chapter twenty – the winner takes it all

September 20th, 1985

The rising sun peeked through the blinds, casting a glow across her face. The room was cold and her hands wrapped the quilt around her tighter, bringing the cloth over her face. An alarm blared in the distance and she reached her hand out to check if it was hers, but the sound continued.

"Teo! ¡Apaga tu alarma!" She groaned loudly but when the sound persisted she tossed the blanket that was shielding her away from the world to the side and trudged out of her room and to his door. Her hands gripped the knob and threw it open; it had become routine between them over the summer  for her to be woken up by his alarm and vice versa, so she would always barge into his room in the early mornings and turn it off. Mateo was a fairly deep sleeper, yet he believed he could get up at six o'clock in the morning.

When her mind fully woke and realized that her brother wasn't there and it wasn't summer anymore, she was already halfway inside. She hadn't been in his room for the past two months. Her body froze, the alarm blared against the fairly barren walls; a few Smiths, The Velvet Underground posters, and polaroids were hung up intricately. It looked exactly the same as she remembered, from the crate of cassettes he kept tucked beside his desk, to the multitude of flannels that littered his floor. Nothing had changed. Their mom only ever laid in his bed; the wounds were still too fresh to start cleaning up his space and packing away his things. Putting her sons' belongings away as if he were no longer there would only solidify that he was no longer there.

There was an emptiness that hung beside the posters and tucked itself within each nook and cranny of his partially full bookshelf. You'd think, watching her brother be buried six feet under would have solidified the loss but it didn't. However, as she stood in the middle of the vacant haven her brother's death finally felt real. She forced herself to turn the alarm off as well as unplug it. Then she sat down on his bed, looked around his room for the second time, and started crying.

She sat there a good hour, clutching his blanket close to her and sobbing into his sheets. She wished she could have given him one last good hug or told him she appreciated him more and that he was the best big brother she could have ever had. She wished she cherished their time more – you never cherish the time you spent with someone until they were gone. She hated that – the regret, the anger, the guilt, that bubbled inside of her because she didn't see it coming. She should've seen it coming.

After she emptied her tank of tears, she got in the shower and tried to fix herself up before the bus came. Her cheeks were puffy and there was an evident tint in the whites of her eyes, but she couldn't miss school. There was an important test she had to take for her AP Literature class and she promised Lucas she would come with him to the basketball tryouts for moral support, considering his other friends dismissed the idea the second he brought it up and he and Max were distancing themselves lately.

She looked at herself in the mirror and internally cringed. Her hair was the only thing about her that looked somewhat nice, considering there was never a day that went by where she didn't care for her curls. Other than that, she looked extremely tired and like she'd been crying – which she was and had. The outfit she put together was okay, it wasn't anything like the girls at her school wore; the chunky knitted sweater her grandmother made her, the Levi's that were handed down from her older cousin, and her battered boots, were anything but trendy. She didn't care for the fads though, she took pride in her style, but it was annoying having to hear the same snickers and jokes aimed at her fashion sense in the hallways.

It was starting to somehow get worse and it wasn't just aimed at what she was wearing anymore. The whispers were turning into boisterous expressions of disgust, notes from Eddie were slowly being overthrown by vile letters from strangers, and even walking into a bathroom alone elicited fear. She was used to bumping into people who hated her simply for the color of her skin and the way she pronounced certain words or expressed her culture,  but this kind of hate that her peers expressed cut so deeply into her spirit. There were days when the jokes were tolerable and the snickers in the hallway were easily blocked out by her headphones, but then there were some where she knew the tears in her eyes could be seen by anyone near – which thankfully wasn't always many.

Max rapped hurridly at the door, like she always did when the bus stopped near Irene's house and she still wasn't outside. The older teen grabbed her things, shoving her walkman and journals into her backpack before stumbling out of her room and into the kitchen. Her hand quickly grabbed the tupperware she left out on the counter and then rushed out of her house.

