Five Ways Roman Bridger Could Have Taken His Mother's Rejection

by Lilly Chase

The way Roman handled Maureen Prescott's rejection was only the final version of the movie. Before the final cut there were five other possible ways the script could have gone for him, not all with the same characters.

Five Ways Roman Could have Taken His Mother's Rejection

1. All I wanted to do was make a classic love story…

When his mother Rina Reynolds, he wouldn't call her by her other name, he was supposed to be her family, slammed the door in his face he felt cold. The only thing that had kept him going was the thought of reuniting with his mother. It had been hard, so hard, after his parents' deaths to find out that not only were they not his real parents but he was the result of his real mother being sexually attacked. It had been hard to accept, and he knew it must have been hard for her but he knew, he knew that if they just found each other again, they could get past it and maybe put the ugly circumstances of his birth behind them. But, apparently that wasn't going to happen.

He fumed for weeks; if the bitch said Rina Reynolds was dead then maybe he should finish off the job with the body. He took a camcorder and watched her, watched his mother, the woman who should have held him and taught him all his firsts, sneak off to cheap hotel rooms with other, sometimes married, men. There seemed to be more with one of them, a Cotton Weary. He was almost…like her second husband. HA. He knew he wanted her dead but he didn't know if he wanted to do it himself. It wasn't that he still had some feelings for the cold slut; he just wanted to add some distance between him and any evidence that could implicate him. All he knew was that he also wanted to make that bitch daughter of hers pay as well, little Miss Sydney Prescott, the usurper of his rightful place in the family. Contacting her all-American boyfriend, Billy Loomis seemed like the way to go, even if he laughed in his face, he knew he would damage their relationship irrevocably with the video evidence he had, which would be a start.

He actually got to the point where he looked up Loomis' number before he paused. He had no idea what his reaction would be to the news, he might feel more loyalty to his girlfriend than to some stranger who claimed to be a long-lost sibling of hers, even if they had more in common they he thought. Then it hit him, what better way to punish his mother, who was adamant about staying in the Maureen Prescott identity, than have her death be at the hands of the child she claimed over him! It was brilliant but it needed to be thought out, slowly done. But then again, he was planning on being a director; he naturally had good planning and observational skills…

The first thing he did was arrange an "accidental" meeting with Sydney while she was at the park away from her friends. When he came up to her he could see the light and naiveté in her eyes, the lack of suspicion in her body language even when a stranger came up to her, he knew she had lived a sheltered, charmed life, and he knew without a doubt that she had no idea of what her mother was up to in her free time. It would be all the sweeter to see the light die in her eyes, to taint her world, so much more satisfying than killing her.

He played it cool, when she said that she had never met him. He claimed that he knew that, but after his talk with their mother, he had to meet her. Though she was every inch the ingénue, she still had a strong thread of intelligence.

"Our mother?"

"Well yes, you see, years ago, our mother went to Hollywood to try acting, and along the way, she, well… she ran into some trouble and got pregnant with me. Of course she had to give me up but when I came to find her…" he didn't' have to fake the tears that made his eyes shine here: "she slammed the door in my face, said that I was Rina's, her stage name's, child, and that Rina was dead."

He hid his head in his hands to hide the smile that slithered across his face when he felt her hand on his back. Sympathy was a good sign.

"I'm sure you must be mistaken…" "Roman, Roman Bridger for now…" "Roman, I know my mother, she must just be confused and nervous. I can talk to her if you want," her eyes lit up, "maybe I can arrange a meeting."

He arranged his mouth into a wobbly smile to show his "gratefulness". "Would you? Oh, Sydney, that would be wonderful, it's so nice to finally have a sister." Sydney pulled him into a hug and didn't notice the way his eyes darkened or the sharp smile that was present. He was curious to see how that little talk went…

