Consequences of a Party (1)

-6- Atmospheres and Toilet Bowls

Mason wakes before his alarm decides to great his ears with its blaring noise. His throat felt dry and his head was light. Both of these things already contributing to the foul mood Mason found himself in.

Today was obviously not going to be his day.

Hoping that a shower might fix his mood, Mason wanders out to the bathroom with a towel over his shoulder, praying that he didn't bump into Ben.  Mason didn't particularly want to see his roommate so early in the morning. He hadn't even bothered to tell Ben he would be using the car to get to work today. He didn't feel like it.

Usually Mason would just walk to work, as it gave him that extra bit of exercise he needed, but today was different. Mason didn't want to walk in the cold morning air.  He didn't want to greet old Mrs Chev by the florist shop and pretend he actually cared what she had to say. He just didn't want to. Besides, with the pace he was going at this morning, he would be late if he even attempted to walk the entire way. Ben would just have to suffer without the car for a day.

After a few short minutes, Mason exits the shower in just his towel feeling a little refreshed, a small smile on his face. He knew a shower would bring his mood up.

Only, he spoke too soon. At the sound of a cough, Mason's smile drops. Turning his head, he spots Ben, who's finally emerged from his bedroom scratching at his bare chest. Ben yawns, taking in Mason's person as he stands by the bathroom door, water still dripping from  his hair.

Both boys stare for a moment. Well, Ben stares. Mason glares at him with a clenched fist in the towel.

"What?" Mason spits.

"Nothin'.."Ben mumbles, scratching at his head, "You just look kinda... different."

Tensing, Mason scowls harder at his so called friend.

"It's nice different?" Ben winces as he says it.

"Thanks for the observation, dip-shit." And with that, Mason continues to his room, face aflame, and lips pursed.

He's quick to dress in his appropriate uniform, not daring to look in the mirror. Not after what Ben said.  With a frustrated sigh, Mason snatches the car keys from the kitchen counter and heads out the door. He'd skipped breakfast. He didn't feel hungry anyway, not with the nausea biting at his stomach.

Driving through the small city, Mason grumbles every time he has to stop at a red light. He wasn't going to be very late, maybe by a few minutes; nothing too serious. He was in a bad mood. So much for the shower. He didn't eat breakfast, Ben had commented on his 'different' body, and all these traffic lights were beginning to really piss him off!

Parking in the little reserved staff-bay, Mason clambers out of the small car. He heads through the back door, snagging an apron from the hook by the shoe rack. Why Tobias bought a shoe rack for the cafe, Mason will never know.

The café was small, but they had made the most of the little area that was available. The kitchen was cosy, with a small hallway leading to the back door, and the bins that sat outside against the side of the building. The actual café itself consisted of mostly beige walls with a chestnut chair-rail and wooden panelling. All the tables and chairs were the same wood colour with little fake flower pots on each, accompanied with a little black table number.

The counter sat along one side of the café, half consisting of a glass case for displaying desserts, and the other half having a large silver coffee machine squealing away as it frothed milk.

Mason enjoyed working here. The people were sweet, the music was good, and it always smelt like home.

"Morning Mace!" a co-worker, Jerry, calls as he moves past with a few clean mugs to put away.