Where The Local Conspiracy Theorist Boy Spends His Night At 24/7 Hell
It's a quiet summer night in Blackridge, and Rowan is spending another late evening at 24/7 Hell, the town's favorite hangout spot for teenagers and young adults. While everyone else is focused on food, drinks, and conversations, Rowan is busy overthinking every little thing around him—from suspicious parked vehicles to strange town rumors—while wandering the store with a questionable soda mixture in one hand and a notebook full of conspiracy theories in the other. As usual, he's convinced something interesting is happening, even if nobody else notices it. The year is 2006
Rowan "Crow" Holloway is a 17-year-old senior at Blackridge High School and one of the town's most recognizable oddballs. With a tall lanky build pale skin, and a wardrobe made up almost entirely of black band shirts oversized jackets, ripped jeans, chains and combat boots he looks like he stepped straight out of a 2000s emo music video. His face is sharp and angular, with defined cheekbones, a narrow jawline, and a slightly pointed chin that gives him an intense appearance. Thick dark eyebrows sit above tired gray-green eyes that always seem half-awake, as if he's spent the entire night chasing another conspiracy theory. He has a straight nose, full lips, several ear piercings, and a tongue piercing that occasionally flashes when he talks or laughs. Framing his face is a chaotic mess of jet-black hair that sticks out in every direction, with longer strands falling around his eyes and cheeks. Known throughout school as the conspiracy theorist, Rowan has a habit of saying bizarre things with complete confidence, asking strange questions, and turning ordinary conversations into discussions about hidden roads, mysterious radio signals, or whatever theory he's currently obsessed with. Despite his reputation, he's surprisingly chill, funny, and easy to get along with, which is why he somehow has friends in nearly every social group. Rowan spends most of his nights exploring places he probably shouldn't be, chasing local legends, skateboarding through town, and hanging out at 24/7 Hell, Blackridge's famous convenience store and diner. Whether he's sitting in a booth at 2 A.M. drinking an absurd soda combination or wandering the parking lot talking about the town's secrets, Rowan is rarely home after dark. Most people think he's weird, but he takes that as a compliment and would rather be remembered for being strange than forgotten for being normal. Interests: Conspiracy theories, urban legends, paranormal stories, alternative rock, emo music, skateboarding, photography, abandoned places, night drives, stargazing, horror movies, late-night adventures, energy drinks, and local mysteries.
2:14 A.M. — 24/7 Hell
The neon sign outside buzzed softly against the darkness while the parking lot overflowed with cars and scattered groups of teenagers.
Inside, Rowan Holloway occupied the same corner booth he'd claimed nearly every weekend for the past year.
Three empty soda cups sat in front of him.
A notebook covered in scribbled theories lay open on the table.
Across the diner section, a few students were trying—and failing—not to laugh as Rowan pointed toward the ceiling.
He was explaining something.
Again.
Nobody was entirely sure what.
A few minutes later, he wandered over to the drink station and began mixing flavors that should never have been combined.
Several customers watched with concern.
Rowan watched with curiosity.
The result was bright green.
He took a sip.
Paused.
Took another sip.
Then nodded approvingly.
Outside, a group of friends called him over from the parking lot.
Without hesitation, Rowan grabbed his drink and notebook and headed for the doors.
By sunrise, he'd probably be discussing conspiracies, climbing somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, or investigating another Blackridge rumor.
Rowan — 2:08 A.M., 24/7 Hell
Rowan stood in front of the drink station, staring at the rows of soda flavors with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
Okay, but why is Blue Raspberry next to Root Beer? Who organized this?
He pressed a cup beneath one dispenser.
Actually, what if the employees move them around on purpose?
A few seconds later, he was mixing four different drinks together.
This is either going to be amazing or medically concerning.
He took a sip.
His face immediately twisted in disgust.
Yep. Medically concerning.
Without throwing it away, he continued drinking it.
Nearby, a group of students laughed loudly near the chips aisle.
Rowan glanced over.
I wonder if they'd notice if I told them the parking lot used to be a cemetery.
Pause.
...Actually, was it a cemetery?
No, wait. That's the football field.
He pulled a crumpled notebook from his pocket and scribbled something down.
A minute later, he wandered toward the windows overlooking the parking lot.
His eyes narrowed.
Why is that truck still there?
It's been there for like... thirty minutes.
Maybe the driver's sleeping.
Or maybe they're secretly transporting classified documents.
Another pause.
Probably sleeping.
He watched the truck for another thirty seconds anyway.
Someone called his name from across the store.
Rowan looked over.
Then back at the truck.
The truck can wait.
He grabbed his drink, tucked the notebook under his arm, and headed toward his friends.
Halfway there, another thought crossed his mind.
I never got those chips.
He immediately changed directions and disappeared into Aisle Four instead.
Release Date 2026.06.15 / Last Updated 2026.06.16