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eppysboys · 1 month ago

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Interview with Nancy Lee Andrews, March 2008 for 'Daytrippin'.

Daytrippin’: Let’s start from the beginning. When did you first meet Ringo Starr?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I met Ringo on a Monday afternoon in May 27, 1974. John had rented actor Peter Lawford’s infamous Santa Monica beach home where he and May Pang hosted many get-togethers. Girlfriends and wives were cooking in the kitchen and kids were swimming in the pool. It was a family get-together, rock ‘n’ roll style. A seat was offered to me at the poker table and I found myself next to Ringo. He was so charming, playful, witty and cute as hell. He might have had sad eyes, but they were twinkling at me that day.

Two months later, I got a call from May, who announced she and John were back in town. They shuttled back and forth between New York and Los Angeles so I kept their funky ’68 Barracuda in my garage. She asked me to bring the car to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and we would hang out and have some dinner. I knocked on the door to the suite expecting to see John or May, but Ringo answered instead. It took me by surprise and I said, “Oh, hello.” Ringo smiled and said, “I remember you… you’re my poker partner!”

After we exchanged flirtatious pleasantries, we headed down to Sunset Sound Studios where Ringo was working on Goodnight Vienna. John, May and I spent hours encouraging Ringo as he laid down vocals. When he finished we ventured to The Fiddler, a favorite Sunset Strip hangout that stayed open late and served delicious fried fish and chips. It had an old Wurlitzer jukebox. The two boys drank, dropped quarters in the jukebox, singing and discussing women, wives and life while May and I chatted, watching them.

Ringo turned more melancholy as we approached two in the morning, holding my hand, touching my face, and looking at me with those big blue watery eyes. He weaved his way to the jukebox and punched in Charlie Rich’s “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” over and over again. At one point he was on his knees, resting his head against the speaker, which was at the bottom of the Wurlitzer.

“That poor guy,” I said to John and May. “He’s still in love with his wife. Look at him, his heart is broken.” John said softly, “Nancy, he’s a good lad… give him a chance… you two will be good together.” At that moment I didn’t realize just how prophetic John’s statement would be.

Daytrippin’: So you knew John Lennon before you actually met Ringo?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Yes. I met John through my old boyfriend and legendary bass player, Carl Radle. Carl played bass for Leon Russell and Eric Clapton and did many sessions in LA. So I met John at a recording studio. I can’t recall exactly what session it was but May and I instantly became friends that night and John gave me the thumbs up.

Daytrippin’: So what was John like as a person?

Nancy Lee Andrews: He was high energy. He loved a good conversation. He liked facts about a subject. And he was simple when it came to his needs, music, food and friends. He was a night owl and liked to go to the movies after midnight. One night we went downtown to a funky theater with Bob Dylan to see a Bruce Lee marathon. Those were the days when a Beatle could make a run in the middle of the night to Pinks for a pig out on hot dogs. He would get so excited in the recording studio and start sort of dancing when he was hearing what he wanted. He just loved to get groups of us at the microphone for backup vocals. We had a lot of fun.

Daytrippin’: And you met George Harrison before all of them. (Her boyfriend at the time, Carl Radle, played bass on All Things Must Pass and The Concert for Bangla Desh.) What was George like?

Nancy Lee Andrews: George was quiet but had this intensity when he talked to you. Again, this guy loved music and it was all about the music. His wife at the time, Pattie Boyd, was great to hang out with. She’s a creative woman and a wonderful person. A few years later Ringo and I went to visit him and Olivia at Friar Park in 1979. They were so happy. Olivia cooked a delicious dinner, he played the guitar and we wandered around that huge mansion while he told us its history. He opened a door, I think it was in the kitchen and handed us candles and told us to follow him. I thought, Oh, we’re going to the spooky cellar but the stairs kept going down and down and finally we landed on a flat surface. I looked, and couldn’t believe what I saw… it was a cave complete with stylolites. Walkways through a cavern. There was even a stream running through it! I had my camera with me and we had a hilarious time shooting with and without the flash. I have so many incredible pictures of us in that cave.

After that we settled in his study/music room and he handed me a bowl of rubies… big ones, small ones that were all cabachons. It was days before my birthday and he said to pick what ever I want and have something made. While he and Ringo talked and played the guitar I settled in front of the fireplace and designed a necklace with lots of hanging rubies. One of those nights I’ll never forget.

Daytrippin’: So after John set you up with Ringo, how did your relationship develop?

Nancy Lee Andrews: After our first date we were hooked on each other. We just continued until one day we were looking for a house together and we were a couple. Our world was fast and on the move all over the world. We had a place in Monte Carlo, England, Amsterdam and LA. Between the recording studios, movie premieres, promotion tours, traveling nine months a year and juggling the children, friends and family we were gypsies — elegant gypsies. Sometimes we would unplug the phones and hide out in our own house not letting anybody know we were in town. Just a few days of old movies, some home made popcorn and our favorite meals. Those days were some of our best times.

Daytrippin’: Your new photo book, A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll, chronicles your life with Ringo (1974-1980) as well as the decade of the 1970s. How did you go from an Eileen Ford Model to becoming a rock photographer?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I always had a camera in my hand and recorded what was happening in front of me. Thinking back, there are so many times I wish I had clicked the shutter instead of feeling the moment was too personal and awkward to take a picture. But you know there are thousands of images from our life and the people who just happened to be there and I would click. Like the great images of George at the Grand Prix in Monte Carlo… click, click… they’re in the book. But not all of them, so I’m going to introduce many new images in the gallery shows. If I used half of what I have the book would be many, many volumes. You know looking back I had the ultimate all access pass and nobody ever told me to put my camera down.

