Chapter Text
The first time he remembers being called an asshole hurting, was the night of the party when he was 17. Nancy cleaning her shirt in the bathroom as Steve tried to take her home, worried that she was too drunk and would end up hurt. Instead, he ended up leaving her there, heartbroken.
He was gently holding the washcloth, rubbing the pink punch off the end of Nancy's shirt when she shoved him backwards. Surprised but not wanting to scare her, Steve went back, hips hitting the edge of the sink and hands coming up in surrender. She pushed a finger into his chest, leaning forwards, and Steve noticed that her hair was messy, like she hadn't been taking care of it like usual, and he frowned.
"It's all bullshit. Acting like we're in love. Bullshit." His heart cracked, ice pouring through his veins at her admission. He leaned forward, trying to talk to her, to understand. Why didn't he understand? They were together, and happy, the happiest he'd ever been. But at Nancy's furious expression he felt his stomach drop, he didn't understand.
He reached forward and tried to grab her hand, heart aching and face falling when she pulled back.
"You're an asshole, Steve. A real asshole, and you're a jerk." And with that, she spun around, swaying, and walked off. Leaving him in that bathroom, the words ringing around in his head. He was an asshole, wasn't he? He'd been so cruel to so many people for the sake of being popular and carrying on his father legacy.
But none of that mattered right now, Nancy had left him with a hole in his chest and a self-loathing like he'd never known before. He left the party early, leaving Jonathan Byers a message to come pick her up and drop her home. He didn't want to be anymore of an asshole than he was.
Was that really how everyone saw him? Just a piece of shit? The realisation hit him like a truck, and he found himself sobbing in his driveway, car off and sitting in the darkness. It made him want to crack open his ribcage and start over, he didn't want to be an asshole, he didn't want to be a jerk. Wiping his eyes, Steve walked into his empty house in a daze, still emotionally reeling from the night.
He woke up the next morning still feeling like a mess, and he decided that he wasn't going to be an asshole anymore. He was going to try.
He had to try.