You stared impassively into the foggy bathroom mirror, taking in your haggard appearance through the smeared condensation. The chain of events that led up to this very moment had induced this numbness inside of you.
When Billy left, you took the chance to drown out your rapid thoughts with a hot shower. Scrubbing until your skin felt tender, yet you could not rid yourself from feeling sullied. The guilt, anger, and resentment kept piling up towards yourself. You just wanted it all to be over.
You never thought you could handle another massacre, but here you were, amid the third and final one.
After you catch this killer, you'll officially be done. Whatever happens in the future — if another movie-obsessed psycho pops up — you won't get involved. You can't keep living in fear like this, always having to look over your shoulder for the next threat.
And Billy and Stu... being around them as if they weren't two criminals — it wasn't right. You just didn't have it in you to let them go, yet. They were a part of your history, and no matter what they've done... the love you had for them was indestructible.
But there was this little voice in your head telling you to disappear, escape from the shackles they had on you. You couldn't keep torturing yourself like this. It'll end up killing you.
Pushing the mental anguish to the side for just a moment, you glanced down at your phone as you dialed your mother's number. Now that you were alone, you finally had a chance to speak with her on the matter at hand.
As the phone rang, your eyes returned to your reflection while waiting for an answer. Leaning forward, you traced the bruise along your forehead, wincing as it was still sore to the touch.
With a sigh, you leaned back and readjusted the towel around your body. You began to pace around the bathroom, tensing up with every passing ring. You weren't even sure what you were going to say to her.
'Hey mom, just out of curiosity... who's my real daddy?' You laughed at the awfully thought scenario. She would surely have a heart attack if you kicked off with that.
"Hey, sweetie. What's going on?" The sound of your mother's voice brought you to a halt. You never call without an initial warning first which explained the confusion in her tone.
Raking your brain for a reply, you completely blanked. Throat dryer than the Sahara desert, you croaked out the first thing that came to mind, "Hi– uh, what're you doing?"
"I'm just cooking up dinner for your father and I," she sounded distracted, and you could hear a bunch of utensils clashing together in the background. "Why? What's wrong? Your voice sounds off."
"No, no, nothing's wrong." You denied. "Um... I just have a question— several, actually."
"What about?"
You anxiously chewed on your lip as you played with a loose thread at the bottom of your red towel. "Did you know Sid's mom when you were younger?"
There was a loud thud that echoed through the speaker, similar to a pan clashing against a hard surface, followed by a few seconds of silence before your mother answered. "Well, yes... but what has brought this about? Why are you asking me about Maureen?"
"Mom," You inhaled. "I found a picture of you together, here at Sunrise Studios. What were you two doing in Hollywood?"
"Oh, honey, that was so long ago. It was like another life—"
"Just answer my question, please." Your tone was more biting than you intended, but the suspense was eating away at you.
"Maureen and I, we were like sisters back then. Wherever she went, I went." Your mother began, grudgingly. "She wanted to become an actress, so we went to Hollywood. She starred in a few lowly horror films, but when things weren't working out the way she planned, she resulted to other tactics... things I didn't agree with."
"Like what?" You frowned.
"Like attending parties held by a producer— John Milton, I think his name was... Those parties were full of powerful men brainwashing innocent women into thinking they had to sleep their way to the top. Maureen, unfortunately, fell victim to John's manipulation." She explained, growing sorrowful at the memory. "I tried to tell her that she didn't have to resort to copulation to make it big, but she wouldn't listen. So, I left and came home to Woodsboro."
"So, you just abandoned her? Left her to get used by those disgusting men?" You questioned, glaring at the wool mat beneath your feet. "Mom, she was like nineteen! Of course, she was gonna make stupid decisions, but leaving her like that... that's not right."
"I know, and it has always been my biggest regret." Her vocal cords strained from the exertion of her grief.
You heaved, panning your glare from the mat up to the mirror. The vent was hardly doing its job at properly suctioning the steam from the bathroom as the thick air was making it hard to breathe.
