"Reese," Randy muttered in a rather deflated manner. "is gonna need a chaperone."
Sidney sighed, "I'll fill her in on it at Tatum's."
"Definitely gonna need a chaperone."
No less than 15 minutes into Randy's meeting did Reese succumb to boredom and, as a result, decided to take a nap to pass the time -- who could blame Reese? <Must be nice.> Sidney, cradling Reese's head in her hands, didn't dare wake Reese, let alone let the others. The dark bags under Reese's eyes concerned Sidney -- had she slept at all this week? With the Becker and Orth murder, their father, Neil Prescott, leaving for business, and the 1st anniversary of both their mother's, Maureen Prescott, death, and Reese's kidnapping at the hands of Maureen's killer, both of the Prescott sisters were notably, notably on edge. It had been a long, long week for the Prescott sisters, for their friends, for Woodsboro as a whole.
This is too much.
The meeting carried on, with Sidney taking each and every word to heart, committing said words to memory, not wanting to miss a single detail; Reese had to know anything and everything, be it useless or not. Reese snuggled deeper, deeper into Sidney's embrace. Sidney smiled -- Billy frowned. The sight of Reese in arms other than his own wasn't a sight he liked to see... at all. It was unacceptable. It didn't matter whose. It was unacceptable. It was unacceptable. Only... and I mean only... Billy was allowed to do it. Reese belonged to Billy and Billy belonged to Reese. Reese belonged to Billy and Billy belonged to Reese. Reese belonged to Billy and Billy belonged to Reese. Blood at a raging, raging boil, Billy bit his tongue and forced his attention back to Randy.
The meeting had come to an end -- it's about DAMN time! -- and Reese was in a dead sleep. At some point, the other students had cleared out, leaving the courtyard otherwise void of life, aside from the group and the plants. Randy offered to carry Reese back home, but Billy straight up refused his offer. Randy was in shock. Randy began to open his mouth to speak, to ask Billy why he was interjecting himself into the conversation, making decisions for others, but thought better of it and closed his mouth. There was something about Billy that unnerved Randy, to say the least, especially these days, but he couldn't put his finger on It. Billy was with Sidney -- Billy wasn't with Reese. Randy gulped and looked away, unable to stand the look that Billy shot his way -- how were the others not seeing any of this!?
What in the world has gotten into you, Loomis?
A curtain of silence, of tension, of uncertainty, of God knows what, closed in on Randy in a manner similar to that of a curtain closing in on a theatre screen, signalling the end of a screening! It was asphyxiating. It was crippling. It was claustrophobic. It made Randy want to scream. It made Randy want to run for the hills. It made Randy want to disappear into himself. It made Randy feel... <I,> Randy gathered-up his belongings as fast as he could manage all the while trying to appear calm, and dished out a goodbye before forcing himself to walk, not run, out of the courtyard! <have to get out of here!> Sidney looked at Randy, then at Billy, then back at Randy. Stu snickered, obviously amused by it all. Tatum arched a brow. A barely audible yawn redirected their attention to Reese, who had long since awoke from her nap, pushed herself up into a sitting position, and looked around at her friends, confusion scrawled across her face, most prevalent in her dark, brown eyes.
Reese's voice was laced with sleep, "What in the...?
Sidney gasped, "Wait, did I wake you, Sis!?"
"No?"
"O-Oh, um, Randy just left -- the meeting ended 20 minutes ago."
"Running."
"Running?"
"Randy... why was Randy running?"
* * *
What a day.
What a day.
What a damn day.
What a day.
Exhaustion tugged at the entirety of the man's body as he flopped onto his bed and buried his face in the comforter, the papers that he'd once carried now dusted about the bed. <4:30 PM...> The man rolled lazily onto his back. <... did something happen?> It wasn't like the couple in question to not be home by now. Hazel eyes scanned the room from behind thick, black-rimmed glasses, flickering with concern.
The man called out, not expecting a response, "Sis?"
Nothing. Stifling a yawn or 2, the Man placed his glasses on the nightstand, rubbed his tired, aching eyes, and stretched as best as he could without knocking any of the papers onto the floor below. <It's probably nothing.> The man mustered his remaining bits of strength and pushed himself up, up onto his feet before making his way to the attached bathroom, his muscles dying for a nice, hot shower.
The man stopped to look at himself in the mirror, the bags under his eyes all the more noticeable -- he needs a nap -- and the bridge of his nose slightly, slightly bruised from hosting his glasses. He looked a mess. The man stepped into the shower and hummed appreciatively as the scorching water glided across his skin and down the drain at his feet. Steam had long since flooded the bathroom, causing a thick, thick layer of condensation to lay claim to the mirror, but the man didn't seem to mind it.
A faint, red tint blossomed on the man's otherwise tan skin, no doubt the byproduct of the water; how hot is it, anyway? <Why,> He scowled, reaching for the soap. <did I agree to go back tonight?> It wasn't like the man disliked his job, but... it could be a real bitch at times. <Oh, that's right.> A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. The project had yet to be completed. It was in the way. His way. Her way. His way. Their way. Everyone's way.
The man reached for his towel, "We are making a movie, after all."
YOU ARE READING
REESE
HorrorDISCLAIMER: This is a fanfiction based on Scream('96); I do not claim ownership over the world of Scream('96), nor the canon characters such as Sidney Prescott, ETC. REESE is my own invention and is not purported and/or believed to be part of Kevin...
