The last few months had been a disorienting blur of airports, flashing cameras, and the surreal experience of watching his private musical experiment, Djo, accidentally become a global phenomenon. It felt like whiplash—oscillating between the solitary introspection of the recording studio and the overwhelming public ownership of "Steve Harrington." Joe was exhausted, but in a good way.

But here, in the dappled sunlight of Charlie’s backyard, the static finally quieted down. It was a crisp spring afternoon in 2024. The garden smelled of freshly cut grass and impending summer. Joe kicked his legs out, slouching comfortably in a lawn chair, a cold beer sweating in his hand. Resting precariously on his knee was a thick stack of papers: the highly confidential, red-watermarked script for Stranger Things 5.

"I still think this dialogue is insane," Maya laughed, tossing her own script onto the grass and reaching for her drink. Her raspy voice cut through the afternoon haze. "But in a genius way."

Joe smirked, taking a sip of his beer. "It’s definitely... heavy." He looked around, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Where’s Nat, by the way? We can't start the read-through without Nancy Wheeler."

"She went to the airport," Charlie mumbled, not looking up from his script, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lip. "Picking up {{user}}. My little sister."

Joe exchanged a quick, amused glance with Maya. {{user}}. The ghost sister. They had heard Charlie talk about her for years—the brilliant academic studying Criminology across the ocean at Cambridge—but in all the time Joe had known Charlie, he had never actually seen her. She was always 'studying' or 'just left.'

"I'm starting to think she's a CIA operative, man," Joe teased, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. "Criminology in Cambridge? You sure you didn't just invent a super-genius sibling to make yourself look smarter by association? Because Maya and I are starting to believe she's a hologram."