The next day he came to the same park bench, Sydney said she would meet up with him to explain how things went. He had to hide his smile in his hand when he saw her stomp up, fists clinched, teeth bared. He could feel the rage pouring off of her. This might be easier than he thought. He schooled his expression into a neutral/hopeful one when she reached him. "Did it go well, sis?" Sydney said nothing for a few minutes, sitting away from him on the bench. When she finally looked at him he could see that her eyes weren't the normal light chocolate brown they were the day before. They were shining with tears and almost black. Huh, despite his hatred and indifference to her, it almost felt…nice that they had something in common. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "I brought up the fact that I had met you after dinner and right away she dropped the dishes she was holding. She practically got in my face and screamed at me to tell her what you had told me. I repeated what you had said, that you were my half-brother and that you were born in Hollywood under…less than nice circumstances, and that you had tried to start a relationship with her but she had rebuked you. I tried to say that it must be a big mistake, that she would never turn away one of her own children, but," here he saw tears actually stream down her face "she started cursing you out, the things she said… she said as far as she was concerned, you don't exist." Even though he had expected it, it still was a punch in the gut and it only strengthened his resolve. "I said that I knew what she had been through, and that even though it was bad, that didn't have to mean that we couldn't be a family and…she slapped me. She said I didn't know anything."

Roman's mouth gaped open. He honestly didn't think she would do that. "I'm afraid I lost my temper and" she laughed "I called her an unfeeling bitch and stormed out. I spent the night at my friend's. Roman, I've never seen my mother like that…that side of her; what else don't I know?" At this point Roman sighed, as if he was about to lay down a heavy burden that he was reluctant to share, even though he had been looking forward to it ever since he had thought up his plan. "Sydney, there's something I have to show you. It appears our mother isn't the woman you thought had given you a perfect life. Please…" He held out his hand and he saw the hesitation in her eyes, as if she was afraid of having her world shattering even more. In the end she took it though.

He took Sydney to his hotel room and played the video tapes for her. Like he had figured, she was still too upset about the fight to realize how creepy it was for him to stalk their mother around town. As he showed scene after scene of her sneaking into houses in the afternoon and skulking into pay by the hour motels with guy after guy, he looked over and almost giggled at the look of utter devastation on her face that only seemed to worsen by the minute. He made sure to arrange the tapes so it was obvious that Cotton Weary was her main affair, and not just on days when her father went on business trips. After the show, Sydney rushed to the bathroom. He could hear her throwing up in there and after the toilet flushed he could hear her gasping out "somehow I always knew, the things people would say behind my back, the looks they would give me…I always tried to put it out of my head but…I'm the town joke aren't I?" "Yes and our mother's the town whore."

When he opened the door, he saw her sitting in the corner, her head resting in her knees, her hands pulling at her hair. His eyes widened, he didn't think he would be so successful so quickly. He guessed they really did have a lot in common. "Hey, hey, sis, it'll be okay."

"No it won't! She'll just keep on ruining both of our reputations, making the town hate us. God! How they must think I'm pathetic!" The last word was shrieked and she clutched her hands to head, as if to block out the accusations and jokes she must have heard and dismissed before tonight. He watched silently while she broke down, crying and repeating "why" over and over. It was almost interesting in an academic sense, seeing the loss of innocence in action. Finally, he got his opening. "Please, Roman, what can we do to make her stop? She obviously won't listen to reason and thinks she's done nothing wrong, what can we do to fix the mess she's made?" He lifted up her chin and forced the smile off his face: "It's not what we can do; it's what you can do." "What?" "She said herself that I don't exist according to her and if you cross her again, she might do the same to you, why not make her not exist?" She pulled away from him. "What are you saying?" He sighed, he didn't want to push her or sound too crazy otherwise he would drive her away. "I'm saying, she's not going to stop tramping around town, and it's obvious she's putting her own self- satisfaction above her own children, but we can make her go away. No one would hate us anymore for having her has a mother. They would feel sorry for us. They would be understanding. You, we, wouldn't have to worry about the laughing and glares, and watching her walk out on your father and her family. It would all go away."

Sydney walked out of the bathroom wiping her eyes without glancing at him. He felt a surge of panic that he had pushed too soon and that it had all been ruined. No normal person thought of murder right off the bat. He rushed out and called out to her. "Sydney, wait! I'm just looking out for you, I figured you would want to know and that you would want to take care of it yourself, you're the one who's had to live in this town for 16 years with this…shadow." He knew he was grasping at straws but he really didn't want to try and start over. She paused at the door without turning around. "You're right. I've been in Woodsboro for 16 years and for 5 of those years I've watched that bastard Cotton "doing odd jobs" around the house long after he should have gotten a normal job. When that…slut…looked at me last night, I felt no connection, none whatsoever." She paused and Roman waited for the "but" that would follow. "But, as much as I hate her right now, what you're talking about would lead to very serious consequences, and I don't know how it would even be attempted…" This last phrase had a pleading tone to it and Roman smiled, this was happening. "Sydney, it may interest you to know that I'm a director and if you just think of this as a movie, I'm sure I could help you figure it out."

