kim joyce


The Hillywood Show® is about to turn your world upside down…

A boy goes missing.  On their search to find their missing friend, Mike, Dustin and Lucas discover a psychokinetic girl, named Eleven. Despite the fact that she’s a “Super Freak”, with super powers, the boys learn that, with her help, she can locate their missing friend. THE HILLYWOOD SHOW® leads you into another dimension and turns NETFLIX’s STRANGER THINGS upside down in an immersive, screen accurate production.        

By filming on some of the actual locations seen in STRANGER THINGS, The Hillywood Show® brings the fans a parody of intricate detail, like never before!  Starring, Richard Speight, Jr. as “Dustin”, Phil LaMarr as “Lucas” and Kim Rhodes as “Joyce”.    

View in 720p, 1080p or full 4K HD for the full Stranger Things experience!  Enjoy and God bless.


[this started as a bullet fic then transformed into a normal fic so some parts are a bit odd]

You were new to the area, your great aunt had died and having no children, she left you her house in her will. It was quite a large house, and a lot better than the little dingy apartment you lived in, so you couldn’t help but accept it and move in. You were a writer, you already had three books published under your name, quite popular teen fantasy romance novels at that. Who knew that teenage girls loved stereotypical vampire and human love stories with a side of fairy, vampire, and human love triangle; you did, and you easily cashed in on that stereotypical market. After your third book, you hit a standstill, unable to write and finding nothing but writer’s block every time you tried to write. Maybe that was why you said yes to move here, a change of venue, a new place and new ideas may come of it.

The neighbors were sweet, a kind little old lady on your right, a sweet elderly couple across the road; yet, there was one neighbor you had yet to meet, the one on the left of your house. All anyone knew of him, was that he was a shut in, he occasionally had an assistant come by with food and stuff, but he never went outside himself.  A recluse according to sweet little old Joyce, who brought you over some of her famous homemade chocolate chip cookies, a twenty time award winner at the local county fair, a county fair she was now banned from participating in from winning so many times. Joyce had told you about how she had been living in this town almost eighty-one years, and she had only seen the recluse once in all those years, and that was sixty-three years ago, when he first moved in. “He was maybe about nineteen, twenty, around the age you are now, when he moved in. No one really knows him, all we know is his surname, Kim.” Joyce told you.

You had yet to meet him, you even heard rumors that he might not even live in the house any longer, that it might be vacant and the assistant was the one fully taking care of it; yet, you didn’t know what to believe. Well, you met his assistant, or whoever that guy was once, and he told you it was nothing you needed to worry about, whatever that means. All you wanted to do was greet your neighbor, yet apparently the only person he sees is his assistant, or whoever.

Yet, you put that out of your mind, and finally began to write again, you starting and finishing the fourth and last book of your fantasy series, nothing could compare to the feeling as you wrote the last lines: ‘Natalia found herself unable to care, four years of trials and triumphs, just for Benjamin to leave her for Tyler at the first moment’s notice. Relaxing back against the couch, Amethyst’s arm laying on her shoulders as Amethyst kissed her cheek, before she opened the ice cream she bought just hours before, she thought to herself; ‘who needed him anyways, as long as I have Amethyst, everything will always work out perfectly’. And as she had thought, everything did work out just perfectly.’ Maybe it was the new location, yet everything seemed to be doing that for you too, working out just perfectly.

Honestly, everything was working out a little too perfectly; usually writing a book would take upwards of three or four months, this time it only took two weeks, which had left you with a lot of down time, before you needed to start working on your next one. You felt like one of those retired seniors, trying out different things until you found something you liked. Crocheting wasn’t for you, neither was quilting, or sewing. Painting wasn’t any good, you hated running, and you just sucked at photography. Writing was your only outlet, yet it was your job, you didn’t want it to be your hobby also. That’s when it hit you, while you were cleaning out some old boxes of your great aunt’s, you found it, a box of seeds. Gardening, that’s what you would do, it couldn’t be that hard right. As cliche as it may sound, you quickly found out, you had green thumb. You managed to bring back the dying rose garden, in addition to get the other flowers you planted to start growing.  You had finally found your thing, and it was gardening. That’s how you found yourself at the neighbors house, the old man’s dying and literally dead garden saddened you, so you decided to do something about it.

