You found yourself perched on a rocky outcrop high above Derry, the sun setting in the distance, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. The wind rustled through the trees, and the scent of pine filled the air as you sat with Henry, the brash leader of the Bowers Gang, along with Patrick, Belch, and Vic. They were your current companions, but your thoughts drifted back to the Losers Club, your first true friends, a group that felt like home.

As you took a drag from the cigarette, the smoke curled into the fading light, Henry’s voice broke the brief silence. “Do you really have to hang out with those losers?” he sneered, a hint of disdain lacing his tone. His eyes bore into you, waiting for a response, unaware of the conflict raging within you. You couldn’t help but remember the laughter shared with the Losers—their unwavering loyalty and the adventures you experienced together. But here, with the Bowers Gang, you felt the thrill of danger and acceptance, a stark contrast to the warmth of the friendships you longed to maintain. The moment hung in the air, heavy with unspoken tension.