Chapter Text
Will Byers learned very quickly that New York did not wait for you… and certainly did not notice you.
NYU was one of Will’s top picks for school, but he learned pretty early on not to get his hopes up with such expensive tuition. If it hadn’t been for Robin encouraging him to apply, and scrounging up her tip money from her new job for his application fee… he definitely would not be here. And even then, it had taken scholarships. Plural. Every single one he could find. The kind that didn’t leave room for mistakes.
It meant that being here wasn’t just exciting. It was terrifying. Because Will knew exactly what it cost to sit in this city, in this school, in this life. He knew how easily it could all disappear. But, the semester was just about to start and he needed to get his head in the game. Stop worrying about home so much… stop worrying about Jonathan and what he could be doing. Or his mom and how he was handling his leaving. Or El and how much he missed late night talks with her.
Or Mike… how he and Mike would have sleepovers all the time. Their sleepless nights. Their weekly arcade nights with the party. The movie nights at Steve’s house, when they’d share the same popcorn ball and he’d end up falling asleep halfway through the movie… fuck.
The one thing Will wanted by leaving home, was to forget this stupid lingering crush he had had on Mike since the day they met. Over the years, I will be normal. He would tell himself. But he was wrong. It had been over ten years and counting and Will still felt the same way he did when he saw Mike on the swings.
NYU wasn’t as bad as he had thought though. Sure, he really missed his friends and family– but he had made a few friends here too. Like his roommate, Ricky, who was from Tennessee and was a Business major. He decorated his side of the room with Polaroids and ticket stubs, all crooked and overlapping, like he didn’t care much for straight lines. He wore worn-in sneakers and old band tees. Will liked Ricky. He liked how effortless it felt to be around him, how Ricky never made a big deal out of Will’s quiet moments.
There was Ethan from Minnesota. A Film major who Will thought was way too cool to be friends with him. He wore old “grandpa” sweaters, had long curly hair, and constantly smoked cigarettes. He always carries a camera around with him, documenting everything– which is part of why Will liked him so much, he almost reminded him of Jonathan in a way.
Then there was Sarah, who sat a row ahead of him in his foundation art class and when they were told to talk to a partner on the first day of class, she had been the only one to turn around and talk to him. Unlike Ricky and Ethan, Sarah was from Brooklyn and basically knew the city like the back of her hand– dragging the boys to new places everyday.
And that’s how it went for three months. Classes, homework, hangout with friends, repeat. It was easy… simple. The only times it wasn’t simple, was when he thought about home and his friends or his mom. Which was more often than he’d like, but he did his best to push those thoughts away. Until the week before Thanksgiving break.
“So, are you going home for Thanksgiving?” Sarah asked one afternoon as they sat on the floor of Ricky and Will’s dorm room, Chinese takeout containers between them.
Will’s stomach dropped. “I don’t know,” he said automatically, eyes fixed on his sketchbook. He hadn’t planned to draw. He just needed something to hold. “Maybe.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “You say that every time we talk about breaks. You’re not scared to be alone, are you?”
Ricky, stretched out on his bed, he didn’t say anything, but he was watching Will now.
“I just… haven’t decided,” Will added, a little too quickly. The truth was messier. Home meant Hawkins. Hawkins meant memories he’d been trying very hard not to touch. It meant Jonathan asking too many careful questions. His mom pretending not to worry. El talking about everything except the things that mattered.
And it meant Mike.
Will hadn’t gone back since move-in weekend. Hadn’t called much, either. Only Joyce, who was calling him everyday until Will told her to stop being overbearing and that he needed space to be himself. And then Mike. He’d let weeks pass between calls. Then months. Mike had even started writing letters, in which Will responded to the first few, but eventually stopped when he realized it was doing more harm than good. He told himself it was distance, that this was what moving on looked like.
“Do you not want to go home?” Sarah asked.
Will swallowed. “It’s not that.” He shook his head.
“Then what?” Ethan sat up straight. “You’re just gonna sit here drawing all break?”
