Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Step Two: Anger	By : quoteintangible Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Metro Station Views: 825 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know nor own the members of Metro Station nor any of the members of the Musso family for that matter. This story is entirely fiction and I'm not making any money from it.

Chapter List
- 1-The Ice in Her Store-Bought Words
- 2-It's Not a Disease, It's Love
- 1
- 2
/ / denotes italics again

****

“Hello?”

“Trace.” She seemed almost relieved that Mason didn’t answer the phone. I felt a stir of anger. “Mason, is he…?”

“He’s sleeping.” There was more of a bite to my words than I intended, but I was worried and angered by her hesitance.

The answer should have been obvious.

“Mrs. Musso please—”

“I know Trace,” she interrupted. “God, I’ve always known. How couldn’t I have?”

It felt like an icy hand just grabbed my heart and forced it to stop beating.

“You…you knew?” I stuttered the words and shook my head in disbelief. “You fucking knew!”

“Trace you have to understand, I…I tried to help him. I did everything I could, but I just…I can’t leave him.”

I heard the words, but I /could/ not process them. I told myself over and over again, that it simply could not be true.

“I—I don’t understand.”

“Trace –”

“No! No. Fuck! Did you really think you were helping? Did you really do everything you could?”

“I…I’m sorry Trace.”

I felt a storm brewing in my chest, a tumult of emotions like crashing waves and a burn of anger stronger than a strike of lightning.

“Please, just tell Mason I’m sorry.”

And that was the final straw that let loose the storm. My thin barrier of control snapped with a sudden flood of infuriation.

“I can’t.” I felt hot tears burn my eyes. “God, are you even really sorry?”

“Of course I am.”

I shook my head again. She did not get it. She just did not get it.

And she never would.

“Mason tried to kill himself.”

It was a secret I thought I would take to the grave, but I found the words forcing themselves past my lips now. As childish as is it was I wanted her to hurt as much as we did and I wanted to be the one that hurt her as much as she hurt Mason.

It was a low blow, but nothing could be worse than what she just told me.

“He wanted to /die/, Katherine. For years I’ve wondered how /I/ let things get that bad, how /I/ could have done things differently so Mason never had to feel that way.

“And now /you’re/ telling me you knew just how miserable he was and you never did anything to stop it?! I’ve been blaming myself for years for never doing anything! But you’re his mother, you’re supposed to know better and you’re not even fucking sorry!

“Am I supposed to tell Mason this? Tell him that you said ‘sorry honey, I knew your life was a living hell, but I never did anything to stop it because you just weren’t important enough?’

“God, it would better off if you just never called.”

I was aware that my hands were shaking and my palms were sweating, but I was cold and trembling.

“Trace please. Please don’t do this.” But I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“If,” and I took a deep breath, “if Mason asked of you the same thing…what would you do?”

She stuttered and fell silent. There was no excuse out there that could answer my question.

“One day, when you’re all alone, you’re going to regret what you’ve done.

“But it’ll be too late to take back the hurt you caused. It is far too late already.

“So please, if at least part of you cares, however small and deep, you won’t call back ever again.” /It’ll be easier to forget you that way…easier to move on./

I hung up in tears, not caring if she had an opinion or if she even heard anything I said. Like Mitchel told me…it didn’t matter, not anymore. All I could do now was pick up the shattered pieces she left behind and try to move on, try to help Mason move on.

Hopefully one day we could.

There would always be a few pieces, though, left behind with her.

A single tear caressed my eyelashes and glided down my cheek.

I had to calm down before I woke up Mason and he saw me like this. I couldn’t let him know I was breaking too.

But I was too angry to stop the tears, too heartbroken to make the pain go away.

I brushed the bangs from Mason’s eyes and placed a tender kiss on his forehead before fleeing as more tears coursed down my cheeks.

Ant found me nearly an hour later, still pathetically sniffling in a local park.

I looked down, unable to meet his gaze as he took the seat next to me.

I briefly glanced at him, unable to meet his eyes. “I really fucked things up this time.”

Ant shook his head. “You are not the one who hurt Mason, Trace. This isn’t your fault. His parents are assholes and there is nothing you could have or can do to change that.” I didn’t ask how he knew. Maybe it was too obvious, and maybe we were too.

“No,” I agreed, “but I didn’t do anything to help either.”

