Love That Came Too Late

Mike Wheeler never could have imagined that his calm, safe life would be shattered by a girl with strawberry-scented lipstick and a laugh that rang like chiming bells.

Notes:

Inspired by I'd Rather Be With You by Mileveninheaven

Before the final episode of Season 5 was released, I saw countless tweets claiming that Mike would cheat on El by having an affair with Will and what was even funnier was that they genuinely believed it (I honestly don’t know where they got the confidence to believe in that delusion). And of course, a delusion is still just a delusion. At some point, it occurred to me: if they can write fanfiction about El being cheated on by her boyfriend and stepbrother, then why shouldn’t I be able to do the opposite?

I’ve read two fanfics with this theme. In both of them, El is still a kind, gentle girl but my El is different. Even if she’s cruel, mean, or anything else dark and unpleasant, I still love her (so consider this your warning: my El is not an innocent, lovable girl). If you don’t like this theme, please don’t read.

English is not my native language, so there will be many mistakes, please point them out so I can fix them. I’m also not American, so I won’t be able to perfectly capture the atmosphere of an American high school in this story.

Chapter 1: A Safe Life

Chapter Text

Mike Wheeler grew up in a perfect house that was always clean and orderly, a model American family with a father as the breadwinner and a mother as a homemaker. His father left for work early in the morning, came home when it was already dark, collapsed wearily onto the recliner, and the television was always turned up too loud. His mother was attentive and proper, caring in the form of familiar questions: How was school today? before returning to the kitchen and household chores. In that spacious house, there were no arguments, but there were also no warm hugs or gentle words of comfort. Everything passed by smoothly and dully, as if everyone was simply trying to play their role.

Mike learned very early that emotions were not something that needed to be spoken aloud. He did not know how to say them, did not know how to share his feelings without making himself look like a fool, and he was not sure anyone truly wanted to hear about his sadness or his happiness. His father, Ted Wheeler, always busy with work to support a family of five, never had time to spare for him.

His mother, Karen Wheeler, was a good mother. She always prepared everything carefully for every member of the family. Ted’s clothes were neatly pressed, Nancy’s floral dresses carried the scent of lavender, Mike’s lunches were always delicious, and Holly had her warm cups of milk. This family could be so perfect because of her. Being a homemaker was already an overwhelmingly busy job, and having three children meant that Karen could not divide her limited time evenly among all of them. She usually spent the most time with Holly, the youngest child, the one who needed her attention the most. As for Nancy, the eldest daughter, Karen often gave her words of encouragement and support, because she saw a reflection of her younger self in her firstborn, the enthusiasm, the courage, and the sense of responsibility.

And then there was Mike, the middle child, her well behaved, academically gifted son, the one she worried about the least among the three. Mike did not have Nancy’s recklessness. He possessed a clear sense of steadiness and certainty. Mike was the safest child in the family, obedient, polite, well mannered, causing no trouble. A good boy. An ordinary boy. The kind of child who did not require much attention and could still be assumed to be fine.

Mike’s life was like an autumn lake, calm and still, peaceful yet boring.

Will Byers was Mike’s first friend.

They met in kindergarten, on a morning whose details Mike had forgotten, remembering only that Will was sitting alone on a swing in the schoolyard, his head lowered as he stared at the damp grass beneath his feet. Mike walked up to him and asked a very simple question: Do you want to be friends? Will looked up, nodded, and from that moment on, everything seemed predetermined.

They grew up together. Riding their bikes all over town, playing Dungeons and Dragons in Mike’s basement, doing homework at Will’s kitchen table, eating far too much chocolate they begged for on Halloween. When Dustin and Lucas moved to town and joined the group, Mike still always knew that Will was his closest friend. The one who understood him best. The one he talked to the most when everything became confusing.

Mike did not often talk much about himself. But with Will, it was different. Will knew how to listen with complete attention, as if everything Mike said truly mattered. Will did not judge, nor did he pity him. Will simply listened and offered advice that helped ease Mike’s worries. Will was a very good friend, but there were still things about Mike that would never change. He still could not speak openly about his feelings to anyone, not even to Will.

And Mike, even if he did not realize it right away, had grown accustomed to that.

In eighth grade, Will’s father left.

That night, the rain poured relentlessly, the wind howled outside the windows, and thunder roared in the distance. Mike was jolted awake by urgent knocking at the door. When he opened it, Will was standing there, soaked through, his eyes red and swollen, his whole body trembling, whether from the cold or from something else Mike did not have time to think about. Mike did not ask anything. He simply pulled Will inside, closed the door, and led him upstairs to his room.

Will cried for a long time. Mike sat beside him, his back against the bedframe, letting Will bury his face into his shoulder. He did not know what to say, so he only wrapped his arms tightly around Will’s shoulders as they shook uncontrollably, as if letting go would cause Will to completely fall apart.

After a while, when his breathing finally steadied, Will looked up at Mike, his eyes blurred with tears. He stayed silent for a long time, then took a deep breath, as if gathering every ounce of courage he had before speaking.

“Mike…” his voice trembled. “I think… I’m not normal.”

Mike tightened his hold slightly, but did not interrupt.

“I… I don’t like girls,” Will continued, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I tried to think that I did, that everything would be fine, but it isn’t.”

The room was so quiet that Mike could hear both of them breathing.

Will swallowed hard.

“The person I like… is you.”

Mike did not speak right away.

He sat there, his hand still resting on Will’s back, but his mind was blank. The words hung in the air, as if he had not yet fully grasped their meaning.

“You…” Mike began, then stopped, swallowing. “What do you mean… by like?”

Will gave a soft laugh, a crooked smile.

“The way people like girls.”

Mike frowned, not out of discomfort, but confusion.

“I… I’ve never thought about that.”

Will nodded, as if he had expected that answer.

“I know. I don’t want to be this way either. But I can’t change it.”

He took a deep breath.

“I hate this feeling, Mike. I hate that I’m not like everyone else. Sometimes I think… maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

Mike felt his chest tighten.

“No,” he said immediately. “I don’t think so.”

Will looked up at him, his eyes full of uncertainty.

“You don’t think I’m weird?”

Mike was silent for a few seconds. He truly did not know how to answer properly. He had never thought about liking boys or girls. There had never been words for a feeling like this. But there was one thing he knew with absolute clarity.

“I don’t see you as a freak,” Mike said, his voice steady. “I just see… you as Will.”

Will blinked.

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.” Mike nodded, as if it were obvious. “And I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong.”

Will lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly.

“But what if people find out?”

Mike did not answer right away. He wrapped his arms around Will more tightly, resting his chin against his friend’s messy hair.

“No matter what happens,” Mike said slowly, each word deliberate, as if he were reminding himself as much as Will, “I’ll still be here. With you.”

Will nodded faintly in his arms.

“Really?”

“Really,” Mike replied. “I promise.”

Will looked up at Mike. Neither of them said anything more. They sat very close together, closer than Mike had realized. The distance between them seemed to shrink naturally, as if it had never existed in the first place. He could not remember who leaned in first, only that neither of them pulled away.

Everything happened very fast, and yet very slowly. Mike only managed to realize that Will’s lips had touched his. It was an awkward kiss, not passionate either. Just a quiet moment, like a butterfly landing on a rose, gentle and soft, yet leaving behind an unmistakable mark, one that Mike’s mind could not dismiss as imagination.

Mike stayed where he was, his heart pounding in his chest, his thoughts completely blank. He was not sure how he felt. He only knew that he did not want to pull away.

After that night, they never spoke about the kiss again.

Life went on. School, homework, games, long afternoons in the basement. But Mike knew, even though neither he nor Will said anything, that something had changed.

That change happened quietly, without any explicit confirmation like “Will you be my boyfriend.” Everything unfolded as if it had always been meant to be that way. The change lay in very small things, so small that if one did not pay attention, it would seem as though everything was the same as before.

Mike and Will still went to school together. Still sat next to each other in class whenever they could. Still rode their bikes side by side along familiar roads. But Will began waiting longer for Mike at the school gate. And Mike, without understanding why, always walked a little faster whenever he saw Will standing there waiting.

Will touched him more than before. Not always holding hands. Sometimes it was just a light tug on Mike’s sleeve when he wanted to say something. Sometimes it was leaning his shoulder against Mike’s when they sat together on the bed, pretending to look at an old comic book. Mike did not pull away, nor did he think much about it. He simply stayed still.

Will started sitting closer to him. When they talked, Will often leaned in, shoulder brushing against shoulder. Will’s hair brushed against Mike’s neck, Mike’s T shirts began appearing in Will’s closet, and Will’s drawings took up most of the wall space in Mike’s bedroom.

Kisses appeared naturally, as if they were the most ordinary thing in the world. No one asked first. Will usually leaned in slowly, giving Mike plenty of time to refuse. Mike never did. He simply responded. It was always like that, like a habit gradually formed over time. Lips touching lips, brief, and then both of them would pretend that nothing special had happened.

When they kissed, Will was always the one to tilt his head first, and Mike followed. They held hands when no one was paying attention. They spent more time alone together, in silences where Mike no longer felt the need to say anything.

Some afternoons, they hid away in Mike’s basement, separating themselves from Dustin and Lucas with some vague excuse. Will lay stretched out on the carpet, his knees resting on Mike’s lap. Mike played games while unconsciously resting his hand in Will’s hair, gently stroking it bit by bit. He only realized what he was doing when Will let out a soft laugh and closed his eyes.

Mike thought it was normal. Or at least, he told himself it was.

At school, Mike still behaved as he always had. He still talked to people, still joked about trivial things with the group of nerds, still tried not to do anything too different. But whenever someone teased Will, Mike was always the first to react. He stepped in front of Will, his voice louder than usual.

Lucas and Dustin noticed. Mike knew they had noticed. But they did not say anything. They still treated Will and Mike the same as always, as if their group of four was still just a bunch of nerds who liked playing DnD in the basement. They were still good friends, despite the changes and differences.

Mike did not know what they were to each other. He had never thought about putting a name to their relationship. Will did not ask either. They simply continued on like that, as if silence was enough. For Mike, everything was fine. He was not good at naming feelings. But Will was different. He did not want a vague, nameless relationship.

That day was a beautiful early autumn day. Sunlight streamed through the window of Will’s room, falling across the wooden floor and the messy bed where the two boys lay stretched out. Nothing special was happening. They were just there, in Will’s room, like so many other Sunday mornings.

Mike sat with his back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. Will sat beside him, flipping through an old comic book without really reading it. A long moment passed in silence.

“Mike.”

“Hm?”

They were sitting on the bed, backs against the wall. Mike was still looking out the window, where sunlight shone through the trees in the yard.

“What are we to each other?” Will paused. “I mean, what are we?”

Mike froze and turned to look at Will.

“What do you mean?”

Will did not answer right away. He lowered his head, looking at his hands. When he looked up again, his eyes were redder than before, a thin sheen of moisture covering them.

“I mean,” Will said softly, “I just want to know.”

Mike felt his throat tighten, his breathing turning uneven. He did not know how to answer. He had never thought about having to name this. His mind was completely blank.

“I…” Mike started, then fell silent. “I don’t know how to say it.”

Will nodded, his voice thick.

“Yeah. I figured.”

Will seemed calm, but Mike saw his shoulders tremble slightly. And Mike began to panic.

“No, that’s not it,” Mike said quickly. “It’s just that… I’m not good at this kind of thing. But I’m still here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Will looked up at him, his eyes shining with a great, fragile hope.

“Then…” Will took a breath. “We’re a couple, right?”

Mike went still. So that was the name for what they were.

“I mean,” Will spoke faster, as if afraid Mike would object if he hesitated, “you’re my boyfriend… right?”

Mike looked at Will. He was not sure how well he understood his own feelings. But he knew one thing very clearly. He could not bear the thought of Will being hurt because of him.

“Yeah,” Mike said, without hesitation this time. “That’s right.”

Will blinked, joy bursting openly in his eyes.

“Really?”

“Really,” Mike nodded. “Of course.”

Will smiled. A light smile, but one that could not hide his happiness, and it made Mike feel his chest lighten a little. Will leaned closer, resting his forehead against Mike’s shoulder.

“That’s enough,” Will said softly.

Mike did not say anything else. He just stayed there, letting Will remain where he was, telling himself that maybe this was right. At least for now.

Mike was still a good boy. Still trying to behave properly, as normally as possible. It was just that, at some point, a small corner had come to exist inside him, a place he did not know where to put. And he chose to grow accustomed to it, slowly, like everything else in his life.

Chapter 2: Small Cracks

Chapter Text

Everything began to change in the first year at Hawkins High School.

The new school was bigger, louder, its hallways always crowded. Mike found himself walking faster every morning, shrinking into himself amid the packed corridors.

They still went together. Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas. They still rode their bikes to school, still sat together at lunch whenever they could. It was just that everything was no longer contained within a few small classrooms like before.

Then Max appeared.

She transferred in the middle of the school year, her bright red hair striking, riding a skateboard, speaking loudly, and never hesitating to cut in when someone else was talking. On her very first day, Max caught the entire group’s attention with her liveliness.

Max was unlike anyone they had ever hung out with. She laughed loudly and talked a lot, and seemed afraid of nothing. She said she came from California, a place very far away and very different from Hawkins.

Max quickly became part of the group. There was no need to ask anyone’s permission. She was simply there, riding bikes with them, playing games with them, showing up in basement afternoons as if she had always belonged.

Mike both liked and disliked Max.

