Masque (boyxboy)

22

~Jaden~

I knocked timidly on the door of the master bedroom, and was answered by the tender voice of my mother.

I pushed the door open and walked inside with a shy smile. "Mom," I called.

She sat up on the bed. Her curly hair was up in her usual bun and she was wearing her elegant nightgown. "Jaden," she acknowledged back with a grin. "I was just about to come check on all my little angels."

I folded my arms in amusement. 'I'm not little, Mom."

"I know, but I miss you guys." She climbed off the bed, fidgeting with her fingers. "You were right you know? About Raina."

My eyebrow hiked up. "What about her?"

"She doesn't remember who I am to her."

I slowly nodded then shrugged uneasily. "Mom, she's only five."

"Five-year-olds recognize their mothers." She swallowed, averting her eyes and shaking her head as if she couldn't believe any of it. "And Emery... she used to love coming to this room to pester me about hair, food, makeup and fashion. She never talked about boys; she thought they were all gross." A soft reminiscent smile graced her face, her beauty not marred by age or drugs.

"She sure does now," I assured, rolling my eyes at the thought. "Emery really wanted you to come back. She was looking forward to it honestly until... until it became just a fantasy. And now you're here. It's possible she just doesn't know how to talk to you."

"She knows it wouldn't be the same," Mom understood, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Just be there for her. Take her shopping or something; she'll lower her guard in two minutes. As for Raina... well, you're her mom whether she remembers that or not. So be her mother. I can't tell you how to do that."

"I'm your mom too, Jaden."

"Yeah..." I scratched the back of my head.

"So what can I do for you tonight?" She rested against the bed with her palms caressing the sheet underneath her and smiled at me.

"Well, I'm working on a certain number for recitals on November the 18th. I could use some help and a couple pointers from an expert violinist. If only I knew one..." My eyes scoured the room dramatically and she chuckled then wagged her first finger at me.

"I'm no expert, but let's see what I can do. Bring the violins."

***

That was it.

The world had ended, and everybody felt the impact.

Homecoming weekend hadn't even arrived yet.

Corbyn King Bee Starr was wearing a sweatshirt. Yes, it was true. One single strand of his hair was lugubriously out of place. His ever flawless skin had the slightest of stress spots right along his polished, highlighted cheekbone. And if one were to look carefully and closely, the faint line underneath his eye told an unmistakable tale: he received less than eight hours of sleep last night. Maybe even missed his afternoon beauty rest.

It was unthinkable.

"He looks... awful," I shuddered, standing next to Kari, Tiana, and Mae that Wednesday morning, watching Corbyn march and shove past students with determination in his stride. Brooklyn and another of his minions were busy carrying his belongings, trying to match his pace.

"Something's different about him," Kari noticed, tilting her head as she tried to figure it out. "He's on edge." My phone buzzed twice in my hand.

"The sweatshirt, dummy," Tiana nudged her arm.