Someone wanted to see what the previous chapter: Mason's Birthday, would be like from Mason's POV and so you're wish is my command and delight!

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Mason rubbed the towel through his hair as he walked out of his bathroom and into his closet. He tossed the towel aside and unhooked one of the million and one white collared shirts from a hanger and put it on. As he buttoned it up, he heard knocking on his door. He didn't respond. A second later, his father stuck his head into the closet doorway.

"Good morning," the President said.

Mason jutted his chin to his father but that was the only greeting he gave. It was too early for him to pretend he was glad to see his father. Even though it had been two weeks, he still felt hurt over his father planning a state dinner on his birthday.

Despite the lack of warmth from Mason, his father entered the closet, his hands behind his back. Mason continued to get ready for school, using the excuse of searching for socks and his shoes as a reason to put his back to his father.

"I have a surprise for you," his father said.

Mason didn't answer, kneeling to lace up his shoes.

"I'm really sorry about the state dinner," his father said. "I wanted to make it up to you."

At this, Mason did lift his head.

"I know it will be short notice, but I had a birthday party put together for you at the Bradford hotel tonight. You can invite anyone you want."

Mason stood and crossed his arms. A birthday party at a hotel. Did he not get it? Mason hadn't wanted a birthday party on his birthday, he'd wanted a simple dinner with his parents, and that was it. Though how pathetic did that sound? He was now sixteen. What sixteen year old wants to spend time, much less a whole dinner, with his parents? Yeah, definitely not him.

"Sounds good," he said, turning away to grab his blazer.

Behind him, he sensed his father hesitate and then take a step back.

"Okay, I hope you have a good day at school," his father said.

"Yeah."

His father left and Mason stood motionless in the closet with one shoe still untied. A birthday party. What in the world would he do at a birthday party?

Mason stood there for so long that he hadn't moved when his mother appeared a few minutes later.

"Hey," she said.

Mason didn't know why but the First Lady using such a common and unpolished word like 'hey' always made him feel special. It helped him remember that the immaculate woman the world put on a pedestal was still his mom.

"Were you aware you were marrying an idiot or did you find out when it was too late?"

His mother let out a little breath as she crossed over to Mason. She took his shoulders and turned him to face her. With a half smile, she took one of the ties hanging on the rack and draped it around his neck.

"Your father, though brilliant in many other areas, oftentimes fails to see the simple solutions to the everyday problems."

"So he actually thinks I wanted a birthday party and not just to have dinner with the both of you?"

"Yes, because when he was growing up he wanted the birthday party and not the dinner."

"He expected that even when I told him exactly what I wanted?"

His mother finished tying the tie and held his arms. "I know. He also planned to have dinner with only the two of us but..."

"But he's the President and doesn't have time?"

"Yes."

Mason shook off his mother's hand even though his frustration wasn't at her and he knew that. Still, he wanted to get out of the closet, out of the family resident, out of the stupid White House.

"It doesn't matter," Mason said.

"Mason-"

"I'm going to school."

He reached his bedroom door but stopped when his mother merely touched his arm. He couldn't brush her off a second time, he loved her too much to let his mood hurt her.

He looked back at her. In a world of hundreds of people always seemingly working to give him what he wanted, she was the only person who knew what he needed.

She cupped his face and kissed his forehead, an action that meant he had to bend his head down to her, something he hadn't had to do a year ago. He was growing up but that didn't mean he was growing out of his need for her affection.

"I love you," she said.

Mason almost didn't say it because, after all, he was sixteen now. What kind of guy was he if he admitted out loud he loved his mother? No one did that.

But then again no one was around.

"I love you too," he said.

She smiled and Mason remembered the reason he always said it back, because he could see that the words meant the world to her. Like hearing her say it to him meant everything.

Smith waited for him in the main living room. After snatching up his backpack, he followed Smith to the car. The second they passed through the back gates, people crowded around the car. Mason leaned his head back and closed his eyes, blocking out the images of faces peering in at him, trying to steal a glimpse.

At school, Mason climbed from the car and headed towards the front doors, but Smith stopped him and pointed to his untied shoe. Mason bent down lacing it up.

When he righted himself, four students appeared to walk with him. For a brief moment, Mason almost let out his frustration on them but held it in. Instead, he started walking and a group formed around him.

