Solitude

Fifteen

"You didn't actually have a conversation with Harry Styles!"

"I do not lie about Harry Styles!" He states very firmly and I slap my palms over my mouth in envy and disbelief. "I have a pic of it. However, I was upset because he said he couldn't make it to my birthday. In his defence, it clashed with his tour and all that," he waves it off like it means nothing.

"You invited Harry Styles to your birthday?" My eyes are wide and for a moment, I want to be him. I want to be able to walk around knowing that I shared a conversation with Harry Styles.

"Oh! I've also met Kit Connor and others in a fashion show. Milan? Paris?" He strokes his chin like he's been to too many fashion shows that he can't keep track of them. "He's the sweetest pea ever."

"Okay, who's the most famous person you've ever met?"

"Hmm..." He hums in thought. "I honestly don't know. Met one too many of them and let me tell you, more than half of them are pretentious divas."

"So, just like you?" I tease as I nudge him and he looks down at me, amusement evident in his eyes before his lips stretch out in a wide grin as he throws an arm around me and pulls me against him, ruffling my hair in the process.

"I promise you; they are worse than me. I'm actually quite – what's the word? Delightful." He readjusts himself on the couch and with his free hand, he takes some pringles out of the canister between his knees and shoves them into his mouth.

I make myself comfortable against him, my face warming up at the lack of distance between us, but he acts like this is the most natural thing in the world. It probably is. I have spent one too many nights cuddled up with Cece and watching some crime drama or sappy romance, and it didn't mean anything more than platonic friendship.

This is fine! Just two friends relaxing!

Without meaning to, I reach up to the heart locket hanging against his chest and fiddle with it. It's smooth and cold to the touch.

"Yeah. How was it like growing up? For you and Jase."

He knows I'm thinking about the fact that he was sent to a conversion camp. The thought of Mason locked away in some bigot camp makes my blood boil and I want to meet his dad and punch him in the face.

I'll never understand some parents. How can someone choose to have a kid, then start whining and throwing a tantrum over something as insignificant as who they want to date and/or have sex with? Like, their kid isn't a serial killer, so can they take multiple chill pills and focus on global warming or something? It's madness!

"We've always had each other's backs. We're so different, but similar and let me tell you, it can get really hard waking up and staring at your reflection every day. At first, it was awesome, but then the comparisons became worse. People would line us against each other and try to tell the difference. That was harmless until people started doing that to our grades. 'Look at your brother. He's so good at math. He's a computer genius. He's as fast as lightning. What are you doing with your life, Mason? You can't be a pretty face forever'." He sighs deeply. "But Jase – Jase would always say 'well dad, mom survived being a pretty face, and you're doing quite well dressing pretty faces for a living."