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ISADORA LEANED OVER THE EDGE OF THE SANTA MONICA PIER, HER ELBOWS RESTING AGAINST THE COLD RAILING, HER EYES FOCUSED ON THE DISTANT HORIZON WHERE THE SKY MET THE WATER.

The winter sun hung low, casting a golden glow over the Pacific Ocean. December in Santa Monica didn't feel like winter — it never really did. Back in Hawkins, December meant gray skies, bitter cold, and people bundled up in heavy coats. Here, in the land of eternal sunshine, winter was a fleeting suggestion, barely touching the skin.

Still, the wind off the water was cool enough to send a shiver through her body, though she wasn't sure if it was the wind or something else — something that had been crawling under her skin ever since she stepped foot back in California. A feeling she couldn't quite shake.

She hadn't been back since 1982. Three long years, and though three years didn't seem like much in the grand scheme of things, to Isadora, it felt like a lifetime ago. The person she had been when she left Santa Monica was so far removed from who she was now that it was hard to believe she had ever lived here. She wasn't the same girl who had stood on this pier with her childhood best friend, Daniel Miller, racing the setting sun, their laughter echoing across the waves.

Daniel. His name alone was enough to stir something deep inside her, something that she had worked hard to bury. Following their fight the day before she left Santa Monica, they hadn't spoken, and although she had tried to reach out to him, he had never answered her, and so she had tried not to think about him, but Santa Monica was haunted by his presence. Every street, every corner, every inch of the beach carried memories of him. And now that she was back, the memories were impossible to ignore.

Billy's laughter broke through Isadora's thoughts, pulling her from the murky depths of her mind. He was standing a little further down the pier, captivated by one of the street performers — a man juggling flaming torches. Billy's eyes were wide with wonder, his grin bright and unguarded. The sight of him, so carefree and full of life, made Isadora smile despite the tension she'd been carrying since they arrived in Santa Monica.

His energy was infectious now, always ready to dive headfirst into something new, something fun. Since Hawkins, since the Mind Flayer, Billy had become someone she hardly recognised, in the best possible way. The anger and bitterness that had once fuelled him were gone, replaced by a kind of peaceful exuberance, as if he had learned how to breathe again. He was always looking for the next adventure, always reaching for happiness instead of retreating from it.

For him, this trip was nothing more than a holiday — a chance to break away from the quiet life they had built in Hawkins. He'd suggested they come to California almost on a whim, desperate to escape the cold December weather creeping in back home; a spontaneous road trip to soak in the sun and feel the ocean breeze, to experience a world that didn't remind them of the dark things that had once threatened to destroy them both.

But for Isadora, this trip wasn't just a holiday. Santa Monica held a different kind of weight for her. The place where she had grown up, where she had spent her childhood, was layered with memories she wasn't sure she was ready to confront.

And now, being back here, standing on the pier with the familiar smell of salt water in the air, all of those memories were rushing to the surface, memories of a life she had long since abandoned pressing against her chest. She wasn't sure how to deal with them — how to explain to Billy, who, despite his own dark past, was now so full of light.

"Isadora!"

Billy's voice called out to her, pulling her back into the present. She turned to see him waving enthusiastically, motioning for her to join him. She smiled, though it felt forced, and gave him a little wave, indicating that she needed a moment. He nodded and turned back to the performance, engrossed ion the spectacle.

She needed to walk. She needed to clear her head, to shake the feeling that had been gnawing at her since they arrived. The pier felt too crowded, too noisy. Isadora turned and began walking toward the beach, away from the laughter and the tourists, the smell of salt water and fried food mingling in the air.

Her shoes hit the sand with a soft thud, and she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar crunch beneath her feet. This beach had been her sanctuary once. When she was younger, she had spent hours here with Daniel, with Katie, with her sister Sophia, swimming, surfing, building castles in the sand. The waves crashing in the distance had once felt like the soundtrack to her life, always there, always constant, but now they felt foreign, as though the rhythm had changed in her absence.

