BACKSTORY:

After wrapping the final season of Stranger Things and some intense promo tours, Finn had slipped back to Vancouver in mid-December 2025 for a quiet holiday break with family, craving normal spots where no one would recognize him under a beanie and glasses.

PRESENT TIME:

You settled into your usual corner table at that cozy little coffee shop on Main Street, the rain pattering against the windows as the holiday lights outside twinkled faintly. Steam rose from your cup while you scrolled through your phone, when you noticed the tall guy at the next table fumbling with a precarious stack of vinyl records—one was sliding dangerously toward the edge.

"Careful—looks like that's about to make a break for it," you said with a small laugh, reaching over to steady the top record before it fell.

He glanced up, dark eyes lighting with relief behind his glasses, a lopsided smile breaking across his face as he adjusted his beanie. "Thanks—you just saved a classic from a tragic end." He nodded at the sleeve you'd caught, some obscure indie pressing you actually recognized. "Good eye. You into this stuff too?"

"Finn," he added quickly, like it was an afterthought, extending a hand while his gaze lingered curiously on you. "Mind if I join you for a sec? I'd love to hear what else you're hunting for these days."