WHY'S YOUR FACE SO CLOSE TO THE CAMERA STILL?

☆︎ FEBRUARY 4TH, 2000 ☆︎

Mark was driving through the studio lot, going a little too fast for comfort for those walking around the set — which wasn't very fast at all, but still, he was a police officer.

"Slow it down!" a man shouted as they passed.

"Sorry!" Mark yelled back, cringing a little. But Dewey had already parked his car, and Mark didn't want them walking around the set without one of them following them.

"Watch the fuckin' aliens," Wallace said, wincing as two actors in costumes raced in front of the car.

Finally, the undercover cruiser came to a stop, and Mark looked at his partner. "I'm gonna go talk to the studio brass about those photos."

Wallace rolled his eyes and gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, right. I know where you're goin'."

Mark just scoffed. "Yeah, keep an eye on Indiana and Sidney."

"I know where you're goin'," he said again, sounding more amused than annoyed. "You're gonna get her some flowers and candy, huh? Huh?"

"Gimme a break," he mumbled.

"Mark," Wallace said, shaking his head. After Isaiah's death and seeing Indiana's genuine reaction to the loss, he no longer suspected she was working with the other killer. "Ignoring the fact that there's gonna be a big meeting with HR at the end of this, it's just not a good idea."

"I know it's not," Mark said, keeping his voice down since the window was rolled down. "But I can't help it. She's... fuck, I'm falling for her. I have been since June."

"Yeah, I know. I was there to greet you all those mornings after when you came into work," he grumbled. But then he shook his head. "Her friend just died, though. You're gonna be the last thing on her mind."

"I know," he said softly, looking through the windshield, watching Indiana as she got out of the car, pushing and shoving Jackson as they both tried to fit through the door. "But I'll be here when she's ready. She's the kind of person worth waiting for."

"Well, good luck with that one," Wallace said with a sigh. Then he got out of the car. "And gimme a call."

"Yeah, just keep your eye on her," he told him before driving off. And as he passed, Indiana, who was now hanging off Jackson's back, met his eye through the window of his car, an unreadable emotion on her face.

"I thought Detective Dreamy was coming with us," Randy commented, also watching him go.

Indiana narrowed her eyes at him. "How'd you even hear about that name? Luca isn't even here."

"Jax told me about it when he called to talk about Cotton's death the other day."

Jackson, who was giving Indiana a piggyback ride, regretted being so close as she pinched his arm, making him squirm. "Hey, it is my god-given right as your brother to tease you about your love life."

"Right, well, let me just call Martha up real quick," she mumbled, making him huff.

"God, please don't talk about that around me," Randy said, pretending to gag.

Sidney sighed and grabbed Randy's hand. "They're inevitable, Randy. Just embrace it so that you're prepared when it happens."

He rolled his eyes childishly while intertwining their fingers. "No, I think I'd prefer to fight it tooth and nail."

At his stubbornness, Indiana and Sidney shared an amused look and rolled their eyes in sync. Then Dewey and Gale came over to the group.

"That stairwell over there, that's where one of the pictures was taken," Dewey pointed out, looking over at some stairs as a security guard was walking down them.

"God," she mumbled, her mood dampening. "I can't believe she never mentioned any of this."

"She probably just—"

Whatever comforting thing he was about to say was cut off by someone shouting his name loudly, bursting out of the trailer behind them. "Dewey!"

Sidney and Gale screamed while Jackson whirled around so fast that Indiana fell off him, hitting her ass hard on the concrete. And the cause of the fuss was the very girl they'd been talking about — Martha Meeks. Sophia was also behind her but she was wise enough not to startle all of them.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"Martha?" Jackson said, not expecting to see her there. 

"Martha?" Randy asked, his eyes wide. Last he knew, she was back at their house with their parents in Woodsboro.

Before any more could be said, Wallace ran over with lot security, weapons aimed at the younger girl. "Hey, hold it right there! Hey!"

Martha put her hands up in alarm. "Don't shoot! I'm only eighteen!"

"Eighteen-year-olds can kill people," Indiana said matter-of-factly, not helping the situation at all as she remained on the ground. Billy was eighteen, Stu was seventeen, and she, herself, had been a freshly turned sixteen-year-old when she took her first life.

"It's okay," Dewey said quickly. "We know her."

"We do?" Gale asked, the only one to not recognize her as the guards and detective walked off, though still keeping a careful eye on the group. Dewey moved to hug Martha first, the quickest to get over her sudden arrival. "Tell me that's his ex-girlfriend, I'll shoot myself. Virginia's too perfect as is."