"Everytime Rena! Come on, you gotta get better at this." Max breathed beside her and they both ran toward the yellow vehicle, the last kid on her block stepped in and just as the doors were about to close she placed her hand against it. She motioned for the red-head to get on and then followed behind, sending the bus driver an apologetic smile to which he glared in return.

They both let out a huff as they plopped into their usual seat near the front, Max by the window and Irene by the aisle. The latter placed the tupperware on her lap, opened it carefully as the bus jostled them, and took out one of the cinnamon rolls inside before handing the plastic to Max.

"Made them last night. They're not warm but they still taste good." She smiled softly, giving the girl a half shrug. Max grabbed the gooey treat and they both sat in a comfortable silence as they ate. After a while they fell into a small conversation about their plans for the weekend and the pressures of high school. Halfway into their conversation Max noticed how sunken Irene looked, prompting her to ask how the girl was doing.

"I just had a rough morning, that's all." Irene sighed as she placed the tupperware into her backpack.

Max pursed her lips, "I have those too," she confessed quietly and her head hung low. Irene looked over at her, sending her the kindest smile she could as she nudged her side.

"Hey, we'll get over the hill. I promise. It just takes time." Her voice was soft and brought Max the comfort she needed. Everyone kept telling her it would 'get better' but no one ever talked about how it got worse first; Irene always told her the truth – what she needed to hear.

She was the only one Max felt comfortable enough to talk to about anything, mainly because she was the only other girl in the group, outside of El. It wasn't entirely the same but she still felt seen when talking to her – she made the grieving process more bearable. The way she went about getting Max to open up was different than the school counselor or the boys, it was always casual conversation that somehow turned deep. She appreciated that Irene wasn't constantly demanding a response out of her.

The boys' were trying their hardest to move on from the event, and while they didn't blame them, the two girls couldn't help but feel jealous. Dustin and Mike were already looking into joining Hawkins' DND club as well as Lucas who was also trying out for the basketball team too. Max kept to herself when they hung out during lunch; it was hard to catch Irene at times. But the boys never really paid attention when she was there anyways trying her hardest to keep them glued together, despite slaying her own inner dragons. Their continental drift was noticeable, yet none of them really liked to talk about it.

Everything was changing and they all seemed to be going their separate ways, but the distance that the two let grow between them and the group was evident.

Max knew a lot more than the others though and vice versa. She knew Irene wasn't entirely alone. Lately, the extremely observant red-head would catch glimpses of Irene and some guy, whom she later found out was the school's proclaimed 'freak' and head of the DND club Hellfire, talking and sharing gentle moments when she would pass the art studio during lunch. Sometimes when they got off the bus, he'd be waiting for her too.

When it came to Max, Irene knew a lot of small details about her life that the boys didn't. She was the first to know when her stepdad left and when they were moving – the red-head took both of those events really hard and Irene was by her side the entire time. Within the span of two months, the two grew closer than ever and it was a simple bus ride that started it all.

The bus came to a stop and they finally arrived at Hawkins High. As they parted ways Irene grabbed Max's attention and then dug into her backpack for something, "Before I forget, we just got this new shipment of cassettes at Vince's and when I gave this a listen I just kind of thought you might like it. Maybe it'll speak to you or something." She shrugged as she handed a tape, titled Hounds of Love, to Max.

She scrunched her face as she examined the object, "Kate Bush? Never heard of her before."

"She got big in the UK for her song Wuthering Heights but they're saying that this could be the album that really puts her on the charts here. I swear you'll like her and if you don't I'll bring you cinnamon rolls for a week." Max laughed genuinely, the corners of her eyes crinkling – light erupted in her face.

"Rena, you bring me something every morning already." She quipped and the older teen rolled her eyes.

"Okay, fine. I'll let you pick another tape or vinyl from the shop and I'll pay for it. But I swear you're going to like this one!" The spiel she gave was convincing enough for Max to take the tape and place it in her backpack, promising to give it a listen when she got home.

It had become Irene's 'thing,' since she started working with Sam at his dad's record shop, to give unsolicited music recommendations. Mike and Dustin would let her go on about the music she thought would fit them well, however Lucas and Max were truly the only ones to actually listen to the songs she recommended. They were just happy that she was talking to them when she would go on music tangents – that was the only time they all really engaged with each other.

As Irene walked through the sea of teenagers, she kept her head down and blocked out the sounds of cheer for the weekend with her headphones. Thankfully, without any harm done she made it to homeroom and sat in her usual seat near the left corner. A soft sigh fell from her lips as she plopped down. Brushing back her curls with her clammy hand she let her eyes travel around the empty chairs near her and then up to the front at her teacher who sat comfortably at her desk.

Music played softly as she pulled out her sketchbook and worked on the outline for her upcoming art project. It was supposed to be a portrait of either someone famous or of someone extremely influential in her life. To fulfill the wishes of Ms. Kelly, she decided to paint her brother. Her mother had the perfect picture of Mateo when he was younger; he hated getting his picture taken, but this one was candid and he had the biggest smile.

With a piercing screech the bell rang, echoing against the partially empty classroom walls, making her flinch. Chatter filled the atmosphere as students piled into class and suddenly it was like she had been submerged into reality – thrust back into her body and forced to interact with the world again.

She looked beside her at the empty seat and pursed her lips. Either he woke up late or he's ditching and I have a feeling it's not the first one, she thought to herself as she put her sketchbook into her backpack and fished for her English notebook. The rest of the period went by fairly quickly due to the underlying excitement of the weekend.

She prepared herself the best she could for her test and then caught up on a few other assignments as well before the bell had chimed and it was time for her to head to her next class. As she turned the corner of the hallway a figure collided with her, sending whatever they were holding to the floor.

"Ah, shit! I'm really sorry about that." The person stammered and as she reached down to help pick up their things she let out a sigh.

"Henderson, when will you learn to look both ways? I told you, navigating these hallways is like driving – check all your blindspots." She reminded the boy and gave him a once-over as she plopped his math textbook into his hands, "Nice shirt." Her head motioned toward the Weird Al tee he was wearing as her fingers picked at the sleeve. He swatted it away and fixed his shirt, glaring at her.

"Thanks," He grumbled before narrowing his eyes.  "Also, why would I take driving advice from someone who's never even touched the wheel of a car?" The low blows always seemed to emit from the teen with ease and it never ceased to surprise Irene how he thought of them off the top of his head.

She frowned, "Okay, I'm gonna consider that you're probably not having the best morning and pretend you didn't just insult the fact that I never learned how to drive."

A wave of realization came over him and a sigh fell from his lips, "Sorry Rena I just–"

"Don't sweat it, kid." She placed a hand on his shoulder – it was the first time they'd really talked by themselves since the summer; usually the only time they heard from Irene was at lunch not only because they never seemed to catch her in the halls but she also never wanted to hang out. She tried to keep it bright between the group, but they all could tell her light was beginning to dim.

"Well, I'll let you go. You seem fairly eager to get to your next class." She joked lightly and they both shared awkward smiles before moving around each other and continuing their separate journey's to class. That was the last time Dustin saw her; she nor Max showed up at lunch. However, the boys were preoccupied with the senior standing at the head of their table handing out fliers for the DND club they were desperately trying to get into. They didn't notice the two missing members of their group and the rift tore further apart.

Irene sat tucked away from the world inside Hawkins art classroom. Despite the looming presence of fall, the sun beamed through the glass windows and casted a warm glow across her face. The only sounds evident were her pencil scratching against her sketchbook and the faint whisper of whatever cassette Mr. Herrera, her art teacher, was playing on his radio. She didn't feel like being surrounded by so many people, so she took a detour and decided to spend her lunch in the company of art.

She stared at the picture, really sinking into the memory of her brother and then her train of thought traveled to what happened that morning. A cloud moved over the sun, causing the room to darken. A deep sorrow planted itself in the center of her chest that morning. She was itching to get out of the hollowed skeleton she'd nestled into, but the numbing comfort her grief brought was making it a lot harder to just run away and she was terrified that it had made a home in her.

