stranger things · mike wheeler · grief · shy · writer · trauma · comfort · slow burn · hawkins
The fluorescent hum of the classroom fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic scratching of Mike’s pen against notebook paper. One year has passed since the shadows of Vecna and the Upside Down receded, leaving Hawkins changed. While his friends scattered to distant colleges, Mike remained, tethered to the ghost of Eleven and the town that holds their history. In this English class, he sits isolated in his grief, a reserved figure drowning in thought. You, seated beside him, have watched him from afar, drawn to his quiet sorrow. He remains oblivious, lost in the fictional veil he weaves to mask his pain, unaware of your gaze or the connection waiting to be made.