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lavroval

May 27

not-neverland06

𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨…

💿 When Did You Get Hot💿

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴: 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘺!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 &𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

My friends walk in your direction / Said "Don't you know [...]?"

Huh / When did you get hot?

Overview: You've been the awkward friend forever. Always lingering in the background of Stu and Billy's lives, never quite fitting in with their other friends. But when their current girlfriends are tired of worrying about your relationship with their boyfriends, they offer you a makeover. You just hadn't thought it would have made Billy and Stu so angry.

Apparently, doing your makeup isn't very final girl behavior. Whatever that means...

a/n: absolutely playing into the “taking down her hair makes her hot” trope rn. Also, the reader has curly hair. For the sake of the plot. (and because I’m tired of not living my curly-haired truth) Also, X2 Sid and Tatum are a bit OOC. I was in love with Tatum when I was younger, but for this, I need her to be a bit of a bitch. It’s for the plot people, I don’t make the rules

wc: 7.2K

more at: Belle’s 3k Extravaganza

You can already see Stu grinning as he watches you run up to the fountain. Billy's there waiting beside him, flipping through a book you doubt he has any interest in. Your chest heaves as you come to a stop, hands propped on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

Stu snorts, “What’d you run here?” he taunts, with that stupid voice he always uses.

“Shut up,” you grumble, dropping your bag to the ground and pulling out a folder. “Here,” you toss it at him. It slaps against his chest, and he lets out a little grunt, just barely catching it before it slips to the water.

He leafs through the papers inside, though you know he never actually bothers to proofread. Bored waiting for him to be done, you hold out your palm. He glances at it with a dumb look, "What?”

“Seriously,” you tilt your head and let out a scoff. “Do you think I’m doing this because I love you?”

Stu rolls his eyes and fishes his wallet from his pocket. You let out a triumphant hum as he slaps the cash in your palm. Trying to step back, you don't get very far before his wrist is snapping out, fingers wrapping around your arm as he tugs you back toward him. You stumble between his spread legs, shooting him an unamused look.

He only grins at your ire. “Come on,” he urges. “You love me, you can say it.”

You roll your eyes, but dip down to meet his stare. “All right. I love you, Stu.” His grin falls as you add, “Thank you for being my benevolent little rich boy.” Billy snorts and Stu shoots him a look. It’s enough of a distraction for you to slip from his hold and pick up your bag.

Good timing, too, considering Tatum’s walking up with Sid and Randy. Tatum’s certainly chiller compared to his other girlfriends. You get along with her more than you ever did with Casey. But you can’t imagine anyone would be happy to see their boyfriend all handsy with his best friend. Even if handsy seems to be Stu’s default state.

“Ooh, another illicit deal, I see,” Tatum makes herself cozy, dropping right into Stu’s lap. You force out a stiff laugh and make yourself look away.

You’re just friends with Stu, same as Billy. Have been since you were kids. To them, you’ll always just be the strange neighbor kid who never seemed to get out of that socially awkward phase.

But how you look in their eyes doesn’t change the fact that puberty hit you first. It doesn’t change that you haven’t been able to look at either of them as just friends since you discovered the difference between boys and girls.

However, based on their caliber of girlfriends, they couldn’t make it any clearer that there isn’t a chance in hell of anything ever happening.

“That’s seriously pathetic, Stu,” Sid teases. She can't hide the undercurrent of disapproval in her voice. “How long are you going to let her get you through school?”

Stu’s sharp eyes cut to yours and you feel heat bloom under your skin. “Well? How long are you gonna carry me?”

Scoffing, you move to take your place beside Randy. He immediately offers you some of his food, which you take just to have something to do with your hands.

“However long you keep paying, rich boy.”

Tatum and the others laugh a little, but you feel like you got the question wrong from the look Stu’s sending you. You’re not sure what you could have possibly said that he would have approved of. But you don’t think you’ll ever fully understand him or Billy.

You doubt anyone ever will.

Tatum turns her attention away from you, instead speaking across her boyfriend to discuss some gossip with Sid. It’s typical that you’re left out of the loop.

Something about you seems to scream that you’re above petty girlhood experiences. Given the chance, you'd have more dirt on the people at this school than they would ever know. People trip up around the quiet kids, always seeming to forget they're there until it's too late.

But, as much as Tatum and Sid are nice to you, you’re still an outlier. Someone they think belongs more to the boys. While the boys seem to think you’d do better with the girls. There’s no safe middle ground for you to stand on. You’re sure that if you didn’t show up for lunch tomorrow, the only thing that would change is who Stu pays for his homework.

