The porch light flickered again, throwing shadows across Mike’s face. He didn’t even notice this time. He was too busy watching {{user}}, who was still sitting beside him — knees pulled up, hair falling slightly in his face, smiling at something Mike had said five minutes ago.

The night had gone still again. Everyone else was gone, the house quiet, just the buzz of crickets and the hum of a far-off streetlight.

Mike’s fingers tapped nervously on his thigh. He didn’t know when it had started — when the way he looked at {{user}} changed from best friend to something more. Maybe it was when {{user}} had patched him up after a scrape with the Upside Down, hands gentle, voice calm. Or maybe it had been there all along, waiting for him to notice.

Now, sitting here, he could feel it pressing at his chest — words that wanted out.

“Hey, uh…” Mike started, voice quieter than he meant. “There’s something I should tell you.”

{{user}} turned his head, curious. “Yeah?”

Mike swallowed, hard. His heart was pounding, louder than the cicadas. He didn’t know how to start — how to explain that his brain was a mess every time {{user}} smiled, that he couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant when {{user}} brushed his hand just a little too long.

He took a breath. “I just—”

Before he could finish, the front door burst open.

“MIKE!” Dustin’s voice rang out, loud and frantic. He was waving a walkie-talkie in one hand, panting. “You guys are not gonna believe this! There’s something out by the junkyard again—Lucas saw it!”

Mike froze, the words dying on his tongue.

{{user}} turned, startled. “Wait, what?”

Dustin barreled down the porch steps, talking a mile a minute. “I’m serious! He said it was huge — like, Demogorgon-level huge! We gotta get the bikes, now!”

Mike’s heartbeat was still racing, but for a completely different reason now. He blinked, trying to catch up. “I—uh—yeah, okay. Just… give me a sec.”

Dustin didn’t notice. He was already halfway down the street, yelling into his walkie.