*viii.

                                    

                                          
18 YEARS LATER
May 30th, 2004
⏰ 11:30 am, 📍Los Angeles, California
༺♥༻ Stephanie Harrington closes her laptop shut, yawning and checking the time on her nightstand, glancing at an old framed picture of herself and an old friend. 
Impatiently tapping her fingers on her laptop, she opens it again, closing a Microsoft Word tab named "Mean Girls—Final Draft", and news articles of the box office records. She opens a Yahoo! tab, only to close it after. 
Stupid. I haven't thought of her in years. There's no point now.
Scoffing at her own idiocy, Stephanie gets out of bed and goes into the kitchen, where various pieces of mail lay untouched. Influenced by mere boredom, Stephanie sorts through the pile, a red envelope catching her eye with her name—rather, her nickname—written in half print-half cursive handwriting. 
She rips open the envelope to see a folded up handwritten letter. She quietly gasps as she starts to read. 
Dear Steph, 
It's been years since we've talked. I know I should have been reaching out more, but I just didn't know if you wanted anything to do with me anymore. When your movie came out and I saw you in magazines and news articles, I decided it was probably time to rekindle. I left my phone number. Call whenever you want. 
Love, Max
"Holy shit," Stephanie whispers to herself. She immediately searches for her phone, running into her room and grabbing it off her desk. Stopping in front of the mirror, she thinks. Looking into her reflection, she asks herself if she really wants this. Her gaze travels down to three faded scars on her stomach. Does she really want to go back? To those memories? Everything that happened in Hawkins? If it means reconnecting with Max, Stephanie would just about to anything. 
Once she punches in the numbers, she brings the phone to her ear, praying Max will pick up. 
"Hello, you've reached Maxine Mayfield, who's this?" 
Stephanie's eyes well with tears once she hears Max's voice. 
"Hello?"
"Sorry, Max. It's me, I got your letter." 
"Steph?" her voice sounds deeper now, less fake as before.
 "Yeah?" 
"I can't believe you actually called."
"I can't believe you actually reached out." 
"It's not like it's been almost two decades."
This is it. What Stephanie has been missing. 
"When can I see you? In person, I mean." 
"As soon as possible." 
"Where are you even living now?" 
"I moved back to San Diego after college, I wanted the nostalgia back." 
"San Diego? That's...that's only two hours from here. Send me your address, I'm on the way."