The drive to the hospital was the most daunting journey Mason had ever committed.
It had surprised him when he decided the first person he needed, and wanted to speak to, was his mother. Moreover, he was certain she would feel the same way.

Still, Haneul's death and her accident had been major catalysts as to why things had taken such a downturn, and though he wasn't sure if he could forgive her, he still saught her clemency. She was his mother, and though Mason had decided that blood didn't weigh regards to the importance of relationships, the memories of his younger years wouldn't disappear. They were a part of him and had built him into the person he had become. To begin his future, he needed to let go of his past.

So there he sat, in the middle of the car park as the rain washed away the dirt and mud off the silver of his Toyota, his heart thrumming with each notion as he considered who he was going to see when he entered the hospital.

Though Iseul had reduced her drinking in recent weeks, before the casualty, Mason hadn't seen his mother sober since Haneul had passed away.
She could either be the exact person he remembered her as or entirely bitter and until he saw her, he wouldn't know.
It was that thought that persuaded him to release himself from his vehicle and walk the short distance to the hospital, and enter via the main entrance.

"Hi, I'm here to see Iseul Park; she was in Ortho," He stated to the young woman sitting across the main desk. Her eyes narrowed, likely not having recognised him due to his lack of visitation, but Mason was the male replica of his mother. Their similarities were uncanny, and the nurse seemingly made the same assessment as she nodded with a smile.

"Yes, she's still there," she confirmed after tapping her nails against the keyboard, and he bobbed his head in gratitude. He lingered for one additional moment, taking a mask from the box the nurse had pointed to, feeling the material against his skin foreign after so many months of not wearing it. Tracing the steps that he'd walked before, he ascended the stairwell, choosing to take the long route instead of the lift, though he found the new feeling of hope slowly begin to simmer, despite his attempts to clear his mind.

His mother was stationed in the same bed as she had two weeks ago, and after receiving permission, he moved the curtain to see her familiar eyes widen as he let the white shield conceal them in the small space.

"Mason?" Her shock was enough to allow guilt to melt the rigid walls protecting his heart, and when she reached out to him, he broke, finding comfort in her embrace.

His mother's embrace, her warmth and her smell, though slightly tainted with bleach, he quickly ignored that as he held her tight and felt his tears dribble down his cheeks.

"Oh Mason honey, it's okay, I'm fine, really," She promised, rubbing his back, and he refused to let go, fearing that he didn't know when he'd receive such a hug again.
She shifted in her bed, making room for him to sit so that he was no longer awkwardly standing, and he held on tight, resting his cheek against her warm chest as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He permitted a few moments to savour her cuddle before pulling away, wiping the water with his sleeve. "What's wrong with you? Dad said there were some complications?"

Iseul sighed, confirming the truth with a sigh before she offered him a grim smile. "It took me a little longer to wake up," she explained, "And the doctor's, and your father namely were worried,"

"They didn't think you'd pull through?' He asked, , and she nodded as horror washed over his features. "oh mum, why didn't anyone tell me? Are there any long term effects or?"

"Mason honey, breathe," She insisted, and he halted his breath, waiting for his mother to answer promptly, so that his anxiety didn't spike. The guilt he'd felt at the cliff had quadrupled, but he remained mute as his mother released another smile, running her good hand through his hair.

"I'm better," She nodded, "and very fortunate, I'll be having intensive physiotherapy for the next few months for my hand," Mason could only nod as he saw his mum lower her eyes and speak the words he had hoped she would express. "I've started rehabilitation too...for my problem," Iseul confessed. "It's a talking therapy with a group of people, and it's awkward and embarrassing, but I'm going to commit, I am am going to try, and I want to..."she inhaled deeply before correcting herself, "I am going to succeed."

He didn't have the words to say anything more. His mother had a long journey ahead of her, but he wouldn't allow her to pursue this path alone. She had his support, and he relayed that with his embrace, feeling comfort and gratitude from every beat in her chest. Mason was lucky that Iseul was alive, and now that his mother has returned, he knew he wanted to keep her close. She was his family.

They rested together for almost an hour, with little conversation. Iseul had become a whizz at general knowledge since her hospital stay, and they watched an episode of The Chase, commenting and shouting out answers despite the complaints of the elder man healing in the bed beside them, through the curtain. According to his mother, he was a veteran and, when he wasn't complaining, had a whole compilation of stories to relay. It was an additional comfort to hear that his mum at least had company in the time Mason had avoided visit and his father had gone back to work.

"So, have you given any thought to what you want to do after school?" His mother asked as the familiar theme tune announced the end of the show.

"Mum," His tone must have expressed the blame that was rotting his heart, but it seemed Iseul didn't want to hear it, and she was quick to interrupt him.

"No, Mason, I didn't ask for apologies or that you want to take back what you said. I understand...if driving in the Formula 1 isn't something you want to do,"

"But you invested so much money; dad sold half the business,"

"And that was your father's decision, believe me, we've had words, but this is your choice," She insisted. "So tell me about your singing. That's what you want to pursue, right?"

"I don't know," Mason confessed, concentrating on the blue spots that peppered the white sheets of the hospital bed. "I thought for a while it would be something I could do, but now...."

"Now?" She pressed, and he sighed, leaning his head against the pillow, staring at the harsh lighting that bounced off the whiteness of the walls. The back of his head was quick to ache in warning, but he persisted, sighing harshly as he relayed the truth.

