chapter fiftern:
❛ rink-o-mania ❜

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Wren and Mike stepped off the plane, the California heat hitting them immediately. The air was thick with the scent of the ocean, a stark contrast to the familiar humidity of Hawkins. Wren's hands were shoved in his pockets, his eyes narrowed as he looked around, already irritated. This wasn't his idea. Not by a long shot. The whole situation felt like an inconvenience, and he wasn't thrilled about being dragged into Mike's world.

The tension between the two was palpable as Mike, who was already smiling, walked toward Eleven, his face lighting up when he saw her. She sprinted towards him, a huge grin plastered on her face, and without hesitation, she pulled Mike into a tight, affectionate kiss. The sight made Wren roll his eyes. He knew they'd act like this, but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.

He turned on his heel, walking away from the two of them as they lost themselves in their little bubble. Wren couldn't even muster the energy to pretend he was happy to be there. He didn't want to be here, didn't care about the plans or the group or anything else. He didn't want to watch them all act like things were normal, when everything felt off.

With a frustrated sigh, he headed outside, pushing through the automatic doors of the terminal. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes scanning the horizon. His thoughts were miles away, as far from California as he could get. He wasn't here for fun or sunshine, and he sure as hell wasn't here to make small talk. He was just waiting for the rest of them to catch up.

Minutes passed, and soon, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind him. Without looking back, he knew it was Eleven, her voice rising in excitement as she neared.

"Wren!" she called, and before he could react, she threw herself into his arms, pulling him into a tight hug.

Wren stiffened, feeling the weight of her embrace but not returning it. He just stood there, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he shifted his stance. His mind was elsewhere-he couldn't get caught up in this. Not right now.

"Hi, El," he muttered, his voice flat. He felt her hesitation, the lack of his usual warmth in his greeting.

She pulled back slightly, her brows furrowing. There was a flicker of confusion in her eyes as she searched his face. "You didn't call me Jane," she said quietly, her tone tinged with concern. She always loved when he called her by her real name, but this time, he hadn't.

Wren looked down at her for a moment before forcing a small smile. "Yeah, well... I don't know. Just wasn't in the mood."

Eleven frowned, her expression softening, but she didn't push him. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle, a slight hesitation there.

Wren's heart clenched at the concern in her eyes, but he pushed it down, plastering on the most convincing facade he could muster. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just missing my girlfriend, that's all," he lied through his teeth, hoping the subject would move on.

At the mention of his girlfriend, both Will and Eleven looked at him, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Girlfriend?!" Will blurted, his eyebrows raised. "Since when?"

Wren's eyes darted from Will to Eleven, and then he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Yeah, Lucy. Can we go now?" he muttered, his tone sharp, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything too personal.

But Mike, who had finally caught up with them, overheard the comment and immediately snapped, his tone angry. "Wren, what the hell's your problem? Stop acting like you're too good to be here. We're all just trying to be a team."

Wren shot Mike a glare, his patience already worn thin. He opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself. Instead, he turned toward Eleven, giving her a curt nod. "Let's go," he said, not wanting to waste any more time on the situation.

Eleven glanced between them, the tension thick between the two boys, but she didn't say anything more. She just nodded and stepped forward, leading the group out of the terminal. Wren stayed a few paces behind them, his thoughts once again clouding his mind, the anger and frustration only growing with each step. He was here, and he was stuck-just like he always seemed to be. But at least he wasn't pretending everything was okay.

Arygle's van came to a screeching halt in front of Rink-O-Mania, the sound of the brakes squealing briefly echoing in the otherwise quiet parking lot. Mike was the first to move, quickly unbuckling himself from his seat and hopping out. He practically rushed to Eleven's side, offering his hand to help her out. Eleven, her face lighting up with the same familiar smile, took his hand without hesitation. Mike gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, as if making a public display of how happy he was to have her back.

Wren and Will were a step behind, walking side by side, their eyes scanning the scene. Will's face was tight with discomfort, and despite the cheer of the roller rink, his expression carried a weight Wren could easily read.

