Archive of Our Own

School was starting soon, and Dustin Henderson could not be more excited.

He was going to high school! He was going to be a high school student!

Just like how Dustin had always looked up to Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin: thinking they were so cool, so grown up―that was how middle schoolers were going to see him now! He was going to be one of the cool kids! Like Steve!

Steve was, far and above, the coolest guy Dustin knew. He had the best hair, the best clothes, the effortless cool-guy confidence. Girls were obsessed with him. Guys wanted to be him. And on top of that, he was like a literal D&D hero with his bat! Nobody even knew it, but Steve was the kind of guy wo could beat actual monsters in a fight. He was brave, and strong and badass.

There seemed to be two kinds of people in the TV shows and movies Dustin grew up on. There were people who seemed lame and then ended out being cool in the end. And there were the people who seemed cool at first, but ended up being evil or unlikable in the end.

Steve was a rare breed. He was a guy who seemed cool, and then the more you got to know him, the cooler and cooler her became.

He was good at everything. He knew how to cook the most delicious meals in the world. Even better than Dustin’s mom! And he knew how to bake really good sweets. And he was surprisingly good at arcade games. And he was a good singer. And he apparently knew how to play the piano (even though he never played it for Dustin.)

Steve was mysterious, too, sometimes. Like with the piano. Dustin wouldn’t even have known Steve was good at it, if they hadn’t been grocery shopping together one day. (Dustin loved it when Steve brought him along to do little household errands like that. It made it feel like they were family. Like Steve was his brother or something.) Mrs. Wilder had seen Steve in one of the aisles, and immediately stopped to talk to him.

Old people loved Steve, for some reason. Everyone loved Steve, but old people did especially. Mrs. Wilder was one of those old ladies with a thousand cats who wore bright red lipstick that looked garish against her almost translucently pale skin. When she spoke, Dustin’s eyes always went to the brown spot in her teeth. He didn’t know why it was there, and he always ended up wondering about it when he ran into her. 

He was so distracted by staring at her teeth, he missed most of the beginning of their conversation. When he tuned back in, she was saying, “You simply must come by and play for us! We miss your performances!”

Performances? Dustin wondered, and Steve scratched his cheek, a tell that he was uncomfortable. “Thanks, Mrs. W. I’ve kind of dropped piano, though. I got too busy with other things.”

“That’s a crime!” Mrs. Wilder cried, as Dustin looked between them, eyes wide. Steve played the piano? “You’re too good to give it up!”

Steve laughed weakly. “Thanks.”

Steve didn’t like talking about the piano, but Dustin had gathered information subtly and also by pestering that he’d started when he was really little. His parents apparently made him practice a lot, and really liked it when he went to concerts and did really well there. So Steve had ended up doing quite a few amateur performances. Mrs. Wilder had seen him play back when he’d volunteered to play background music at the nursing home a couple times. He apparently had dropped it in sophomore year, and he hadn’t touched a piano since.

Steve wasn’t the type to be dramatic about anything or do any big gestures, but it seemed like he’d more or less taken a vow never to play the piano again. Maybe he’d never said it out loud, but the intent definitely seemed to be there.

Which was cool. It was like a tragic backstory or something.

Steve was the coolest guy in the world.

Steve was excited about Dustin becoming a high schooler, too. He kept talking it up. It sounded awesome. Way better than middle school. “In middle school, you have to sit with your homeroom class or whatever, right? In high school, you can sit wherever. So you can always sit with your friends, no matter what. And because of that, the cliques don’t really feel like they’re about popularity as much. It’s more like different friend groups. Not like a hierarchy or anything.”

Which sounded amazing, because there was definitely a hierarchy in the middle school. There were the big group of popular kids who sat in the very middle of the lunch table, and then the rest of the kids scattered around the edges. In sixth grade, Dustin had been able to sit next to Mike, and in eighth grade, he’d been able to be with Lucas, but seventh grade he’d had to sit on his own, and that was really boring. But now, he could sit next to Mike and Lucas every day!

“In middle school,” Steve explained, “People bully other kids a lot. Everyone’s really insecure, and don’t have a ton of social skills, so they’re always bullying everyone. In high school, though, it chills out. The only people who get bullied in high school are, like, the real weirdos. You’re going to be fine. Everyone’s going to love you.”

One day, Dustin said a joke that made Steve crack up. He didn’t even remember now what the joke was, but he remembered the way Steve had clutched his sides, wheezing with laughter. “You’re going to be, like, the class clown or something, man. The kids aren’t going to know what hit them. They’ll be like―’how is this kid so funny?’”

And Dustin believed Steve, because of course he would. Steve would never lie to him. They were best friends. Almost like brothers.

And Steve knew about high school better than anyone else. He was the King! Everybody worshiped him. So of course he knew what he was talking about. If Steve liked Dustin, than everyone else would too.

He was so excited!

_________

He was stupid, was what he was. His world came crashing down, day one.

It hadn’t just been one thing. If it was one thing, it might’ve been fine.