He didn’t know how to explain that home wasn’t a place– it was a person. One he had been orbiting since he was a kid. One he didn’t know how to unlove without tearing something important out of himself. One he had been avoiding for months.
Will only shrugged not wanting to elaborate more on this issue. Eventually, the topic had changed and Will sat quietly on his floor still drawing mindlessly until he realized he was drawing a hand. More importantly, Mike’s hand. A hand he hasn’t seen in months. He shut his book and tried to engage in his friends' conversation– but the image lingered in his head.
Eventually, once it was part 2am, Ethan and Sarah had gone back to their own dorms and Ricky and Will were left alone. He didn’t mentioned anything to Will about his awkwardness earlier, just offered a small smile before getting ready for bed.
Late that night, once Ricky had gone to bed, Will had done what he always does on nights like that. He rumaged through his drawer to the bottom, finding a few loose letters slightly crumpled from Mike. He turned the small light by his bed on and reread the letter sent, dated exactly a month ago, which was also the last letter received since Will stopped checking the mail.
Will,
Hawkins really isn't the same without you anymore. Everything is just so… lame. I mean, I guess it was before too, but at least you were here to make things better and more fun. I hope you can come down soon, I know you have probably been too busy to get to my letters with all those classes you are in so, I understand if it takes you a while to write back.
We haven't gotten the chance to really talk either. I’ve called a few times, but maybe I got the wrong number or you just weren’t home… but, I miss hanging out with you Will.
I know thanksgiving is just around the corner, I was wondering if you would be coming down? My mom is going to try this new ham recipe and I think you’d really like it.
El asks about you often. I told her you’ve been busy and still settling in, so just try and give her a call too if you have the time.
Robin also told me to tell you that she’s really proud of you. She says you’re doing great, even if it doesn’t feel like it. She also misses you.
I hope we can talk soon. And don’t forget about me. Just know, I'm only one call away.
- Mike
Will reread the short letter over and over again. He felt terrible. It wasn’t Mike’s fault that Will had some weird… crush on him. They were still friends, right? He folded the letter carefully, pressed it against his heart for a moment, and exhaled slowly before placing it inide his sketch book and into his drawer.
The next morning, Sarah was back in the dorm and working on assignments on their floor. Will hesitantly reached for the phone and finally dialed Joyce, who he had been avoiding phone calls for about a week now.
“Mom?” He asked carefully.
“Will! Hi, honey! I was just about to call you! I- um, are you calling about um– have you decided about Thanksgiving?”
Will swallowed hard. “Hey, Mom. Yeah… um… I think I’m going to stay here this year.” His voice sounded steadier than he felt.
There was a brief pause on the line. “Oh… okay. Are you sure? I thought maybe you’d want to come down for a few days.”
“I’m sure,” he said quickly, forcing a casual tone. “My friends are staying too, so… it’ll be fine.” He didn’t mention that no one was actually staying, that he had made up the story in his head just to feel less alone.
“Well, alright, sweetie,” Joyce said, her voice softening. “I just want you to be happy. But don’t forget to call your sister, okay? And maybe check in with Jonathan too, if you get a chance.”
“Yeah… I will,” Will said, trying to keep his nerves from showing. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, Will,” she said.
He hung up and set the receiver down, letting out a long, shaky breath. The room felt smaller now, quieter.
Then, from the corner of the room, a voice cut in softly. “Staying here, huh?” Ricky said from the bed, leaning back. “Guess that means you’re missing out on all the family drama.”
Will blinked. “Yeah… I guess.” He tried to sound casual, but there was a tightness in his chest.
“Wow, you’re really brave,” Sarah said, eyes flicking toward him. “I mean, staying alone in New York when everyone else is going home? That’s… ambitious.”
Ricky half laughed. “Ambitious or just… too scared to go back?”
“Well,” Will started, “You’ll be here, right Sarah?”
“I guess.” Sarah only shrugged. “I won’t be like on campus, but I’ll be in Brooklyn.”
Will only nodded.