Inside the mind of Billy Loomis

The mask we wear

The mask felt smooth under my fingers, a simple piece of molded plastic that hid my true self better than my face ever could. There's something about a mask—it frees you. Behind it, you can be anything or anyone. And right now, I was Ghostface, an idea, a terror, a game. But outside of it? I was just Billy Loomis: Sidney Prescott's loving boyfriend, the guy who fit in so well that no one ever guessed what was really lurking inside.

Stu leaned against the wall of his garage, the dim light casting long shadows across his face. His grin was wide, too wide. That unsettling energy Stu had—always on the edge of chaos, never quite knowing if he was playing or if he was serious—had drawn me in from the beginning. And here we were, planning out what would be our greatest thrill yet.

"Sid's got no clue, huh?" Stu's voice broke the silence, his tone light but laced with an undercurrent of something darker, something I recognized all too well.

I smirked. "No clue. She's perfect, isn't she?"

Sidney was perfect—perfectly naïve, perfectly trusting. It's almost like she was made to be part of this. Every time I kissed her, I could feel the layers of deceit building, her trust in me deepening. And that's what made it so sweet, so exhilarating.

Stu chuckled softly and stood up straight, moving a little closer. His presence always had a certain pull, something electric, something dangerous. We had a rhythm, Stu and I. It was more than just the plan. There was... something else. Something I didn't acknowledge, but it was there, humming beneath the surface.

"Y'know," he said, inching closer, "I've been thinking about the grand finale."

I raised an eyebrow, my smirk never fading. "You're always thinking about the finale. Focus, Stu. We've got to handle things just right."

His grin widened, and for a moment, his eyes met mine in a way that made the air between us heavy. It wasn't just the plan. It wasn't just Sidney. There was a thread tying Stu and me together, tighter than either of us would admit.

Sid was safe. At least, for now. Tonight wasn't about her. Tonight was about the hunt, the thrill.

Stu leaned in a little too close, his breath hot against my ear, voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, I love this little game we're playing, Billy. But... sometimes I think you're having too much fun with her."

I turned my head, our faces inches apart. There it was again, that electric current that crackled between us. The suggestion in his voice wasn't lost on me. For a second, I wondered if I was pushing him too far, testing his limits too much. But I liked testing him.

"We all have our roles, Stu," I said quietly, letting the words hang between us.

He pulled back with a small laugh, shaking his head as if brushing off the tension. But I knew better. Stu and I shared more than just this twisted game. It was there in the looks we exchanged, the way we danced around each other's boundaries without ever truly crossing them.

For now, we had work to do. I reached into my jacket, pulling out the knife we'd been practicing with for weeks. The blade caught the light, gleaming cold and sharp. Stu's eyes locked on it, that wicked grin back on his face. He loved this part. So did I.