“Didn’t you? Have you not always been there for him? Would Mason even be here if it was not for you?” And maybe Ant was more perceptive than I gave him credit for.

“I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “It’s just…he always been there for me Ant. He…he fixed me when no one else could and…I’ve never been able to do the same for him.”

Ant wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, Trace. Mason needs you. And as much as you don’t believe it, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time. You’ve helped him so much, Trace.”

“I just wish I could have done things differently.”

“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t. We all make mistakes and we all have to live with those mistakes for the rest of our lives. But you have to know when to let them go, or they will destroy you.”

I knew he was right, but I wasn’t ready to do it. Not yet.

“How did you know, Ant?”

“Know what?”

“How did you know about his mother?”

Ant gave me a small sad smile.

“Have you ever seen Mason stand up for himself?” My eyes jerked towards him as a heavy feeling settled in my gut.

“No.”

“Have you ever seen him flinch because someone got too close, or because their voice was too loud?”

“All the damn time.”

“ And when was the last time Mason was happy?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know.

“What mother wouldn’t notice?”

Anyone who knew him had to be at least suspicious.

It was obvious, painfully obvious.

Too hard to miss.

It was true, any mother would have noticed even if she wasn’t paying attention. Even if she did not want to see it.

Ant hugged me tighter. “I’m sorry, Trace. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Was there?

Mason was an adult. We couldn’t tell him what to do. We couldn’t stop him from seeing his father. Neither could we open his mother’s eyes or stop his father from being a dick.

No. There was nothing we could do and I told Ant so. I think he already knew, though.

“There’s still one thing you want to know, though, isn’t there?”

I cringed as Ant’s eyes searched mine. He was /too/ perceptive.

“You want to know how I know about the two of you.”

I cringed again and slunk down in the seat. Mason and I discussed telling Ant and Blake about our relationship, but we weren’t ready to tell them, or anyone for that matter, after the disasters we both experienced.

Ant smirked at me. “You two are so damn obvious. Sometimes I expect you two to just start humping each other on stage.”

He was trying to make me smile, but it didn’t work. I was too numb to feel anything at this point.

“We should really get back. Mason’s probably worried about you and I left him alone with Blake.” There was a hint of nervousness and an anxious edge to Ant’s voice. I turned questioning eyes toward him.

He looked away. “Don’t get mad, please, it’s just that…Blake is in love with Mason. He found out about your guy’s relationship the other day and he did not react well. I’m just, I’m worried about leaving him alone with Mason for too long.”

I bitterly laughed. Here I though it could not get any worse, we were already drowning.

But now something was holding our heads under.

I didn’t want to think about it too much for compared to our other problems, it was low on the list, but when we got back to the bus, there was something quite off about Mason.

He wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

And if there was one thing Mason was not afraid of, it was too look anyone in the eyes, even his father.

My paranoia got the better of me and I found myself giving Blake the glare of death.

/Take care of this,/ I silently told Ant with a withering glare as I dragged Mason away.

As soon as we were far away I wrapped Mason in a tight hug letting him know I wasn’t mad at him.

Mason tended to avoid me when he thought I was angry with him. He was still too afraid to talk to me about his problems rather than running away. I could not let Mason avoid me now, not when we needed each other so badly.

I tried to kiss him, just a quick peck on the cheek, but he turned away and I felt slightly unnerved.

“Baby, what happened?”

“Nothing happened, Trace,” he replied still refusing to look at me.

I didn’t believe him, but I thought, in his own time Mason would tell me.

I should have pressed harder.

But I had a more pressing matter on my hands.

“I…”and I stopped. I knew I had to tell him about his mother. When I looked at him, though, truly looked at him, I saw the bags under his eyes that almost looked like bruises and the hopelessness written on his face and I just did not have the heart to tell him. “I love you Mason.”

He turned to face me. “Do you love me enough to tell me the truth?”

I was surprised by my lack of shock. I should have known Mason knew about his mother. All this time…the tears, the despair, the depression wasn’t just because his father hated him.

I wanted to look away, but his eyes drew me in and I could not lie to his face.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Mason bit his lip and finally looked away.

“For the longest time I…I tried to convince myself that maybe it wasn’t obvious. Maybe she was just tired and overworked and too busy to notice. One day, though, Dad got really pissed and gave me a black eye before taking off. When I went to get ice, she was in the kitchen with an ice pack already made.

“She never even asked me how I got the bruise.

