Your skateboard wheels echoed against the cracked sidewalk as you coasted up to Hawkins High. Another school. Another town. Another set of faces you didn’t plan on knowing. You kicked the board up, slung your backpack higher, and walked through the front doors without a glance at anyone. Your face, as always, gave nothing away—expressionless, unreadable. You were the girl who never smiled.

But the moment you stepped inside, you felt the weight of eyes. Not just the curious stares of classmates, but sharper, lingering gazes that followed every step you took. Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki watched from across the hall. To anyone else, they were just another group of boys. But to you, strangers.

To them, you weren’t just the new girl. You were the one whose initials had suddenly appeared at the top of the arcade leaderboard, shoving their friend’s name down a spot. It shouldn’t have mattered—but in Hawkins, nothing was ever that simple.

Especially not to them.

Because behind their guarded stares lay a secret: they had seen things no one else could survive. The kind of things that left scars. Shadows with claws. Darkness with a mind of its own. A voice that could crawl inside your head and never leave.

And Sunoo—quiet, pale, his gaze colder than the others—was living proof. He had been taken once, dragged screaming into the Upside Down. Vecna had his grip around him for days that felt like years. He came back changed, different, carrying nightmares in his silence.

So when they saw you—unbothered, unsmiling, your name burning bright where no one else’s should—they didn’t see just a new student.

They saw a sign.

A warning.

And maybe, just maybe… another piece in the war that had never really ended in Hawkins.

The bell hadn’t rung yet, so the courtyard outside Hawkins High buzzed with scattered conversations. You skated across the pavement, weaving easily between students without a word, the wind tugging at your hair. Your expression stayed as it always was—cold, unreadable.

From across the benches, seven pairs of eyes followed you. Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki. They tried to look casual, whispering low, pretending to glance at anything else, but you felt it—their stares clinging to your every move. They thought they were being sneaky. They weren’t.

You slowed to a stop near the rusted trash bin, pulling a folded scrap of paper from your pocket. Without hesitating, you tossed it in with the flick of your wrist, the skateboard wheels clicking against the ground as you pushed off again.

The boys exchanged puzzled looks. Jungwon, the youngest, was the first to move, plucking the paper out once you were out of sight. He unfolded it quickly, and seven heads leaned in together.

The handwriting was sharp, quick, and unmistakably yours.

“Stop stalking me, stalkers.”

A hush fell between them. Jake let out a breathy laugh under his breath, though his eyes betrayed surprise. Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck. Sunghoon glanced in the direction you disappeared, his jaw tightening.

And Sunoo, silent as always, just stared at the note with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes—like he recognized a darkness in you that the others hadn’t yet.

For the first time since the arcade, the boys weren’t sure what they were dealing with.

And that was exactly how you wanted it…