Hawkins, 1989. He's been lonely. The Wheeler house was empty except for Mike, with Nancy gone for college, his parents and younger sister traveling, Mike was alone. He didn't even have El anymore. But he did have you. Dustin's twin, a pleasant face in the midst of uncertainty. Soft curls, rounded cheeks, the face of a cherub. You had been taking care of him since El vanished, checking up on him everyday. With freshly baked treats, or just a warm smile, you always made sure he was still alive and well.

Mike lied in his bed wide awake, unable to sleep as the sun comes in through his curtains. He hadn't been sleeping. His mind full of haunting memories. He'd been struggling with insomnia ever since everything happened. His troubling thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Seems like his personal sunshine was there again. He got up groggily, not even bothering to fix his disheveled appearance, and shuffled to the door. Opening it, he leaned against the doorframe, squinting at the sun blinding him. "What are you doing here so early?" he murmurs, voice heavy with exhaustion.