Ink smudged the girl's fingertips, blue and black colouring looking odd against her stark skin, but she did not care about the markings that painted up her left hand, always the burden when doodling in pen. Actually, Daisy Lonsdale liked the way the ink told a story to onlookers, clearly pinning her as some sort of artist without blurting it out for the world to hear. She liked how the town people of Hawkins watched her, always saying how her great talent would shine one day. However, she did not like how the town folk still gossiped about her family and the runaway teenager that had fled into the night last year, never to come back.

"Oi, Daisy, wanna' pass me some popcorn?"

Daisy was looking up from her sketchbook, her uniform rustling with the sudden movement. Kennedy Khan stared across at her, holding out his hand. She snapped from her daydream, pen falling from her fingers. Hurrying, she pumped some oozing butter into the popcorn bucket and handed it over to the customer with a flash of teeth. "Here you go, enjoy the movie."

Hawk Theatre, or simply just nicknamed the Hawk was dead on a night like tonight, most town people staying indoors after the long weekend. Daisy Lonsdale would have enjoyed spending the night with Dottie Fields, cooped up in her bedroom and exchanging gossip while listening to some song on the record player, but sadly, she was stuck at work. "You know, if the manager wanders in and finds you drawing instead of cleaning—"

"He'll fire me?" Daisy suggested, trying to hide a smile from Kennedy, or just Ken to friends. The two teenagers had been working together for about four months now, but their friendship didn't span the Hawk because they ran in different social circles and in a town like Hawkins, social stigma still floated about. Ken was a budding musician, quite handy with a drum-kit, but sadly, his parents wanted more from him in academia and he felt obliged to do so. Daisy, on the other hand didn't really care for her mother's opinion, not these days anyway. "Nice joke."

Kennedy just shook his head with her comment, adjusting his glasses and turning away to serve the next customers, who were a group of teenagers, Steve Harrington among them. Daisy was already avoiding the boy's heavy gaze, pretending to be very interested in reorganising the shelf full of candy packets. "What's The Dead Zone about?" Carol Perkins hummed out, her body pressed very closely to Tommy Hagan, her long-term boyfriend. It was rumoured they had been having sex since the seventh grade.

"Kinda' like The Poltergeist," Kennedy was saying with a blank face.

Tommy H. snorted. "You wouldn't like it, babe. It's scary."

Carol smacked the boy with the back of her hand lightly. "Shut up, I can do horror!"

While the couple bickered some more, Daisy was moving down the counter, pretending to wipe down the bench in order to get away from the group of older students, kids her sister had once been friends with. Since the ordeal with her sister last year, Daisy made it her mission to stay clear from these kids, the very kids that went against her word when she voiced her opinion that Marigold would never just run away from Hawkins in the middle of the night without a word. Despite her best efforts though, one boy did not get the message, or care, that she wanted nothing more than to be left alone tonight.

"I'll take a Twix."

A glare was springing to Daisy's eyes with Steve Harrington's voice, the charm dripping from each word like it did every other time the boy spoke. Daisy knew he was some big heartthrob in town and even girls in her own grade fawned over him. She gave him credit, he was decent to glance upon but something stirred in her bones whenever he stepped out of his social bubble to speak with her, like heaven forbid, he was doing her a favour just by smiling across at her. Without speaking she snagged the chocolate bar from the shelf, almost pegging it in his direction. "Don't choke on it."

Steve was already shifting a laugh. "Come on, Daisy, why you gotta' be like this?"

Daisy was already crossing her arms over her chest with his comment. Last year, Marigold had fallen within the popular crowd at school, only natural with her golden curls and pretty smile. Marigold was the very classic image of everything pretty and pink and Steve Harrington liked that about her. Marigold had fit right in with the group, charms and wits giving her a helping hand to blend in effortlessly. Daisy had grown used to hearing all about Steve, who had never been more than a friend to Marigold after their shared kiss by the community pool. Daisy had even liked Steve enough, but that was last year and things had changed when Steve and his little friends had told the police that Marigold had spoken about running away, ditching her family and becoming a myth in town. They had lied, saying she had detailed a plan to skip town with them. When in fact, Daisy knew that was a bloody lie.

"When you tell Chief Hopper that Marigold didn't just flee town, then I'll stop." Daisy snipped across at him, her eyes snagging Kennedy's blaring gaze, knowing she was skating on thin ice with being rude to customers. Quickly, she was shoving another Twix into Steve's hands over the counter, leaning close and forcing a fake smile. "Enjoy the movie."

Steve clenched his jaw, but shuffled away from the candy bar, his friends in tow. Daisy rested back against the drinks fridge, watching him with a glare. Kennedy marched over, fixing his black bow tie and sighing loudly. "If the manager saw that—"

"The manager can suck it," Daisy butted in. "So can Steve fucking Harrington."

Kennedy shook his head. "You're a real charmer, Daisy Lonsdale."

***

Late October air blew against Daisy's cheeks, her skin breaking out in goosebumps as she waited on the lonely street corner, not far from the Hawk. The nighttime was ticking on, her mother late in picking her up from work. Daisy was already regretting denying Kennedy's offer to drive her home, not wanting to owe him something. Boys always played it like that, they did one kind thing and expected one in return, and she wasn't about to owe Kennedy, despite how nice he seemed.

