Mask | ✓

Epilogue [Part Two]

"Yeah," he responded after a few minutes, but there seemed to be some hesitation in his voice which made me frown slightly.

"You will do great," Another voice, which belonged to Roan, entered the conversation.

Nixon turned toward the phone and blinked before a small smile took over his face. "Thank you, Roan."

"I don't get a thank you?"

"No, Nolan. You don't," Nixon rolled his eyes.

"Do you see how he treats me, Tatum? All I do is care and support him, and yet, he treats me like shit," Nolan jokingly said.

Nixon rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but Roan beat him to the punch.

"You can be quite annoying at times, Nolan."

Nixon snorted, and Nolan scoffed.

"You've been talking to Nixon too much," he said, but I could practically hear the smile in his voice.

Nixon and Roan had been talking more. They were either texting or on a call. I didn't know what inspired the change, but I knew that it was not only making Nolan happy but the two of them as well. It also made me happy to know that Nixon was making more friends.

The sound of Stitch's impatient meows told me that he was hungry. I shook my head and set the phone down before telling Nixon I was going to let Goob out and feed the two of them before we left. He nodded as he talked to his brother, and I slipped out of the room with our two furballs hot on my trail.

The whole way down, Goob, very loudly, sang me the song of his people. Once we were downstairs, I let Goob out into the backyard before going to grab his and Stitch's bowls. I filled two of them with food and two more with water before placing them back on opposite sides of the kitchen. After one too many instances where Goob would eat Stitch's food, I figured it would be best if the two's bowls weren't right beside each other.

Stitch immediately began to eat the moment I set his food down, and I waited a few minutes before letting Goob back into the house, and—being the food-motivated dog he was—he immediately ran to his bowl and began to devour the contents inside.

Not long after, a fully-dressed Nixon came down the stairs and made his way to me.

"Are you ready to go?"

...

Ceremonies were always something I loved as a child. Whenever my parents took me to one, I always enjoyed looking around and seeing the smiling expression and positive energy that flooded the room. However, when it came time for me to take over the pack, I learned that it's one thing to be the one watching the ceremony, but it's another to be the one on the stage.

There were nerves and fears that could consume a person. The constant worry that something would go wrong and those watching would hate you, or you'd be embarrassed. Those fears constantly repeated themselves as they tried to make their way into your mind and send you running away.

But then the curtains opened, and those fears were pushed to the back of your mind. You take a deep breath, and you begin to speak, and suddenly, you realize that it isn't as bad as you thought it would be. Everything would be okay, and those watching would enjoy it.

When Nixon and I took a seat to get breakfast, it became evident that he was stuck in the first phase. His mind was in overdrive, and it was showing on his face.

"Nix," I called out softly as I reached across the table to grab his hand. "Calm down."

Nixon turned to me and shook his head. "I am calm."