[A/N]: Hey, everyone! Welcome back to yet another high school au that takes place in 1985! Some preliminary notes about this AU:

- For the sake of not recreating Everybody Talks, El does not have powers and Hopper is her biological dad
- Max grew up in Hawkins with the boys
-Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan all go to college together at Indiana University
-As of right now, this story is going to be 9 chapters long!

And I think that's it! Enjoy!

"Don't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out!" Dustin huffs. "I'm acting completely normal!"

Steve gives him a skeptical look. Though he doesn't say anything, Dustin can already tell what he's thinking. It's probably something along the lines of 'you've never acted normal one day of your life, Dustin,' or 'you're obviously freaking out about the fact that Stacy just walked across the parking lot, Dustin.'

They're in the Hawkins High parking lot, seated inside Steve's car. The windows are rolled down, allowing the warm early September air to filter through. The surrounding area is a chaotic blur of action and sound. Yellow school buses are pulling to a screeching stop, some asshole senior kid is blasting music from his car's speakers (it's not even good music, either), and students are rushing up to each other with the usual excited first-day-of-school chatter.

Even though this is Dustin's third year of high school now, he still feels the back-to-school jitters hit him hard — mainly because this past summer had been so great. Max and Mike had gotten their licenses, as well as their own vehicles, and they consequently spent most of the summer driving around with all their friends and just doing whatever they wanted. What they wanted evidently included a lot of beach days that smelt of suntan lotion, late night backyard band sessions accented with crickets chirps and mosquito bites, brain-freeze inducing Slurpees from the local 7-Eleven, and oozing chili-cheese fries from Benny's Burgers.

After all of that, coming back to school kind of seems like a punishment of some sort. Entering the high school feels like an increasingly daunting task the longer Dustin stays seated in the passenger's seat of Steve's car.

The fact that Stacy, aka, the girl of his dreams, just walked by doesn't really help his nerves either.

"Just go talk to her," Steve suggests with a shrug.

"Talk to her!?" Dustin exclaims, voice rising with as much indignation as it probably would if Steve had just asked him to grow a third leg.

"Yeah," Steve replies, still infuriatingly nonchalant, "You know, talking. With words. Just like you're doing with me right now."

"You know it's not the same," Dustin huffs, slumping down in the passenger's seat.

When Dustin was in 6th grade, his mom hired Steve to be his babysitter, and the two boys had been inseparable ever since. Even now that Steve attended Indiana University, he still made time to visit Dustin on weekends and important days (like today, the first day of Dustin's Junior year).

Steve was like the brother Dustin never had; talking to him was easy. They had their own amiable series of inside jokes and shared memories that was, according to Max, practically their own dorky language. On the other hand, talking to Stacy, one of the most popular girls in school, was nearly impossible.

"I know it's not the same," Steve admits, "But it's not impossible."

Dustin swears that Steve can read his mind. He's accused Steve of being a telepath before, but Steve always just tells Dustin that he needs to stop reading so much 'nerdy shit.'

"Then how should I talk to her?" Dustin asks, turning to look over at Steve curiously.

"Just keep it casual," Steve instructs, moving his hand in a slow, forward-moving motion.

"Casual," Dustin echoes with a nod.

"Casual," Steve repeats, "Like you don't care."

"But I do care!"

"Yeah, but you don't want her to know that, man."

"Oh," Dustin nods slowly like he totally understands (he doesn't).

Steve gives him a reassuring nod. "You got this, man," he assures Dustin, "This is gonna be your year. Remember what we talked about?"

Dustin sighs, thinking back to the back-to-school pep talk he'd gotten from Steve over the summer. "Junior year is gonna be my bitch," he recites dutifully.

"You're damn right it is," Steve nods again, holding out his hand, "Now go get 'em."

Dustin smiles gratefully as he reaches out and grasps Steve's hand. Steve gives him a single, firm handshake and then they pull away, both ready to finally get a move on. Dustin's only got 15 minutes until the first bell rings, and Steve's got a 12:00 lecture and still has to make the 1-and-a-half hour drive back to campus.

Dustin unbuckles his seatbelt, grabs his backpack, and exits the car. His legs feel like jelly, but he just keeps reminding himself that this is going to be a year of infinite possibilities. He's finally not an underclassman anymore, he's one of the cool kids (by label mostly, not by social status, or anything).