"You okay?" Wren asked softly, his voice low as he reached out and grabbed Will's wrist. The touch was firm, grounding.

Will hesitated, his gaze flicking towards Mike and Eleven, who were already walking inside, locked in their little world of jokes and soft words. Will's voice cracked slightly as he replied, frustration seeping through. "Mike hasn't even said 'happy birthday' to me yet... And El... El's already ordering us around. She's lying about things, and I don't even know if you want to be here," he added, his words rushing out like a floodgate opening. The anxiety and hurt were clear in his voice, and the frustration that had been building for days finally bled through.

Wren let out a deep breath, feeling the weight of Will's words. He didn't need to ask what he meant-he understood perfectly. He reached up and gave Will's wrist a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'm sorry, man. And happy birthday," Wren said, a brief attempt to break the tension. Will gave him a small, tight-lipped smile in return, but it didn't reach his eyes. It wasn't enough to ease the storm brewing in both of them.

"I feel you though," Wren continued, his tone taking on a darker edge. "I can't stand here and watch Jane be all lovey-dovey with Mike."

Will gave him a confused look, his brows knitting together. "But you have a girlfriend, don't you?"

Wren shrugged, the motion dismissive. "Doesn't mean I want to see it," he muttered, feeling an odd mix of jealousy and irritation twist inside him. He quickly regretted the thought-he didn't want to make this about him, not when Will was clearly struggling.

The two of them fell into an uneasy silence as they made their way inside the rink, the sound of the old school roller-skating rink greeting them as they stepped into the brightly lit area. The scent of popcorn and the echo of the disco ball spinning above filled the space. Mike and Eleven were already at the front desk, chatting animatedly with the attendant, discussing their skates. Wren barely noticed the exchange; his focus was already on getting what he came for and getting away from the uncomfortable energy swirling around.

He made a beeline for the counter, grabbed his skates without much thought, and then sat down on a bench in the corner, away from the group. He began to tie his skates in silence, his movements sharp and impatient, as though the act of lacing up could somehow distract him from the frustration bubbling up inside. The rink felt too crowded, the bright lights too harsh, and the happiness emanating from Mike and Eleven made his stomach churn.

Meanwhile, Will lingered for a moment, watching Mike and Eleven, his eyes lingering with something like wistfulness, before finally joining Wren on the bench. He sat down quietly, eyes trained on the floor, clearly not interested in skating yet. He wasn't in the mood, and Wren could tell he wasn't about to push him.

"Are you gonna skate or just sulk all night?" Wren asked, trying to break the silence, his voice carrying a hint of teasing, though it was forced.

Will didn't answer right away, still sitting with his shoulders hunched. He finally muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "I don't know if I want to. Everything's... different now."

Wren gave him a quick, empathetic glance. He understood. It was hard to ignore the way everything felt off when Mike and Eleven acted like the world revolved around them. But Wren had his own problems to deal with-ones that involved him being stuck in this awkward group dynamic. His thoughts were all over the place, and the last thing he wanted was to watch Mike and Eleven play happy couple while they pretended the world didn't exist.

"I get it," Wren said, his voice quieter now. "But let's just get through tonight. No more of this pity party shit."

Will let out a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, grabbing his own skates and slipping them on.

They both stood up, their gaze drifting to Mike and Eleven, still locked in their own world. Wren couldn't help the tinge of resentment that flickered in his chest as he saw them laughing, completely unaware of the tensions building between the others.

Tonight was going to be long. But Wren had learned that sometimes, the only way to survive moments like this was to keep moving, keep pretending everything was fine, until it finally was-or until it completely fell apart.

The music pumped through the speakers, the steady beat of the disco mix blending with the echo of skates gliding over the rink floor. Wren moved effortlessly, his body in sync with the music, a skill he'd honed over years of skating around places like this. Will was a few steps behind him, his hesitant movements barely keeping up with the pace of Mike and Eleven, who were skating hand-in-hand in their little world of smiles and whispered conversations.

