Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 33

[ M A S O N]

The air in the dorm had been suffocating.

Thick, unspoken tension lingered like smoke, curling in the spaces between him and Kye, settling into the corners of their home. Every time Mason sat in the living room, curled up in his own bundle of blankets, he could feel Kye there—silent, heavy in the atmosphere, like an anchor tied to his chest.

But they weren't talking about it. Kye wasn't looking at him the same way anymore.And Mason wasn't sure if he could handle it.

So, when the invite for a party came through—one of those casual, small get-togethers where people drank too much and sat around telling stories—he took it immediately

The music wasn't too loud, but it was enough to fill his ears, to give him an excuse to tune out the quiet he had been drowning in for days.

About twenty people were scattered around the apartment, all giants, aside from Mason. But that wasn't unusual—he had been to plenty of these parties, had spent years being the only human in a room of people that could crush him without thinking. It didn't bother him.

What did bother him was how hard he had to force himself to be social tonight.

Normally, it was easy. A laugh here, a joke there, mingling from one conversation to another, keeping up with the way giants spoke in their slow, rumbling drawls, all too familiar with the space he took up in comparison to them.

But tonight? Tonight, it all felt fake.

He put on the smile. Let his voice slip into its usual lighthearted charm, let himself perform—but it wasn't real.
It was exhausting.

As the night continued. The party was alive, thick with voices and laughter, filling the air like static electricity. The scent of alcohol clung to the furniture, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat, the subtle burn of someone smoking on the balcony. The lighting was dim, warm, hazy—it made everything feel loose, easy, like Mason was drifting between conversations rather than actually participating in them.

He had told himself he needed this.

A break from the thick, suffocating weight of the dorm, a break from Kye's silence, from the way they had been avoiding each other, from the space that had stretched too far between them.

He was always good at putting on a show, at slipping into his usual charming self, playing the role of someone unbothered, someone who didn't have a single goddamn problem.

Then he saw Blake.

Blake was blind drunk, staggering slightly as he leaned against the counter, a bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. He was loud, laughing too hard, words slurring as he threw an arm around one of his friends.

Mason's stomach twisted.

Because Blake reminded him of Kye.

Not exactly—Kye wasn't this loud, wasn't this reckless when he drank. No, Kye's drinking was quiet, something that ate at him from the inside out, something that dulled him instead of making him louder.

But still—there was something about the sight of Blake swaying slightly, something about the half-lidded look in his eyes, something about the way he seemed to barely be holding himself up— Mason's hands clench into fists. It made Mason's stomach twist uncomfortably, something ugly settling in his gut.

Blake wasn't his problem.

Mason wasn't Kye's babysitter either, so he sure as hell wasn't about to take responsibility for someone like Blake, a guy who didn't know when to stop, who didn't care about control, who would probably wake up tomorrow with no memory of half the shit he'd done tonight.