AN:

Finally had an idea. This is going to be really angsty and painful and you're not going to like Mike that much for a while. I'm thinking six chapters but it might be less. Let the pain begin.

El paced the length of the apartment, feeling stupid and ridiculous.

To be fair, anyone who had been wearing a slutty french maid costume for almost three hours while waiting for their significant other to get home from work would feel stupid too. She had called Mike's work—the IT department at some tech company—and his beeper several times after the first two hours, and the silence was making her worried and pissing her off.

He was late. Again.

If it was just occasionally, or if he called to let her know, she wouldn't mind so much. But this had been going on for months and even her job down the street at the coffee shop couldn't distract her from the fact that she felt… lonely. He always came home tired, shoving down dinner (if she made any) and then falling onto the couch and turning on the TV before passing out. Some nights she just left him there, crawling into their bed by herself and trying to understand what was happening.

He hadn't touched her in weeks… maybe even months, always saying he was tired or busy, which he honestly was. But he wasn't even trying anymore and she didn't know why.

So she had done something desperate and stupid, thinking that it might actually work. He'd always like when she'd worn something sexy, so she'd gone to the nearest trashy sex shop and bought the stupid costume, hoping that maybe it would be enough to break him from his monotone routine. To make him look at her.

But he wasn't even here to see, probably fixing some higher-up's computer because if there was one thing Mike was bad at, it was saying no to more work. Because he loved his job, he loved fixing fried circuits and reprogramming fucked up hard drives and whatever the fuck else he mentioned when they occasionally talked.

At first she'd thought maybe he was just having a mood or needed some space. Those magazines she read in waiting rooms always mentioned that. Sometimes your man just needs to figure some things, give him some space. So she had, taking more evening shifts and coming home to their humble apartment after he'd already fallen asleep. He would get up early before she would wake up and for a while she only saw him once or twice a day.

But nothing had worked and now she was sitting on the beat-up couch, feeling like everything was falling apart.

Knock knock

She ran to the door, not really thinking about the fact that Mike wouldn't knock, he would just unlock the door and come in silently as usual. But she was too desperate to think or care, throwing open the door with a wide smile that quickly fell off her face. It was one of her neighbors—Jake? Josh?—and his eyes immediately went down to her outfit, pausing before going back to meet her eyes.

"Oh," she blinked at him. "Hello."

"Hi… Jane, right? You live here with Mike?" He licked his lips. "I'm your neighbor, from apartment 24. James," he supplied helpfully.

"Right, hi, um…" she closed the door a bit, trying to hide behind it . "Did you need something?"

"Sort of. Me and my roommate, we wanted to get to know our neighbors since we moved in like a month ago. We're throwing a little get together this Saturday night. Free booze." He was smiling, glancing down at the short skirt that barely covered her thighs. "If, uh, you wanted to come, we'd love to get to know you."

There was a weight in his words and she shuffled her high heel covered feet, suddenly unsure of what to say. Mike wouldn't want to go, and the way James was looking at her made her definitely not want to go by herself. Before she could open her mouth to politely refuse, there was the sound of footsteps and keys jangling and Mike appeared around the corner.

His eyes widened at the sight of the open door, and his girlfriend talking to that stupidly attractive guy who lived a few doors down. And she was wearing fucking lingerie.

"El?" His voice was sharp. "What's going on?"

He was there in an instant, between the two of them, glancing at what she was wearing and back at the "friendly" neighbor, his eyes suddenly fiery. His arm wrapped around her waist possessively and he glared at the other man, waiting for an explanation. James backed off a bit.

"I was just inviting you guys to a meet-the-neighbors party, this Saturday night?" he smiled, unable to keep from glancing at El's legs again.

El didn't know what was happening, but she felt herself melting against Mike's arm, almost sighing in relief as he pulled her closer to him. He'd always had a bit of a jealous streak, but her heart started pounding as she realized that he was still very much possessive of her, despite the distance between them lately.

"We'll go," she blurted, smiling at James. "What time?"

"Seven, but uh, most people don't show up until eight so you don't have to rush or anything," he grinned at her, not noticing the death glare he was getting from Mike.

"Perfect. See you then."

She gave him a polite smile and then shoved her boyfriend into the apartment and shut the door behind her, feeling oddly excited.

"What the fuck are you wearing? And why are you talking to him like that? What the fuck is going on?" Mike was livid. "We're not going to that party."