"I tried to sing that night I told you and dad I didn't want to race anymore, and it just sounded...off. As if there was no personal connection to my voice anymore. I had made my decision, and I didn't have my family's backing; it was wrong."

"Well, things are different now," His mother assured him, "I back you and your dad will come around," Mason could see that she meant her words, but she wasn't his father's advocate; he was only a quarter way there. "I've heard you before," She added, successful in gaining his eye contact as his lips parted in surprise.
"You sleep in the room opposite me, I may have been drunk, but I wasn't deaf," She expressed, her lips tilting as humour flashed across her expression. It surprised Mason how easy it was for him to laugh about the past they had endured, but the sound bubbled from his chest, and it was real.

"I used to make videos; I was hoping someone would spot me," He shrugged, and Iseul grinned, her excitement exposing her yellowed teeth as a result of the substance abuse. Mason would be introducing him to the charcoal toothpaste Anya had sworn by, what felt like many moons ago, and the reminder caused his heart to clench.

"I want to see!" His mother demanded, and though shyness crept up his neck in the form of a blush, he located a random video and showed his mother, choosing to look away as she listened.
"It's beautiful," She described, squeezing his hand as it ended. "You'll find your voice eventually; you just need some time." The words were hardly different to Mr Kale's encouragement, and he nodded firmly, forcing himself to conjure some self-belief.

"You helped me, you know," Isuel added when he stuffed the mobile back into his pocket, and he frowned, awaiting her explanation as his mind buzzed with puzzlement. It seemed his mother had developed a habit of using dramatic sentence starters, but he refrained from raising this as he realised they were actually holding a conversation. He was speaking to his mother, and she wasn't crying...no, she was crying, and he immediately returned to reality as he called her name, and touched her arm.

"It was that night," She sniffled, "You spoke to me about Haneul... I thought it was a dream, but your father told me it was real. It was then that I decided to try and stop but-"

"It's okay ma, you're getting the help that you need now, and that's what is important."

"I should have been there for you," The past two hours of progress had seemingly been erased as Mason was forced to confront the version of his mother he had hoped had disappeared. Still, the difference here was that she was crying...for him, and it was this realisation that gave him the courage to love her and express that he held no blame. And that was the truth. His fears centred around being forgiven were erased when he realised his mother was well and alive. She was his mother, and one's thoughts were always different to how one felt. Mason hadn't been thinking at all, and a glance at his mum as she smiled back at him permitted him to lock away the negativity and throw away the key so no memory could haunt him. Once more, it was a reminder that he could change and accept that he still needed to make serious amends.

But first, Mason had his shift at the diner, and so with a heavy sigh and a genuine 'I love you', he crawled off the uncomfortable bed and returned to the car. The short walk ensured that he was drenched with rain, and he was still shivering when he arrived at the Sinclair's. The restaurant was far too busy for him to take a second to dry off, however, and he was quick to collect his apron and get to work.

Most of the consumers were regulars or residents of the town, but the group of rowdy men who had claimed several booths were indeed a surprise. Rye rarely had any visitors in the area, and Mason hadn't seen this group before. He hardly paid any of them any attention until he assisted the table beside them and he could hear their disgraceful remarks.

"That waitress is a pretty thing, isn't she-" A blonde man sporting a goatee that failed to obscure his age mused aloud.

"Sure is, it's a shame she's pregnant; we could have had a good time," A second one added as the table exploded with laughter.

They were words that made Mason sick to his stomach, and just as he was about to suggest he took over, Alison arrived to provide their drinks. And Mason was thankful that he stayed nearby. He saw everything.
With the wandering hand and the inappropriate touch, he was quick to act, just as Alison yelled her complaint.

"Get your hands off her," He demanded, gaining the attention of several tables nearby, but he didn't care. No person had the right to touch another without consent and grabbing Alison's wrist whilst she had attempted to withdraw from the group was just as wrong as committing so malicious, Mason couldn't even fathom the thought coherently.

"She's fine," One of the members defended, "he didn't do anything,"

"He's done enough," Mason responded firmly, "now pack up your things, and leave,"

"Woah, we're just enjoying a meal," A new voice instigated as Mason inhaled deeply, grateful that Alison had already disappeared. "We didn't mean to cause any trouble; we're sorry, alright,"
Mason retained his hardened gaze but nodded once, choosing not to fight.

He was already emotionally drained, and he didn't have the energy to start something unnecessary. The group would dine and leave, and he'd be happy never to meet them again. He met the scraggly blonde's ice blue eyes once more, in warning, and departed the table only to hear words that caused his blood to boil. "Bloody chink, think he can get away with talking to me like that-"

"What did you call me?" Mason demanded as he turned on his heel, and the same blonde smirked, standing to his full height, easily towering Mason with his build. A pair of footsteps sounded behind him, and he felt someone touch his arm, encouraging him to let the matter go.

Rye was a white majority town, but racial slurs were rare. Mason had heard them and moved on, but this man had evil written all over his heart, and it was taking everything that remained in Mason not to have an outburst. His best friend, who was standing beside him, however, had a much shorter tether to his anger, and when the man muttered the offensive slur once more, the first punch was thrown, and all hell broke loose.

A.N.
Happy Friday lovelies!
New week, new update! I hope you enjoy it, have a fantastic weekend,
Aamenah x