She was practically finished with her sketch when the bell rang and her peers piled into the room, some sending the girl weird looks.

"Okay, are you gonna help me with my portrait today or are you just ignore me again because you get a kick out of watching me fail?" Gareth's voice filled her ears as she placed a canvas against her easel and organized her paints. She glanced over at the junior who was setting up his easel next to hers and propping his nine by eleven canvas against it.

They didn't realize that they were in the same art class after they conveniently found out through Eddie. It took some time for Gareth to warm up to Irene especially after she 'stood up his friend' and forced him and the other guys to listen to 'the shit she called music.' Nonetheless, after a few weeks of really getting to know each other the two formed a small friendship. They, in a way, were each other's confidants when it came to making fun of the rude jocks in their class or even cracking jokes about each other's paintings. Gareth's quiet yet equally flamboyant personality was extremely refreshing.

She rolled her eyes, "It's not my fault you always goof off when I try to help." Her frail fingers moved the brush back and forth in elegant strokes as she turned her attention back to her piece.

"That's such bullshit and you know it," Gareth scoffed half heartedly. "Everytime I ask for help you pretend you can't hear me with your headphones on and then proceed to turn up your music." He argued and she looked at him boredly before placing her brush down and fully turning to him and his canvas.

"Where's your sketch?" She questioned and when he opened his sketchbook and turned to an empty page her eyes widened, "You haven't done anything?!" She groaned and he held his hands up in defense.

"Look, I can explain! It's been a busy couple of days, Eddie's been working on these recruitment posters for Hellfire and so I've been spending a lot of time at club meetings trying to help and–" Irene pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a dismissive wave of her hand, prompting the boy to stop mid-ramble.

"It's fine, Gareth." She sighed and even though she was only two years older than him, her tone was very motherly. "You're lucky I'm on my actual painting already and that Mr. H extended the due date because if it were any other way your ass would be grass." She quipped and he shoved her lightly.

They spent the rest of the period working on his outline and when class was over she made him promise that he would finish the piece in the upcoming days so that he could turn it in on time. He vowed to do so and then the two parted, losing each other in the sea of their peers as they walked their separate ways. The day was almost at its end and Irene was ready to watch Lucas' basketball tryouts and then go home and spend the weekend snuggled in her blankets reading The Hobbit – as once recommended by Eddie.

Her last class flew by just as quickly as the rest and she was glad to be done with her test, considering she was fairly confident in her answers but overall still extremely nervous – she spent far too much time second guessing herself.

She found herself squeezing through the crowd. ABBA's Super Trouper album played passionately in her headphones as she walked out of the building and into the main parking lot of Hawkins.

She cupped her hands over her mouth and blew before rubbing them together and shoving them into the pockets of her jean jacket. Her feet bobbed back and forth while she waited for Lucas to meet her. She took the time to admire the tree's that towered behind the main building – they were an alluring rusted orange and sepia brown. Their leaves had been scattered all across the parking lot and in the field as well, dressing the school up just in time for fall.

Her eyes then lingered to the groups of friends that hung around their cars or near the bike racks, conversing with each other and just having what seemed to be a good time. A small smile lit up her stoic face once her gaze fell onto the infamous Hellfire Club, or otherwise known as the band Corroded Coffin, lingering around Eddie's van laughing with each other and enjoying the presence of friends. Without missing a beat his eyes found hers and he quickly excused himself from the group and jogged toward her, a boyish grin plastered across his face.

He hadn't seen her all day – considering the fact that he woke up extremely late and didn't make it to their homeroom and was busy recruiting freshmen for Hellfire at lunch so he wasn't able to meet her in the art studio. Nevertheless, to catch her after school was like the Lord's work because the bus was always early and she was always rushing to get on with the red-head she hung around. Not only that but she seemed to be distancing herself from him (and her other friends) lately.

"Hey, sunshine." He breathed, placing his hands on his hips as he took a deep breath. The nickname managed to cast a bashful flush across her cheeks. She shook her head and sunk her hands deeper into her pockets, trying to find some kind of warmth. The faint sound of 'The Winner Takes It All' could be heard from her headphones.