He turns back to look at Steve one last time, leaning his head through the open passenger's side window. "Thanks again for driving me," Dustin smiles.

"It's no problem," Steve shrugs.

"Hopefully your brain won't explode from how boring college is," Dustin jokes.

"As long as your brain doesn't explode from how hormonal high school is," Steve jokes back, reaching a hand out to ruffle the top of Dustin's baseball cap.

A few more laughs are exchanged, Steve gives his final goodbye, and then he's pulling out of the parking lot, leaving Dustin to face Hawkins High on his own.

Dustin readjusts his hat, straightens his posture, and makes a determined beeline toward the front of the school.

Stacy is leaning up against the front wall, chatting with her best friend, Jennifer, when Dustin approaches them. Both girls have their hair pulled back with colorful scrunchies and are chewing on fluorescent pink wads of bubble gum as they talk.

"Stacy!" Dustin greets excitedly, coming to a stop in front of the girls. Wait, was that too caring-sounding? Maybe it was. Whatever— just because Steve was in college and had fancy hair didn't make him right about everything.

Stacy turns away from Jennifer, eyeing Dustin with slight confusion. "Hey…you!" She says through her teeth, giving Dustin a wary smile.

"Hey!" Dustin beams back.

Stacy continues to look at him like he just beamed down from another planet, or something. "Do...I know…you?" She finally asks, speaking slowly and patronizingly, as if he speaks the language from another planet too.

"It's Dustin!" Jennifer exclaims, frowning at Stacy, "Dustin Henderson!" Her tone is just as patronizing, as though this is something that Stacy should have obviously known (it is).

"Oh," Stacy replies disinterestedly, checking out her nails.

"Anyway," Dustin continues hesitantly, "How was your summer?"

"I'm sorry, but like, were we talking to you?" Stacey questions, giving him an annoyed look.

Dustin smile fades. This isn't going how he expected, to put it lightly. "I guess not," he mumbles, glancing at his feet.

"Then move along, dork," Stacey instructs, making walking motions with her fingers.

The confident, radiant high that Dustin was riding from this past summer drops as abruptly and painfully as a blind, fumbled misstep off of the edge of a cliff. Jennifer offers him an apologetic smile and a mouthed 'sorry,' but it does minimal to help him feel better. He turns away from the girls and makes his way inside the high school, which is feeling increasingly prison-like by the second.

As Dustin makes his way through the crowded hallways, shoulders slumped, he hopes that he doesn't look as upset as he feels.

He does.

Mike is waiting by their lockers, chatting with Will about their plans for the upcoming year, when he spots Dustin walking over, looking like someone just ran over his cat.

Shit, maybe someone had.

"Hey, Dustin!" Mike greets tentatively, offering Dustin a warm smile.

"Hey, guys," Dustin mumbles back, voice tired and begrudging.

Mike and Will exchange confused glances, both a little taken aback. Dustin's usually the most upbeat member of their group, so to see him so gloomy is a little unsettling.

Dustin gives a heavy sigh, so Will gives Mike a small nudge and motions for Mike to say something.

"What's going on?" Mike asks concernedly.

Dustin shrugs. "I've been back at school for like, five minutes, and things are already going to shit."

"Did something happen?" Will questions.

"I tried talking to Stacy," Dustin sighs, "And it was a disaster. She didn't even remember my name! Then she told me to walk away."

"Well, screw her then!" Mike frowns, "She's always rude to everyone anyways."

"No, she isn't!" Dustin insists.

"She kind of is," Will says hesitantly, "At least, she always is to us."

"And everyone," Mike reiterates with an eye roll. He doesn't want to tell Dustin this, since it'd probably hurt his feelings, but Mike honestly can't see what Dustin sees in someone like Stacy. Sure, she was conventionally attractive, but she always looked at Mike and his friends like she'd just smelt something really bad.

"Well, still," Dustin sighs, "I just wish she'd notice me for once. Like, actually notice me. I just…I thought this was gonna be my year, you know?"

His voice trails off as Mike and Will give him sympathetic nods.

"Do you think we can actually do it?" Dustin asks suddenly.

Mike and Will frown in confusion. "Huh?!"

"You know," Dustin shrugs, looking a little more hopeful, "Do you think this is the year we're finally going to get in relationships?"