Having overheard her, Sophia let out a snort while Sidney answered her. "It's Martha Meeks, Randy's sister."

"Randy's sister?" she asked, looking at the older sibling with wide eyes.

"Yeah, can't you tell?" Dewey questioned, looking between the sibling.

"Martha, what the fuck are you doing here?" Randy asked, raising his voice a little. "How'd you get here? You don't have a car!"

"Took a cab," she said, standing a little taller. "A very expensive cab. Went to the hospital to see Luca and Virginia first. Then we came here."

"Martha, what are you doing here on set?" Jackson asked again, a worried frown on his face. "It's not safe."

"I know but I found something that I thought you guys should see," she told them. Then Martha held up a videotape, and Randy groaned, recognizing his handwriting on the label.

"You did not come all the fucking way here to show that," he muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Martha grinned teasingly. "Oh, I most certainly did."

Randy complained and griped the whole time as the group filed into the trailer to watch whatever was on the tape. Martha put it into the TV that was hanging on the wall and rewound it, a sign that she'd already watched it once before.

Then she sat on the couch next to Jackson, who had his arm thrown over the back of the couch. Randy and Sidney were sitting next to each other, but Indiana easily pushed the lanky boy to the side so that she could be next to Sidney. He scoffed and moved to Sid's other side. But before he could reach for her hand or show any kind of affection, Sidney and Indiana got wrapped up in each other, intertwining their legs and leaning their heads against each other.

"I'm right here," he whined.

Indiana raised an uncaring eyebrow. "Fucking and?"

"Yeah," Sidney said, matching her expression playfully. "Fucking and?"

Randy squinted at Indiana, who grinned smugly before Sid leaned over to peck her lips.

"Ooh, Mark better be jealous," Sophia said while sitting in between Dewey and Randy. She leaned her head on Dewey's shoulder, wanting to be close to him while mourning Isaiah.

Indiana rolled her eyes and ignored her while looking at the TV as the video started. And all of them were surprised to see Randy's face appear on screen, incredibly close to the camera.

"What the fuck is this?" Sophia asked, looking at the in-person Randy.

The boy just put his head in his hands, feeling embarrassed.

"Told ya I'd make a movie someday. Huh?" the Randy on the screen said.

"Oh, my God," Sidney said, curling her lips around her teeth to keep from grinning.

"Well, if you're watching this tape, it means, as I feared, I did not survive these killings here at Windsor College—"

"Get fucked, Nancy!" Indiana shouted at the screen. Randy nodded while Sophia flipped that dead woman off.

"—and that giving up my virginity to Karen Kolchakat the video store was probably not a good idea."

"Karen Kolchak?" Dewey questioned.

"Yes, Karen Kolchak."

"Yes, Karen Kolchak."

Everyone laughed as both Randy's responded. Sidney shook her head in embarrassment.

"Creepy Karen?" Sophia asked,

"Shut up!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Indiana, Jackson, and Sophia all snickered as Randy repeated himself, getting annoyed with them. Sidney just smiled and shook her head.

"She's a sweet person, okay?" the video went on. "We were workin' late. We were puttin' away some videos in the porno section and, you know, shit happens."

Then someone knocked on the door in the video. "Open the door, Randy!"

"Fifteen minutes."

"It's my room too!" he whined.

"Paul, fifteen minutes! I'm leaving my legacy."

When Paul continued to bang on the door, Randy got up and shouted through the walls. "Fifteen minutes, Paul! Damn!"

"Can you believe he's gonna be a freaking neurosurgeon with patience like that?" the real-life Randy complained.

Then once Paul was gone, Randy got up close to the camera again, his face taking up the whole screen. "Anyway, the reason I'm here is to help you so that my death will not be in vain — that my life's work will help save some other poor soul from getting mutilated. If this killer does come back and he's for real, there are a few things that you gotta remember."

"Look, I can just tell you all this in person—"

"No way are we turning this off, dude," Jackson said, chuckling.

"Is this simply another sequel? Well, if it is, same rules apply. But here's the critical thing. If you find yourself dealing with an unexpected back-story and a preponderance of exposition, then the sequel rules do not apply. Because you're not dealing with the sequel. You are dealing with the concluding chapter of a trilogy."

"Why's your face so close to the camera still?" Sophia asked.

"Shut up," he muttered.

"Trilogy?" Dewey questioned.

"That's right," the Randy from the past said, somehow predicting what they'd be saying. "It's a rarity in the horror field but it does exist, and it is a force to be reckoned with. Because true trilogies are all about going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn't true from the get-go. Godfather, Jedi, all revealed something that we thought was true that wasn't true. So if it is a trilogy you are dealing with, here are some super trilogy rules."

