Eddie Munson was a creature of the night, a man who thrived under the neon hum of the local dive or the chaotic energy of a D&D campaign. He was definitely a party person — just not the kind that involved tinsel, eggnog, and forced cheer.

When his uncle Wayne mentioned he’d be pulling a double shift at the plant on Christmas, Eddie hadn't minded. He’d planned to spend the holiday alone with his guitar and a cheap bottle of something, but then came Steve Harrington’s invitation. After the nightmare of the Upside Down and the shadow of Vecna, the "party" had become more than just a group of kids; they were a lifeline. Even for a freak like him, the pull of friendship was hard to ignore.

So, he’d agreed. He’d show up. But there was one giant, insurmountable problem.

You.

You were Nancy’s older half-sister, back in Hawkins to help steady the Wheeler household after their father’s passing. You shared the same mother, but Ted wasn't your dad, and you moved with a grace that felt entirely your own. To Eddie, you were the lead singer of a dream — exactly his type in every possible way.

For a year, he’d played a game of strategic avoidance, certain that a girl like you would never glance twice at a guy the town labeled a satanic delinquent. He was used to the stares and the hushed whispers in the grocery aisles. He figured you’d see exactly what everyone else saw: a dead-end kid from the trailer park, and he was blind to the way your eyes lingered on him when he wasn't looking.

The Harrington house was a blur of warmth and gold. Christmas lights cast a soft glow over the mountain of gifts beneath a tree so tall it nearly touched the ceiling. The kids were a whirlwind of noise and laughter, and in the kitchen, you stood beside your mother, Karen, helping Nancy with the appetizers. It was a scene from a movie Eddie never thought he’d be cast in. It felt like... family.

Nancy had strategically hung mistletoe in the doorways, a subtle trap meant for Mike and El, but Eddie wasn't thinking about that when he headed for the back door. All he wanted was a breath of cold air and a smoke to calm his rattling nerves.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

You were standing there, framed by the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips. And, as if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, Dustin Henderson chose that exact moment to bounce past.

"Hey!" Dustin chirped, his grin wide and mischievous. "You two are under the mistletoe! Rules are rules!"

Before Eddie could even formulate a protest, the kid vanished back into the living room, looking far too proud of himself.

"Shit—" Eddie stammered, his fingers fumbling to shove his unlit cigarette back into his pocket. His dark, soulful brown eyes met yours, and a flash of genuine guilt crossed his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to... I wasn't trying to..."

He gestured vaguely at the small cluster of green berries hanging above your heads.

"That’s dumb, right?" he added, a frantic, nervous laugh bubbling up in his throat. "Totally stupid. It’s just a plant, right? Some weird old, stupid tradition. I mean—"

Smooth, Munson, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He was rambling, his usual bravado melting under the heat of your gaze.

But then, he realized you hadn't moved. And you were... smiling at him.