A couple of weeks had gone by. The tour was in full swing, sold out shows left and right. The group made their way around the Northeast, finally reaching their stop in New York City. They would be performing for two nights, one day in between.

Nancy couldn't contain her excitement. New York City was always a place she called home. She was from Indiana and resides in Los Angeles due to the band. But whenever she got a chance to escape, she went to the beloved city.

She owned her own apartment there. A quaint place that resides in Manhattan. She saved up most of her money from her summer jobs and the extra cash she got when Five Seconds to Hawkins first started up. It was her personal sanctuary.

Usually she would go to New York City when she was battling with her anxieties. Jonathan frequently joined her. They made the apartment their own. Pictures scattered the place of intimate photos they've taken over the years. A bookshelf took over the whole living room area. The compartment was filled to the brim with various records and plants the two had bought together.

A funky carpet took over the whole apartment: tannish base with various splashes of creams and whites. The living room was home to a loveseat, neutral color to match the carpet and bookshelf. A chair also occupied the space, full of red and soft to the touch. Coffee tables were both near the chair and the couch, creating the perfect cozy living room.

Her bedroom was nothing special. A queen-sized bed full of oranges, reds and yellows. Pillows overflowed the top of the bed, leaning against a brown headboard. The carpet pattern continued, it being Nancy's favorite part about the whole apartment. Plants hugged the bed, draped down to where one could touch them if they laid in the bed.  The band's records covered the wall above the bed. Nancy took pride in their albums, always adding onto the wall whenever they released a single or a new album.

The entirety of the apartment was simple, minimalist. Or, as minimal as it could be.

Nancy couldn't stop thinking about her safe place as she rode in the bus. Her hand gripped around a pen, jotting down ideas.

The girl was on a role. Ever since her conversation with Steve, she had been enamored with the song she wrote down. Words flowed every minute of every day. She would be eating breakfast, she got an idea. Performing on stage, it hit her like a brick. Going to bed, she hummed along to the melody she had in mind.

She took everyone into account with this song. An exaggerated, mellow riff for Eddie. Sharps sounds from Billy. Amplification of the song from Robin, backed by Mike on the drums. Max would take it home with the drive of her keyboard.

Nancy had it all mapped out. The problem relied in the lyrics, though. She hadn't asked Jonathan for help. The two hadn't talked as much since their fight. They would exchange small conversations, usually about music and how Nancy can apply corrections during shows. They stopped meeting in secret.

After leaving Steve a couple weeks ago, Nancy laid awake at night. She thought of Steve. How kind he was to her when she had her breakdown. How he sucked at comforting but used his words to make the setting better. How he had her laugh and break from a breakdown. How he was an absolute asshole and it drove her insane.

She hated to admit it but she looked at Steve in a new light. Whenever he walked into a room, her face turned bright red. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, making her body ache. She became flustered, stumbled over her words occasionally. And all Steve did was laugh it off.

Others took notice of this, too. The constant bickering had finally died down. Now, whenever Steve wanted to hang out with the group, Nancy welcomed him with open arms. Nonchalantly, she would say things like how she didn't care if he was around. That it didn't bother her anymore. It was true, other than the fact her act was noticeably off.

Nancy never told anyone about her conversation with Steve. She ached to tell at least Mike or Robin but the words never came out. She felt like it had to be kept a secret. Her secret. Their secret.

Granted, she had absolutely no idea if he told anyone about the conversation. No one approached her about it either. Even though they all had the urge to ask her what was going on. Especially Robin, considering she had practically begged Nancy to actually talk to Steve.

And now, they actually talked. They hadn't had a conversation like the night in Chicago. It was more light-hearted, usually in group settings. Steve would take and Nancy would chime in occasionally.

She wrote every night in her journal. Writing about their conversation, how it made her feel. How she still thought about it on a daily occurrence. She felt it was unfair to Jonathan how she thought about this conversation. Writing in bold lettering guilty, guilty, guilty.

Her journal was full of conversations going back and forth between herself. Thinking if it was wrong to be reminiscing on a conversation that occurred weeks ago. A talk that kept her up and made her toss and turn for hours. The last thing on her mind before turning the lights off and staring at the ceiling was if Steve thought about it. Thought about her.