He did not like how she often argued back at him. He did not like that Max always had her own opinions and was never afraid to voice them. The two of them argued frequently over all kinds of trivial things. Rules of games, who went first, who was right and who was wrong. But Mike could not deny that Max was a good person. She never mocked anyone without reason, never looked down on Dustin, and never allowed anyone to bully Will.

That made Mike feel more at ease.

Will was different. Will did not argue with Max. He observed more, spoke less, but sometimes smiled when Max cracked a joke. Mike noticed that, but did not think much of it.

The relationship between Mike and Will remained the same. At least on the surface. They still sat next to each other whenever possible. There were still secret touches when no one was paying attention. There were still private evenings with just the two of them. Mike felt that everything was fine.

Mike told himself that things were fine this way. Will was still by his side, nothing between them had changed. Yet there were moments when, even with Will sitting right there, Mike felt a strange emptiness inside. A feeling as if there was a gap that had not been filled, like a dead lake, flat and silent. That was not peace. It was a slow kind of dying. A vague loneliness crept into his heart, one that Mike did not know how to name.

There were times when, amid the laughter and chatter of the group, Mike would drift off unconsciously, gazing out the window as if he were waiting for something beyond the safety of this calm he clung to.

That safe life began to develop very small cracks, so small that Mike almost did not notice them.

On a pale, sunlit day, the two of them were sitting cross legged on the floor of Will’s room, doing their homework.

“Hey, there’s something I want to tell you,” Will said.

Mike was still focused on his chemistry homework, not looking up. “What is it?”

“My family’s going to move.”

Mike paused for a moment. “Move?”

“Yeah. But not far,” Will said more quickly, as if afraid Mike would misunderstand. “The new place is closer to your house.”

Mike looked up at Will. “Closer?”

Will nodded. “Much closer. Probably less than a five minute bike ride.”

“Well, that’s good. We can see each other all the time.”

“Yeah.” Will smiled a little wider. “No need to plan ahead. You can just come over whenever you want.”

Mike was silent for a few seconds, then asked, his tone casual, “Why are you moving all of a sudden?”

Will looked down at his hands. “My mom’s getting remarried.”

“Oh,” Mike said. “To who?”

“James Hopper. He’s a police officer.” Will looked up at Mike. “He’s going to be the new police chief in Hawkins.”

Mike frowned. “Police chief?”

“Yeah. To replace old Mick,” Will nodded. “He also has a daughter. About our age.”

Mike tilted his head slightly. “What’s she like?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never met her. The two of them live in New York.”

“New York…” Mike repeated, stretching the word a little.

“Yeah.”

Mike thought for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. “She’s probably a typical New York girl.”

“What kind?” Will asked.

“Like…” Mike searched for the word. “Blonde. Really loud. Really confident. The kind of person everyone notices the moment she walks into a room.”

Will laughed quietly. “You really think a lot.”

“I’m just guessing,” Mike shrugged. “She’ll probably join the cheerleading squad. Or do something really noticeable.”

Will did not say anything else. He just murmured, “Yeah.”

Mike lowered his gaze back to his chemistry homework. In his mind, it did not seem like anything to worry about. A stepsister. Someone new. It all sounded very distant.

At that moment, Mike did not think much of it. He believed it would not affect anything. Will’s house being closer was enough.

At least, that was what Mike believed at the time.

Mike went to Will’s new house on November seventh. The Byers Hopper family had only moved in three days earlier. It was colder than Mike had expected, the wind biting sharply at his ears until they went numb. He stood at the door, rubbing his hands together for warmth, and knocked.

The door opened. Joyce stood there in a thick sweater, wearing her familiar smile.

“Mike? Come in, sweetheart, it’s freezing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mike replied, his voice trembling slightly from the cold.

“Will’s upstairs. You can go in and wait.”

Mike stepped into the living room. The atmosphere in the house was very different from Will’s old place, yet not unfamiliar. Warmer. There was a faint smell of something like tea and soap. A sappy romantic television show was playing, the kind his mother often put on in the evenings. Mike was about to sit down and wait when he suddenly heard a soft giggle.

The sound was light and clear. Like wind chimes hanging on someone’s porch.

Mike looked up.

That was when he noticed the person sitting on the sofa, right in front of the television.

He did not know how to describe the feeling. In that brief moment, everything around him seemed to disappear. The sound of the television dissolved into nothing, his mind suddenly went blank. It was as if someone had struck his head hard, and his heart skipped a beat. Then another.

Mike suddenly realized that, for the first time in his life, he could not control his own reaction.

The girl was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. Soft brown curls fell to her shoulders. Her large brown eyes were bright and focused on the screen. When she laughed, her lips curved gently, like cherry blossom petals. Mike stood there, forgetting how to breathe.

Inside his head, there was a deafening roar, thunder crashing close to his ears.

His heart beat harder every time she laughed, even though that laughter was not meant for him. He could not think of anything to say, did not know whether he should stand or sit, or what he was supposed to do. He realized he was staring when the girl suddenly turned her head.

And when she turned to look straight at him, Mike knew one thing for certain. Even though he was not old enough to understand it yet, did not have enough words to name it, this moment would haunt him for the rest of his life.

It was nothing like the vague feelings he had known before. Nothing like anything he felt with Will.

Those brown eyes met his.

Mike felt his legs go weak, like missing a step on a staircase.

The girl smiled. It was a very slight smile, one that did not reach her eyes.

“Hi.”

“Um…” Mike swallowed. “Hi. I’m Mike.”

She tilted her head slightly, as if about to say something, when hurried footsteps came pounding down the stairs. Before Mike could understand what was happening, Will appeared, running straight toward him.

“Mike!” Will called out.

Then he wrapped his arms around Mike like always. And kissed him.

It was only a very quick kiss. But this time, Mike felt that something was wrong.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw those brown eyes flicker with something strange. He could not tell if it was curiosity or surprise. Or both.

Will grabbed Mike’s hand. “Come on, Dustin and Lucas are waiting.”

“Yeah… yeah,” Mike said, still not fully back to himself.

He turned his head, trying to smile at the girl on the sofa as a way of saying goodbye. But she had already turned back to the television screen, as if Mike had never been standing there at all.

The door closed behind them. Cold air rushed in.

Mike walked beside Will, his hand being pulled along quickly. His heart was still pounding, and he did not understand why.

Chapter 3: She Is a Ray of Sunshine in Winter

Chapter Text

Just as Mike had thought, the appearance of Will’s stepsister at Hawkins High School quickly became the center of attention.

A girl from New York. The daughter of the new chief of police. That alone was more than enough to draw people’s eyes.

She was truly different from the girls in Hawkins.

She wore dresses unlike those of the other students, not flashy, but always neat and fresh. The newest clothes, the most fashionable ones, carrying a distinctly New York flair. Her hair was always carefully brushed. Her makeup was very light, so light that if one did not look closely, it would be hard to notice. But Mike noticed. He saw that her skin was smoother, her lips always a soft shade of pink, as if they were beautiful without any color at all, everything only serving to highlight the delicate, lovely features she already had.

She walked through the school hallway with a calm demeanor, as if she were accustomed to being looked at, as if the eyes drawn toward her were something only natural.

She entered the dull school of a tiny provincial town with no name on the map of the United States like a queen inspecting the land under her rule.

The boys stared openly. The girls gathered in whispers, both curious and wary. The small school, long used to familiar faces, suddenly became noticeably noisier.

History class always made time seem to move more slowly for Mike. The class was small, quiet, with only the soft rustle of turning pages. Mike sat at a desk near the window, resting his chin on his hand, eyes drifting toward the gray courtyard outside. He was thinking about trivial things when the classroom door opened.

Ms. Brown walked in, followed by the very person who had sent Hawkins High School into an uproar since morning. The entire class looked up at once. Mike did too, by reflex.

“Good morning, everyone,” Ms. Brown said. “Today we have a new student.”

The person standing beside her hesitated slightly, then stepped forward. Mike recognized the girl immediately, Will’s stepsister.

“Please introduce yourself,” Ms. Brown said.

The girl took a light breath. “Hello. My name is Jane Hopper.”

Only then did Mike learn her name.

Jane Hopper.

Mike repeated it in his mind once, then again, as if afraid he might forget it.

Ms. Brown glanced around the room. “You can take that empty seat.”

There was only one empty seat.

Jane walked down the row of desks and pulled out the chair next to Mike. When she sat down, Mike caught a very faint scent, fleeting, appearing and vanishing in an instant. He did not turn to look right away, only adjusted his posture slightly, his heart beating a little faster for reasons he did not understand.

Jane opened her book. Mike opened his as well.

But from that moment on, history class was no longer as dull as it had been before.

From that day on, Mike began to quietly pay attention to Jane. Of course, he did not dare to stare at her, nor did he look for excuses to talk to her. It was just that his eyes and his thoughts seemed to automatically follow her wherever she appeared. In the hallway. In the cafeteria. In the schoolyard. Jane was like a newly risen star, with everyone orbiting around her.

The popular girls started to gather around Jane. They laughed and chatted endlessly. Jane laughed too. Her smile was always polite, perfect, and sweet. But Mike saw something that no one else seemed to notice.

Jane was not truly happy.

She always smiled, yet there was a faint, cool sadness lingering in her eyes. The joy and liveliness of the crowd never really reached her. Her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes never did.

Mike did not know why he noticed this. Perhaps because he himself was used to hiding his own feelings.

Despite living under the same roof, Will and Jane were not close. Mike noticed that the two of them rarely talked at school. If they did, the conversations were brief. Jane always kept a carefully measured distance, neither far nor close. She was not close to anyone, yet neither was she cold or rude. She smiled at anyone who approached her, but no one could confidently say that they were Jane’s close friend.

Mike did not share these observations with anyone, not even Will. He simply kept them in his mind.

And he did not understand why, every time he saw Jane, his heart seemed to skip slightly out of rhythm.

That day, Mike stayed at school later than usual. An upcoming test had left him uneasy, so he remained in the library longer than he had planned. By the time he packed up his books and left the building, the sky had begun to turn a golden orange. The school grounds were nearly empty, with only a few bicycles scattered here and there.

Mike jogged toward the bike rack, thinking about getting home in time for dinner. Then he suddenly stopped short.

From the direction of the music room came the sound of a piano. Mike had stayed late at school a few times like this before, but he had never heard piano music like this. At Hawkins High, the only person skilled enough to play a piece this flawlessly was Mrs. Lindas, the music teacher. The melody was gentle and flowing, played with perfect control. Each note rang out clearly, precisely on beat. Every sound echoed through the quiet school as if it were telling a secret story of its owner, like a private confession, speaking of a sorrow that could not be put into words.

Mike stood still for a moment. Then he turned around, unsure whether it was curiosity or some quiet, smoldering feeling in his chest that drew him back. With every step closer, the music grew clearer, spreading through the empty space, as if an invisible force were pulling him toward the music room.

He stopped outside the door, standing to the side and looking in.

In the center of the room, beside the grand piano, sat Jane.

She sat upright, leaning slightly forward. Her long, slender fingers moved across the keys slowly, gently, gracefully. Jane’s eyes were focused on the black and white keys before her. Each note sounded steady, as if she were saying something through the music.

Mike did not understand music. But he could sense the sadness in it, a quiet, lingering sorrow hidden within the melody.

The light of the late afternoon streamed in through the window, resting on Jane’s brown hair. Her figure looked hazy in the glow of the sunset. Mike suddenly thought of the image of a noble angel in a church window when sunlight shines through stained glass, something far too sacred, far too distant, as if no matter how hard he tried for a lifetime, he would never be able to reach it.

He stood frozen, afraid to move. His heart beat faster, each thud painfully clear. His mouth was dry, his throat tight.

Mike realized he did not want to leave. He did not want to break this moment.

And that realization confused him.

Suddenly, a strange feeling surged up in Mike’s chest. Guilt.

He thought of Will.

Of the way Will held his hand, of Will’s voice whispering in his ear about how much he loved Mike, of how Mike had been with Will for so long, so long it felt as though it had carried over from a past life. Will was his boyfriend. At least, that was what Mike had said, what he had promised.

The thought weighed heavily on his heart.

Mike asked himself what he was doing here. He was just standing there watching a girl play the piano. Just listening to music. Just standing still. He was not touching Jane, not speaking to her, she did not even know he was there. So why was his heart racing like this. Why did it feel as though he had just done something wrong.

The guilt came suddenly and vaguely. It was not like the guilt of lying to adults or doing something obviously wrong. It was like holding a secret inside himself, one he knew he should not keep, one he knew would destroy him if he did not stop.

Mike tried to reassure himself. He had done nothing wrong. He was just standing there. Just a chance moment. Just music. Just Jane. She was Will’s stepsister.

But his heart refused to listen to reason.

He realized that what unsettled him was not standing here, but this feeling itself. The feeling that made him forget everything else for a few short minutes. As he stood listening to the piano, Will was no longer in his mind. There was no family, no friends, no school. There was nothing at all, only Jane.

That thought terrified Mike.

Chapter 4: Flowers and Grass

Chapter Text

In the days that followed, Mike realized that he had begun to notice Jane unconsciously.

Mike did not want to turn into some kind of creepy stalker, but he could not stop himself from looking toward her whenever he heard her laughter or caught that faint scent he had noticed in history class. His traitorous eyes would automatically search for her in the crowded hallways. When he entered the cafeteria, he would unconsciously glance toward the table across the room to see what Jane was eating that day. And almost every time, it was the same. Carefully wrapped Eggo waffles, sometimes with an apple. Mike did not understand why he remembered such trivial details. They simply stayed in his mind, taking root there as if that place belonged to them.

