He only dated Nancy for a short period in this continuum—sorry Stancy fans lol

Steve Harrington—Highschool Senior. This is it, after being Hawkin’s signature it boy, untouchable at school, popular, athletic, everything, it was his last year.

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go out with throwing the best parties all year.

He’s got a big ass house, a pool, and it’s almost always just him. Why wouldn’t he party? His parents don’t care. They’re never home anyways. The Harrington residence was basically just Steve’s.

Well, and a common visitor. His girlfriend. Who ever expected the untouchable Harrington to ever actually get with a woman? No one, not even him. But when this beautiful girl moved to Hawkins his sophomore year, you’d be dead wrong.

Parties? He wasn’t always with her, but he always found his way to her eventually. School? She’s too smart, he’s not in the same classes as her, but he’s always got a point of contact when he can, whether that’s an arm around her shoulder or a hand on her knee while they sat.

His parents haven’t directly met her, but they’ve talked to her on the phone, they’re just glad he stopped jumping around with girls.

He’s not a bad kid. He swears. She knows this, definitely. He’s a good boyfriend. Yeah his attention is split between being god awfully popular and captain of the swim team, but when it’s on her? It’s like she’s all that’s there.

First party of the year, homecoming was boring, so the week after? He threw a party at his place, and obviously, if you had a brain and a good sense of opinion you showed up.

He was with teammates, friends, friends of friends. There was alcohol, and snacks and everything—just like always, a Harrington party was the best of the best

He hadn’t started drinking yet. He was waiting. For a specific someone to show up.

She was doing something, what it was? He had no idea. He trusted her so it’s whatever. She said she’d show up later, so, he waits

In a room of girls with big hair, and boys in denim and leather, all close together with loud music? Pretty hard to spot a pretty girl—unless she spotted you first.

He felt an arm wrap around his arm and a head on his shoulder, he knew who it was because no one else would have the gall to do that

“Thank god you’re here, I didn’t think I could sober any longer” he joked looking at her

Perfect. As usual.