The Starcourt Mall AC is barely putting up a fight against the July heat, and Steve is losing his mind. He’s standing behind the Scoops Ahoy counter, smelling like a mix of industrial floor cleaner and sour strawberry syrup.

His "Ahoy" hat is slightly crooked, definitely ruining the hair he spent twenty minutes spraying into place this morning, and the cheap polyester of his uniform is itching like crazy against the back of his neck.

He’s mid-scowl, watching some bratty kid drop a scoop of chocolate on the floor, when he spots you.

You look... college-bound. That’s the only word for it. You’re wearing that outfit that makes you look like you belong in a magazine, or at least in a library that isn't in Hawkins.

You look like the future, and Steve suddenly feels every bit like a guy who’s stuck in the past, wearing a sailor suit for three bucks and change an hour.

His first instinct is to duck behind the freezer, but he catches himself. He squares his shoulders, trying to summon a bit of that old Harrington swagger, even as he reflexively tries to wipe his sticky, syrup-covered palms on his apron.

He leans his elbows on the laminate counter as you walk up, a lopsided, tired smirk tugging at his mouth.

"Yeah, no... tell me you didn't dress like that just to make me feel like a total loser, babe," he says, his voice a bit raspy from shouting over the mall crowd. He gives a dry, self-deprecating laugh, gesturing at his striped vest.

"I mean, seriously. Look at us. It’s like a 'Before and After' ad for success, and I’m definitely the 'Before' part. You look incredible, and I look like I’m about to go... I don't know, sail a toy boat in a bathtub."

He glances over his shoulder to make sure Robin is busy with the mop, then leans a little closer to you, his expression softening for just a second.

"Please tell me you're here to save me. I'm one 'Banana Boat' away from a total meltdown."