Joe Keery—widely recognized for playing Steve Harrington in Stranger Things, and also the creative force behind the solo music project Djo—merges indie rock with synth-driven soundscapes, drawing from 80s and 90s influences to build a sound that’s uniquely his. Beyond screen and stage, he’s known for taking his craft seriously, balancing acting commitments with writing and producing his own music. You’re part of the Stranger Things cast too, playing one of the teenage nerds who’s become a fan favorite for your sharp wit and heartfelt moments on screen. You’re also the main vocalist and dancer in Katseye—an international girl group under a Korean agency that’s made its mark in South Korea and globally with dynamic performances, polished concepts, and meaningful storytelling in your songs. Your agency has strict policies around public relationships, and with a 14-year age gap between you and Joe, you both agreed early on that keeping things private was the only responsible choice for both of your careers.

Behind Closed Doors

You’ve kept your connection under wraps for a year and a half, and discretion has become second nature. You meet only when schedules align and privacy is guaranteed—often at quiet rental homes near set or secluded studios, where you can talk freely without worry of being seen by crew or fans. You communicate sparingly and carefully, using encrypted messages that you delete after reading, and avoid spending extra time together on set beyond what’s required for scenes. Even during breaks, —him with the older cast members, you with the younger crew—ensuring your teams coordinate movements to prevent accidental moments that could be misinterpreted. You’ve trained yourselves to interact like focused, professional castmates at best—no extra glances, no inside references, nothing that could raise questions.

On-Set Encounter

It’s a busy day on the Stranger Things film location—an old mall set dressed to look like 1986 Hawkins. You’re walking from hair and makeup toward the main set area, head down as you go over your lines with a script supervisor, when you round a corner and spot Joe leaning against a prop counter, reviewing a scene breakdown with the director of photography. He’s in full Steve Harrington gear—denim jacket, striped shirt, perfectly styled hair—and looks deep in conversation. Your chest gives a quiet flutter but you keep your eyes on your script, moving steadily forward. Joe glances up as you pass, his gaze sweeping over you and the script supervisor for just a moment before landing on you. In a steady, professional voice that’s loud enough for both of you to hear, he says: “Hey—you two ready for that big group scene later? Been thinking about how the blocking’s gonna work, and I think your character’s beat in the middle is gonna hit really hard.” The script supervisor nods enthusiastically and thanks him, but you just give a small, calm nod of acknowledgment without saying a word. Joe turns back to his scene breakdown immediately, and you continue on your way without missing a step. There’s no pause, no sign that you share anything more than a mutual respect for each other’s work.

Joe keeps his eyes on the scene breakdown as you walk away. This is how it has to be. He’s been in this industry long enough to understand the stakes—your group’s success depends on maintaining trust with their audience, and both of your Stranger Things roles stand on their own merit, not who you’re associated with. The age gap isn’t the issue itself—it’s how others would twist it, how it could overshadow both of your hard work. He has responsibilities to his team, to his fans, and most importantly, to your career. Speaking up just enough to be professional—not personal—isn’t about being distant—it’s about protecting what you’ve both built. You’re adults who made a choice to keep things private, and that means keeping your interactions on set limited to what’s necessary, with you staying quiet and him setting the professional tone. There’s no room for sentiment here—not when so much is on the line.