My brothers best friend

Chapter 14: Shattered Facades

(Edited)

Chapter 14

Valerie's Point of View

The party is in full swing when I arrive. The sound of bass-heavy music vibrates through the walls, and the warm glow of Christmas lights drapes over the living room. People are scattered around, chatting in groups, laughing, and dancing. I glance over at Jake, who's standing by the door, talking to some of the guys. He doesn't seem as involved as usual, though. His eyes scan the room, and when they meet mine, he offers a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Paige and Viktoria are already giggling in the kitchen, looking at something on Viktoria's phone, probably some inside joke with their boyfriends. But it's hard for me to focus on anything but Jake. I've been struggling to figure out how I feel about him lately. It's complicated. He's my older brother's best friend, and we've always had this... tension. But it's different now. Every time I'm near him, I feel this pull, a tug that's hard to ignore. I don't know what it means, but I can't pretend I don't feel it.

I pull myself out of my thoughts and head over to the couch where Mason is sitting. He's already sipping from a red cup, the corners of his mouth turned up in that familiar grin, but there's something off about the way he's holding it. He doesn't usually drink this much, especially not this early in the night.

"Hey, Mason," I say, sitting down beside him. "You good?"

He blinks at me, his face slightly flushed. "Yeah. Just needed to loosen up a bit." He raises the cup and grins. "It's just a little liquid courage, you know?"

I don't buy it. Mason's usually the life of the party—loud, confident, always cracking jokes—but tonight, he's quieter. I can see the way his fingers tremble slightly around the cup, like he's trying to hold it steady, but something inside of him isn't.

I glance around the room and notice that Jake's watching us from across the room. His eyes flick between Mason and me, his jaw tightening. I've been around Jake enough to know when something's off. He doesn't like Mason drinking like this. But I also know Jake isn't one to say much when it comes to other people's problems.

"Is everything okay?" I ask Mason, lowering my voice a little. I'm starting to feel the weight of the tension hanging between us.

Mason stares at the cup, the smile faltering on his face. "Everything's fine," he says, but it doesn't sound convincing. He takes another drink, downing it quickly.

I frown but don't push him. Instead, I lean back against the couch, my eyes lingering on Jake. He's talking to Viktoria now, but I can still feel his gaze on me, sharp and focused. The air between us feels heavy.

The night drags on, and Mason keeps drinking. The more he drinks, the louder he gets. I try to ignore it, but soon he's stumbling around, shouting at random people, trying to get everyone to join in some ridiculous drinking game. It's becoming obvious that something is wrong. I catch a glimpse of Jake, and he's scowling, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly irritated.

I make my way over to Jake, trying to catch his attention. "We need to help him," I say quietly, almost as an afterthought.

Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Let him have his fun. It's his choice." But even as he says this, there's a trace of worry in his voice. His eyes flicker over to Mason, who's now dancing alone in the middle of the room, practically swaying off balance.

I know Jake's not the type to want to intervene unless it's absolutely necessary. And maybe it's not. But this... this isn't just a drunk guy at a party anymore. It's something more.

I glance back at Mason, his face flushed, his movements sloppy. It's hard to ignore. "Jake, he's gonna hurt himself if we don't do something."

He's quiet for a beat, then exhales sharply. "Fine. Let's get him out of here before he makes a bigger fool of himself."