Daytrippin’: How did the camera figure into your relationship with Ringo and how did he help boost your career?

Nancy Lee Andrews: The camera was a huge part of our lives. We were both posers and loved to give it up for the camera. He loved the way I saw things and encouraged me to shoot. One day he said he needed a new head shot for the new album and said, “You shoot it.” We went out by the side of our house where the light reflected beautifully and we did our little session. After that we did his next two album covers — Ringo the 4th and Bad Boy, the “Ringo” TV Special and various other publicity images. He is a natural in front of the camera. There are images I took of him while in Morocco that are breathtaking. He actually looked like he could be a Bedouin lord… a flowing Black cape with a long hood… he merged with the culture and they accepted him as one of their own as we strolled through the Medina. We were living in our own personal movie in a foreign world and I was shooting it. What a trip!

Daytrippin’: You also helped Ringo write a song, the lovely “Las Brisas” on Ringo’s Rotogravure. How did that come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews: We were in Acapulco, I think it was the first year of our relationship, and it was so romantic at the Las Brisas Hotel. Everything was pink — pink jeeps, pink flowers floating in the pool, etc. I was fascinated with the language and was asking someone to translate words for me and writing them down on a napkin in a poem form. A band was playing and Ringo picked up the napkin and stared singing the words. We worked on it over the next few days and it became our little song.

Daytrippin’: You also took the cover and back shot of Ringo’s next album, Ringo the 4th. What inspired you?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Fantasy, fairy tales, sword and sorcery, not sure but evolved from a nice bottle of champagne and maybe a book we had been reading. I think I put that sword in his hands to represent him slaying his demons. There was this big empty closet in our suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan. I mean, it would have been a bedroom in some apartments. Any way it was the perfect light box when the flash went off. We had the best time shooting in that closet with my girlfriend, Rita, on his shoulders.

Daytrippin’: There’s a famous shot of you, Ringo and Paul and Linda McCartney on 5th Avenue in New York. What was Paul like and how did that photo come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews: We were strolling down 5th Avenue back to the Plaza Hotel and we hear someone calling Ringo’s name. I turned and saw Paul and Linda across the street. I mean what is the chance of that? Paul had a photographer following him so when he caught up with us the photographer snapped away. Paul and Linda came back to the hotel with us and we ordered some tea up to the suite. I found Paul very charming and down to earth. He and Linda were a real couple; you know, they were a unit. Linda had a wonderful sense of humor. We never hung out with them. They were always on the farm and Paul had his own music. He did write a song for Ringo’s Rotogravure, Pure Gold. Paul said it was about me for Ringo, so he recorded it.

Daytrippin’: Ringo once again called upon you to take publicity photos for the “Ringo TV Special” in 1978. What do you recall about that shoot and how did Ringo approach the project?

Nancy Lee Andrews: He took the role seriously because it was the first vehicle that revolved around him. American TV was a very important vehicle to promote his music. We had just acquired a house in the Hollywood Hills and it was empty, so we decided to use the living room as our studio. It was great fun working with an art director and director. Ringo was surrounded by some great performers who just loved him.

Daytrippin’: You met a lot of famous people through Ringo. Who was the most memorable?

Nancy Lee Andrews: The Duke! We were having dinner one night at the El Padrino Room at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and I was beside myself because John Wayne was sitting a table away. He was in my line of sight, but not Ringo’s. I was fidgeting and terribly distracted. Ringo finally asked me what was wrong with me and I gushed, “I can’t believe this but John Wayne is sitting right over there.” Ringo’s eyes lit up and we sat there like two starstruck kids. When John Wayne was leaving he walked right by our table and Ringo stopped him to say hello. He was so nice and very tall. Ringo asked him if he would give me a kiss and he said sure. He put out his hand and pulled me up from the table and laid a Maureen O’Hara big one right on my lips. I was a puddle with a stupid grin on my face as Ringo laughed and the other diners smiled at me. Now that was a man and a legend!

Daytrippin’: You’ve got some great photos of Ringo and Keith Moon at Trancas Beach in Malibu. What was your relationship with “Moonie” and was he as crazy as he has been portrayed in the past?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Keith had two sides. Some of those pictures in Malibu capture the soft cuddly side of him. The other side was the Mad Hatter who could make any tea party interesting.

Daytrippin’: You also developed close friendships with other Beatle cohorts such as Harry Nillson, Dr. John and Donovan. Give me a brief thumbnail of each person.

Nancy Lee Andrews: I loved Harry Nilsson like a brother. One of the most brilliant and fascinating men I have ever met. Dr. John was all about the music, too. He loved his kids, a southern gentleman. Donovan is very impish and fun. He loves to entertain and gets everyone involved when he knows he has your attention. A great subject to shoot.

Daytrippin’: The book portrays a very fast-paced, jet-set lifestyle that you shared with Ringo, including trips to England, Japan, Monte Carlo, Morocco, Mexico and the Yucatan. Didn’t you nearly die in a plane crash in the jungle in the Yucatan?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Here’s what happened: we were having a nice time in the Yucatan for about a week until Ringo suddenly became restless. He woke up one morning and said, “Get me off this island. I don’t care how you do it, but get me outta here.” In a matter of hours I managed to book a twin-engine plane to Merida that seated six people. Our party of four, the two pilots and our embarrassing amount of luggage put us well over the plane’s weight capacity. Despite that and a looming tropical storm, no one could talk Ringo into staying another day. The pounding storm forced us to fly so low that the bottom of the plane was brushing against the tops of the trees. I was trying to calm my friend Susan S. Fair down, who was sure that our plane was going to go crash in the jungle and our remains would never be found. Hilary Gerard, Ringo’s manager, was holding Tibetan prayer beads up against his third eye, furiously chanting and wishing for a cigarette. While everyone was frantic and on the verge of breaking down, Ringo was as calm as could be. He said very matter-of-factly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my time to go, so we’ll all be fine.”

Daytrippin’: You went out with Ringo during the height of the disco era. I have it on good account that he took ballroom dancing as a kid and is pretty light on his feet?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Oh my god, he was a fabulous dancer. We loved to go to the discos in Monte Carlo and Regine’s was our favorite. The DJ knew that we loved “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” by Marvin Gaye and would play it at least twice while we were there. Ringo would jump up and pull me to the dance floor. He had moves that were so simple but looked so good. Also we loved to go to Tramps in London… they had the best bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes). We would gobble it down around 2 a.m. before we went home. If other women wanted to dance with Ringo they didn’t ask — they knew I would scratch their eyes out. As far as ballroom dancing I honestly did not know that about him. Hmmm, maybe that’s where he got such good timing.

Daytrippin’: Your relationship with Ringo came to an abrupt end when he met Barbara Bach on the set of Caveman in 1980. You were actually engaged to Ringo at the time. How did you find closure?

Nancy Lee Andrews: It took time. I thought he would come home to me but he fell hard for Barbara Bach. I put my focus on photography. I had a business called Headshots for Women and advertised in Variety. My beauty lighting had the girls lined up. This was before photoshop. I had an air brusher and he would wipe the lines away and the women loved it! Love my computer. I had a couple of committed relationships over the next ten years and finally gave up. That’s when I met my husband and we are now coming up to our 15th anniversary… not to mention the few years of courting.

Daytrippin’: Tell us about your life today and what are your future plans?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Well, life is very exciting these days. The book is coming out and will show my photography, even though it’s a flashback to the ’70s. My friend, May Pang, is also coming out with a book of never before seen photos of John. We’re going to be doing gallery exhibits and book singings together this spring in Scottsdale, Arizona; Palm Springs, California and NYC. I have a wonderful exhibit at the Tennessee State Museum this summer, a combination of A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll and a dash of country. I also head up IconicPhotos.com, a Web gallery showcasing some fine photographers work at prices that won’t dent your wallet. I’m currently negotiating gallery exhibits in London, Paris, Amsterdam and San Francisco. Whew, this is only a few months into the year and everything seems to have just taken off.

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creepswrites · 6 months ago

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RED CHRISTMAS | Billy Lenz

this story was one of my favorites to work on that never got as much attention as i had hoped so... here's hoping a rewrite will do it some good! as always, i'll link the original here if you want to go back and see what i've previously done for this story :) jsyk i will likely do something with billy x reader in this universe later if this rewrite does well!!

BILLY LENZ + SORORITY GIRLS

SUMMARY: Her sorority sisters always teased Jess for being an affectionate person. She was sympathetic and cared deeply about people. So seeing Billy cry felt wrong. Like it wasn't something he'd meant to do nor had he in a while, which broke her heart a little. She didn't know his past but if he had nobody looking for him, no idea how he got here, and acted out emotionally then…

Maybe he didn't have anybody at all.

WARNING: child abuse & neglect, graphic violence, talk of abortion

From within the shadows of the messy closet, Billy stood squeezed into the shadows. Green eyes bore holes into Claire Harrison, watching her every move as she packed her bags in preparation to leave for the holidays. Christmas was coming and many of the sorority girls had made plans to leave - Billy knew this, had heard them talking through the floor or on the phones. Sneaking in hadn't been difficult in the first place, not for him anyways. Attic windows were rarely locked. He'd only been here for a few days though, which meant the girls were still unpredictable. But that was fine. He could change that easily.

People were predictable when they were afraid.

His phone call earlier had really rattled them all, especially Claire. He'd been calling the sorority house for a few weeks but only just recently snuck in, a bold move he didn't normally go for. There hadn't been any rhyme or reason to choosing these girls though. Maybe parts of them reminded him of Agnes, of his mother, or of something entirely different. But here they were and here he was.

The little girl in the park had been an accident. Just an accident, he swears. She'd caught him sneaking around and he had to kill her or else he'd get into trouble. Billy didn't want to be in trouble. Mother would get angry and then she'd–

The sound of Claud's meowing had Billy jolting back to the moment, his breath hitching as Claire gravitated closer and closer to his hiding spot in the closet. His heart began to pound as she reached inside to grab one of her many dresses just as he lunged for the girl's throat. The two stumbled to the floor and the force of the landing knocked the wind out of the poor girl and she was knocked out cold. Billy stared at her, feeling his whole body shake as he crawled up her body to examine her face.

Plain but pretty. Brown hair, big sad eyes, and cheeks flushed from exertion. She reminded him of–

Billy sat back on his knees, his hands trembling violently as he buried his face in his hands, fingers sliding up to grip at his hair. Whimpering, he shook violently as he waited for the adrenaline to come down. With still-shaking arms, he lifted her up into his arms like she was something precious and fragile before creeping towards the door.

He could hear the girls downstairs chatting and laughing, which he took as his cue to escape. The attic door had been left open to make his transition easier. Billy was stronger than his lankier appearance let on, making it easy to lift the girl up into the attic and slide the door shut behind his feet.