"There's one more thing I need you to explain," You spoke monotone, keeping your composure. "The photo I found of you and Maureen, it was in a file. That file belonged to you... and it had a birth certificate inside..."
"Oh, God, Y/n— you know, don't you?" Her voice thinned a little, and you exhaled to sedate your dejection.
"Yeah, I know." You muttered. "I know about everything, about Dad's affair and yours."
Swallowing back your apprehension, you mustered enough courage to ask the question that you'd been dreading. "What I'm trying to ask is, who's my real father?"
She became unusually quiet as faint shuffling drifted through the speaker. You chewed on your nail, wrapping an arm around your ribcage as you prepared yourself for the worst.
"Does it really matter? The man who raised you is your real father, biological or not. He loves you regardless—"
"Mom, please, just tell me." You whispered.
"...It's...N—" Her voice cut out as you received another incoming call, and you let out a frustrated groan.
"You know what? We'll talk about this face-to-face when I get home. I gotta go." You told your mother before hanging up. Then, with heavy reluctance, you answered the other line. "Hello?"
"Y/n, it's Gale."
"Oh, Gale." You shifted your weight onto the other leg. "What's up?"
"We found some info on Maureen," She disclosed. "Dewey and I are on our way to John Milton's place, and we figured we'd fill you in there."
"Wait, John Milton?"
"Yeah, as in the producer for the Stab movies." She clarified. "He's hosting a party for Roman, so meet us there."
"But Gale–"
"Don't be late." The line went dead before you could say anything else.
All the fog had cleared from the mirror as you stared at your reflection, stupefied. It seems you are now going to John Milton's house... wherever that is.
Sighing, you dragged yourself out of the bathroom, walking back into your bedroom to find a suitable outfit. You strode over to your nightstand to set your phone down only to halt mid-step when your eyes fell to the sleeping figure on your bed.
You had completely forgotten about Stu when you'd gone to shower, so to see him snoozing under your throw blanket was startling, to say the least. Though, you wasted no time in getting changed before he woke. Pulling on a skirt and a flared long-sleeved top, you finalized your outfit with some jewelry.
After a short scuffle with the clasp of your necklace, you finally got it to hook around your neck. Dropping your sore arms with a relieved breath, you glanced over at Stu as he shifted slightly in his sleep.
Somehow, you had found yourself easing over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed as you couldn't help but admire how peaceful he looked.
Your mind began to wander as you recalled Stu's abrupt confession the night before last. He told you that he loved you, he always has.
At first, you were clueless, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how many signs you missed back in high school. You were so focused on your feelings for Billy, that you overlooked all the sweet gestures Stu had done for you, or even the affection he'd shown you that was too intimate to be considered friendly. Back then, you just assumed that it never meant anything because it was Stu. Why would Stu ever like you?
But now, you caught yourself wondering what your life would've been like if Stu had declared his love for you five years ago. Would things have ended differently had you reciprocated his love? Would he have still chosen to kill people with Billy or would there not've been a difference?
Those questions would forever be left unanswered. Yet, remorse had overtaken you at the remembrance of your cowardice. You had such fear of rejection that you never allowed yourself to go after what you wanted. Not Billy, and definitely not Stu. If only you had just opened your mouth a said something, anything about how you truly felt. Maybe things could've been different.
Without thinking, you slowly reached a hand out towards Stu, just barely caressing his cheek when he abruptly captured your wrist. You jolted at the unexpectedly swift movement, lips parting as he opened his eyes to stare up at you.
You shuddered as his slender fingers flexed against your skin. When he didn't speak, all you could hear was his voice ringing in your head, saying those three little words over and over. It's all you could focus on.
"Why?" You uttered. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Although Stu was still dazed from sleep, he knew exactly what you were referring to. Your hand plopped against the mattress as he released you, sighing while he shut his eyes once more. "I didn't wanna be your second choice." He murmured, drowsily.
"I thought about it, you know... what it'd be like being with you." You admitted. "I thought about it back then."
Stu's eyes popped open at that, and the bed shook a little as he quickly sat up.
