemed as if he was hesitating what he was about to say. He exhaled slowly, walking back from the bin, staring at the ground, "My dog," he finally muttered, "He's in surgery right now."

Mike furrowed his brows, taken aback, "Your dog?"

The bully nodded, his hands trembling as he averted his gaze, "Listen. I know you and everyone think I'm a jerk or whatever, but..." he took a shaky breath, "I love my dog," his voice broke,

Mike felt sympathy despite everything that happened between them in the past, seeing Troy like this made it hard for him to hold on to anger or resentment right now. He couldn't help but feel for him. "I'm sorry... I'm sure it'll go well."

"I don't know what I'm going to do if something bad happens," Troy whispered, trying to keep himself together, "He's one of the only things I care about, and now..." he couldn't continue; there was only two things in this world he cared about, his sister and his dog.

Biting his lips, the ravenette was unsure of what to say; he'd never seen Troy like this before, like a lost lamb, "He's strong, right? He'll make it through. Dogs are tough."

He hadn't even realised but Troy began sniffling again, his eyes red and puffy once more, becoming slightly defensive; in a way he acted like Will. He was just more cocky and brutish with his words. "I don't need your pity, wheeler,"

"I don't 'pity' people," The tall boy said firm, "It's just... I know what it's like to feel like you're losing someone important," he said, remembering his own sister in the real world; Mike always tried to block out what really happened to Nancy, in his mind and to whoever asked, his sister left for Europe to pursue journalism- her dream. But in fact, she was attacked one night, landing in hospital... on a ventilator:

She didn't make it.

He couldn't continue his thought as Troy began speaking again, dropping his act, "Thanks... I guess."

"No problem. Just take care of yourself, okay? And lay off the smoking," Mike offered him a small smile, "And the motorcycle!" he added.

Troy looked down at the ground with a small grin, "Yeah, maybe," but before he could continue, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly pulled it out, his hands shaking as he read the notification,

"He's out of surgery," The bully whispered, staring at his phone screen as if it might change if he blinked, "I... I don't know if he's okay, what if he didn't make it?" his voice cracked again, the façade crumbling.

The ravenette clenched his fists, remembering a time when he felt just as scared; when Nancy had been hurt and rushed to the hospital in the real-world. He remembered the helplessness, the lonely feeling as he waited in the hospital, not showering or eating; no one came to see them, not even his parents. Back then, he wished someone had been there.

He sighed, "I'll go with you," Mike said, his voice soft.

Troy blinked, looking up from his phone in disbelief. "What? You don't have to-"

"It's okay, trust me," Mike replied, walking with Troy across the street in silence, the looming vet clinic growing closer. Troy's anxiety was reaching the roof, worried what the result of the operation was. When they finally entered the clinic, the receptionist smiled, kindly leading Troy to the back.

Mike followed, expecting to see a massive, tough looking dog given Troy's usual taste. But instead, they handed Troy a tiny chihuahua, trembling in his hands. The raven-haired boy was taken aback but said nothing. Troy looked at the dog like it was the most important thing in the world, and Mike felt a lump in his throat.

Finding a seat in the corner of the clinic, Troy carefully cradled the tiny pooch in his lap, the dog looking up at his owner with wide eyes, licking his face, clearly happy to be reunited, "He's okay!" the bully muttered to himself.

Mike took the seat next to him, glancing over, "I thought you'd have a bigger dog," he said light-heartedly.

Troy snorted, but not as rude as usual, "Yeah, well, Twinkie is my big doggy! Isn't that right Twinkie?" his focus solely on his dog.

"He looks a bit like Will," Mike spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Byers? How'd he smuggle himself into this conversation?" Troy chuckled, though this time, there was no malice when he spoke about the brunette.

"Why do you hate him?" Mike questioned, a question that was always on his mind.

Troy didn't look up, still petting Twinkie, "I don't hate him," he said clearly, shifting slightly in his seat, avoiding Mike's eyes, "It's not like I wake up thinking of ways to make his day worse... it was just a progression, I guess."

"What?"

"I don't know how to explain it; at first, he just bugged me out. He had so many admirers, people liked him, but he just didn't care! Like he thought he was better than them..." Troy sighed heavy, mumbling the next part, "Like he was better than me."

"What?" Mike whispered,

Troy rubbed the back of Twinkie's neck, soothing him, "It's not just the friend thing, you know? I'm not that petty. It's more than that! His mom cares about him; leaving him special lunches with handwritten notes, turning up to all his art events, and even picking him up when he is sick... I wanted that."

Mike furrowed his brows listening close, not realising the amount of resentment brewing inside of Troy, allowing him to continue venting.

"Not only does his mom love him, but mine does too. I think my mom cares more about Will than me. She even wanted him to model for her shoe brand; she only used me because Will refused. Every time she sees him, she'll make comments about how proud she is of him... never once has she said that to me."

Mike remained silent, feeling the weight of the words.

"But even then, I tried not to care... but the nail in the coffin was when Will applied to that art competition. It was supposed to be for my sister; she was so excited to apply. But somehow... somehow, Will ended up winning... and my mom said that Will deserved it more. My sister was crushed, and I couldn't take it anymore."

Troy clenched his jaw, his frustration evident; trying to keep himself in check, "The worst part is that Will wasn't even trying to make me feel bad, but everything he did just made me angrier. And my mom... she just kept rubbing it in."

The tall boy listened quietly, starting to understand most of what Troy meant. It wasn't about Will- it was about Troy's own inability to process his emotions; bullying was just a cry for help for something deeper.

"Look, I know I'm an asshole," the bully continued, his voice softer, "I realized I was just being an ass for no reason. I did some searching while Twinkie was sick, and it hit me - I was the problem, not him." He pet his dog softly, "Will's not a bad person when I think about it. Quiet? sure, but... not bad."

"And what are you going to do to make it right?" The ravenette questioned, sensing the genuine tone behind Troy's words; he was extending the olive branch.

"I want to apologise to him. I don't expect him to forgive me, but I can't keep this inside anymore. I need to apologise, even if he doesn't accept it."

Mike scanned Troy's face for any hint of aggression or malice, not finding it, "I'm not saying it's going to be easy..." he paused, "but I think you're doing the right thing; Will deserves closure... and so do you."

The ex-bully looked up at Mike, eyes filled with determination, "Thank you Mike, for all of this... genuinely," his smiled was filled with gratitude and with something else entirely.

"No problem," the ravenette said with a nod.

"He does look like Will, doesn't he?" Troy changed the subject, not wanting to vent any further; he held up Twinkie in his hands, like how one would carry a baby,

Mike smiled... maybe Troy really did change.

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3450 Words

The dog in the picture is so cute.

Stay Safe <3