"Dustin," Mason said. "I'm having a birthday party tonight at the Bradford hotel, tell whoever you think should be there."

Instantly, Dustin pulled out his phone and Mason knew within five minutes those in his inner circle and most of the outer circle would know about the party. They would already start planning their outfits, and be scrambling to find a gift that would make an impression on him. That was one upside to having a stupid birthday party, he would get presents.

Not that he needed anything, it merely entertained him to see what people thought he would like.

As he walked through the school hall, people called out to him or waved, some he noted with eager expressions. Those were the ones who had heard about the party but hadn't received a text about it. He knew he'd be barraged for the rest of the day with people trying to get on his good side to snag an invite.

As he glanced around he spotted the one person he could count on not trying to get an invite and not caring that she wouldn't.

Something about that thought made Mason cut away from his friends and held up a hand so they wouldn't follow him. He approached Carter at her locker and found all he could think about was that day two weeks ago when she'd gone with him to the Lincoln memorial. It hadn't been a good day but that specific part of the day had been less bad than the rest.

"Owens," he said. "It's my birthday."

He wondered if she'd remember that his birthday was exactly two weeks ago. Maybe she wouldn't. What was he thinking? It was Owens of course she would remember. She weirdly remembered everything.

"I apologize," she said. "If I'd had known I would have worn black to morn the occasion."

She was playing it like she didn't remember. Well, that was fine with Mason.

"Hilarious. My sides are killing me from how hard I'm laughing," Mason said.

Carter didn't look at Mason as she exchanged her notebooks. "I'll work harder next time so they finish the job."

How did this girl manage to irritate him and entertain him at the same time?

"You are a bucket of happiness I wish someone had tossed out," he said.

"Where would you get your laughter from if I wasn't here?"

"I don't know, the death of a beloved pet."

"If that's a hint at what you're asking for your birthday you're going to have to hint to someone else," Carter said, closing her locker. "I don't do birthday gifts to people I don't like."

She walked away but Mason easily caught up with her. He didn't know why he followed, with the reception he'd just received she wasn't likely to accept what he was about to offer. Yet still, Mason kept pace with her.

"I told you it's my birthday for a reason," he said.

"To garner attention and somehow make me care that you were born. Not gonna happen."

"No, it's because I'm having a party tonight at the Bradford hotel ballroom."

Mason knew he could leave it at that, make that be all he said about his birthday party but he realized it made no sense for him to be inviting her. They weren't friends. The only definition he found fit their dynamic was antagonists. So why would he be asking her to his birthday party?

Why was he asking her to his birthday party?

"And for some reason," he said. "My father believes it's diplomatic if I invite everyone in my class. I say it's a way to pander to the parents of my classmates but he denied it when I said this."

It wasn't a tactic Mason thought his father would ever use and knew he never had but somehow he didn't care at that moment.

"Good to know," Carter said. "No need to feel like he's pandering to my dad, I won't be going."

Mason stopped and Carter continued on. He knew she wouldn't want to go and yet hearing her adamantly say it felt... He wasn't sure. But for some unknown reason to himself, he hurried forward to catch up with her again. Which was stupid, he should let it be the end of it and go back to people who liked him. Or people who gave the illusion they did.

But no, instead he found himself talking again.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Go to a party for someone I don't care about and be surrounded by people I don't like at a place that I don't feel any attachment to and spend hours mindlessly ignoring everyone involved? You're right, how can I say no to that?"

"But you could make fun of everyone there."

Somehow that was the only argument he could think of.

"I can do that here," Carter said, "without feeling the need to buy someone a gift they won't like."

"You don't have to buy me a gift."

"Great. Then I still won't come and won't feel guilty about not caring about getting you something."

Mason grabbed Carter's arm, stopping her from walking. He felt the shift as everyone cut around them. He understood who he was, and the position he held at school, and still at times like that he was amazed by it. Simply because of who he was people wouldn't dare brush against him or tell him to move aside. But then again that was the way his world worked. The only one who seemed to not care for following that world's rules was Carter.

"You should come," Mason said. "I know how you love making people miserable with your presence."

Carter stared at him and he had the uncanny feeling that she was seeing more in him than he wanted her to. If she did, it was his own fault, he'd gone after her, he'd stopped her from walking on.