It was…it was making a joke about the periodic table in his first period class and listening to the utter silence that followed. The awkward tension that built until one of the other kids said, “Yo, what is he talking about?” And everyone laughed.

And Dustin just felt so stupid for even saying it. For opening his mouth. He felt his face heat, and he looked at the ground, trying not to make eye contact with the other kids. Obviously they wouldn’t think that joke was funny. He tried to give himself a pep talk, even thought he wanted to melt into the floor. It just went over their heads. They would think the next one was funny.

They’d be like Steve. They’d crack up into hysterical laughter, clutching their sides and wheezing because Dustin was just so funny and clever.

It would happen.

He’d get ‘em on the next joke.

It didn’t happen at all the whole day.

“Dude, just stop.” One of the kids had said in one of his later classes. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

So there was that. The discomfort and hot shame that sliced into his belly at that little comment. At the way everyone had laughed like they agreed.

_____________________

Lunchtime was worse, though. There were two different lunch periods assigned, apparently, so that the lunchroom didn’t get too full or so the lines wouldn’t be too long. So half the school was assigned to Lunch A during fifth period. And the other half were assigned to Lunch B during sixth period. The one you weren’t assigned to would be your study hall.

Mike and Lucas were both assigned to Lunch A. Dustin was stuck in Lunch B.

He hadn’t made any friends in the first half of his first day of classes, and so once he got his lunch tray, he just kind of looked out at the sea of kids, completely lost. Every group just seemed so caught up in doing their own thing. Dustin hesitated, wondering where he should go.

Steve had said it was important to put himself out there, though. Make new connections. Dustin could probably just sit anywhere, he figured. Get to know the people sitting there.

He picked out a table with what looked like a good group of kids. They were laughing and talking pretty loudly, and Dustin wondered what it could be about. Maybe it was fun.

They got silent as he sat on the edge of their group, offering a hello.

They table stayed awkward and a little silent for the rest of lunch. The group of kids didn’t introduce themselves. They just started whispering to each other, thinking he couldn’t hear.

He could still hear. He was sitting right next to them. They weren’t that quiet.

“Why is he sitting here?”

“I don’t know!”

“Ask him!”

“No!! I’m not gonna ask him, you ask him!”

They giggled, glancing over at Dustin like he was some strange animal. Dustin smiled amiably, not really knowing how to start a conversation. Eventually, one of the girls said hello.

“Oh, uh, I just thought you guys seemed cool. First day and all that. Meeting new people.” Dustin explained as soon as he got the opportunity. Was it weird that he was sitting here? He didn’t want to be weird.

The conversation was strange, too. Slightly stilted. Dustin talked about his classes, and the kids reacted nicely enough, but they just kept staring at each other. Like they wanted to say something but didn’t. “And your girlfriend is a what again?” One of the girls asked with a little giggle in her voice.

“A computer hacker! She’s like a genius. And the prettiest girl ever. She’s the best!”

“That’s so cute.” The girl answered, glancing rapidly over at her friend. There was something she wasn’t saying. Dustin wasn’t an idiot, he could tell that much. But he didn’t know what it was.

He didn’t sit with them again. He didn’t sit at any random tables again.

_______________

At the end of the day, he ran into Troy Walsh, who smiled at him meanly. “Watch where you’re going, freak.” Troy said.

He’d mostly kept away from Dustin and the other kids after that dramatic incident where El had made him wet his pants, but with every day that passed since, he got more and more bold. Now, he seemed to have forgotten all fear and was out for revenge. Dustin tried to ignore him.

“Hey, listen to me!” Troy shoved Dustin, making him trip forward onto his knees. A crowd began to form. Kids watched the interaction with interested eyes.

Nobody came forward to defend him. They just watched.

“You and your freak friends need to learn your place.” He’d kicked Dustin’s backpack. “You think you’re so cool, but you ain’t shit.”

It was…it was just Troy, who taunted him and kicked his bag, and began to pile on insult after insult, grabbing Dustin’s hair and smacking him around. But it felt like the entire crowd was involved, too, somehow. None of them told Troy he was going too far. None of them stood up for him. They just watched.

Like he wasn’t even worth saving.

Like he wasn’t even human.

And then Mike was there, physically grabbing Troy and slamming him onto the ground. “Get away from him, fuckface!” He yelled, before helping Dustin to his feet.

Dustin felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. After all those times of giving Steve shit about losing fights, Dustin had been worse. He hadn’t even fought back. He’d just frozen up. It hadn’t even occurred to him to fight back.

He was an embarrassment. Weak.

As he walked out of the building, there was one thought: heavy on his mind.

Steve could not now about this.

_____________

Things didn’t get better. At least, not at first.

Dustin tried everything he could think of. He tried talking with new people. He tried making jokes. He tried joining clubs.

He’d sit at lunch alone, feeling exposed. Nobody sat next to him. He would open a book and pretend to read, but his eyes would catch on everyone who walked past. His heart would pound. Maybe this person would sit with him. Maybe he would finally make a friend.