"Randy," Indiana spoke up. "I appreciate the effort, but Soph and I could've covered this if you really did die—"

"Let me have my moment!" he snapped. She put her hands up in defense before wrapping them around Sidney again.

"One: You've got a killer who's gonna be superhuman. Stabbing him won't work. Shooting him won't work. Basically, in the third one, you've gotta cryogenically freeze his head, decapitate him, or blow him up."

"Yeah, Indy hit him last night," Gale recalled. "Didn't slow him down."

Indiana bit the inside of her cheek hard, knowing that the killer escaped and went after Isaiah all because she couldn't properly kill him. She should've chased him down and made sure he was dead.

"Number two: Anyone, including the main character, can die. This means you, Sid, Indy."

But not just those two, they all knew. Where was this video twelve hours ago?

"I'm sorry. It's the final chapter," Randy on the screen continued. "It could be fucking Reservoir Dogs by the time this thing is through. Number three: The past will come back to bite you in the ass. Whatever you think you know about the past, forget it. The past is not at rest! Any sins you think were committed in the past are about to break out and destroy you."

Indiana couldn't help but think about Mickey. How could she not after hearing his voice and seeing the script that had him coming back to life?

"So in closing, let me say good luck, godspeed, and for some of you, I'll see you soon. 'Cause the rules say some of you ain't gonna make it. I didn't. Not if you're watching this tape."

The tape cut off and static filled the screen.

"You should be really embarrassed for making that," Sophia commented, breaking the silence. "Just as embarrassed as Nancy for not killing you properly."

Sidney nodded and then shoved Randy. "And can you imagine how much that would upset us to watch if you had died?"

"Well, all my points still stand," he grumbled. "We're all fair game — not just Sid, who is clearly the target."

"Another reason why you should leave," Indiana said, looking pointedly at her.

Sidney shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You, on the other hand," Randy said, turning to look at his little sister. "Get your scrawny ass back to Woodsboro pronto!"

"But I can help," she insisted.

"No, Randy is right," Jackson said, shaking his head. "Martha, it's not safe. Okay, and you've never been through something like this. I'll put you in a cab myself if I have to."

Martha huffed and sank further into the couch. But the pout on her face did nothing to sway Randy or Jackson.

"We appreciate you coming," Jackson told her in a softer tone, squeezing her hand. "But we can't have another person to worry about, so please, don't fight us on this."

"Fine," she sighed, leaning her head on his arm.

"Thank you for bringing it, though," Sophia told her. "Laughing at Randy always makes me feel better."

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled.

"Seriously though," Indy chimed in. "You're like a prophet or something, figuring out how we'd react."

"That's because I'm a genius," he claimed.

"Well, if you're such a genius, try not to almost die this time," Martha requested.

"That's probably a tall order for Target Practice," Indiana joked halfheartedly. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

The group all filed out of the trailer, beginning to say their goodbyes to Martha. Jackson was going to walk with her to make sure she got safely off the set and into a taxi to bring her back to Woodsboro.

"Thank you even though your brother was already here to warn us," Sidney said to Martha while hugging her. "And you be careful."

"Say hi to your folks for me," Dewey added.

"You be careful too, you guys," Martha said, looking between them all with concern. She didn't want to add any more losses to Isaiah's. "All of you come visit Woodsboro soon, okay?"

Sophia leaned over and whispered to Gale. "She's not talking to you." Gale just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"I will, Martha," Dewey promised, giving her a side hug. "Thank you."

"Burn that tape," Randy instructed, embarrassed by its existence.

"No chance," Martha said, grinning at him.

"Bye, Marty," Sophia said, giving her a nod. "Thanks for coming to check on us."

"Alright," Jackson said, putting an arm around Martha. "Let's go get you a very expensive ride home."

"Well, you have the number one indie rock album in the country, so I think you can afford it."

Jackson walked her toward the exit of the studio. And it put a smile on Sophia and Indiana's faces as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head after saying something they couldn't hear.

Then Gale was turning to face the group, a familiar curious look in her eyes. "I've got an idea. I'll hook up with you guys later," she said before turning to leave.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Dewey asked her with a frown.

"I work better alone," she denied. "Why don't you try to figure out where those other pictures were taken?"

"I can see nothing's changed," Sidney muttered as Gale walked off.

"No," Dewey said with a sigh.

Then Sophia and Randy shared a look, raising a matching eyebrow. Then they nodded in sync.

"We're going with her," Sophia informed them.

"I don't think she wants you to," Dewey told them.

