In the restaurant, the music played faintly in the background, a soft jazz, accompanied by the discreet sounds of forks hitting plates and the conversations of the other customers. The air was filled with the smell of pizza fresh out of the oven, hot steam rising up to their noses.

"Order whatever you want, it's on me today," Mason said.

Jay raised an eyebrow in surprise. His lip curled into a slight smile. "No need, I can afford to buy myself a pizza."

"I insist."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just wanted to take you out somewhere," Mason said as he busied himself with the menu.

Jay was trying to stifle a laugh, the corners of his mouth involuntarily turning up as he asked, "What am I, your wife or what?"

Mason's breath hitched, and he quickly looked away. "It's because you helped me with the key back then," he said, clearing his throat as he shifted the topic. "So... what are you getting to eat?"

Jay blinked in surprise; Mason was not easily embarrassed. Why now?

Jay's eyes skimmed over the pizza menu: Quattro Formaggi, Diavola, Prosciutto e Funghi. The prices were a little higher than expected. That made him settle on something simple—Pepperoni—just a basic choice.

"I'll have the pepperoni," Jay said, closing the menu.

Mason raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "It's too basic."

Jay nodded quietly. "It's okay that way. What, do you think you sound like a pizza expert?"

Mason propped his hands on the table. "No, but you could have chosen something else. But... as you like it."

Jay was resting his elbow on the table, head in his palm as he studied Mason. He followed the lines of his face—the well-defined jawline, the slightly curved lips in an absent smile, his eyes. There was something soothing about Mason's presence, but he didn't know what.

The waitress came over. Jay's pizza, a simple pepperoni, had a crispy crust and generous slices of salami, but his eyes immediately drifted to Mason's pizza—one with mozzarella, prosciutto, and fresh arugula, looking much more appealing. Involuntarily, Jay swallowed, realizing how good the combination looked.

"Do you want to share?" Mason asked, raising his eyebrows.

Jay smiled briefly and for the first time agreed. "Yeah, I'm actually going to have a slice this time."

They had already started eating, sharing slices of pizza. Jay glanced at Mason every now and then, studying him when he wasn't looking, and the moment Mason's eyes found his, Jay's heart would skip a beat, and he quickly looked away, slightly flustered.

"Have you started working on your painting?" Mason asked.

"Not yet."

"That's not like you," Mason remarked.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you at least have something in mind?"

Jay suppressed a chuckle. "I've got plenty going on in my head, unlike some people." He shot Mason a teasing look.

Mason laughed, raising an eyebrow, amused. "You really don't hold back, do you?"

Jay smiled back at him. "I was joking."

"I know, I know, I'm not mad. I meant, is there something on your mind that's stressing you out?"

Jay took a bite of pizza, chewing slowly, his eyes drifting as if deep in thought. After a moment, he set the slice down, resting his hands in his lap. "I don't know, man... I've been feeling a lot of pressure lately. Every time I try to start something, the ideas just disappear, or I end up hating them."

Mason tilted his head slightly. "Maybe you just need to take a break."

Jay scoffed. "Haven't I relaxed enough? That's part of the problem. I'm not doing anything, and I feel like time's running out."

"I get what you mean," Mason said, his tone softer. "But you're overthinking it. Maybe you should focus on something else for a few days. It might help you see things differently. Sometimes, when you're too caught up in your own head, it messes with your perspective. You're always thinking about the deadline or how much time is left. All that pressure clouds your vision."

Jay sighed. "I can't just do that. This is my first big opportunity... my first exhibition. It's my chance for people to notice me... am I doing something wrong?"

"No, but you're stressing yourself out too much. It's not wrong—it's just unhealthy."

"It's weird," Jay muttered. "I panic when I'm not painting, but when I do, it feels all wrong."

"We all feel like that," Mason said, offering a small nod. "It's not just you." Mason noticed the shift and offered a reassuring smile. "You'll figure it out. Don't stress. Everyone goes through this."

"Have you ever been through something like this?" Jay asked him.

"Of course." Mason paused, then added, "First year, before we moved in together, we had an assignment about multiple perspectives in a composition. Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"Well, I worked on that painting for almost a month and I really thought I did a good job. But when I showed it to Carter, you know what she said? That it was so off it gave her vertigo just looking at it."

"Average Carter feedback."

"Yeah. I was so disappointed... I worked so hard and I didn't even understand what the problem was. I thought everything was fine with it."