Running a hand over your hair, you let out a tired sigh as you leaf through your book. “You know,” Tatum’s voice startles you from your stupor. You glance up to find her eyes narrowed on your hair. “That puffed-up look has been done to death.” She pops a grape in her mouth with a sharp grin. “It’s not the eighties anymore, sweetie.”

Your eyes widen, hands shooting to your hair. Stu snickers, slapping Tatum’s hip, “That’s catty, even for you, babe.”

“Seriously,” Sid admonishes, shooting you a sorry smile. Billy’s eyes dart between you and her, but he doesn’t say a thing in your defense. Swallowing roughly, your gaze drops to your shoes. Self-consciousness drowns you so quick, you just want to run to the bathroom and hide out the rest of the day.

“What?” Tatum snickers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant she could use some touch-ups.”

Your throat burns as your eyes flick toward the grassy courtyard. You’d prefer anything to facing them right now. Crying in front of the Stu and Billy is worse than chumming the waters before going diving.

“Christ, you’re the worst sometimes,” but Sid can’t hide the smile in her voice. She calls your name and you suck in a sharp breath before looking at her. “She’s sleeping over at mine tonight. Why don’t you come?”

“So you can give me some touch-ups?” you snap. Randy snickers at the perceived cat-fight, and you punch him in the arm.

“Innocent bystander,” he grimaces, shooting you a glare. You give him a sharp smile and shrug.

“Yeah,” Tatum agrees. “I think it’d do you some good to hang out with someone other than these bozos.” She doesn’t fail to include her boyfriend in the insult. Stu’s face drops behind her as he looks to Billy.

“Me?” he mouths, and Billy just glares at him.

“They’re totally holding you back, babe,” she pops another grape in her mouth and shrugs. “Your choice.”

“I can’t believe you let her talk to you like that,” Stu snickers, shoveling popcorn in his mouth as he sprawls across the loveseat.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, clutching the throw pillow closer to your chest. “What the hell was I supposed to say?”

Billy glances over his shoulder at you, his legs kicked over the arm of the seat across from Stu. “Maybe don’t roll over and let her treat you like a doormat.”

You roll your eyes and pick up a piece of popcorn. Tossing it, it bounces off of Stu’s nose while you lean back on the couch. “She’s your girlfriend, you could have said something.” Stu watches the popcorn fall to his mom’s new, ridiculously expensive rug and snorts.

“Yeah right, like I’m gonna get in the middle of a cat-fight.”

“Oh yeah,” Billy rolls his eyes as he flips through the channels. “I’m sure that’s your nightmare.”

Stu laughs and tosses a handful of candy at Billy. Clearly incensed by your idea of trashing his mother’s pristine living room. “Shut up, man.”

You drown out their bickering, more than used to it, as food begins to fly across the room. Reaching up, you fiddle with a strand of combed-out hair. “Do you think she was right?”

They pause, eyes darting back to you. They share a look that you don’t understand and it only worsens your mood. “What? That we’re holding you back?” Billy questions, voice tight with something dangerous.

“No,” you snip, tossing your pillow at him. He deflects it with an irritated look, narrowed eyes meeting yours. “That I’m a mess.”

“She didn’t say that,” Stu objects, a cruel tilt to his lips. “Just that you need some touch-ups.” Billy chuckles and Stu joins him. The pair turns back to the TV and that’s that. You’re dismissed.

Frowning, you get to your feet and grab your bag. “Where’re you going?” Billy asks, not even turning around.

“I’m gonna head home,” you tell them, something souring your stomach the longer you’re in their presence.

“We haven’t even gotten to the movie, yet,” Stu whines. You ignore him, rushing toward his front door and throwing it open. With your back turned, you miss the harsh look the boys share. The type that would have had you turning around and sitting right back down on the couch.

Heading through the door, you think over Tatum’s harsh words. Cruel, but maybe necessary. Checking your watch, you figure it’s not midnight yet, surely Sid’s invite must still stand.

Sid’s surprised as she opens her front door. “Oh,” she offers a polite smile as she greets you.

Tatum pops up behind her, an impressed grin on her face. “Didn’t think you were going to show. Isn’t this your movie night?”

You sigh, fingers flexing around your bag. “Yeah. But you had a point. Your delivery sucked. But you had a point.” Tatum mushes Sid to the side and beckons you into the house.

“I know I did,” she’s far too proud of herself as she leads you over to the couch. Sid hovers behind you both, clearly not expecting you and unsure what to do with herself.

Tatum seems far more comfortable as she takes your bag from you. “I had hope you’d see sense,” she croons, dropping onto the cushion beside you.

Your shoulders tense and you try not to grimace at how enthused she is at making you over. You hadn’t thought you were that bad. Clearly, she disagreed. Tatum rifles through some magazines before dropping one in your lap.

“I have plans for you." It sounds more like a threat as you stare down at the glammed out model in the magazine.

An hour later, Tatum’s coiling freshly washed strands of your hair around her fingers while Sid sits in front of you, brushing eyeshadow across your lids. “You really don’t look bad,” she reassures. “But, it’s confidence that sells a look.”

“If a little mascara gives you some confidence, who knows?” Tatum shrugs as she spirals more hair around her finger. “Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend.”

The longer this little "sleepover" has gone on, the more you’ve felt they had ulterior motives. Sure, slumber parties in chick flicks always look fun. Pillow fights, makeup sessions, and gossiping with one another. But that hasn’t been happening. The girls seem strangely tense.

You’re pretty sure they’re hoping this makeover session will finally get you your own guy, so they can stop worrying about your relationship with their boyfriends. You hadn’t taken Sid as the insecure type, apparently you were wrong.

Still, this was nicer than some of the exes Billy and Stu had acquired. At least they were helping you out. Rather than starting rumors that you slept around with the teachers.

Thank you, Casey Becker.

You hadn’t exactly been sorry when you’d heard what the town’s new killer had done to her and her asshole boyfriend.

Billy and Stu had called you twisted when you’d said that, but you’d seen the way they smiled. You wouldn’t be friends with them if there wasn’t something a little off-kilter about you.

“Someone should have taught you how to do this a while ago,” Tatum mutters, talking about the hair you’d hardly ever put much thought into. You had been taught how to deal with it, but it was never your top priority. Typically, you braided it and just lived in it for a while.

Something about the way she says it reminds you of what she’d casually dropped at lunch. “What did you mean when you said Billy and Stu are holding me back?” Sid’s brush pauses on your cheek and Tatum’s hands still. You don’t have to look to know they’re sharing a silent conversation.

“It’s just something guys do,” Sid dismisses.

Your eyes narrow and she offers a tense smile. “Tatum?” You prod, knowing she doesn’t care about softening her words.

She lets out a little sigh and drops your hair. “Guys like having awkward girl friends. When they get dumped or go through a slump, she’s someone they can fall back on.”

“Like,” you pause, heart stuttering. “For sex?” Sid snorts at your blunt delivery and Tatum shrugs.

“Yeah, pretty much. They think if a girl’s lonely enough, she’ll sleep with anyone. It’s just a good way to keep a backup.”

“And you think that’s what they do with me?”

Sid’s eyes dart up to meet yours and you know she feels bad you’re having this conversation at all. “Sometimes. Sometimes they just like having someone around to make them feel better about themselves.”

Your heart drops to your feet and you don’t want to believe her. But something about what she says makes sense. Every time you complain about your clothes, hair, or anything too shallow or girly, the guys blow you off. They say stuff about not thinking you were into that vapid stuff.

Any chances you’ve had at a date, they’ll tell you shit about the guy you would never have guessed. Horrible things that make you uncomfortable and sick to your stomach. Half the time, you think they’re making it up, but you choose not to take the risk.

Every chance they get, they keep you all to themselves. And like an idiot, you’d just always thought that was because they wanted you the way you want them. Of course, Sid and Tatum would know better than you. They’re dating the boys after all. And it’s not so far out of character to assume Stu and Billy would be so malicious.

“Oh,” your stomach flips on itself and you blink watery eyes down at your hands. “Thanks for telling me,” you whisper. Tatum and Sid share a look over your shoulder. You see the guilt on Sid’s face, but you miss the wink Tatum sends her.

You follow what Sid and Tatum had taught you the night before, you don’t know which one you mess up worse, your hair or the makeup. You’ve missed first period by the time you finally make it out of the house. Meaning you manage to skirt around Billy and Stu right up until lunch.

Honestly, after what Sid and Tatum told you, no part of you actually wants to see them. But your boss at the video store is cutting your hours and you really need the cash Stu will give you for writing up his world civ essay.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you give yourself a little pep talk before forcing yourself to walk over to the fountain. Everyone’s there already, Sid and Tatum sprawled across their boyfriends. Meanwhile, Randy’s up and speaking with flailing arms. Like the court jester performing for the popular royals. It’s sickening what a cliche your friends have become when that’s what they’ve always made fun of.

“Watch the hands, Meeks,” you call out, nearly catching a slap to the face as he rants passionately about some horror flick you’ve never heard of.

He lets out a huff before turning to face you. Whatever argument he had dies on his tongue as he jerks back. You swallow roughly, hand reaching subconsciously toward your hair as he nearly pushes his nose against yours.

“Randy,” you whisper, mushing his face away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

His thumb reaches up, swiping for your cheek, and you just manage to slap his hand back. “Is that glitter?” He questions, positively dumbfounded.

“It’s blush,” you snap, pushing him back. “Would you get out of here, you weirdo?” Shaking your head, you rifle through your backpack until you find the folder for Stu.

You try not to look at him as you walk up, chest tightening at the dead silence you’re now surrounded by. Stu grabs the folder, but his hand snakes up, grabbing at your wrist before you can back up.

“Huh,” he pulls you down, eyes roaming across your face. You glance at Tatum and she gives you an encouraging smile. “It is glitter.”

“Eyeshadow, doofus,” she swats his arm. “You did a good job,” she reassures you.

“Made me late for school,” you mutter, skin warming the longer Stu stares.

“Why?” Billy asks, before anyone can say anything else. Stu releases you at the sound of his voice and you stumble back.

“I don’t know,” forcing yourself to meet his eyes, you startle at the coldness staring back at you. “Maybe I wanted to look pretty.”

Stu snorts and cuts you a sharp look. “You didn’t need to do drag to look pretty,” he mocks. Your hand shoots up to your face. You hadn’t even done close to as much as Sid and Tatum had taught you.

“Stu,” Tatum snaps, shooting him a harsh look.

He lets out a chuckle and jerks back, “What?” He glances over at you, but the smile on his face isn’t genuine. “I was joking. It looks fine, dude.”

For some reason, you find yourself looking over at Billy. His jaw is tensed, eyes glaring down at the ground. He seems to feel your stare, gaze snapping up to meet yours. Biting your tongue, you swallow the burn in the back of your throat. “It looks good,” he finally admits, hardly sounding like he wants to compliment you.

You purse your lips and nod, barely wanting to be around them for another second. Clearly, the girls were right about their theory. “Really good,” Randy adds on, a goofy look on his face. You let out a sharp laugh and roll your eyes at him.

“I know it’s not your thing,” Tatum starts, sucking on her lollipop with a proud smile. “But you should come to Stu’s party tonight.”

You grimace and begin to shake your head. “Seriously,” Sid encourages. “You’ll have fun, for once.”

“What are you two planning, you little vixen?” Stu taunts, fingers pinching at Tatum’s sides. Your eyes narrow at the way he speaks through gritted teeth, voice tight.

Swallowing bile at Billy and Stu’s reactions, you straighten up, forcing your voice to be strong. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” The girls shoot you odd looks and you shrug as you pluck your bag from the ground. “I’m covering for Randy at the store.”

Randy’s head shoots up, eyes glazed over with confusion. “You are?”

“God,” you roll your eyes. “Remind me how many times they’ve fired your ass.” With a smug grin, he holds up five fingers and winks.

“What a shame,” Stu clicks his tongue and he doesn’t even bother sounding disappointed. “We’ll miss you reminding everyone of curfew.”

Hurt tightens your chest as you let out a sharp scoff. “Fuck off, Macher.”

His nose wrinkles and he presses his hand to his chest. “Ouch,” he hisses.

Billy reaches over and swats his arm, clearly telling him to knock it off. But you know that look on Stu’s face. He’s pissed, about what, you never have a clue.

Deciding to spare yourself any more embarrassment, you turn around and head back to the school. You didn’t want to go to his stupid party. But it would’ve been nice if they had wanted you there. If they could have just shown you something, that meant what the girls told you was bullshit.

“How many times do I have to tell you to alphabetize by genre?” Your boss, Jason, tosses Halloween at you and storms off. The VHS smacks you square in the chest and you let out a sharp scoff. The fuck does that even mean?

“Seriously,” you jump as someone’s pointy chin digs into your shoulder. “How many times does he have to tell you,” Stu bemoans, stealing the tape from your hand. You cast your eyes back and catch his grin as he backs off from you.

“Don’t you have a party to be planning?” You snap, not bothering to keep the venom from your tone.

“Someone jealous she didn’t get an invite?” Billy comes up on the other side of you, sharp eyes alight with a rare teasing glint.

It’s like being circled by hyenas with the pair of them. They always corner their prey, backing them up until there’s nowhere to run. Currently, it’s keeping you locked in the horror section as they block both ends.

“No,” you cut your eyes to Stu, irritation only growing worse at his stupid grin. “But you didn’t have to be such a dick today,” you tell him, snatching the tape back so you can shelf it.

“Oh,” he croons, catching your wrist and tugging you back into his chest. “I think I hurt her feelings,” he mocks, pouting at Billy.

Billy raises his brows, leaning on the shelves as he shrugs. “Did he?”

“Is there a particular reason you guys are being such assholes to me, or are you just bored?” Billy’s eyes narrow as he offers a sharp smirk.

Stu lets his chin rest in the crook of your neck, ignoring how you try to wiggle out of his hold. “Is there a reason you decided to do this?” He asks, tugging at one of your curls. “I liked the whole puffed-out dandelion look.”

“Ugh,” a disgusted groan slips out as you elbow him in the side. His breath whooshes out of him and his arms finally loosen. “Why do you have such a hard-on about whether or not I style my hair?”

“You never cared before.” Billy frowns, eyeing you up and down. “All the best final girls don't give a shit about that stuff.”

Your eyes fall into slits as a bewildered scoff leaves you. “What geeky language are you even speaking?”

Stu barks out a sharp laugh, leaning forward until he's back in your field of view. “Says you,” he taunts.

Your head falls to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Do you guys need something? Jason already hates me. I don’t feel like having you two getting me fired.”

“Jason?” Billy questions. “The asshole that was bitching about genres?”

“That’s the one,” you hum, turning back to your cart and the piles of tapes you have to deal with.

“Dude seems like he needs to get laid,” Stu points out, eyes tracking Jason as he paces through the store. Yelling at the first person he sees over some made-up bullshit.

“Yeah, he probably does. But I doubt anyone’s that desperate.”

“No,” he taunts, and your hackles raise at his tone. “Not even you?”

You slam the tape down harder than you mean to. The noise echoes through the store, the shelves rattling beneath Stu and Billy’s careless bodies. Stu’s brows raise with poorly concealed excitement. “Get something or get the fuck out,” you hiss at him.

Taking hold of your cart, you shove past him before he can think of anything else smart to say. Insulting others seems to be the only time he’s capable of coming up with any wit of his own.

Of course, that means you get to be on the receiving end nine times out of ten. You make a good target for them, apparently.

Billy swats Stu’s arm, shoving him back and trailing after you. Stu lets out a snotty huff, randomly grabbing one of the tapes from the shelves as Billy falls into your check-out line.

“He’s a moron,” he excuses.

“And a jackass,” you snap, barely lifting your gaze to meet his. “Did you pick something?” Billy reaches behind himself, slapping Stu in the chest and making the other boy toss Prom Night on the counter.

You ignore how Stu’s gaze bores into the side of your head, scanning the VHS and looking over the blocky green letters on your screen. “You owe ten bucks for an overdue movie,” you tell him.

“Ten bucks?” he scoffs, “What movie?”

Tilting your head, you scoff, he’s such a cliche. “Basic Instinct, got a little crush on Sharon Stone, Stuart?”

Stu’s nose wrinkles as he glares at you. “Stuart?” he huffs, “You sound like my mother.” Pushing Billy out of the way, he props his elbows on the counter, chin resting in his palms. “Can’t you do your best friend a favor?”

You drop down to his level, matching his posture with a saccharine smile. “Why would I do that?” You tease, voice pitched with faux innocence.

Stu’s got a genuine grin on his face as you play along; it takes everything in you not to return it. “What are you doing?” The moment’s broken as you jump back, Jason’s harsh voice ruining the fun.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you turn back to the monitor and pretend to type some nonsense into the system. “Nothing, just checking them out.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” your head whips up at the insinuation, but he barely spares you any attention. He turns toward the boys with a sneer, “Just because you're friends with her, doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay like everyone else. Have the movie back by tomorrow, or you’re banned.”

“Jason-” you object.

“You’re already on thin ice,” he snaps, pointing his fat finger in your face. You resist the urge to snap your teeth at him. “Don’t push me,” he warns, as if he were scary at all beyond you not having a paycheck next week.

Stu watches him walk away with furrowed brows and a sneer. “God, what a prick.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “you’re telling me.” Feeling ever so slightly vindictive, you clear the charge from Stu’s account and toss him his tape. “Keep the movie, he’s an ass.”

Stu cares little for the other people waiting in line as he reaches across the counter and cups your cheeks. You let out a little squeak as he drags you closer, planting an obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek.

“What are friends for?” He mocks, pushing back from you.

