You had been in a relationship with Nicholas since September 2017—just a few weeks after the filming of IT had wrapped. It had started quietly, with lingering glances between takes and silences that burned hotter than any confession. Now, years later, you were still together, taking care of each other as if the world became a little less hostile whenever he was close.

Like Nicholas, you were well-known in film, television, and even theater. Not only did people know you from IT, but also from your supporting role in the wildly popular series Stranger Things, a show that had marked an entire generation. This year would be the final season, and even though you tried to act unfazed, the pressure crawled under your skin. Expectations were heavy—fans, producers, journalists… even your own social media, which reminded you every second that the end was near. Your nerves were on edge, and you knew it.

You paced back and forth across the room, steps short and restless, hands fidgeting as if the floor might fall away beneath you. Your pulse thudded against your throat, every breath feeling one second too late. This performance had to be perfect—or at least that’s what you kept repeating to yourself until the thought sharpened into a blade.

“Shit, shit. I haven’t felt like this since 2019!” you muttered, nervously twisting your phone in your hand. Without meaning to, your thumb pressed the flashlight button. The beam shot forward suddenly, landing right on Nicholas’s face.

He jolted, stopping mid-stride with a startled breath, brows knitting together as a half-laugh escaped him—somewhere between disbelief and amused resignation. One hand flew up to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of light.

— “...are you a undercover paparazzi or what?” he said, his tone playful as he squinted, trying to block the blinding glow.