Unknown to you, he watched you, every day you worked in your garden, and now every day you worked in his. He still didn’t bother to introduce himself to you, finding no need to, thinking you’ll just leave before long like most young people in the neighborhood do.  It started with a note, he left a note on the window he knew you always worked under, while in his garden. It just said a simple, “Thank you.” It shocked you when you saw it, the handwriting was somewhat regal, could writing be regal, since you seriously felt it was. You simply replied with a, “You’re welcome.” and that is what started it.

Before long the daily note was something you were looking forward too, not just helping an elderly man care for the garden he had neglected, but the kind little notes thanking you for what you are doing, telling you what the plants are, and the sweet little notes about how nice it was to have a neighbor that cared for once. For some reason he felt like more of a friend, than a father or grandfather figure, which most would expect seeing how many assumed him to be quite up there in the years. The sweet little old man wasn’t a sweet little old man as she thought, he was actually quite a strapping young man to be honest.

It alarmed her when the notes stopped coming, the assistant hadn’t been by in a few weeks, and her last note she received was nine days ago, he had collected her note but hadn’t put another one out on the window like he usually did. That persuaded her to enter his house, the front door was locked of course, yet luckily the back door wasn’t. You feared he had fallen and couldn’t get back up, if so then he needed to get life alert. Entering his house, the first thing that hit her was it didn’t look like a stereotypical old person’s house does, it was modern, honestly more up-to-date than your house is.  You couldn’t hear a single sound through the whole house, maybe there wasn’t anyone here, maybe he had left. Yet, you stayed, looking around. “Mr. Kim!”, you yelled out, thinking it might help something.

You were startled, hearing a groan coming from another room, rushing towards it, thinking that you may have been right, that the old recluse neighbor had fallen and couldn’t get back up. The groaning got worse as you neared the hallway, that lead to the bedroom, and before you knew it you were standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Opening the door you saw him, not the frail old man you thought lived here, a man maybe your age, badly badly sick and horribly pale. You couldn’t help but rush forward in shock, looking at him, wanting to help but not knowing how. “What happened?” You asked him, only to hear more groaning in response. He tried to push you away, you didn’t understand why, why he would push away someone that was trying to help him.

He couldn’t stand it, the scent of her blood coursing through her veins was almost enough to make him snap; yet, he controlled himself, knowing if he did succumb to his desires, she would no longer be here.

She stood up, as he pushed her away, thinking he may need his assistant, luckily his phone was sitting on the desk across the room. To say his assistant was shocked when he heard your voice, was an understatement, the poor man started freaking out, telling you to leave and go your house and stay there, that it wasn’t safe for you here, which you found odd. You didn’t want to leave the sick man, but after his assistant assured you he was on his way, you finally left returning to your house. The whole situation worried you, badly, he was sick and yet instead of letting you help him, he pushed you away. His assistant weirdly freaked out when you called him, starting to tell you to leave and don’t look back. You stared out your window, on the second floor, peeping between the curtains trying not to be seen. You watched as the assistant rushed from his car into the house, carrying bags of red, that looked like blood bags. That’s when it all hit you, he must have a medical condition, he needs transfusions and they wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t catch anything, if it was contagious.

You resumed your schedule as usual, gardening both your gardens, just this time the notes resumed. He thanked you, and your notes grew from that. He wasn’t the homebound elderly man you had thought he was, he was a homebound young man that you honestly thought was quite attractive from the few times you had seen him. As you grew closer, the notes stopped, instead him standing at the window to talk to you as you gardened. He told you something about being allergic to sunlight, and how he’d love to work his own garden if he could, in addition to his name, Donghan.

