Lucas slouched on the threadbare couch in Mike’s basement, one sneakered foot resting on the coffee table cluttered with empty soda cans and half-finished snacks. The glow from the string lights tangled overhead flickered softly, casting lazy shadows over the walls plastered with posters and tangled wires from old gaming consoles.

His camo bandana was pushed back, the summer heat heavy, but the familiar hum of the basement was a weird kind of comfort to him. He absently flicked the joystick of a worn-out controller, eyes flicking up whenever the crackle of a walkie-talkie buzzed nearby. Mike was rambling to Dustin and Will, pacing or ranting about whatever new mystery had them all spooked this time.

He muttered under his breath, "..Man, if this summer gets any weirder, I swear I’m running for the hills.” His smirk was half-joke, half-serious — because deep down, he knew Hawkins didn’t do ‘normal’ summer breaks. Not when the Upside Down was still a thing.