CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
MASON
Coach didn’t let us leave after practice.
Nobody complained this time.
That was the weird part.
Even Andre stayed quiet.
We were all sitting in the locker room, gear still on, waiting like something had already been decided for us.
Coach finally walked in with his arms crossed.
“No more reacting,” he said.
That was it.
No buildup.
Just that.
Then he looked at me.
“You’re at the center of it now.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew what he meant.
He wasn’t talking about basketball anymore.
He was talking about everything else.
The media. The comments. The narrative. Rowan.
Luca shifted slightly beside me.
Coach continued.
“You don’t get to control how people interpret you. You only control what you give them.”
A pause.
“And right now, you’re giving them too much without realizing it.”
That hit differently than before.
Because it wasn’t about mistakes anymore.
It was about presence.
ROWAN
Bennett handed me a printed brief.
“Final NYC instructions,” she said.
No emotion.
Just procedure.
I opened it.
My eyes stopped immediately.
Assigned Feature Subject: Mason Reed — Final Pre-Departure Profile Piece
Not interview.
Not draft.
Final piece.
My stomach tightened slightly.
Mia saw my face instantly.
“Oh,” she said. “That’s escalation.”
I didn’t answer.
Because it was.
Not dramatic escalation.
Structural.
Official.
Locked in.
My phone buzzed.
Mason.
Mason:
Coach just said I’m the center of everything now.
I stared at that.
Then replied:
Rowan:
Same here.
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
This feels like it’s closing in.
That was the first time he said it like that.
Not annoyed.
Not defensive.
Just aware.
MASON
After everyone left, I stayed.
Gym lights off.
Just me and the echo.
Coach didn’t come out this time.
He didn’t need to.
Everything he said was already sitting in my head.
You only control what you give them.
I thought about Rowan.
Not as distraction.
Not as problem.
As presence.
That was the issue.
She wasn’t noise.
She was part of the structure now.
My phone buzzed.
Rowan.
Rowan:
I have to write the final piece soon.
I stared at it longer than usual.
Then typed:
Mason:
Don’t make it something it’s not.
Three dots.
Rowan:
I’m not trying to.
That didn’t reassure me.
Because I believed her.
ROWAN
Serena didn’t joke when I told her.
She just sat down.
“That’s it then,” she said.
“What’s it?”
“You’re officially inside the story.”
I frowned. “Stop calling it that.”
“It is one,” she said simply.
My phone buzzed again.
Mason.
Mason:
We leave for NYC tomorrow.
That stopped everything.
Not metaphorically.
Actually stopped.
Tomorrow.
It wasn’t abstract anymore.
It was happening.
I typed:
Rowan:
I know.
Pause.
Rowan:
Are you ready?
Three dots.
Longer than usual.
Mason:
No.
That honesty sat heavy.
Then:
Mason:
But I’m going anyway.
MASON
I packed late.
Didn’t know why I was dragging it out.
Like delaying movement would change outcome.
It wouldn’t.
Luca texted me once.
Luca:
Don’t overthink it.
I didn’t reply.
Because that advice was already too late.
My phone buzzed.
Rowan.
Rowan:
Tomorrow we should pretend we’re normal.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Typed:
Mason:
We’ve never been normal.
Rowan:
True.
Pause.
Rowan:
Then just… survive it.
That word stuck.
Survive.
Not succeed.
Not perform.
Survive.
ROWAN
I couldn’t sleep at all.
Not even a little.
I packed and repacked my bag twice.
Serena watched from the doorway.
“You’re nervous,” she said.
“No.”
“You are.”
I stopped.
“…Yeah,” I admitted.
That surprised even me.
My phone buzzed.
Mason.
Mason:
I’m outside my place and I don’t want to go in yet.
I stared at that.
Then replied:
Rowan:
Same.
And for a moment—
it felt like we were in the same place even if we weren’t.