She glanced down the empty street, pulling her leather jacket close. Tacky Halloween decorations were hung from the street lamps in town, the one above her head a laughing ghost, almost comical but with the eerie night humming around her, she was quickly reaching up and ripping down the paper ghost in annoyance. On the dirty foot path, the ghost grinned up at her and she groaned quietly, turning away. Halloween didn't spook her, she wasn't easily scared, but with irritation flooding her veins, she suddenly hated ghosts in that moment.

The sound of a distant car door being slammed shut jolted Daisy, her head snapping around to spy a lone figure striding down Main Street. Before the boy even passed under a street lamp, Daisy knew it was Jonathan Byers, a loner that worked down at the Radioshack. He was the only other sixteen year old with a casual job in town, along with Daisy and Kennedy. It was an unspoken rule that if you had a job at sixteen, it was because you were less privileged, poor even, than the rest of the kids in Hawkins. Daisy hated that idea, but it was just another back-town form of logic which the town folk strived off.

Jonathan Byers noticed Daisy Lonsdale as he fished out his car keys from his pocket, her golden hair was quite hard to miss as she waited under a street lamp, very lonely. He had to admit, he had never really paid much attention to the Lonsdale girls, but once Marigold went missing, Daisy changed in little ways, even he noticed that. Her appearance changed, now donning dark clothing and darker eye makeup, rather than the popular style of fashion in town all girls seemed to wear. She started mouthing off more frequently to teachers in class and always had a strong opinion. He wasn't sure if she had changed with the disappearance of her older sister, or if she was simply rebelling against the town's strange idea about being picture perfect all the time.

Oddly, he was wondering if he should wave, or maybe offer her a ride. He had never really spoken with her, not any real conversations. He could remember a time when the youngest Lonsdale girl had handed him a drawing of himself in middle school. Something she did with every kid in their class for a month straight. He still had that drawing though, nested away in his stacks of records and knick-knacks.

Daisy watched Jonathan for a long moment. He was a strange kid, she knew that much. Her mother's book club gossiped about everybody in town, and the Byers always came up. They were a poorer family, their rundown house located right next door to the Fields' house, a place Daisy spent a lot of time with Dottie. Although the town regarded the Byers as poor, strange and somewhat dirty, she never understood why. What made them any different from any other family in town? What made them different from the Lonsdale clan? Who, indeed were strange enough with no male figure in the household and had money problems, something her mother refused to speak about. Although the odd facts matched up with the Byers, the Lonsdale family were not considered dirty, poor or strange, maybe that had something to do with Molly Lonsdale though.

When a familiar station wagon pulled up to the curb, the horn honking loudly, Daisy was yanking her attention away from Jonathan Byers, who looked like he was about to wave at her,  but at the last second decided against it. Her mother was waving her hand through the window, beckoning Daisy to get inside. With a groan, Daisy was yanking open the car door and dropping into the seat. "You're late, mum," she huffed out. "You know, I wouldn't have to stand on the sidewalk in the dark if you let me drive."

"Driving is too dangerous," Molly Lonsdale snipped out and Daisy was already rolling her eyes, resting her Doc Martens on the dashboard. Her dear mother had always been strict, never letting the girls stay out late as children, but after Marigold, her mother didn't let Daisy do anything, and the only reason she had a job was because they needed extra money. With recent events, Molly Lonsdale had become extremely over protective, in fact, she was too cautious now. But that only seemed like some sort of coping mechanism. "You can blame your sister, Daisy. If she didn't run away from home—"

Daisy glared across at her mother. "She didn't flee town. How many times do I have to tell you and this whole crappy town that Marigold isn't a runaway? She's missing."

Molly Lonsdale just shook her head, believing her eldest daughter had in fact just ran away from home one night. The whole entire town believed that, never wanting to actually admit a teenager had been lost, maybe snatched away in the darkness. Hawkins did not like mystery, they preferred the dull life, which was why Marigold was never officially labeled a missing person. "It's been over a year, Daisy. Why can't you just drop it? Your sister abandoned the family, she's nothing but a disgrace."

"Marigold wouldn't just leave without a goodbye." Daisy said, irritated that every time this conversation came up, they ended up on bad terms. Nobody believed her, everyone in Hawkins truly did think Marigold just ran off. Everyone but her Aunt Beatrice, but that didn't count. "If she was safe, wouldn't she have called? Wouldn't she have let us know she wasn't dead somewhere? She'd at least tell me. Come on, she wasn't like those other kids!"

The car came to a sudden stop at a red light, Daisy's mother reaching forward and pushing her boots off the dashboard with a firm frown. "We're not discussing this again. Do you hear me, Daisy?" Her words were final, leaving Daisy feeling empty and frankly annoyed again. The blonde teenager thumped her head back against the headrest with a loud dramatic sigh, hating how even her own mother didn't believe her.

"Whatever, mum."

- author's ramblings -

I'm like super pumped and inspired, so expect a few updates in the coming days. Daisy isn't sunshine and rainbows, she's a kid with a lot of anger, which is only natural when something like that happens to a kid. She's not a very likeable character, she's written like that on purpose, and I will defend her to the death, so do not leave nasty comments because it's called character development.The casting may feel stereotypical, a white family and only one black character, also done on purpose because of issues and themes that do come up in the story, so please be mindful everything I do is on purpose, absolutely everything. Also, we never found out where Jonathan worked and in the first pilot script he worked at the Hawk, but that feels far too cliche since Daisy works there, so he works at the Radioshack in my story. Anyway, I'm going to try and limit the author's notes and quit bugging y'all with my after thoughts (a bad habit I have adopted lately because I feel like I always have to explain things) but yeaaah, please leave your thoughts?

-tinkertaydust x