"You sound like you actually want me there," she said.

Mason let go of her arm and laughed as he took a step back. Yeah, talking to her had been a mistake. What had he been thinking? "Only passing on my dad's wishes. Don't go looking for something that isn't there, Owens."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Enjoy your party, Mason."

Carter turned away and Mason stood there, still the eye of a storm of students that would always create a gap around him.

"I will," he said but knew no one who heard him would believe him.

*********

Mason felt the car stop but didn't move from where he lay spread out in the backseat. He continued to stare up at the ceiling and didn't give any sign of planning to move. In the front seat, Smith turned around and looked back at Mason.

"We're here," Smith said.

"I'm aware," Mason said. "That doesn't change my stance on this entire event."

Smith nodded once and faced forward again. Neither he nor the driver said anything. Mason knew this acceptance of his refusal to go to his own birthday party wouldn't last long. Knowing this, he decided to savor the short amount of time he had by doing nothing.

A buzz emanated from the front and Mason turned his head as Smith answered his phone.

"Yes. We're outside."

Mason peered back at the ceiling knowing what was coming next. He didn't understand how spending the entire night in the car wasn't acceptable. Didn't having a birthday mean that a person should be able to do whatever he wanted? Though technically it wasn't his birthday anymore so maybe that's where the loophole came in.

The door to the backseat opened but Mason didn't move. He knew exactly who stood in the opening, he could smell her subtle jasmine perfume. He thought it unfair that a woman so intimidating should smell so nice. It was disarming. Though maybe that was the entire point.

"Good evening, Mr. Douglas," April said.

"Hello, April," Mason said.

"Are you planning to get out of the car any time soon?"

April's voice, no matter the situation, always sounded calm and controlled.

"I hadn't planned on it," Mason said.

"I see," April said. "Just to be clear, you plan to let your two hundred current guests celebrate you without your presence."

"Seems they would do that whether I'm there or not."

"I see. And all the time and energy dozens of people have put into making this night special for you, should I let them know that instead of appreciating their hard work you spent the night in the back of a car?"

Mason raised his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really good at guilt trips?"

April smiled pleasantly at him. "We look forward to seeing you inside, Mr. Douglas."

She closed the door and Mason shook his head. "Does that woman scare anyone else?"

"Yes," both Smith and the driver said.

At least it wasn't just him. Mason unbuckled his seatbelt and clambered out of the car. Smith claimed the spot beside him and the car drove away. Once they passed through the barricade of Secret Service agents, they were directed to a ballroom.

Inside, Mason found that April had instructed her staff to go all out. The place didn't look like a ballroom but more of a nightclub with flashing lights, pounding music coming from a DJ stand, and a dance floor crammed with people. Along with the club vibe were tables filled with food and guarded by servers ready to help.

Mason scanned the room, looking for a spot that was most desirable. He spotted it and half a second later realized it had already been discovered by someone else.

He stood motionless, surprised but strangely relieved. A feeling he didn't fully understand or like. Especially when it was attached to the sight of this specific person. But still, that was the only optimal spot.

"I can't get lost in a room surrounded by agents," Mason told Smith. "You can find someone to talk to."

"I'll be this door," Smith said.

Mason knew it was both a statement of fact and a warning that Mason couldn't escape the party without passing by Smith.

Mason shrugged and cut towards the back corner. Despite the mass of people technically there to celebrate him and his birthday, no one seemed to see him or if they did didn't care to even stop him. That worked fine for Mason, he didn't even want to be there.

He rounded the dessert table to where Carter sat with a tray of food in front of her.

"What are you doing, Owens?" he asked.

Carter didn't answer. Instead, she stabbed a piece of pineapple. Mason hadn't been aware that someone could make a simple action so threatening. But since he knew there were multiple agents spread through the room and they weren't likely to watch him get murdered by a toothpick, he grabbed a nearby chair and sat.

He didn't say anything to Carter as he picked up a skewer and poked it into a marshmallow. What was there to say? He didn't know why she was there. But since she'd hidden in a dark corner he felt she might have the same level of desire to be at that party as he did.

Eventually, after they'd spent a considerable amount of time doing nothing but inhaling chocolate-coated food, Carter spoke. Which was unfortunate. They'd had a good thing going, why ruin it?

