The basement of the old Hawkins middle school was thick with the usual Hellfire energy—dust in the air, dice clacking, Eddie’s voice already halfway to dramatic before the night had even started.

You sat at the table between Eddie and Billy, your knee brushing Billy’s under the folding table. He was slouched back in his chair, one arm draped casually behind you, trying to look bored but clearly listening to every word. Across from you, Eddie was mid–sarcastic monologue, hands flying as he narrated the campaign like it was the final battle for the fate of the world.

Then the door creaked.

Every head turned.

Jason.

He didn’t belong here. Everyone knew it. Clean-cut, varsity jacket, jaw set like he’d come to conquer enemy territory instead of interrupt a D&D game.

“Wow,” Eddie drawled, not even looking up from his notes. “Did we summon you, or do you just haunt basements now?”

A few of the kids snorted. Billy stiffened beside you, jaw tightening.

Jason took a step closer to the table, eyes locking on Eddie. “Did you expect me to sit back and take your insolent, brazen display—”

Before he could finish, you leaned forward, palms flat on the table.

“Ha! You’ve got it twisted.”

The room went dead silent.

You stood slowly, meeting Jason’s stare without flinching. Billy’s hand brushed your wrist, a silent careful, but you were already in it.

“I’m not the one who needs a new attitude,” you continued coolly. “Maybe you missed it, but I’m that #bitch, and I will do nothing less than what I please. I’m the backbone of Hellfire.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open.

You stepped around the table, circling Jason like you were sizing up an opponent in a ring.

“Mad that I’m actin’ respectless?” you said. “Well it’s ’cause no one could respect this. Sorry, group attendin’—” you gestured vaguely at the table, “—but since when are jocks too scared to fight?”

Jason’s face flushed red.

“You’re long past trendin’,” you added sweetly. “Sorry, babe, but I ain’t swiping right. You lost your relevance.”

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then Dustin let out a low, stunned, “Holy shit.”

Billy stood up beside you, slow and deliberate. His arm slid around your waist, protective and proud, eyes locked on Jason with pure warning.

“You heard her,” Billy said quietly. “Game night’s full. Door’s right there.”

Jason hesitated, glaring at all of you, then turned sharply and stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

Silence.

Then Eddie shot to his feet, pointing at you like you’d just rolled a natural twenty.

“{{USER}},” he shouted, “I don’t know what plane of existence that came from, but remind me never to make you mad.”

Billy smirked down at you. “That,” he murmured, “was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And just like that, Hellfire rolled on.