Wren couldn't help but roll his eyes as he glanced over at them. The couple was completely wrapped up in each other, oblivious to everything else around them. He could practically feel the sickening sweetness of it all. Will, meanwhile, seemed to be having the same problem, his gaze flickering from Mike and Eleven to the floor, his body language tense as if he couldn't quite find a comfortable place in the scene. Wren gave him a sympathetic glance before pulling ahead.

"I'm gonna take a breather. You good?" Wren called back to Will, his voice slightly drowned out by the music.

Will nodded but didn't say anything. Wren gave him a reassuring smile, but there was no real warmth behind it-he didn't have the energy for it tonight. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere near Mike and Eleven. So, without waiting for a response, Wren glided off the rink and skated towards the exit, pushing through the side door that led out to the parking lot.

The cool night air hit him the moment he stepped outside, a welcome relief from the heat of the rink. Wren inhaled deeply, pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He didn't bother with a lighter; the flame from a nearby streetlamp was enough to get it going. The familiar taste of smoke filled his lungs as he leaned against the wall, eyes drifting to the dark sky above. He needed the quiet. He needed the time to himself.

But his peace didn't last long.

"Hey there."

Wren looked up to see a tall blonde girl walking toward him, her confidence evident in the way she carried herself. She had that 'I know I look good' vibe, and her friends-who were standing a few feet behind her, giggling-looked like they were waiting for her to do something. He knew that look. He'd seen it a hundred times.

"Can I help you?" Wren said, his voice flat but not unfriendly. He wasn't in the mood to deal with some random girl who thought she could flirt her way into his attention.

She didn't seem phased by his tone. "I saw you skating back there," she said, glancing him up and down with a smirk. "You're not bad, but I gotta say, I think we'd have a lot more fun if you skated with someone like me."

Wren raised an eyebrow, his cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers. He could already tell where this was going, and he wasn't interested.

"I'm good, thanks," he replied, his voice cold, already feeling the conversation draining his patience.

The girl didn't take the hint, stepping closer, her body language shifting as she tried to push the boundaries. "Oh, come on. You sure you're not looking for a little fun? I'm Angela, by the way."

Wren took another drag from his cigarette, his gaze flicking to her briefly before looking away. "I've got a girlfriend," he said, his tone firm, no hesitation in his voice. "So no, I'm not interested."

Angela paused, her smile faltering for a second, then quickly replaced with a scoff. She glanced back at her group of friends, who were now watching the interaction, before turning back to Wren.

"Really? A girlfriend?" she sneered, clearly unimpressed. "How boring."

Without waiting for a response, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, her friends snickering as they turned on their heels. "Whatever, then," Angela said dismissively, rolling her eyes. "You're missing out."

Wren didn't even look at her as she walked away, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. The girls' laughter faded as they entered the rink, leaving him alone in the quiet once again. He flicked the ash from his cigarette and exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the air.

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered to himself, the faint taste of bitterness lingering in his mouth.

The cold night air was settling in around Wren as he leaned against the brick wall outside of Rink-O-Mania, the smoke from his cigarette rising in soft curls into the dark sky. He hadn't realized how long he'd been out here, but the peace and quiet suited him. It gave him space to breathe, to think-or at least, that was the idea. Every time his mind wandered back to the rink, he thought of how unbearable it had been with Mike and Eleven acting all lovey-dovey. He needed a distraction.

But then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

"Wren! Hey, have you seen El?" Will's voice called out, followed by the hurried sound of Mike's feet hitting the pavement. They both came to a stop, panting from the run.

Wren glanced up, flicking his cigarette to the side as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Uh, no. What's going on?"

Mike's face was filled with panic, his eyes wide. "Those girls, Angela and Stacy, they-" he shook his head, trying to keep his voice steady. "They made fun of El. And then, they threw pudding on her."

Wren's stomach clenched. His jaw tightened at the mention of those girls' names. He hated how cruel some people could be, but the image of Eleven being humiliated made his blood boil. And then the thought of her running off-alone, upset-set something off inside him.

