𝘼𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩 [𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣]

[Billy's night out]

Cherry rushed after Robin, unsure what kind of nonsense her brother got himself into this time. As she approached, she found Billy stumbling around by the pool, shouting nonsensically into the night. Teens around laughed at him, Cherry quickly yanking his wrist, "Come on, we're going home," she said firmly, guiding him towards the car. Billy protested, his words slurred and defiant. "Noo... Fuck off, I'm... I'm fine," he mumbled, trying to shake off her grip. Cherry tightened her hold, a mixture of frustration and concern fueling her actions.

"You don't know what you are, Billy. You're drunk," she insisted, struggling to steer him towards the car as he resisted. As she finally managed to get him into the car, she glanced back at the party and spotted Robin on the driveway. With a wave, she called out, "I gotta go, sorry! Do you think you could tell that guy I'm sorry for running off?" Robin furrowed her brow, "What guy?" "The one from the kitchen," Cherry replied hastily, already getting into the driver's seat. As she drove away, Robin made her way to the kitchen and saw Steve Harrington standing alone inside.

Cherry couldn't have been talking about him. With his signature hairstyle and confident posture, Robin grimaced at him. In her eyes, Steve was just another womanizer in Hawkins, a popular guy who thrived on attention. "Maybe his parents didn't hug him enough as a kid?" She often thought. Plus, even if Cherry had been referring to Steve, Robin couldn't even imagine the pair together. They were too different; Cherry was just too nice for someone like him. With a shrug, Robin turned on her heels and headed back out into the party. One day Cherry would thank her for this. Right?

In Hawkins, all Steve Harrington seemed capable of was breaking hearts. Meanwhile, for Billy and his sister, the drive home was tense. The silence broken only by his occasional mumbling apologies. "You're just like him," Cherry finally blurted out, her voice trembling as she tried to keep her eyes on the road. "Like who?" Billy slurs. "Dad," she replies quietly, clearing her throat as she changed the subject, "I shouldn't have to babysit you." As Cherry navigated the streets towards home, she stole occasional sideways glances at her brother.

His normally stern features were softened by the darkness, the lines on his face not as prominent. "Cherry," Billy's voice cut through the silence, his words rough. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to ruin your night." Cherry glanced at him, surprised by his apology. She sighed, "It's not just about tonight, Billy," "It's about every night." He sighed, running a hand through his mullet. "I know, I know... I'm trying, okay?" "Well, you're not trying hard enough!" Cherry's voice rose, frustration bubbling over. "You're yelling at Max all the time, threatening to hit kids with your car—what's going on with you?"

Billy's expression darkened, shame clouding his features. "I don't know, Cher," he admitted, his voice low and strained. Cherry rolled her eyes, "Of course you don't, you never do," she retorted, her voice tinged with years of resentment. Despite being close, Billy wasn't always the easiest person to get along with. The car went quiet, Cherry feeling a pang of regret. Though Billy made bad choices, she couldn't help but feel bad for her brother. It's not like life at home helped with his behaviour. If anything, it's her father that made him like this.

"I'm sorry, Cherry," Billy's voice breaks through the silence, his words slurred but genuine. "I messed up," "Yeah, you did," she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with resignation. Billy nodded slowly, and for a moment, he felt like a boy again. As they approached home, Cherry exhaled a weary sigh, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Just get to bed, try not to wake anybody," she advised, her tone gentle yet firm. "Thanks, Cherry," Billy murmured, a hint of gratitude in his voice as he nodded slowly. Cherry pulled into the driveway, the soft glow of home beckoning them forward.

Billy nodded in understanding, his exhaustion evident as he trudges towards the house. Cherry followed closely behind, her steps heavy with the weight of the night's events. As she entered the house, Cherry made her way to her new bedroom. Pushing the door open with a soft creak, she found Max sleeping peacefully on their shared queen-size bed. A small smile tugged at Cherry's lips as she watched Max, her bad mood lifting. Her gaze drifted to the dresser, a familiar sight catching her eye – a stack of peanut butter cups with a post-it note bearing her name beneath them.

She read the note. "Cherry– My peace offering," Cherry's smile widened as she reads the note, a warmth spreading through her chest. With a final glance at Max, Cherry quietly got unready and slipped into bed, the events of the evening fading into the background. But as she lay there, the memory of the boy she'd met at the party crept into her thoughts. Steve Harrington. His confident smile and easy charm seemed to linger in the air, despite her attempts to push them away. Cherry found herself drifting into a daydream, her mind conjuring images of their brief interaction.

She imagined Steve's voice, low and reassuring, as he teased her gently about not drinking. She pictured the warmth of his hand as he brushed against hers in passing, a touch that sent shivers down her spine. Hell, she only met Steve Harrington once. She barely knew anything about the guy beyond his charming smile. For all she knew, he could be a real asshole. With a shake of her head, Cherry forced herself to focus on the present. She couldn't afford to get lost in fantasies about someone she barely knew.

Besides, she had more better things to worry about – like Billy or her father. With a soft sigh, Cherry shook her head, banishing the thoughts of Steve from her mind. He was just some guy from Hawkins, after all – charming, maybe, but not worth her time. As she drifted off to sleep, Cherry made a mental note to keep her thoughts grounded in reality. Steve Harrington might have made a good impression, but she knew better than to let herself get carried away by some good looking stranger. Okay, some very good looking stranger.