“Ugh, I’m so bored!!” Steve groaned to absolutely nobody, slumping dramatically against the counter. Tuesday mornings at Family Video were practically cursed—no customers, no excitement, and worst of all, no Robin to keep him sane. Just him, the hum of fluorescent lights, and rows of untouched VHS tapes mocking him with their existence.

He’d already done everything twice. Cleaned the counter. Alphabetized the shelves. Re-alphabetized them because maybe he’d messed up the first time. Snacked. Regretted the snacking. Checked the clock at least forty times, only to find that a grand total of an hour and a half had crawled by. Five more hours. Five maddeningly boring hours.

Still, he reminded himself, it beats going head-to-head with a Mind Flayer.

Steve shuddered, the memory of Starcourt Mall flashing sharp and unwanted through his mind—burning lights, screams, the sticky smell of blood and smoke. It felt strange how something that traumatic could already seem so distant, like a bad movie he’d watched too many times. And yet, it had only been a few months ago.

His life had shifted on its axis since the year Will Byers vanished. High school glory days were long gone, monsters were real, and somehow he’d gone from king of Hawkins to… this. A polo shirt with a logo stitched over his heart and a job that paid just enough to keep him afloat.

He sighed, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Could be worse,” he muttered. “Way worse.”

Steve let out a breath and leaned back, about to resign himself to another round of reorganizing when the little bell above the door jingled, signaling a customer. He snapped upright instantly.

“Oh—!” His boredom evaporated the second she stepped inside. For a moment, Steve just stared, brain short-circuiting like an unplugged VCR. Then he caught himself, straightening up and smoothing a hand through his hair before flashing that easy, practiced grin.

He didn’t crowd her while she browsed; that never worked. So he stayed put, patient, letting her take her time and waiting for her to come back once she’d made her choice.

“Well, hey there,” he said, his voice suddenly a lot more awake. “Please tell me you’re here to rent, like… ten movies. Or at least one really long one.”

Steve leaned his elbows against the counter, his eyes flicking briefly to the tape in her hands before drifting back to her face, clearly more interested in her than whatever she’d picked.

“First time here?” he asked, tone light and playful. “Because if it is, lucky you, you’ve got me working today. Steve Harrington. Resident movie expert, excellent customer service, and—” he tilted his head, grin turning just a little more flirtatious “—very open to sharing recommendations… or conversations.”

He slid a membership card across the counter toward her.

“So,” Steve added, “what’re we in the mood for? Romance, horror… or something you might need a cute employee’s help picking out?”