Why Mason Musso wears those red pants all the time
Mason stood in the dingy backstage dressing room, clad only in boxers. Shirts and pants were thrown about the room in a poor attempt to figure out what to wear on stage. He was in the middle of contemplating the pros and cons of a blue shirt when sudden banging came from the door.
“Mase! Hurry the fuck up! We gotta be on stage soon! What’s taking you so long? Answer me fuck face! That’s in I’m coming in!”
Giving Mason no time to answer, Trace threw the door open and barged in the room, fully dressed and slightly pissed.
“You are such a pris Mason, I swear!”
“Just because you can throw on whatever you like and still look good, doesn’t mean the rest of us can!”
Trace walked up behind Mason, wrapped his arms around Mason’s waist, and rested his head on his shoulder, looking at the little clothes left on the rack. While thinking, he began sliding one hand up Mason’s chest. Mason closed his eyes and leaned back just as Trace spoke.
“Wear the white shirt, there are black lights and it will look good. The red pants as well, you look hot in them and it shows off your ass.”
Trace closed off his statement with an open-palm smack to Mason’s backside before grinning and walking out of the room. Before he left, Trace turned and looked at him coyly.
“And the next time I barge in here, make sure the boxers are off.”
He winked and left a very confused, if not slightly turned on, Mason in the room.