She felt like she was in high school. Having a silly school-girl crush on the guy everyone adores. On the guy who would charm you just with a smile. The guy who made everyone laugh whenever he spoke.

It felt dumb. She felt dumb.

The conversation wasn't even all that great, any time she thought about it. They argued half the time. Steve made her cry. Yet, she craved the intimacy the two shared. Him sitting next to her as she cried. Steve trying to make her laugh. He cared but had a hard time showing it. And she craved that.

Steve messed with her mind. Messed with her lyrics. She knew the song was about him. How one little word changed her perspective on him forever.

Intuition.

She trusted her gut. Always trusted it. Even though her feelings had changed drastically for the assistant, Nancy knew something was off still. Off in a sense that her gut was telling her that. Telling her not to think about him anymore. Speaking to her at full volume. Screaming at Nancy to cut it out.

But she ignored it all.

a secret that we knew but should have told

considering words left to fold

i just need someone who can talk me out of the oblivious

thoughts consumed me, making me delirious

and what do you find when you look into my eyes?

do they leave you wanting more or fill your soul with guilty lies

call it intuition

call it intuition

Nancy wasn't in love with the lyrics. She had so many thoughts but it was difficult to keep track of them all. The latest pages of her journal were full of ideas but none of them seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

Jonathan usually helped her when she wrote songs. He always went over the lyrics, finding ways to make the song more amplified. More of their style. He was delete and add mores, swap out lyrics. But Nancy didn't have Jonathan by her side anymore. And she wanted this to be her song. Her voice. Her words. No one else's.

"Nancy?"

The raven-haired girl looked up from her journal to lock eyes with dark brown ones. She gulped softly, immediately slamming her journal shut. "Yeah?" She snapped, mentally slapping herself.

Steve let out a chuckle, a soft grin on his lips. He glanced at the journal, trying to make out what she was writing before she closed it. His eyes found hers again, practically melting over how blue they were. "We're in the city. Hopper wanted me to tell you since your apartment is here and all."

Nancy glanced out the window. She had been so concentrated on her journal that she didn't even realize they had arrived. Her gaze flew back to the bus, seeing that everyone was basically off the bus except the two of them. "We're here already?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Maybe if you weren't doodling you would've heard me earlier. Like five minutes ago."

Nancy rolled her eyes. The banter never dies down from him. On her end, she wasn't as snippy but threw a few punches. "Funny." She stuffed her journal in her bay before getting up.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, coming face to face with Steve. Her eyes went wide a bit, watching as Steve backed up a bit. It was embarrassing how hard she was blushing. But the girl managed to compose herself, straightening out her clothes before walking past Steve.

As she walked down the aisle, Nancy stopped in her tracks. She whipped around to face Steve. "By the way?"

Steve looked at Nancy, eyes as soft as snow. "Yeah?"

"Keep your eyes to yourself." She pointed to her bag, referring to the journal. "Top secret stuff in here. I just might have to kill you if you ever read this."

Steve's hands flew up in defense. "Don't shoot."

Nancy let out a giggle before shaking her head. "I'll see you at the hotel, Steve."

She turned back around and headed out the bus. Nancy was looking forward to going to her apartment but she also had the urge to stay at the hotel. It didn't seem fair that she would stay at her apartment while the rest were together in a hotel.

———

She was on his mind. The raven-haired girl never left. She was always there, tucked away in the back of his memories. Replaying their conversation over and over again. Steve lied awake at night thinking of the lead singer.

He felt guilty. So incredibly guilty. Especially when he laid next to her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who fell asleep every night with no worries in the world. The boyfriend who wrote down lyrics he'd think Nancy would like even though they've been fighting.

Steve asked Jonathan about her. How they got along so well. What the two did in their spare time. How they managed to keep this affair under wraps.

Jonathan had spilled about the apartment they shared. Though his name wasn't on the lease, Jonathan bragged about how the two occupied the space frequently. Usually at least once a month. Steve knew about the pictures of them, the decor they picked out together. The bed they shared.

It made Steve's blood boil. Thinking about the two of them running off to New York City whenever they got the chance. Staying in almost every night just enjoying each other's company. Writing songs and singing tunes. Stealing kisses and making breakfast, lunch and dinner together.

He was miserable on the bus ride. Steve barely spoke to anyone, laughing along with Eddie whenever the guitarist made a joke that Steve was half listening to. His mind was only set on the fact that Nancy had an apartment here and he wasn't going to be the one sharing it with her.