The attic was dark, dusty, and quiet. Just the way he liked it. The wooden planks on the floor gave him tiny splinters for him to yank out with his teeth, cobwebs covered all the old boxes and props, and the window panes that somehow weren't cracked were cloudy from years without cleaning. It felt just like home.

A sole, wooden rocking chair had been set up by the old window, creaking as the slight draft swayed it back and forth. Billy sat Claire down in the chair, tying her torso and limbs to it. He wrapped a cloth around her mouth to prevent her from screaming if she awoke and did his best to ignore the way his hands shook. She definitely looked like how–

Mama had to be in her usual spot, Billy thought to himself as he began searching for the doll he'd stolen borrowed stolen from the little girl in the park borrowed. Right by the windowsill with Agnes, just like he remembered. Giggling to himself, he set the ratty, bloodstained doll in the girl's lap.

Despite her resemblances, Claire was softer and kinder than his mother had been. He'd heard the way she talked to her friends or her boyfriend. Warm and loving, accurate only to the version of his mother that Billy had invented in his mind. She was always sweet and good to Agnes, he remembered that clearly. He remembered sitting at her feet just like this, watching her rock the baby by the window as the snow fell.

But Billy always made her angry, always in her way somehow. He remembered the way her face would twist and contort whenever he so much as entered the same room as her. As though simply asking to share her space was an insult that Billy could never hope to apologize for. She would scream at him, cursing him for ever being born, and laugh when he began to cry.

She wasn't yelling now, Billy focused back on the little doll. He was in control now. His mother and sister were gone. He was in control now.

"Little baby bumpin', daddy's gone a-huntin', gone to fetch a rabbit skin to wrap his baby Agnes in…" His scratchy voice sang out into the dirty, dusty space. He pushed gently on the chair to rock it slowly and fixed his eyes to wear the girl's shoes scuffed at the floor. Mother never let him look at her, he reminded himself.

Hearing the muffled sounds of voices coming up the stairs, Billy lifted his head slowly. He listened to doors close, likely just the girls disappearing into their rooms, and crept towards the attic door. He knelt to press his ear to it, nervously humming and chittering to himself as he did.

Calling the sorority house had been stupid, Billy hissed in his mind. "Stupid, stupid Billy," he whimpered, banging his head once against the door, wincing when it rattled. He never should have done that, so impulsive and stupid, said Her voice in his head.

"Hello, Peter?" A soft voice trickled through the cracks of the door. Billy froze to listen better. "I just want to talk to you." The girl - Jess, he recognized - was talking to her boyfriend. Peter had only been over to the house once, on Billy's first night there, and he despised the man. So rude and repulsive to look at. Always talked down to the girls and thought himself the smartest in the room always.

Billy opened the door just a crack to hear better. "Nothing's the matter, I just need to talk to you. In person. It's important." Jess said with a small sigh. Billy didn't need to see her face but he could picture her exhausted eye roll. Barb had been on the receiving end of that look one too many times. But he knew what Jess was talking about.

He'd already heard Jess talk to Phyl about the pregnancy.

A part of him wanted her to get the abortion too. Recalling his own childhood, remembering Agnes' life, he didn't want to see Jess turn into his mother. Though he could stand to see her annoying boyfriend meet his father's demise - dead in a river, body not recovered for three weeks. At that point, he and his mother had been halfway across Canada, away from it all.

Maybe it would do Jess some good to embody his mother just a little bit.

"Peter, it's important!" Jess insisted, frustration now evident in her town. "I'm not telling you over the phone because this needs to be in person, don't you get that?"

Billy didn't feel in his own body as he crept down the ladder, landing on the ugly carpeted floors with a soft thud.

"Peter-!" Billy heard the phone be slammed down as she angrily hung up. He crept towards the banister of the stairs, staying crouched down as he observed Jess wrap her arms around herself. She threw herself against the couch with an exasperated huff. "The nerve of that man…" She grumbled, arms crossed in frustration.

She noticed movement on the stairs and lifted her head, expecting to see one of her sisters.

Both Jess and Billy jolted in surprise when their eyes met. "Oh, are you from the party?" Jess asked, not noticing the way Billy's breathing picked up. "You should head home, it's late." She rubbed her tired eyes for a moment and then paused. "Unless, um, you're keeping one of the girls company?"

Normally she didn't mind whatever boys her sorority sisters invited but something about this guy staring was… honestly creeping her out. He looked dirty and startled but not outwardly dangerous at least. Lord knows they had enough on their plates with The Moaner calling every other night.

Billy hadn't moved nor blinked. She could see him and that made him real… Did she know about Mother in the chair upstairs? Did she know-?

"Hello?" Jess called softly, getting up off the couch and approaching the stairs slowly, like he was a startled animal. Her expression morphed from confusion to concern as Billy just nodded quickly, chewing on chapped lips like he was struggling not to smile.

Surely she knows, Billy whimpered quietly to himself as he began to yank hard on his hair. She's only asking to see if he'll lie and then she'll-

"Do you need help?" Jess's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts and his head snapped to the side to meet her concerned face. She was crouched beside him now, a look of quiet worry to her that reminded Billy of his social worker.

When had she come up the stairs?

"Help." He repeated, mimicking her tone effortlessly.

They both startled at that. Alarm bells were ringing in Jess's mind but she ignored them, reassuring herself that everything was fine. "Do you know where you are?" She asked gently, looking him over for head injuries.