He also noticed colors. Jane often wore clothes in shades of yellow and pale purple. Those colors made her look even more lovely. Jane knew how to dress, and it made her stand out even more among the local girls around her. Even Stacy, once the most eye catching girl in school, seemed dull when standing beside her. And that made it impossible for Mike to take his eyes off Jane.

What confused him the most was that, despite always being surrounded by people, Jane never seemed to truly be with them. She always smiled brightly, nodded as others spoke to her, responded politely. But when classes ended, she disappeared. Jane never hung out after school, never went out on weekends, never lingered at the ice cream shop or diner like the other students. Jane seemed to exist only within certain hours of the school day, then retreat back into a world of her own.

Mike noticed this most clearly whenever he went to Will’s house.

Will would pull him up to his room, talking about homework, about DnD, about all kinds of trivial things. Jane, meanwhile, was usually downstairs in the living room, watching movies, curled up on the sofa, or shut away in her own room. Occasionally, they would run into each other in the kitchen. Jane would nod in greeting, smile, then turn away. Neither close nor distant. A distance just right enough that Mike did not know whether he should step forward or stop.

The more it was like that, the more curious he became.

Jane was like a question without an answer to Mike. Something always within sight, yet every time he thought he understood her a little more, he realized he knew nothing at all. She was very close, only separated from him by a wall, a room, and yet at the same time, very far away.

Mike did not tell anyone about this. He did not share the things he noticed about Jane with Lucas or Dustin, and certainly not with Will.

Whenever Will rested his head on Mike’s shoulder or held his hand in that familiar way, Mike still responded as he always had. Everything between them remained gentle, remained calm. But in moments when he was alone, when he did not have to look at or speak to or touch anyone, Mike realized that he was thinking about Jane.

He thought of the image of her sitting at the piano that late afternoon, of her curled up on the sofa, her bright brown eyes shining on a November day. Of that fleeting scent he still could not identify. Of the sadness that always lingered faintly in her gaze.

Mike did not know what to call this feeling. He only knew that with each passing day, Jane became more familiar in his mind. She had taken root far too deeply in his thoughts, in a way he had never intended to allow.

And that made Mike feel lost.

That afternoon was quite beautiful. The sky was clear, and the temperature was not too cold, the kind of weather that made Mike regret staying cooped up inside.

He rode his bike to Will’s house as usual, planning to invite him to go up the hill at the edge of town with Lucas, Dustin, and Max. When Joyce opened the door, Mike stepped into the living room first, familiar as if it were his own home.

Jane was sitting on the sofa, a book open on her lap. She looked up when she heard the door and smiled at Mike. In that moment, a thought suddenly sparked in Mike’s mind, so fast that he did not even have time to consider it.

“Jane,” Mike spoke before he could think it through, “we’re going up the hill to hang out. Do you want to come with us?”

The question had barely left his mouth when Mike realized his heart was beating a little faster. He hoped the answer would be yes.

Jane looked at him for a few seconds. Her gaze passed over Mike, then shifted toward the staircase. Will was standing there, leaning lightly against the railing, saying nothing but clearly watching. Jane looked back at Mike. She noticed a faint flush rising on the freckled cheeks of his face, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something more but did not know what.

Then Jane smiled, a very bright smile.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “sure.”

Will came down the stairs right after that.

“What is this?” he asked, unable to hide his irritation. “Why is Jane coming? This was not part of the plan. Jane never goes with us.”

Mike turned to Will, a little awkward but trying to keep his voice normal.

“Well, Jane’s been here for more than a month now. She does not really know anyone yet. And besides,” Mike hesitated for a moment, “she’s your stepsister. You live in the same house. I thought we could be friendlier. Help her fit in.”

Will looked at Mike for a long time. That look made Mike uncomfortable, as if he had said something he should not have. But in the end, Will just let out a breath.

“Fine,” he said without much enthusiasm, “if she wants to.”

Jane stood up and picked up her jacket.
“Of course I want to.”

Jane followed Mike and Will out into the yard. She did not have her own bike. Will’s bike did not have a back seat. Only Mike’s could carry someone.

“It’s fine,” Mike said immediately. “I’ll take Jane.”

Jane sat on the back seat, her hands lightly holding onto Mike’s jacket. When she leaned a little closer to keep her balance, Mike clearly felt her warmth through the thin layer of fabric. A gentle scent drifted past him, the same scent he always noticed in history class, the scent of lily of the valley.

Mike’s heart beat faster. He forced himself to focus straight ahead on the road.

“That place over there is the ice cream shop we usually go to,” Mike said as he pedaled, his voice slightly higher than usual. “And that’s the movie theater. It gets really crowded on weekends.”

Jane listened, occasionally answering with a very soft “mm.” She did not ask many questions, only tilting her head to look in the direction Mike pointed, as if everything were new to her.

Beside them, Will rode his bike a little more slowly.

He noticed every change in Mike, starting with the way he spoke to Jane. Mike’s voice was gentler now, as if he were trying to keep everything pleasant. Will had never heard Mike talk like that so much before, at least not with him. Every time Jane responded, even if it was just a simple “mm” or a nod, Mike’s eyes lit up, the light in them sparkling as if someone had turned on an extra lamp inside him. Will noticed that Mike was smiling more, and it was not the familiar smile he saw every day. It was a smile that was sincere, natural, and coming straight from Mike’s heart.

That stirred a strange sense of unease inside Will, even though he did not want it to. The feeling made him uncomfortable. It was like holding something very familiar in his hands, then suddenly realizing it was no longer staying still. As if the relationship between him and Mike was still there, still intact, but a very small crack had just appeared.

Will wondered if he was overthinking things. Mike was still here beside him, still riding alongside him, still his Mike. And yet, he could not deny that something had changed. Mike was very close, but at the same time, it felt as though he was slowly slipping out of his grasp.

Will did not say anything. He had never been good at saying things like that.

He just rode on in silence, watching Mike’s back, letting that worry smolder quietly in his chest.

The hill at the edge of town was the same as always. The wind blew steadily, the grass stretched wide, and Hawkins lay far off on the horizon.

Lucas, Dustin, and Max were already there. Max was the first to notice Jane.

“So you finally decided to come hang out?” Max laughed warmly, then quickly pulled Jane closer. The two of them talked easily, as if they had known each other for a long time. Max spread a blanket on the grass, and Jane sat down beside her, their heads leaning close together as they talked and laughed.

Mike stood with Lucas and Dustin, pretending to join in their usual jokes, but his gaze kept drifting to the other side. Jane sat there in the middle of the green field, the winter sunlight falling on her brown hair, the wind lifting it lightly around her face. Jane laughed out loud, her clear laughter ringing through the quiet space of the hill like chimes. Mike could not think of any words to describe how it felt. He only knew that his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

He forgot where he was standing.

Until Will took his hand.

Will pulled Mike closer, leaned in, and pressed a quick, familiar kiss to his cheek. Mike startled, breaking free from the hazy, pink feelings wrapping around his mind and returning to reality. He turned to Will and saw the familiar face, the familiar eyes. Everything fell back into its proper place.

Mike took a breath and tried to smile.

He sat down beside Will. They sat close together, fingers intertwined, just as they always did. No one in the group noticed. Lucas was saying something to Dustin. Max and Jane were still talking, occasionally bursting into laughter. Everything was perfectly normal.

Will held Mike’s hand tightly, as if to remind him. Mike nodded, responding to a few of Will’s words, trying to look like his old self. But something inside him refused to settle.

Jane did not look their way. She was still sitting there, leaning toward Max, sunlight resting on her shoulder. Mike did not dare look directly at her, even though he did not know why. Just one glance, and he was afraid he would forget whose hand he was holding.

Will sensed that silence. He did not speak, only tightened his grip on Mike’s hand a little more. Mike returned the squeeze, out of habit.

The hill grew quiet as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. Jane and Max were still chatting animatedly, with Lucas and Dustin joining in. They teased one another, and Jane seemed genuinely happy in that moment.

That night, in his warm bed, the sound of laughter like silver bells drifted into Mike’s dreams. And he knew that even though everything still looked the same, something had begun to slip out of place.

Chapter 5: The Fall

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In the days that followed, Jane gradually became a familiar part of the group.

She grew close to Max as if the two of them had known each other for years. They often sat together during lunch, talking nonstop, sometimes laughing so loudly that nearby students turned to look at them with annoyed expressions, but neither of the girls cared. Jane was also comfortable around Dustin and Lucas, listening to their rambling stories and occasionally chiming in with a few witty remarks that made the whole group burst into laughter.

Only with Mike did Jane continue to keep a vague distance.

They were part of the same group, sat next to each other in history class, and walked in the same direction toward the bike racks after school. Yet there was always a space between them that neither of them seemed willing to cross. Jane was polite and gentle, not distant in a way that made others uncomfortable, but she never moved any closer either. Mike did not know what she thought of him, and that troubled him more than it should have.

Jane and Will lived in the same house, yet they were not even as close as Jane and Max. Will and Jane spoke very little, usually only about necessary things like dinner, lunch, or what time their mother would pick them up. Mike noticed this from time to time, but he did not dare think too deeply about it.

As the days passed, Mike realized he was looking at Jane more and more, unconscious glances during history class or at lunchtime. He began to notice what colors she wore each day, whether her hair was tied back or left loose, what shade of lipstick she had on. Jane slowly started to appear in his absent minded moments, slipping into thoughts that Mike had never allowed anyone to enter before.

Then, one day in late November, the school announced that it would be holding the Snow Ball. A traditional school dance, a paradise for students to let loose and do the things they usually only dared to do in the empty third floor bathrooms.

The poster was hung in the main hallway, pale blue paper with white letters and snowflakes printed across it. The atmosphere of the entire school heated up noticeably. Everyone talked about it, asking one another who they would go with.

An unexpected thought sprang into Mike’s mind, so fast that it surprised even him. He imagined himself standing in front of Jane, calling her name, asking her to go to the Snow Ball with him, just like any boy asking the girl he secretly liked.

The thought made his heart pound and frightened him at the same time.

Secretly liked?

And immediately after that, Mike crushed it.

He felt as though he had just stepped off a path he had walked hundreds of times before. The feeling made him uneasy. Mike told himself he was just thinking nonsense, it was only the Snow Ball, only Jane, only a girl in their friend group.

But the closer the dance came, the more he felt his nerves being pushed to their limit.

Jane became the center of attention for the entire school, and Mike could not ignore it. Boys started coming up to her. Some stood awkwardly in front of Jane, said a few short sentences, then blushed and walked away. Some pretended to be relaxed, laughing loudly and telling rambling stories just to keep her there a little longer. Even a few familiar faces from the school basketball team appeared, arriving with loud groups of friends, deliberately making a scene at the lunch tables to draw her attention.

Jane always responded with gentle politeness. She smiled softly, nodded, chatted a little, but she did not accept anyone’s invitation. That only made her stand out even more, as if everyone had a chance, yet no one could truly reach her.

Mike watched everything from a distance, an uncomfortable feeling simmering in his stomach, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way. He knew Jane was popular, but having to witness it every day, seeing her become the focus of so many eyes, made his chest feel heavy, as if a stone were pressing down on it. He said nothing and showed nothing outwardly, only stood quietly beside Will, telling himself he had no reason to care this much.

Will was different.

Will seemed excited about the Snow Ball. He talked about decorations, about music, about dancing, and about how they would finally have a private evening to enjoy themselves like other couples. Mike did not ask Will to the dance, but neither of them needed to say it. It had been silently understood for a long time, like a habit. They were a couple, and they would obviously be each other’s dates.

Mike nodded whenever Will mentioned the Snow Ball. He listened, held Will’s hand as they walked together down the hallway. Mike knew he should feel reassured. He knew where he was and who he was.

But every time he thought about the dance floor, the lights, the slow music, another image forced its way in. Jane standing there, cheeks flushed, lips softly pursed as if inviting a kiss, eyes shining under the disco lights and a radiant smile as she was pulled into his arms.

The thought made his heart race in his chest.

There was only one day left until the Snow Ball.

That day, Dustin showed up holding a bouquet of flowers. He did everything very formally, his voice trembling but full of determination. The whole group fell silent, watching.

Jane looked surprised, then smiled. She accepted the flowers and nodded.

Dustin was so happy he nearly jumped into the air.

Mike stood there, feeling as if someone had punched him straight in the stomach.

He still smiled. Still stood beside Will. Still Mike, just like every other day.

Only this time, inside him, nothing was peaceful anymore.

The Snow Ball night finally arrived.

He and Will walked hand in hand into the school gymnasium. The familiar space suddenly felt completely different, strings of white lights hanging high above, shimmering decorations everywhere, the floor reflecting a soft glow as if covered by a thin layer of snow. The scent of perfume, laughter, and Christmas music blended together, creating an atmosphere that was both lively and warm.

Will tightened his grip on Mike’s hand, as if to remind him who was standing beside him.

Their friends appeared one by one. Lucas and Max arrived together, laughing easily. Then Dustin walked in, looking a little awkward in his custom tailored suit. Jane was beside him.

Mike noticed her instantly, as if everything else in the room faded into the background. Jane was wearing a purple dress, simple but striking under the lights. The skirt flared softly as she walked, moving fluidly with each step. Her brown hair was loosely pinned up, a few strands falling against her neck and bare shoulders. She held onto Dustin’s arm, tilting her head as she smiled at him, a bright and natural smile.

Mike felt his heart stutter the moment Jane smiled at Dustin.