"You kidding me?" His blue irises pierced your soul with an incredulous look. "You got on my ass about not saying anything, but you never said shit either."
"Only because you were always jumping from one chick to the next." You argued, though, you were starting to realize that a little communication could've gone a long way. Sadly, your stubbornness wasn't about to let you back down. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship by becoming just another one of your exes."
"Yeah, well, maybe it was cause none of those chicks were you! Did ya think about that?" Stu countered flippantly, and your mouth fell agape.
"Well, if you hadn't dated two of my friends, then I probably would have!"
"And if you weren't so stuck in La-La Land with Billy, then I would've told you before!"
"Stu, you are a fucking idiot–" A harsh banging resounded, interrupting your quarrel with Stu as it sounded an awful lot like two fists pounding against the wall.
"Would you guys shut up! I'm trying to watch a movie here! Damn!" Randy shouted from the room over.
You internally cursed at your apartment's thin walls before twisting your torso toward the door as you shouted back, "Eat shit, Randy!"
Randy's interruption ripped you from your heated daze, and you turned back toward Stu to find he wasn't even mad. His dimples were on full display now as his smile grew wide, wholly amused by the frivolous situation.
"Wanna kiss and make up?" He asked, pursing his lips.
"Shut up," you shoved his shoulder as you stood from the bed, and he dramatically fell back against the pillows while laughing. "I gotta go. I'm gonna be late for a party."
As you snatched your phone off the nightstand and walked over to the door, Stu rapidly sobered at the sight of you leaving, and he instantly pushed off the bed.
When you reached for the handle, you were roughly grabbed and spun back around. You grunted in surprise as you were completely shoved up against the door, Stu's body leaving no room between either of you.
"Stu, what're— oomph!" You were silenced, his mouth attacking yours with an overwhelming urgency. The earthy scent of his cologne caressed your nose as you grabbed onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Although he caught you with your guard down, you were not at all prepared for the storm that pulsed through your veins.
Like it were basic instinct, you began to kiss back, sinking into him as you molded your lips together, a hum sounding in your chest.
When his hands settled at your waist, for a single moment, the kiss granted you with a vision— an alternate reality in which the two of you had wound up together. The vision showed you exactly what you wanted to see, blinding you with sheer desire.
You arched, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as you stood on your toes, angling your head back to better suit his height. Stu groaned in response, dipping his tongue between your lips, taking the kiss even further. Tracing his hand from your waist, down to your thigh, your skin rippled with tiny goosebumps from his soft and seductive touches. He toyed with the hem of your skirt before his fingers slipped beneath the fabric.
You gasped for air, replenishing your lungs with oxygen when Stu's determined lips fell to your jaw. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults as his hand traced the back of your thigh, dragging your skirt up higher.
You fought to suppress a moan as his lips traveled to the base of your neck, his tongue teasing the sensitive area around your pulse. You desperately gripped at his bicep, flooded with an onset of emotions as you suddenly remembered you had somewhere to be.
As Stu sucked and pressed featherlight kisses to your throat, you stared glossy-eyed up at the ceiling, torn between stopping him or letting things play out. However, with how quickly this intimate session began, reality set in a whole lot faster.
This was exactly what you weren't supposed to be doing.
Briskly, you managed to push him back enough to stop him, your breathing shaky and winded as you wrestled to recollect your scattered thoughts.
"What was–" You rasped out, licking your swollen lips. "Why did you do that?"
Stu panted, brows narrowed before his brazen grin made an appearance, his bright blue eyes ablaze. "You can't tell me you thought about being with me and not expect me to kiss you." He declared, taking a single step back to give you breathing room.
"It was overdue." He added. "Big time."
You silently reprimanded yourself for falling into his seductive ambush. It felt so right, but only your brain knew how wrong it was.
Smart people listen to their heads, so that's what you had to do. Albeit, you couldn't seem to wrap your blurred mind around anything but the fact that you now had to go to the party utterly aroused.
• • •
A/N,
Lmao, before yall start making assumptions, y/n is not related to Billy or Stu. That'd be fucking weird, considering this is a romance book about them.