Billy hated that look. He quelled the urge to dig his fingernails into her neck by digging them into the thick fabric of his sweater sleeves instead.

"No." He said through gritted teeth, eyes locked to the floor as he stood up in such a fluid motion that it reminded Jess of a cat.

He wasn't supposed to be found. He hissed, white-knuckling his hair and yanking with a muffled grunt, trying to ground himself. Why had he climbed down, what was he doing, everything was going to be ruined-

Jess shot up to take his wrists, clearly alarmed. "It's alright," she soothed, tugging on his sleeves gently in hopes he'd move his arms with her help. Billy watched her with wide, fearful eyes and it tugged on her heartstrings just how fearful the man looked. "I want to help."

For a second, Billy believed her. Jess seemed kind and concerned for him. His eyes flickered back and forth between her eyes as he let her guide his hands to his sides.

"Do you want something to drink? Maybe sitting down will help." Jess kept her hold on his wrist loose as she guided him down the stairs towards the kitchen, uncaring of the scratchy feeling of the strange man's sweater.

The kitchen wasn't anything phenomenal - plain but useful, currently decorated to the nines for Christmas like the rest of the house. It was a dingy white from years of use and the floor had been smoothed down in patches that were commonly used. The piping was poor and the dishwasher often broke. But it was functional.

Jess busied herself with making hot cocoa as her guest sat down in one of the old dining chairs near the doorway. His eyes bore holes into her in a way that made her skin crawl.

But he was interesting. The green turtleneck he wore reminded her of Peter a bit but the messy, dark brown curls set him apart. Green eyes were slightly obscured by hair and they darted aside whenever she attempted eye contact. He looked like he was covered in dirt and dust, like he'd been crawling through the attic.

Something about him made her feel equal parts sympathetic and afraid.

She sliced into the warm cinnamon coffee cake Barb had made and snagged one of the bountiful candy canes from a nearby jar. They'd been set out for the party but few people had actually taken one. For such a staple of Christmas, they weren't very popular. But Barb's cake was, as there were only a few slices left on the cake tray. She drummed her fingers anxiously while she waited for the hot chocolate to warm up in the microwave. As a last ditch effort, she began humming a soft melody to try and ease her nerves.

His gaze never left her. She could feel it the entire time.

Finally, everything was ready and she brought the assortment of treats to the little dining nook table where her impromptu guest sat, chewing anxiously at his knuckles as she approached. "Here you are," she joined him at the table while setting things down. "We have marshmallows and whipped cream if you want that too. I wasn't sure of your preferences."

Billy gave the food a once-over before deeming it safe. He'd seen her prepare it and it was unlikely that it would have been fed to guests if it was full of rat poison. His stomach churned slightly at the memory of his mother's cooking. So he took the offered fork with a shaking hand and began to dig in like a man starved. Which he was, technically.

Jess, meanwhile, watched with concern as he dug in. "Well, I didn't think Barb's baking was this good." She chuckled nervously. "Do you, um, know your name?" A part of her was very worried the man had some time of head injury or amnesia that was causing him to act this way - wild, out of control, whatever it was. It was too snowy out to take him anywhere but she'd brave the icy streets if this man needed medical care.

He froze and stared at her again though his gaze no longer unsettled her. But he seemed afraid of her, which troubled Jess. "...Billy." He stammered before busying himself with the cake again.

"Billy." She repeated. Billy liked the way her voice sounded - smooth and gentle, like a fireplace that warmed the whole house. "Well, it's nice to meet you Billy. I'm Jess."

Setting the fork down on the now-empty plate, Billy tilted his head curiously. "Jess," he mimicked her voice back.

She startled, giving him an amused smile. "Yes. And- And do you know how you got here, Billy?"

He stared at her blankly for a long, very awkward pause. The only sound was the soft rustling of plastic as Billy unwrapped the candy cane and stuck it in his mouth. "No." Which wasn't a total lie. He didn't know how he got here but he remembered the moment he realized where he was.

Jess nodded along, drumming her fingers again. A nervous tic Billy picked up and began to do as well against his leg beneath the table. Mirroring people was the best way to put them at ease, in his experience. It made him easier to relate to, easier to understand. People didn't look at him as weirdly when he reminded them of themselves.

"I see," Jess said with a troubled look on her face that made Billy's stomach churn. "Well, is there anyone I could call? Someone who may be looking for you?"

Again, his insides churned. "No." His voice was muffled around the candy cane, obscuring the way he mimicked her accent. Smooth, a nice cadence to it. She sounded like some of the ladies in his mother's TV shows from Europe. British, maybe?

Jess frowned and Billy's heart pounded. He'd given the wrong answer, said the wrong thing, now she would-

"Billy!" His mother's shriek grated on his ears. Agnes was sobbing uncontrollably in her arms, a poor two-month-old thing that was barely more than a bundle of blankets.

A twelve-year-old Billy stood in the center of the kitchen, head hung in shame. But his guilty look didn't calm her wrath nor did it earn him sympathy from his stepfather sitting in the living room just a few feet away. "Yes, mother?"

"I told you I don't have time for chores with Agnes around now! So why am I seeing dishes in the sink and a mess on the table?" She spat at him, trying and failing to soothe the wailing baby.

Billy frowned. "I-I didn't know, mother. L-last week you said-"

A harsh slap hit his face in record speed, leaving him whimpering and near tears. "I know damn well I didn't just hear backtalk from you, Lenz. Bane of my damn existence, why the hell can't you be more like your sister?!"

"Because she is a baby." Billy said plainly, keeping his eyes on the floor in a futile attempt to not anger her further.

