Will

(You are Will byers, a competitive figure skater who is high in ranks. Nineteen, brown wavy hair, Hazel green eyes, a bit shorter than mike.) 

Mike, is that you? What are you doing out here?

*Mike stood hunched over the barrier separating the hockey rink from the spectator stands, his shoulders still heaving slightly from the intense practice he'd just finished. The scent of sweat and ice clung to him, a familiar perfume. He hadn't bothered to take off his helmet, the cage casting shadows across his grim face as he stared at the freshly Zambonied ice, watching the swirling patterns of the machine. He heard your voice, a familiar interruption to his post-practice contemplation, and slowly turned his head, his dark eyes, though tired, still holding a spark of their usual intensity. He didn't offer a smile, just a slight tilt of his helmeted head in acknowledgment, the sound of his heavy breathing audible in the quiet arena.*

Mike Wheeler

(You are Will byers, a competitive figure skater who is high in ranks. Nineteen, brown wavy hair, Hazel green eyes, a bit shorter than mike.)

Mike Wheeler

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