"She ran off," Will added, his voice shaking with concern. "We've been looking for her everywhere. We couldn't find her."

Wren didn't wait another second. His feet were already in motion before either of them could say another word. "I'll find her," he muttered over his shoulder as he sprinted toward the entrance of the rink.

He burst through the door, the bright lights blinding him for a second. His heart was pounding in his chest as he scanned the room, eyes darting around desperately. He was already angry at those girls, but now that anger was transforming into something darker, a primal need to protect her.

And there, across the rink, he saw her.

Eleven was standing with Angela and Stacy-her back hunched, her hands clutching at her sides. Her cheeks were wet with tears, mascara streaking down her face, but what made Wren's blood run cold was the laughter coming from those girls. They were laughing at her.

"Fucking hell," Wren muttered under his breath. He stormed toward them, his muscles tensing with every step. This wasn't right. Not at all.

As Wren neared, he saw Angela and Stacy walk away, still snickering and throwing looks over their shoulders. Eleven stood there, frozen, a mix of rage and hurt flashing across her face. She wasn't crying now, but Wren could see it in her eyes-she was furious. The kind of fury he knew all too well. And he hated the way she had to feel it. She deserved so much more than that.

"Hey, Jane," Wren said softly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fire burning inside him. "You good?"

Eleven's eyes flicked up to him, her lips trembling slightly. "I'm fine," she said, but the words were clipped, defensive. "I'm fine," she repeated, more for herself than for him.

Wren shook his head, his protective instincts kicking in even stronger. "No, you're not," he said, stepping closer to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers curling slightly. "They'll get their karma," he muttered, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

Eleven glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "Karma?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion. She sounded almost confused, like the concept wasn't something she'd ever fully understood.

Wren didn't have the answer she was looking for, but he gave her a reassuring smile anyway. He wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, but in that moment, he knew it wouldn't be. He couldn't fix everything for her, no matter how much he wanted to.

But then, without warning, Eleven's gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto something-or rather, someone. She walked toward a nearby skater, quickly grabbing a skate from their hand. Wren's heart raced as he realized what she was doing.

"Wait, El-" he called after her, but it was too late.

"Angela!" Eleven yelled, her voice sharp and full of anger.

Angela turned around, startled, but before she could say a word, Eleven swung the skate, slamming it into Angela's nose. The sound of bone meeting metal echoed in the rink, followed by a sharp yelp of pain from Angela. She staggered back, clutching her face, blood dripping from her nose.

Wren froze, watching in disbelief. He didn't know if he was proud of her or scared for what she'd just done. He could see the fury in her eyes, her hands trembling as she held the skate tightly, her stance almost defensive. The whole room had gone silent, and all eyes were on her.

Then Mike and Will appeared beside him, running toward Eleven. Mike's eyes widened when he saw what had just happened.

"El!" Mike yelled, his voice laced with panic and disbelief. "What did you do!?" His voice rose in frustration, but his gaze quickly shifted to Wren. "What the hell did you say to her!?" Mike snapped, his hands balling into fists as he took a step toward him.

Wren didn't move, not even an inch. He scoffed, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "What do you mean, what did I say to her? I just told her they'd get their karma. What, you want me to tell her to go easy on the bitch?"

Mike's face turned red, and without warning, he shoved Wren. "You need to stop with that attitude," Mike snapped, his voice low and angry. "This isn't your fucking business."

Wren didn't back down. He'd been on the receiving end of worse, and he wasn't going to let Mike push him around. "It is my business when they hurt her," he shot back, his voice full of cold fury.

For a second, the tension hung heavy in the air. Will stood silently between them, looking from Mike to Wren, clearly unsure of how to diffuse the situation. But Wren didn't care. He wasn't going to apologize for protecting Eleven-not for a second.

Eleven stood motionless, mascara-streaked tears on her cheeks, her lips trembling but her eyes as fierce as ever. She was hurting, but she wasn't broken.

And that was all Wren needed to know.

ASH SPEAKS!!

im sorry for how shitty this chapter is:(
sorry it took me so long to update

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)