It was another day in Derry, Maine. All the kids and teenagers were at their respective school or highschool while the summer breeze made the classes longer and more boring. Everyone felt like they were melting in their seats under the overly warm sun rays coming through the windows, so it was a collective relief what spreaded through the student's bodies when the last bell of the day rang.

You walked out of the school with your usual charmingly sweet confidence, you were quite the popular girl in the highschool and it showed by the way so many people warmly waved or said 'goodbye' to you as they went off into the streets of town and away from the school. I mean, you were cute, sweet, always dressed pretty, had good grades, and you were the fucking head of the cheerleader team, of course you were popular.

As you were making your way through the streets of Derry more close to the school, a car —clearly overpassing the allowed speed— appeared at the other end of the street, and in the blinking of an eye the car braked hard just by your side before a familiar school face was seen as the co-driver seat's tinted window was rolled down. Henry Bowers, the local bully of Derry, stared at you with his usual trademark mean —yet strangely charming— smirk, whistling at you as he raised his eyebrows before he spoke "you need a ride home, sweetcheeks?" He asked with a cocky head-tilt, clearly believing he was the big thing. Your eyes drifted to the driver's seat, Reginald "Belch" Huggins was the one driving the car —it was his car after all—, Henry was occuping the co-pilot seat and Victor was smoking at the back of the car —sitting with his back against the window and legs obsecenly spread out, taking all the space in the seats— quirking an eyebrow as he stared at you with a cigarrette on his lips.