bestfeature | open rp post.

[ from HERE ]

[ look she even does him a solid and waits until 30 minutes later before she's snagging the keys to her mom's car and coming to get him. it'll be fine. she'll pick him up, get him home, and maybe when he wakes up tomorrow he won't even remember texting her. maybe he'll think robin got him. or like- anybody but her. anything that won't complicate things more. somehow.

she just needs to make sure he's safe.

god, hawkins parties suck so bad.

she sighs when she cuts the ignition across the street from the party, and there's people on the front lawn but none of them are steve, and that means

that means she needs to venture into the loud, crowded party. it's fine. find steve, get out. simple. easy. especially because she knows there's been a cinnamon incident. she finds him in the kitchen, covered in cinnamon, wow, and glaring at his phone like it's massively betrayed him. they don't call her nancy drew for nothing. ]

Hey. [ she's doing her best to look stern without going full babysitter on him or anything, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. ] --I know, I know, I'm the worst, but I needed to make sure you were okay. C'mon, I'm parked out front.

[ It wasn't even a good party, that's the worst part about it. He'd only gone because Cindy had stopped by Family Video a few nights ago and practically begged him to show up. And what the hell, he used to like parties, right? This wouldn't be any different.

Except he wasn't the Steve who liked partying and mindlessly drinking anymore, and a small part of him actually didn't hate that fact. Later, he'll wish the rest of him had listened and ignored any and all urges he had to try and fit in by showing off.

He's already regretting it, of course. The cinnamon is . . . they're not going to talk about it, okay. And his attempts to get Robin to bail him out backfire spectacularly — Nancy, seriously? Wheeler and Buckley weren't even close on his contacts list, what the hell. Was the entire night conspiring against him or something?

By the time Nancy appears in the kitchen — where did she even come from, shit — he stares up at her blankly and lets out a soft groan. ]

— I told you I'd text— Robin.

[ Which he did. Seventeen times already. ]

I know. [ her voice is a little softer that time, at least, trying to be less stern about it. he's not fighting her, but he's also... not making any moves to actually follow her out ] But it looks like she's busy, and you need to get home, so. [ so this is nancy wheeler, holding her hands out for steve to take so she can pull him up onto his feet.

which of course is when they gain some attention from some shirtless guy with a forty taped to one of his hands. a true class-act. she recognizes him from phys ed, but he sure as hell isn't in any of her honors classes. ]

When did you get here, Wheeler? And why don't you have a drink in your hand? Somebody get the lady a drink! More of that jungle juice you love so much, maybe?

[ she hasn't been to a party like this since last halloween, but apparently some people don't forget about that kind of thing. great. cool. ]

I'm good, actually. Steve and I were just leaving.

Harrington again? Seriously? You just don't know when to quit, do you?

It's really not like that-

No? Hell yeah- stick around, then, and maybe it can be like that with me.

You're joking, right?

The only joke here is your little boyfriend.

Okay, you need to back off.

[ because nancy is very quickly going from "humor this guy until we can get out" to "need to punch this guy in the face", and it's probably written all over her expression ]

[ People can talk shit on him all they want; it doesn't really bother him, even now. But giving Nancy hell, after she came out here to help him? Really rankles. Steve manages to steady himself, eying the other guy — what was his name, Bruce? Adam? whatever — flatly.

He's not going to swing a punch; it's less because it hasn't worked out for him in the past and more that he's just now mostly healed from the Russians. He'd like to go at least one week without a split lip. ]

Hey, thought we all said we'd— you know, keep the pipe dreams to ourselves. Guy like you only wishes Nancy Wheeler'd give him the time of day, you know?

[ At that, Steve nods over his shoulder at the cinnamon. ]

'Sides. Your turn.

[ He'll know what that means. Probably.

Steve nudges at Nancy's side before glancing off towards the exit. ]

[ thanks, annoying guy - at least steve's done being bummed out that it's her there to pick him up and not somebody else. well, for now. steve nudges her and she loops her arm through his, mostly for the sake of not losing him because it really is a crowded party, and heads towards the exit. the bottom of her keds are sticky by the time she's walking out the front door, but it's fine. not going to think about whatever was spilled all over the floor of the whole house. not her problem.

her problem, she realizes once they get to the car, is that steve's got cinnamon in his hair, and on his shirt, and pants. ]

Do me a favor? Brush the cinnamon off your jeans. [ she reaches out to brush off both of his shoulders, makes quick worth of getting some of it off of his shirt, too. just his chest. she reaches up to shake some out of his hair, but hesitates. puts her hands down again. ] ... And out your hair. [ because that feels too familiar, ruffling steve's hair up. even if there'd be a purpose to it- yeah, no. ] It smells good, but my mom might have some questions if there's cinnamon all over the car.

— oh, yeah.

[ He lifts a hand and swipes at his hair, brushing the cinnamon out of it before working his way down to his pants. Eventually, he just gives up and shakes his head, trying to shake out the rest of it. ]

. . . I'll have to hose this off or— something. Tomorrow.

