𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 ✶ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡

a quiet town becomes a wound between worlds, and children stumble into the dark to find that monsters are not always made of teeth and shadow. In which grief hums through telephone wires, and the static between realities grows louder each year. In which love, friendship, and fear braid together beneath the hum of fluorescent lights, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary, until Hawkins itself begins to dream.

or

a girl with sunlight in her hair drives too fast toward nowhere, and a boy with a crooked smile keeps showing up in all the wrong places. In which California is not a state but a promise, and love is something fragile that blooms in small, impossible moments-in the passenger seat of a red convertible, in the hush of a floral bedroom, in the spaces between what they say and what they mean. In which Hawkins keeps its secrets, and they keep each other, even when the world turns upside down.