Page 26 of Second to None

I mostly let Mason handle the rest of the conversation, stuck in my own head, before we posed for a picture that Claire took against the Disney backdrop of a mediaeval Bavarian village. Emily was used to occasional interruptions like this and tended to bear them with an eye roll here and there, or by demanding some kind of sugary reward. I usually gave in to compensate for all those moments when she had to deal with my leftover fame—not great parenting, but there it was.

True to form, once the two women had wandered off, I bought some churros for Emily and Mason to share. We ambled on, my mind chasing shadows even as I tried to be in the moment. It was hard, though—thoughts tripping back to the open shock on Cass’s face at Jessica’s death, the darkness in his eyes. His low, achingly serious‘I would have been on the next flight.’

“Y’all right?” Mason asked in an undertone while Emily was distracted with one of those pressed coin machines. Because we desperately needed a souvenir that would get lost in the wash by Tuesday.

“Just thinking,” I said. “I know, I know—I’ll try not to break anything.”

He glanced at me sidelong, his mouth curving up. “You stole my punchline.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely.” He leaned a little closer, shoulder resting comfortably against mine. “Let me guess. It’s about Cass?”

There was little point in pretending with someone who’d seen me panic over hotel Wi-Fi speeds. “Did you know he wants to come out?”

Mason didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, he told me. But I can do a jaw-drop if you like?”

“You’re a true friend.”

My sarcasm was met with a sunny grin. ”You love me.”

“It’s my unfortunate lot in life.” I smiled back, voice gone stupidly soft. My sharper, mouthier teenage self would be so embarrassed. “Anyway, yeah. So. Cass, uh. He asked if I’d help him set the stage. Like, encourage some rumours.”

“Hangon.” Mason widened his eyes, all theatrics but for the persistent upwards tug to his mouth. “As in, be his fake boyfriend? Like some Hallmark Christmas special?”

Jesus, when he put it like that… I glanced at where Emily was squinting at the machine like it was a science project, her “Do I have to turn that thing? What happens if I turn it backwards?” drifting over. I focused back on Mason.

“Something like that, I guess. Just less rom-com, maybe. More a ‘the hunt is on’ media special.”

Mason’s amusement faded into something more sombre, almost sad. “You said no.”

I should have. Probably. But…dammit. Cass coming out now, at the height of fame rather than as some washed-up has-been like me… It would be lonely. Not that he didn’t have friends—people fell into his gravity like moths drawn to a flame. But no one would truly get it unless they stood right there by his side, just like no one could ever really understand the sheer madness the five of us had lived through.

I rocked back onto my heels. “He thinks I did.”

Mason’s gaze sharpened. “And did you?”

“No. I’m…” I hesitated, the words in my head like puzzle pieces that wouldn’t fit. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Mason nodded, a strange quirk to his expression as he studied me. “All right, let’s hear it. Pros and cons?”

“This is a big deal for him, and I’d love to help. He’s still… my friend.” It felt far too small for what Cass was to me, even now. His offer to pick an opening act for his tour? Nice, but I wouldn’t accept it.IfI decided to help him, that was. “But there’s Emily, right? I don’t want her mixed up in any of this. Or make her lie. Nothing like that.”

“Can’t it just be, you know, hanging out? But in public?” Mason tilted his head. “No need to confirm anything, right? So also no need to lie. Not like rumours about us ever needed much fuel. Could just be you and Cass having dinner out somewhere, and then you wait for the internet to set itself on fire. You’ll be engaged by breakfast.”

He wasn’t wrong, but it felt inadequate—like I’d be there for the easy part only to step out when it mattered.

“I mean, yeah. True that the rumours are an independent ecosystem.” I let my gaze slide away. A carousel spun slowly, its painted horses frozen in eternal gallop, one boy clinging to the pole as though it was a ride into the apocalypse. Me too, kid. Me too.

“But?” Mason prompted.

“Kind of the coward’s way out, isn’t it?”

He considered this. “That’s a bit harsh, I think. You’d still be out of your comfort zone.”

“Why—because I’d be spending solo time with Cass?” I’d meant for it to come out wry, a half-joke, only it twisted into something far more serious. Mason lowered his sunglasses for a brief, searching look.

“Is that a pro or a con?”

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