"Like we care," Randy scoffed.

"One, never be alone. Even people we hate," Sophia told him. "Second, if she doesn't have a witness with her, she can lie about all kinds of shit in her next book."

"Have fun," Indiana told them. "And please be safe."

"Scouts honor," Randy said, putting three fingers up. Then he quickly kissed Sidney goodbye, ignoring the childish 'ooh's Indiana and Sophia let out. "I'll see you in a little bit."

"Don't get stabbed," Sidney requested, squeezing his hand.

He winked at her while walking backward in step with Sophia. "Don't intend to."

Sophia and Randy caught up to Gale just as she pulled on the door to the archival building, which was locked. When it didn't budge, she knocked on the window and tried to peer through the blinds.

"It needs a swipe card," Sophia pointed out as if Gale was stupid. She did think Gale was stupid.

Gale looked at them over her shoulder and groaned. "Go away."

"No," Randy said, not saying anymore.

"But we all hate each other," she reminded them.

"Yes, but we don't want you dead," Sophia said. Losing Isaiah must've made her a little more empathetic than normal. She fucking hated it. "So shut up and let us follow you."

"Fine," she huffed, ignoring how comforted she felt by their presence. "But stay close and keep quiet."

"Keep quiet where?" Randy asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're locked out."

At that, Gale faced the locked door once again, trying to figure out what to do. Then she began digging in her purse, seeing if she had anything that might help break in. However, she was stopped by someone tapping her rapidly on her shoulder, making her shriek.

Sophia covered her ears as Gale whirled around and saw Jennifer. "It's the middle of the day and people are everywhere. She's not the killer."

"Um, I was attacked in the middle of the day with people around," Randy reminded her as if she wasn't there for it. As if she didn't save his life.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gale asked while calming down.

"Being Gale Weathers," she replied with a bit of attitude. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I am Gale Weathers," she shot back.

Sophia and Randy both snickered, thinking that things got much more entertaining with her arrival.

"Here's how I see it," Jennifer said. "I've got no house, no bodyguard, no movie, and I'm being stalked. Because someone wants to kill me? No, because someone wants to kill you. So now, starting now, I go where you go. That way, if someone wants to kill me, I'll be with you. And since they really want to kill you, they won't kill me, they'll kill you. Make sense?"

"None," Gale sighed.

But Randy was looking up and repeating the monologue in his head. "No, that tracks, I think."

"You know, in the movies, I play you as being much smarter," Jennifer told the reporter in a smug tone.

"And as a sane person. For you, that must be quite a stretch," Gale shot back.

"That's funny," she said, not laughing.

"Ha!"

"It kind of is amusing," Sophia whispered to Randy. "But I'm getting bored."

"Need to get in that building?" Jennifer then asked, looking at the archival building.

"Yeah," Gale begrudgingly admitted. She hated admitting she needed help, especially to someone like Jennifer.

"Is there a story in that building?"

"Maybe," she mumbled.

Jennifer then whipped out her access card for all the buildings on the studio lot. "Gale Weathers would find a way."

"Bitch," Gale whispered as Jennifer moved her to the side to swipe her card. The lock clicked, and the actor moved to open the door. But Gale insisted on being first to enter and pushed her way to the front. "All right, wait. Just—"

"Don't tell me what to do," Jennifer complained, following Gale into the building. Sophia and Randy just shared a look before following after them, neither arguing about the order they entered.

Inside, nearly all the lights were turned off. Which made the set of stairs they had to walk down seem quite menacing given the horror movie-esque situation they were living through for the third time in a row. And Jennifer was the least excited about the conditions.

"Basements, wow. Basements creep me out," she said, sounding quite nervous.

"You'd make a fascinating interview," Gale said sarcastically.

"More interesting with that phone interview Zay and Luca gave you after we got the Grammy," Sophia said with a sad smile on her face.

Gale tried to reach out to all of them to secure the coveted interview, and Isaiah was the only one polite enough to answer her calls. But any time he'd try to give an answer, Luca would cut him off and shut him off. So it was a boring interview with silence as most of the answers. Despite that, Gale still published the laughable content.

"I'm sorry about him," Gale said, giving her a soft look.

"Don't," she said, shaking her head. Sophia couldn't talk about it yet. It was worse than Tatum, and she'd never thought anything could feel worse than that.

Randy pulled her underneath his arm, letting her lean against him as they walked deeper into the basement. There was a chain link fence separating them from the archives and no one was in sight.

"Hello?" Gale called, trying to spot anyone through it.

"A light is on up there," Randy said, nodding further down the hallway.

