Burning Love resonated through the radio. Dancing to the beat of the song, a wavy, messy blonde-haired girl grabbed an apple from the fridge before running into the dining room to meet a little girl around twelve years old, almost falling asleep at her toast.

"Isn't it too early to listen to the radio?" The brunette tried to keep her eyes open at the sound of something falling and gazed into her sister's eyes.

"Isn't it too early to toss the magnets off the fridge?" The blonde glanced back at the magnets on the floor and rolled her eyes. She brushed her hand in the air, and the magnets flew back to the fridge. "I hate that," she complained, scratching the tattoo on her wrist.

"I know," the younger girl nodded, frowning. "Is everything okay?"

The blonde shrugged. "Yeah, you know, same nightmares, but nothing new."

"Those have been increasing ever since we moved here," the brunette mentioned, treating it as an essential piece of the dizzying puzzle her sister seemed to be trying to solve.

"Yep," the blonde replied as she took a seat and bit into the apple carelessly.

"Aren't you worried?" the girl pressed.

She stopped herself from taking another bite and gazed at her sister. "Of course I am," she admitted. "This town is cursed, Lils. People disappear, weird things happen. It's not a secret; people just ignore it."

"But..." Lily started, trying to understand her sister's calm demeanor.

"But I trust Mom and Dad. They wouldn't throw us to the lions unless they had a backup plan." Lily raised one eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

"And..."

"And as much as I hate all of this, I need to finally understand what happened to me before Mom and Dad adopted me. If it means staying here, in the middle of nowhere, at the door to our almost certain death, bring it on. As long as it doesn't affect you guys, of course." Stretching her back, the blonde took another bite of the apple.

"Em," the brunette cautioned.

"Also, people here aren't that bad. I love Brooke and Veronica." Emma pointed out just before a robust man with a big build entered the room with a cup of nearly finished coffee. His glasses and the little curl in his black hair almost made him resemble Clark Kent. Lilith laughed at him mumbling the lyrics while dancing into the room.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

James Torres was a really imponent man. His usual dark lether jacket matched with the known sunglasses made everyone who looked at him think he was some sort of russian mole between the most hidden corners in america. The silence he embraced out of the door from home got the children around the squeare frightened and intrigued about his misterious aura. And his knowledge about science surprised a lot of students when he first came into the physic's laboratory looking like he owns a biker gang.

He was different from all hawkins had known before, he was what they called a freak hidden between leather and black. But to Emma and Lilith, he was simply their dad, the most amusing person on earth. His love for cinema and emerging technologies was what fueled their family movie nights and lively discussions. And his deep appreciation for good music, was the reason why Lilith got used to turn the readio on every morning in hope she could get awake by the sounds of classic rock.

"It's Elvis." The man said as an obvious explanaition. Both girls frowned playfully. "He's the King." He pointed with frustration. "Thought Mike Oldfield was the King." Emma argued. "Yeah, heard you comparating him with God once." her sister supported her point.

"Mike Oldfield is clearly God between Gods, but Elvis is a classic, he's a legend, you know?" The man explained like if they were aliens from other planets. "I mean, music is not my thing, this is just habits." The brunette scratched her nape. "Think we need to teach this girls some culture, don't you think, honey?"

Gea Torres. A brittish brunette woman who moved to Atlanta when she was seven year old with her family. Gea wasn't the tipical woman from the increasingly famous magazines. Her broad shoulders and short hips could remind to a national recognized swimmer if she had stayed in line. Her deep brown eyes showed the roughed life she'd been carrying through and the fell in her hands were the prove of her hard work. Although she might seem a classic woman with her perfect suit to work, who liked to cook and spend time at home, Gea knew how to get her hands dirty. And that's what it scared both Emma and Lilith. The stubborness the woman kept brought them to that town, looking for the lost pieces of a puzzle they both were ignorant she was still trying to fill. Pieces surpringly tied to the desaperance of Barbara Holland.

The woman gaved a soft kissed to her husband to look at her daughters. "Ready? "

"Almost." Emma pointed before running out to the garden where she left her boots the other day she came soaked from a meet at the skate with her friends. A claret BMW drived in front of her house, getting to the Wheelers's two streets further.

***

Hawkins High School wasn't much different from others Emma Torres had attended. People knew each other for years but often didn't really know each other at all. The focus was on popular figures like Steve "The King" Harrington and Tommy H for their basketball victories, along with some cheerleaders followed by a few who frequented their parties. Meanwhile, ordinary people went about their lives, unless you caught their attention.

Sometimes Emma wondered how anyone could live in such a bubble, isolated from reality. She would look at them and wonder what would happen if they opened their eyes and saw through the little show they performed every day. She couldn't understand how people could be so oblivious, looking at Steve Harrington's fluffy hair and sunglasses while charming his girlfriend. Nancy, an ash-blonde-haired girl with eyes as blue as the ocean and skin as white as snow. Nancy was both pretty and intelligent, dating someone Emma considered a total crap.