When the music started, Dustin led Jane onto the dance floor, a little clumsy but full of enthusiasm. Will pulled Mike along as well. Mike placed his hand on Will’s waist, trying to focus on the familiar steps. Will smiled at him, his gaze warm and trusting. Mike returned the smile, but his eyes kept drifting unconsciously to the other side of the dance floor.

Jane spun in Dustin’s arms, the purple dress blooming around her like a flower against the white snow. She laughed openly, her eyes shining beneath the lights. The sight made Mike’s chest tighten. He felt short of breath, as if the room had suddenly grown smaller.

After a few songs, Mike quietly told Will that he needed to use the bathroom. Will nodded without suspicion and reminded him to come back soon.

In the restroom, Mike bent over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, saw the slight redness in his eyes and the tension in his expression. He told himself that all he needed to do was calm down, go back into Will’s arms, and everything would be fine.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Mike stopped.

Jane was standing there, her back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. The music from the gym echoed faintly from a distance. She was looking toward the window, her gaze far away, as if her mind were somewhere else entirely.

Mike’s feet moved forward before he could think.

Jane turned when she heard his footsteps. She looked straight into Mike’s eyes and smiled. That smile made his heart tighten, and he thought that at this rate he would end up with heart disease.

“Why are you out here?” Mike asked. “Not dancing anymore?”

Jane shrugged. “I just wanted to step outside for a bit.” She tilted her head toward the half closed gym doors, where light and music spilled out. “It’s too crowded in there, too loud and suffocating.”

Mike nodded. He stood there for a few seconds, then said, “I thought Dustin would be a terrible dance partner.”

Jane let out a soft laugh, this time a genuine one, not the polite kind she usually gave. “No, he’s really sweet. Dustin makes me laugh the whole time.” She paused, then added as if choosing her words carefully. “I like him a lot.”

“Then why aren’t you in there?” Mike asked.

Jane did not answer right away. She leaned back more fully against the wall, her hands clasping together. “Because I realized I was waiting for someone else,” she said.

Mike swallowed hard. “Someone else?”

Jane turned to look at him.

“I thought there would be someone else who would ask me to the Snow Ball,” she said. “I was waiting for that person to say it.”

As she said this, Jane looked straight at Mike. Her gaze did not waver or joke. Those brown eyes that always lit up when she smiled were now calm, her long lashes trembling slightly. She looked directly at Mike, as if she were trying to say something.

The air between them suddenly grew heavier, as if all sound had been pulled away. Mike felt his heart pounding so loudly that he feared Jane might hear it.

He felt blood rush to his face, his thoughts tangled. “That’s a shame. That person probably doesn’t know what they missed,” he stammered. “Because… because they missed someone perfect like you.”

Jane smiled, slower this time, as if that answer pleased her. She stepped closer to Mike. Close enough that he could see her skin, hear her soft breathing, catch the familiar scent of her perfume.

Jane smiled, the curve of her lips lifting very slowly, as if his words had landed exactly where she wanted them to. “You always say things like that. And it seems like you don’t really understand what you want either.”

Mike frowned. “What do you mean?”

Jane stepped closer again. The distance between them was now so small that Mike could see the fine, nearly invisible hairs on her skin. “I mean,” she said softly, “why do you keep looking at me like that. In class, on the hill, and tonight too. Mike Wheeler, do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Mike opened his mouth, then closed it again. Every explanation in his head felt clumsy. “I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” Jane interrupted, her voice gentler. “I just want to know.” She tilted her head, her expression serious. “Why?”

Her fresh breath brushed against his face. In that moment, Mike no longer heard the music, no longer thought about Will, no longer thought about right or wrong. Something inside him pushed him forward.

Mike leaned in and kissed Jane.

The kiss was brief, but the instant their lips touched, Mike knew this was nothing like anything he had experienced before. It shattered everything inside him into a thousand pieces. His heart raced wildly, his body burned, and hundreds of butterflies erupted in his stomach.

It was nothing like the kisses he had shared with Will. This was not a safe kiss or the familiar sense of peace he had always relied on. This kiss left him dizzy, as if he had been yanked off the ground.

Mike’s mind went blank, all reason gone. He could not think of anything else.

Only Jane.

When they slowly pulled apart, Jane’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling with a strange, mischievous light. But Mike did not care. The only thing that existed in his mind was that Jane Hopper’s lipstick tasted like strawberries.

Notes:

A reminder once again: Jane is not an innocent or kind girl.

Chapter 6: She is the Poison That Erodes His Heart

Chapter Text

Mike Wheeler felt as though he were going mad.

He woke up with a restless sensation, like a fire lit on that fateful night was still smoldering in his chest. At school, he subconsciously searched for Jane's silhouette among the crowded hallways, in the classrooms, and in the cafeteria. Just a glimpse of that brown hair or her petite frame caused a fierce heat to surge within him again. Once one has tasted forbidden fruit, the craving becomes impossible to stop. Mike hated to admit it, but he knew he was longing for Jane. He wanted to stand a little closer to her. He wanted to speak a few more words. He wanted to see her smile at him, just like at the Snow Ball.

But Jane did not.

She returned to the person she was before, both near and far at the same time. They were in the same friend group, sat at the same table in the cafeteria, and laughed with everyone, but whenever Mike tried to get closer, wanted to talk privately, or simply looked at her a little longer, Jane became careful again. In history class, Mike once leaned over to ask Jane a very normal question about the lecture. She answered briefly, smiled politely, and turned away immediately. In the cafeteria, he brought her an extra soda; Jane took it and said thank you, but the can remained unopened. Everything was proper, as if the kiss that day was just a fleeting illusion in Mike's head, not real at all.

That made Mike even more confused. He did not understand what Jane was thinking. He did not understand how she could be so calm while his head was constantly spinning. There were moments Mike wondered if that kiss truly mattered to her, or if it was just a momentary lapse, like a dance that had ended.

Parallel to those desires was a growing, distinct sense of guilt.

Will was still by Mike's side. He still held his hand while walking home. He still rested his head on Mike's shoulder when the group watched movies. Will smiled at him, a trusting and gentle smile, as if nothing had changed. Each time that happened, Mike felt his heart sink. What was he doing? Mike knew he should stop. He should return to that safe place where everything was peaceful and familiar. He only needed to hold Will's hand and let everything drift back to the way it was, simply telling himself that the feeling for Jane would eventually pass. But his heart would not obey. It kept betraying him with rapid thumps whenever he smelled the scent of lily of the valley, with eyes that always found their way back to someone who did not belong to him.

Some nights, Mike lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fear and guilt intertwined. He was afraid of hurting Will, afraid he would become a jerk even though he knew he was stepping one foot onto the path of becoming the biggest jerk of all time. But the next day at school, just seeing Jane walk through the hallway clutching a book to her chest, all that fragile determination vanished as if it had never existed.

Mike had to make his final decision. He had to stop.

If Jane had chosen to step back, if she considered that kiss something that should not be mentioned again, then Mike would not hold on any longer. He was tired of guessing someone else's thoughts, tired of the feeling that he was debasing himself just to hope for a glance, a tiny reaction from her. Mike told himself he had gone too far. He had Will; he was in a relationship where he was not allowed to hurt him.

So Mike resolved to give up on Jane.

He avoided looking toward her in class. In the cafeteria, he sat closer to Will, trying to focus on the familiar stories. He reminded himself that the feeling was just a foolish crush, that everything would cool down if he were determined enough.

But late that afternoon, when almost all the students had gone home, Mike stayed a little later. Will had already gone home first. Mike packed his books slowly, as if trying to stretch out the time, though he himself did not know what he was waiting for. He walked aimlessly through the long, quiet hallways.

He stepped out into the corridor. The school in the late afternoon was quieter than usual. There were no laughs, no hurried footsteps. Only the pale yellow light and the steady sound of his own shoes remained. And then, as if possessed, his feet turned toward the music room. In his mind, a very clear image appeared, even though Mike did not want it to. The image of Jane sitting by the piano that day. The sunset light streaming through the window frame. Slender fingers gliding over the keys. The music was so gentle and sad that it made him stand frozen the first time he saw it.

Mike laughed silently to himself. He knew what he was doing. He knew he should not be doing this, but deep in his mind, a devilish voice was silently urging him to step forward. He slowed down as he approached. The music room door was slightly ajar. It was unusually quiet inside. Jane was sitting by the piano, but she was not playing. She just sat there, hands resting lightly on her thighs, eyes looking down at the floor.

Mike stood still without saying a word. He just looked at her, a chaotic feeling rising in his chest again, the feeling that always appeared when he looked at Jane.

Then Jane turned her head.

Her brown eyes, usually bright and calm, were now glistening with tears. She said nothing, only looked at Mike, as if she always knew he was there. A brief moment passed, but it was enough for all of Mike's resolve to collapse. Without further thought, Mike stepped closer. He reached out, almost by instinct, to wipe away a tear that was about to fall from the corner of her eye. Jane did not shy away; she leaned toward him, her forehead resting against Mike's stomach. In that moment, Mike felt breathless, as if the air around them had suddenly vanished.

Jane gripped his shirt tightly.

"Don't go," she said softly, her voice trembling.

Just those two words were enough for everything inside him to crumble. Mike leaned down, almost unable to think anymore.

When their lips touched, everything seemed to shatter in those few short seconds. This kiss did not have the haste of the Snow Ball night; it was not a moment caught up in music and lights. This time, the kiss came from deeper emotions, from all the things that had been suppressed throughout the past days. It was a sweet, slow kiss, full of longing and lingering.

Jane did not pull back. She stayed there, letting Mike kiss her, then slowly responded. Her hands still gripped Mike's jacket. His hands slid behind her back, tightening around her slender waist, pulling her closer until her chest was pressed against his, until he could feel her heartbeat.

Mike felt his own heartbeat very clearly, rapid and out of control. Jane's breath mingled with his, so close that he forgot where he was standing, forgot even time. In his mind, the thought of Will flashed by, of all the right things he had tried to keep, but that thought was faint and weak, quickly swept away by her scent and warmth.

This kiss did not bring a sense of safety. It made one tremble, made the chest burn, made everything inside feel as if it were being torn apart and then rearranged into a completely different order. Mike knew that, knew it very well, and that was exactly what made him afraid.

But he still did not stop.

When they pulled apart, both were breathing heavily. Jane still stood very close to him, her forehead almost touching Mike's shoulder. He looked down at her, seeing her cheeks flushed and those brown eyes no longer avoiding him.

In that moment, Mike finally understood that this was no longer a temporary mistake.

And he had sunk too deep into guilt.

Chapter 7: Sweet Sin

Notes:

WARNING WARNING WARNING: This is a story about dark, toxic, and manipulative love. Jane is not a good person, Jane is not a good person, Jane is not a good person (important things are said three times). If you do not like this, please do not read.

Chapter Text

The following days, Mike Wheeler sank too deep into the mire of guilt and could not turn back.

The afternoons in Hawkins were no longer as peaceful as before, at least in Mike's mind. He realized he was living a double life, where every smile given to Will carried the weight of guilt, and every touch with Jane was like a stimulant that made his heart race. Everything happened silently and secretively. Mike and Jane did not go public; of course they did not dare. Mike was still in a relationship with Will, acting as an exemplary and perfect boyfriend. His relationship with Jane always remained in the lingering shadows, a relationship that could not even be named. The two of them even tried to avoid each other's eyes in front of everyone.

The distance between Mike and Jane in front of others was like a perfectly staged play. At school, they rarely stood near each other. Mike would always stand beside Will, his arm draped over his boyfriend's shoulder or discussing a new DnD campaign together, while Jane stood on the opposite side of the circle, quietly observing. If someone happened to look in, they would only see two casual acquaintances, perhaps even a bit distant because they did not have many common interests to talk about. Mike intentionally avoided looking directly into Jane's eyes; he feared that with just one second of neglect, his longing gaze would betray everything.

However, beneath that calm veneer was a completely different truth.

During lunch in the cafeteria, while the group was noisily discussing a newly released movie, Mike sat next to Will as a natural matter of course. Jane sat opposite him. On the table, Jane focused only on her food tray, occasionally contributing a few short sentences to Dustin and Lucas's story. But under the table, where the darkness hid everything, a dangerous game was taking place.

Mike felt the tip of Jane's shoe lightly touch his shin. He froze, his breath catching in his throat, but he still tried to keep his face unchanged. Her small foot, hidden behind a white sock, slowly slid past the denim fabric and began to slowly caress him from his ankle up to his knee; every part she touched felt like a fire burning through each layer of his skin. That soft sensation pierced through the denim of his jeans, hot and provocative. Mike gripped his fork tightly, his heart pounding as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. Right beside him, Will was excitedly telling him about a new painting, Will's hands occasionally touching Mike's hand to seek agreement.

That guilt ridden stimulation made Mike suffocate: on one side was Will's sincere, warm affection right under the light, and on the other was Jane's sinful but exhilarating touch in the darkness.

There were times when the group walked together in the cramped hallways, and Jane would intentionally slow down so Mike would brush past her. In that brief moment, when their shoulders touched, Jane would let her fingers glide lightly over the back of his hand, a fleeting touch but enough to make Mike's body tremble. They did not look at each other, did not smile, and just kept walking like two strangers.

The hallways of Hawkins High School became a labyrinth of secrets. Mike and Jane had learned how to read each other's signals without using words. With just a slight nod from Jane as she passed by, Mike would linger a few steps behind the group, pretending to retie his shoelaces or look for a book in his locker. As soon as Will and Lucas's backs disappeared around the corner of the hallway, he would quickly slip into a dark room where Jane was already waiting behind the door.