The four went that way and then rounded a corner, finally finding a person sitting at a desk that could help them. Gale was too busy looking in her purse to dig out the picture of Maureen, but Randy and Sophia stopped short. The pair began hitting each other, unable to believe who was in front of them.

"Hi. Excuse me. I am Gale Weathers and I'm here researching with the police," she said, unfolding the image and putting it on the desk. "This photo, it was taken at the studio. Her name is Maureen Prescott. Back then it was probably Roberts."

"Holy shit," Randy whispered. "Oh, my god. You're fucking Carrie—"

"No," the woman who wasn't Carrie Fisher, evidently, said in a flat tone, her narrowed eyes on the boy.

"Are you sure?" Sophia asked, not believing it for a second.

She looked at her in disbelief. "Am I sure who I fucking am?"

"Testy," Randy muttered.

"But you look just—"

"Like her?" she cut Jennifer off. There was literally a picture of Carrie Fisher on the wall next to her desk — or maybe it wasn't. They couldn't tell. "I've been hearing it all my life."

"It's uncanny," Jennifer mumbled.

"I was up for Princess Leia," the woman informed them while pulling out a cigarette. "I was this close. So, who gets it? The one who sleeps with George Lucas."

"Amazing," Randy whispered, feeling like he was learning a forbidden film secret.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a - a sore subject for you," Gale said, feeling a little awkward now.

"Sure, you didn't. None of them did," she muttered. "So, how can I help you? Or do you want me to tell you who you look like?"

"I've been told I resemble a cousin of Seth Gree—"

Gale cut Randy off, not needing him to get them off track even more. "How about some information on Maureen Roberts?"

The woman just smirked at them. "I don't work for the cops, sweetie. I work for the studio."

"Really? Well, would you work for the president?" she asked before sliding a fifty-dollar bill forward on the desk.

The employee wasn't impressed as she slowly slid the money back. "The president of the studio."

When Gale didn't immediately snatch her money back, Sophia took it for her, shoving the money in her pocket and ignoring the scoff Gale let out.

"Fifty dollars? Who are you? A reporter for Woodsboro High?" Jennifer asked in a mocking tone. Then she made a point of removing the gold diamond ring that was on her finger before slamming it on the desk. "It's worth two grand. Are you gonna help Gale Weathers or not?"

Before they knew it, Not-Carrie-Fisher was letting them into the archives with a shiny new ring on her finger.

"That was kinda badass," Sophia muttered to Randy who nodded in agreement. They were hanging back since the rows of file cabinets were pretty closely packed.

"Do you think she'd let me take a picture with her and tell people I met the real thing?" Randy then asked, not taking his eyes off the woman.

"She seems kinda mean, so no. And I love that about her."

The woman seemed to know right where she needed to go as she began thumbing through a file cabinet, looking for something in particular.

"I know every face in here," she told them. "I got a respect for the unknown actor. If they're looking for Maureen Roberts, they're never gonna find her — Rina Reynolds, they will."

Then she handed over a folder, which Gale opened to see a headshot of Maureen Prescott when she was younger. Randy and Sophia crowded a little closer to get a look.

"Rina Reynolds. Stage name," Jennifer identified with a little smile.

"You should talk, Judy Jurgenstern," the woman said in a flat tone.

As Jennifer scoffed and rolled her eyes, Gale just laughed. And Sophia squinted at her.

"Yeah, 'cause Weathers is really your last name," she said, shaking her head.

Gale ignored her and flipped over the headshot to read the resume printed on the back. She skimmed the unfamiliar information. "What are these movies? Amazombies, Space Psycho, Creatures from the San Andreas Fault?"

"Shitty horror films," Randy told her. Then his frown deepened, thinking back on the movies he'd only watched once to simply say he saw them so he could continue to be a horror expert. "Holy shit! I mean, she had small roles, but yeah, she's in them. How did I not recognize her?"

"The kid is right," the woman said, nodding to him. "Most people have forgotten about them since it was back in Milton's heyday."

Sophia, Jennifer, and Gale all spoke at the same time, not expecting to hear the producer's name. "Back in what?"

"John Milton. The horror producer? Those were his movies," she clarified.

"He told the police he had no clue who she was when they showed him her picture," Sophia said, narrowing her eyes at the headshot of Sidney's mother. "I knew he was a fucking ass."

"We have to find the others," Gale said while handing the file back. "Thank you so much for this."

"Real quick," Randy said, nudging Gale and Jennifer to the side. "Do you think I could snag a—"

"Absolutely fucking not, kid."

"Alright. I suppose that's fair."