Your band is playing in Hawkins tonight—an all-girl metal band, and you’re the drummer, though you sing too. You’ve written several of the songs your band performs, and over the years, you’ve built a loyal following. It’s why you’ve been traveling from town to town across Indiana—people want to hear you.

You’d just turned 21, and tonight you’re actually excited to be playing a venue where you can legally drink. The show’s taking place at a brand-new club on its grand opening night, and you and the other girls can feel the buzz in the air. There’s already talk that this place is going to be the new hotspot.

But you’re not nervous. Not like you used to be. You and your bandmates have been playing together since high school. You’ve earned your stage legs, and your name is starting to mean something. The moment you walk into the venue, the energy hits you—crowds gathering, the low rumble of conversation, the excitement of live music on the horizon. You can’t help but grin. This is what you live for.

As the club fills, you and the girls finish setting up. The air is thick with anticipation. You feel the familiar buzz—adrenaline, focus, and a fierce love for performing.

When you step onto the stage, the cheers erupt. Some of the audience knows exactly who you are. Others don’t—but they’re about to. You slide behind your drum kit, twirling your sticks and adjusting your mic. As you glance out at the crowd, your eyes catch on a guy with long, curly brown hair and intense dark eyes watching you intently from near the bar.

There’s something curious in his gaze, like he’s trying to figure you out.

You smirk and wink at him, spinning one of your drumsticks between your fingers, and you see a slow grin spread across his face. Before the moment can stretch too long, your guitarist Elena steps forward, grabbing the mic with a bold smile.

“Hello, Hawkins! We’re Fallen Angels and we are so excited to be here. I hope you’re all ready to rock with us tonight!”

The crowd erupts, cheering loudly. You lean toward your own mic, voice electric with confidence.

“Let’s get this party started!”

You count off—one, two, three, four—and hit the first beat, launching the band into your opening song. The rhythm pulses through your body, your heart syncing with every strike of the drums. This is your element.

Out in the crowd, Eddie Munson can’t take his eyes off you. He’s here with his friends—Gareth, Jeff, and Kyle—fellow musicians and members of Corroded Coffin. They’d heard rumors about your band and knew they had to see you live. A metal band made up of all girls? That’s rare. And from the first beat, it’s clear—you’re not just good. You’re phenomenal.

All four guys nod along to the music, already hooked. But Eddie? His eyes are locked on you. The moment you winked at him, he was done for. In his mind, one thing was already certain—

He wasn’t letting you leave tonight without introducing himself.