#the way holly is effectively wearing nancys old dress....

[wheelercore]

So funny how both rosemary "constume" scenes were nancy's clothes. Els s1 pink dress and robins s4 pennhurst outfit. And that paralleled hollys pink dress in s4 sitting happy on front of the mantleplace. El calling nancy "pretty" and the "rose is hot" bathroom graffiti in hawkins middle s2 (and mike getting in trouble in the same season for graffiti in the bathroom at school). Nancys ballerina necklace plus robin feeling choked by nancys clothes plus el literally being choked by the ud vine on front of the rose door... Wait wait wait waut.....

[ihni]

Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis

(On AO3)

Motel 6 on Cornwallis is close enough to Hawkins for it to only take a ten minute drive to get there, but out of the way enough that there are no watchful eyes or nosy neighbors. The building is old, the rooms run-down. But it’s cheap, it’s clean, and it’s perfect for privacy; for clandestine meetings and dealings that may or may not be on the right side of legal.

Seated on a surprisingly soft bed with an unsurprisingly ugly bedspread, Billy looks towards the window when the sharp light of a car’s headlights from outside travels across the room, illuminating the tacky 60’s interior in increments. There is a sound of tires on gravel, and then a moment of silence once the engine is turned off. He leans back on his elbows, shakes his hair out. Spreads his legs just so in his tight jeans. He’s freshly showered, dressed in one of his nicest shirts which he has unbuttoned halfway down his chest. He knows he looks good. Still, he takes one last look in the mirror that hangs over the dresser, to make sure he paints the kind of alluring picture he aspires to.

Perhaps the person in the car outside also takes the time for a couple of finishing touches, because it’s almost a minute before there’s a sound of a car door opening and closing outside. Another couple of seconds before footsteps move towards the door.

Billy asked for the room furthest away from the office, the one with the most privacy. His car is parked outside. The person approaching definitely knows that he is here – and why.

He clears his throat. Pastes a smile onto his face. When there is a tap on the door, he keeps his voice low and husky when he calls out, “Come in.”

The door opens to reveal Karen Wheeler, dressed to the nines in a red dress with a low neckline. Her hair is expertly done up and she’s wearing make-up as if she’s on her way to attending a gala instead of an extramarital affair in a dingy motel. She’s even wearing high heels.

Must have been a bitch to walk with those on the pebbles outside.

She has a handbag slung over one shoulder, which she hangs on the back of a chair as she closes the door behind her and walks into the room. Her smile is a little wobbly – nerves, probably – but she doesn’t hesitate.

Neither does Billy.

“Mrs. Wheeler,” he purrs and makes a show out of looking her up and down. “Looking good.”

Her face doesn’t color – she’s wearing too much make-up for that – but she averts her eyes bashfully for a second. When she turns back to face him again, she’s biting her lip and there’s something hungry in her eyes. Something that makes the smile on Billy’s face falter slightly.

Still, he stays on the bed as she approaches. Doesn’t move as she kicks off her shoes and leans down over him, and barely even flinches as she puts a knee on the edge of the bed, right between his legs. She leans forward, opens her mouth on an exhale and goes in for a kiss …

And jerks to a halt when Billy’s hand catches her wrist, effectively stopping her hand inches from his face, where she was reaching out to touch him. A wrinkle of confusion appears between her eyebrows – and this close, Billy can see the other wrinkles on her face, the small ones that speak of years passing.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, leaning back a bit.

He is still smiling, but it’s no longer seductive. No, the smile on his face now does not reach his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he repeats, with a disbelieving huff. “One would think you’d be able to answer that yourself, Mrs. Wheeler.” He wrenches her hand up between them, showing off the gold band that’s still around her ring finger. “Tell me, does your husband know where you are right now?”

Karen splutters and yanks out of his grip. Billy lets her. He sits up and continues, “Do your children?” He cocks his head to the side mockingly. “Nancy, Michael and little Holly.”

“What …?” Karen starts, backing away, her eyes are darting around the room. “What is this?”

He stands up, but stays by the edge of the bed. “That’s a good question, actually. A married woman, showing up at an old motel in the middle of the night. Dressed like that.” He nods towards her outfit, and one of her hands flies up to cover her cleavage. “Meeting with a teenager, the same age as her daughter.”

“No,” Karen says, voice wavering. “No, that’s not …”

“But it is,” Billy interrupts her. “Isn’t it? You know very well that I’m in Nancy’s class. Hell, we competed for Valedictorian. And yet, you and your friends showed up at the pool every day, looking to get a piece of me.” He gestures with his hands, holds them away from his body. Puts himself on display. “Well, here I am.” He gives her another once-over, barely hiding his contempt. “And here you are.”

“Stop it.”

He laughs. “Stop what? I’m just telling you the truth the way I see it. The way anyone with eyes would see it, if they knew.”

The color drains from her face, visible even under the layers of foundation and rouge. “You … You wouldn’t …”

“Tell?” he finishes for her, and taps a finger to his chin as he pretends to think. “I don’t know. What would I have to gain by telling anyone?” She relaxes a fraction, at least until he continues, “Then again, what would I have to gain by keeping quiet? Seems to me, the only one who has anything to lose here, is you.”

She is shaking now, looking far from the confident woman who entered the room a couple of minutes ago. “What do you want? Is it money?”

He laughs, long and hard. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Karen. Ask yourself what your family wants. I’m sure your husband would like for you to be faithful to him. And I’m sure your kids would prefer it if you didn’t fool around with someone who goes to school with them – I’m pretty sure they’d hate that, actually, because they don’t even like me much. And little Holly, well …” He cocks his head to the side again. “I’m sure she just wants her mommy to be home with her instead of whoring around.”

Karen opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, indignant but speechless, and Billy shrugs. “But sure, money won’t hurt.” He motions to the room around them; the ugly wallpaper, the outdated décor. “I did shell out for the room, after all.”

Turning her back to him, perhaps to hide whatever expression is on her face, Karen walks up to the chair and reaches for her handbag. Her hands are shaking when she rifles through it and she won’t look at him when she emerges from it with a handful of bills which she slams down onto the table by the window.

“Thanks,” he says, making her flinch with how close he’s gotten while she wasn’t looking – because life has taught Billy to move silently, when needed – and reaches out for the bills. He doesn’t count them, just pockets them blindly and takes a step back from her.

Her back is still to him, and as he walks around her to get to the door, she turns so he won’t see her face.

“Feel free to peruse the room,” Billy says mockingly. “It’s paid for the night, and I’m sure you have a lot of things to think about.”

With his hand on the door handle, he hesitates. Swallows. And then says, seemingly to the wood of the door, “You know, my mom left me and my dad when I was … I think, a couple of years younger than your son.” There’s a soft gasp behind him, which he ignores. “She’d be the same age as you, Mrs. Wheeler. Maybe younger.” He takes a deep breath. “This is the kind of shit that can break a family. I advise you to think long and hard about what you have. And what you were willing to throw it all away for.”

And with that, he opens the door and walks out.

No one sees him leave. There are no watchful eyes or nosy neighbors here. It’s just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis.