The Devils Bargain | stuilly | billyxstu | stuxbilly

Chapter 8

= 2 days before Stu woke up. =

Billy looks down at the clothes his mom bought him. He knew he should be appreciative, they were good clothes. She got his size and even asked him exactly what clothes he wanted. Still, it felt weird. Not even talking about how he should be embarrassed since he remembered the term 'does your mom buy your clothes for you?' being an insult used often in school.

He just remembered thinking, ' I wish .' before he promptly punched them square in the nose.

It was more than that. Billy was somewhat torn in two places. One part of him was always in that room, watching over Stu, and the other wanted to ditch Stu and just go spend every waking moment with his mom.

His mom doesn't seem to mind him looking after Stu. Though it was obvious from her disappointed tone when he told her that he couldn't go to watch some new movie because he needed to change Stu's gauze and make sure he was still breathing, that she would rather him not spend so much time with him.

Billy was a little self-conscious about spending so much time with Stu, he still is. He always feels like he has to justify caring about his best friend. Not only to himself but to his mom, who always seemed to look at him differently when he mentioned Stu in any sort of light.

Was he talking about him too nicely? Do I really need to make sure Stu drinks something today? Do I really need to check up on him today? Chances are he's still sleeping, not dead, rotting in his own stench.

All things he's had to tell himself when he woke up to a call from his mom, once again trying to fill a day with mother-son bonding.

It was a slippery slope. One wrong word, and it'll all be over. Billy didn't want—no, he couldn't lose his mom over Stu. He knew, despite his weird and very unwanted sentimentality for Stu, that he would drop him if his mom asked, and yet, when he thinks about his mom suggesting it, he gets nauseous.

He figured it was because Stu was really the only person Billy had left from before. They always had that weird bond thanks to their shared love for horror and, well, the killing thing. It's hard to find a partner like that that you can trust.

Today, his mom wanted him to meet someone. Billy hadn't thought about the second ghost face with everything that had been happening, but apparently he had made a whole scene about wanting to meet him.

Billy would rather not, though. From what he's heard about the guy, he seems obsessed with getting caught and making some case about movies causing violence. He obviously doesn't agree; in fact, when his mother explained his 'motive', Billy wanted to meet him, just to shove a kitchen knife down his throat.

He has the audacity to wear the costume and go against everything it means. It's a love letter to movies, to horror. It's not meant to be used to try and deface it.

If Billy had a choice, he'd rather never meet the guy, and yet here he was, sitting in some cafe, his mom ordering them coffee and cakes and all the normal stuff you expect when you come to a quaint cafe at the end of the road.

Billy was wearing a jacket this time; since he'd have to stay still for a while, a hat wasn't going to work as well. Not that he thought anyone would know or care who he was. But all it took was one wrong person.

One may say he's a little paranoid, but he'd say its caution.

"He'll be here soon, son." His mom came over, putting the coffee she had ordered for them on the table, having gotten herself a little muffin to go with her cappuccino.

"Fine." His mom tutted, pulling her coat off her shoulders, her reporter badge hanging off her neck like a noose. "Billy, dear, please try to be civil. Mickey has been so helpful; I do think you might get along."