𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥, billy loomis & stu macher

31 eeny, meeny, miny, moe

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(   chapter thirty-one,   eeny, meeny, miny, moe   )
❝ honestly, I thought that I would be
dead by now ❞

april 15th,   1998

"I CAN'T BELIEVE it! They got Tori Spelling to play Sid, and they cast Joe Blow nobody to play me!" Randy scoffed, glaring at the small TV in the corner of the Baskin Robbins. "At least you get Juliette Lewis. I get the guy who drove the stagecoach in one episode of Dr. Quinn."

Kathryn chuckled, stirring her strawberry ice cream into a smoothie-like consistency - it was the only way she'd ever been able to eat the sweet treat; a habit she'd had since she was a kid.

"At least your character isn't painted as a boyfriend-stealing whore," the words left her mouth harsher than intended, but she couldn't help the resentment as she watched a clip from Stab. In it, her character was in the kitchen, exchanging doe-eyed looks with Billy's character. Her grip tightened around her spoon.

"It's crazy how Gale managed to nail certain details in her book but couldn't bother to represent me right," she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. From across the table, she caught a glance of Randy's sympathetic gaze.

"You know how Gale is," he replied, trying to comfort her. "She'll do anything for the green, even if it means stretching the truth. Besides, the audience loves a good 'best friend's boyfriend' trope. Gets them every time."

As much as Kathryn hated to admit it, he was right. Gale was a lying, money-hungry snake, and every time her face popped up on screen, Kathryn wanted to throw something at the TV. Stab had painted her in a terrible light, and ever since its release, rumors about her supposed affair with her best friend's boyfriend have been circulating. Though she'd never admit it out loud, Gale's portrayal hurt. She didn't want people to see her that way, but now they did - all over a lie.

And what could she do? Nothing. She let the lies fester, eating away at her as she wondered how things had gone wrong so quickly. Sometimes, she even dreamed of running away to Paris with nothing and nobody but her cat, starting over with a new name, and a new personality. A fresh start.

A girl could dream.

Rolling her eyes, Kathryn pulled herself out of her thoughts. "Well, if she keeps this up, she'll be getting a lawsuit instead," she pushed her empty bowl aside just as she noticed a familiar face approaching their table. Kathryn smiled brightly, "Hey, Deputy Doofy."

Dewey chuckled, sliding into the seat next to her. "Don't call me that," he said playfully, then nodded at Randy, who was still glaring at the TV. "See anything you like?"

"Nothing but a bunch of bullshit," Randy grumbled, narrowing his eyes. "Do you know who they cast to play me? Of course not! He's a nobody! But lucky you - you got David Schwimmer."

Kathryn held her hand out expectantly. "Pay up."

Randy rolled his eyes and pulled a crumpled five-dollar bill from his pocket, handing it over. Kathryn smirked as she slipped it into her bag. It was a drunken rule they'd randomly set for each other: if you swear, you pay. Fortunately for her, Randy never seemed to remember.

"All right, let's get down to business."

Dewey, Kathryn, and Randy had arranged to meet to discuss the possible suspects of these Windsor killings. Originally, it was just supposed to be her and Dewey, but she'd invited Randy along, knowing he was the serial killer expert.