NICK WAS A SLEEPLESS WRECK WHEN HE WAS AT FAMILY VIDEO STORE THE NEXT DAY.     He had already gotten his break and he used it to take a nap so here he was, swaying dangerously on his feet and blinking blearily as he stood next to the shelves that were begging to be knocked over. Part of him wanted to stay to observe the aftermath but Eddie was gone when he woke up so Nick thought it best to continue on with his day as though he hadn't witnessed a supernatural murder.

    "Party too hard last night, Bender?" Steve asked as he checked out a girl—both financially and flirtatiously—at the counter.

    "Couldn't sleep," Nick answered, cutting himself off with a yawn, emphasizing his point. He couldn't get to sleep until five in the morning, then had to get up two hours later to go to work, and now he was dead on his feet, swaying dangerously.

    "I bet the trailer park threw some real ragers."

     "Yeah, people were hanging from the. . .ceiling." Nick trailed off when he realized what he was saying. He straightened off the broom he was leaning against and continued sweeping. "So, uh, Robin. How'd your night go with Vickie?" Perfect. Get Robin to start her mile-a-minute routine to throw the heat off of him. Not fucking suspicious at all, Nicholas.

    "You wouldn't believe it," Robin started, immediately going into her spiel, eyes lighting up. She talked about how pretty Vickie looked, with her Molly Ringwald-esque haircut and the flowery scent that lingered whenever she'd twist her head to pour her doe eyes into Robin's. "And then she laughed. And it wasn't a cheap, fake laugh, either. It was a real, genuine laugh."

    "Of course, she laughed," Steve said factually, "it's my Muppet joke. It's hilarious."

    "Would it be weird if I said that she kind of sounded like Cookie Monster?" Nick interjected, moving his way up to the counter. Steve gave him a look. "Very." Nick promptly gave Steve the finger in response.

    "My point," Robin rerouted, interrupting the both of them before their squabble couldn't be reeled back, "is that she laughed. And everything was, like, perfect."

    "But. . ." Steve and Nick both said together.

   "But," Robin continued, "I have this problem where I know that I've said everything that I've needed to say but the words, they just keep. . .spilling out of me. And it's like my brain is moving faster than my mouth. Or more like my mouth is moving faster than my brain but I just can't seem to stop myself from word-vomiting and. . .I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

    "Yeah." Steve gave Robin a confirming nod and Nick walked over to give her a pitying pat on the shoulder before going to stand next to Steve. Robin sighed. "We're hopeless. Totally and utterly. Nick, how do you do it?"

    "Trust me, you do not want my advice." Nick raised his hands, not even wanting to entertain that conversation. And considering that any intimate adventures of his both started and ended with the star basketball player that was not even likely hanging out in a coat closet said more than enough about what Nick was qualified to talk about and label as so-called advice. If he could remember how that exchange even started, he would, but with the way things came to an end, Nick thanked his brain for blocking it out.

    "You seem level-headed enough to give us at least something slightly profound," Robin pressed on. Nick shrugged, looking for the right words. "Uh, find someone you like? Don't date assholes? What do you want me to say?"

     "Well," Robin shrugged, as well, "what does your heart tell you?"

    Nick let out a sigh, letting his mind slow to pull his thoughts together. "Find someone who surprises you. You know, someone you're not expecting. Or find someone you have something in common with. I'd tell you to look for someone who cares about you but that's just bare minimum and even then, it's a lot to ask for so who am I to ask."

    Robin nodded sagely, taking in the advice. With her eyes lighting up and widening, she rushed over to one of the numerous shelves that lined the store and pulled a VHS off of one of them. "I think I found our morning movie: Dr. Zhivago."

     Steve made a face, gagging as he made his way to her, waving his hands in dismissal and refusal. "Oh, no, you know I don't do double VHS."