She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected to feel so unsettled, so out of place. Santa Monica had once been her home, a place of warmth and familiarity, but after the death of her sister and father, her mum had moved them to Hawkins, chasing a fresh start. Three years ago, leaving felt like the only way to breathe, to escape the weight of memories that had started to suffocate her, but now, standing on the beach that had once been her refuge, she wondered if she had ever truly escaped at all.

As she walked, her mind drifted to Daniel. They hadn't spoken since the day she had left. She had tried reaching out over the years, but he had never answered her, and now, after all this time, after all the miles between them, she didn't know if she could handle seeing him again.

But Santa Monica was small. Too small, really. If he was still here, it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed. She wondered what she would say if it happened. Would he hate her? Would he even care?

Lost in her thoughts, Isadora didn't notice the figure standing near the lifeguard tower until it was too late. Her heart skipped a beat as she realised who it was.

Daniel Miller.

He was leaning against the side of the tower, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ocean with a distant expression. He hadn't changed much. His hair was a little longer, shoulders a little broader, but he still had the same intense, thoughtful look she remembered. The sight of him stirred something deep in her chest, something she had buried a long time ago.

She froze, unsure of what to do. Her first instinct was to turn around and walk away, to avoid this moment entirely, but her feet were rooted to the spot, her body refusing to move. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. What would she say to him? What could she say? Would he even want to talk to her?

Before she could decide, Daniel turned, and their eyes met.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world seemed to pause, the sound of waves and the wind fading into the background as they stood there, staring at each other. Isadora's heart pounded in her chest, her throat tightening with a mix of fear and guilt.

"Isadora," Daniel said, his voice sharp and cold. He rarely called her by her full name, and hearing it from his lips now felt like a slap. It was a stark reminder that the boy who used to call her Dory — her best friend — was gone.

"Daniel, please —" she tried to begin, but he interrupted her immediately, his eyes burning with an anger she had never seen before.

"No, don't please me," Daniel snapped, his frustration spilling over, "Three years, Isadora. You disappeared for three years, and now you just show up out of nowhere, like nothing's happened?"

Isadora opened her mouth, feeling the weight of all those unanswered letters, the countless calls that went ignored. Hearing him say her name with such detachment made her feel like a stranger, as if all those years together had vanished, too.

"Daniel, I tried reaching out to you," she said, her voice shaking. "You didn't answer. You wouldn't even give me the chance to explain."

He looked away, a flash of guilt crossing his face before his expression hardened again. "I didn't want to hear from you," he shot back, his tone bitter. "Not after the way you just disappeared. What could you possibly have said that would make any of it better?"

"Are you kidding me? It was Mum's choice to move, I didn't have a choice!" She snapped, her voice breaking. "After Dad and Sophia ... we couldn't stay here anymore. Everything reminded me of them, and I was falling apart."

"You think I wasn't?" Daniel's voice rose, hurt and anger mingling. "I lost Sophia too. She was like a sister to me, but you didn't give me a chance to be there for you — or to say goodbye."

"I tried, Daniel," she whispered, struggling to keep the tears back. "I tried so many times. I wanted to explain."

"Then why didn't you come back?" He demanded. "If you cared so much, why didn't you show up and face me?"

Isadora's heart sank. "Because ... because I was afraid," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "Afraid of seeing what I'd done to you, afraid of facing everything I'd left behind."

Daniel laughed, a harsh, hollow sound, "Afraid, huh? I thought we were in this together, Dory. I thought you trusted me, but I guess you figured things out just fine without me."

"Daniel, please," she whispered, desperate now.

But he shook his head, his face set in stone, "You don't get to just show up and say sorry like that's going to fix everything," he said, his voice breaking. "You were my best friend, Isadora. I trusted you more than anyone, and you just ... left."

