Billy

[Stryge (DELETED 7204)]

(*OOC This story takes places prior to Stryge's turning)

Stuart Ryan Giger sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. It was time to let the mask slip. His features sagged down the from the amiable grin and laughing eyes that had become his go-to expression when in public, a way to keep people's unease at bay. Nothing to see here. Move along. Absolutely no chance that I'm going to slit my own throat tonight, no sirree bob! It was especially important that he keep up the facade now that he had put down the deposit on what was sure to be his final destination, the small but comfortable room at Bunk Backpackers. He wasn't sure how long it would be until the end, but he knew it would be soon. In the meantime, Stuart had to try and keep from doing anything to alarm this pleasant group of Canadians he had found himself among. After all, it would be a lot harder to finish the job if he was locked up in a mental ward.

There was blood on the windshield. He could still see it in his mind. The Lexus he had been driving that night had long since gone to the scrap head, had been declared a total loss by the insurance company, at least that's what somebody, probably his father or another lawyer, had told him. Stuart had really not paid attention to much of anything between the night of the accident and the day of trial. It had all melted into a dark puddle in his mind. But he could still see the the blood on the windshield every time he closed his eyes.

Stu grunted and rubbed his face, snapping himself out of his reverie. He was not quite ready yet, not quite ready to end this. He would need to be around people for a little longer. He decided to go downstairs and get a drink. But first, there was one last bridge he needed to torch. He pulled out the burner he had purchased from a wireless shop in Toronto, and dialed Billy's number.

"Hello? Who is this?" The voice that answered had a southern twang, sharper (almost in a grating way) than Stu's own laid back drawl. It was not surprising that Billy didn't recognize the number. Stu had long since gotten rid of his personal phone, and any other connections that people could use to find him. No emails, Facebook, or credit cards. He had purchased this throwaway phone for the sole purpose of making this call. Still, Billy should have guessed something right away when he saw he was getting an incoming call from a Canadian phone number. But then again, Billy never really was the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Billy it's me. Stu. I just wanted to call and say thanks for everything. I think I'm where I need to be now. Couldn't have done it without you buddy."

"Stuart? Uh, that's great man. I'm happy for you..." There was something about Billy's manner. He seemed hesitant. Stuart had heard this note in his oldest friend's voice before. Every time he fucked up and then tried to hide it. Every time Stuart got a call from the county jail and had to bail Billy's dumb *** out. Oh Lord Billy, thought Stuart. What did you do this time?

"Billy, what's going on?"
"Uh, nothing man. It's really great to hear your voice. I wish you all the best, really!"

Stuart's patience was wearing thin. He was no longer the man he was before the accident, a man who, though certainly shallow and self-interested, a spoiled little rich kid, had always seemed to be able to draw from an infinite reserve of kindness when it came to dealing with Billy's **** ups. That kindness was gone now. The center of his self had consumed him like a black hole. And he would soon be diving headlong into it with one final act. Nothing could be allowed to jeopardize that.

"Cut the ********, Billy. What the hell did you do?"
"I'm sorry Stu, but the man he sent...he scared me."
"The man who sent?" Stuart asked, but a pit was forming in his stomach. He already knew the answer.
"Your father, Stu. He sent a guy round to see me. That man, he...threatened things. I told them. I'm sorry Stu, I told them you were in Canada."

The pit in his stomach had become a gaping sinkhole, through which it felt as if all of his internal organs were being sucked out. He felt both hot and cold at the same time. He felt the skin on his face flush a deep red as rage consumed him. "Goddammit Billy, I trusted you! You were the last one, the last one I let stay in my life, and you ******* betrayed me!"
"Stu man, calm down, he still doesn't know where in Toronto you are. Hell I don't even know that, since you never told me." The last with a hint of hurt to. How dare he, that sniveling little cretin. Still, Stuart was glad that he had been careful, that he had kept up the ruse to Billy that Toronto was where he would be staying. He hoped to God that Billy would never recall mentioning to Stu's father the name of a little town Billy had visited once a child while on a family trip to Ontario; a little town called Harper Rock.

Stuart sucked in a deep breath. He had to stay calm. He couldn't afford for the other residents of Bunks to hear him through the walls. It was time to end this.

"We're done, do you hear me Billy? You will never hear from me again, you little piece of ****. Go **** yourself."
"Stu wait, please-" Billy's reply was cut off as Stuart clicked off the phone. He sat there for a minute on the edge of the bed. He stared at the wallpaper, watching the patterns form shapes that seemed to eerily resemble blood on the windshield. With a fluid motion Stuart rose up and swung his arm, the phone whistling across the room and smashing to pieces against the wall. It was time to go get that drink.