He waited with bated breath until she silently turned back to face him and closed the door behind her.

Over the next few weeks, he made sure to spend as much time as possible with her, making sure she wasn't having second thoughts but the fight was still fresh in her mind and their mother was apparently giving her the cold shoulder now thankfully. One fresh autumn day he was sure she was ready. He didn't want to set a date; he knew that if he did, she would feel pressured and scared. All he said was that whenever it felt right, if she followed the script her problems would be solved.

He honestly didn't know when it would happen; it almost made him vibrate with anticipation. He finally got the call a week later. He rushed over and almost slipped in the blood that coated the floor. He grabbed the counter and took it all in, relieved that the bitch had gotten her due. It looked like she was…gutted; all her blood was probably on the floor and walls. He searched for Sydney and found her sitting on a living room chair clutching a knife, covered in blood. He almost felt like giving her a high five but one look at her black eyes and he knew to approach her cautiously, like an animal.

"Hey, Syd, did it go okay?" At first she didn't answer him and he worried that she would do something drastic, but then she smiled.

"I walked into the kitchen, that bitch and Cotton were actually kissing, full on tongues and everything. He tried to apologize but she was so…casual about it, as if she hadn't been screwing my dad over for years. I asked her one more time how she could do this, if she felt any remorse for what she had done what she had put me, us, through and you know what she said?" Roman shook his head. "She laughed and said I was too sensitive, it had been nice that I hadn't known but it was a relief that she didn't have to hide anymore. She could be her true self. So…I decided to show her my true self."

Roman finally let a smile break out on his face. "Well done, I knew you could do it. Just one more question, when did you kill Cotton?" Sydney cocked her head and walked back to the kitchen where Cotton's body was, blood seeping from his head. "Oh, about 20 minutes after my mother, he came back…he forgot his jacket, so, just one quick push and, well the counter is quite sharp." She giggled a little bit at that. "Well sis, how are you going to explain this to the police?" "What, you mean the fact that that freak murdered my mother, I came home, saw what he had done and pushed him onto the counter corner as revenge and self-defense?" Roman couldn't help but feel proud at his creation and wrapped his arm around the grinning blood-soaked girl. "Good girl."

Just as he predicted the media lapped up the story hook line and sinker. Even Miss Gail Weathers trying to get a book deal out of the whole affair had a hard time finding a hole in Sydney's story, in the face of her tears and proof of the affair. The only catch he finds is that Loomis boy she still insists on hanging around. He knows almost nothing about him and he doesn't like the fact that they're getting close, closer than a normal high school couple should be. He's worried that Sydney would let something slip unintentionally and he would ruin everything, convince her to go to the cops. He decided for his own good to play his trump card. He mentions that there is one more video that he forgot to show and shows the one thing he was planning on using with Loomis. He watches Sydney's face as he plays her mother and Loomis' father going into a motel room. Her expression barely changes but he sees her eyes darken before she storms out and he leaves satisfied that that threat was neutralized.

A year later on the one year anniversary; when the news stories are fired up again, he wakes up to find himself tied to a chair with duct tape on his mouth and blindfolded. He feels hands pull away the blindfold to find Sydney staring at him, smiling. For the first time he feels a shiver a fear.

"Just like you forgot to tell me something brother dear, I forgot to tell you something too. My mother did tell me that she felt no remorse for her actions but that's not why I killed her. Do you want to know why?" Roman hesitated before deciding his best option was to nod. "Apparently she was planning, when my father got home, to divorce him and run away with Cotton to Hollywood, to give it a second try. When I pointed out that if she was willing to go back then she couldn't use it as an excuse for her actions, she claimed that she didn't need an excuse and she was tired of my judging her and that she never wanted to be a mother, only a chance to be famous, to be in a movie."

