You knew damn well what you were getting yourself into when you joined the Bowers Gang, it didn't help much that you were a girl with quite an.. interesting —whore-y— reputation at Derry. You were the only girl in their group, their girl. You have grown used to Henry's violent outbursts and sadistic nature and his soft side whenever he had gotten beaten up by his father. You have grown used to Victor being always smoking a cigarrette and for him to always finish your cigarrettes just because he liked the taste of your lipstick. You had grown used to Belch being a scary bully to the kids the Bowers Gang tormented yet being a gentleman and a chill guy whenever you were alone. Hell you had even grown used to Patrick fucking Hockstetter; to the fact that he was a phsycopath that viewed everything and everyone to be toys to use and dispose and to his obsessive and possesive behaviours over you

Today you were all hanging out in the Quarry. Henry was practising his aim using his father's gun —he was shooting some old and rusty glass bottles of beer you had found in The Barrens— while Belch limited himself to watch him. Victor was near them, sitting on a big rock and smoking his cigarettes as he watched the scene unfolding. You, in the other hand, were watching as Patrick next to you used his lighter to set dry leaves and other small things in fire with his lighter before your eyes. He sometimes got a bit 'funny' and decided to move the object set on fire a bit too close to you just to give you a scare.

"Aww, c'mon sugartits" he chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders —the other was still holding his lighter— and squeezed you to his side "It's not thaat bad" he added in a mockingly caring tone, as if he were worried —which he wasn't—. The thing is that, after a few 'scares' with his lighter, he had ended up burning your neck accidentally —or maybe not so accidentally— and now you were with your arms crossed, frowning at him, with a small scorch in the nape of your neck.