Before she could say anything else, Billy appeared beside her, his presence commanding and protective. He placed himself slightly in front of Isadora, his eyes fixed on Daniel with a look that could cut steel.

"Is there a problem here?" Daniel asked, his voice low and steady, but carrying a clear threat beneath the calm exterior.

Daniel's eyes shifted to Billy, narrowing suspicion and hostility. "Who the hell are you?" He demanded, his voice tight with anger.

"I'm Billy," he replied, his tone unyielding, "Isadora's boyfriend."

Daniel's expression shifted from anger to shock, and he glanced at Isadora in disbelief. "Boyfriend?" He repeated, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He turned back to Billy, looking him up and down with barely concealed contempt, "You're dating him?"

Billy's jaw clenched, and he took a small step forward, his stance shifting subtly, ready to defend if needed. "Yeah," he said firmly, his voice holding an edge. "Got a problem with that?"

Isadora felt the tension between them like a physical weight, and she opened her mouth to intervene, but Daniel's next words stopped her cold.

"Isadora, how can you date someone like him?" Daniel asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "After what happened with Kyle? Really?"

The mention of Kyle's name hit her like a tidal wave, and before she could stop herself, anger flared up inside her, hot and uncontrollable. Her hands clenched into fists, and she felt a surge of emotions she couldn't keep bottled up.

"Don't you dare bring up Kyle," she snapped, her voice shaking with fury. "You don't know anything about Billy, and you sure as hell don't get to throw Kyle in my face like that."

Daniel seems taken aback by the intensity of her reaction, but he didn't back down. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he said, his voice almost pleading now, but there was an underlying bitterness in his words. "You're not thinking straight, Dory."

"You don't get to decide what's best for me!" Isadora shouted, her voice rising in frustration. "You don't know what you're talking about, Daniel. You don't know Billy, and you don't know me anymore!"

Billy, who had been watching the exchange in silence, stepped closer, his face a mask of fury. "I think you should leave," he said, his voice low and threatening. He wasn't yelling, but there was something dangerous in his tone that made even Daniel hesitate.

"This isn't your fight," Daniel muttered, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"It is when you're hurting her," Billy replied, his voice steady and unwavering. "And trust me, you don't want to push this."

Daniel opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue, but then he seemed to think better of it. He shook his head in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered, his voice cold and distant. "Whatever. Maybe I don't know you anymore, Isadora."

He turned on his heel, walking away without another word. Isadora watched him go, her heart heavy and aching with the finality of it all. She had known this would be hard, but hearing Daniel say her name with such coldness — hearing him give up on their friendship — felt like a knife to the chest.

Billy stayed by her side, his fists still clenched and his jaw tight with barely restrained anger. When Daniel disappeared from view, he turned to Isadora, his expression softening instantly when he saw the tears streaming down her face.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his voice gentle now.

Isadora nodded, but she couldn't hold back the tears. Billy pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she tried to steady her breathing. His embrace was warm and reassuring, a sharp contrast to the coldness she had just experienced.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Billy murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Whatever happened with Kyle, it's not his business."

Isadora tensed at the mention of Kyle's name, and Billy immediately sensed it. He pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. "Issi ... who's Kyle?" He asked, his voice tentative, as if he didn't want to push but couldn't ignore it.

Isadora shook her head quickly, wiping away her tears. "It's nothing," she said, her voice tight and strained. "Just ... someone from my past."

Billy didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. "Okay," he said softly, though his eyes remained clouded with worry. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her away from where Daniel had stood.

As they walked in silence, Isadora felt the weight of everything pressing down on her. Daniel's words had opened old wounds she had tried so hard to forget, and now the memories she had buried were clawing their way back to the surface.

Billy held her close, his arm steady around her, but she could feel the tension radiating off him. He was angry—angry at Daniel for hurting her, angry that there was something in her past he didn't understand. But he didn't push her to explain, and for that, she was grateful.

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Poor Is 😭

Enjoy! Xo

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