     "But it's about doomed love," Robin countered, as if that was supposed to make her argument any better. At least it was relatable in some aspects. Steve nodded in defeat and Robin went to put it in. "Not to mention, Julie Christie is b-bonkers hot in this," Robin added, "and I'm talking about one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen." After Robin went to switch on the television, a news station was recounting last night's events. Nick walked up to see, standing behind Steve and Robin as the three watched the newscast in muted horror.

     "A Hawkins High student was murdered," Steve muttered under his breath. Then his eyes widened and his eyesight was instantly directed at Nick. "Bender! You were there last night, you live there. Did you know who it was? Did you see anything?"

    "To be completely honest with you, I'm still trying to process what even happened that night," Nick said, shaking his head, hearing Chrissy's bones snap in the back of his mind and still not feeling any sort of visceral reaction to it. It scared him, not feeling any sort of icicle chill run down his back at seeing that. He should have been losing his mind at the sight as Chrissy dropped to the floor in a heap, but to him it had felt like another regular Friday night.

    Steve was about to ask a follow-up question when the bell over the door rang and in came two kids around the age of fourteen, rushing up to the counter, impatient. "How many phones do you have?" one of them asked, his curly hair being matted down by a trucker cap that said "Thinking Cap" across the front. A redhead with headphones and a Sony Walkman stood next to him with the same urgent look in her eyes, although she was kinda shaky around the edges.

    "Why do you need to-" Steve started, but the kid cut him off.

    "How many phones, Steve?!"

    "Two," Steve answered finally, crossing his arms in confusion as to what was going on.

   "Three, if you count Keith's in the back," Robin interjected, jabbing her thumb behind her. The redhead looked over and nodded. "Three could work."

    "Perfect." With that, the kid with the cap took his backpack off and slid it across the counter before jumping over it, Steve interjecting with questions over the general chaos.

    "Maybe on a Monday you guys can mess around like toddlers but it's Saturday. It's our busiest day." Robin rushed around to set the display back up and Nick stood there a little awkwardly, knowing what was going on but not really wanting to explain anything because he didn't even know how to explain it himself. Nick nudged Steve with his elbow and mumbled, "Who are they?"

    "The one who's currently taking over the computer is Dustin and the redhead is Max," Steve answered before grumbling something incoherent.

    "How many children are you friends with?" Nick asked and Steve gave him the finger as he was in the middle of redoing his pile that Dustin had knocked over five minutes prior.

    "Listen, Robin, I totally empathize with you but this cannot wait until Monday," Dustin reported, already going to town on the computer.

    "What are you guys even doing, if I'm even allowed to ask?" Nick questioned as he honed in on Dustin rapidly punching the keys.

    "Looking up Eddie's friends' phone numbers," Dustin answered, his tone a wee bit snappish but Nick could understand; the situation was dire and he was under a lot of pressure.

    "Eddie has friends?" Nick asked. "You're one to talk, Bender," Steve retorted and then it was Nick's turn to give him the finger. "Oh, that Eddie?" Steve then shot into complaint mode, "Your cool older friend who you like more than me because he's a nerd and plays board games with you?"

    Nick could feel Dustin rolling his eyes as his shoulders slouched. "Yes, that Eddie—I never said that. Max can you please fill them in on what's going on?"

     "Going on with what?" Robin asked, exasperated as she turned around to face them. Max shifted in her stance, teetering from one foot to the other.

    "Something happened last night," Max started, "all the lights in my house started flickering and the static from the tv was going haywire but as soon as it started, it was over. And then I saw Eddie running out of his trailer and driving away. He looked terrified. But before that, he, Chrissy, and some other guy were walking into his trailer, probably after the basketball game. I couldn't get a good look at his face, but he looked a lot like. . .you." Max's attention then turned to face Nick. Steve slowly turned his head to look at him. Nick didn't say a word.

     "We need to start making some phone calls," Dustin stated promptly.

The next half hour was filled with frantic pacing, each of them holding a landline and punching in a phone number, occasionally trading phones with crossing out names on a white board while Steve was off flirting with one of the customers.