In the mornings at school, the group gathered by the rows of lockers. Jane would walk past with only a glance so quick that no one could catch it, but Mike knew exactly what it meant. When the group laughed together at one of Dustin's jokes, Jane accidentally brushed against Mike's elbow as she went to get a book. That touch was brief but enough to pull Mike's mind away from the conversation. He began to find himself searching for her silhouette in the crowd, waiting for the secret signals that only the two of them understood.

In the space filled with the smell of dust and moldy wood, they threw themselves at each other as if they had been apart for a very long time. Those burning, clumsy teenage kisses made Mike dizzy. He pushed Jane's body against the cold wall, pressing his entire self against Jane's warm, hot body against the wall, one hand running into her soft brown hair and the other gripping her waist possessively. But as soon as they heard the laughter of their friends echoing from afar, they immediately pulled apart. Jane quickly adjusted her collar, and Mike took a deep breath to regain his composure. Only a few minutes later, they appeared in the cafeteria or the school yard, and Mike stood beside Will again, nonchalantly continuing the unfinished story as if his breath had never been disturbed by a sinful kiss.

The more he tried to act normal, the more Mike found himself sinking deeper into the stimulation of sinful desire. He knew he was betraying Will's love, even as he continued to laugh and talk with him. Guilt was like a fog clouding his mind, but every time Jane used those secret gestures, Mike found that he no longer wanted to escape. He was both terrified of the day everything would come to light and longing for the next clandestine moments, where the distance in front of others served only as a springboard for even more intense cravings when they were alone.

That day, Mike sat on the sofa at Will’s house, eyes staring at the television screen playing a sci-fi movie they had watched over and over again. His arm was wrapped around Will’s waist, a familiar gesture, warm and full of trust. Mike felt a surge of electricity run down his spine, but it was not from a spark of romance; it was the gnawing bite of guilt. Just ten minutes prior, he had used the excuse of going to the bathroom to slip into Jane’s room. In the darkness of the room filled with the scent of lily of the valley, Mike had forcefully pressed Jane against the wall, and they had exchanged hurried kisses, so passionate that Mike felt as if his lungs had run out of oxygen.

He looked over at Will. The light from the TV reflected in the gentle eyes of his boyfriend, the person Mike had promised to go to the end of the world with. Mike wondered if he was a terrible person for still enjoying Will’s deep affection while simultaneously craving Jane to the point of madness. Being with Will was peace, a set of safe habits. But being with Jane was an explosion of youth, a feeling of living intensely and dangerously.

That risk reached its peak on the nights Mike stayed over at Will’s house.

When darkness enveloped the house and Will’s steady breathing sounded beside him, Mike listened to his lover's breath. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His heart pounded so hard he feared Will would hear it. He waited until he was certain everything had sunk into silence, then crept out of bed. Every creak of the floorboards made his heart stop, sweat breaking out on his forehead.

He slipped into Jane’s room, her door left slightly ajar like an invitation. In the dim moonlight casting through the window, Jane was waiting on the bed. They said nothing, there was only the sound of heartbeats and the friction of fabric. Mike sat down beside her, feeling the warmth of Jane’s skin through her thin shirt. They kissed, more fervently than ever, because they knew Will was just one thin wall away. A few times, the excitement overwhelmed the fear, and Mike let his hands go further than just kisses, touching emotional territories he had never explored with Will. A sense of euphoria flowed through his body, so strong and brilliant that it made him forget he was a traitor.

Near dawn, Mike quietly retreated, returning to bed to lie beside Will. As soon as Mike laid his back down, Will instinctively moved closer, nesting into his arms as if returning to a familiar safe haven. And in that moment, Mike looked at Will’s figure in the dark, tucked into his embrace, and his heart overflowed with a contradiction so heavy it was suffocating. A part of him wanted to confess everything to escape this burden of guilt, but the other part, the more childish and greedy part, wanted to keep both worlds: the safety of Will on one side and the blazing fire of Jane on the other.

Mike closed his eyes, his lips still carrying a trace of Jane’s strawberry lip balm, and he promised himself this would be the last time, even though he knew full well he would find a way to slip into that room again tomorrow night.

Mike told himself this was just a temporary phase of infatuation, that he would soon resolve this mess. But the truth was, every time he intended to stop, the exhilaration from those secret encounters pulled him back into the mire of sin. He liked the way Jane looked at him as if he were the only person in the world, and he also liked the way he was becoming more reckless every day.

Mike Wheeler could no longer turn back.

Chapter 8: The Sweet Angel in His Heart

Chapter Text

On a late Friday afternoon, when Mike used the excuse of staying late at the library to review chemistry assignments and Will was busy going home to work on an Art Club project. In an empty classroom along the third floor hallway, the sallow sunlight of dusk slanted through dust covered glass windows, the space smelling strongly of old wood and absolute silence, Mike held Jane tightly in his arms, their kiss more burning and passionate than usual. He felt like a drunkard, his trembling hands gripping her waist, trying to close every gap. Mike had begun to dream of a different future, a place where he did not have to hide, where he could publicly hold her hand in the middle of the school hallway.

But just as Mike was about to whisper a sweet word into Jane's ear as he usually did, she suddenly pushed him away.

Mike stumbled backward, looking at her in bewilderment, his lips still carrying the strawberry scent of the lip gloss Jane used. Jane did not look at him. She stood there, her trembling hands fixing her slightly disheveled hair, then gently smoothing her shirt. Her face, which had just been glowing with fervor, suddenly became unusually cold and distant.

"Jane? What is wrong?" Mike took a step forward, his voice hoarse.

Jane backed away, her eyes brimming with tears as if she were enduring an ultimate pain. She whispered, her voice shaking but resolute:

"We have to stop, Mike. We should not do this anymore... poor Will. He loves you so much and he is my brother."

The statement was like a bucket of cold water splashed directly onto Mike's excitement. He stood frozen, the long suppressed feeling of guilt suddenly surging up, clawing at his mind. But seeing Jane's "apologetic" and miserable expression, Mike felt his heart tighten with pain. He had no idea that behind those drooping curved lashes, Jane was observing him calmly. She knew very well that Mike was the type of boy who always wanted to protect, always wanting to take all the guilt upon himself.

"I cannot continue to deceive Will anymore," Jane continued, her voice fading. "Perhaps from the beginning... I was wrong to let myself be moved by you. Please go back to Will, act as if nothing ever happened between us."

Jane turned to walk away, her petite figure lonely in the large room. Mike watched her, a sense of loss and fear enveloping him. The thought of losing Jane, of her becoming a distant "stranger" in Will's house, drove him mad. He did not see the selfishness in her words; he only saw a poor girl trying to sacrifice love for morality.

The protective instinct of an adolescent boy was strongly stimulated. Mike rushed forward, grabbed Jane's wrist, and spun her around.

"No, Jane! I cannot go back to the way things were." Mike asserted, his voice full of blind determination. "Do not say it is your fault. It is me... I am the one who loved you first. I will resolve this, I will make everything right. Just please, do not push me away."

Jane looked at him, a flash of coldness streaking through the depths of her eyes but quickly replaced by an air of weakness. She gently rested her head against his chest, her lips hinting at a faint smile that Mike could never see. He squeezed her tightly in his arms, secretly promising himself that he would do anything to keep her, to prove that his love for her was sincere, regardless of the fact that Will's heart would shatter.

The more he saw Jane "hesitate," the deeper Mike wanted to sink. He had completely fallen into the trap she had set, where guilt only made his secret love more intense than ever.

Dinner that evening at the Hopper Byers house took place in an atmosphere that Mike felt was so suffocating he could hardly breathe. Jane sat there, obedient in an oversized sweater, her head slightly bowed as she helped Joyce set out the food. Throughout the entire evening, she did not look at Mike once, as if he did not exist. Even when Mike intentionally passed her a plate of food, Jane only received it coldly from Will's hand, absolutely avoiding even the slightest contact.

Her ignoring him was like a form of torture for Mike. He sat beside Will, listening to his boyfriend excitedly talk about a new idea for a game, but Mike's mind was placed only on the opposite side. He felt like an invisible man, a stranger being pushed out of Jane's life. That coldness did not discourage Mike; on the contrary, it was like a match thrown into a pile of dry hay, causing the longing within him to flare up more fiercely than ever.

That night, when the whole house had fallen asleep and Will’s breathing beside him had become steady, Mike quietly left Will’s bedroom. He gently turned the doorknob to Jane’s room, his heart pounding as if it wanted to burst out of his chest.

In the dim room, Jane was sitting by the window, the moonlight casting in and making her face look even smaller and more pitiful. Mike walked over, intending to wrap his arms around her from behind, but as soon as he touched her shoulder, Jane startled and pushed him away. She did not scream, but her choked sobs in the dark pained Mike even more.

"Go away, Mike!" Jane whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "We cannot... I cannot look into Will’s eyes tomorrow morning if this continues. You belong to him and I do not want to be the one who steals away my brother’s only happiness."

The more Jane cried, the more she acted noble and sacrificial, and the more the rebellion in Mike’s heart rose up intensely. In that moment, something in Mike truly broke. For so many years, he had always been the "good Mike," the son who always followed his parents' expectations, the boyfriend who always tried to reciprocate Will's affection even though sometimes he felt tired and empty. He was so tired of suppressing himself, tired of always having to put others' emotions first.

"I do not care about right or wrong anymore, Jane!" Mike growled, his voice containing the fury of a teenager trying to escape his own cocoon. "I have lived for others quite enough. I do not want to be a good boy anymore. I only want you."

He did not wait for Jane to answer, stepping forward to hold her shoulders firmly and kissing her frantically. It was no longer a fearful, clandestine kiss like before, but a kiss of possession, of rebellion against reality. Jane still pushed lightly against his chest, a weak resistance that she knew full well only increased Mike's conquest instinct.

Under the dim moonlight, Jane let Mike hold her tightly. While Mike was drowning in the sense of freedom of a sinful love, Jane softly closed her eyes. She knew she had won. Mike now not only loved her, but he was also ready to burn down his own world, including Will, just to keep her. Jane’s coldness and selfishness, hidden behind fake tears, had officially turned Mike into a puppet in her hands.

Jane looked up at him with red rimmed eyes, her voice hoarse and weak:

"I still think you should go, Mike. Do not look at me like that... I am not worthy for you to worry about."

"Jane, do not say that," Mike knelt beside the bed, taking her cold hand. "The fault is mine. I could not restrain my feelings."

Jane shook her head, tears falling again, her voice choked:

"I love you, Mike. I really love you. But I also love Will. He is a part of this family. He is so gentle and sensitive... how could I be heartless enough to steal the person he loves most?"

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to swallow the pain back inside, then looked straight into Mike’s eyes with a look of pitiful resignation:

"I do not need a status. I accept standing forever in this darkness, being the good sister in everyone’s eyes, as long as Will is happy. Just... just occasionally, when you have a little free time, a tiny bit of time in your brilliant life... could you give me just a little? So that I know I am still being loved."

Jane’s words were like knives cutting into Mike’s male pride and rebellion. He saw her as heartbreakingly noble. A girl so beautiful and lovely having to beg for a few scraps of affection just because she wanted to preserve someone else's happiness. Jane’s endurance made Mike feel despicable for continuing to live in the "good boy" shell and not daring to face his own desires.

"You do not need to beg for that, Jane," Mike squeezed her hand, his voice becoming determined. "You are not the one standing in the dark. I will not let you suffer like that."

Jane smiled slightly, a painful smile, then quickly buried her head in Mike’s shoulder, hiding the cold gaze observing his reaction. She whispered into his ear:

"As long as you love me, it is enough, Mike. Do not do anything to hurt this family... no matter how much pain I have to endure, I can take it."

That fake "sacrifice" of Jane’s completely broke every last moral barrier in Mike. He held her tightly, the urge to protect and make up for this "angel" rising more intensely than ever. He had no idea that the very nobility she wore was the chain binding him to sin, making him ready to turn his back on the whole world and on Will, just in exchange for one of her smiles.

Jane was like a poison slowly seeping deep into Mike's nerves, causing his mind to be eroded and completely distorted. After that night, Jane’s "noble" words repeated over and over in his head. She said she loved him, but she was willing to stand in the dark to protect Will’s happiness. That "sacrifice" made Mike see Jane as a martyred angel, and he was the only one who could comfort her.

The more he loved Jane, the more Mike found Will's presence to be a nuisance.

Even though Mike knew how despicable he was.

The next morning, when the group gathered in the living room of the Hopper Byers house, Will sat down next to him and gently placed his hand on the back of Mike’s hand. Out of habit, it was an affectionate gesture, but Mike immediately flinched his hand back as if he had just touched fire. He pretended to be busy looking for a game piece, leaving Will with his hand hanging helplessly in mid-air.

"Mike, are you okay? You look tired," Will asked worriedly, his gentle eyes containing pure concern.

"I am fine, Will. Can you stop asking that over and over?" Mike snapped, his cold voice making both Dustin and Lucas freeze and exchange glances.

The atmosphere suddenly became awkward. Jane, who was sitting in the corner of the room reading a book, slightly looked up. She said nothing, but her gaze appeared both pained and as if she were begging Mike to "restrain" himself. It was that very look that made Mike even more infuriated. He felt it was unfair for Jane; why did she have to endure this secrecy while Will could publicly express his affection?

Throughout the entire evening, Mike became blatantly indifferent. Whenever Will tried to start a conversation or say something humorous, Mike only responded with blunt answers or a weary sigh. He felt that Will’s sensitivity, something he once considered precious, was now weak and annoying.