Nobody did.

It felt, sometimes, like everyone was watching him. Like the fact that he was too weird to make any friends was on full display.

His stomach twisted the entire lunch period. Every day.

____________

People liked Steve, right? They loved Steve. People still talked about him all the time, even though he’d graduated the year before. He’d overheard Jason talking to the jocks one time about ‘making Harrington proud’. Like the whole reason they needed to win their games was to somehow honor Steve’s legacy.

Girls talked about Steve all the time. Even in Dustin’s grade. Since Steve was at Family Video, tons of girls talked about how they would visit the store just to see him. They’d specifically plan movie nights where they’d get all dressed up and see who could get Steve’s number. It was crazy.

So maybe, if they knew that he and Steve were friends, they would like him too. They’d think ‘if Steve Harrington sees something in him, maybe he’s actually cool. Maybe I should give him a shot.’

Dustin told everyone he could about how Steve was his best friend. Made sure to casually bring it into any conversation he was in.

“Oh, yeah, Steve likes that too. He’s my friend, by the way. Steve Harrington. He says I’m his best friend.”

“One time Steve and I were having this light saber battle, and―yeah, Steve Harrington. He’s like my brother. He’s so cool.”

__________________________

The real problem was, Dustin could hear when people talked about him. They weren’t exactly quiet about it.

“Oh my gosh, yes!! It’s so embarrassing, like he really thinks we’re going to believe that Steve Harrington plays lightsaber battles with a freshman.”

“Like, at least make it believable.”

“I’m pretty sure he made up his girlfriend too. ‘Oh and she’s a genius computer hacker’ Like I’m pretty sure you just got that from a movie.”

“I literally think it’s the funniest thing ever. Sometimes I’ll just ask him questions to see how crazy the story’s gonna get.”

“Oh my God, you’re terrible!”

___________________________

Steve was worried about him. Dustin could tell. Steve wasn’t really all that subtle in how he fretted. But what was Dustin supposed to say? That he was a loser and all the kids hated him? What was Steve supposed to do about it?

Dustin couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t. Steve didn’t get it. He was easy popular. So popular he didn’t even have to try and people just laid down and worshiped him.

Because―because Steve was cool. Steve was smart, and he had good hair, and he was charming, and nice, and he had everything. Everything except for the brains. Steve happened to not be very book smart. He could be clueless sometimes, there was no one who could argue that.

And Dustin fit into that like a puzzle piece. He had the brains, and Steve had always made him feel special for that. Like it made him cool, too, just because he knew how to reverse engineer a radio.

But Steve had everything except the brains and Dustin? He only had the brains. He didn’t have the hair, or the looks, or the charm, or the personality, or the cool skills or even the bravery. He was just…

Awkward. Unlikeable. Weird looking.

“Oh my gosh his little teeth are so gross―”

“Like why does he look like that? It’s so weird―”

Steve just wouldn’t understand.

____________________

Mike tried to stick up for him, but even Mike was getting more friends than Dustin was. He’d shot up over the summer, and the girls had definitely noticed. They hung around him, cooing over his looks. He overheard one of them even inviting Mike to a party, one day.

“You can come, it’ll be fun! Just don’t bring Henderson, he’ll kill the vibe.” The girl had said. Her voice wasn’t even mean when she said it. Just matter of fact. Like of course Mike shouldn’t bring Dustin.

Dustin’s stomach had swooped, and he’d frozen there, hid behind the corner of the wall, wondering what Mike would say. How often Mike had said yes to something like that. Gone to a party with a bunch of kids and just not told Dustin about it? It made sense, he didn’t need to bring Dustin everywhere, but the betrayal stung in his gut.

“Fuck you.” Mike’s voice rang out, harsh and angry. “Dustin’s one of my best friends, and one of the funniest, most brilliant people I know. You wish you could be half as good as him. Fuck off.”

Ah. He’d been wrong. Dustin felt relieved. For a moment, his heart lightened and he felt happy. This was true friendship! But then he came crashing back down to Earth.

Because Mike could have friends, if it wasn’t for Dustin. He could be normal. He didn’t have to be bullied. Troy had been giving Mike shit ever since he’d stood up for Dustin, that first day of school. It was Dustin’s fault. If Mike just forgot about him, things could be better.

________________________

He was just on the edge of doing something drastic like cutting off Mike for his own good when salvation came. It came in the form of a metalhead super-senior named Eddie Munson.

The day he met Eddie, Dustin had cried. Not immediately, but when he’d been in his bed, late at night. All alone, he’d cried because finally he wasn’t alone anymore. There was someone who understood him. Someone who could relate to him.

Someone who heard he was in Lunch B all by himself and said, “Why don’t you just go to Lunch A instead? I guarantee you the teacher won’t care. Just say you want to do study hall in the library and then just come over here.”

Like it was so easy.

Eddie Munson was a godsend. He was like an angel in Dustin’s life.

It was fine. Things were going to be better now.

