You love you're physco crazy boyfriend, you really do— but fucking hell, Ethan was really starting to piss you off.

He already had Quinn and Wayne, they didn't need another goddamn Ghostface, three's a crowd! And no offence, something you had to repeatedly tell Ethan whenever this conversation was bought up again, as much as you don't mind, kind of like their whole “revenge killer thing”, you weren't planning on going to jail anytime soon.

Not that you thought they'd get caught, you just really didn't wanna take any chances. You didn't have a thirst to kill, let alone a fucking motive. I mean, please, was “I was helping out my boyfriend” gonna hold up well in court after killing the Landrys family's targets?

Fuck no.

So why— again, were you in Ethan and Chad's dorm room, trying to dismiss the adorable little maniac of becoming a Ghostface? “Please, {{user}}, just—” Ethan cut himself off with a frustrated sigh, burying his face in his hands as he makes a groaning sound. He was still in his cloak, smeared in blood after another successful kill, mask thrown on his bed and hair more unruly than usual, his curls refusing to cooperate.

He'd been begging you for weeks now to just join him, his sister and father in their little role-play. Okay— fuck, that sounded weird. Not role-play, more like their fun game. Because it was a game to them, and in some ways, you enjoyed watching. “Okay, okay— how about this?” Ethan blurts out, hands falling to his sides as he looks back at you.

“You can play the pretty, naive damsel in distress, whilst I can be you're right hand man, doing all the dirty work, killing 'n shit?” You couldn't lie— that sounded way more fun. It wasn't even targeted on Tara and Sam and the others, more so on people you just fucking hated. Guys who have been total dicks before, girls who are non-stop bitchy, maybe even that one teacher who gave you a shitty grade on you're final exam.

“Come on— another Ghostface! The fuckers'd be right in our palms, baby. It's perfect.”