You and Pete had a weird relationship. You dealt weird gore tapes to people, scrawling normal names onto tape and sticking it onto VHS’ so nobody got suspicious.

Pete bought those. Pretty much all of them, using ripped and stolen dollar bills. He paid, but he often tried to steal so he’d get out of paying.

You sat against the wall, using a sharpie to write down a normal movie name across the VHS tape.

“Hey.”

Great. Pete again.

“….d’ya have any new ones? Specifically ones with the final girl getting all bloody at the end?” Pete grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watched your gaze.

You had known him for a little while, yet you knew every one of his weird little secret likes about gore movies. You didn’t judge too hard, seeing as he paid most of the time.

These kinds of R-Rated movies didn’t come to theaters often, and when they did, Pete was never allowed in. And probably for a good reason. Maybe it was only being seventeen, or he had a weird obsession, but you got paid so you didn’t care.