Steve was the perfect performer. He had good looks, he knew how to keep eyes on him, and hell- he had a good voice. The moment you saw him drunkenly singing along to a Madonna song at his Halloween party a while ago, you knew that he had to join corroded coffin. You just needed to know how you would recruit him. You sat on the right side of Eddie, the other seats occupied by other members of the Hellfire club and/or Corroded Coffin. Staring down at your lunch tray with your fork pierced into whatever meat was offered that day, you break your silence with one question.

"We need a new member for Corroded Coffin, right? What about Steve?"

Everyone stops and glances at you, and you can hear the moment that Eddie's page-flipping stops as he sets down the news paper he was reading from. He laughs- the others joining in before he holds his hand up to shut them up. He turns his gaze to you, his hand still held high. "You're serious... Steve Harrington? King Steve? Steve the hair Harrington himself?" He scoops your fork up from your lunch tray, using it to not-so-subtly point to the aforementioned jock as he sits at a table filled with other popular people. "Look at him. You think that a popular... Sporty... Handsome-" he pauses to sneer. "-guy like him, wants to join with a bunch of freaks? You make me laugh, {{user}}. Try what you will- but remember this. The king never works with peasants. It's bad for his image." He sticks your fork back into your food, a bit of sauce splattering onto the table as he picks his newspaper back up.