The first time Emma noticed their existence she thought she was a girl with lots of traumas looking for her next error in life, seeking to fix the "cool guy". And after months at the town she could assure half of her sentence. Nancy wasn't seeking to change Steve, she was daiting Steve for one reason she couldn't understand. She saw something in him maybe the save key. Save because it was obvious he loved her. He looked at her like if she were the light on a dark road full of the shadows from his past while Nancy couldn't just take her eyes off of Jonathan Byers.

"Ugh, really?" Robin closed her locker, watching Steve and Nancy flirt. "What a sucker."

"You think?" Emma raised her eyebrows playfully. Robin despised Steve with every fiber of her being, a trait that had become apparent within weeks of knowing her. Emma found it amusing, although she didn't quite understand why. "I mean, right in front of my locker, really? I don't want to run into the perfect lovers living in their perfect bubble of love," Robin complained. "Some people here suck at that, and we'd prefer not to be refreshed with these scenes every time the period changes."

"Are you done?" Emma crossed her arms mischievously.

"No, because I don't even get why people like him. He's a complete asshole," Robin continued to vent her frustrations about the fluffy-haired boy.

"Who's a complete asshole?" Brooke, a brunette metalhead, arrived, grabbing an orange flyer with one hand while her other was linked with Veronica's, a black-haired girl whose skin could rival Snow White's for the theater club play.

"Harrington," Emma clarified for the girls before Robin resumed her monologue.

"He just seems pretty cocky," Veronica chimed in.

"Yeah, right?!" Robin exclaimed, gripping Veronica's shoulders excitedly, glad to have an ally in her constructive criticism.

"He's a total jerk who thinks he's the main character in some movie called life, and have you seen his hair? Gross." Frustration burst from Robin's eyes, causing them all to laugh. "Yours is clearly better," Brooke complimented, matching Robin's energy. "Not even close, but Veronica's might be better than his."

"What...?" the named one stared at her friends clearly confused and quite creeped.

"Lots of boring times playing with your hair at History." Brooke casually shrugged explaining herself.

Emma glanced at the flyer once more with curiosity. "What's that, Brooke?" The mentioned looked at her friend like if some bulb had finally lighted in her memory. "Oh, right." Veronica scoffed and mumble the words here we go before the brunette capt all her attention.

"Party, this Friday night, who's coming? " The brunette spilled her words showing the orange paper a girl was giving when Emma got out of the class earlier.

"I'm out. Vicky and I will be at Jules' watching scary movies." Robin raised her hands in the air, using the perfect excuse to avoid Brooke's persistent attempts to get her to attend a party she might consider torture rather than fun.

"Em?" Brooke's eyes shined pleading for the blonde to acept the invitation. "Come on, Veronica would rather look after her sister trick or treating than going into Carol's house for a party."

"We're talking about the woman that pulled me from stairs so Tommy H wouldn't asked me about the movie we watched at that trip for halloween when we were twelve years old." The dark haired argumented.

"But think it this way, you're going to go into a party eat free food and drink whatever you want from the house of this bitch who gives a fuck of our existance as much as we do." Emma shifted the perspective of the film.

"And we could dress like the Pink Ladies from Grease." Brooke added.

"Keep talking." Veronica made herself the interesting staring at the ceiling.

"If you feel uncomfortable, we'll be back at my home and have a pijama party?" Brooke glared confused at Emma's words. She simply shrugged not knowing what more she should have said. But that seemed enough for the girl to acept.

"Seems pretty fair." Veronica looked at her nails carelessly.

"No! Don't let them brainwash you, Ronnie!" the three girls laughed at Robin's dramatic interruption before the bell rang anouncing the benning of next period.

"Fuck, I'm heading late to biology." Emma grabbed her books acelerated. "See you at break." And with a hand gesture the blonde speeded-up to the bilogy lab, where, right at the door, the known Steve Harrington just parted ways off with his girlfriend.

"Oh, is the so called King Harrington blessing the advanced biology class with his presence?" The irony in the blonde's words could be percived by the guy turning around to face the emisor.

"Good day for you too, Torres." Harrington resent himself to answer in the same sarcastic tone taking his sunglasses off, tired. "Can't say the same for you, Harrington." She wrinkled her nose at the dark circles in his eyes.

Steve and Emma had interacted a grand total of four times in their lives. Once when he picked up Nancy from her house after working on a project, the time she was late for P.E. and had to run laps while Steve discussed basketball tactics with the coach, another when Tommy H was insulting a member of the Hellfire Club, and he laughed along, gaining points with them, and her favorite, the time Nancy forced him to apologize to some girls he used to toy with, indirectly manipulated by her and Brooke. Steve and Emma couldn't say they hated each other. They could tolerate each other's presence in the same room, but the few times it had happened, one of them didn't end up in the best condition. So, it was best if it didn't happen.