"When you put so much passion into something and someone, a stranger, comes and tells you it's not good, that this doesn't work or the other is wrong... it's kinda painful, you know? "

"Are you afraid of criticism?"

"I'm not necessarily afraid, but to put so much time and energy into something only to have someone else come along and tell you it's no good. That's why I want this piece to come out perfect."

"This is where your problem comes from. You have this blockage because you think too much about what to do and how to please others, instead of focusing on what you want."

Jay looked down, saying nothing, his fingers lightly playing with the edge of the plate.

Jay fell silent.

"In a way, I understand your blockage," Mason said, breaking the silence. "I think I should give up art. "You know how my family is. They expect me to become something more 'stable,' a lawyer or an engineer. To them, painting is just a hobby. And frankly, I'm starting to think they're right."

Jay frowned slightly. "But they don't get to decide what you do."

"No, but they're right after all," Mason continued with a forced smile. "It's hard to make a living from art alone as a full-time artist. And to be honest, I don't even feel connected to painting anymore. It's like I don't find myself in it anymore, I don't feel fulfilled..." He lifted his head slightly towards Jay.

Jay remained silent, staring at Mason, thinking.

Mason sighed lightly and said, "But don't get discouraged by what I said. You still have time to decide what you want to do."

Jay looked at him intently. "Then why did you choose painting, if it no longer appeals to you?"

"I didn't get accepted into architecture, and painting was the second option."

Jay's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah. I really liked drawing in high school, and I said, why not? But now... I'm not so sure about that anymore." Mason smiled briefly. "I might try again at architecture this year."

Jay leaned back, leaving the slice of pizza on his plate. "So you're not attending the expo this year?"

"Nope," Mason replied, shrugging.

Jay raised an eyebrow in surprise, setting the food aside. "And the professors agreed? Didn't they say anything?"

Mason shrugged. "They didn't say much. I don't think they really cared."

* * *

The rain fell in heavy gusts, filling the deserted street with a constant noise. Jay opened his umbrella, preparing to raise it over his head, when he noticed Mason pull his hood over his head.

"Here," Jay said, lifting the umbrella over his head and making room for him.

Mason pulled his hood tighter, smiling slightly. "I'm going to be fine. Keep it to yourself."

"There is enough room for both of us."

"I'm not sure about that."

"Or do you want to smell like a wet dog when you get home?" 

Mason gave a short laugh, "I promise I won't shake off too much on you," he said, joking. Then he moved under, closer to him.

Jay felt a slight shiver inside, but quickly masked his reaction, trying to look relaxed as they walked side by side. He was holding the umbrella with one hand, but as their steps aligned, it was getting more and more uncomfortable. He shifted his umbrella from one hand to the other, raising it a little higher, trying to cover them both.

Mason noticed. "Let me help you," he said as he reached for the umbrella.

"No, there's no need for that."

Mason raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm taller, so it's easier for me to handle."

Jay sighed slightly, elbowing him lightly in the stomach."Shut up. You're not much taller than I am."

Mason laughed, raising the umbrella above them. "A few inches count." He paused, realizing how that had sounded. "That sounded weird. Ignore it."

Jay met his gaze, and for a moment, the air felt charged. He looked away, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the moment.

"Hey, I hope you didn't get discouraged by what I said earlier."

Jay blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Earlier, when I mentioned how hard it is to make a living as an artist."

"Oh, no, I didn't take it that way." Jay sighed, his shoulders tensing a bit. "I know I've still got time... maybe something will come to me. But sometimes, it just comes down to luck. If it's meant to be, it'll happen."

Mason shook his head. "I don't really believe in that."

"In luck?"

"Yeah. I think you make your own luck. What I mean is, if you're on the right path, success will come eventually. The real question is: what does success mean to you? For some, it's just getting noticed once. For others, it's making money while chilling on the couch. Some just want to buy something they've always wanted. The important thing is to be happy, not to do it just to please others."

Jay looked at him, surprised by the gesture. "Um, thanks, Mason. That actually means a lot. You're a really good friend, you know?"

"What came to you so suddenly?"

"I don't know... I just felt the need to say it."

The rain drummed softly on the umbrella, a steady, soothing rhythm.

Jay felt his breath quicken as Mason moved closer. With each step, the space between them under the umbrella seemed to shrink, and the sound of the rain faded into the background. His heart pounded erratically, and a faint, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes dropped to Mason's hand holding the umbrella, realizing just how close they were. 'How does he not feel this too?' Jay wondered, trying to steady his breathing.