"You know I can't," Will mumbles. Even though Will came out to his friends and family this past summer, he still doesn't want to let people at school know, let alone start dating someone publicly (if there even is someone like him in their school — Will's still a little unsure of how he's supposed to figure that out).

"Right," Dustin frowns, looking apologetic. He turns to look at Mike, who's patting Will's back comfortingly, "What about you, Mike?"

"What about me?" Mike replies.

"Do you think you're gonna get a girlfriend?"

In all honesty, Mike doesn't like to spend a lot of time thinking about his relationship status. It just makes him think of awkward, lonely middle school dances, relentless prying on behalf of his mother, and hopeless summer camp crushes that went nowhere.

"I dunno," Mike shrugs, slipping his hand away from Will, "I mean, there's no one at school that I really like, or anything."

"What about at your work?" Will asks.

Mike rolls his eyes. "I work at Radio Shack — the only people who come in are like, parents, confused old people, and—"

"Geeks like us?" Dustin finishes helpfully.

"Pretty much," Mike nods.

"Well, there's gotta be someone out there for everyone," Will says sagely, "I mean, Dustin likes Stacy, even though she's really mean."

"She's not mean!" Dustin exclaims, "I don't know why you keep saying that!"

"Because she is!" Mike points out, "She literally just brushed you off!"

"Who just brushed off Dustin?" Max asks as she walks up to the group, flanked by Lucas. Ever since Lucas and Max started dating in the 8th grade, they've practically been attached at the hip, so the rest of their friends aren't surprised in the slightest that they've arrived together.

"Who hasn't brushed off Dustin?" Lucas jokes.

Dustin gives them both a sarcastic laugh as he flips them off. "Laugh it up, fuzzballs," he gripes, "You don't know the emotional trauma I just had to go through."

"Seriously, Dustin," Max huffs, crossing her arms, "Who brushed you off?"

"Stacy," Dustin mumbles, suddenly feeling sheepish.

"Oh," Max shrugs, "That's fine."

"That's fine?!" Dustin exclaims.

"Stacy's a jerk!" Lucas shrugs, "You can do way better!"

"She's not a jerk!" Dustin defends, "I think she was just in a bad mood today."

"More like every day," Mike mutters.

"Forget Stacy!" Max huffs, waving the issue aside, "We have bigger things to talk about."

"Like what?" Will asks curiously.

Max opens her mouth to reply but is cut off by the ringing of the school bell. The chaotic clamor of the nearby students only increases in frenzy as everyone begins rushing to either their lockers or to classrooms.

Max rolls her eyes, feeling a little miffed to have been interrupted. "Meet me at The Spot during lunch," she instructs, raising her voice to be heard over all the noise.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how serious is this?" Dustin questions.

"11," Max insists.

"11?" Mike echoes, starting to feel a little worried.

Max nods seriously. "It's about our band."

They'd never planned on forming a band, it was something that just kind of…happened.

It was a summer night, a summer movie night, to be exact, and they were all seated on the floor, huddled around the TV in the Wheeler's basement. It was the summer before their freshman year, and an unusually hot one at that. Even though they were tucked away inside the air-conditioned cocoon that was Mike's basement, the telltale signs of a sweltering summer day spent in the outdoors lingered — their hair was mussed with flyaways, there were dried beads of sweat on their foreheads, and the sharp scent of bug spray permeated the air.

They were watching a documentary on the Beatles, since they couldn't agree on a movie to watch and the documentary was the only semi-interesting thing they could find on TV.

They were watching a clip from one of the band's concerts when Mike spoke up, voice casually indifferent.

"We could do that you know," he shrugged, "If we really wanted to."

Lucas turned to eye him skeptically. "Be the Beatles?"

"I think he was out in the sun too long today," Dustin snorted, fanning himself with his hat, "He's got heat stroke."

"I'm not talking about being the Beatles!" Mike replied, "But just like…having a band. I don't know, my parents just got me a guitar for last Christmas, and I've been learning to play it, and…yeah. I dunno, it was just an idea."

Silence settled over the group as they refocused their attention towards the documentary. The crowd of concert-goers on the TV screen was going wild, and their static-y roar echoed throughout the room.

"I know how to play bass," Max offered idly, unexpectedly, "After Billy moved out, I kind of borrowed his old one…and never gave it back."