Their relationship flipped like a switch. The banter died down, almost too fast. Of course they teased still. But it was different for Steve. Different in the way that it was more of his way of trying to flirt without making it obvious.

But then he reflected on his conversation with Barb before he left. How she told him he'd fall in love with Nancy Wheeler. He denied it. But now he was questioning how fucked he was.

It's not that he was in love with her. Whenever she was around, a fire grew in his tummy. His heart slammed against his rib cage, butterflies erupted in his stomach. It felt like a silly crush. All based on one simple conversation that barely resolved anything. A conversation in which his failed miserably to comfort Nancy yet he still managed to make the girl laugh.

Then whenever he thought about his conversation with Barb, he remembered why he was even here in the first place. Steve was here for a job. An undercover job to expose the beloved band. And the guilt ate him alive.

He tried to stay away from Nancy. It became too hard because the girl started to come around more. Jumped into conversations, always being involved with the group. Especially with whatever group Steve was talking to at the time.

Then his job requirement was to keep them all in check. Get them ready on time, push them to do better at soundcheck. Sit back and watch as they rehearsed, Nancy being at the front of the stage. The center of his attention was her. And he didn't want it to stop.

But he knew he had to stop. Get the job done before it all blew up in his face. Keep her at arms length for as long as he could. Until he could escape and go back to Hawkins. Deliver his prized possession of an article. Sure, he'd be hated by the whole band. But he would never have to see them again afterwards.

A plan was hatched. Not a perfect one but a plan. He didn't know how he was going to execute it but one thing for sure was that he was going to get his hands on Nancy's journal. By the end of this trip, the journal would be in his possession.

The book wouldn't stay with him for long. Just long enough to where he could read it all and jot down as much as he could. Then he would return it safely to Nancy, planting it somewhere that she would've easily forgotten was there.

The way his body waltzed down the hallway seemed nonchalant. But his thoughts were racing, hitting the back of his brain and bumping into each other along the way. Suitcase in his hand, he pulled his key out of his pocket. The key jiggled, unlocking the door instantly.

He had his own room for once. Jim felt that Steve deserved his own room, especially while in New York City. It was his special treat, giving all of the band members their own rooms. It also helped that Nancy was planning on staying in her own place so Jim had extra cash to spare.

The brunette slammed the door behind him, checking three times that he locked the door. He huffed and puffed, throwing his bag onto the empty bed. Next thing he knew, Steve's jacket was on the bed occupying the space next to his bags. He plopped down at the desk, pulling out a spare notepad and pen from his bag.

His hand clenched around the pen, beginning to write out everything he remembered since he started working undercover.

Robin could potentially like girls as much as she likes guys. Maybe even more.

Billy and Eddie were in charge of the parties.

Nancy and Jonathan have been in a committed relationship.

Nancy owned a diary and let no one else see it.

Stage crew thinks of them as "drama queens."

Mike's been with Eleven for a while. They're very lowkey.

Max and Robin are the closest.

Eddie can't get through a night without having a drink.

Nancy and Mike are from Hawkins, just like Steve.

Jonathan is Jim's nephew.

Nancy co-writes for the band.

Nancy has episodes.

Steve sighed. The information was great, perfect even. But he didn't have enough. These facts would only be able to hold up about half a page of content. He was screwed. Granted, he had a couple more months of this. More time to get information out of the band.

But he was lacking in the opening up department. He didn't know how to comfort people, it was no surprise. The boy could barely do anything to help Nancy when she was having a breakdown. He regretted it every day since then. Not rubbing her back, forgetting to give her a hug. Forgetting to apologize correctly. No wonder he failed to be kind enough for people to open up.

But that's the main reason he wanted Nancy's journal. Needed it. She held secrets in between those pages. Anything and everything about the band would most likely be in that journal. And it drove him insane that he couldn't just be nicer to people and get them to open up. But he wouldn't be able to get the journal any time soon. Nancy never parted ways with it. So, he figured he just needed to get them to make the first move.

Steve leaned back in his seat. He was determined to get the band to tell him things. Pushing back in his seat, the man stood up. He carefully tucked away the notes into the pocket of his bag. After doing so, he strutted over to the door and made his grand exit.

He didn't know what he was doing. But he figured that Robin would be the easiest person to talk to first. They had shared conversations in the past, both getting deeper and slowly opening up as they went along. So the boy knocked, waiting for a response by stuffing his hands into his jeans.

Robin let out a sigh. She was trying to set up her room, unpacking and arranging. Stuffing clothes into drawers while the rest spilled out the suitcase and along the floor. Nancy had stopped by, informing Robin that she wanted to spend the night at least once. And tonight was that night.

So, now Robin had half of her space, grumbling as she knew she had to share a bed with Nancy for the night. Hearing the knock didn't help. Nancy had left a couple minutes ago, saying she was going off to find some snacks. But Robin felt that she was just going to find Jonathan. The knock must have been Nancy so Robin stopped in her tracks.

She made her way through the heaps of clothing, stumbling towards the door. The brunette pulled the door open, expecting Nancy. "Nance, just use my sp—oh! Steve! What brings you by?"

Robin was elated to see Steve. She had found a new friendship blooming between the two. He seemed like a genuine guy, always made everyone laugh. She always needed some laughter in her life.

Steve smiled awkwardly. Here goes nothing. "Hey! I was...just stopping by to see how you're settling. And just to hang out for a little. The single room can get a bit lonesome."

Robin flashed a toothy grin. "Come in! The room is an absolute mess right now so if you see clothes or anything of the sorts, just kick them to the side." She walked away from the door, turning her back to Steve.

He figured that was his queue that it was okay for him to enter. So he proceeded with caution, already stepping on a pair of jeans. He kicked them to the side, shutting the door behind him.

"So...how're you settling in? I know we're going to be here for a couple of days but I am so excited. I haven't been to New York City in the longest time. It is absolutely gorgeous. The stores, the music, the people! Oh god, it's all so perfect." Robin rambled, mentally slapping herself in the face. She turned to Steve with a smile. "Am I rambling?"

"Well, I—"

"I always ramble, it's so bad. Please, if I'm rambling just cut me off. I could just talk and talk and talk an—"

"Cutting you off." Steve smirked, glancing around the room. "New York City is beautiful. I'm glad we get to be here for a few days, it'll be a quick breather before getting back on the road."

And then his attention was caught. It shifted from Robin to a bag that laid on the left side of the bed. Nancy's bag. Her bag laid there, her journal peeking out of the top.

The universe was looking out for Steve. It was watching over him, making sure he was in the right place at the right time. He let out a sigh of relief, wanting nothing more but to pray to whoever was above.

"Steve?"

Fuck. His gaze broke, going back to the goofy brunette who stood there with bras in her hands. "Uh, sorry. Got distracted." He chuckled nervously.

"No worries. I was just letting you know that I've gotta go to the bathroom real quick. Make yourself at home!" Those were the last words before she ran into the restroom.

Steve knew he had to bite the bullet. He watched the girl walk away. And his feet moved faster than his brain. He ran towards the bed, body hitting the bed. His hands searched the bag, gripping onto a thick square of leather. Steve pulled out the journal, smiling to himself.

It seemed too good to be true. Too good that he held the secrets to Five Seconds to Hawkins in his hands.

The toilet flushed. Steve's celebration was put on pause as he pulled himself off the bed. He stuffed the journal into his pants, covering it with his shirt. Robin walked back into the room, brows furrowed from how disheveled Steve looked. "You good?"

Steve turned around, a smile flashing across his face. "Robin! Hey, I gotta go. I forgot I need to call my mom. She's probably worried sick." He nodded before rushing towards the door.

Robin stood still, confused as ever. She let out a soft laugh, staring at him. "Alrighty. Come back after!" She waved, watching as he exited the room.

Steve slammed the door behind him. He rushed over to his room, running fast as the speed of lightning. The key fumbled in his hands but he eventually got his shit together. The door unlocked, Steve pushing all his body weight against the door.

He was alone. Safe and sound in his room. Away from the band, holding all the secrets that lied within the band. He pulled the journal out of his pants, staring at it.

Guilt washed over him. Extreme guilt. He knew that if Nancy ever found out, he would be done. Exposed and hated by Nancy Wheeler forever. But his job was on the line. It was easier to read everything than pry information out of the band.

Next thing he knew, Steve was tearing the book open, starting to read.