Beach is still the beach, ( Steve echoes, because the landlocked midwest in him agrees, actually. the beach is beautiful, the beach makes most things at least nominally better. New Jersey, abandoned ghost towns you're suddenly teleported to without warning... probably other things, too, Steve just can't think of them right now.

he sort of knows what Jackie means, though. even if it isn't quite the same in Hawkins. crime hasn't exploded or anything, but the town is sort of at a confused standstill after the mall was destroyed. Starcourt shuttered so many of the businesses on Main Street, and yet even with it gone they didn't have the resources to return. the town was just left to limp along without the giant lumbering in the distance, notably worse for the loss and nothing to do for it. )

I'm here, ( Steve says, a little delayed, but more or less coherent. it's ridiculous how much of a relief it is to have Jackie wander around the counter, because it means that she won't be scrubbing into open wounds for a little while. he slumps a little over the counter, pressing his forehead into the tile. ) That was the worst of it, right? If it wasn't, maybe, lie to me a little. ( his delivery is a little strained, spoken directly into a countertop, but... it was a joke. okay! a joke. )