I'm not the only one in my reflection.

Part twenty-nine

With a loud thud, Katherine set down her empty glass and lowered her head, feeling the alcohol burn its way down her throat and into her chest.

Oliver, who was sitting next to his niece, followed her example and also drank his next shot of alcohol. He looked back at the bar he had brought his niece to, which was his favorite place to visit when he wanted to drink and let his mind rest. The music was pleasant and unobtrusive, and the bartender was always a quiet person who preferred to work in silence rather than engage in conversations with customers.

— And soooooooo... — The man drawled, playing with a stack of fingers, turning it back and forth from nothing to do. — I don't mind drinking and letting off steam, in connection with all that's going on, but I'll still ask the question: why?

— You said "in connection with all that's going on".

— I get it, I'm not stupid, if I were stupid, I wouldn't get it. — The man chuckled, no longer daring to ask questions to the girl, who clearly just wanted the questionable relaxation that alcohol could provide.

— It's because of Sammy. More specifically, it's because of my feelings for her. More specifically- Argh, in short, she offended me, but she didn't want to, and in fact, I was the one who offended myself. — Macher's tongue was thick, and at the end she cursed and spilled out why she'd asked me to take her away from her friends and bring her to a bar. — My Sammy said she couldn't trust anyone, and I felt hurt because it implied that she couldn't even trust me, even though she's one of the few people I fully trust.

— Yeah. — Milton hummed, looking around helplessly. He'd never been good at calming people down, all his social and empathetic range was to give someone a light, awkward pat on the shoulder and say something corny like «yeah, that's fucked up» or «I'm sorry.» — I was starting to think Samantha had the stupidity to say something about the situation between your father and her father.

The former redhead blinked at him in confusion before letting out a pained groan and resting her forehead on the bar.

— Why did you remind me of what Roman did to Billy's mental, huh? I'm going to drive myself even more crazy, especially now that I'm a little drunk and can't control where my thoughts are going.

— I'm sorry. It was the first thing that came to mind that Samantha might do or say to upset you.

— Enough about that. Let's have a drink and discuss how we were attacked yesterday. — The brunette said, taking a glass with a new portion of alcohol and, banging the edge of her uncle's glass, she drank all the golden liquid in two sips. — Chad and Tara told me how you furiously tried to kick down the door when you realized that I was left alone with a Ghostface. Thank you, it means a lot to me.

— This is... Nothing like that. You're my niece, and I was obviously trying to get to you. — The man blushed and looked down, nervously fidgeting with his rings.

— It's not obvious to me. And thank you for being so, uh, concerned about me. Yes, concerned.

Oliver deflated when Leslie's daughter casually mentioned her strained, peculiar relationship with her few relatives. Her dead mother, her dead brother, her godmother and aunt in one, her dead father and her dead uncle. All she had left by blood was Sidney Prescott and him, Oliver Milton. Sidney can be safely added to the list of «my relatives and my complicated relationships with them (in the past tense, because most of them are dead and were Ghostfaces)»

— That's what I meant. — Stu's niece said with a bitter smile, holding up her phone, which had a call app open on the screen, showing how many of her calls had gone unanswered by Sidney. — And of course, I don't even need to mention my mother and brother.