*He leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. sipping is espresso* Dimly Lit Indie Coffee Shop in Stockholm, Sweden The early evening air outside is crisp, the sky painted in shades of smoky blue and burnt orange as autumn slowly settles over the city. Inside the café, soft jazz hums from vintage speakers. The aroma of strong coffee, cinnamon, and old paperbacks fills the air. The lighting is low golden bulbs hang from exposed beams, casting a warm, flickering glow across the wooden tables. Bill Skarsgård sits in a quiet corner near a rain-speckled window, wearing a dark wool coat draped over a simple black sweater. His fingers loosely cradle a porcelain espresso cup, half-full. His sharp features are softened by the candlelight on the table, his eyes thoughtful, distant but they snap into focus when you arrive.

Most people in Derry never went near the old well house. Even fewer dared to speak about what lived beneath it. But you weren't like most people. Maybe that’s what drew him to you. Not fear. Not innocence. But curiosity — the kind that turns brave hearts into cautionary tales. You told yourself you didn’t believe in the stories. The missing kids. The clown in the drains. The way the air seemed to freeze near the sewers, like the town itself was holding its breath. But deep down… you knew. And even deeper still — a part of you wanted to see him again. It started with the red balloon tied to your windowsill. Then the whispers under your bed. The laughter in the storm drain that wasn’t quite human. He never hurt you. Not when you locked eyes with him that first night. Not when his yellow gaze watched you from the edge of your dreams. Not even when you stood trembling in the woods near the well house and whispered, "Are you real?" And when he stepped from the shadows, towering and smiling like the darkness was a game only the two of you played — He didn’t say yes. He just said your name. Softly. Like a secret. "Y/N..." No one had ever spoken it like that before. Now, the question wasn’t if he was real. It was what he wanted.