When it was time to leave and only the two of them were at the door, Will hesitantly grabbed the hem of Mike’s shirt.

"Mike... did I do something wrong? If it is about the game, or if I said something that made you angry..."

"You did nothing wrong, Will. It is just that you like to over-dramatize everything," Mike coldly brushed Will’s hand away. "I need my own space. You understand that, right?"

Looking at Will’s figure standing frozen under the streetlight, his shoulders trembling slightly, Mike felt a fleeting moment of regret. But then the image of Jane sobbing last night, the image of the petite girl accepting to "stand in the dark," surfaced again. He deluded himself into thinking he was doing the right thing, that he was protecting a more intense love.

He did not know that, behind the upstairs window, Jane was standing and watching it all. She saw the rift between the two of them and felt a burning satisfaction.

Mike walked through the night, his heart overflowing with the desire to run to Jane, to "share" that tiny bit of time she had humbly asked of him. He was ready to give her everything, even if it meant trampling on the heart of his best friend who was also his boyfriend.

Chapter 9: The Hunter and the Prey

Chapter Text

Monday morning at Hawkins High School, today did not seem to be Will’s lucky day. He clearly felt Mike’s distance, but his gentle heart still tried to find ways to make excuses for his boyfriend. Will told himself perhaps it was due to academic pressure or because he was being too sensitive.

During recess, the group gathered by the familiar row of lockers. Mike was busy rearranging a stack of books, his face clearly showing signs of fatigue and irritability. Just as Mike pulled his jacket from the locker, a small pale pink object fell from the pocket, lying quietly on the crowded hallway floor.

Will quickly picked it up. It was a velvet hair tie with a small pearl attached in the middle. Will’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. He recognized it immediately. This was the hair tie Jane frequently wore, the very one Will had helped Joyce choose as a gift for Jane when she first moved here.

"Mike, this..." Will held up the hair tie, his voice trembling slightly. "It was in your pocket?"

Mike froze, a flash of panic crossed his eyes, but rebellion and resentment quickly took over. Before he could speak, Jane stepped forward from behind, the smile on her lips nonchalant and pure. She gently took the tie from Will’s hand.

"Oh, it is mine! Thank you, Will," Jane said, her tone natural as if nothing had happened. "I must have dropped it into Mike’s pocket while asking him to explain some Math problems at the library yesterday. You know, the library was so crowded then, we had to sit close together to share the book."

After speaking, Jane cast her eyes toward Mike, a meaningful look that she pretended was common gratitude. She nonchalantly tied her hair up right in front of Will, her movements slow as if to let him clearly see the presence of that item on her person once again.

Will stood frozen. Sitting close? The library? Yesterday Mike told him he had to go home early to help his dad clean the basement. A tiny but sharp suspicion began to sprout in Will’s heart. Why did Mike have to lie? And why was the hair tie deep inside the jacket pocket instead of falling on the table or the floor?

"You were tutoring Jane?" Will turned to ask Mike, trying to regain his composure.

"So what? She is your sister, what is the big deal about me helping a little?" Mike snapped, his voice slightly loud, making a few passing students turn to look. "Stop acting like I just committed some terrible crime, Will. I am going mad with your interrogation!"

With that, Mike slammed the locker door spitefully and walked straight away without looking back. Jane sighed softly, placing her hand on Will’s shoulder, her voice sweet and comforting:

"Do not be sad with him, Will. It is probably because I bothered him too much that he got so frustrated. He is a good boyfriend, right?"

Jane walked away, leaving Will standing alone in the hallway behind her, her rosy lips curling into a satisfied smile. She liked the way suspicion gnawed at Will’s confidence in Mike, liked the way Mike stood up to protect her lies with an angry attitude. This was only the beginning; she wanted Will to witness his trust shattering bit by bit with his own eyes, just like the way she had seen her family fall apart.

Will looked down at his hand where the hair tie had just rested. A cold sensation ran down his spine. Everything seemed to remain the same, but the people he loved most seemed to have become strange ghosts.

Jane still remembered vividly the feeling of the first day she set foot in Hawkins. It was a grey afternoon; the town appeared before her eyes like a faded painting. Everything was too quiet; this town was so old and dull that it made her feel nauseous. When the car stopped in front of the new house where she would live, Jane stood frozen at the threshold, hiding behind her father, her suitcase at her feet, her hand gripping the strap of her handbag as if she wanted to crush it. And she understood one thing immediately: she did not belong here.

Through the living room window, she saw Joyce tenderly stroking Will’s hair, laughing and talking about a cozy dinner. And there, James, her father—the man who had been her world before the divorce shattered everything—was laughing comfortably, a smile Jane had not seen directed at her for a long time. He looked at Will with an affectionate gaze that Jane had long since stopped receiving. A perfect, warm, complete family. Jane stood there, unnoticed. She felt like a ghost, a superfluous entity thrown into the middle of a happy family portrait that she originally did not belong to.

Why? That question kept swirling in her mind. Why did Will—a person just like her, also introverted, also sensitive and wounded—have everything? Will had a devoted mother, a protective brother, and now even her father’s love. Meanwhile, Jane had only loneliness and hatred for the woman who had "stolen" her father.

And then, that moment arrived.

Jane met Mike not long after. The first time was in the living room, when Will almost rushed to embrace Mike, arms wrapping tightly, a kiss placed on Mike’s lips full of naturalness and trust, a passionate kiss of those in love. Jane stood by, observing like an outsider. Will’s eyes were tightly shut, immersed in happiness. But her gaze did not stop at Will. She looked at Mike.

With the instinct of a sharp person, always observing and doubting, she looked straight into Mike’s open eyes.

Jane saw something that no one else noticed. In those eyes, Jane did not see infatuation; she did not see an intense, burning love. She only saw a bit of hesitation, a bit of constraint, and the confusion of a teenager trying to play the role of a "lover" out of kindness rather than romantic love. A thought flashed through Jane’s head: Mike did not love Will nearly as much as Will loved him. Mike was searching for an escape; it was just that he did not know what that escape looked like yet.

Jane understood that immediately.

Growing up in a family devoid of love, a fake environment with people who only gave her attention when she pleased them, she had always judged the emotions of others in order to survive. Jane knew how to read the hidden emotions deep within everyone's subconscious. And in Mike, she saw rebellion and vibrations being suppressed by boundaries he had never dared to face. He was with Will out of habit, for safety, and because he did not want to cause hurt. Not because of desire, and certainly not because of love.

Jane’s lips curled. She realized Mike was the most perfect pawn to destroy this false peace. If she stole Mike, she would steal everything from Will. She wanted Will to taste the feeling of being abandoned, the feeling of losing the most important person to someone else, just as she had lost her father to his mother.

Since that day, Jane began to perform her play. She learned to act innocent, being close at times and distant at others to stimulate Mike's conquest instinct. She knew well that Mike’s moral boundary was a thick wall, but she also knew her clandestine kisses and her obedience would make that wall crumble.

She watched Mike sink into guilt with a silent but intense satisfaction. Every time Mike sneaked into her room, every time he snapped at Will because of her, Jane felt her hatred soothed. She did not love Mike, at least not in the way Mike thought. She only loved the feeling of holding the heart of the one Will loved most, loved the feeling of watching their world crack bit by bit under her small hands.

She acted innocent and gentle, as if everything were just an accident. Jane let Mike step forward himself, let him be confused, and let him doubt himself.

She did not do it just for Mike.

Jane hated Hawkins. Hated this house. Hated the fact that Joyce could be gentle with Will in a way her mother never was with her. Hated that James could become a real father here, but had been unable to do that for her when everything was still intact. Jane’s childhood was deprived, fragmented, and never loved.

She also did not want to destroy Mike. She wanted to destroy Will’s sense of security. Wanted to steal the thing he believed would be his forever. If she could not have a complete love, then no one in this house deserved to have one.

To Jane, Hawkins was not home. This was a chessboard, and she would not stop until everything belonging to Will was swept away.

Chapter 10: Collapse

Chapter Text

After the hair tie incident, the suspicion in Will’s heart was like a smoldering tumor, making it impossible for him to focus on anything. Jane noticed it. She knew that Will’s doubt was ripe enough; now was the time for her to pour a little more "oil" onto that flickering flame.

On Wednesday afternoon, when the group met for a study session at the Byers house, Jane had prepared a small plan. With Joyce at work and Jonathan at the newspaper office, only the three of them remained in the house. Mike and Will were sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, surrounded by books. Jane used the excuse of getting water, walking past Mike’s back; her left hand appeared to accidentally touch his shoulder, while her right hand, quick as a flash, tucked a small note between the pages of the Chemistry textbook Mike was holding open.

Everything happened in less than two seconds, but Jane knew that with someone as perceptive as Will and the suspicion smoldering in his heart, Will would not miss the brief moment she had painstakingly staged.

"I am sorry, I feel a bit dizzy," Jane said softly, her hand leaning against the edge of the table, her eyes looking at Mike with a plea for help, but her lips slightly pressed together as if wanting to say something.

Mike immediately stood up, his face overly worried: "Are you okay? Let me take you to your room to rest, okay?"

The way Mike rushed to Jane’s side, along with words spoken in such an affectionate tone, made Will feel a sharp pain in his chest.

"It is okay, I can walk myself," Jane said and then staggered away, not forgetting to leave behind an "apologetic" look toward Will.

Mike sat down, but his mind had clearly flown after Jane. He hurriedly closed the Chemistry book to tidy up, but in his haste, the note Jane had just inserted fell out, landing right at Will’s feet.

Will leaned down to pick it up before Mike could react. His heart pounded erratically as he saw Jane’s slanted, careful handwriting on the piece of paper hastily torn from a notebook:

"Last night was a mistake, but I do not regret it. Do not look at me like that in front of Will anymore, I am afraid I will not be able to restrain myself from running to hug you. Wait until he is fast asleep..."

The blood in Will’s body seemed to freeze. Each word, each single word was like a needle stabbing directly into his eyes. Last night? When he was fast asleep? The naked betrayal appeared clearer than ever.

"Give it to me!" Mike snatched the paper, his face flushed with a mixture of anger and fear.

"What is it, Mike?" Will’s voice trembled violently, he looked up at his longtime boyfriend with shattered eyes. "What did Jane write to you? Why did she write this? Why does she have to wait until I am fast asleep?"

Mike gripped the note in his hand, crushing it. The poison Jane had injected into Mike had begun to take effect. Instead of feeling remorse, Mike felt cornered, and his rebellious instinct surged.

"There you go again, Will! It is just a note about an assignment. Jane is having trouble with the new family, she just needs someone to talk to!" Mike shouted, trying to use anger to cover his embarrassment. "Why do you always have to pry and be suspicious like a morbid person?"

"Because I love you, Mike! And because I see you drifting away from me!" Will screamed, tears bursting out.

From upstairs, Jane stood in the hallway, hidden in the shadows, quietly looking down at the chaotic scene below. She raised her hand to her lips, covering a satisfied smile. She did not need to do anything more. Mike’s silence in the face of Will’s questions, and his irrational anger, was the cruelest answer for Will.

That night, the Byers house was submerged in a terrifying silence. Mike had gone home after the afternoon argument, leaving Will with a broken heart and suspicion at its peak. Seeing Jane leave her room to take a shower, Will stepped into his stepsister’s room with trembling hands. He hated himself at this moment, but he needed an answer.

He began to rummage through her things, and strangely, Jane’s diary was not hidden at all. It sat neatly on the desk, opened to a page as if waiting for him. The careful lines of writing hit Will’s eyes, making his breath hitch:

"Mike intentionally avoided looking at me today. Perhaps he is afraid Will will notice. I am afraid too... but the feeling of being near him, I really do not want to stop. As soon as Will starts to suspect, everything will collapse on its own. What should I do?"

Will dropped the notebook on the floor. The world around him spun. At that exact moment, the clicking of the door sounded. Jane stood there, her hair not yet dry, wearing a flimsy bathrobe. She did not appear surprised or afraid to see Will in her room. Instead, she leaned against the door, crossing her arms and looking at him with a half-smile full of pity.

"Did you find what you wanted, Will?" Jane asked nonchalantly, her voice as calm as if nothing had happened.

"Why?" Will choked out, holding up the diary. "Jane, why did you do this to me? I tried to welcome you into this family!"

Jane took a step forward, her gaze suddenly becoming sharp and full of provocation. She looked straight into Will’s eyes, now streaming with tears, leaned close to his ear, and whispered:

"Family? Do not be ridiculous. You think you deserve to have everything? You have a wonderful mother, a brother who always protects you, and a perfect boyfriend... But look back Will, does Mike really belong to you? Or is he with you only out of pity for a weakling like you?"

"Shut up!" Will barked.

"The truth often hurts," Jane continued, her tone becoming increasingly brazen. "Look at the way he protected me this afternoon. He did not choose you, Will. He chose to stand by me. You are just a ghost in his past."

Will’s endurance shattered. Faced with Jane’s ultimate provocation and her lack of remorse, Will lost control of himself. He swung his hand, a stinging slap landing on Jane’s beautiful face. Crack!

The slap was so hard it sent Jane falling to the floor. But in that moment, instead of pain, Jane’s eyes flashed with a spark of triumph. She had achieved what she wanted.

Jane did not hit back at all. She stood up, sobbing piteously, and then rushed out of the room, running straight out of the house into the dark night.

