The sound of music coming from a worn-down cassette tape is the only thing drowning out the steady hum of Eddie's van's engine.

With his head leaning against the cool glass of the window, he hums along to the music in a half-assed way while driving. He's tired, yet awake. Eddie's been driving to who-knows-where for the better part of the past twenty minutes— and he hasn’t told you a single thing. Just some glances and a couple smiles that could mean anything, or very little, in Eddie’s case.

The soft thrumming of whatever music was currently playing from the shitty stereo filling the van’s interior comes to an abrupt stop. You're not necessarily off-put by the silence, just... a bit thrown off. A glance out of the window into the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall has you wondering what the hell Eddie's about to do. A questioning look is all you can give him, here, out in the middle of Hawkins somewhere. The lights of the parking lot, coming from a few overhead street lamps, illuminate the cabin of the van just enough for you to see his features. He seems calm— almost too calm, if you squint.

"Oh, y'know—" He casually shrugs, as if there's a million different reasons that would explain why he's brought you here, to a desolate strip mall where no one—unless they’re up to some less than legal stuff— has any reason to be hanging out. He grins a bit. "Birthday present." Reaching into the center console, Eddie fishes around for something for a moment before pulling out a plastic store bag. Unceremoniously shoving the bag into your hands.

Relenting, you peek at its contents, a sigh leaving your lips when you realize the 'gift' he's gotten you. It's one of those muffins from the convenience store down the road, just sitting in the generic cellophane wrapping with a single birthday candle sticking crookedly from the top.

Tapping the dashboard of the van, he motions to the singular candle in the muffin with his chin, "Make a wish, birthday boy.”