Consequences of a Party (1)

-21- Confrontations and Yelling

Sitting in the park did not help Mason in the least. He thought that maybe with all the trees and birds and flowers, his head would calm down a little, let him breathe.

It didn't.

Sitting, alone, on the bench that was cold, only makes Mason's mind race. Thousands of thoughts running haywire in his head, only made him more stressed. It was so frustrating. He was supposed to be relaxing, healing, but he couldn't. No with this.

And the park? Filled to the brim with laughing children, squealing happily, and parents pushing their kids on the swings. It only made his heart ache and his chest sting.

Mason didn't realise how much he was actually looking forward to having a child of his own. Something that would no doubt stress his hairs grey, but none the less he felt.... sad. It was the saddest Mason had ever felt. Something inside him really wanted to be out there like those parents, chasing his little boy (or girl) around the playground, laughing and giggling.

He felt sick.

Standing from the bench, Mason shoves his hands in his pockets, walking back to his car, swallowing the lump in his throat. It didn't take long for the thoughts of Ben to rise back up into his brain. Shoving all his depression and grief out the window to be filled with rage and- and.. disgust.

Slamming the car door, he starts the car, silently fuming to himself. He had to confront Ben. he had to tell him that he knew. He knew what happened now.

Arriving at the apartment complex, Mason marches his way up the stairs, feet stomping as he prepared himself to throttle the shit out of Ben. Unlocking the door, he finds Ben sitting on the couch, watching the tv (as usual). With gritted teeth Mason slams the front door as hard as he can, rattling the whole apartment by the force.

Ben whips his head around to Mason, partly in shock, partly ticked off that he was slamming the door, a scowl on his face. Just as he's about to tell him off, Mason starts, not letting him speak,

"What the fuck," Mason begins, teeth clenched, "is wrong with you? Guess what I just found out."

Ben stands from his seat, looking confused as ever.

"What?" he tilts his head a little, looking wary of Mason.

"I had a little chat, with Bryan... How much did you drink at the party? Cause he seems to think you were very much sober."

"I didn-"

"How much- did you fucking drink, Ben! Don't bullshit me."

Ben swallows, his nose flaring as he realises what Mason was getting so ticked off at. It hit him like a trailer. There was no going back now, the cat was out of the bag,

"I didn't have that many, but I was still pretty drunk Mason--."

Mason grabs his own hair, growling out in disbelief, turning slightly away from Ben, only to whip around, eyes ablaze.

"That many? Yet you took me home, to our own fucking apartment, and thought it would be a 'good idea' to fuck me when I was completely trashed!" he was screaming, furious. All the anger he had bottled up before, exploding.

Ben's hands ball into fists. Having the audacity to look guilty and upset.

"Why?" Mason yells at him, exasperated.

"Why does it matter," Ben bursts, "it was a stupid party and it was one night!"

"One night? Ben, in case you forgot, I was fucking pregnant because of that one night!"