Y/n stood at the edge of a cracked asphalt parking lot, her paisley dress clinging to her legs, the fabric faded and thin from years of wear. She hadn't seen a car like the ones in this lot in... well, ever. Boxier. Shinier. The colors were wrong too—teals and purples where there should have been chrome and whitewalls.

She'd made it. She'd actually made it out.

But nothing looked the same.

A group of kids huddled by the entrance of a place called the "Hawkins Palace Theater." A movie poster plastered beside the doors promised something called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Whatever that was.

Four of them. She counted twice, just to be sure.

The redhead was unmistakable—fierce, with hair like a lit match and a scowl that could curdle milk. A brunette girl stood beside her, quiet, watching the street with an intensity that made Y/n's skin prickle. A boy with a bowl cut was gesturing wildly about something, while a taller boy with dark hair rolled his eyes, arms crossed.

Y/n's heart hammered. Her palms were sweating. She smoothed her dress, took a breath, and walked forward.

The redhead noticed her first. Her eyes narrowed.