"Yes, we are. You never want to do anything because you work but you don't work Saturdays so we're going to meet our neighbors."

She had her arms crossed, jaw set, and he realized that she wasn't budging on that one, deicidng to focus back on the fact that she was dressed like a slutty maid. And she had answered the door.

"Whatever. Can you please tell me what you think you're doing running around looking like that?!"

"I wasn't running around, I was waiting for you and then he knocked on the door—"

"So you answered?! There wasn't any part of you that thought it was bad idea?!" He yelled, not noticing how she flinched. "God, anyone could have walked past and seen you looking like stupid slut!"

Suddenly it was too much, all of it, and her bottom lip trembled. That one had hurt, even if he was just having a tantrum, when he didn't think before he said things. El turned away.

"I wore it for you. I was waiting for you to get home but—" Her voice broke. "You didn't call and you were late… I'm so stupid. I keep trying but you just don't care anymore."

"Oh, so it's my fault, huh? Everything is always my fault!" He shot back.

"I didn't say that! I'm just… I'm so tired of trying. You don't care anymore and I don't know what to do…" The tears fell from her eyes and she turned to go, feeling her heart cracking apart even further. "You're right. I'm just a stupid slut."

Her feet took her towards their bedroom and she felt the ghost of a hand on her elbow, but she pulled away, walking faster.

"El. El, wait, I'm sorry—"

She slammed the door shut in his face just as the sob she'd been stifling broke out of her chest. Her back hit the door and she slid down, covering her face and sobbing into her hands, feeling like the stupidest person in the whole world. He didn't care anymore, about anything, but especially not about her. She was nothing, just a stupid little girl who couldn't make the boy she'd loved since she was twelve happy anymore. Moving to the city with him had been a mistake, but she'd thought they would always be happy, that he would always want her.

She had been wrong.

He loved his job more, or technology, or whatever it was, it was more important than her. Maybe it was time she went home, to Hawkins, and started over. Because Mike didn't care anymore and she was done trying.

She started ripping the stupid costume off, sobbing angrily and feeling stupid all over again, for thinking it would make a difference. It hadn't changed anything, he still hadn't—

Pausing, she looked down, rubbing the cheap silk between her fingers, thinking. He had cared, he had grabbed her and put his arm around her when he had seen James looking at her in this stupid outfit. He had been jealous, possessive even, and it made her heart speed up. Maybe it wasn't over yet… maybe there was a way for her to make him care again.

She put on some pajamas and then went over to the closet, digging through until she found that slinky black dress. Max had convinced her to buy it, but it was tight, like super tight, with thin straps and low scooping neckline that made her boobs look fantastic. She'd never worn it—it made her feel self-conscious—but it would be perfect for a party. There were black boots to match, that went over her knee and would highlight just how short the dress was, showing off her toned legs.

It was slutty, something she probably would have only worn for Mike, but he didn't give two shits anymore. She was a stupid slut, might as well play the part.

The party was in two days. She could fake it for another two days.

Wiping her eyes, she put the outfit back in the closet and then slowly opened the door, halfway hoping he would still be out there, begging for forgiveness. But she could hear the TV and realized he was probably already passed out on the couch. What a great apology.

He wasn't asleep and looked over when she came out of the room, taking in her red eyes and puffy face.

"You okay?" He seemed nervous.

"I'm fine," she bluffed, walking to the kitchen and putting on the kettle. "Just forget it."

It was quiet for a moment and then she let out a silent exhale, calling to him from the kitchen, her voice wavering just slightly.

"You know, now we have to go that party."

"Why?"

"Because I said we would. It would be rude not to. They're just our neighbors, it won't be that bad," she insisted.

"I don't want to go."

"He said there'd be free booze. We could just go and get drunk and then come back. It's not like we live that far away."

There was a contemplative pause and she could almost hear him thinking. They didn't really have enough to afford alcohol that often, and it was just down the hall. He could abandon ship at any time. It was a pretty sweet deal.

"Yeah, okay. Why not."

"Cool."

The kettle whistled and she poured the boiling water into her mug, not bothering to hide the smirk that twitched her lips. Her plan just might work after all.

AN:

There's an explanation for everything but you won't get that until later. This supposed to just be a grown up Mileven fic, not an AU. It's just a depressing take on it. Let me know if it's interesting and I'll try and post more. The next chapter is smutty smut smut, because let's be honest, that's what I do.