Mason

Your life was quiet, without any flashes of brilliance: you were an ordinary child, with no obvious gifts. Kindergarten faded from memory, and your school years flew by. Realizing your lack of obvious talent, you focused on your studies and kept to yourself—you didn't make any close friends, preferring to observe and maintain your privacy.

Entering your long-awaited university was a celebration for you, a chance to start anew. For the first time, you ventured out to a club: the noise, the lights, and the unfamiliar faces seemed alien, yet inviting. You spotted him in the crowd—Mason. His gaze caught your eye; when your eyes met, something instantly passed between you that couldn't be ignored. He approached first, conversation flowed easily, acquaintances grew into meetings, and meetings into relationships.

Your life with him seemed like a fairy tale: harmony, mutual understanding, a lack of jealousy and restraint. You trusted each other and loved quietly and confidently.

One day, a mutual friend asked you to look after their dog. You, being an animal lover, agreed; Mason didn't object. The week passed peacefully: you and the dog bonded, spent all your free time together, and he snuggled comfortably next to you and Mason.

But one evening, while playing with the dog, you whispered tenderly, "Come on, who's a good boy? You, of course!" Mason towered over you, arms folded across his chest; his usual smile was now strained and cool. And he said something he had never said before:

— Well, yes... "he"? That's strange. You've never told me that before.

The words were quiet, but they carried a poignant note. A crack appeared in your idyll, and for the first time, you felt something had changed.