_______________________

They were better.

Eddie was awesome. He was so cool .

He was like the polar opposite of Steve, in all the best ways. Like they were yin and yang or something. Twin mirrors of each other.

Where Steve was rich, Eddie was poor. Which meant that Steve was the type to buy you all the nicest shit. But Eddie knew how to repair things. When Troy dumped ketchup all over Dustin’s new shoes, it was Eddie who brought out a bowl of bleach-filled water and a toothbrush and took the time to meticulously clean them with him until they looked brand new. 

Where Steve was a bit of a worrier, Eddie was totally free. “Let’s play DnD on the roof,” He’d suggested, just randomly out of the blue. “The weather is nice, and it’s not that hard to climb up there.”

Eddie’d picked the lock to the entrance, and they’d climbed up, feeling clandestine. It would become one of Dustin’s favorite memories. The way the sky had looked in the hazy autumn twilight. The way the wind had flung Gareth’s character sheet into the air at the most intense moment, making them all need to pause so he could retrieve it. The way Eddie’d almost fallen off as he’d climbed onto the ledge to demonstrate a dramatic scene.

Steve took ages on his hair, trying to make it look perfect. Eddie toweled it dry and let it go. Steve liked his coffee sweet, Eddie liked it black. Steve liked pop, Eddie liked metal. The list went on and on.

Most important, Eddie wasn’t popular. He was a freak. He hated the popular kids. Looked down on them like they were the ones who needed to impress him, not the other way around. He was awesome.

Eddie Munson was the best.

Being his friend didn’t mean the bullying stopped, though. Not totally.

_____________________________

“I just hate his voice. I hear it and I just get so annoyed.”

“Like we get it, you know everything. Can you shut up now?”

“He’s such a freak. I heard Dave Hammond saw him and Eddie Munson howling at the moon at some point. Like what the fuck even is that?”

“Oh my god, they’re such freaks!”

______________________________

Troy Walsh ripped up his D&D book and there wasn’t any hiding it from Steve. Even if Dustin had wanted to, Mike was fuming. He ranted about it as soon as they got into the car. Yelled about how he was going to make his mom call Troy’s mom and make her buy a new one.

Steve hadn’t said much―not that Mike would let him get a word in edgewise, anyways―but his eyes kept looking at Dustin through the rearview mirror.

Worried.

The next time Steve gave them a ride, he had a new D&D book in his hand, and a tape on top of it.

“What’s this?” Dustin asked, and Steve scratched the back of his head, looking bashful.

“Oh, it was just…I was going through my old tapes and I found a demo video one of my piano teachers had lent me. I listened to it and it seemed like, uh…something kind of fantasy-sounding? Like you could use it as background noise for your D&D game or something. I don’t know. You can throw it out if you want. I just thought it’d be nice.”

Dustin looked at it, curious. He wondered what it sounded like.

_____________________________

“Dustin, please. No more.” Eddie complained. He was sprawled out on the ground, arms wide. “It’s a cool song, but it’s you keep having to rewind the tape in the middle of combat and it’s distracting.”

“But it fits so well!” Dustin argued determinedly, placing the tape in the stereo.

“My campaign fits well with heavy metal! Not with some bullshit piano music.” Eddie muttered but there wasn’t a lot of weight behind it. The piano was intense. Whoever played it was an absolute genius on the keys. Their hands had to be flying, it moved so fast. The music swelled and quieted, flowing through different moods and emotions effortlessly.

It was Dustin’s favorite song in the world. And Steve had given it to him.

“It’s too much! We’ve heard it a thousand million times now!” Mike agreed with Eddie, because of course he did.

“Just one more time!”

___________________________

Sometimes, Dustin imagined what it would be like if the popular kids saw him with Steve. Nobody seemed to really pay attention to anyone in the mad dash of after-school, where everyone was just trying to get home as fast as they could. But maybe, if one of the popular kids saw it one day, they’d be impressed.

They’d finally believe that Dustin wasn’t lying about Steve being his friend. Maybe they’d understand that he’d never lied at all, not even once.

They’d be so shocked. He could picture their faces now.

Their jaws would drop. “Steve Harrington thinks he’s cool?” They’d think. “I was wrong about him all along.”

________________________

“Oh my God, he’s such a liar! He said that Steve Harrington drove him home from school, like―it’s so easy for us to prove that wrong, why would he even try to lie about that?”

“I don’t know why Wheeler puts up with him. Like, Wheeler might actually even be cool if he didn’t hang around such losers all the time.”

________________________

Eddie didn’t seem to like it very much when Dustin mentioned being friends with Steve. He always seemed to close off a bit, awkwardly changing the subject. Dustin didn’t really get it. Did he also think Dustin was lying about being Steve’s friend or something?

Jeff explained it, though.

“You know how Troy Walsh picks on you, more than any of the other kids? I’m pretty sure Steve was like that with Eddie.” He said.

Dustin immediately rejected the very idea. “Steve would never do that!”

