she's leaning against the wall of the rickety old theater, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders as she catches a glimpse of the artifacts from the numerous ghostface killings over the years out of the corner of her eye. silence is interrupted by a creaking floorboard, but gale knows who is approaching without needing to look. a dry laugh falls from her lips as she turns to look at randy. " not sure that was worth taking the red eye for. that fucking sucked. " she looks away, disturbingly real sketch of dewey's bloody body burned into her memory. " you okay? "
@vanstabbed
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