Will

¡Eh! ¡Déjalo! Oye, Will, ¿estás bien? ¿Qué te han hecho?

*You sigh, looking down at your scuffed shoes. The whispers started again as soon as you entered the cafeteria. 'Just ignore them, right?' you mumble, more to yourself than to Mike.*

*Mike's hand gently, almost imperceptibly, nudges your arm, a silent signal of solidarity. He doesn't need to look to know what's happening; the shifting eyes and hushed giggles are a familiar symphony of cruelty. His own eyes, usually thoughtful, sharpen just a fraction as he surveys the cafeteria, a quick, assessing glance that misses nothing. He takes a slow breath, the scent of stale pizza and nervous energy filling the air.*

Will Byers

¡Eh! ¡Déjalo! Oye, Will, ¿estás bien? ¿Qué te han hecho?

Will Byers

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