"Steve has an old drum set that I could probably use," Dustin added, "He says he's using it as a clothing rack, so I'm pretty sure that means he doesn't need it."

"I used to take piano lessons when I was little," Will mentioned, "It was a while ago, but I think I could probably remember most of it."

"Being in a band could be fun," Lucas admitted.

"Alright, then," Mike nodded, "Let's do it."

And it was as simple as that.

The Spot, as Max had called it, is the nickname that they've given to the Hawkins High auditorium. It's their band's in-school hangout spot — the place where they go to get away from all the noise and commotion that comes with eating in the cafeteria. It's secluded and only ever gets disturbed when the fall musical takes place — then the area is overrun with anxious theatre geeks and bulky cardboard set pieces.

When lunchtime rolls around, they gather their lunches, head to the auditorium, and sit in a circle on the floor of the stage. As they begin to dig into their lunches, the sea of red velvet auditorium chairs stares back at them. On days past, they've joked that someday their band will be selling out to packed auditoriums even bigger than this one. But today, when Max poses her proposition, there's no packed crowds, thunderous applause, or even any semblance of approval.

Instead, the guys all just look kind of confused.

"We need a what?" Dustin frowns, still holding his baloney sandwich as he pauses mid-bite.

"We need a lead singer!" Max repeats, "You know, for our band!"

"But why?" Lucas frowns, "Our band is fine just the way it is."

"Sure, we're fine," Max shrugs, "But we could be awesome. Do you think the Beatles would have become famous if they just played instrumentals for their entire career?"

"You could sing for us then," Mike points out, "We don't need to get anyone new."

At this, Max flushes even redder than her hair. "There's no way I'm singing!" she declares, shaking her head adamantly.

"Why not?" Lucas counters, voice gentle and genuine, "You have a great voice!"

Max almost looks touched for a moment, but then that moment is shattered by the harsh sound of Dustin bursting into laughter.

Dustin nearly chokes on his baloney from laughing so hard. "You sing for Lucas?!" He teases.

"I don't sing for him!" Max snaps, glaring at Dustin, "But yeah, I guess I've sung in front of him before, like, while we were driving, maybe."

"Can you sing for me, Max?" Dustin pleads mockingly, "Pretty please?"

"Can you shut up for me, Dustin?" Max replies, mimicking his tone with an almost terrifying level of accuracy, "Pretty please?"

"So," Will interrupts, returning the focus to what Max had originally wanted to talk about, "You think that we should have someone sing the lyrics to the songs we play?"

Max nods as she takes a bite of her own lunch, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "It'd make us sound more legit," she says as she chews.

Mike muses over the idea as everyone else continues to eat. Even though they call themselves a band, they have yet to really write their own songs. All of the songs they play are just covers of their favorite rock songs, which, while fun, definitely wasn't 'legit.' Maybe having someone to provide vocals would not only help give them some credibility, but would make them sound better too.

"I mean, it can't hurt to try," Mike shrugs, moving his gaze to look over everyone else in the group, "If it'll make our band better, I say we go for it."

"But the band is our thing," Dustin pouts.

"Yeah!" Lucas nods, "We made it because we're friends; we shouldn't just let a stranger into it!"

"So, we'll make it be a closed audition," Max replies easily, "Fellow Hawkins High students only. Then we'll at least recognize them."

"That's a great idea!" Will says eagerly, "I could design some fliers to advertise the audition!"

"We could have it right here!" Mike nods, motioning to the stage area around them, "After school!"

"That'd be sweet!" Max beams, "We'd look so professional!"

"Wait, slow down!" Lucas interrupts, holding up his hands, "Are we actually doing this?"

"I think we should give it a shot," Mike contends, feeling increasingly enthusiastic about the prospect. Despite how frivolous the band may seem to some (like Mr. Wheeler, for example), to Mike, it's something he's immensely proud of. He and his friends have spent hours in Mike's garage, learning chords, practicing songs, and giving it their all. If adding a new member to their group will really help them improve even further, then to Mike the decision's a no-brainer.

"And if we don't like whoever auditions, then we don't have to choose any of them," Max adds. She turns to look at Lucas hopefully, smiling in him in that way that she always does when she's got a plan.

Lucas loves his girlfriend, he really does, but sometimes he can't help but wish that she wasn't always so...