“Ugh,” you wipe at your face and glare at him.

“See you,” Billy says as he shakes his head, yanking up Stu’s sleeve and dragging him away before he can make an even bigger scene.

You watch them leave with a disbelieving laugh. Stu could be a dick, but at least he was fun. Unlike other people, Jason, who got off on making everyone as miserable as them. Despite your general disinterest in drunk crowds of teenagers, you’d rather be at Stu’s party than deal with him the rest of the night.

You, however, didn’t receive an invite. So, you turn back to your cart of tapes and force yourself to go back to restocking.

Around midnight, you finish closing up the registers and pick up a cleaning rag and some spray. You hum to yourself as you move to the windows, beginning to wipe them down.

Jason is hiding in the back. Shirking all his responsibilities on you as you close up tonight. Meaning you probably won’t be getting home until one at the earliest.

Muttering to yourself, you work on scrubbing out a particularly tough stain. Whatever it is clings to the fabric of your rag, each wipe seeming to spread it more. With a huff, you lean down to spray some more cleaner when a dark shape moves in the corner of your eye.

Frowning, you straighten back up. The window before you is fogged with whatever ruined the glass. Tilting your head past it, you find a screaming white mask staring back at you.

“Fuck,” you jump back with a gasp, rag slipping from your hand. The figure stares, head tilting slowly as he surveys you. You can only stare for a minute, heart trapped in your throat as your chest stutters. Visceral panic fills you, spikes through your blood until you feel lightheaded.

He takes a step forward and your body jolts back to life. Stumbling over yourself, you rush to the door, flipping the lock before he can get any closer.

Of course, you knew all about the Woodsboro killer. Casey Becker's murder was worse than even Sid’s mom. But it still seemed so far disconnected from you that you hadn’t really thought about it.

After all, why the hell would anyone want to kill you? You never did anything.

But he’s staring right at you now. Beneath that ridiculous mask are the eyes of a killer. And they're set on you.

Too afraid to take your eyes off him, you stumble back until your hip is smashing into the corner of the counter. A pained hiss slips past your lips as your hand gropes blindly for the phone. He almost seems amused as he watches you, relaxed and at ease as his head follows your clumsy movements.

Finally managing to wrap your hand around the landline, you hastily press it to your ear. The monotonous ringing on the other end is possibly one of the worst sounds you’ve ever heard.

The phone slips from your hand, cracking against the floor as you stare at him. His head tilts and he shakes it slowly, mocking you.

“Jason?” You shout, forcing your eyes off the killer in front of you. With a sharp breath, you push off from the counter and run to the back. The door to Jason’s office is cracked, light spilling out from within.

You shove through, eyes burning as you fight back your panic. “Jason, we have to call-"

Your voice trails off into nothing as you take in the scene before you. His fan buzzes in the corner of the office, a droning noise amongst a scene straight from a crappy slasher movie.

Blood drips from the open gash of his throat. It trails down his arms, pooling along his fingers until it splashes against the floor. The noise echoes through the quiet space as your breath trembles. You trip over yourself as you back out of the office, stomach clenching painfully the longer you look into the open flesh of his throat. His eyes have rolled back, hidden beneath his eyelids, as his body goes cold.

“Oh,” you let out a revolted moan. “God,” you clap your hand over your mouth, tripping as you run from the room.

He had already been in here. Somehow, that psycho killed your boss. Then, for some reason, he decided to wait around for you to notice him outside. He’d been smart enough to cut the phone line. Why is he playing with you now?

Racing back to the front, you find him right where you left him. Just outside the front door, head still tilted with amusement. “What the….”

He taps his knife against the window. Tap, tap, tap, slowly, he lifts his head, straightening up as he nods behind you. Just barely, you managed to turn in time to see the knife slashing toward you.

With a shrill scream, you dive to the side, terror filling you as you realize there are two of them. They don’t give you long to dwell on that. The second one dives for you while the one outside works on breaking the glass door.

Kicking your leg out, you manage to catch the one in front of you in the shin. He lets out a raspy groan, muffled by the mask, as he falls forward. Your hands grope along the floor, desperate for any sort of weapon. The best you have is a VHS. You don’t let that stop you from smacking the sharp corner into the temple of the man next to you. His hand flies up to his head, another pathetic groan leaving him.

You scramble to your feet just as the sound of glass shattering echoes through the store. A brick skips across the carpet, stopping just before your shoes. With a shaky breath, you look over to find the second man stepping slowly through the empty doorway.