“Sure, maybe not to his friends. I don’t think you really saw how he was to other people though. He was really mean.”

Dustin had heard Robin and Steve gossiping. He knew Steve could get mean, sometimes. Like when he laughed about how Tammy Thompson had mailed in a tape of her singing to about a dozen agencies and had been rejected from every one.

But he would never, ever be like Troy Walsh.

“Did you ever see it, though?” He demanded to know. Where was the proof?

“Not…during. Harrington was pretty subtle about stuff. Didn’t want to come across like a bad guy. But I remember back in my freshman year, seeing Eddie crying behind the bleachers. His hair was all messed up, and his face was bruised. It looked like someone had just beaten him up. I asked about it, and he said (and I quote) ‘Guess I stared a little too much at Steve Harrington. He thought it was creepy.’ I don’t really think he would lie about that.”

It had to be a lie, though. Or some kind of misunderstanding. Steve would never hurt anyone. Maybe he could say a mean thing or whatever, especially during his ‘asshole days’. But there was no way he beat him up.

_______________________________

“Hey, did you ever beat up Eddie Munson in school?” Dustin asked, unable to help himself.

Steve had just laughed. “If I got beaten by Jonathan Byers, do you really think I’m gonna be able to take Eddie Munson? ”

_______________________________

Dustin wondered, sometimes, though. Doubted.

What if Steve hadn’t done it directly? What if he’d just gotten Tommy to do his dirty work for him or something? Or he got a group together?

He hadn’t said no.

He slapped himself.

No way. Steve would never do that. Steve was a good person. He would absolutely never do anything as heinous as ganging up on Eddie and beating him up.

Never.

______________________________

The day finally came, one day. It was the beginning of November, and basketball season was just barely starting. And even though Lucas had gotten kind of distant lately (especially during school hours. Most kids didn’t even know they were friends), Dustin was still always going to support him.

So when Lucas said he was trying out, Dustin decided he would go and cheer him on. Even if it meant sitting on the bleachers for hours with basically nothing to do.

Steve brightened as soon as he heard about it. “You’re going?” He asked. “Let’s go together! It’ll be fun!”

Just like that.

Dustin buzzed with excitement. The entire week he could barely sleep. Revenge was going to be so sweet. All the kids would see him hanging out with Steve, and they’d see. They’d see how cool Dustin really was. How Steve did like him.

When the day came, everything went perfectly. Steve sat right next to him, and made jokes with him the entire time. Explained all the weird sports rules Dustin didn’t understand. Even did their secret handshake as soon as he saw him. It was perfect. Everyone could see they were friends!

___________________________

“Oh my gosh, it’s more pathetic than I thought. Were you at basketball tryouts?”

“No, tell me! What happened.”

“Steve Harrington was there with Henderson.”

“No way! He was telling the truth?”

“Well. I think he thinks Steve Harrington is his best friend. You could see it in the guys eyes, though, how annoying he found him.”

“No!”

“Yeah, I honestly felt so bad for him. Like, he obviously wanted to be far away from him, but Henderson just kept clinging on.”

Dustin couldn’t help the punched out sound of pain that pushed out of him, then. The kids who’d been speaking wheeled around, seeing Dustin standing there. They froze, staring at him. He felt the tears begin to form in his eyes. No. They could complain about him being a liar or a know-it-all all they wanted, but not this. Not This.

“Steve IS my best friend! And I’m his!! He said so himself! He called me his brother! He called me his brother!” Dustin cried out, but the other kids didn’t seem to even care.

They just blinked at him, not even bothering to apologize. They started shifting their glances between each other, like they wanted to laugh. Dustin didn’t have to stand here and listen to this shit. He’d fought literal monsters. He didn’t need to sit here and listen to a bunch of high school bullies who didn’t know anything tried to tell him what Steve thought of him.

As he stomped off, he could hear them erupt into giggles behind him.

“Oh my god, he’s literally psychotic!”

____________________________

“Hey Steve?” Dustin asked, unable to stop himself from doing it. Steve turned his whole body towards him, immediately catching the small, hurt tone in his voice.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Do you…do you like me? Or are you just faking it or something?”

“Dude!” Steve immediately drew him into a hug. “I love you! You’re like my little brother or something. I love you a lot.”

And Dustin had cuddled back into him and allowed himself to believe it. Those kids were full of shit. Steve and him were best friends.

__________________________

“He probably just feels bad for him. ‘Cause he’s like, disabled or whatever.”

__________________________

“Dustin can we please stop listening to this song over and over again. I’m sick of it. Eddie’s sick of it. Gareth’s sick of it. Jeff bafflingly still doesn’t seem to mind it. But it’s been too much! I’’ve heard it more than my own father’s voice at this point!”

__________________________

Steve took him out to get burritos one day. “This is kind of me and Max’s thing,” He admitted, “But she’s ignoring me right now and I want burritos, so you’re coming.”

Dustin had tagged along, of course. He always loved spending time with Steve.