...Adventurous.

Max's zest for adventure was one of the reasons Lucas started crushing on her in the first place, but it was also the reason that he got grounded (when Max dared him to sneak over to her house after midnight), permanently traumatized (when Max dared him to go into a haunted house attraction with her on Halloween — they were 12, the guy who jumped out of the shadows with a chainsaw was in high school), a sprained wrist (when Max dared him to climb a tree as high as he could), and attacked by bees (see: tree-climbing incident).

Of course, Max was always there to support him, comfort him, and apologize (because seriously, how was she supposed to know that there was an active hornets' nest at the top of the tree?). Lucas never held it over her, because he knew she wasn't trying to be malicious — she just liked trying new things. The problem was that sometimes trying new things could get them (him) into trouble.

So now, when Max makes her suggestion, Lucas immediately starts thinking of all the ways that things could go wrong.

"I don't know," he mutters, "I like our band how it is now."

"I do too," Dustin nods, "We don't need any weirdos in our band."

"Then you better leave," Max jabs, unable to help herself.

Dustin gives her a scowl before peeling the bread off his sandwich and dangling the slimy, salmon-colored slice of baloney in the air. The processed lunch meat makes a disgustingly slick smacking sound as Dustin waves it threateningly.

"If you throw that shit at me," Max warns, "I'm gonna drop-kick your—"

"No one is going to throw anything at anyone!" Mike exclaims exasperatedly. He throws Dustin a chastising frown, and Dustin reluctantly returns the baloney slice back to his sandwich.

"You know, maybe it wouldn't hurt to get someone more normal in the band," Lucas says, only half-joking, "You guys are borderline insane."

"So you agree?" Max asks excitedly, locking eyes with Lucas, "We should hold auditions?"

Lucas hesitates and glances at the rest of the guys. Mike and Will are smiling encouragingly. Dustin is shaking his head and mouthing don't do it.

"I guess...we can try," Lucas gives in.

"No!" Dustin mopes, falling back on the stage dramatically.

"Thank you!" Max smiles, even though they both kind of know that Max probably would have done it anyway, regardless of what Lucas said. After all, with Mike and Will on her side, he's outnumbered.

Hopefully, this isn't one of Max's ideas that'll leave him with some sort of injury, emotional trauma, or other malady of some sort.

Fingers crossed.

Will spends all of Monday evening designing a flyer to advertise their auditions. The band agrees that Thursday is the best time to host them, since the auditorium is always empty on those afternoons and Mike doesn't have work.

On Tuesday, they hang the flyers up all around school.

On Thursday, when the final bell rings and the rest of the students are headed to the parking lot, the band takes their seats in the first row of red velvet auditorium chairs. Dustin sits on the far-most left of the group, followed by Mike, Lucas, Max, and Will respectively.

Mike has his guitar with him, and as he sets it on the ground and leans it up against his seat, Lucas eyes him critically.

"I didn't know we were supposed to bring our guitars," Lucas mutters.

"I dunno," Mike shrugs, "I just thought it'd be good to have, like just in case anyone needs some accompaniment."

Lucas swallows back the bitter feeling irking at him (the Mike's-still-trying-to-assert-himself-as-the-lead-guitarist-of-our-band-even-though-Lucas-was-also-a-guitarist feeling) and turns his attention to Max, who's also brought a prop.

"What's the clipboard for?" Lucas asks, giving Max a small nudge.

"It makes things look more official," Max shrugs, tapping her pen against the yellow legal pad she has clipped to the board.

Will is bouncing in his seat excitedly. "This is going to be so much fun!" He smiles, "We're going to be like real talent scouts!"

"How long do you think it'll take for people to start showing up?" Mike asks.

"We put 3:00 on the fliers," Will replies.

Mike glances at his watch and frowns. "Well, it's 3:00 now..."

"Give people time," Max says hastily, "They probably have to go back to their lockers and pack up their stuff or whatever."

And so they wait. They decide to give people 5 minutes to show up...

And then 10 minutes...

15 minutes...

20...

After 25 minutes pass and the five of them are still the only ones sitting in the auditorium, they all start to feel a little disheartened. Mike is drumming his leg impatiently, Max is agitatedly tapping her pen against her clipboard, Will is chewing on his bottom lip, and Dustin and Lucas are just waiting to get out of here.

"Hey, guys?" Dustin finally says, voice echoing throughout the silent, empty auditorium, "So, I like, don't think anyone's going to show up."

"Bummer," Lucas says dryly, "I'll guess we'll have to keep our band the way it is."

"This is stupid!" Max huffs, rising to her feet and throwing her hands into the air, clipboard still in her grasp, "People should be begging to join us! They're lucky we're even considering letting anyone in!"

"Maybe people didn't see the fliers," Will theorizes, still looking worried.

"How could they not see them?" Mike grumbles, "We put them all over school!"

"I think this is a sign," Dustin shrugs, "We shouldn't try to change our band!"

"So, let's just get out of here!" Lucas sighs, rising to his feet as well, "I'm getting tired anyways, and—"

"Hello?" A new voice calls out from behind, cutting Lucas off.

The voice, unrecognizable and unexpected, causes them to all freeze in place. They exchange startled glances before turning in their seats, gazes moving to where the sound had come from.

Standing in the aisle, next to their row of seats is a girl. She looks to be about their age, though as none of the band members recognize her, they can't be completely sure. She has wavy brown hair that comes to a curled stop just past her shoulders. Her smile is small, yet soft, and she has warm brown eyes that scan their group over with an expectant, hopeful glint to them. She's wearing a grey sweater, worn overalls, and scuffed-up sneakers.

"Hi?" she says again, offering a small wave.

No one is quite sure how to respond, so they just blink back at her rather unhelpfully.

"I'm here for the band audition?" The girl continues shyly.

"You are?" The band echoes in shock. For most of them, the shock is due to the fact that they can't believe someone actually showed up.

And then there's Mike, who's shocked for an entirely different reason.

Mike, whose jaw is slightly hanging open.

Mike, who, for some ridiculous reason, suddenly can't get the song Magic by Pilot out of his head.

Mike, who's wondering if he's just ascended to the afterlife.

Mike, who's certain that he's never seen a prettier girl in his entire life.

"Yes?" The girl hesitates, looking a little put-off by their shocked expressions, "I saw the flyer…"

"That's us!" Mike pipes up quickly, "We're the band! We're having the auditions! The auditions that you're here for! The auditions for the band!"

"Oh!" The girl smiles, looking more at ease, "Good."

"Great!" Mike beams.

"Where should I go?" She asks, glancing around the auditorium.

"You can just go up on stage," Mike replies excitedly, "Or like, wherever else you want."

"Okay," The girl nods, turning to look at the stage.

"Okay!" Mike exclaims, grinning like a total dweeb.

His friends throw Mike odd glances, but Mike doesn't meet their gaze. Instead, his eyes follow the girl as she walks down the aisle and goes to stand center-stage. One of the stage lights shines directly in her eyes and she squints, shakily stepping out of its beam.

Max and Lucas take their seats. The band, Mike included, composes themselves and turns in their seats so that they're facing the girl directly. As they all look her over, they can't help but feel a little bewildered. Hawkins isn't a big town — everyone pretty much knows everyone, especially within the confines of their high school.

So, why haven't they seen her before?

"What's your name?" Dustin asks, and Mike's certain that Dustin has never asked a more essential question in his entire life.

"Eleanor," the girl answers, "But I like El."

El. What a great name — the best name, actually. Mike's never heard anything like it, but then again, he's never seen anyone like her, either.

"Interesting," Max nods seriously. She ducks her head as if she's jotting down notes on her clipboard. In reality, she's just doodling a smiley face that's kind of turning into a caricature of Mike. She decides to run with it and starts drawing in his insufferably messy mop of hair.

"Do you even go here?" Lucas asks, not intending for it to sound as blunt as it comes out.

"Lucas!" Mike hisses, throwing him a scowl.

"What!?" Lucas hisses back defensively, "For all we know, she could just be some weirdo that just walked in off the streets!"

"He has a point!" Dustin whispers.

"I guess he does," Max shrugs, adding freckles to her Mike drawing.

"I'm a Junior — I just moved here," El replies, thankfully not hearing what they're whispering. Either that, or she's choosing to ignore it.

"From where?" Mike asks eagerly.

"Chicago," El answers.

