One Week, chapter 2
It’s been one week since Trace asked Mason to share the hotel room, and Trace hasn‘t left his side since. Trace has become severely withdrawn and only speaks when spoken too. He spends most of his time leaning against Mason and staring out the bus’s window. Mason is extremely worried, as are the others, but Mason knew why Trace was acting out of sorts. He said nothing though, knowing that Trace needed to face these emotions himself, but soon, the shows were being effected. Trace just wasn’t into it anymore, and after their last show for the week ended, Mason pulled him back onto the bus while Anthony and Blake went… somewhere. The were talking about groupies so Mason tuned them out and waved them off. Mason went to speak to Trace, but found him sitting on the couch, looking out the window, staring at nothing in particular.
“Trace… Trace? Trace… dude, look at me. Trace. TRACE CYRUS PICK YOUR FUCKING HEAD UP WILL YOU?”
Mason immediately felt horrible for screaming at him like that, but fuck if nothing in Mason’s head was working right anymore. Mason was still having thoughts of the dressing room incident two weeks ago and he could stop staring at Trace. Mason often caught himself checking out Trace’s ass.
“What do you want, Mason?”
Mason looked down at Trace on the couch. Crouching onto the floor, Mason wrapped Trace into a bone-crushing hug. He felt the tears stinging his eyes, but he fought to not let them fall.
“I want you to talk to me Trace…”
Trace’s eyes widened. He couldn’t see Mason, but he heard the strain in his voice. Trace knew he was worrying the guys, but he didn’t know Mason was taking it this hard. He just couldn’t handle things anymore. He slowly wrapped his arms around Mason, letting his head drop onto Mason’s shoulder.
“Mace… I just can’t do it anymore…”
“Can’t do what?”
“Anything! Everything! I can’t deal with it anymore…”
“Why, Trace? Give me one solid reason.”
“Because I can’t do things alone. And that’s all I’ll ever be.”
Trace squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a few tears leak past and roll down his cheeks, dripping onto Mason’s shirt. Mason was absolutely confused. What did trace mean, he was alone? He pulled away, placed his hands on Trace’s shoulders, and stared into his eyes.
“Trace. You’re fucking freaking me out. You aren’t alone.”
“Yes I am, Mason.”
Mason was startled by the force Trace’s voice had. He was even more startled by the fact that Trace said his whole name, and not ‘Mace’. Trace only called him ‘Mason’ when he was angry or about to kill himself, and right now, Mason didn’t know which one it was, or both.
“Trace, I’m still here. You were alone, would I be?”
“You’re here, but I’m alone. I’ll always be alone. When Metro Station has run it’s course, you’ll run off, get married, forget about me, and I’ll be alone, just like I am now. Don’t you get it Mason? I’m unlovable…”
Mason couldn’t believe what Trace was saying. He knew that no matter what was going on, Trace would never say those things out loud. There was something very wrong with him, and Mason was going to fix it because, fuck if he didn’t adore this boy. He didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but he knew he was infatuated with Trace. Everything the skinny, tattooed boy did, he couldn't get enough of. He also knew that if he didn’t do something now, he’d never get another chance.
“I’ll never leave you Trace, ever.”
“Yes you will I know you wi-”
“I will never leave you.”
“You say that now but-”
Mason had to shut Trace up, so he did it the only way he knew how. Leaning forward, he caught Trace’s lips with his in a searing kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds and looked at him.
“I.”
Kiss.
“Will.”
Kiss.
“Never.”
Kiss.
“Leave.”
Mason moved his hands from Trace’s shoulders up to his face, brushing his thumbs over his cheek to wipe away the tears. He looked hard into Trace’s eyes, wanting any kind of reaction from the boy. The sat in silence for awhile, before Trace let out a slow breath.
“I’m not California, Mace, you’ll leave eventually.”
At that last statement, Trace roughly pushed Mason off of him, stood, grabbed his jacket, and left the bus. Mason stayed on the floor where he landed. He wanted to run after him, to apologize, wanted to have Trace in his arms, wanted to be able to do something, anything. But he did nothing. Just kept on sitting on the floor, finally allowing the tears to fall and cried.
Mason was hopelessly in love with a boy who had lost faith in that emotion.