Did Steve want to be spending his time with Max instead, though? Did he wish he could be somewhere else right now?

Dustin tried to throw the doubts away. No. Steve liked him. He saw Dustin as a brother. They were close as brothers, too. He needed to stop getting in his head.

“Hey, so. You know I’m not the most popular kid.” Dustin asked cautiously. It was the closest he’d gotten to admitting to Steve out loud that there was any kind of a problem. “Uh, do you have any tips? On how to get kids to like me?”

Steve watched him, clearly considering something. Dustin squirmed under the gaze, wondering what Steve saw when he looked at him. If he just saw some kind of pathetic disabled kid who didn’t even know how annoying he was.

No. Steve liked him. Steve didn’t care. It was fine.

“Do you want, like, the feel good answer or the real one?” Steve asked eventually.

“The real one.” Dustin answered right away. He needed brutal honesty right now. Needed to hear what Steve thought of him.

“Okay. Well.” Steve scooted in his chair, getting comfortable. His posture seemed a little excited. “This is actually something I’m really good at, you know? I know absolutely how to make people like you, it’s more simple than you think.”

Dustin wondered if Steve was waiting for this. For a chance to tell him how he could stop being annoying to everyone.

“Okay, step one is obviously to dress in style. I can bring you shopping with me if you want. But basically, it’s a really quick way for people to see you as part of their group. I’ve thought of it a lot, actually. Fashion isn’t just about self-expression bullshit. It’s about classifying yourself into a community. Like how metalheads dress. Sure they like the way it looks, but I bet even more they like being able to find people who are similar to them really easily. So if you wear clothes that are similar to other people, they’ll be less hostile to you immediately.”

So Steve didn’t like how he dressed. Okay.

“Step two is to observe a room before you fill the space. This is, like, a big thing for me. You have to figure out what people like and who they are before you try to just jump in and be yourself. You gotta get their…their energy, you know? And then you gotta kind of match it. Still be yourself! But if someone’s talking about how much they hate Reagan and you’re a fan. Just keep that to yourself around them. Otherwise it creates conflict.”

He thought Dustin was too much.

“When people are looking for a friend, or even an acquaintance, they very rarely are looking for someone who checks off all these boxes of how cool they are or whatever. Moreso, they’re just looking for someone who makes them feel good. Or cool or whatever. So you gotta put your effort into making other people feel special, and you’ll be good. Ask them questions about them. Build them up. Don’t get smart-alecky or anything, it makes people feel bad about themselves and then they get defensive.”

And there it was. He thought Dustin was a know-it-all. Annoying.

Just like everybody else.

__________________________

“He’s so annoying.”

__________________________

Going home, he looked at the little tape Steve had given him

“I’d just found it lying around, thought you’d like it.”

The tears began to fall as a new picture laid itself out before him. Steve mattered to him. He was the most important person in his whole goddamn life. But it didn’t go two ways.

It was like this stupid tape. Steve had given it as an afterthought. Didn’t even really think about it, probably. He would’ve thrown it away if the little thought hadn’t struck him that Dustin might like it.

But it meant everything to Dustin. He brought it everywhere with him. Played it on repeat every day. Like an idiot. He was sitting here worshiping Steve like some kind of idiot.

“As if Steve Harrington would ever look twice at a nerd like that.”

“I bet he feels bad for him.”

“Pathetic.”

Furious, distraught, angry; Dustin dropped the tape to the ground. Brought his foot up, and then crushed it under the sole of his shoe. Then threw it at the wall for good measure.

He hated this. He hated being pathetic. Always loving people way more than they loved him. Always the odd one out. Always begging people to like him, and nobody ever did. He was worthless. Unlovable. Annoying.

He collapsed to his bed, sobbing.

He was nothing but a loser.

__________________________

The morning brought with it clarity and regret.

What had he been thinking? Steve was just trying to be helpful. He knew Dustin was having a hard time winning people over, and he was being nice. He was giving him tips on how to be better, not telling him he was the scum of the earth!

And he’d ruined it. His favorite tape. It was destroyed. No fixing it, just crushed into a bent little shape, unable to be repaired. It wasn’t even the kind of thing he could buy again. It was a piano song Steve’s teacher had given him like half a decade ago or something.

It was gone, and there was no replacing it.

Steve would be so disappointed in him.

Why did he have to be so dramatic about everything? Why did he have to ruin things for himself. Steve had told him himself that they were best friends. And if Steve didn’t want to hang out with him he wouldn’t. Dustin was just sitting here ruining Steve’s gifts for no reason other than his own stupid insecurity.

He was the worst friend ever.

__________________________

He got paranoid. What if everyone was just annoyed with him? What if he was doing things in all of his relationships where people hated him and he just didn’t notice?

“What can I do to get people to like me?” He asked Eddie one day, swamped in the feeling.

Eddie brightened. They were in the D&D room, even though it wasn’t technically a day they were meeting for it. Eddie had wanted to think about notes for his campaign, and Dustin hadn’t wanted to go home quite yet. His mom always asked why he didn’t bring friends over anymore, and it was hard to tell her why.