Roman froze; that had been a complete surprise. Sydney suddenly thrust her face towards his. "You think I don't know what you were trying to do, showing me that last video; you were trying to split me and Billy up, you didn't want me happy. This was never about sibling love. You just wanted to be a director, you wanted to be in movies just like her, you tried to give me a reason that we shouldn't be together, just. Like. Her. Well, here's something that slipped under your director radar; Billy is good for me, he cares for me and I'm not going to let something he had no control over color my perception of him. You know something else?" This time she was an inch away from his ear and Roman could only frantically shake his head.

"He understands me, don't you dear?"

Roman suddenly felt a second pair of hands on him and hesitantly tilted his head to stare into the face of Billy Loomis. Only he didn't quite look the same as when he had watched him a year ago. His eyes were the same shade of black that Sydney's had been that night and he was grinning; there was no other way to say it, demonically. "He was just as upset as I was about our parents…he was so sad." At this her voice caught and Billy's smile dimmed as they remembered. "But I helped him, like you helped me, only I actually care about him. That's why I let him have first crack at his cheating bastard of a father." She finished proudly with this while Roman sobbed as he remembered the news story six months ago about Hank Loomis being found dead, his neck snapped from a trip down the stairs. "It was very satisfying, thank you so much Roman for bringing us closer together," he reached down and pinched Roman's cheek "emotionally and physically". At that Loomis gave a wolfish grin and Sydney blushed like a schoolgirl like they didn't have someone tied up between them. She then stripped the tape from his mouth and took the knife Loomis offered her with a kiss. She sighed, "Oh dear brother, not many directors set out to make a horror movie and wind up with a romance instead. You must be special."

As she lined up the knife with his stomach, he only asked "why?" She paused and stared at him. "You never cared for me, she never cared for me, and this town would still like to crucify me for my mother's sins…" "I think what my girlfriend means is…" Roman cried out as the steel finally penetrated his stomach in what he knew would be his last moments. "…total abandonment causes serious deviant behavior."

2. She shut me out in the cold forever…her own son

When Roman finds out that he actually has another mother, a biological mother, after his parents die in a car accident, he almost feels like jumping with joy. When Milton tells him about it, trying to make him feel better, like a father figure, he sets out trying to find her.

It's only through extensive research that he actually manages to realize that Rina Reynolds isn't her real name; it's only a stage name. Through searching old employment forms with picture I.D., he actually finds a positive match, once his friend in the DMV finds someone who's similar enough that it must be her even after 25 years. As he makes his way to Woodsboro, he thinks how good it is to have connections, to have somebody like Milton in his life helping him. He had even warned him when he set off that there had been some unpleasantness, sexually speaking her last time in Hollywood, so don't be mad if she's hesitant at first. He knew what Milton was getting at metaphorically but couldn't care, family trumps all, right?

He gets to the address and rings the doorbell with anticipation. When she answers it's all he can do not to throw himself into her arms. "Mom?" She looks at him with hesitance and suspicion.

"Who are you?" "I'm your son, you were in Hollywood as Rina Reynolds and you left me behind. I've been looking for you for ages. Can I come in?" He moves to get past her but is stopped by her hand, that none too gently pushes him back. "I'm sorry, no." He freezes for a moment before he realizes what the problem is. "I'm sorry, I know you must be suspicious but my name is Roman and I'm friends with Milton the Hollywood producer and he directed me to…" "I know who Milton is, and I'm sure you're not lying about being my son but you still can't come in." He felt his heart drop and ice cover his body. "Why- why not?" "Because I left that life behind years ago, it wasn't a happy time and I would be happy never to be Rina Reynolds ever again. This is my life now; I have a husband Neil and one child, Sydney."

He feels himself floundering, numbness freezing his body and his next words sound a hundred miles away. "But, but your my mother, I know it was bad but I'm your child, your son." "No, you are not my son, you are Rina's child and Rina is…dead. Don't come back." She slammed the door in his face and all Roman could do was walk away. He feels rage bubbling up but before it gets far, the still fresh grief of his parents' death causes a depression that extinguishes it before it begins and pushes tears down his face.