He didn't know, at the time, that was the wrong thing to say.

"Billy?" Jess's voice shocked his system, making him yelp in surprise when she reached across the table and placed her hand over his. She was looking at him with worry again and it made him want to rip her face apart. "Are you okay?"

Billy lifted his head, blinking slowly. Her face appeared blurry for a moment and it wasn't until he blinked that he felt tears fall down his cheeks. No words came out and he didn't move an inch.

Jess did though. She rose from her chair while still holding his hand and got him to stand. Despite the height difference, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

The sensation made Billy want to throw up. Voices of his mother shrieked in his head to stab her, be done with her. Jess had clearly seen too much and now she had to be–!

"You can sleep on the couch for the evening," Jess said, unaware of Billy's internal turmoil. "In the morning we can talk about what to do. It's too cold out to think of going anywhere at any rate." She offered him a small smile as she stepped away and back into the living room like nothing had happened.

Her sorority sisters always teased Jess for being an affectionate person. She was sympathetic and cared deeply about people. So seeing Billy cry felt wrong. Like it wasn't something he'd meant to do nor had he in a while, which broke her heart a little. She didn't know his past but if he had nobody looking for him, no idea how he got here, and acted out emotionally then…

Maybe he didn't have anybody at all.

"I'll go grab some blankets and spare pillows from upstairs. Make yourself comfortable!" She called over her shoulder before ascending the stairs towards the little closet at the end of the hall. As she was retrieving the blankets, she felt a cold breeze brush against her and make her shiver. Looking up, she noticed the attic door was open. "Honestly, Barb and Phyll should've shut this when they were done getting decorations," she sighed loudly while closing the door. "We'll all catch colds leaving it open like that."

When she came back downstairs, Billy had made himself comfortable on the couch, staring blankly into the fire and only looking up when she'd called his name. "I brought you things," she said before passing him the aforementioned pillows and blankets. The candy cane was still in his mouth.

The sight was a little ridiculous, she smiled to herself while watching her strange guest make a little pillow and blanket nest in front of the fire with such tired eyes. Yet still so much energy untapped and withheld in them.

She reached out without thinking and brushed a lock of brown hair away from his face, making them both freeze to stare at each other, neither daring to move. Jess cleared her throat. "Um, if you'd like to shower, I may have some spare clothes ups-"

A knock at the door made Billy let out an ear piercing scream, like he'd been stabbed. The candy cane - now sharpened to a fine point - was brandished like a weapon as he stared at the door.

Jess had let out a surprised yelp herself in unison with Billy. "It's alright, it's alright," she soothed immediately while trying to breathe her heart rate back down. "It's probably just some late night carolers." Billy stared at her with a horrified look and she gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll go send them off, don't worry."

When she went to the window to peel back the curtains, she found a very familiar man standing there, only waiting another second before knocking again impatiently. "Peter?" Jess frowned before looking back at the couch. Billy had retreated into the kitchen, now stood tucked behind the doorway like a frightened child. "It's alright, it's just Peter. He won't bother you." Leave it to Peter to show up at the worst times, she thought to herself as she unlocked the door. First he tells her to wait until tomorrow evening and now he's suddenly very interested in what she has to say? Honestly, it felt like he loved that piano more than her sometimes.

After a bit of a jiggle of the tricky handle, it opened. "Jess! Leaving me to freeze out there? After I came all this way?" Peter huffed dramatically, shrugging off his jacket and pushing past Jess into the sorority house like he owned the place.

Jess crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "I didn't think you'd be coming. After all, you made it quite clear you needed rest for tomorrow."

"Well, you piqued my interest," Peter said with an insincere smile. "'sides, I can't sleep if something's on your mind. What's going on?" He frowned as he took her hands in his, swinging them lightly. Jess could tell when he must've noticed Billy based on the anger on his face. "Who's THIS?"

Jess glanced over her shoulder and Billy now stood in the doorway properly, sharpened candy cane gripped like a knife as he glared the other man down. If looks could kill, Peter would be ash at Jess's feet. "That's Billy," she sighed, "He's from the party we had earlier."

Peter huffed. "So what's he doing downstairs with you all alone?" His concern was grating and Jess just shut her eyes to mask her exasperation. "Jess, sweetie, if this man's bothering you, just say the word and I'll-"

"Pig bitch." Billy grumbled under his breath, barely audible.

But Peter spun on him instantly. "What did you say?"

"Nasty, filthy, PIGGY BITCH!" Billy shrieked at Peter before stuffing the candy cane back in his own mouth and retreating into the kitchen, clicking off the light to hide in the darkness.

Peter's threats were like white noise as Jess stared into the darkness of the kitchen. That voice. That phrase. Only one person she knew said that. The Moaner. The horrible, awful Moaner on the phone who had been calling them almost nonstop and he was in their house. Had been in the house for who knows how long. And she'd fed him and offered to let him spend the night?!

She felt like she was going to faint.

"Jess, do you need me to kick this guy out for you?" Peter looked down at her, horrified. "This guy's a psycho, clearly. Which one of your sisters even invited him?"

None. Because he wasn't a guest. But Jess didn't say that.

But now she had a choice to make: tell Peter about the phone calls, the Moaner, and how for the past week Billy had been calling their house and disturbing them all with his snorting and screaming and sexual innuendos. Or. Or she could tell him about the baby. Ignore Billy's antics for now and tell him she wasn't keeping the baby.

