Now that the trial has been put to rest, Rueben believes that life is on an upward trend. It's not long before he understands he is sadly mistaken.
Around every corner lies a new demon lurking with the desire to rip the rug out from under him. He m...
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𝗛e slammed the tap off and turned, drying his hands on a nearby towel before he ran his hands through his hair and stared at his reflection. The uneven breaths that slipped from his lips created a fog on the metallic glass; his eyes stared at each other with intensity.
Am I really doing this?
What if he doesn't want to see me?
Mason gripped the porcelain and bowed his head, letting the front ends of his red and black ombre hair cover his vision. Blake was right – he needed to get it together and let Kai have another chance. Sure, he was putting his feelings on the line again by understanding that what happened last time might happen again, but somewhere deep down, he knew it would be worth it.
But what if he changed his mind?
What if he's already moved on from me?
He shook his head and stood up, exiting the bathroom. There was only one way to get the answers to his questions, and he knew what to do. He marched up to his bed and grabbed his cellphone, slipping it into his back pocket. Mason double checked that his gun was still where it belonged before he grabbed his grey zip – up hoodie and slipped into it, concealing the weapon.
He slid into his low top vans and laced them, not hesitating a moment more as he ran out of his bedroom and slammed the door. He halted in the hallway, raising an eyebrow, hearing loud ... noises ... coming from Rueben's room. A small smile teased his lips as he turned the opposite way to the kitchen.
I'm tryna be like you, Ray.
Mason grabbed his keys from the bowl containing them and speed walked to the door. If he could slip out of the house without anyone knowing – or stopping him to ask questions – it would be for the best. He wouldn't have to answer them, and he wouldn't have to see his friend's faces crumble when they realized where he was going.
The front door flew open a second before he reached the handle, shattering his goal instantly. Isaac stood in the doorway carrying a shopping bag. His eyes lowered to his outfit, his keys, and the expression on his face.
"Where are you going?" he asked, stepping into the house.
"Nowhere important," Mason mustered the most nonchalant voice he could.
"It's almost eight."
"I know."
Isaac probably read the truth off his cheeks because he slammed the door and leaned against it. He crossed his arms and gave him a scolding look.
Yup.
That's the face I was trying to avoid.
"You're going to see him, aren't you?"
"Possibly," he admitted, knowing it was pointless to lie.
