Mason sat in his room, staring blankly at the ceiling. The soft hum of the fan overhead was the only sound breaking the silence. His mind, however, was far from quiet. Memories spun in his head, pulling him back to a time he thought he had buried long ago.

He sighed and shifted on his bed. "How did it come to this?"

Mason’s thoughts drifted to his childhood, to a house that had once been filled with life, now hollowed out by the passage of time and his father’s broken dreams. Back then, his father was a star, a man who had it all—until one fateful injury took it all away. The man who used to be his hero was reduced to a shadow of his former self, lost in a haze of addiction. Mason clenched his fists, feeling that familiar anger rise within him.

Mason stood at the top of the stairs, watching his father stumble through the front door. His large frame collided with the walls as he tried to make his way to the couch. Empty beer bottles rolled across the floor, clinking against the hardwood. His mother, weary and frazzled from another long shift at work, stepped in to help him.

"Not again…" Mason muttered under his breath, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white.

“Let him be, Mason,” his mother had said softly, not even looking up as she helped his father collapse onto the couch. “He’s had a rough day.”

A rough day? Mason’s lip curled. Every day was a rough day with his father.

He hated the weakness. He hated how his mother had to shoulder everything. He hated how his father, once the strongest man he knew, was now nothing more than a broken shell. **I’ll never be like him,** Mason had promised himself that day. **I’ll never let myself be weak.**

Back in the present, he was in his room, Mason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest as he remembered those nights. The nights where he pretended everything was fine, even though he knew it wasn’t. But hiding the pain wasn’t enough—he needed something more, something that would make him feel stronger, more powerful.

That’s when the bullying started.

High school gave Mason an outlet. If he could make others feel small, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t feel so small himself. The insults, the cruel pranks—they were his way of taking control. And for a while, it worked.

But then he met Damien.

Damien Rook was everything Mason wasn’t—rich, charming, and confident. People flocked to Damien like moths to a flame. And Mason, desperate to belong, found himself drawn to Damien as well.

“Damien was the key,” Mason whispered to himself, remembering those early days. Damien wasn’t just a bully; he was the king of the school. If Mason could stand by his side, then maybe he’d finally have a place in the world.

At first, it was exhilarating. The power, the fear in the eyes of the other students—it gave Mason a rush. With Damien, he felt invincible. **In this world, you either eat or get eaten,** Mason had thought. **And I’m not going to be at the bottom.**

Then came Jake. Jake was different. Mason met him in middle school, back when everything wasn’t as messy. Jake had this light about him, this humor that made things easier. But even Jake had his scars.

Mason remembered the first time Jake opened up about the orphanage, how he’d grown up without a family. Jake laughed it off, saying it didn’t matter, but Mason saw the same emptiness in his eyes that he saw in the mirror every morning.

They bonded quickly—over sports, video games, and a shared understanding that the world was a harsh place. By the time high school came around, Jake was more than just a friend. He was family. They’d both agreed—stick together, rise to the top, and never look back.

But then, everything changed.

Mason’s thoughts turned to that day. The day Damien tried to jump off the bridge.

He was there. He’d seen it all. But he hadn’t moved. Something had stopped him—fear, guilt, or maybe just a sick sense of relief that for once, someone else was breaking. Even now, Mason couldn’t explain why he hadn’t done anything to help.

Instead, he watched, frozen, as Damien fell. And when Damien was saved by the beggar, Mason had walked away.

He told Ethan and Jake about it later. Ethan, of course, had laughed.

Now back in present, with Damien and Ethan gone from the picture, Mason couldn’t help but wonder—who was he supposed to stick with now?