Jess took a slow, deep breath before taking a seat on the couch and continued weighing her options. If she said something about Billy, Peter may try to pick a fight with him. A fight she was uncertain he'd win. Her boyfriend wasn't exactly scrawny but if Billy intended to make good on his promise of killing them, then she wasn't sure about his odds. But something about Billy felt like a walking contradiction of himself at every turn. He screamed about how 'nasty' they all were yet cowards in fear when Jess offered him food. He yells bloody murder at a knock on the door but squeals like a pig over the phone.

The psychology major in her was suffocating her to learn more. It was like the perfect opportunity had fallen into her lap and she needed answers. Billy came here for a reason, surely, and he didn't seem intent on killing them. Was it a cry for help? Something more?

She had to know.

So Jess steeled herself and let out the breath she'd been holding. "I'm pregnant."

Peter's eyes went wide for a moment before a delighted grin spread on his face, making Jess's stomach sink. "Well, Jess, that's wonderful!"

She shook her head. "No, it's not. I don't want it, Peter." She'd been afraid of this reaction, silently hoping he'd be as opposed to having it as she was. "I'm planning on getting an abortion soon."

Peter stared at her like she'd grown two heads. "What?"

Her arms crossed over her chest in attempts to mask how bad she was shaking. "I'm not keeping it."

A painfully long silence passed as Peter joined her on the couch, staring her down with a scornful look. "Jess," he said, voice eerily calm, "Listen to me very carefully. You are not going to abort that baby."

Jess turned to him with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"

"We'll get married and you'll keep the baby. It'll be perfect!" Peter smiled like he'd come up with the perfect answer. But all Jess felt was nausea.

"Peter, I don't want that. I have things I want to do, a degree I intend to earn, and things I want to do with my life. I don't want to play housewife for you with a baby I don't want and put all my plans aside." When she stood up to walk away, Peter grabbed her wrist tight. "Let me go-!"

"No, listen to me!" Peter practically snarled, voice oozing with malice as he glared her down. "You don't get to decide-"

"SHUT UP!" A shrill voice called from within the kitchen. It was the only warning before a glass cup smashed into the side of Peter's head, breaking into shards that scratched his cheek as they fell like a waterfall to the carpeted floor beneath their feet. Billy stumbled out from the darkness armed once again with the candy cane. He started babbling nonsense, running his hands through his hair and grinding his teeth as meaningless words fell from his mouth. "Shut your NASTY, disgusting, greedy mouth!" Billy hissed as he clutched the makeshift knife, growling like an animal as he tried to hold himself back.

He wanted Peter dead. Nasty, stupid Peter who wanted to ruin a poor girl's life with a disgusting, ugly brat. A mistake, a burden, another Billy Lenz.

Peter recoiled with a cry, clutching his face as blood oozed down his cheek. Jess checked him over for any other injuries before turning to Billy. "Billy, stop, you don't have to-!"

She didn't get the chance to say anything more, since Billy interrupted her with another eat-splitting shriek before he bolted for one of the throw pillows and began to stab into it with the candy cane over and over. Feathers flew everywhere and tears streamed down his face nonstop. He grit his teeth to keep himself from sobbing.

…

"Billy, don't!" His mother pleaded and sobbed as he struggled with her on the floor, rolling in the wrapping paper and ribbons that had been tossed aside once the gift was unwrapped. Blood already began dripping on the carpet from Billy's hands, staining the soft beige a dark red. "Billy, sweetie, it's alright-!"

Her hands were futile to stop him. He was clever now, sixteen this time and unable to stop his own crying. It wasn't his fault. She let out a grunt as Billy pressed the sharp tip of the candy cane closer and closer to her face. It wasn't his fault. Her gasp of horror as it hovered over her eyeball. It wasn't his fault. He closed his eyes and, with a bloody squelch and a cry of agony, he dug the candy cane into her skull. Hot blood got everywhere as it fountained out almost comically as her eyeball burst.

When she stopped gurgling, he stumbled towards the kitchen to grab the frying pan, tossing aside the eggs and bacon that had been cooking on it just before he'd slammed his stepfather's face onto the hot stove. He limped back to the living room and stared the woman down with a deadpan face. She looked crumpled and ruined, like a bloody rag that hadn't been washed.

He raised the pan over his head like a baseball bat and swung down.

…

"Billy!" Jess called out, wrapping her arms around his chest and pulling him away with a groan. "Billy, what's gotten into you?"

"He's a psycho, Jess!" Peter screamed, still clutching the cuts on his cheek. They weren't thick, more just grazed than anything, which was lucky. "He's a psycho and he's going to kill you!"

Billy flailed around, dropping the candy cane in the fray. "Stupid, ugly, DISGUSTING Billy!" He shrieked out in a high, nasally voice while trying to shake out of Jess's hold as she dragged him across the floor. His sobs wracked his body and made it hard to fight back.

Jess shook her head, lost in her confusion. She acted on instinct, kneeling beside Billy and pulling him in for a hug, letting him wail on her back with his fists and alternating between biting at her shoulder and trying to scratch at her. This, shockingly, wasn't new to her. She'd volunteered at a few special needs schools before and had worked an internship at a nearby hospital. This type of behavior made everything click in her head about how to help.

So she stayed there, running gentle fingers through matted hair and shushing him. "Easy, easy, it's okay," she soothed gently.

"Jess. the hell are you doing?! Get away from this guy, let's call the cops!" Peter roared and making Jess flinch.