“I kept trying to tell myself she didn’t know, though. I kept making excuses for her. But I can’t lie to myself anymore, Trace. But I need to hear you say it before I can convince myself to stop making excuses for her. Please, Trace, tell me. Did she know?”

Maybe I should have lied in that moment. Maybe I should have said ‘no, baby, how could you even think that?’ Maybe Mason needed me to lie to him. But instead I nodded and destroyed the last tendril of hope Mason had been holding onto for years.

“I’m sorry, Mason.”

“I know.”

***

I growled in frustration and angrily shoved more clothing into my suitcase.

“Mitchel, where are you going young man?”

“Away from you,” I heatedly spat back. If she wanted to deny the truth, forget everything I told her, then I would not stay here.

I pulled out a second suitcase and continued packing everything that was important to me because I knew, I just knew I wasn’t coming back.

“Where are you going, sweetie? Please don’t leave.” She tried the nice approach this time, but it would not work.

“Do you even care?” I shot back. I sounded like a petulant child, but if she wasn’t going to listen to anything I said, I was not going to play fair either.

With my luggage over my shoulders I took off for my best friend’s house. He already said I could stay as long as I needed and was already outside waiting to pick me up.

I passed my father on the steps out. He had that fake smile I absolutely hated plastered to his face.

“Mitchel, where you headed son?”

“I hate you.” The words tumbled from my mouth, but I realized with sudden clarity how true they were. “I know what you did, you sick bastard and I hate you for it!” and I walked away, but not without one last comment, a dark secret I had been harboring for years.

“And guess what? I’m gay too!”

I climbed into the van waiting for me and cast one last glance towards my parents knowing I would not come back ever again.

***

Mason hadn’t reacted much when I gave him the news about his mother. He hasn’t said much since and I’m beginning to wonder if this is what shock is.

I’m lucky if I can get him to move from under the blankets, let alone eat or talk or do much of anything at all.

Mitchel called back to tell us he moved out.

/I can’t stay here knowing what he did,/ he confidently said, /she can live with her own mistakes./

I was surprised, we both were, that Mitchel was willing to go so far. His love and loyalty meant more than he would ever know.

Even that little bright spot, however, was unable to stir a reaction from Mason.

Mason’s phone wouldn’t stop vibrating either and I was forced to delete numerous angry messages from his father.

It was going off again and I was sick and tired of his father’s childish attempts to bully Mason. So I stole his phone from him and decided that I was going to tell his father exactly what I thought of him.

“This is all your fault,” was the first thing his father said. “Your mother won’t stop crying because of you and you turned Mitchel into a faggot.” I cringed, I hated that word, absolutely hated that word and for a moment I saw red. “It this what you wanted? You destroyed our family. How does that make you feel you little shit? The next time I see you I will make you regret it.” Mason shrunk away from the phone in fear from just his father’s voice and seeing his fear stirred a hate so powerful it consumed me.

“I don’t think you get it,” I calmly began, “I sure as fucking hell don’t care what you think and neither does Mason. /Your opinion does not matter./ You do not matter, not to us. So don’t fucking call again or I will call the police and get a restraining order. And I swear to fucking god if you call back I will stick my goddamn hand down your fucking throat and tear out your voice box so that you fucking shut up for once in your life! Better yet, I’ll tear out your fucking heart so that you fucking die! And you know what? You can’t catch gay!”

I snapped the phone shut before he could respond.

And then Mason did the one thing I never expected him too.

He smiled, no, he /laughed/ at me.

“You’re really funny when you get all worked up like this.”

I attempted to glare at him, but fell short and laughed with him. To see his smile was the single greatest thing I had seen in months.

“I’m glad.”

“Thank you, Trace.”

“If it gets you to smile, I really would shove my hand down his throat and tear out his heart.”

But he shook his head. “No, thank you for being there for me. Thank you for going through all of this just for me. Thank you for sticking up to my mother and father like that. Thank you, just, for loving me.”

“Thank you for loving me back.”

Maybe we were two bright colors living in a grey world. And maybe things weren’t perfect. And maybe they would never be. And maybe we would be hiding in the shadows for the rest of our life.

But we would always have these moments, and we would always have each other and there would always be someone out there to lend a helping hand.

There was a hint of winter chill left in his brown eyes, though, that scared me more than I wanted to admit. And I could not shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Step Two: Anger