Over the next few weeks he puts up a brave face and gives monosyllabic responses to people who ask about the trip. He pushes it aside and works on getting jobs, hoping to put on a good movie for experience. It finally boils over one day when his application gets rejected from the studio for a particular movie with the excuse that he didn't have enough experience, that they didn't need him right then. The normal rejection that he usually felt suddenly collided with his pushed aside pain and before he can stop himself, he's sobbing like a middle-schooler being told that he can't be the lead role in the play. The producers and assistants, not knowing what to do, embarrassingly comfort him and try to ignore his cries of "It's not my fault, I can't help it, please take me in!" They try to get him out as quickly as possible and after he's calmed down, he knows that even with Milton's help he's pretty much torched his chances in this particular studio and maybe in the industry considering how people talk.

He should feel angry, embarrassed, but all he feels is cold numbness, and all he sees is a life stretching out before him of being shut out, unwanted, with no chance to change that…

When Milton comes to Roman's apartment after a week of not seeing him, he starts to say that it wasn't that bad, that there was nothing that he couldn't smooth over but then he sees him hanging from the ceiling, bloated, purple, and soiled, a testament to an unforgiving industry and the toll it takes. He stands there for a couple of minutes thinking about how he had always thought of Roman as his son metaphorically and deep, deep inside, where he pushes that night with Maureen/Rina, biologically and then he calls 911 and cuts him down.

The next time he has a vacation he uses the address he found in Roman's notebook to track down his old desperate starlet and knocks a little harder than is polite. When she comes to the door, he still sees the fresh-faced desperate girl that left swearing hatred and cursing his name when things didn't work out. He knows she sees the decadent director, a relic of more hedonistic, lax times, where men in 1000 dollar suits know they won't get harassed by the cops if something gets out of hand and after finding Roman's body swaying, he's not going to lie and say he doesn't get a little bit of satisfaction when he sees a sliver of fear in her eyes. "What do you want Milton?" "I came to tell you that Roman Bridger is dead." "Do you always contact your old extras when a worker dies?" He knows it's feigned indifference but he still slams his hand in the doorway to stop her from closing it. "He hung himself last week, they said he just took the last rejection from directing too hard, I think it's the rejection, but not from directing. What do you think?" Maureen/Rina looks at him defiantly. "I think some people can't make it in Hollywood." Milton chuckled. "Like mother, like son." "I never wanted that freak for my child, that's not my life and it doesn't matter that he's dead, now leave before I make you!" Even though she hisses out that last part, he knows it's audible enough, especially for the young girl hanging around behind her mother, staring wide-eyed at the harsh words coming from her. Milton doesn't acknowledge her; merely smirks and says "Goodbye Rina." As he leaves his smile fades and the image of his boy swinging from the rafters without hope takes away some of the pleasure at the fact that Miss Prescott/Reynolds has just been knocked down off a very, very high pedestal.

3. She said that I was Rina's child and Rina was dead…and I thought to myself, what a good idea…

When his mother, his own mother shuts the door in his face he feels white noise rushing up so he can't hear anything. His rage is so all consuming he seriously considers taking a tree branch and taking it out on his car, their house. He lets his mind bring him visions of smashing windows in the house, smashing the possessions of that bitch of a daughter that would dare to take his place, smashing her home, her new life, smashing…her.

He opens his eyes and realizes he likes that idea.

He takes some time to get used to the idea but something inside of him has…snapped and the voice that normally tells people to think things over, that it's crazy, that it's wrong, seems to have been silenced forever and the more he thinks about it the more he anticipates actually doing it. When he's finally calm enough to drive back to his hotel room, the first thing he does is write down all the mistakes he's seen in crime dramas over the years to make sure he avoids them:

-Have a good reason for the murder, if they have to ask why she was killed they will dig deeper and they willfind you

-Don't be so arrogant as to taunt the cops with possible locations or future victims, it will be fun but eventually they will figure it out in time and it will not be pretty

-Be meticulous with possible evidence, clean up and don't take the time to write messages, it will just give the cops more ammo

-Be quick and leave no witnesses, if the area is in a crowded town, move her

He checked over his list and he realized how easy this was going to be. A simple theft of her jewelry would show a burglary gone wrong and her house was practically in the middle of nowhere alone on a country road near the woods. It's like it's made to be the setting of a horror movie. At this thought he finally does break out into giggles, and lets the unpleasant sound echo around him.