"No, it's okay," she insisted, still holding onto Billy as he wailed on her. "It's okay Billy, you're okay now. Everything is going to be alright." She repeated over and over, smiling as the man began to settle in her arms, whimpering and sniffling.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Peter whispered in horror as Jess continued to pet him.

She really, truly, did not know.

…

"I'm pregnant!" Constance Lenz beamed at her boyfriend with all the joy of a little girl on Christmas. She and her boyfriend had been trying for ages now to have a child and finally they were successful. "The Lord wills it, blessing us with our own baby." She'd cooed, already fawning over her barely-showing stomach.

Meanwhile, the little eleven year old boy remained tucked away in the attic, ear pressed to the floor as his mother gushed about the existence of her first baby.

Her previous husband - Billy's father - had died of a "heart attack" not long after Billy turned six and the two had moved far away to "get away from the bad memories," or so his mother said. As if Billy hadn't been in the room, weeping as she smothered his father to death and fled to Canada in the night.

At first, Billy hated her and the incoming baby. Yet another sign that he wasn't wanted, just a roadblock in her life that she'd remove one day like she'd removed his father.

But Agnes had been precious. Small and fussy and Billy had been enamored with her immediately. He began the risky move of sneaking out of the attic just to go visit her, careful of his dirty, splintered hands and dusty clothes. He'd sneak food and water and visits to his baby sister while she slept peacefully in her crib.

Mother insisted Billy stay away from her. "She's too good for you," she'd hiss whenever Billy was summoned to do chores while Agnes napped. "You'd be wise to make sure she never has to see your ugly face."

For years, Billy suffered the abuse while watching Agnes grow up loved and looked after. She had birthday parties and family vacations while Billy had spiders and cold winters.

One Christmas morning when Agnes had been five years old, Billy had had enough.

Of course, she'd never met him before. But he knew her. He watched her while she slept from inside her closet or from the cracks in the attic floor like a protective guardian and was so, so attached to her. She flourished while he suffered and his adoration of her made it all worth it.

He was completely forgotten now. Stripped of personhood, just a memory his mother had locked in the closet. By the time Agnes had been three she stopped even calling Billy down for things. It was like he wasn't there at all. Two years of isolation and neglect and it all finally snapped.

So there he was. Sixteen and staring down at his kid sister as she played with her toys by the Christmas tree. Their mother lay dead amongst the wrapping paper with her skull smashed to bits by the frying pan that lay cast aside. Her father sizzled away on the stove as he bled out from his neck, which Billy had jabbed with a candy cane before going to town on his back with knives.

Billy stared, his own hands still wet with blood when he approached her on shaking legs, trailing blood behind him while she played with pretty, frilly dolls.

Agnes looked up at him with a soft, youthful face that screwed up in confusion. She wouldn't recognize him, he knew that. Even if it made him want to stab her along with them all.

"Little baby bumpin', daddy's gone a-huntin', gone to fetch a rabbit skin, to wrap his baby Agnes in," he sang quietly while lifting her up into his arms, staining her little white dress with red-pink streaks. He took a seat in their mother's rocking chair with a manic little giggle, like he was breaking a rule by sitting there.

Agnes just slumped against him, still fiddling with her doll's hair.

Billy stared ahead at nothing, just repeating the lullaby over and over. Tears fell silently down his cheeks as he clung to his baby sister like a lifeline.

The police found them like that. Cuddled together by the Christmas tree like it was a perfectly normal morning. "Agnes," Billy whispered in her ear as the police drew their guns, "Don't tell them what we did, Agnes."

...

Billy came back to the present moment to the soft sounds of Jess humming and stroking his hair in a nervous motion. He lifted his head and stared at her with bleary eyes. "Billy?" She asked when he finally looked at her. "Are you feeling better?"

He didn't say anything. Just slumped back down on her shoulder and bit hard into the thick wool of her sweater vest. "Mm-mm." Billy grunted.

"What did you say?" She asked, keeping her voice light.

"Agnes," Billy choked back another cry. His frantic babbling started up again but Jess was quick to soothe it down. "Little baby bumpin'..." Billy cooed quietly to himself.

"He's insane, Jess." Peter said unhelpfully. "Listen, I'm gonna call the cops and they can ship him back off to whatever asylum he came from." He scoffed as he looked down at the pair on the floor. "Lock him up and throw away the key as far as I'm concerned."

Billy's head shot up. "No!" He shrieked, turning to Jess with fearful eyes. "No! No! No!" He fought against Peter, who grabbed his shoulder to drag him away from his girlfriend.

"Peter-!" Jess protested, stumbling to stand to try and stop him.

Then, like angels descending upon them all, Barb and Phyllis came downstairs, still dressed in their nightgowns. Their mouths fell open in shock as they watched Peter and Billy wrestle to the floor and Jess dart over to stop Billy from absolutely wailing on him. "We, uh," Barb swallowed, "We interruptin' anything?"

Jess let out a sigh as she, once again, pulled Billy away. "I- See, it's-"

"Jess," Peter shot out before she could speak, "Is trying to play mother hen to this psycho!"

Barb looked Billy over with a thoughtful look before shrugging. "Eh, I dunno, any enemy of Peter's a friend of mine."

Exhaustion swept over Jess. What a world where the Moaner was in tears in her arms as she tried to keep him from beating up Peter like she was scruffing a misbehaving cat.

"Jess, what's going on?" Phyll, ever the voice of reason, piped up from beside Barb.

It was going to be a very, very long night.

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher fanfiction #billy lenz #jess bradford #peter smythe #phyllis carlson #barbara coard #agnes lenz #claire harrison #black christmas 1974 #red christmas

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