[ it shouldn't amuse her enough to make her laugh, but she does, just this little one. she pulls her keys out of her pocket, looping around to the driver side to open the door ]

Hose what off? You can just throw your clothes in the washing machine when you get home. It's not like you spilled beer on yourself or anything. And I'm pretty sure a shower will do the trick for your hair. But- seriously, it smells really good, a total non-kegger party smell. You'll be fine.

-- Ready to go?

[ No, he is absolutely not ready to leave this party with Nancy Wheeler carting his drunk ass back home. And yet, he knows he's in no condition to drive and like hell she's leaving him, so really, the fastest way to end this is to just agree and get it over with.

Which. Fine. But he doesn't have to like it. ]

Yeah, yeah . . .

[ He groans at that, stumbling towards the passenger's side. ]

[ steve's bad at hiding things when he's completely sober, so right now all of that uncomfortable energy is coming off of him in waves. and she wants to try and make it better, maybe, say the right thing to try and make this less... whatever it is, but maybe trying ot make it better would make it worse.

she doesn't actually get any enjoyment out of seeing steve look like someone told him he needs to retake a math test.

once they're both in the car ( after a moment of nancy considering trying to help him with the car door before he finally manages it on his own, oh my god ), nancy gets the key in the ignition, but ends up looking at him for a second before actually starting the car ]

You're not allowed to sit up front with me if you're just going to be pouty the whole time. I'll make you sit in the back like I do with Mike when he's being a brat. Don't think I won't.

I could— sit in the back . . . ?

[ It takes a moment for this novel concept to process with him.

and then, he reaches for the door. ]

No, oh my god, Steve.

[ she reaches for his arm, nothing too grabby, but an obvious stay gesture ]

I was just saying- I'd appreciate it if you stopped looking at me like I, personally made you go to this shitty party. [ a beat ] Maybe it wasn't shitty, I shouldn't assume that a destroyed living room means it was a shitty party. But still. Maybe it's a good thing you texted me, since Robin's ..unavailable.

You just- You've got that pout on your face that I can't handle.

[ He stops moving when she places a hand on his arm, glancing over at her quietly. His brows furrow as she speaks, because— god, processing anything right now is hard as hell. Pouting? Is he pouting? He wasn't happy about her coming to pick him up, so. Probably. Shit.

Steve sighs, slumping in the seat as he closes his eyes. ]

Nah. It was a shitty party. [ a beat. ] Anyway, it's— come on, it's my face.

Yes, your pouting face. But alright, alright.

[ she reaches behind them after a moment, presenting him with a worn hawkins high water bottle. one she used to use for cheer practice. ]

Drink that. All of it.

[ she finally turns the car on once he takes it, headlights making people hanging out on the front lawn flinch and grumble. it even earns her a middle finger from one girl. it's fine - some neighbor is going to get sick of them being loud out there anyway, and then they'll call the cops, and the party will be over. joke's on them, or... whatever. she pulls away slowly, heading back the way she came. she's... 99% sure she knows how to get to steve's house from here, and worst comes to worst, she'll head home until she recognizes the way to steve's no problem. ]

So... I didn't know you were friends with Chloe. Or- Whoever's house that was. [ cool, now it's obvious that's not what she meant. not concerned with whose party it was, but just... that he was there. not that it's her business, she knows that, but ] I didn't know you still liked going to parties.

[ It takes him a moment to really grasp what Nancy's holding out to him but once he does, Steve takes the water bottle and sips at it. To his credit, he isn't spilling water all over the place, at least.

He pauses at her question — comment? — about the party, lips hovering above the rim of the bottle briefly before he distracts himself with another sip. ]

Cindy.

[ It's a murmured correction, because— whatever, right? Who cares whose house it is? Just another shitty Hawkins party with a bunch of shitty people that he had zero intention of seeing again after this weekend had passed.

He lowers the water bottle, head lolling back just a bit as his gaze drifts towards her. ]

S'funny, Nance. There's a lot you don't know about me.

Cindy. [ she bites her lip, because she can see out of the corner of her eye that he's looking at her, but she keeps her eyes on the road. fingers drum on the steering wheel lightly. she could put the music on, but it's her mom's ridiculous station, and she knows if she changes it she'll know she took the car, so- no music. ] Right, I know that. A lot's changed.

[ she huffs a sigh, stopping a little too long at a stop sign because man, all of these rich neighborhoods all look the same, hers included, and it's a little hard to keep track of where she came from? but she knows. yeah. she makes a right because that's the correct direction ]

For a while I used to think I knew more about you than anybody else. The real you, y'know? And... now I don't, I guess.

Yeah, you knew I was bullshit.

[ The word is slurred, almost drawn out, but there's no real punch to it. He's bullshit, they were bullshit, and it was all bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. It was funny, really, how one word could have so much meaning and yet, none at all at the same time. And, of all things, it had to be a stupid word like that one.