    Nick was on his way to cross out a name while calling another number when someone answered, "This is Thatcher Harrington speaking. To whom do I owe the pleasure of this monumentous occasion?"

    "Thatcher?" Nick asked, stopping himself in his tracks and looking back at the white board to see who else's number was left uncrossed. He didn't recognize Thatcher's number, but apparently he was high enough up on Eddie's list to be considered a friend. "How do you know Eddie?"

    "Nick Bender?" Thatcher asked in surprise.

    "You remember me?"

    "How could I forget? You practically blew up the biology lab your freshman year! How did you even do that, man?" Thatcher chuckled. Nick groaned inwardly at the memory. "It's a long story. But hey, I gotta ask: any chance you know where Eddie Munson might be?"

    "To be honest, man, I haven't seen him except for the couple of times I bought weed off him during school. . . don't tell Steve I said that. Should I be worried?"

    Nick shook his head, even though Thatcher couldn't see. "Uh, no. Don't worry about it. Thanks, though."

    "Sure thing," Thatcher returned enthusiastically before hanging up. Nick stared at the phone before putting it back on the hook.

    "Guys, I think I might have a lead," Max announced and they all turned to look at her. "It's this guy named Reefer Rick and sometimes Eddie crashes at his place."

    "Great," Robin commented, "does this Reefer Rick guy have a last name?"

    "That's the thing," Max continued, deflating a little, "he's more of a legend to most people than he is an actual person."

    "Maybe the cops have his last name," Steve interjected. "The dude's a drug dealer and there's a high chance he's been busted so he could be in the system."

    "The cops?" Dustin asked, and geez, Nick didn't think he's ever heard such a grown exhaustion come from a child before. "Really, Steve? That's your suggestion?"

   "I'm just saying that maybe the cops should be filled in on what we know, what's going on."

   "That sounds like a death trap you're setting there, buddy. Cops are pretty much the last people you want to go to with a situation like this," Nick interjected and Steve squinted at him, possibly attempting to burn holes into his head.

     "You see, I'd tell you that I don't care for your attitude, mister, but unfortunately, I'm out of fucks left to give. So you ain't gettin' diddly shit, buster." Steve shrugged. "You know, I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. All I'm saying is that we shouldn't rule it out."

     "That's exactly what we're trying to do here, Steve," Max retorted.

     "And maybe we'd have better luck if you were trying to help and not trying to seek out a girlfriend," Dustin added on.

    "Hey, someone has to attend to the customers." Steve pointed a finger. "Especially if they're babes, right?" Robin teased, winking at him. Steve then pointed his finger to Robin. "Not fair. We have a very wide selection. It can be very overwhelming for people."

    Robin lit up at that. "Yeah. It can be." Rushing over to the computer, Robin sat down and started typing. "What are you doing?" Max asked. Nick looked over her shoulder to see that she had typed in the name "Rick into the search bar. Pressing the "Enter" key, a list of different Ricks showed up.

     "Twelve Ricks already have accounts here," Robin pointed out.

    "That's a lot of Ricks," Nick commented.

    "So let's narrow it down."

    They went through the list, crossing off the ones that didn't sound like any movies a drug dealer would rent. Nick wanted to argue about the chances of whether or not Rick was watching these movies high, but he figured now wasn't the time. However, one of them seemed to be the perfect fit. Cheech and Chong—perfect films for a stoner's night in.

    "Rick Lipton?" asked Max, sounding somewhat hopeful. Robin shrugged. "Spelled like the tea brand. Twenty-one twenty-one Holland road."

    "That's out by Lovers Lake." The same tone reached Dustin's voice, too.

    "Middle of nowhere," Nick added.

    "Perfect place to hide," Robin concluded and they all raced towards Steve's car. They didn't know what they were gonna find, but they were gonna figure it out once they got there.

AUTHOR'S STICKY NOTE. 

sorry this was really script-heavy, i know some people hate that and it sounds like i'm just inserting nick into the show but i promise the chapters won't all be like that ! i'm just getting the ball rolling <3 but i hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless !