Steve found the invitation in his locker after class one Friday in mid-December, jammed up into the grating of the front panel so tightly he hadn't even noticed it. It had almost gone unnoticed entirely until Steve shut the door, where it fell free from the metal plating and fluttered down to the ground in a graceful, see-sawing motion. Thinking it to be a love note or something, he picked it up hastily, but read it over with a frown.

It had held no name, no confession, and hadn't even been hand written. In fact, the only thing that had been hand marked on the note was a crude looking map that had been drawn out below the address of a party he'd evidently been invited to. Two long, horizontal marks made with black ink indicated a road, and branching off of it into a bunch of poorly drawn trees was a dotted arrow leading to an 'X'.

Steve looked around the hallway suspiciously after having read it over, as if the person who'd slipped it into his locker would still be conspicuously standing around to ensure that he'd received it. The hall was practically empty, though; no one was paying him any attention as he re-read the card. Flipping the note over, he saw that a big, glossy '+0' mark had been embellished on the back.

Of course he'd thought it suspicious; no kid in Hawkins High was this creative. Every student there came from the same breed of stock in terms of creativity, but with nothing better to do with his weekend he'd decided what the hell, why not. Worst case scenario, he didn't like what was going on and left. Best case it was an actual party, and he hadn't been to a good once since Halloween; King Steve was raring to get back into the scene.

He slipped the note into his pocket after reading it a third time, noting that the party was being held that Saturday. For the first time in a while, he actually had something to look forward to and was glad he hadn't volunteered his babysitting services for the weekend.

The rest of his day was then spent studying a map, making sure memorized both the route and the address so he wouldn't get lost on the way. He was dismayed to learn that the mysterious party was being hosted on the outskirts of town, close to where the farmers earned their keep. A chill went down his spine at the realization, a nervous bout of sweat greasing his palms as he stared at the location on the map, caught in a moment of reliving the horror.

His incident with the pumpkin patch and the secret tunnels it harbored were still fresh in his brain, but he'd driven out there all the same, doing his best to ignore his gut feeling that something about this was wrong. It wasn't until he'd parked in line with a few other cars on the side of the road that he thought he probably should have told someone where he was going.

As he left his car and buried himself deeper into the confines of his coat, part of him wanted to bring the bat he now kept stored in the trunk of his car (just in case, always just in case) with him, but knew he couldn't show up with the unwieldy thing in his hands. He was glad at least that he'd had the foresight to bring a flashlight, as the sun had already set. Clicking it on, Steve pulled the invitation out of his pocket and studied the little map before shining the beam into the trees.

"This'd better be good," he muttered, repressing a shiver as the wind blew past. His light found a pair of footprints leading away into the woods, and as he regained his nerve, he followed in after them.

The little map on the note was of absolutely no help. There were no indications of how far he was meant to walk from the road to reach the 'X', and this had Steve running his hands through his perfectly styled hair over and over again until he finally caught snippets of sounds and voices in the distance. He quickened his pace and almost tripped over a root buried in the snow, and that was how King Steve made his grand appearance by stumbling into the party.

All things considered, the party in the woods was actually kind of nice. Yes, it was outdoors, and yes, there were a few inches of snow covering the forest floor, and yes it was technically freezing- but it was quiet. It was peaceful; it was the escape he hadn't known he was looking for. There was a bonfire roaring that had been started well before he'd actually showed up, and the strong, powerful crackling noises it made were almost loud enough to drown out the asshole who'd brought an acoustic guitar.

Almost.

It wasn't the sort of thing Steve was used to attending, but normality was a hard sought dream that he'd been trying to chase for the better part of a month with very little success.

But there was plenty of free beer for everyone, stuck into rounded mounds of snow around a foldout table someone had set up. On top of that was a stack of red Solo cups and a large bowl of some sort of mysterious punch. It was a party alright, but definitely wasn't a rager.

After he'd recovered from his embarrassment of literally stumbling out of the woods and into the light of the fire, Steve had pried a cup off the top of the stack and scooped it into the bowl. He was two drinks down before he decided to try talking to anyone who was there, but no one he spoke to could answer any of the questions he had. Either they didn't know or were withholding the information from him, but the pleasant buzz he was nursing didn't allow him to think about it too hard.

The only thing he had learned about the gathering was that it was apparently a weekly occurrence and had been going on for at least a month prior to an invitation being sent his way. The location changed every week, and the only way to know where they were going to be held was to know a guy who knew a guy who knew, and that was how they'd been able to keep the parties relatively low-key and off the map.

Knowing that made him feel a bit better about the whole ordeal. The fact that he'd been invited at all came as no surprise to him, since, well, he knew everyone-

Except for most of the people who were there, apparently. A fair majority of the people in attendance were older than he was, prompting him to believe that it must have been some sort of college party, which explained how he didn't know who the hell was hosting the damned thing.

Seated in a foldout lawn chair a few feet away from the fire, Steve finished off his third drink and was getting up to grab another when Billy showed up.

Steve's face had healed without issue from the pummeling he'd received from his hands, but when he saw Hargrove saunter up to the fire, wandering in from the gloom of the woods like some sort of tan, winter specter, a phantom pain in his cheek had him rubbing at it irritably.

Billy hadn't noticed him yet, giving him time enough to quickly scoop up another cupful of the drink on the table and retreat to the darkened edges of the woods where the bonfire's light could barely reach. He'd been enjoying the tranquility of the party up until Hargrove had shown up, and wasn't ready to risk losing that feeling yet.

The bonfire was tall, and managed to illuminate everything in its radius fairly well. The man with the acoustic was set up in its circle of warmth, and Steve found himself beginning to shiver now as he had removed himself from the fire's immediate comfort. He sipped at his drink in the shadows, leaning against the trunk of a tree and wondered what the fuck Billy was even doing there.

This wasn't a party for people like him. It wasn't a rowdy get together for a bunch of horny teens, and it didn't promote the need to be excessive, despite the fact that there seemed to be a bunch free drinks literally just lying around, barely buried in the snow. This was a gathering for the 'Johnathans' of Hawkins and the exiled king of Indiana; a place where Billy certainly didn't belong.

There was no keg, no dancing, and no music, save for that motherfucker fingerpicking a tune by the fire. There were hardly even any women, and the few that were there were already with a guy of their choosing, and even then, most of those couples had already left. But there Billy was regardless, exhaling a large plume of smoke as his boots crunched loudly through the snow and towards the fire.

His eyes scanned the gathering curiously, chin raised just slightly as he ascertained whether or not anyone of interest was actually there. If it turned out that he'd driven all the way out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere to then freeze his ass off wandering around the woods alone at night trying to find the damned party, he was going to be pissed. Which to say he wasn't already, but as he looked around, squinting to make out faces in the fire's flickering light, he found he didn't actually recognize anyone.

"Buncha artfags," he muttered, losing some of the pompous swagger he'd walked in with.

Flicking his cigarette away into the snow, he made his way to the table and saw the beers poking up from the snow and crouched down low to pick one up. He popped the top with his teeth and nearly downed the thing in one go.

Similar to Steve's experience, he had also found a note in his locker the previous day. Billy hadn't thought much of it, and had almost thrown it away before Tommy began lamenting to him about how he hadn't gotten an invite. He didn't care much for the mysterious aspect of it, but did like the idea of going to something exclusive for once, and reveled in the idea of having been hand-picked to attend.

Looking at the others who had also apparently made the cut, Billy found himself scoffing. He'd never be caught dead socializing with most anyone who was there, but hey, a free drink was a free drink and he'd already used the gas to drive out there. Tossing his empty bottle off into the woods aimlessly, he grinned when he heard the glass break against a tree. He bent down to grab up another one, and as he rose up from the snow, he saw the bonfire light up a silhouette of hair molded up into a long and messy quiff. He turned to get a better look, and there, lurking in the shadows he met Steve Harrington's gaze.

"Fuck," Steve mumbled, turning away as Billy shot a leering grin his direction. He exhaled a heavy sigh and steeled himself as best he could by chugging down the rest of whatever the hell was in his cup in one long gulp. He could physically feel the good mood he'd built up begin to leave him.

Seeing this made Billy chuckle lowly to himself. Perhaps this excursion into the woods hadn't been a waste after all. He drank from his beer greedily before stalking towards where Steve was lurking, dethroned and outcast. The sight of him hiding, yes hiding from him in the shadows brought him more warmth than the fire's heat did.

"Harrington," he purred, sauntering up to him with his chest puffed out and head cocked to the side.

"Hargrove," Steve said tensely, pointedly making an effort to not meet his eye.

Billy's tongue darted out to lick over his lower lip for a moment, relishing the way Steve was doing his best to ignore him. The two of them stood together in silence for a moment, with Steve pretending Billy wasn't looking at him like he'd already won a fight that hadn't been started yet.

"Can you believe that guy?" Billy said after a minute, prompting Steve to finally turn to look at him.

Billy nodded his head towards where the guitarist was sitting, still playing his crappy rendition of acoustic Beatles songs. Despite himself, Steve couldn't help but snort out a bit of a laugh. Finally, it seemed as though they saw eye to eye on something.

"Right?" Steve said, hiding his smirk behind the lip of his empty cup. "He couldn't have at least, like, tried playing some Rolling Stones instead?"

"The Beatles fucking suck," Billy agreed, and that was how it started.

Without the need to grandstand their usual machismo for an audience of their peers, it turned out that they almost got along. They wound up talking shit about the douche on the guitar until Billy eventually left him to confront the guy and grab them more drinks. The guitarist left in a huff, but it was relieving not to hear that annoying twang and squeal that came from someone who half-knew how to play guitar.

There was no way to tell when the party ended, exactly, but after a majority of the people who had been there creeped away, Steve figured it was time to head out as well. He didn't know how long he had stayed standing in the shadow of the bonfire, breathing in the same chilled air as Billy and just talking with the guy, and found he was disoriented by this lack of knowledge. When he turned to leave, though, Billy went with him, and they drunkenly navigated their way out of the woods together silently.

It took Steve longer to find his way out than it had taken him to find his way in, but as they progressed, guided only by the dim, yellowed light of his flashlight, he thought he caught a glimpse of something hidden by the brush and trees of the woods. When he swung his light around to check, the light illuminated what looked to be a pair of bright red eyes.

"Th' fuck you lookin' at, you ass? I almost walked into a fucking tree," Billy seethed, reaching out to grab and redirect the flashlight to shine it back in front of them.

"You managed to avoid them on the way in just fine," Steve snapped, and quickly pointed the flashlight back at the spot where he thought he'd seen something shine.

If there had been something there, it was gone now, and that left him feeling uneasy. He forced himself to believe that what he'd seen had simply been the eyes of a coyote or some other small game predator, but the idea that it had been another monster from the Upside Down wouldn't leave his mind. His grip around the flashlight tightened, but he kept it steady even as the rest of his body began to quake gently. What he really had to remember, he told himself, was that those things that had hunted him before hadn't had eyes, and whatever he'd thought he'd seen a moment ago did.

The gate was closed, the monsters were gone, and he was safe, goddammit; he was safe.