More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Thirty

My phone was ringing. 

I was in the middle of a much-needed deep sleep when I woke up to the blaring of my ring tone. I cursed myself for forgetting to put it on silent, especially when I cracked an eye open to glance at my too bright screen and saw an unknown number flashing across it. I was so tempted to ignore it and go back to sleep, but with a groan I accepted the call. 

"Hello?" I croaked, my voice groggy with sleep. 

I could hear brash techno music on the other end, which instantly made me think the call was a mistake. I shut my eyes and repeated the greeting, louder this time. 

"Rebecca? Beck, is that you?" a voice replied on the other end, shrill and panicky. It was also the last person I expected to be calling me in the middle of the night. 

"Liv?" My half-asleep brain was unable to hide the confusion in my tone. "What's going on?" 

"Look, I'm sorry for calling you like this, I know it's late," she rattled on, her pitch getting higher and higher. "But, um, have you heard from Mase tonight? Or, like, know where he is?" 

My heart was banging in my chest with sudden dread. At the mention of Mason's name I'd woken up properly. Sitting up straight, I squeezed my eyes shut. 

"No, why would I? What happened?" 

"It's probably no big deal, you know—" 

"Liv, what happened?" Frustration was growing in my chest, as was panic. "Where are you?" 

Her next words came out in a rush and I took a beat to fully process them. "We came to this event together and he got pretty drunk and then he just disappeared. And, like, I wouldn't worry normally, but I have his house keys and his wallet and he's not answering his phone and I just don't know where he is." 

Shutting my eyes again, I rubbed the space between my eyebrows. Was this a dream? I wanted to scream at Liv for taking Mason out the day before training – three days before a Champions League game – but I pushed aside my anger. 

"Okay," I said slowly. "Why are you calling me about this?" 

The music that had been blaring through the phone quietened, making me think Liv had stepped outside. She sighed. 

"He just said you guys had a fight and he was pretty upset about it." Unexpected warmth hit me at her words, overshadowing the alarm for a second. "I don't know, I thought he might have called you or something." 

"No, he hasn't." Liv swore on the other end of the line. "I'll try give him a call, but I doubt he'll pick up." 

"Wouldn't write it off so quickly." Her voice turned bitter, making me regret offering to help, but she carried on without a pause. "He's probably just gone home, but thanks anyway." 

"Why don't you go and check?" I couldn't hold back the scorn in my voice. 

Silence sounded. "Um, well, I can't really leave." Supressing frustration, I was about to rip into her, but she continued. "I know what you must think, but this is just what I do, okay?" 

"Okay, I'll call him." 

I told her I'd let her know, choosing to ignore her last comments. After hanging up, I stared at my phone for a long moment as I thought of my options. I could have just told Liv to sort it out herself, but the thought of Mason being in any kind of trouble left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. And even though I didn't know if I could do anything, I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try. Liv was right in saying he was probably just going home; he'd likely get there, realise he didn't have his keys, and go back to wherever the hell Liv was. Some satisfaction came from imagining him blaming this all on his girlfriend.