The face to face meetings started to fade, notes returning instead, and then before long they stopped once more. It prompted you to investigate again, as you had before. At least, by now you had grown close enough he had trusted you with his assistant’s phone number, which you called before going over to see what had happened. “Donghan?” You called out, upon entering the house, thinking maybe he was sick like he was before again. Unknown to you, he was sick, just not the sick you thought.  Looking around, you found yourself unable to find him, checking all the rooms that were unlocked, you still found no one. “Donghan?” You called out one last time, thinking maybe you should just leave.

As you turned to leave, you saw a figure standing in the doorway of one of the locked rooms you couldn’t get into. Gasping, you wanted to rush forward to help him, but found yourself unable to. “Do you always make it a habit to break into your neighbor’s houses?” Donghan asked, as he lurked towards you, something in the darkness of his eyes should have scared you, but you didn’t feel scared at all. You didn’t even realize you had been backing up until your back hit the wall, and then his hand hit the wall by your head, as he leaned down to look at you. Something was enticing you to kiss him, yet, you couldn’t move.

His mouth was by your neck, his breath warm against your neck as he intertwined his other hand with your hair, pushing your head to the side giving him more access of your neck. His lips were only inches from your throat, then centimeters, and then right on your neck. “I could easily drain you right here and right now.” He murmured just before you felt something sharp grazing your neck. “No one would ever know.” He continued, grazing your neck with his fangs. You stopped breathing, scared for once since meeting him, vampires weren’t real and this couldn’t be happening, was all you could think.

Standing completely still, you felt his lips moving against your neck, as he spoke again. “You smell so good.” He muttered, inhaling the sweet scent of your blood, tempting himself more with each sniff. The primitive part of him wanting to do it already, drain you of your oh so sickly sweet smelling blood, but the refined part was telling him to back off, he was lucky he had managed to keep the two sorta under control. They stood in that position for almost five minutes, his fangs grazing her neck, but not enough to cut it, as he was torn between sinking his teeth into your neck or letting you go, before his assistant stormed in carrying bags.

The assistant couldn’t push Donghan away from you fast enough, and then shoving you towards the door, trying to get you out of the house. As soon as Donghan was away from you, you ran, leaving the house and going into yours. You suddenly regretted coming to check on him, but with that things fell into place, the blood red bags, the allergy to sunlight, and why he seemed to be your age despite the ther neighbors saying he moved in decades ago. It was shocking, the things you had written in your books, vampires hundreds of years old living off blood, it was all real.

You avoided his house for days, ignoring his garden afraid of what might happen if you did go over there. What if the unable to be in the sun thing was just a lie, what if he said it so he wouldn’t attack you or something, what if everything he said was a lie just to get another victim. Yet, one thing kept coming back to your mind, why didn’t he. He could have easily, easily, killed you but he didn’t. Something kept him from doing it, and what exactly kept him from doing it was something you wanted to find out. As he said, he could have easily killed you and drained your blood, but he didn’t.

It was a week before you were back in the garden, fixing your garden and his. It was another week before the notes returned, at first they were all different forms of apologies, then they changed to more serious things. He was sorry for scaring you, he really liked your company, and he was afraid you were afraid of him. You knew you should be afraid of him, you knew you should want to avoid him and never come back around here again; yet, you couldn’t.

He wanted to tell you to leave, leave and never ever come back, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that. He was selfish, wanting you around, knowing at any second he could snap and you’d be dead. You were the reason he started doing it anyways, depriving himself of human blood, drinking from animals and sparsely at that. Who knows why he thought that was a good idea, he honestly didn’t even know how he thought that was a good idea. The idea that if he stopped drinking human blood it would cause him to no longer need it was ridiculous, if anything he should have known it would just put you in more danger. You were so kind and forgiving, he didn’t deserve someone like you, in his over three hundred years on this earth he had never met someone that made him feel the way he does.

It was a few more weeks of just receiving notes before you had had enough, deciding if he wasn’t going to come to the window to talk almost, you would just go into his house and see him. You knew he didn’t lock his back door, everyone thought a scary recluse lived there, so why would he need to lock it. Walking in, not much looked different from the last time you had been in his house, it was just as clean as always, which wasn’t that surprising. “Donghan?” You called out, hoping this wouldn’t be a repeat of last time.