When he first figures out how he's going to do it, he entertains the idea of enlisting a partner, someone who can possibly take the blame if it goes wrong and can help with ideas, but he banishes it. While it would be easier, it would also add unnecessary layers to his plan, too many variables, besides, it's something he wants to do himself.

For the next week, he stays out of sight. In a small town, strangers stick out like a sore thumb, except when they keep to themselves, and then they are practically invisible. The last night is spent parked outside their house on a path in the woods. He can feel himself vibrating with the sheer excitement of it, the shine of the steel knife almost blinding him. The next day, when he's sure it's only her in the house he rings the doorbell.

When she opens the door she barely has time to shriek out: "I thought I told you to l-" before he punches her in the face. Just like that the fight went out of her. He had wanted to end her there but he felt so stupid doing it while she's curled up crying about her nose. Thankfully she gets up and starts running away giving him the opening to grab her hair and bash her face into the doorway. He doesn't hesitate a second time and as she drops he's on her swinging the knife into her over and over and over. As blood sprays over him, it sends him into even more of a frenzy. He finally cuts her yelling to a choked wet moan by stabbing her in the throat.

He sits back and admires his handiwork for a moment, the white noise quieted down to a dull roar, blood rushing in his ears. It's over, the bitch is finished. It takes an effort to pull himself up and rummage through her jewelry box, trying to focus on the plan after that…release. He puts some silly bracelets and earrings into his pockets randomly until he comes across a locket. Out of curiosity he opens it and it holds two pictures. One's her and he assumes her husband and on the other side is a picture of a young brown-haired girl with light brown eyes. He knows instantly that this is Sydney and that his mother has kept this close to her, so devoted to this new family that he would never be a part of. Unfortunately, as the implications of her telling the truth about not wanting him hit him, he hears a feminine voice call out: "Mom, I'm home!" He feels the white noisy rage creep up on him again but waits until he hears the screams and cries of the teenage girl before he runs down smiling all the way.

When he gets down there he sees her, Miss Sydney Prescott, on her knees in front of her mother's eviscerated corpse, crying her eyes out. She looks so helpless and scared, and he feels so glad that she feels an ounce of what he felt when he was rejected. He doesn't think that she moved from her spot but even if she called 911 he'll be long gone after he finishes.

Maybe in another life, given another chance to fight, to prepare, she would have had a chance. Experienced in horror and pain, a veteran "actress", she could be nigh undefeatable. But right now, she's barely the ingénue, a walk-on, and all he does is sneak up behind her, grab her head and slice her neck open. He knows that it's finished; he could even turn his back on her.

For the next 20 minutes, he lets himself cool down, the bodies of his family intertwined on the rug, blood mixing. He waits and waits for the voice that's supposed to stop him to come back, but it's silent. He lets a smile form on his face as he realizes his transformation, and it really is one, has opened up so many avenues for him, so many victims for his blade if he decided. He stands up and takes one last glance at their bodies and suddenly has a vision of Milton, the bastard who started the whole thing, writhing in agony, his lifeless, mutilated, corpse. He feels the white noise rise up again as he remembers his smug assurances that he had done nothing wrong so he doesn't hear the car pull up.

He doesn't hear Billy Loomis open up the door looking for his girlfriend. He doesn't hear his broken cry of her name or see out of the corner of his eye Loomis pick up the heavy fireplace poker behind him. The first thing he notices is the crunch of his skull as the poker hits him and the thick blood dripping down his neck. As he drops he realizes he should be mad but he's oddly grateful as the white noise fades to black.

4. She never recovered from that night, right here in this room…they fucked her three ways from Sunday, ruined her life.

When his mother closes the door on his face, he tries one last time to get her to explain why she doesn't want to be with him. He sees the frustration in her face, the angry tears in her eyes. But he's getting ready to cry too. He'd thought about putting up a brave face but he can't, not in the face of utter cold rejection. Maybe the sight of his tears as he calls, "Mom, please," lowers her defenses. She doesn't let go of the door but she lowers her eyes and sighs. "You want to know why you don't have a place in my life." All he can do is nod. "Because you will always be a reminder of that horrible night in John Milton's house, the night I have to push down just to function normally."

