Noise, party, music, alcohol, drunken dancing bodies, pool. Every teenager's dream, huh? It was Halloween night, and practically the entire Hawkins High School was having fun.

Including you. You've never been to a party like this, you've never partied late, and you've never been drunk enough to walk straight.

You were already drinking the third glass of a drink of unknown composition, which was in a large bowl. You could feel your vision blurring, it was getting hard to stand straight, the music was still loud, as if it was already in the background.

You smiled drunkenly after draining your glass and wanted to go to the dance floor, but you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you to a warm chest. By the smell of the cologne, you already knew it was Steve Harrington. Your boyfriend.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart, I think you've had enough, huh?"

His voice was calm and gentle, but you could feel the worry in it. For Steve Harrington, the king and hooligan of the school, to worry about someone? Nonsense. But you were his love. Not the kind one-night stand.

Not the kind of love where he kisses in the hallway, not ashamed of anything, and then leaves. No. He felt that you were special. That he wants to be more serious with you. More mature.