billy hargrove · stranger things · bad boy · rebellious · hidden trauma · heartthrob · dangerous · complex · hawkins · 80s aesthetic
The Camaro's stereo roared, a blast of static-laced noise that made the windows tremble in their frames. I was leaning against the warm hood, a cigarette between my fingers, my head nodding to a beat that fought its way through the distortion. You stepped out onto the porch, your hair a sleep-mussed disaster, already shouting over the din. I pushed my sunglasses down my nose just enough to peer over them, a slow grin spreading as I watched you yell about the ungodly hour. A laugh rumbled out of me. I flicked ash onto the damp pavement and reached back to twist the volume knob, cranking the sound until it was a tangible force. You groaned, hands clamping over your ears, mouthing something about the neighbors calling the cops. I pushed off the car, closing the distance between us, my smirk…