Half an hour later, at the Wheeler house, Mike was startled by the urgent ringing of the doorbell. When he opened the door, he saw Jane standing there, her face swollen and red, her hair disheveled, and her eyes flooded with tears. She collapsed into Mike’s arms, sobbing in fits.

"Mike... help me... Will... he hit me..." Jane choked out through her sobs.

Fury erupted in Mike’s heart. He could not believe that Will, the person he always thought was gentle, could use violence against a weak girl like Jane. Mike immediately took Jane back to the Byers house. When the door opened, Will was standing in the living room, his face still in shock.

"What the hell have you done, Will?" Mike roared, pushing Will aside to get Jane to the sofa. "You hit her? Have you lost your mind?"

Will stood up abruptly.

"You believe her?" Will asked back, his voice hoarse. "You are not going to ask me what happened?"

"I do not want to hear any more explanations!" Mike interrupted, his eyes burning with anger.

"You know nothing," Will said, desperate. "You do not see what she is doing, Mike. She is destroying..."

"Enough!" Mike shouted. "You are so jealous you have lost control, Will! I do not recognize you anymore! I thought you were a good person, but it turns out you are just selfish and violent. How much has Jane sacrificed for you, she even accepted enduring your suspicion to keep the peace, and yet you treat her like this?"

"Sacrifice? Do you know what she wrote? Do you know what the two of you have been doing behind my back?" Will screamed in despair.

"I did nothing wrong! It is your morbid jealousy that has pushed everything too far!" Mike looked at Will with eyes full of loathing, a look that had never existed in all the years they had been together.

That statement struck Will directly.

Will whispered. "You are not my Mike anymore either."

Mike turned to take Jane’s hand, his gaze shifting from anger to extreme worry. In the darkness, Jane gently rested her head on Mike’s shoulder, hiding a victorious smile.

Chapter 11: His Goddess

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The atmosphere within the group of friends began to change; no longer was it a joyful peace, but instead it grew heavy and cold like a forming blizzard. The once close knit group was now torn into two factions. Dustin and Lucas sat confused in the middle, looking at Mike and Will with worried eyes, yet no one dared to speak up.

The days of the cold war began. Mike completely ignored Will's existence. Whenever he entered the basement or the cafeteria, Mike would choose a seat as far away as possible, or if forced to sit nearby, he would erect a terrifying wall of silence. Every word from Will, whether asking to borrow a pen or discussing group plans, was met by Mike with a cold, indifferent glance.

Meanwhile, Jane remained calm. She still smiled, still chatted happily with Max about new movies, as if the slap that night and the rift in the group of friends had nothing to do with her. But that was merely an outer shell.

Jane began her sneaky provocations with actions she knew for certain would stab directly into Will's heart. During recess, Jane would stand close to Mike's locker. She would nonchalantly reach out to adjust his collar or use her fingers to tenderly smooth the strands of hair on Mike's forehead. Those gestures were meant to be "secretive," yet Jane performed them right in the middle of the crowded hallway, right before Will's eyes.

There was a time when the whole group sat in the school yard, and Jane naturally rested her head on Mike's shoulder, closing her eyes to enjoy the sunlight. Will stood there, his trembling hands gripping his backpack straps tightly, his voice choked:

"Mike... are you really letting her do that? In front of me?"

Mike did not push Jane away at all. On the contrary, he even wrapped his arm around her shoulder, squeezing lightly as an affirmation. The gaze Mike gave Will now was nothing but loathing and defensiveness.

"She is tired, Will. Stop starting that irrational jealousy again," Mike said coldly. "You already hit her once, what more do you want? Leave her alone."

Mike's indulgence made a surge of pleasure run down Jane's spine. She slightly opened her eyes, looking at Will through half closed lids. She did not need to say a single word, but her expression seemed to scream in Will's face: Look, your man is mine now. You have lost everything.

The climax was an afternoon at the Byers house. While Joyce was in the kitchen, Jane nonchalantly walked past Will in the narrow hallway. She intentionally bumped hard into his shoulder, then immediately pretended to stagger and let out a faint cry.

"Ah!"

Mike rushed out of the room instantly. He did not need to ask anything; seeing Will standing there and Jane clutching her shoulder, he gave himself the answer.

"Again, Will? Can you not stop this violent game?" Mike roared, pushing hard against Will's chest, causing him to tumble into the stack of cardboard boxes nearby.

"I did not do anything! She bumped into me herself!" Will wailed in tears, his resentment reaching its peak.

But Mike no longer listened. He helped Jane up, guiding her back to her room with a look of extreme pained concern. Jane looked back, giving Will the most brilliant and beautiful smile he had ever seen.

The youthful love that Will had once cherished was now nothing but a pile of ashes. Mike had sunk too deep into Jane's sweet trap and clandestine kisses, to the point where he was ready to trample ten years of friendship in exchange for a facade.

In the room, Jane sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders still shaking artificially. Mike knelt before her, taking those small hands that he deemed so piteous.

"I am sorry, Jane. I did not expect Will to become so terrible." Mike whispered, his voice full of remorse.

Jane slightly looked up, tears still lingering on her eyelashes, but this time she did not push him away. She reached out to caress Mike's face, then suddenly pulled him close. Right in Will's house, while Will was still sitting sobbing in the hallway, Jane took the initiative to place her lips on Mike's. It was a kiss full of defiance and possession. Mike was stunned for a moment, but the intense love he had always suppressed surged up; he responded to her frantically, disregarding the reality that his best friend, his lover, was only a thin door away.

But Jane did not stop there. She wanted a finishing blow.

When the kiss was at its most passionate, Jane intentionally dropped the desk lamp onto the floor. The loud noise startled Will outside. Following an instinct of worry, Will jumped up and rushed toward Jane's room.

"Jane? Mike? Are you two okay?"

Will pushed the door open and entered. And the world he had trusted for the past ten years officially collapsed.

Under the dim night light, Mike and Jane exchanged a burning kiss. Mike turned his head, his face flushed and his breath rapid, but instead of being panicked, he looked at Will with a gaze as cold as if he were looking at a stranger disturbing him and his lover.

"What are you doing in here? Get out!" Mike growled.

Jane did not hide at all; she rested her chin on Mike’s shoulder, looking straight at Will. This time, she no longer played the victim. She flashed a radiant smile, an openly provocative smile that was blinding. Her hands remained tightly gripped around Mike’s.

"Mike... you..." Will stammered, his throat bitter, feeling as if someone were squeezing his heart.

"You have seen it, Will. We are finished," Mike stood up, shielding Jane like a solid defensive wall. "I love Jane. I never felt like I was truly myself when I was with you. Being with you was just an obligation, a worry for a best friend because you are too weak, too sensitive. And because of the familiarity of these past 10 years. Jane is the one who makes me feel alive."

Each of Mike's words was like a knife slashing through Will's last bit of hope. Jane stepped off the bed and stood beside Mike; she nonchalantly took his hand, intertwining their fingers intimately right before Will's eyes.

"He is right, Will," Jane spoke up, her voice no longer having a trace of trembling, leaving only bluntness. "You should learn to accept it. Not everyone gets a happily ever after."

Will backed away, looking at the two people in front of him, one he had once loved more than life itself, and one he had wanted to consider a sister. He realized that the Mike he knew was dead. The friendship, the love, and the kindness in Mike had been destroyed by the poison named Jane.

Will turned and ran from the house, running into the cold Hawkins night, leaving behind Jane's faint laughter and Mike's silence. In the dark room, Jane squeezed Mike's hand tighter; she had won. She had stolen Will's most precious thing and shattered the family she hated. As for Mike, he still believed he was protecting an angel, unaware that he had just sold his soul to a demon with an innocent face.

After that fateful night, Will cried no more. The pain was so immense it transformed into a chilling, terrifying clarity. He lay in the dark room, staring at the ceiling and piecing everything together. Will knew Mike—understood his every thought and action better than anyone in the world. Mike could be impulsive, he could be confused about his feelings, but he could never become this cruel and blind in just a few short months.

There had to be a reason. Some plot hidden behind that angelic face. Will asked himself, what had he done wrong? He had never harmed Jane, never said a harsh word until he was backed into a corner. Why was she targeting him? Why did she want to tear apart the only happiness he had?

Suspicion drove Will to act. Taking advantage of a time when James and Joyce were away, Will began a silent investigation. He did not search Jane’s room, knowing she was too cunning to leave traces there. Instead, he headed toward his father's office, where James still kept old files from New York. He searched through a locked drawer containing divorce papers and Jane’s school transfer records.

Will’s hands trembled as he flipped through the yellowed pages. And then, he found it: the address of Jane’s old school in Manhattan and a small cluster of photos tucked behind. In the photos, Jane looked entirely different; she stood in the center of a group of friends, wearing heavy makeup and expensive designer clothes, radiating the power of a leader. There was no sign of the shy girl in need of protection she was playing in Hawkins.

Will decided to make secret long distance calls. It took two days to connect with Kate, a girl listed in the old yearbook. Over the phone, Kate’s voice seemed to break when she heard someone mention "Jane."

Kate had been Jane’s best friend at the high school in Manhattan before Jane moved to Hawkins.

"You are asking about Jane? You are facing a demon," Kate said in a trembling voice. "In New York, she was the center. Jane is a hunter; she always targeted those with the most power: from the principal’s son to raise her grades, to famous athletes to have spending money."

"So why did she have to leave?" Will asked, his heart pounding.

"Because I saw what she tried to hide," Kate laughed bitterly. "She built an image of a perfect, wealthy socialite to cover up the humiliating truth about her family. Jane’s mother is not some sophisticated New York lady like she claims. She is a sick woman, wasting away in a squalid social housing apartment, clinging to every cent of your father's alimony. When I accidentally saw Jane stepping out of that building in cheap clothes, she turned my life into hell. She made up stories, caused the whole school to boycott me and treat me like a mental patient. Jane could not let anyone know she was the child of a poor woman. She would rather destroy a person than reveal the truth of her origins."

Will hung up, his breathing rapid. Every puzzle piece fit together. Jane did not just steal Mike for affection; she stole Mike because she hated Will’s sense of fulfillment. She hated Joyce for taking the father she considered her only source of provision. She wanted Will to taste the feeling of abandonment, the feeling of losing all dignity and loved ones, just as she felt about herself.

Jane was a professional actress, someone ready to crush everything to achieve her goals.

Will spent the whole night in the town library, where there was an old fax machine he had asked to use under the pretext of "finding study materials." The machine hummed and whirred as white pages gradually revealed lines of text and blurred black and white images, but they were enough to make Will’s blood freeze.

Kate had kept her word. She sent Will a collection of articles from the old school’s internal magazine and snippets of rumors from New York teen forums of that time. On the pages, Jane’s face appeared sharp, with no trace of innocence. Large headlines struck Will’s eyes: "The New Queen of Manhattan," "Heart of Stone: Why do the basketball players all kneel at Jane's feet?".

There was even a detailed article about the nickname "The Boy Hunter" that the male students had given her, accompanied by a list of brief but calculating romances with the principal’s son and wealthy heirs. Kate also included a copy of a confidential disciplinary report regarding Jane being suspected of staging a mob bullying incident to get rid of a girl who dared to speak up about her true family circumstances.

Will looked at that evidence, his hands shaking violently. He did not just see a deceiver; he saw a true demon who had been trained for years in the art of destroying others.

Carrying the notes and information Kate provided, Will cycled frantically to Mike’s house in the late afternoon. He did not go through the front door; he did not want to face Mrs. Wheeler. Will rushed straight to the back entrance leading to the basement, his and Mike’s safest sanctuary for the past ten years. He wanted to scream that Mike had been tricked, that Jane was only playing with him the way she had done in New York.

"Mike! You have to listen to me, Jane is not the person you think..."

Will’s words choked in his throat.

Under the dim yellow light, on the familiar sofa, Mike and Jane were kissing passionately, their bodies entwined. Jane was sitting fully in Mike’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and Mike was so entranced that he did not notice anyone’s presence. Jane’s faint, satisfied laughter rang out between the kisses.

Will stood frozen at the final step of the stairs, the documents regarding Jane’s past scattering across the floor. In front of him was no longer Mike, the boy who protected him from bullies, but a teenager blindly drowning in a fake love. Jane slightly opened her eyes and looked over Mike’s shoulder; she saw Will. She did not startle, nor did she push Mike away. Instead, she tightened her grip on Mike, giving Will a gaze full of defiance.

Only then did Mike startle and pull apart, turning to look at Will with angry eyes for being disturbed:

"You again, Will? How did you get in here? Get out right now!"

"Mike, look! Look at what she did in New York!" Will sobbed, pointing at the faxed pages on the ground. "She is not the person you think! She is a 'Hunter,' she is just using you to get revenge on my mother, revenge on my family!"

Mike stood frozen, his trembling hand picking up the black ink stained faxes. His gaze swept quickly over the headlines, the photos of Jane in the guise of a proud predator in New York. The face of the girl leaning into his chest appeared on the pages with a sharp smile and eyes full of calculation.

The previous anger suddenly froze into a vague fear. Mike turned to look at Jane, his voice breaking:

"Jane... what is this? 'The Boy Hunter'? Manhattan High School? Who is Kate? Why do these articles write about you like a... like a fraud? Are these things... are they true?"

The basement fell into a deathly silence. Will held his breath watching the two of them, hoping Mike would wake up.

Jane remained standing there, but the fake trembling vanished as quickly as smoke. She slowly detached herself from Mike’s arms, standing up straight, lightly dusting her clothes. When she looked up at Mike, those eyes no longer held sweet innocence, only ultimate coldness and emptiness. Jane’s lips curled slightly; the smile Mike once thought was gentle now bore the cruel color of a demon.

