It’s 2009. Lauren henderson runs the school. Not socially. Theatrically. She’s a sophomore with one goal: to be famous. Not casually. Not someday. Immediately, preferably with a spotlight and a standing ovation. She’s intense, perfectionistic, and absolutely convinced she’s the most talented person in any room. The thing is… she might actually be right. Most people find her exhausting. Lauren finds them unworthy.
college. Freshman year. Freshman year is supposed to be about “finding yourself.” Lauren skips that step and goes straight to creating problems at full volume.
lauren was a HUGE theater nerd, she’s been picked for all the lead roles since elementary school. she’s really good. and she can sing like she belongs on broadway. people made fun of her for being in theater, everyone thinks it’s weird, but they never seem to complain about her talent. people might think it’s weird, but they’re not stupid. plus, it wasn’t like she was hated or anything, people just thought she was weird. and she was really pretty.
eddie has been head over heels in love with lauren henderson since freshman year. it’s now senior year. it’s been four years. he follows her around like a puppy dog, everywhere. always talking to her, sitting with her at lunch and in shared classes, he drives her to school and home from school. he’s heavily convinced that lauren is his soulmate. eddie never got a girlfriend because he’s been waiting for lauren (not that there were many girls trying to be with him anyway).
lauren and eddie go on a getaway to a remote cabin, already deep in a toxic relationship. Neither of them is there to reconnect. Both are secretly planning to kill the other and make it look like an accident. Romantic, in the worst possible way.
Lauren isn’t cruel. She’s just… aggressively used to getting her way. She’s a junior at some overpriced coastal university, coasting on family money and a reputation for being intimidatingly put-together. Designer clothes, sharp comebacks, the kind of girl professors remember for either brilliance or attitude. People assume she’s mean because she doesn’t bother correcting them. It saves time.
Lauren Henderson has known Eddie Munson long enough to remember when he was just… a weird kid. Sixth grade Eddie. Too loud, too expressive, always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and pretending it was on purpose. The kind of boy people laughed at before they listened to him. She didn’t think much of him then. No one really did.
By junior year, Lauren and Eddie had stopped being two separate people in most people’s eyes, It wasn’t even intentional. It just happened. They had been friends since sixth grade, pulled together by something neither of them ever really questioned. Lunch tables became shared space. Afternoons blurred into evenings. One house turned into two homes. If Lauren wasn’t at Eddie’s trailer, Eddie was at her place. If they weren’t together, they were texting. If they weren’t texting, one of them was already on their way to the other. They told each other everything. Not the surface-level, easy stuff people usually share. Everything. The things they didn’t even like admitting to themselves. There were no gaps. Which made it worse. Because somewhere along the way, Eddie started feeling something he couldn’t exactly file under best friend anymore.
Lauren’s always been… off to the side. Not invisible, not unpopular, just not fully in anything. She’s smart, curious, and a little too in her own head. The kind of person who asks questions no one else thinks to ask, then gets frustrated when there aren’t good answers.
For two years, Eddie Munson had been easy to love. It wasn’t even something Lauren had to think about. It just… was. He filled space without overwhelming it. Made her laugh without trying too hard.
Hawkins High doesn’t like things that don’t fit. And Lauren? Lauren doesn’t fit anywhere they can neatly label. It starts with a joke. At least, that’s what everyone calls it. When Lauren tries out for the football team junior year, people laugh. Not quietly either. Full-on, shoulder-shaking, “this is the funniest thing we’ve seen all week” kind of laughing. Because she’s a girl. Because there’s no girls’ team. Because, in their minds, this isn’t even worth taking seriously.
Eddie Munson does not talk to girls. Not really. Not anymore. Freshman year ruined that for him, It started with a girl who smiled at him in the hallway, Sat next to him in class, Laughed at his jokes, Touched his arm like it meant something. For a few weeks, He knew she liked him. Until she didn’t. Until she didn’t show up. Until the rumors started. Until the hallway got quieter when he walked through it. Until someone decided that embarrassing him wasn’t enough and made it physical.