He was alarmed, when he heard someone calling out his name, it was you. He had wanted to see you so many times, but feared you’d run, he feared you’d leave. You knew enough to put together the pieces, you knew what he was, and if you didn’t, then he’d honestly be surprised. He watched from the doorway of his study, watching as you looked around, luckily he hadn’t been depriving himself or this would have ended horribly. “Why are you here?” He asked, as he kept his eyes on you. He wanted nothing more than to pounce, to put his lips on our neck or to put his lips on your lips, he wasn’t sure, he wanted both, but he also didn’t want to scare you off again.

Seeing him, you couldn’t help but storm your way over to him, looking up at him. “Why are you avoiding me, I’m not afraid of you, you could at least acknowledge me or something.” You said, speaking quickly as you walked towards him, not noticing how he backed up as you did. His back hit the wall and there you stood in front of him, looking up at him, wanting an answer. “You’re a vampire, so what, I don’t care.” You said, just wanting him to answer you.

“I could so easily kill you, I could snap and you’d be dead in a minute, and that doesn’t scare you?” Donghan started, as his hand rose, touching your cheek gently. “I’m not always so in control, I could hurt you badly, I’d never forgive myself if I did.” He said, letting his hand drop, before he used it to easily flip the both of you. Hovering over you as he pushed your back against the wall, he looked into your eyes, before baring his fangs. “I could easily, easily, kill you. Does that not scare you?”

Shaking your head, as you brought your hand up, placing it against his cheek. “I don’t care, I know you wouldn’t do it deliberately.” You told him, watching as he still stared at you with his fangs bared, trying to scare you off, but it wasn’t working one bit. “You don’t scare me, I’ve gotten to know you these months, and if you thought baring your fangs and growling at me in that deep sexy voice would scare me off, you are horribly wrong.” Was what you said to him, before your hand moved and your thumb just hovered over one of his bared fang, not making contact but close enough you could if you wanted.

He was startled by how you seemed to disregard his worries, like they were nothing, which that’s what they were to you, nothing major. As his fangs sunk back into his gums, he looked at you, still confused at how nonchalant you were about this, like it wasn’t a life or death situation. “I don’t think you know what you are getting into, you don’t understand this all, it’s not as black and white as you think.” He said, sighing as you shook your head at him.

“I understand perfectly fine what I am getting myself into, I’m not some child being lured in by something I don’t know. I know what is luring me in, and I don’t want to stop it.” You told him, before moving your arm that was resting at your side, to behind his neck. You tried to pull him down, and then tried to raise yourself enough to kiss him, however, you were far too short and his refusal to move didn’t help any. It was enough to irritate you, and his laughter when he noticed you were struggling didn’t lessen your irritation.

A pout began to form on your lips, just moments before you felt his face even closer to yours than before.. “I’m dangerous.” Donghan whispered, his lips hovering yours as he spoke. “And I don’t care.” You whispered back to him, before raising up to claim his lips, your hands tightening around his neck as his founds your waist, picking you up so he didn’t have to lean down as much.

He had thought that something bad would come of the two of you, yet nothing had. He had started feeding properly instead of starving himself, and you had new inspiration. Writing had never been so easy for you, especially when you had someone in your ear telling you when you misspelled words or didn’t write a proper sentence. His lips were against your neck as he looked over your shoulder, reading what you had written. “Don’t forget the male lead is a sexy vampire with a six pack, and hips that move so fluidly they should be illegal.” Donghan said, giving you his input on what you were writing. Smirking you typed a boring vampire with a one pack that can’t dance, as Donghan pouted against your neck. “That’s not what I said.” He complained, before starting to kiss your neck repeatedly, his fangs grazing against the spot on you neck where he drank from earlier that day, before his lips were back at work attempting to give you a hickey. As you leaned back, letting him wrap his arms around you, all you could think of was how this would make a perfect book, yet, no one would believe it was based on a real life event.