"Why are you having this party if you're not going to be a part of it?" Carter asked.

Mason saw no reason to lie. Besides, Owens had an uncanny ability to see through his lies.

"I didn't want this party," he said.

"I find that hard to believe. Everyone is here to celebrate the fact that you were born and on top of that giving you gifts you don't need."

"And yet, I'm sitting here with you and no one seems to notice."

Mason leaned forward and stabbed a piece of fruit. He hadn't meant to be that honest. How pathetic did that sound?

"Why have the party?" she asked.

"It's my dad's way of trying to make up for the state dinner we had on my actual birthday."

"Ah." Carter poked a piece of brownie and to his surprise angled the end of the skewer towards him but without really looking at him. "You should try the brownie. It's good."

He plucked it off and put it on the end of his skewer. "Chocolate on chocolate. That is good. You should try the apricot."

Carter did and nodded appreciatively.

"I didn't get you a present," Carter said.

"That sounds like you."

"I wouldn't even know what to get you."

Mason paused. He knew he would be getting hundreds of expensive items. Items he knew people would try to use as a way of winning favor with him. And yet what he wanted he knew no one would get him. "An old laptop computer. That's what I would have liked."

"Not a new one?"

"It's not fun to take apart a new one."

Carter nodded and Mason stuffed a strawberry into his mouth. He'd shared too much. They weren't friends, why in the world had he told her that? It wasn't like she cared and he didn't want her to. Exchanges with Carter were better when they had sharp points attached to every sentence.

Leaning forward, Carter plunged her skewer into a grape that nearly exploded. Now that, he thought was a threat. Though he didn't know why, she hadn't been the one to make the mistake of giving away too much information.

"Violent much," he said.

"You know this about me."

"Yeah and a reason I don't get close to you."

Though he said it, Mason wondered if that were true since somehow out of all the people at this party he was alone with her in a dark corner.

"You should go enjoy your party," Carter said.

Carter didn't look at him when she said this and Mason didn't fully understand the barrier that seemed to form between them. He was grateful to it, better keep that in place than form some sort of friendship. Owens and friendship, an oxymoron if he'd ever heard one.

"If it's my party that means I can do anything I want," he said. "I want to do nothing but stay here and eat chocolate."

"I don't like you enough to talk to you," she said.

"Good, you talking gives me tinnitus."

"Whenever you talk, I get a migraine."

This felt comfortable, bickering with no chance of connection.

Mason put his finger in his ear and wiggled it. "See there it goes, this high-pitched whining that never goes away."

"Easily solved," Carter said, putting a chocolate-covered cookie into her mouth.

"Now choke on it and all my problems will be solved."

Still chewing, Carter glared at him and he grinned back at her. One had to accept Owens' glare with levity or there was a legit fear of being cowed by it.

"We both know your problems go beyond me," Carter said. "It goes to your father and the issues you have there."

Mason didn't respond, instead found the closest item and ate it. There were times when verbally fighting with Owens felt almost enjoyable. Then she'd say something and he was reminded she had a knife for a tongue.

"You're right, I should enjoy my party," Mason said, standing up. "Stay here, Owens. I want to always know what spot to avoid."

Mason walked away from the table, searching the hundreds of faces in the room. When he spotted the specific one he looked for, he cut his way over. Shelby beamed at Mason when he stopped beside her.

"Hi!" she said. "Happy birthday!"

Mason didn't return the smile or care to acknowledge the sentiment.

"Do you want to go make out with me in a closet?" he asked.

Shelby's smile faltered and she cocked her head.

"You have five seconds to answer or I'll find someone else," Mason said.

"Okay."

Mason took her hand and led her towards the ballroom doors. At them, he found his way barred by Smith and another agent.

"Where are you going?" Smith asked.

"To make out with this girl in a closet," Mason said.

"Mason," Shelby whispered and tugged on his hand reproachingly.

Mason ignored her and continued to stare at Smith.

"If you don't let us out, I will find other ways of leaving."

With a sigh, Smith said something to the other agent, who then left. For a full minute, Mason stood there holding Shelby's hand and staring at Smith. Smith stared back with almost disapproving eyes but Mason didn't care enough to feel the effect. The agent returned.

"It's clear," he said.

