Tales of a Forgotten Past (3)

He hadn't even noticed time passing as he kept his eyes glued to the window, mesmerized by the world rushing by. But slowly, the fields gave way to buildings, and Steven's wonder began to fade. By the time they reached Chicago, he was curled up and overwhelmed in the back seat.

The light, peaceful mood of the road had been replaced by something heavy and claustrophobic. There were so many people, so many emotions clashing around him all at once.

He lowered his head and pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to block out the flood. It was too much. His tolerance for other people's emotions couldn't handle the cacophony of a crowded city. What were his own feelings? Where did he begin and where did he end? Outrage, regret, shame, contempt, guilt, excitement, loneliness, happiness, anxiety, gratitude, pride, and more. All mixing together at once, suffocating him.

Steven wanted to scream, to cry, to run away. He wanted to go back to the open road, where the world was vast and quiet, or to the silent safety of his home in Hawkins. Anywhere but here.

Then suddenly, just when he thought he might explode, a hand touched his leg, grounding him.

"Are you okay, Steven?" Mary's voice cut through the chaos, and the direct contact made her feelings rise above the rest.

Concern, compassion, and a hint of curiosity. Her emotions were like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. Steven looked up, meeting her gaze. "I... I'm just a little scared."

Mary squeezed his thigh gently, her face softening with an understanding smile. "Well, a big city can be a bit overwhelming the first time. Right, James?"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess so," James replied absentmindedly, slowing the car and stopping at a light.

"Can I... hold your hand?" Steven asked, afraid she might say no.

"Of course you can," Mary said with a smile, taking his hand. "Better?"

"...yeah."

********

Steven didn't really understand what a hotel was—he just knew it was a place where you could stay for a while. It seemed confusing, but he decided he'd ask Mary about it later. For now, he just followed the Harringtons, stepping into a lobby that left him speechless. The place was beautiful, with a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting golden lights that danced on the walls. The air smelled clean and slightly sweet, so different from the heavy stench of the city outside.

At the reception, James was talking to an elegant woman. Mary, beside him, spoke with a man wearing a strange hat who was stacking the luggage onto a gleaming cart. Steven looked away from them and saw himself reflected in a large mirror on the wall.

The oversized shirt hung from his thin frame, making him look a bit ridiculous, but what really caught his attention was the hair. Tiny strands had started to grow, slightly covering his scalp. He reached up to his head and noticed it no longer felt so rough. Steven didn't even know that was possible.

"Come on, Steven," Mary called, offering her hand. James was already by the elevator door, his face closed off.

Steven ran to catch up with them, but when the doors slid open, he froze, remembering the last time he'd been in an elevator— Blood pouring from his nose into his mouth. Flashing lights. Eight's terrified screams. A line of bodies down the hallway—

"Steven, hurry up," James's harsh voice broke out, and Steven returned to the hotel lobby. He rushed into the elevator and apologized, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. The doors closed, and as the elevator ascended, he eased James's irritation and the worry that had begun to show in Mary. He really didn't want to open his mouth for the next few minutes.

When the elevator doors opened again, he made sure to stay close behind them all the way to the room.

********

Steven was facing a big challenge.

Since he was alone in the hotel room — James and Mary had gone to get the adoption papers — it was up to him to order dinner.

Mary had explained how room service worked before they left, saying it was super easy. But it wasn't! There were so many options, he didn't know what to choose. Something salty? Or sweet? He really wanted to try the chocolate cake, but he was also curious about the pizza. Maybe both? James wouldn't be mad... right? He had said Steven could order whatever he wanted!

He stared at the menu for a few minutes before making a decision. "I'll get both!"Steven turned around, grabbed the phone awkwardly — he had never used one before — and dialed reception. He heard a strange ring, then another, and finally someone picked up.

"Hello, you've reached the kitchen at the Plaza Hotel. How can I help you?"

Steven pulled the phone away from his ear, gave it a suspicious look, then pressed it back against his head. "Hello?"

"Yes?"

Weird. Very weird. For as long as he could remember, Steven had always felt people's emotions when he spoke to them. But through the phone, he felt nothing! It was scary, like walking in the dark with no light at all. "Hi... hum. I'd like to order food."

"Of course, sir. What would you like?" the voice asked.

"Um, uh." His mind went blank. He glanced quickly at the menu. "I want a pizza and a chocolate cake."

"What flavor?"

"What?"

"The flavor of the pizza, sir."

Pizzas had flavors too?! Steven looked at the menu again and saw the list of flavors under the big "Pizzas" heading. "I... I'll have a pepperoni one."

"Okay. One pepperoni pizza and a chocolate cake, correct?"

"Yes."

"Anything to drink?"

"... do you have chocolate milk?"

"... Yes, we do."

Even without being able to feel the woman's emotion, Steven had the distinct impression he was being judged. "I'll take it."

"Which room should we deliver it to?"

"Hmm... 304."

"Okay, sir. Your order will be delivered in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

"Our pleasure, sir."

"...."

"...."

"Anything else, sir?"

"No."

"Then please don't forget to hang up."

"Oh, right, sorry." Steven put the phone back, his face flushed with embarrassment.

********

A few hours later, Steven was sprawled out on the bed with a bloated stomach, his face marked by a mix of satisfaction and mild regret. The room service tray sat on the table, with pizza leftovers and a piece of cake staining the plate. An empty mug, with traces of chocolate, rested beside it.

The door to the room clicked open, and Steven lifted his head to see Mary and James walk in. Mary carried a folder full of papers, her emotions seeming to light up the room. James, on the other hand, was frowning, his eyes scanning the mess on the table.

"Oh my God, Steven, what did you eat?" Mary exclaimed, laughing as she walked over to the bed. She sat at the edge, placing the folder down beside her and looking at his belly with a mix of amusement and concern. "Looks like you overdid it... again."

Steven gave a shy smile. "I think so," he murmured, half-sleepy.

James huffed, already grabbing the tray with an air of impatience. "Next time, clean up when you're done," he grumbled, taking the tray to the corner of the room and dumping the crumbs into the trash.

Mary didn't seem to notice her husband's grumpiness. Her eyes were shining as she opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Steven, look at this!" she said, practically vibrating with excitement. "These are the adoption papers! Everything's here, signed and stamped. It's official now — you're Steven Harrington."

She held the documents in front of him, pointing at the lines filled with black ink, the stamp in the corner of the page. Steven sat up, his heart racing as he looked at the papers. It was real. Not a dream, not a fragile promise — it was proof that he belonged somewhere.

Now, his roots in society were planted. But it still wasn't enough — he needed to go deeper, so that pulling him out would be impossible without leaving a gaping hole.

He needed to become known.

***

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.