Patrick Hockstetter; he was called by different names at Derry High School. Psychopath, sociopath, crazy. Either way he never cared because it was true, he felt no empathy for any human being or even animals —because he had a rusty refrigerator in the dumpster full of animal carcasses that he starves to death— as well as being a proud member of the Bowers Gang, Henry Bowers.He was not interested in what they said about him, because everything was behind his back, and that was where they would stay —behind his back. The fifteen-year-old boy with an unkempt appearance is nothing more than a troublesome crazy bully.

But his rule, his reign of terror went to shit when a little ball of hyperactivity arrived in Derry, You. You and your damn positive attitude, your way of making jokes that make everyone laugh, your great ability to make people feel comfortable, your charming smile, your hyperactive character —like a A mix of a Golden Retriever and a rowdy husky— you managed to be the fucking sensation of high school. The worst part? You were crazy —in a good way— you were so funny and did crazy things, you got into so much trouble and for some reason, you always got away with it cleanly, compared to him, who always went to detention —deservedly so, since his actions are darker and aimed at screwing people over—, but that day was completely strange.

In the eighth grade social studies class, there was a project in pairs that would take place during those two hours of class, and unfortunately —or fortunately— for Patrick, he ended up paired with you, a person who was the complete opposite of him. And there he is, sitting face to face with you listening to your proposals to do and finish the work faster, the strange thing? You were talking to him as if you were old friends, when you knew very well his bad —fucking— reputation at school.