the other side of us | ✓

1.2 | blacked-out blur

There had been a time once, long ago, when Mason had loved parties.

Mason had been quite popular in high school and that popularity had followed him to college. He was attractive, and he knew it. With eyes that knew how to smolder and hair that fell just right across his forehead, he'd sometimes do that whole brooding artist thing that really made girls wonder just what was going on in his head. Mason was smart, too. He'd had amazing grades, despite his sleeping in class, and perfect attendance.

And while he'd loved the idea of parties and had frequented them all through high school, he had never felt comfortable during them. There was just something about all that human interaction that made him ridiculously uncomfortable. He was too old now, to enjoy the monotony of hooking up and drinking.

He never stayed long, just long enough to ensure that he'd witnessed most of the crazy events and would know all the good stories that would be circulating the next school day. He didn't drink, so there was never a point in staying any longer. And then Tara had gotten into her accident, and Mason had sworn off parties altogether. He hadn't set foot in a house party since he was nineteen years old, and now, three years later, he was back.

Mason took a deep breath as he pulled onto Anderson's street, anxious when he saw that the party was already in full swing, and he straightened his plaid button-down nervously. His palms were sweaty against the soft material and he quickly wiped them on his jeans. Several cups littered the lawn already and a blonde girl stumbled past as Mason made his way up the porch steps. He didn't bother knocking.

Inside the house, all the furniture had been shoved to the very edges of the room to make space for the mass of people dancing. The room was hot, and Mason felt the back of his neck begin to sweat. He needed to locate the stairs and get this over with. In and out. This wasn't a leisure visit.

Mason scanned the room quickly and made his way towards the kitchen, avoiding the swinging arms of the girls around him. Finding Anderson's room was top priority, but first he needed to locate Anderson.

The amount of people crammed into the spacious room had Mason wiping his hands on his jeans again and he shouldered his way through as quickly as possible. There were several girls on the counter, and Mason averted his eyes when their swaying hips caused their dresses to ride higher up their thighs.

Anderson was nowhere in sight, and Mason sighed in irritation. He didn't want to be here in the first place, and if Anderson wasn't entertaining on the ground floor, then that meant he was entertaining in his room. Which was precisely where Mason needed to be. He turned to exit the crowded kitchen and bumped straight into a girl. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her heels and Mason grabbed her forearm, steadying her.

"You okay?" he asked, looking down at her. In the dim lighting, he couldn't make out very much except for the fact that she was fully clothed.

"I'm fine," the girl said, sounding dazed.

Mason let go of her arm and she brushed herself off.

"Thanks for that, but maybe you should watch where you're going?"

He bristled slightly. "It's a house party, love. Nobody's looking where they're going."

The girl scoffed as Mason walked away, and he rolled his eyes while he made his way to the top of the stairs, stepping over several bodies and discarded cups. The steps were littered with pairs of torturous looking shoes that had obviously been abandoned upon stepping into the house.

Several of the doors were unlocked and yielded nothing of interest, and just as he was about to try the last doorknob, he heard a sound, followed quickly by panicked shouts.