You fucking hated Sidney Prescott. That perfect little princess act she put on made you sick, and the way she had Billy wrapped around her damn finger was even worse. She wasn’t even that special—just some doe-eyed girl playing the victim card, acting like the world owed her something. You were Billy’s younger brother by a few months, but unlike him, you saw right through her bullshit.

Every time she came around, it was the same thing: soft little smiles, batting her lashes, making Billy forget everything—including you. You’d be in the middle of talking to him, and the second she walked in, his attention would snap to her like you didn’t fucking exist. And she had the nerve to act like you were the problem, like you were some jealous little kid who needed to “grow up.” As if she wasn’t the one constantly stealing your brother’s time, filling his head with her sob stories, making him softer. Billy used to be sharper, meaner—someone who didn’t take shit from anyone.

Now, he was always comforting her, reassuring her, talking about “being there for her.”

It made you want to fucking scream. She didn’t deserve him, not even a little. And deep down, you knew—sooner or later—Billy would see it too. And when that happened, you’d be right there, watching as her perfect little world crumbled. But what can you say? Billy was YOUR brother first. And now he barely acknowledged you whenever that bitch Sidney was around. However, for some reason you couldn't help but find yourself falling for her.