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Ceraunophile

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Billy was having The Dream again. A playroom behind a door with a star on it. A boy with raven black hair and green eyes like emeralds. He was young, maybe eight or so but much taller than Billy- how old was Billy? It's just the two of them, Billy and the boy. The door opened, big men in white uniforms stand on each side of the doorway as a tall man in a grey suit with hair white as snow stepped into the room.

Billy woke with a start to someone pounding on his door.

"Wake up, Asshole." His stepsister, and constant pain in his ass, Max was shouting through the door. "We're going to be late, get up!"

"I'm up, you shitbird, leave me alone." Billy shouted back, sitting up to throw his pillow at the door. He flopped back onto his bed with a drawn out groan. His family had only moved to Hawkins, Indiana two days ago and he already hated it here. Honestly he hated it before they even got here. He missed California already. Missed the shining sun, the beach, and the ocean. Missed the big city and it's never ending movement and noise, missed his friends, his could of been more than friends. He missed his mom. He hated this stupid, shitty, little ass fucking town.

He took his time getting ready, going a lot more bolder than his normal look. He knew it would get him stares and whispers and gawking. There probably hadn't been a new kid in this town for years and here he was the new kid with a penchant for dangling earrings and eyeliner. They all probably had some stupid, overtly religious bullshit ideology like his dad. His hands twitched at the thought of his dad. God, he wanted to punch Neil Hargrove in the face so bad but he knew that would just end with him getting his ass beat again.

"Finally!" Max grumbled sarcastically as he made his way out to his Camaro, she was already sitting in the passenger seat.

"Shut the fuck up." Billy hissed back as he got in.

 

He sped into the parking lot of Hawkins High School, music blaring, and parked haphazardly across two or three parking spaces. He got out, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground and crushing it. He turned to Max as she got out.

"Don't be late." He warned.

"Yeah, yeah." She muttered in reply.

"I'm serious, you little shitbird." Billy hissed. "You better be here on time."

"Okay, you curly haired bastard!" She snapped back. He growled lowly, a scathing retort on the tip of his tongue but she dropped her skateboard and skated towards the middle school.

"Fucking redheaded bitch." He grumbled to himself. He turned to lean back against his car, watching the other students. He caught the eyes of several girls, flashed them a smile that promised the dirtiest of things with practiced ease. He noticed the few jocks who glared at him, not liking that their girlfriends were probably paying attention to him instead. Then he noticed him.

He was across the parking lot standing in front of the driver's side of a dark red BMW. Tall, pale skin, broad shoulders, strong jawline, brown hair, doe eyes, and a preppy look. His lips looked full and plush. A pretty boy to a T. He was probably loaded. A petite girl with shoulder length brown hair was getting out of the passenger side. Billy cocked his head, watching the other boy for minute before turning to make his way in to the school.

 

He held it in until about lunch time, a rowdy group of jocks- basketball players- had invited them to their table. He saw the boy with the hair out in the hallway and finally let his curiosity win out.

"Who's he?" He asked the guy across from him, nodding his head towards the other boy.

"That's Steve. Steve Harrington." The guy, his name might of been Peter...Billy couldn’t remember, answered. "He's on the team too, he's a senior though."

"He pretty popular?" Billy questioned.

"He used to be." Possibly Peter replied. "He's been real different since last year. He used to be keg king and all that but now he dates the Wheeler girl and pretty much keeps to himself." Billy hummed noncommittally, turning back to his plate of food. Harrington sure was pretty though. Billy wondered what he would look like flushed red from anger or maybe...maybe not from anger.

The school and classes were just as drab and boring as everything else in Hawkins. Billy got in pretty quickly and easily with the popular kids, they were all desperate to be friends with the good looking boy from California. It was easy to play the role he knew best. He got into his first fight of the school year on his second day, beating mercilessly on a football player who thought Billy was trying to steal his girl. It's not Billy's fault she was a cheating slut, he was just playing his part.

By the third day of school everyone realized exactly what kind of guy Billy Hargrove was.

 

Steve watched as Billy pushed a sophomore into a locker, getting in the younger boy's face to hiss insults and threats. Billy had only been at the school for a week and had already made a name for himself. People like Tommy, Carol, and Nicole flocked to him, people like Jonathan tried to avoid him, people like Nancy loathed the very ground he walked on. Watching Billy made Steve sick to his stomach more often than not. Had Steve really been like that just last year? Had Steve really hung around shallow people like Tommy, Carol, and Nicole and thought they were his friends?

During gym class they played basketball, Steve's team (shirts) against Billy's team (skins), and Steve was good but Billy was better. Billy not only seemed to take it serious but also seemed to see it as a chance to tease Steve as much as possible. It was during this game, when Steve and Billy had collided into each other and crashed to the floor that he saw it. Something he'd only ever seen of similar fashion before on Eleven. It was there on the inside of Billy's left wrist like a tattoo.

005.