"But mom, I know it was unpleasant for you, John told me that things got out of hand…" She laughed. "Got out of hand? Is that what he told you? I knew when he went to that party that the men there wanted to look at me, touch me, and grab me. I knew I was a piece of meat but I just wanted in the door." Her pleading tone made him squirm. He really didn't want to think about his mother like that. "But I thought I was going to be a model, safe from them. Until it was only me and three other girls with nine men in the room after the other party goers left. The things they expected me to do. I tried to rationalize, I tried to "lie back and think of England" but it's a little hard when three guys want you at once and that bastard Milton is standing over the whole proceedings like fucking Caligula. I had only had a couple experiences before then. It was hard, it was messy and brutal," here she leaned in "and I liked it, at the end I felt like the lowest woman in the world but I liked how they made me feel." Roman's mouth dropped.

"Guys don't know what that feeling's like. I tried to get a normal family after but I know deep down inside I am a slut, and after that night, I…need more than what my dear husband can provide." Tears streamed down her face. "I hate it! But I know I can't stop, I know I'm broken and seeing you here as a physical reminder of that night will only make it worse. With you here, I can't pretend that it's a choice made because I just like it, that there's nothing wrong with me. I would have to remember that I was forced to like it, for the rest of my life and I can't do that…I'm sorry." The last two words were said reluctantly and she shut the door for the final time. All Roman could think was those bastards.

When he gets back to Hollywood, he tears Milton a new one and shoots down all of his defenses. He feels the rage bubbling up but when he mentions that his mother said she likes what she does with other men now he feels a new emotion rise up in him when Milton merely says "Well, if she likes it, then no harm no foul." His face drained and Roman merely said "Huh" before giggling a little and walking out the door.

The next night he goes to Milton's office and mentions how sorry he is at blowing up at him. He shouldn't have yelled. "What I should have done, was this…" He grabs Milton, and throws him through the window. He waits for the splash and is not surprised to see red below; John Milton, always king of the mountain, well not anymore.

He feels better but he knows that there were more men. He doesn't know who but he knows they have to be punished. When Milton's death becomes public he contacts each of his friends, leaving out the ones that absolutely were too young to have been there that night, for a little party in his honor. He gives them each a glass of wine with just enough arsenic in it, quick, easy, and not as messy. It's only when half of the group realizes there's something wrong with the drinks when the other half dies frothing at the mouth and tries to run that he realizes something; he doesn't want it quick and clean.

When he comes back to himself, a gun in his hand (one from Milton's collection) blood coating the walls, he doesn't feel better. He knows these men are dead but what if they weren't the right ones? If they aren't the right ones, then his head will never stop pounding with the knowledge, he will never get his mother's voice out of his head explaining that she was broken and they could never be together. A surge of horror hits him when he realizes how many men could have been at the party, he doesn't have any faces to connect them. It could be anyone. The kindly producer that gave him his first break, the retired millionaires that still come on set to check out the new meat, they all could have done it.

At this idea, the whispering gets louder, his mother's and Milton's voices merging into one: I liked it/no harm no foul/no harm no foul/I know I'm broken/I can't pretend/not my fault. It's too much. He drops the handgun and ransacks Milton's collection of guns, never used except to pander to the redneck millionaires he wants to invest in his movies. Thankfully he has what he's looking for.

An hour later, the first victim is claimed, a 50 year old janitor sweeping up a lot. A whizzing sound is all he hears before blood coats his chest. It takes another two victims before people notice a dark figure in one of the higher buildings, a long range file cocked and ready. Panic quickly sweeps the streets and people try to hide. The figure is having none of it and is getting people through bushes and windows. If anyone could have seen him, they would have shuddered at the black indifference in his eyes, more present than the rage that insisted that if he got them, then the headache and pain would stop.

By the time the police get to the building Roman has stopped aiming just for older men and has started shooting at women too, his rage at his mother's weakness and desire to give in propelling him, anything to get them to shut. Up.

He's finally stopped by the new guy on the force, his black rage making him deaf to the quiet footsteps and the door opening and he only barely feels the bullet hit the back of his head before he drops.