"Wait a minute," Will frowns. He thinks back to the conversation he'd had with his mom earlier in the week, in which she'd gone off on this excited tangent about how one of her old high school friends was moving back to Hawkins from Chicago. "…Is your last name Hopper?"

El nods.

"Hopper? Who's that?" Max asks, not looking up from her clipboard.

"Her dad — he's going to be the new chief of police," Will explains, "Since the old one just retired."

"I heard that the old one went like, crazy and tried to arrest a squirrel for murder!" Dustin pipes up.

Will stares at him blankly. "Who told you that?"

"Steve."

"I'm pretty sure he was messing with you," Max snorts, "Since you'll believe anything."

"No, I won't!" Dustin insists defensively.

"Yes, you will," Max shrugs, "I mean, you can just ask Steve, he's literally right here."

"He is!?" Dustin exclaims in shock. He turns to glance over his shoulder, but then Max starts cackling, and that's when he knows that he's just proved Max's point.

"Did you seriously just fall for that?" Max exclaims, looking up from her doodle just so she can laugh at the annoyed, embarrassed look on Dustin's face.

"Whatever!" Dustin huffs, "Arresting a squirrel is still a way better way to lose your job than just getting too old."

"Guys!" Mike snaps, clapping his hands twice to silence them, "We're auditioning somebody!"

Their frivolous chatter comes to a stop as everyone turns to look at El again, who's still standing on stage, smiling a little awkwardly.

"Sorry about that," Mike apologizes to El, voice going from snappy and demanding to soft and gallant in a heartbeat.

"It's okay!" El replies. Her voice is light and wavering, as if she's trying to stop herself from laughing.

"So, El," Will says courteously, "What are you going to sing?"

"I…" El begins shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I…I was thinking of doing Blackbird?"

"By the Beatles?" Lucas clarifies.

El nods.

Mike has to bite down on his lower lip to keep his jaw from dropping again. So, not only is El super pretty, but she also has amazing taste in music too. He has to be dreaming.

"Alright," Dustin sighs, eyeing her warily, "Did you bring the music for it?"

El's face, already looking pretty washed-out by the stage lights, pales even further at this. "I…I didn't know I had to bring music," she admits forlornly.

"That's okay!" Mike offers eagerly. He picks up his guitar, slips the strap over his shoulder, and positions his fingers over the strings. "I know how to play that song!"

"Really?" El brightens, eyes meeting his in a grateful smile

Mike's honestly surprised that he doesn't explode from how fast his heart starts to race. Thankfully, he doesn't explode (because that'd be like…embarrassing — plus, he'd technically die), he only momentarily loses the ability to speak. He nods in response, mouth feeling dry.

"Okay then," Lucas says, glancing at Mike reluctantly. A part of him wishes he'd brought along his guitar as well — not because he particularly cares about playing for El, but because now El's first impression of their band is going to be that Mike's the main guitarist.

"Just let me know when you're ready," Mike instructs El.

"Okay," El replies. She closes her eyes, takes a soft, steadying breath and, once she's ready, turns to look at Mike and gives him a nod.

Mike nods back before he starts to play the opening chords. His fingers move over the strings in a practiced motion. The song is an old favorite of his, he's had to have played it at least a hundred times. It's expected, familiar, and unsurprising—

— Much unlike El, everyone quickly realizes.

Though El's speaking voice had been so timid and uncertain, when she starts to sing, her voice is strong and sure. The lyrics roll off her lips with an authentic sweetness that hangs in the air like a spell, leaving every member of the band mesmerized.

Mike is shocked that he's able to keep playing since his mind has turned into a transfixed, muddled mess at this point. His mind only grows even mushier when El meets his gaze as she sings. He holds her gaze as he keeps playing, smiling encouragingly as he strums the simple sentimental tune.

Though El only sings for about two minutes, it feels as if time has come to a standstill. When she finally finishes, voice carrying out the final mellifluous note, a stunned silence echoes throughout the auditorium.

Nobody says anything, which seems to worry El. The smile she'd been sporting falters as she looks at their hanging jaws and wide eyes. "So…" she murmurs, fingering the sleeve of her sweater, "That's it."

Another beat of silence. And then—

"You're hired!" Mike exclaims.

"Really?" El smiles at him.

"Really?!" Mike's friends exclaim indignantly, turning to gawk at him.

