Hopper flicked his lighter, bringing the cigarette to life before taking a long drag. He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting over the line of townsfolk who'd shown up to volunteer for the Will Byers search. For a moment, he just… stared. Lost somewhere between exhaustion and worry.
His hand suddenly felt heavier.
He frowned.
Then he turned his head—
"HOLY mother of Jesus—!"
Chandler Bing stood way too close, leaning forward like he'd been trying to sniff Hopper's soul. Worse—he was casually taking a drag from Hopper's cigarette, lips puckered like he was mocking a fish.
Chandler blew the smoke out in an exaggerated puff.
"Today is giving me… rainy day vibes."
Hopper clutched his chest, glaring. "I swear to God, Bing—do that again, and I'll put a hole through your head big enough to serve soup out of."
Chandler shrugged and held out his hand expectantly.
Hopper grumbled, pulled out the pack, and slapped a fresh cigarette into Chandler's palm. Then he tossed him the lighter.
"So," Chandler said as he lit up, voice shifting into something more grounded, "any leads?"
"None," Hopper muttered, taking the lighter back. "My bet? Kids with his father."
"Monica mentioned that." Chandler's tone dropped—humour fading. "But we can't ignore the other possibility. The kid might actually be lost."
Hopper nodded tightly. "Exactly why I called the search party."
Chandler took a slow drag, eyes following the volunteers as they prepared.
For once, neither man cracked a joke.
The evening suddenly felt heavier than the smoke hanging between them.
🂴 Evan's POV 🂴
I had just squeezed toothpaste onto my brush when my walkie-talkie crackled to life on the counter.
"Evan, it's Mike. Do you copy, over?"
Static.
Then again—more urgent this time:
"Evan, it's Mike. Do you copy, over?"
I grabbed the walkie, sighing. "Yeah, I'm here. Over."
"We have to go find Will. Over."
I paused mid-brush.
"Chief told us to stay home," I said, spitting into the sink. "Over."
"Lucas and Dustin are coming over. Over."
…He knew exactly what he was doing.
He knew I wouldn't sit still if the others were out there.
He played me like a fiddle, and honestly? It worked.
I clicked the button.
"Fine. Pack up. Over."
Then I cut the line before he could gloat.
I threw together a small bag—raincoat, flashlight, extra batteries. Then I went to my nightstand and slid open the top drawer. Many deck of cards were neatly arranged, from which I took two.
One I opened and flicked into a clean, satisfying spring shuffle.
My fingers knew the motion like muscle memory from another lifetime.
I holstered the deck into the strap on my belt—just in case.
The other went into my backpack.
Then I unlatched my window, pushed it open, and swung a leg over the sill.
"Here we go," I muttered—and jumped into the night.
🂵 Third POV 🂵
Monica stirred awake at the sound of a dull thud outside her bedroom door.
Her sleepy expression sharpened instantly—mom mode switching on with terrifying speed.
Something about that sound was familiar.
Too familiar.
She sat up straight, frowning toward the hallway.
"…Evan Bing," she whispered, danger in her voice, "you better not be doing what I think you're doing."
🂶Evan'sPOV🂶
Hmm, somehow I feel a chill down my spine. Must be just a feeling.
-------------------------------------
So, how are you guys liking it so far?
If you're enjoying it, please leave some reviews, comments, longer thoughts or paragraph comments, and don't forget to send some power stones.
If you're not enjoying it, let me know where I can improve—and still send me some stones.
P.S.: The MC won't interfere with the main plot until chapter 14.
----------------------------------------
Number of Chapters in P@treon: 12
[email protected]/Micheal210
Read now