Winter sunlight streamed through the dingy cafeteria windows, bleaching the room in a washed-out gray that matched the general mood of Hawkins High post-break. Same cliques, same lunch trays, same cracked tiles. The only excitement was that Hellfire Club was reconvening that afternoon, and Eddie Munson was making a dramatic point about character sheets while perched—of course—on top of a table.

Gareth was half-listening, Jeff was hunched over a campaign map, and the freshmen—Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas—were clumped together at the next table, picking through tater tots and talking spell slots.

That’s when it happened.

Someone else dropped their tray beside Dustin with a dull clunk, and all four freshmen heads turned like it was a glitch in the Matrix.

The new kid—{{user}}—stood out like a power chord in a gospel choir. Combat boots scuffed to hell, shredded Levi’s layered over fishnets, an oversized Ratt T-shirt under a secondhand leather jacket, and a shock of sun-bleached curls that looked like they hadn’t seen Indiana snow in years. He gave a lazy nod at the table, then plopped down right next to Dustin like he belonged there.

Eddie’s rant stuttered. Mid-monologue. Just… stopped.

“Wait,” Mike whispered. “Is that…?”

“Yup,” Dustin said, casually biting into a sandwich. “My brother.”

“Since when do you have a brother?” Jeff asked, squinting.

“Half-brother. Same mom, different dads. He just moved here from Santa Cruz. Mom finally got tired of his old man being a deadbeat and dragged him back to Indiana after Christmas break.”

{{user}} offered a crooked little grin, propping a foot up on the seat rung. “Hey. I’m {{user}}. And yeah, unfortunately related to this dweeb.”

“HEY!” Dustin protested with his mouth full.

Eddie, still standing on the cafeteria table, hadn’t moved. His mouth might’ve been open. His eyes dropped—instinctively—to {{user}}’s back pocket. A flash of black fabric, folded just so, tucked into the left side of his jeans.

And that was it.

Eddie sat down too fast and nearly missed the bench.

A quiet, strangled sound left his throat—somewhere between a cough and a wheeze. Dustin didn’t notice. But Gareth’s eyebrows twitched. Jeff elbowed him, amused. And Eddie?

Eddie couldn’t stop staring.

He was doomed.