A bit of a smirk plays at his face, like he's amused that he's the one saying it this time. ]

Some things never change. [ At that, he takes a swig of the water.] And maybe— maybe I like parties.

[ He doesn't. They always leave him feeling empty inside. This one was no different. ]

That's not true.

[ the worst part, of many worst parts, of all of that? is that nancy still can't remember a damn thing from that night.

she remembers loud music, and being proud of their costumes that nobody really got, and laughing at steve over her solo cup while he bopped around to bad pop music with her, because he knew that it would make her laugh. she remembers having a few moments of sadness over the fact that they were at this party, and she could hear barb in her head telling her that this wasn't her, this isn't really her scene. she remembers trying so hard to do what she thought was best for steve, and maybe for herself too, like maybe if they could just get a little drunk and pretend to be normal for a night, maybe they wouldn't feel so sad? she remembers thinking eventually, maybe, she'd get up the nerve to just tell him she wasn't happy with the way they were handling everything, but after the party, in private, somewhere quiet and not here.

she remembers that damn jungle juice. ]

I never thought you were bullshit. I thought- the way we were playing pretend was bullshit. You were trying so hard to pretend things were okay. That we both were. That was bullshit. [ she doesn't sound all that heated or anything, she knows this isn't the time for an actual, real discussion on this. but- honestly, she doesn't think steve would ever give her the chance to hash this out. so. maybe it is the time. sort of. in a small way. ] I was so tired of pretending. Weren't you?

That's me, that's always me— fake.

[ Until recently, anyway, but old habits died hard. Not that he was in any state to really consider thinking about that any deeper than that, though. ]

I thought that . . . for one more night, we could escape or— or something.

[ there's a you're not she almost voices, but then he adds more and- they can come back to that, okay, she will be coming back to that ]

I thought so, too. I really did. I didn't actually- plan on saying whatever it was I said that night. That things were bullshit. I wanted to let it go for a night. But- then I got really drunk. Too drunk. And stupid. [ a beat ] You're not fake. I don't blame you for wanting to pretend things were okay back then, it just- I couldn't do it. And I should have just told you that. [ she huffs ] I guess I was pretending, too.

Yeah.

[ He agrees almost too readily. ]

I know. Pretending things were fine. [ Quietly, he taps at the side of the water bottle as his gaze drifts back towards the window, at the blurs that pass by outside. ] Pretending you still loved me.

[ It's not a fair thing to say. Even when he's the most shitfaced he's been in years — excluding the Russians, of course — he knows that it's an incredibly unfair statement. But it's true and apparently, he's speaking the truth tonight, so. Whatever. ]

Steve, I-

[ there's, y'know. there's stuff she's kept to herself. stuff she doesn't really know how to voice. it's this weird feeling of regret, and sadness, and definitely confusion. a hundred other things. and it's not fair of her to take advantage of the fact that he's this drunk to put out this kind of honesty, but it's better than keeping it locked up, right? she can be selfish. everyone in this car knows that. plus, maybe if she gets it all out now, it'll be too much information too fast and he won't even follow. but at least she'll have said it. yeah. selfish. ]

I really was in love with you. I know you're not going to believe that, but it's the truth. But- I also wasn't happy, not really, at the time. I needed something different to help me figure out why I was still so sad, and I didn't know if we could be that, and I was so scared to tell you because I didn't want to hurt you, or hurt us. And I really didn't want you to think I was just another person who wanted you to be something you weren't. [ a beat ] So, I tried to do things your way. And I guess- I guess I resented you for it. It was easier than admitting how much I was hurting.

[ He doesn't respond for the longest time, staring out the window all while she speaks, as though he's maybe absorbing every word in stony silence. Occasionally, there's the slightest reaction from him — a hitch in his breath here, a flinch there &mdsah; but otherwise, he's still.

Once she finishes, he stays quiet, his fingers curling slightly against his knee.

And then, he murmurs: ] — bullshit.

[ He tips his head forward, resting it against the passenger's side window. ]

[ it makes her laugh, at least. a sudden bubble of sound to break the tension, before she locks it up again, brow furrowing up ]

Yeah. [ it was, what, almost a year ago now? halloween is only a few months away. has she really been holding onto all of that for that long? ] I guess it is.

[ and this is nancy, slowing the car on a really dark road because she maybe... lost track of where she was going. just a tiny bit. she knows this road, she knows that house right over there, but where... damnit.

no, it's cool, she's got this. they're definitely not just shy of lost.

... she can always turn and go back the way she came. no big deal. ]

[ He eyes the scenery quietly, not turning to look back at her. He can't, really, because even in his haze, it still hurts too much. Damn. Drinking never did him any favors, clearly.

But even then, it's obvious to him what's going on. ]

Don't tell me you're lost . . .

What? No.

[ it's one of those very suspicious wh-hut? no!s that she will never admit to having. she is, however, making a k-turn to go back the way she came, hah. ]

I just made one wrong turn, don't worry about it.

tfln > action

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