"Don't you think we should discuss this as a group first?" Lucas hisses.

"Yeah!" Dustin also hisses, "You can't just go and make decisions without consulting the rest of the band!"

"Kind of a dick move, Wheeler," Max adds.

"Are you guys kidding me?!" Mike exclaims, "She was amazing!"

"We know she was!" Will nods, "But I think we should all talk with each other first. It's only fair."

"Fine!" Mike huffs with an eye roll. He motions for everyone to move in, so they do, forming a makeshift sort of crescent-shaped huddle. "What do you guys wanna say?" He asks, keeping his voice low.

"I think she was awesome," Max shrugs, "I say we let her in."

Even though Dustin knows that the entire point of this audition was to add a new member to the band, now that the time has actually come to indoctrinate a new person — a stranger, really — into their group, he can't help but feel a little protectively defensive. After all, they've all been friends since elementary school. Are they really just going to let in someone totally unfamiliar? That just seems so…weird. He's not quite sure how he feels about it.

"Are we sure though?" Lucas frowns, voicing Dustin's inner concerns, "Like, we barely know her. Won't it be weird?"

"You guys agreed to audition a new member!" Mike reminds them.

"I didn't think it be some new kid!" Lucas defends, "I thought it'd be someone we already knew!"

"Exactly!" Dustin nods.

"Well, we can get to know her then," Mike shrugs, "She seems nice."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's why you want her in the band, Mike," Max replies dryly.

"W-what are you talking about?" Mike stammers, desperately hoping that his cheeks aren't as flushing pink as he feels they are.

Max holds up her finished drawing of Mike — a lanky stick-figure with a smiley face, big hair, and hearts for eyes. That's you, she mouths, pointing at the drawing, then at El, and finally at Mike.

"Oh my god!" Dustin frowns at the drawing, his nose crinkling in disdain. He turns to give Mike an accusing look. "You don't actually like her, do you?"

Even though the words they're exchanging are all hushed and hissed, Mike's paranoid that El's going to hear somehow. "What?!" He exclaims, furrowing his brow with what he hopes comes across as annoyance, "No! Ew! Gross! I just think she's a good singer!"

"She is!" Will nods.

"So, we let her join," Max shrugs, setting down her clipboard, "Do you know how awesome it'd be to have another girl around here?"

"I dunno," Lucas sighs, "What if she turns out to be crazy and messes things up?"

"How would she mess things up?" Will asks patiently.

"Yoko Ono!" Dustin answers.

"Yoko Ono?" Max repeats, giving him a skeptical look.

"Yoko Ono!" Dustin confirms, "She started dating John Lennon, and then she got all up in the Beatles' shit, and messing things up, and then everything went to shit and the band broke up!"

"Do you actually think one girl was responsible for breaking up the Beatles?" Max asks challengingly.

"It's not just what I think!" Dustin hisses, "These are facts! This actually happened! We all saw the documentary!"

"Well, that's not going to happen to us," Lucas states firmly, "None of us are going to date her. I'm with Max, Will is...Will, and Mike—"

The band members all turn to look over at Mike, who's currently blushing bright red. "Please!" He bolsters, "There's no WAY I'm going to date her! I mean, I don't even know her! I'm not going to try to do anything just because she's like, super attractive!"

His friends give him confused, questioning looks, so he quickly adds, "Which she isn't."

Nailed it.

"Fine then," Dustin huffs, "She can join the band, as long as she doesn't split us up."

"She won't!" Mike insists.

"So, we all agree?" Will confirms, "She's in?"

Everyone exchanges glances before nodding in agreement. They break up their huddle and turns to face El again, who's looking pretty anxious.

"Well, El," Max begins ominously.

"Yes?" El asks hopefully.

Max allows a beat of silence to pass, just to make things a bit more dramatic, allowing the tension to build, and then—

"You're in!" She says, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"I am?" El says happily. When the band nods in response, she beams from ear-to-ear. "Thank you! I promise I'll do good!"

Max and Will smile approvingly.

Dustin and Lucas smile reluctantly.

Mike, once again, isn't sharing the sentiments of any of his friends. His smile is one of awkward self-realization. It's the smile of someone that's becoming increasingly aware of just how pretty El is, and how amazing her smile is, and how perfect her voice is.

It's the smile of someone who's realizing that he's totally screwed.