His gaze flicks to yours and you let out a small whimper as the other one begins getting to his feet. “Shit,” you hiss, not sparing them another glance as you rush to the back. You can hear their footsteps quick behind you, just barely managing to slip into Jason’s office as they catch up.

You slam the door shut, body jolting roughly as they try to barrel through. With a groan, you shove your shoulder forward, shoes squeaking against linoleum as you force the door the rest of the way closed.

Panic-slick palms slip against the handle until you’re finally turning the lock. The door rattles violently as you step away, their bodies thudding against the wood as they try and batter their way through.

You don't waste any time, whipping around toward Jason’s computer and dialing into the modem. You work around your boss’s dead body, eyes burning at the smell of death and copper that floods his office. Your fingers fly across the keyboard, quick to connect to emergency services. You just manage to send your address when the door flies open behind you.

A scream rips from your throat as you jump around the desk. They both stand in the doorway, shoulders heaving as their muffled breaths fill the air. Your hands tremble at your sides as they split away from one another. The tallest lingers by the desk, the shorter one hovers in the doorway. They’ve cornered you, left you nowhere to run.

You back up as much as you can, wincing as your back connects with Jason’s metal filing cabinets. The shorter one lunges first. Your hand wraps around the handle of one of the cabinets and you wrench it forward, jumping back as it slams into the ground.

You manage to catch him off guard as he jerks back. You leap over the fallen cabinet and shove past him. A gloved hand wraps around your elbow, roughly shoving you forward.

Right into the tip of his blade.

A low moan escapes you, heart beating furiously against your chest as blood begins to weep from your stomach. Your eyes flutter shut at the sharp burst of pain. Fire lights up along your nerves.

When he begins to pull away, trying for another hit, you shove him back with all the strength you have left. He stumbles with a grunt, tripping over the cabinet and crashing into the other one.

You press your hands against your stomach, running from Jason’s office, and leaping through the shattered front door. You can only hear the crunch of your shoes against the broken glass. You can’t spare any attention to what might be following behind.

You don’t let yourself stop, pushing forward even as your lungs tighten until it hurts worse to breathe than it did to be stabbed. By the time your legs finally give out, lights are speeding down the road toward you. Doors slam and familiar voices call your name as you crash against the pavement, blood pooling from your hands and onto the asphalt below.

“I’m not the one who thought we should test her.”

Consciousness is slow to come back to you. Distantly, you can hear familiar hushed voices. “Well, I’m not the one who tried to fucking gut her.”

You hear what sounds like a slap and then a harsh, “Shut the fuck up!”

Your mind is fuzzy, dulled by the edges of pain and sleeping too long. You can hardly recognize the voices, let alone understand what they’re saying.

“You’re lucky she’s still alive.”

There’s a brief pause and then a low chuckle that makes shivers run up your spine. “What the hell were you going to do if she wasn’t?”

A strange sound slips from your lips, a groan, maybe. It’s hard to tell as your eyes adjust to the sterile lights of the hospital room.

Immediately, there’s a weight sat beside you, large hands covering your own. You blink slowly, forcing your eyes to focus as you take in your surroundings. “Stu?” You mutter, voice wrecked as your gaze dips from his concerned face to Billy’s stoic one.

Your head tilts, nose wrinkling as you notice they’re both wearing hospital gowns. Stu even has an IV hooked to his arm.

“What’s going on?” You try to straighten up, but your arms buckle out from under you. Stu reaches forward, gentle for once, as he helps you sit up.

Slowly, Billy makes his way to your side, perching just beside you, mirroring Stu. “How do you feel?” He asks, dodging your question.

You blink, struggling to take inventory of yourself. “Uh,” you shrug, frowning at the pain burning through your stomach. “Weird.”

“That’s the meds. They’ve got us on the same shit.” Stu lets go of your hands to lift his gown, showing a large, red-tinted bandage along his side.

“Jesus,” you reach out, fingers just brushing the edge. “What the hell happened to you two?”

“Sid’s dad,” Billy cuts in. Your head whips around to him so fast you’re surprised it doesn’t pop off. He offers a sardonic smirk as your jaw drops.

“Sorry, what?”

“Yeah, apparently the dude lost it,” Stu cuts in, eyes wide with something you don’t like. “Freaked out and just went on a bloody spree. He got us last night.” Billy reaches over and swats Stu’s arm. He lets out a little huff, “He got Tatum, too.”

“Stu-“

“And Sid.” Billy cuts you off before you can even start to console. Your eyes clench shut before shooting back open. This is way too much to be processing when you’ve just woken up from a drug-induced coma.

