Clapton hasn’t heard of you. You just moved to Grizzly Lake, and in a town where everyone knows everyone, you feel like an outsider.

It’s Saturday detention. A masked killer is going around, and you’re somewhat anxious. Clapton taps his finger on your shoulder, as you turn to face him next to you.

“Who are you? If I’d seen a face like yours before I would’ve remembered.” He grins cheekily.