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Chapter Five – Before the Silence
The rain started halfway through the night, tapping against Harry's window like a persistent memory. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open in the darkness.
It always came back to Mason.
Before the rumors. Before the fights. Before everyone turned their backs—Mason Jordan had been his best friend.
They were inseparable from middle school to sophomore year. Late-night gaming sessions, biking through the neighborhood till dark, building tree forts they never finished. They'd even planned to start a YouTube channel once, some silly gaming show with fake intros and dumb challenges.
Harry hadn't forgotten. He just didn't talk about it.
But tonight, the memory clawed its way back.
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Two years ago...
The gym was nearly empty, just the echo of a basketball bouncing in lazy rhythm. Harry sat on the bleachers, sketchbook in hand, pencil dancing across the page. Mason was at the free throw line, sweat on his forehead, grinning like a show-off.
"You gonna draw me dunking?" Mason called.
Harry smirked. "If I wanted to draw a trainwreck, I'd go to YouTube."
"Harsh," Mason laughed, then launched the ball. It hit the rim and rolled out.
"Told you," Harry muttered.
Mason jogged over, flopping onto the bench beside him. "You know, you should show people your stuff."
"No one cares," Harry replied.
"I care."
Harry glanced up, surprised. Mason was serious.
"You're really good, man," he said. "You could design games or comics or something. I mean it."
Harry didn't say anything. He just nodded, quietly grateful.
Those days felt like another life now.
---
Back to the present...
Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up, kicking the covers off.
Mason had been the first to betray him.
It started small—Harry noticed him pulling away, skipping their usual hangouts. Then came the lies. The cold stares. The day he'd been blamed for the fire alarm prank, Mason hadn't even looked at him. And later, when the rumor about the stolen test answers spread, Mason didn't defend him.
Not once.
Harry had begged him—just tell them I wasn't even there, you know I wasn't—but Mason only said, "It's better if I stay out of it."
That was the last real conversation they ever had.
---
The next morning, Sophie noticed the shadows under Harry's eyes. He looked exhausted, but something about his silence felt heavier than usual.
She didn't push.
Instead, she waited until lunch, then slid into her usual seat beside him.
"Hey," she said softly.
He didn't look at her. Just picked at his food.
"You don't have to talk," she added. "Just… I'm here."
He glanced at her finally. For a second, she saw the sadness buried under everything else.
"You ever lose someone who was still alive?" he asked quietly.
Sophie nodded slowly. "Yeah. My best friend stopped talking to me when I moved away the first time. We promised we'd stay in touch, but... she moved on. I didn't."
Harry didn't respond. But she could see in his eyes that he understood.
Something between them shifted in that moment—not loudly, but gently. Like a new page being turned.
For the rest of lunch, they didn't say much. But it was the first silence that didn't feel empty.