"You seem pretty late yourself, Gangster," Steve commented, trying to change the subject by glancing around the lab. "What's your excuse today? Your sister, the bathroom door...?" Emma showed him her middle finger.

"That's none of your business."

***

"So you're going to a party this Halloween while I'm stuck at home with Mom and Dad watching movies?" Lilith asked as she pushed open the door to the Arcade. The song "Whip It" by Devo blared through the speakers as they stepped inside. The place was buzzing with kids and teenagers, all lost in the hypnotic glow of the machines, caught up in a frenzy of high scores and competition.

"Yep," Emma confirmed with a nod, unfazed.

"Magnificent," Lilith muttered sarcastically as she made her way to the Dig Dug machine. A red-haired girl had just vacated the game and was now wandering toward Pac-Man.

Emma shook her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Come on, don't be mad. I'll probably be home early and bring you some candy from the party," she offered, trying to lift her sister's spirits.

Lilith, already focused on the game, inserted a few coins. "Easy for you to say," she sighed as the game loaded. She didn't bother checking the high scores because, as usual, Dustin's name was at the top. Her own alias was somewhere further down, right behind her sister's. She wasn't the best, but competing with Emma made it worth it. "You've already made friends. I just pretend to care about what the kids in my class say, but they are sooo boring," she emphasized, drawing a chuckle from Emma. "No, seriously, it's like their brains are fried. The only interesting person was that boy who's always wearing a cap—he's friends with the Byers kid."

"Oh, the one who disappeared?" Emma asked, her mind conjuring the image of pale, withdrawn Will Byers, followed by the haunted expression of his brother, Jonathan. Both boys looked like they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. The only time Jonathan seemed remotely alive was when Nancy Wheeler was around. Nancy, Emma's lab partner and potential friend, seemed to be a small beacon of light in his gloomy existence. The thought left a bittersweet taste. "I have a few classes with his brother."

"Yeah? He seems kinda creepy," Lilith grinned as she navigated the game's more challenging level. Emma chuckled.

"Can't really deny that," Emma agreed.

"Shhh!" Lilith commanded, eyes glued to the screen as the game's intensity ramped up. A few tense minutes later, she erupted in triumphant victory. "In your face!"

"No way!" Emma gasped, staring at the score—641,133 points. "Wait, wasn't the podium around 600,000?"

Lilith blinked, having not realized how high her score had climbed. Quickly entering her initials, she watched with anticipation as the leaderboard flashed on the screen. Her alias landed in fourth place, right behind someone named Lucas. Both girls frowned in confusion. The last time they checked, Lucas had been in second place, right behind Dustin. Now, the top spot had been claimed by someone called MadMax.

"MadMax?" Lilith tested the name aloud, as though speaking it might spark some recognition. But nothing clicked, aside from the movie her dad had introduced her to just a couple of months ago. "Who's MadMax?"

"The ruler of this arcade," a voice interrupted, causing both sisters to wrinkle their noses in disgust as they turned to see Keith, one of the arcade employees, munching on cheese balls. His presence was never subtle, and the way he ate was particularly revolting. "She's been taking first place on most of the machines lately."

"She?" Emma's curiosity piqued as she pushed for more details.

"And before you ask," Lilith cracked her knuckles menacingly, "no, we're not giving you any creepy, gross favors in exchange for info."

Keith smirked like a creep. "Don't worry, you're definitely not our type."

"So?" Emma pushed.

"She's right over there." He gestured with his head toward the red-haired girl now playing Pac-Man. The sisters turned, and the girl, sensing their gaze, looked up, her blue eyes locking with Lilith's brown ones.

Lilith recognized her instantly from school. The girl was new in town, quiet, and kept mostly to herself. She seemed normal—a rare trait in a place like Hawkins. "Hey, I know you," Lilith said, squinting as she approached. "You're... Max, right?"

Max furrowed her brow, unsure whether Lilith was asking about the leaderboard or just confirming her name. "Um, yeah," she replied with a shrug. "Who's asking?"

"Oh, right," Lilith laughed, realizing she hadn't introduced herself. "I'm Lilith. We're in the same class." Max's confusion deepened. She didn't recognize Lilith at all—likely because she spent most of her time daydreaming, trying to escape the torture of being uprooted from San Diego.

"Cool, I guess," Max replied awkwardly, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Hey, aren't you third place on Pac-Man?"

"Yep," Lilith said proudly, flexing her arm in a mock display of strength. Max smirked at the playful show.

"Wait, third place?" Emma rushed to the Pac-Man machine, scanning the scores in disbelief. "Since when did you beat me at this?"

"I had a lot of free time last week while you were studying," Lilith replied, tossing a teasing glance at her sister. Max stifled a laugh, finding the sibling banter amusing.