As the medics prep his body for the ambulance, the new guy, fresh from a transfer, barely hears the congratulations of his fellow officers. "Nice job Kincaid, that bastard didn't know what hit him." "I think you'll do just fine Marky." He smiles at each one and even tries his hand at gallows humor: "I've heard of being disappointed in not getting the part you wanted but this is ridiculous." He turns away though, as they zip up the body bag, wondering how long it will be before the killer's face, tears still drying on it, stops haunting him.

5. "I can make it happen…name your budget…script approval…final cut!" "I already have it!"

When Roman first finds out that he has an actual biological mother after his parents die in a car accident, he feels happy but also cautious. There's a reason she didn't raise him, why he had to be adopted. He wants to go into the situation cautiously. After the horrible car crash he doesn't know if he can take any more parents leaving him.

He wants to meet her face to face, he wants to see how many features they have in common but, John did mention that there had been some sexual…unpleasantness that had made her leave Hollywood. He's aware of what that could mean and even though family should trump all, life isn't like a family movie. When he's finally researched who she is through his connections, apparently she's calling herself Maureen Prescott now, nee Roberts. Instead of driving or flying to Woodsboro he calls her first.

He doesn't know what would have happened if she had had to look at his face, the knowledge that she had had to give birth to him after the…unpleasantness but when he mentions over the phone that a John Milton had directed him to her with the name "Rina Reynolds" he swears he hears a sob over the phone. "That bastard," is what he's sure she's whispering. He tries to comfort her but there's nothing he can say. He starts to ask if he can see her but she shouts "No! I already have a child, her name is Sydney, and I have a normal life now, well…almost normal." He doesn't understand the self-deprecating laughter that follows, but doesn't care. All he cares about is that apparently his mother doesn't want him. "You're saying you don't want me?" "I'm saying that you and Hollywood are in the past, the circumstances were bad, way too bad for me to ever go back. I'm sorry…" here she paused reluctantly, "son, but I can't be your mother."

Roman hangs up the phone and feels his world crumbling but, h doesn't blame his mother. She had called him son but something or someone was stopping them from having a real connection. He decided to go back to Milton and see exactly how bad it had been.

"You bastard!" Before he could stop himself Roman saw himself throwing a vase, the shattering sound it made was oddly satisfying. Milton was trying to placate him but really, how do you defend a gang rape?! "It's not as bad as you think Roman, things just got out of hand, Maureen knew what she was getting into, trust me." "She knew… she knew what she was getting into? I highly doubt that you prick! It's your fault I can't have a family, you know that right?"

Milton sighed. "Roman," "Don't touch me!" Milton drew his hand back. "Roman, haven't I given you everything? You've had an advantage that not too many people have, choices and leeway that I wouldn't dream giving to people as inexperienced as you." Roman laughed and tried to ignore the hysterical tone to his voice. "Yeah, it's been great, I wonder how much I would have gotten if I had sucked your cock."

Roman turns around, his hands on his head, and so he doesn't notice Milton's smile vanish or the cold, calculating look in his eyes. "So, you're really not going to let this go?" "It's not about 'letting it go', my mother was ruined! So is my future!" Milton actually scoffed. "Don't be so dramatic. Trust me, there's always a way to spin this. You could use the whole orphan thing as your 'mystique'. It might help you get work. Besides" and finally Roman could see who Milton really was as a frown appeared, "there's nothing Maureen or you could do about what happened, not after all this time." "Yeah I know there's a statute of limitations of rape." Roman was glad to see Milton flinch a little. "You still need to be punished, as well as those other men. If you won't come forward or at least apologize then maybe I'll talk to someone in authority who can convince you, or maybe I can make the public aware of what you are!" He turns around to walk away but pauses at Milton's sigh. "Roman, we're not bad people, we were young, and we were rich with wealth, drugs, and women. It went to our heads but it was just a game, just like the rest of Hollywood. But the thing is," and Roman hears a quiet sound as his drawer is slid open, "in Hollywood, you have to play the game…or you go home."

In the second between the click of the gun and the impact of the bullet in his skull the only thought that Roman can come up with is: should have slit the bastard's throat.