“Oh, Dustin. Are you asking for a taste of the Munson Doctrine?” He asked, standing up. He pulled out the dusty chalkboard from the edge of the room, wheeling it over. “Is it finally time?”

Dustin blinked. It wasn’t the response he’d expected. Not by a longshot. Eddie seemed like he’d been waiting for this very moment.

“Okay, Step FUCKING one!” Eddie scrawled a big star on the board. “There’s not a single fucking thing wrong with you!” He circled the star a couple times.

“Huh? But―”

“No. This is step one, dude. We can’t get any farther if we don’t start with this one. You’re perfect. Amazing. Hilarious. Clever. Never fucking change.” He jabbed at the star again.

Dustin couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped him. Eddie was telling the truth. It was clear from his animated flailing. He really thought Dustin was cool. Maybe almost as cool as Dustin thought Eddie was.

“Okay, step two―People are stupid! They don’t deserve you. The closer the approximation to money, the stupider they get. Got that?”

“But Steve’s rich, and he’s not―”

“I get it, I get it. He’s your best friend or whatever. But Harrington is just as guilty as the rest of these bourgeoisie fuckers. But that’s for another time.” Eddie drew a triangle on the board. “We gotta learn the caste system first.”

“The caste system?” Dustin sat up in his seat. It looked like Eddie might be able to teach him something new.

“Look, Henderson. Here’s the thing. You see people as people, right? That’s one of the many things that makes you so cool. But the rest of these shit-for-brains assholes? They don’t. They see people as classes. It’s the medieval thing all over again. You got your classic categories. The royalty, the warriors, the clergy, the artisans, and the peasants.”

He split up the triangle into a couple sections, labeling royalty at the top, and peasants at the bottom. “And then there’s us. The Untouchables.”

He drew a little sliver of a line at the very bottom to mark where they stood. “All of these things are based on bullshit factors beyond our control, but I got good news for you Henderson. You don’t have to be an Untouchable like me. You’ve got a chance over here at a better life. All you gotta know is the people to pander to.”

Eddie drew “Royalty” big on the board. “The thing about the caste system is that you’re not allowed to talk to anyone too far above your spot in the social hierarchy. Otherwise you offend not only them, but everyone around them. Like, if a peasant shook a king’s hand. The kind might or might not be angry with it. But everyone around is going to be fuming. ‘How dare they dirty his hand!’ They’ll say. The peasant’ll get curb-stomped in a matter of minutes. So, even if the royalty are perfectly nice, you gotta avoid them like the plague.”

“You want me to avoid Steve.”

Eddie sighed, leaning back and putting his hands in his pockets. “Look, Henderson. I don’t like to rain on your parade, so I don’t really say much. But I was actually in high school with Harrington, and I think I got a pretty good grasp on what he’s like. He’s the classic stuck up ruler type. Kinda passive. He’s not going to do anything directly, but he’s not going to be shaking any peasants’ hands anytime soon. He knows his place on the ladder.”

“He doesn’t―”

“We’re not going to go there fully, though. We can agree to disagree on Harrington’s supposed niceness. But look at the people around him. Every kid in school hears that you, a freak, are friends with the King? It makes them angry. They’re jealous of you, and they don’t think it’s fair, and they want to push you back down to your status. So they’re curb-stomping you. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve even gone to bat for you a bunch of times. You saw me with Troy. If you want people to get off your case, though, you’re gonna have to stop talking about Harrington. That’s the first big thing.”

Dustin nodded. He could do that. He could stay friends with Steve and just not talk about him to the kids in school. It seemed reasonable enough.

“Anyways, anyone you talk to, you’re unconsciously saying you feel like you guys are on the same level. So you gotta choose people who aren’t going to be offended that you think you guys are the same, got it? So let’s explain the castes.”

“Obviously, the warriors are the jocks. Just avoid them at all costs. Lucas is the only free pass there. The artisans are the art and theater kids. If you talk about stuff they’re into, they’ll be chill with you. They’re close enough to the bottom that they usually don’t care about status too much, and their art and interests win out over any social bullshit. They’re a pretty good bet. Peasants are a little bit of a wildcard. It’s just the general everyone who doesn’t fit elsewhere on the totem pole. Some of them have massive inferiority complexes, so just watch out for them”

Dustin noticed he’d skipped one.

“Then we’re talking about the clergy. This isn’t the religious kids or anything. This is the big factor of the school of it all. If the school is a kingdom, then the grades are the religion. The Clergy are our classic honor-society nerds. Just like in the big churches, though, there’s a hierarchy there. There’s kids like Nancy Wheeler who operate at the very top. Good grades, good social skills. Almost royalty herself. Then there’s the lower totem-pole nerds. Ones who don’t have social skills, or don’t have the best grades. Those are your sweet spot.”

“Is that where you fit in?” Dustin asked, getting eager to learn.