Smith guided Mason and Shelby out of the ballroom and down a hallway to an empty closet. He gestured to them and Mason pulled Shelby inside.

"I have to keep guard outside," Smith said.

Mason figured Smith said this as an apology to Shelby more than information to Mason since Mason knew this and didn't care.

"Fine," he said and closed the door.

The closet was a linen closet and almost the size of Mason's bathroom. Those two facts were the only ones Mason noted before he turned to Shelby and started kissing her.

Part of him knew that he should feel bad for using her to forget his current problems but he didn't want to care. He knew if his mother found out she'd be disappointed in him. But he trusted Smith not to give him away.

After a minute, where Mason had edged Shelby back against a shelf of tablecloths, she gently pushed him back.

"Mason," she said softly.

Mason didn't like that tone, it was kind. He didn't want kindness, not when he was fully aware of how he was using her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I thought it was pretty obvious," he said. "Though if it wasn't I'm not doing a very good job."

Shelby put a hand on Mason's chest. "I'm asking what is going on with you."

Mason took a step back, breaking away from her touch.

"Why does something have to be going on for me to want to make out with a hot girl?"

Shelby sighed and Mason wanted to roll his eyes, how transparent was he being right now that even Shelby could see it?

"You forgot that I've known you for years," she said. "I know when you're not acting yourself. You can talk to me, you know." She reached out and touched his arm. "I like you, Mason. You know that. I want to be someone you can talk to."

"And that's why you agreed to come here with me?"

She smiled shyly in answer. Her smile bloomed brighter when Mason took her hand but faded as he led her back to the closet door. He opened it and ushered her out.

"Enjoy the party, Shelby," Mason said.

He nudged her out and before Smith could say anything, Mason shut the door again. Dropping a couple of blankets onto the floor, he sank down and laid out. The door opened and Smith entered. Despite his bulky size, Smith easily lowered himself to the floor beside Mason.

"Do you like your father, Smith?" Mason asked.

"My father died in action when I was twelve."

Mason draped one arm over his eyes. "That is a terrible response because now I can't moan and complain about mine since you probably wish yours was still alive."

"I do have you there."

Neither of them said anything for a long while.

"Did your father understand you when he was alive?" Mason asked.

"Not all the time. But I think every son hits that with his father."

Mason nodded because he didn't know what to say. It felt that his father and him never understood each other.

"I don't want to go back to the party," Mason said.

"Okay."

Mason lowered his arm. "That easy?"

"As long as you go back for the cake and happy birthday song then you can stay in here."

"Okay. Will you tell my mother?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No. But she'll find out from someone I guess it would be better that it's from you."

"Then I'll explain it to her."

"Thanks." Mason laid his head back down. "Can you keep out the Shelby part of it?"

"Yes, though that means you apologize to the girl tomorrow."

Mason sighed. "Fine."

He closed his eyes and even though he could hear the music playing in the ballroom, sensed the vibration of hundreds of people dancing, all he felt was the loneliness around him.

But then he felt a small squeeze on his shoulder and he knew he wasn't completely alone.

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Oh muffin top!

(Because you're the top of my list of best readers ever! 🥰)

Okay, be quick about it, what are your thoughts? 💬💭🗯🎉

As for me my thoughts are as follows:

• Oh my gosh why is Mason so damaged!

• Awwww Mason loved his mom! He's a mama's boy in the best way. Too cute ☺️

• Dang! Carter be savage! But this we always knew.

• Oooh I like April!

• Boy, that's your bestie and we all know this, that's why you're sitting with her.

• Carter! For reals! You just had to go and say that! Jeez girl 🤦🏽‍♀️ sometimes you drive me bonkers.

• Oh Mason don't do that! Be better than this.

• Shelby, girl you ain't gonna get him to talk but to move along.

• Awww Mason has Smith. That's nice. ☺️ Also poor lonely Mason 😢

Yup those are my thoughts. And the one big take away from this whole to me is how even if two chapters have the same event it's so different seeing it from Carter's POV and Mason's POV. So interesting to me! Same coin, two different sides.

Vote, comment, follow! As always I will continue to write one shots till the end of time so if there are ones that you want just hang in there I will eventually get to them!

Shout out comments from Rethinking the Past

😂❤️

They really are the true OGs

Awww ☺️