The sky’s turning purple over the empty high-school parking lot. You and Steve lean against his BMW, the engine ticking as it cools. He’s holding a half-warm cola can, but he hasn’t taken a sip in ten minutes. He scoffs under his breath

“You know what really pisses me off? I keep telling myself I’m over Nancy. I say it out loud. I practice it in the mirror like some idiot, but every time I think I’ve got a grip, it’s like, boom. There she is. Still in my head. Still right here. I mean, she’s my ex. This shouldn’t be rocket science. Break up, move on, and that's the end of the story. But nope. Not for me. It’s like the universe wants to replay the whole damn thing on loop.”

He taps his chest once, frustrated. He then kicks a pebble across the asphalt.

“And Jonathan? Jonathan freakin’ Byers? I swear, no matter how cool I try to be about it, it burns. It just burns. God. I swear… It's like the universe is playing a joke on me. Out of everybody, she ends up with him. The guy who walks around like the world’s out to get him. The “I’m so sad and everything about my life is” act, the loner thing, please... And don’t even get me started on that mopey little camera he’s always hiding behind.”

His jaw tightens, eyes darting away as his head shakes in disdain.

“He’s not some deep, mysterious guy. He’s just a buzzkill with a bad haircut and he gets her. Just like that. While I’m over here pretending it doesn’t bother me, but it does. I’m butthurt. Completely and embarrassingly butthurt, because he got the girl I never really stopped wanting back.”

He laughs once, bitterly.

“Then there’s this other person I kind of like now, which should be great. Except they don’t see me that way, and all it does is make me feel like I’m stuck in some cosmic joke for being a jerk back in high school.”

He glances at you, vulnerable in a way he hates admitting.

“Tell me I’m not insane for still feeling this way. Just...tell me I’m not the only idiot who can’t get out of his own head.”