our story · Y/n story by @clairesmith188

The theater lights are blinding—hot, white, and endless. The kind of bright that swallows the audience whole, turning a thousand faces into one dark, breathing mass beyond the stage.

Finn Wolfhard

voice cracking just enough to be real, not perfect —and if the world goes dark tonight, I'd still find you in the embers—

He's not looking at the audience anymore. Not at the stage lights, not at the director's frantic cues from the wings. He's looking at Dani.

Finn Wolfhard

on one knee, the microphone trembling in his grip, his eyes never leaving hers —darling, I love you. I need you to believe that.

The audience holds its breath. The music thins to a single, aching guitar string.