“Nah, it’s too late for me. Honor society kids hate poor kids, it’s just a thing. I honestly think they see anyone who lives in a trailer as like…a brigand who’s going to rob their lunch money or something. Plus, I got held back for the first time a while ago, so. Yeah. They don’t like me very much. But you’re actually smart! In the school kind of way and the real way. So they’ll like you for sure. You get in a study group with some of these bad boys, and you’ll be set.”

“I don’t want to be their friend if they don’t like you, though.” Dustin said, and Eddie rolled his eyes, flopping down onto a chair.

“You and Mike gotta get rid of your misplaced loyalty. You can be friends with people who don’t like your friends. It’s fine.”

They talked for a little while, and Eddie explained the system a little bit more―outlining who was allowed to date who, how dynamics have shifted over time, clues you could use to determine which caste someone was in. Dustin listened, riveted.

“So would Robin be an artisan, then? Because she’s a theater kid?”

“Oh, who, Buckley? Nah. She’s good enough in school that I’d put her kind of closer to clergy. There’s a rumor going around that she’s dating Harrington, though, which brings her up a little bit more, too.”

“I keep telling him to date her, but he won’t!” Dustin complained, excited to talk about one of his favorite topics. “They would be perfect together!”

Eddie chuckled. “Nah, Buckley isn’t Harrington’s type. My bet’s on her having a crush on him, and him not liking her back.”

“What do you think Steve’s type is?” Dustin squinted at the other guy. Maybe he could offer some perspective, because Dustin would never get why the two weren’t together. They were perfect for each other!

Eddie pulled out a notebook, mumbling as he flipped through it excitedly. Eventually, he found the right page and slammed it down. “There.” He said, and Dustin peered at what was written.

It was a series of girls names, with a little stat block next to each of them. The stats weren’t the classic ones from D&D, though. Instead, there was written, Beauty, Smarts, Interest, Kindness, and Racoon.

“Why does it say racoon? And why does that one have two scores next to it?” Dustin asked, and Eddie laughed.

“It’s this wild card factor, It’s short for ‘Both their ability and propensity to wrangle a racoon.’ As you can see, it’s a really important factor.”

Eddie took back the stats, looking at them. “So, basically, he’ll pretty much go on a date with anyone. But whether he will keep going out with them is a totally different thing altogether. It seems from the data, though, his favorites are girls who score high on Beauty, Smarts, and Racoon, but low on either Kindness or Interest. With Nancy Wheeler’s Racoon factor being a little bit of an unknown variable, because I personally feel like while she would probably be able to wrangle a racoon, I doubt she would seek it out.”

“Would any girl seek it out?” Dustin couldn’t help himself from asking.

“Oh, well. Robin’s definitely one who’s high on desire to wrangle a Racoon, but she scores low on being able to succeed in wrangling the racoon. Which is, by my observations, important to Harrington. Actually, I think if she was mean enough to him initially, he might even get tricked into thinking she was his type for a second? She’s got the beauty and smarts down, but she’s too nice by a longshot. And, as I said before, could not successfully wrangle a Racoon. So. She’s out if he ever finds that out.”

Dustin couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the serious way Eddie talked about it. Like he was the expert in some kind of scientific field of study. “Why are you making charts about Steve’s type, anyways?”

Eddie very carefully closed the notebook. “I just thought it was weird, at first, that he was dating Wheeler. Call it academic curiosity. Kind of spiraled a bit.”

He grinned at Dustin, ruffling his hair. “How are you feeling, though, better? You look like you’re in a bit of a better mood.”

Dustin grinned back. “I do. I think I was just really in my head about things. I guess…it feels a little bit more like I can navigate it a bit more.”

“High school is brutal.” Eddie said emphatically. “It doesn’t mean anything about you if you’re having a hard time, you know? Pretty much everyone struggles.”

“Not Steve.” His voice was quiet. It felt almost like a betrayal to admit it.

Eddie just drew him in for a side hug. “King Steve is cut from a different cloth than the rest of us.”

________________________________

Eddie was angry when he got on the table the next day. His speech was more intense. “All of you act like you’re made better by the clothes you wear, or by how cruel you can be! But what you don’t realize is that being a terrible person doesn’t prove that you’re better than us! It just proves that you’re worse!”

Dustin looked up at him, with his hair in waves around his face, with his leather jacket, and ragged T-shirt and thick-soled combat boots worn by time. Watched the way he so boldly faced the student body, eyes gleaming bright against the disdain of the masses. He didn’t care who stood against him. Who made fun of him. He was fearless.

“You’re not an Untouchable.” Dustin whispered in awe as Eddie returned to his seat. “You’re a Warlord.”

Eddie grinned at him, looking interested. He leaned in. “Tell me more about that.”

“Eddie the Banished. Born an Untouchable, but he doesn’t let it defeat him. He turns it into anger and―and determination to change. He amasses a small but loyal band of warriors and together they stand up against the kingdom in rebellion!”

“Hm.” Eddie said thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll add that to my next campaign.”