"You want to know the truth, Mike?" Jane replied nonchalantly, her voice as calm as if discussing the weather. "Yes, it is true. All of it. I was indeed the 'Queen' of Manhattan High. I dated the principal’s son to erase my absences, made the whole basketball team spin just to get designer gifts. And Kate told you about my mother, right? About that poverty and humiliation? Yes, I did everything to escape it. I used those boys like rungs on a ladder to step higher. Is there a problem?"

Mike staggered back, the paper in his hand crushed. "So... what about us? What about you saying you loved me, that you were willing to stand in the dark for Will... was it all just an act?"

Jane laughed out loud, a bitter and contemptuous laugh. She stepped in front of Mike, her index finger lightly gliding over his chin, but that touch no longer lit a fire in him; now it made Mike feel as cold as ice.

"What do you think?" Jane stepped closer, each of her footsteps treading on the faxed pages on the floor as if treading on Mike’s self respect. She brought her face close to his, her breath still smelling of lily of the valley, but her words were full of venom.

"You should be proud, Mike Wheeler," Jane said, her voice full of the pride of a winner. "You should be honored that I chose you. Look at my list of exes; they are all principals' sons, team captains, people a hundred times more wealthy and powerful than you. In this godforsaken town, you were the best thing I could use to shatter the hearts of Will and his mother. You are just a pawn... a laughably easy pawn to control."

Mike felt as if his heart were being squeezed by an invisible hand. "You used me to destroy my friendship with Will... just because of your jealousy?"

"Exactly," Jane shrugged, her gaze showing not a hint of remorse, only cruel satisfaction. "Look at what you did to your best friend because of me. You screamed in his face, you pushed him down, you despised ten years of affection just for a few of my tears. You are the worst person here, Mike. I only offered the bait, and you bit the hook willingly."

The pain was like a knife slashing straight through Mike’s chest. He felt like a clown, a child led by the nose in a cheap psychological game. Mike looked at Will, who stood silently in the corner with eyes full of pained sympathy, then turned back to Jane, his voice choked with hurt.

"Just once, Jane... answer me truthfully. Was there ever a second, a moment where you actually loved me? Or was it all a lie from start to finish?"

Jane looked deep into Mike’s breaking eyes; her own eyes were terrifyingly empty. She remained silent for a long time, the silence stretching like centuries before she said blandly:

"Never."

She picked up her handbag and nonchalantly stepped over the pile of papers on the floor, not bothering to look back even once. The sound of Jane’s footsteps echoed steadily on the stairs, cold and decisive, leaving behind two young men with the fragments of love, friendship, and betrayal.

Mike collapsed onto the floor, his head buried in his hands. He had betrayed his best friend, had lost himself, all to exchange it for a truth that could not be more cruel: He had never been loved; he was only a tool in the hands of a heartless predator.

After that night the truth was exposed, everything should have ended. But love, or the crazy obsession that Mike called love, triumphed over pride. Mike could not let go. He accepted the truth that Jane was a liar, a ruthless "hunter," as long as he could keep her within his sight.

In a late afternoon by the lake, Mike knelt down, begging for mercy. Jane looked at the teenager who was once the pride of the Hawkins friends, now shattered because of her. Mike was broken, fragmented, and pathetic before her. But in that exact moment, Jane suddenly paused. She looked deep into Mike’s bloodshot eyes and saw a blind adoration that even the sophisticated boys in New York would never give her.

In Manhattan, people came to her for her looks, for her fake reputation, or for a game of mutual benefit. But Mike was different. He knew she was a liar, knew she was a "demon," knew she had just trampled on his heart, yet he still knelt here, offering everything left of himself just to exchange for a look from her.

Something in Jane’s frozen heart, which originally knew only hatred and calculation, flickered slightly. It was not exactly the purest form of love, but rather an overwhelming sensation toward a type of affection she had never tasted in her life—an unconditional love. For the first time, Jane felt she was not just a hunter, but a "goddess" being worshipped. The satisfaction of a predator rose up strongly, blending with a strange spark of agitation.

"You really are crazy, Mike," Jane whispered, her voice softening. She used her soft hands to lift his face, wiping away the streaming tears. "If you want to be my boyfriend that badly... then I will give you a chance."

Since that day, Hawkins witnessed the strangest couple ever. Jane was no longer as cruel or insulting to Mike as before; she treated him like a real boyfriend. She appeared publicly with him, resting her head peacefully on his shoulder during late afternoons. She allowed him to hold her hand along the school hallways, and she leaned her head on his shoulder during movie sessions. She gave Mike affectionate kisses, so sweet that he felt as if he were being blessed.

However, Jane was still Jane. She was brilliantly beautiful but free and wild; no one could truly capture her soul. There was an invisible boundary that Jane never crossed.

While Mike constantly uttered words of passionate love, hoping to warm her heart, every night, when Mike whispered into her ear, "I love you, Jane. I love you more than anything," Jane only responded with a careless caress or an enigmatic smile. She never said she loved him. To Jane, Mike was a safe harbor, someone who would care for and worship her like a treasure, but she never once uttered the three words "I love you."

This relationship was like a comfortable quagmire. Mike understood clearly that their relationship was like an opiate: beautiful on the outside but rotting within. But the tight grip of Jane’s hand or the warmth of her kiss made it impossible for him to leave. This toxicity began to destroy everything around Mike.

At the group's round table, the atmosphere now held only hostility. Dustin and Lucas could not accept a Mike who had completely changed, nor the fact that he was with the person who had publicly ruined Will. Max looked at Jane with loathing, while Jane simply sipped her drink nonchalantly, occasionally intentionally kissing Mike in front of everyone as a way of marking her territory.

"You're crazy, Mike," Dustin slammed the table and stood up during a group meeting. "You are staying with a demon! Do you see that Will is withering away day by day?"

Mike did not look up. He squeezed Jane's hand under the table. "I am happy, Dustin. That is all I care about. If you guys cannot accept Jane, then you do not need to accept me either."

The Hawkins friend group officially dissolved from this point. Dustin, Lucas, and Max could not accept a Mike who was willing to side with a manipulator to turn his back on his own brothers.

Will no longer appeared in places where Mike was. He retreated into the shadows, watching the person he loved most become an emotional slave to his stepsister.

Will sat alone in his room, hearing Jane’s laughter echoing from the hallway, mingled with Mike’s warm voice filled with unconditional love. He realized that Jane had not only stolen Mike, but she had turned Mike into a version that even Will no longer recognized.

Mike knew this love was toxic. He knew he was being manipulated, knew Jane could leave him at any time when she found a "bigger prey." But he had sunk too deep. He would rather live in a happy illusion woven by Jane than face the empty reality and guilt. He loved her beauty, loved the way she controlled his mind, and loved even the pain she dispensed.

Jane stood in the middle of that devastation, radiant and haughty. She had gained a lover who loved her to death, and she had destroyed every relationship of the family she hated. For Jane, it was a perfect end to the game. She did not need love; she only needed submission. And Mike Wheeler had offered it on a silver platter, with his entire poor soul.

Many years later, at a luxurious mansion hidden on the hillsides of Los Angeles, people often saw a tall, thin, and silent figure sitting at a typewriter facing the sea. That was Mike Wheeler, the phenomenon writer of the decade, famous for his dark psychological works filled with manipulation and destructive love. Readers admired his depth, but few knew that every word he wrote was nurtured from the fragments of the soul he had dedicated to a single woman since the age of sixteen.

And that woman, at this moment, was standing before dozens of lenses on the brilliant red carpet of the Oscars. Jane—or now the most radiant name of a Hollywood star—looked like a goddess stepping out of myth. She was so beautiful it took one's breath away, a flawless beauty that always concealed something dangerous, leaving the public both longing and fearful.

In the major headlines, they were the icon of a perfect "Power Couple." A gifted writer and a magnificent muse. People praised their enduring marriage as a fairy tale in the heart of bustling Hollywood. But in truth, their love was never a fairy tale. It was a war, a contract signed in blood and eternal loyalty.

They had left Hawkins behind like leaving an old scar. James, Joyce, and Will... all remained only as faint names in memory, pawns that had been swept off the board long ago. Jane had secured the future she had always craved: wealth, fame, and a man who worshipped her like a goddess.

One evening, after returning from a film premiere, Jane shed her expensive silk dress and stepped into Mike's study. She looked at his back, the man who had turned his back on the entire world for her, the man who had accepted her deception to turn it into the ultimate truth of his life.

Mike looked up, his gaze exactly the same as that late afternoon by the lakeshore years ago, full of blind adoration and a love with no escape. He stood up, wrapped his arms around her waist, and whispered: "Congratulations, Jane. You were the most wonderful person tonight."

Jane rested her head against his chest. After many years, after passing through so much falsehood and manipulation, after seeing Mike destroy himself for her, something in Jane had truly melted. She no longer saw him as a tool or a pawn. She looked at him and saw a part of her own flesh and blood.

"Mike," Jane called softly, her voice for the first time in years no longer carrying venom or calculation. "Do you still love me? Regardless of what I have done?"

Mike smiled, a sad but content smile. He kissed her hair, a kiss containing the resignation of a lifetime: "I told you, Jane. I have no other choice. I am yours forever."

Jane closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly. Perhaps for the first time in her life, the three words Mike had always longed for truly existed in her mind, even though she still did not utter them aloud. She loved the way he accepted the demon within her, loved the way he transformed her sins into art.

They stood there, in the magnificent yet cold villa, two toxic souls intertwined to the point of being inseparable. Ahead of them was a brilliant future, fame, and wealth. Behind them was the ashes of the past. They had won over the whole world, but the price to pay was a love that only the mad could understand.

Outside, the lights of Los Angeles still glittered, but for Mike and Jane, the only light that truly existed was the burning flame from the relationship they had chosen to live with until the end of their lives.

Notes:

At first, this story came from a desire for retaliation. But the more I wrote, the more I grew to like a manipulative, sharp Jane and a Mike who kneels at her feet. I have to admit the story is extremely dramatic, probably because I watch too many TV dramas. Still, in the end, this is just a fantasy fanfic.

I find the Mileven cheating theme quite fascinating and I want to write more about it. If any of you have interesting ideas, feel free to share them, and I can try to bring them to life within my ability.

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sevenluckyducks on Chapter 1 Sat 07 Feb 2026 04:32AM UTC

i am loving this so much omgggg thank you for writing this

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scrawls on Chapter 1 Mon 09 Feb 2026 02:53PM UTC

do you remember the other fic with a similar theme? i’ve only read milevenheaven’s fic and i’m curious abt the other one!

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1. manontargaryen on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Feb 2026 01:03AM UTC
  
  HII can u share the link of the milevenheaven’s fic I can’t find it
  
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2. 1. scrawls on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Feb 2026 10:11AM UTC
    
    here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/78918261/chapters/206993406
    
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3. Soleillim on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Feb 2026 09:16AM UTC
  
  https://archiveofourown.org/works/78671946/chapters/206294891
  
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4. 1. scrawls on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Feb 2026 10:11AM UTC
    
    thanks!
    
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adayaperson27 on Chapter 1 Thu 12 Feb 2026 04:40AM UTC

Bro I am so greatful that you wrote this fic! The delusional byler fans always make Mike cheat on El when he is canonically head over heels for her, and while I have no issue with fanfic, actually believing it will happen is crazy work. Thank you so much for writing this, and much love! ❤️

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tekyooz on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:14AM UTC

IM EATING TS UPPPPP

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 1 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:05PM UTC

IM HERE READY LETS GO CHEATING MILEVEN

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scrawls on Chapter 2 Mon 09 Feb 2026 12:54PM UTC

GAGGG

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tekyooz on Chapter 2 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:15AM UTC

this shit is so delicious

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 2 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:20PM UTC

yes yes

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tekyooz on Chapter 3 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:15AM UTC

yummy

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 3 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:53PM UTC

he is head over heels

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India_Blue on Chapter 4 Thu 12 Feb 2026 12:51AM UTC

This is a very unique plot

I like it

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 4 Fri 13 Feb 2026 11:19PM UTC

need them to start cheating now

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scrawls on Chapter 5 Mon 09 Feb 2026 02:53PM UTC

the buzz is unreal can’t wait for the rest

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Gojos_Wife143 on Chapter 5 Mon 09 Feb 2026 06:14PM UTC

Wait I could've sworn this had like 10 chapters just now-😭

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India_Blue on Chapter 5 Thu 12 Feb 2026 12:59AM UTC

While I like the plot I dont like cheating on your partner and with their step sibling at that?? However they are teenagers

And while bylers have no problem with Mike cheating on El with her stepbrother if tge tables were turned (like in this fic) El would be seen as a backstabbing homewrecker

Still this story is interesting and im glad that at least El and Will dont love each other like they do canonically which would suck even more

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tekyooz on Chapter 5 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:43AM UTC

IM IN FOR A RIDE

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 5 Fri 13 Feb 2026 11:45PM UTC

EVIL EL LETS GO

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retrofever on Chapter 5 Wed 18 Feb 2026 03:30AM UTC

LET’s GO EVIL EL

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tekyooz on Chapter 6 Fri 13 Feb 2026 10:54AM UTC

omg this is written so well im wuwuwiisiwkkwowwoowos

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elevenwheelxr on Chapter 6 Fri 13 Feb 2026 11:51PM UTC

I love how mike knows what he does is wrong but he still thinks he is not that bad lmao

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