"You moron," Emma muttered under her breath, still processing the defeat. Just then, the blare of a car horn caught their attention.

"Emma, we're already late, come on!" their mother's voice echoed from the doorway.

"That's my cue," Emma sighed, then turned to her sister. "Hey, Lils, you want to stay here a bit longer? We'll pick you up after my appointment." She glanced briefly at Max, gauging her sister's comfort.

Lilith gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'll hang out for a while."

"Cool, I'll see you in an hour," Emma called over her shoulder as she exited the arcade, heading for the black Audi parked outside. She slid into the back seat, where her dad was waiting, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

"Your sister staying?" he asked.

"Yeah," Emma replied, a small, proud smile forming. "I think she's finally making a friend."

"Really?" their mother, Gea, smiled brightly. "It's about time."

"I know," Emma said, her eyes twinkling with relief. Ever since their move to Hawkins, everything had been tough, especially for Lilith. The transition had been hard on all of them, even though their parents tried to pretend otherwise.

"So..." Mr. Torres asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at his older daughter with a supportive smile. "Ready?"

Emma smiled back, her lips pressed together. "Ready," she said, settling in for the ride. Right before the car start their way, she could sight two boys staring at the arcade's showpace with admiring eyes. Her frown wrinkled. What a couple of freaks, she thought, though their faces seemed pretty familiar.

***

A sickly white light bathed the small room, casting an eerie glow over the little girl with shaved blonde hair and striking blue eyes. The constant whine of the electroencephalogram (EEG) and electrocardiogram (ECG) machines connected to her only deepened her dizziness. She had spent two hours trying to manipulate the electrical patterns of her brain and the rhythm of her heartbeat. Finally, after what seemed like endless struggle, she succeeded. But the toll on her body, combined with exhaustion, was immense. A tall, gaunt man, nearly elderly, dressed in a crisp suit, crouched in front of her, his eyes gazing into hers with a disturbingly paternal smile.

"Seven," he called softly. The word shattered her focus, pulling her violently from the memory.

"Emma." Dr. Owens' voice echoed in her mind, pulling her back to the present. She blinked, taking in the room around her. The walls weren't the sterile, oppressive white of her memory. The scientists in this lab didn't avoid her gaze. The air was calm, not thick with tension, and she wasn't being forced to push herself to the brink. Most importantly, she wasn't alone. Her mother sat beside her, gripping her hand in quiet support.

Still, the nerves gnawed at her. It didn't matter how much time had passed—being inside a lab brought back memories she'd rather forget.

"Your parents mentioned your nightmares have been increasing ever since your training started," Dr. Owens said gently, as a lab assistant detached the ECG and EEG wires from her body. Emma had just finished a brief session, working on controlling the electrical fields around her after practicing generating lightning. She had been coming to Hawkins Laboratory every two days for training, ever since the incident in California. That day, she had lost control of her electrokinesis, causing a massive accident. Her family had been hesitant to involve the lab, but unlike her childhood experiences, these sessions were shorter, only about half an hour, and the scientists seemed more concerned with her well-being—at least, that's what they tried to show.

"Yeah, sort of," Emma admitted, her voice quiet.

"Nightmares and flashbacks to that night—or even your past experiences in labs—are normal," Dr. Owens explained, his tone patient and understanding. "Being back in a similar environment is bound to trigger memories. The trauma you've been through is tough to overcome, especially without the right kind of help. Have you been to therapy before?"

Emma's mother, Gea, squeezed her hand. "When we were in the process of adopting her, she had some sessions. She doesn't remember much, but the therapist helped her build trust with us." Her voice held a tenderness as she recalled those early, difficult days.

"And since then?" Dr. Owens asked, his curiosity piqued as he gave Emma his full attention.

Emma cleared her throat, feeling the knot of anxiety rising. "When I was ten," she began. "That's when memories started to come back. Little things—words, actions—would trigger them. That's when the nightmares started." She hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Dr. Owens waited patiently.

"It was hard for her to get proper treatment when she couldn't be completely honest about her problems," her father interjected, sensing Emma's discomfort. "About her powers."

Dr. Owens nodded in understanding. "We have mental health support here. I'd recommend you come in for regular sessions. Talking through it could help make the nightmares fade." He smiled kindly, offering reassurance.

Emma managed a small, hoarse smile in return. "That sounds good," she agreed, though her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Excellent," Dr. Owens said, satisfied. He glanced at his notes on Emma's progress. "Your control over your brainwaves and heart rate has improved significantly over the past month. However," he continued, his tone lighter, "you still need to work on the voluntary creation of electricity and lightning. It should be more deliberate, less... random." He cracked a small joke, trying to ease the tension.

Emma smiled, though the weight of her past still lingered at the edges of her mind. "I'll work on it."