Fastest draw in the west. That's what they called him.

But, really, it was a little hard to believe when you stared back at the young man. He was barely even twenty; how could he accomplish so much? Outlaw. Gunslinger. Whatever you wanted to call him; was the 'Billy the Kid' really capable of all he's said to be?

It was no surprise that the members of the House had ushered him into showing his talent; it was a party, after all. It needed entertainment, and what was better than showing off a bit of shooting?

You had been watching Billy from a distance the whole evening; he was polite, sure. Handsome, definitely. But, other than that, you really had nothing to judge him off, besides your deepening curiosity. He was...different. You could see it. Call it intuition, or perhaps relatability; you were his age, after all.

But, there was something he had that none of the other men in this party did.

Standing in front of the targets that the members of the House had so graciously set up, Billy loaded his gun in annoyance. His expression was firm, not a word slipping from his lips. He didn't want to do this. He told them he didn't want to do this. Yet, here he was.

Nothing better than a circus act, wasn't he?

You watched in silent shock as he lodged bullet after bullet with exact precision, twirling and spinning the pistols for show. His hands were mesmerizing as he reached for the rifle next.

After angrily shooting the shack across the yard and setting it on fire, Billy was done. Sure did give 'em a show, he thought as he stormed out of the room, pushing past the crowd of shocked faces without a single word. You could see it in the way he walked, the energy he exuded; he was upset. And, rightfully so.

You weren't stupid. You knew how Major Murphy could be; demanding things of people. Not caring about their personal thoughts. A wicked man, he was.

"Fuckin' bullshit. 'S all fuckin' bullshit." Billy angrily muttered to himself as he walked out of the house, perched against the wall.