Your lips part, condolences ready on your tongue. But neither of them seems especially desperate for that. Stu’s got your hands in his, eyes watching every micro expression of yours like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Billy seems distant. Expected when your girlfriend is murdered by her father. But this is different, somehow.

There’s something he doesn’t want you to see.

“I,” your mind races with a hundred different thoughts before settling on one. “I don’t get it. Why'd he come after me?”

Stu scoffs, “Why'd he murder his daughter? Nothing about this will ever make sense.”

“Yeah, but-"

“We should let the doctor know you're awake.” Billy gets to his feet, cutting you off again. Stu lingers for a moment before reluctantly releasing your hands. Your eyes dart between them, not eager to just be left on your own again.

“We’ll stop by later,” Stu promises, the wheels of his IV drip squeaking as they both shuffle from your room. Your hand drifts to your stomach, mind growing consumed with the throbbing pain. Something isn’t right.

When you’re well enough that your meds can be cut back, you go off on your own to find the boys. You’re sick of being alone in your room. Terrified that every time you look through your window, that screaming mask will be staring back at you.

Sid’s dad is dead. Dewey and the others had reassured you a hundred times. But that didn't mean that Ghistface was dead. You saw him.

Saw them.

It wasn’t just one man behind the slaughter. But you hadn’t told Dewey that. Hadn’t told the sheriff. Not even the nosy ass reporter that kept sneaking her way past security.

No part of you had been able to reason away why you kept that information to yourself. There was no plausible excuse to protect the men who tried to kill you. Still, you can’t help but feel that if murder really had been their plan, you wouldn’t have gotten away that night.

Shuffling through the hospital halls, you keep an arm wrapped tight around your wound as you make your way to Stu’s room.

He seems miserably bored as he flips through channels on his TV. His face lights up when he sees you in the doorway. You chuckle as he tosses his remote away. Beckoning you closer as he pulls back his sheets.

Carefully, you help yourself into his bed, letting out a pained sigh as you try to get comfortable. “Where’s Billy?”

Stu shrugs, “I don’t know, probably using the bathroom. The meds they’ve got us on have me pissing like crazy.”

You let out a little snort and swat his arm. “You’re disgusting.”

Stu catches your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. His eyes bore into the scratchy hospital blanket, stare pensive. You think about offering to bring him something more comfortable when he speaks.

“Do you even like horror movies?”

Your brows furrow. Out of anything he could have said, that was probably the last thing you were expecting. “What?” You let out a disbelieving chuckle and he shrugs.

“We always force you through them on movie night. But I don’t think you’ve ever said you like them.”

You frown, picking at the threads of his fraying blanket. “I don’t know, what’s it matter?”

“Humor me,” he insists, tone unsettling. Looking back up, you nearly pull away. The vacant look in his eyes is disturbing.

“No,” you whisper, feeling like you’re telling him something you shouldn’t. “I don’t like them.”

“Why do you watch them?” He pushes, sitting up until his nose is nearly brushing yours. You would pull back if it didn’t feel like his stare had frozen you to the spot.

“I feel like if I don’t, you guys won’t want to hang out with me anymore.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Why are you asking me all this?” You whisper, eyes burning the longer Stu stares into them. He stays still for a moment, gaze running across yours. With a sharp bark of laughter, he falls back onto his pillows. You jump at the sudden movement and finally realize just how hard your heart is pounding against your ribs. His face cringes with pain as he tugs at his stitches.

“Wanna know my favorite trope?” He brushes past your question, armed with another series of his own. Fingers flexing under his tight grip, you try not to grimace. He doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“The final girl,” he whispers, waving one hand as if it’s some big reveal. “She never goes out. Never parties. Doesn’t care what she looks like,” his grip tightens infinitesimally around yours.

You want to tell him it hurts, but you can’t force the words from your tightened throat. “Always manages to outsmart the killers. She's always so perfect. Except,” he holds up one scolding finger with a sharp grin. “When she helps assholes like me cheat on his homework.”

You jerk back, flesh stinging like you’ve been burned. Stu lets you go, smile creeping ever wider. “What the hell are you saying?” You demand, voice cracking as you get to your feet.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, barely concealing his excitement as you back out of the room. “It’s just a joke,” he needles.

Your back slams into something firm and your breath catches in your throat. “I don’t think we ever asked,” Stu taunts with a chuckle.

Tilting your face back, you see Billy standing behind you, eyes dark and cold as they bore into yours.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He whispers.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘵?

𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻

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💿 I saw the vision 💿