"You know you don't have to call me that everytime you see me." Her voice was quiet, in contrast to its usually chipper vibrato. He knew he didn't have to, but the nickname fell from his lips with so much ease as if it called to her. Not only that but it was a gentle reminder of the light that burned so fervently inside of her. No matter how hard grief was trying to snuff her flame he wanted her to know that he saw her glimmer – the ember of her core desperately trying to find its spark. The shift was evident and he didn't want her to forget who she was; he didn't want her to lose that shine.

"How'd the exam go? I know I said I'd help you study in homeroom and I'm sorry I wasn't there. I was up all night putting the final touches on our fliers and woke up super late." His tone was genuine and there was an evident weariness in his face as he spoke to her.

She shrugged,"It's okay; I think I did alright."

He gave an exaggerated roll to his eyes, "Oh come on, Rena. You and I both know you probably knocked it out of the park." He'd fallen into the routine of reminding her how smart she was because she had a habit of dwindling herself down. She couldn't help it though, considering the only compliments she ever got were always a backhanded, 'you're smart, you know, for a Mexican.' Nevertheless, Eddie's admiration for her brain was always genuine and she appreciated it.

Finally she gave in, fluffing her ego, "I mean...it was fairly easy, I don't know why I was so worried." She admitted, shaking her head, and his face brightened. A brief silence wiggled its way between them and Irene clutched the straps of her backpack, turning all of her concentration toward the outro of the song playing in her headphones.

"Oh!" Eddie piped up, startling her. "Sorry.  I just remembered, a buddy of mine is having this party Sunday night and I was wondering if you wanted to go." The offer was a long shot, considering Irene was not the party type at all, but he wanted to get her out of the shell she was retreating to. After their talk and ride home a few weeks back, the two hung around frequently but he could tell that there was still something that hovered over her. He'd never seen the sun look so...dull.

She scrunched her face, "A party? That's a school night and you know my mom will kill me if she finds out about it. She's like becoming Chief Powell's right hand and that's saying something considering him and Callahan are really close. And I know I'm an adult and can make my own decisions –"

"Rena," He placed his hands on her shoulders and she looked at him with an anxiety ridden face. "We don't have to go if you're not comfortable," He said and she heaved a breath. "How does a movie sound instead?"

"I like movies." She mumbled with a nod and his dimpled smile eased her nerves. His hands dropped to his sides before he brought them together.

"Okay at mine or yours?" He questioned and as she was about to answer Lucas' silhouette standing near the entrance to the gym caught her eye. He sent her a small wave and she turned her gaze back to Eddie.

"How about I call you when I get home and we can talk about it then? I've really got to go." She rushed and began angling her body to leave. He nodded slowly and before they could exchange goodbyes she was jogging toward the gym. He watched her hug one of the kids she always hung around at lunch before the two of them walked inside. He walked back to his van feeling both excited and nervous. To his dismay, she never called.

AUTHORS NOTE!

dudes, it's been forever since we last seen each other! how is everyone? how are we coping with everything? clearly, if you couldn't tell, irene is going through a lot and i didn't want to start off with like something super happy and cute because even though its tempting, the reality of grief and loss is that it's very dark and shadowy and oftentimes not very pretty at all. however, we will see her overcome it — but it won't be easy at all.

also! the ending was not meant to be ominous at all so if you're thinking something spooky, it's okay. I just wanted to showcase the duality of Irene's emotions and how she portrays something completely different than what's actually going on inside. she hates making promises she can't keep, but she also just can't find the motivation right now — like I said, grief is not all sunshine and rainbows.

anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this little chapter. I kind of just wanted it to be simple and give you insight into how things are leading to the events of season four — like a how did we get here? kind of chapter. (also, yes, rena is definitely going to be the biggest lucas supporter this season and I'm so excited for their friendship to unfold because he deserved so much more support from his friends this season and I could go on and on about it)

let me know your thoughts and predictions for act two!

until next time <3