Somewhere In Month One

The Master received an envelope, the first letter. There was enough stationery in every room, nothing ever got left out that could guarantee excuses throughout the competition.
Like someone being cheeky enough to say they didn't write a letter because they couldn't find paper.

It was a plain envelope with nothing written on the outside so the Master opened it.

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Dear Daddy,

I think it was really sweet of you to offer to teach the others how to cook, I don't think you'd appreciate me calling you sweet so after this, I won't.

I feel as if I owe you the truth, you asked me the other night why I'm here and you were right. I lied to you, and for that I'm sorry. I hope you can understand that I can't tell you that.

I'll make you a cheesecake okay?

Yours for as long as you want me,
Pierre

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Pierre sat at the steps of the gazebo as he wondered what to do. His first target was only a few feet away tending to some flowers in the garden. The garden that had first captured his heart the first time they arrived in the mansion.

The old looking man set his watering can down and picked up a rake. Pulling all the dead flowers and dried leaves that had fallen to the ground to one side.

Pierre gripped his hands really tight. As he got up, he convinced himself that this wasn't as hard as he thought it was and somehow finally convinced himself to try.

Steady steps made their way to where the gardener worked. "Can I help with this?" Pierre asked, picking up the watering can.

He hoped the gardener couldn't see how nervous he was. The old man, who had been humming, stopped to acknowlege Pierre and his kind eyes brought him some calm.

"Oh- no no sir, don't trouble yourself-"

"It's no trouble, believe me, I want to," said Pierre.

The old man's eyes widened but he didn't argue further. He nodded. "You can start where I've finished," he smiled. "That way we'll be done at the same time."

Pierre couldn't be more grateful. The gardenias opened beautifully next to buds that were taking a little longer to blossom. The first drops of water hit the beautiful white petals as they bobbed a little with the force of the stream.

"Why do you want to help?" the old man asked.

Pierre couldn't exactly tell him he had to look good in-front of him. Or that he needed his approval. So he said the next real truth. "I like gardening."

The old man hummed and Pierre felt the need to continue. "I always did the gardening back home. My maman showed me."

"Home seems far away. I'm guessing you're French?"

"That is right."

The old man whistled. "That's a long way from home son."

Son? Yes!

He didn't know what else to say, it didn't help that the old man had paused and was now sort of leaning on the rake, giving his attention to him as if he was saying the most interesting things.

He nodded again like he understood. "Come on then son, let's move over to the carnations. These bloom most beautifully when the spring finally settles in."

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The night before, Jet had been expecting the Master to be a pain in the ass again. And he didn't prove him wrong.

There was only one thing he was wrong about. He thought they'd fight again, the push and pull that seemed to come naturally between them. He thought everything was going to go through the path his mind had prepared, but the Master had showed him that he had only been let off easy the first time around.

He should have known when his hands were held up against the headboard. The Master had tilted his chin upwards to look at him. "You look surprised, little cub."

Jet had wanted so badly to spit on his face. "I told-"

"I didn't ask you to speak," the Master said. He'd clamped a hand over Jet's mouth and continued with what he was saying.

"The last time you were here, I let you go, you slammed the door, I let you disrespect me. And now, you're going to say sorry, with a cherry on top if you like."

"Maybe in hell," said Jet immediately his mouth was set free.

"Good thing then little cub, because that's where I'm taking you."

Jet wanted to tell him he wasn't fazed, he was born in hell and has been living in it till this day, but the Master seemed to have his own brand of the netherworld.

The tattooed man had been teased the whole night, and not in the nice way. It was utterly cruel. The Master seemed to have the patience of a saint.

Jet had been in conflict with his body. His mind loathed people like him, people who tried to make him submit, who thought they could control him with a word. But his body had betrayed him.

He watched in horror as his dick had risen to the occasion as if seeking out the Master's touch. It had become painful, until the head of his cut member had changed to a purplish red color. And then the master stopped, ignored him like he didn't matter. It was like cold water poured all over him.

After the third time, he'd had enough. He'd gripped the Master's wrist while he'd tried to move away from him. Jet couldn't look him in the eye. Still, he held onto his hand and didn't let go.

Jet was not about to beg, it was never in his agenda but once again, he betrayed himself. "Just, please..."

"Please what?" the Master laughed. "Where's that tough guy energy?"

"I need to come... please-"

The devil chuckled. "Tonight isn't about getting you to beg, I couldn't care less if you did."

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. I really... really need to-"

"Ah, there's my fierce cub. That wasn't so hard was it?" said the man responsible for all his frustration and then some.

Fuck him! Fuck him eleven ways to Mars.

All it took was a few tugs from the Master's strong hand and he was coming like a bullet train on a mission.

Jet still couldn't get it out of his head. And he hated himself more for the fact that he had held on to the Master as his traitorous body convulsed and shuddered.

He'd shamelessly buried his face in his neck and inhaled. Apart from all the groaning and cursing. The Master had reduced him to a needy fool, and he hated himself for that.

It weighed greatly on the reasons why the Master was a dead man when he left this place.

And now he'd managed to mess up the task. Everyone he talked to seemed to get pissed by something he said. Some just seemed really uncomfortable with him. He didn't know what it was but he gave up after the fourth person he talked to.

Stupid task. He thought in resignation.

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Zel didn't need to try. Everyone doted on him. The  truth was that, as soon as he got around to talking to anyone, he forgot all about the competition. He was genuinely interested in everything they had to say. and no matter who it was, he always managed to make them laugh.

After talking to probably the fifteenth person, that was when it hit him. "Uh oh," said Zel with a look that described the word upset.

"What is it?" the pretty older woman doing the laundry asked.

"I totally forgot this was a game! I mean you guys are all so interesting and I forgot I was supposed to win your favour and now-" Zel gasped.

He shouldn't have said that, he didn't even mean it that way.

"No no no! I do want to talk to you! It's just... I don't know, does this make me a bad person?" Zel was really frustrated as his eyebrows involuntarily drew together.

The lady laughed. "I don't think you could be a bad person even if you tried."

Zel's frown disappeared. "You really think so? So like, you like me?"

"Awww I just want to mush those adorable cheeks! I liked you from the moment you said hi," she looked at Zel with so much affection despite having just met. "Now stop worrying before you wrinkle such a pretty face."

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Riley chose being sneaky to be his strategy, and so far it had worked. A week was plenty of time to find out the staff's schedules and how they worked.

Right now he waited for the pool guy, knowing in the next five minutes he'd be coming to do his work. After observing for a few days, he'd found out that the pool was cleaned everyday, it helped his plans a great deal.

A man walked out from the other side of the backyard as Riley remained concealed inside, behind the door that led straight to the pool.

The man walked out and crouched over the pool, then put his hand inside the water to feel it before walking to one side and switching a button.

Okay now for my moment.

The middle aged guy checked for his stuff but they weren't anywhere to be found.

Riley smiled.

Just when the guy looked like he was about to scratch his head, Riley got out. He was dressed in his trunks with a towel over his shoulder like he was going to swim.

Riley pretended not to see him as he tested the water with his toes then as if noticing the guy for the first time, he acted surprised. "Oh I'm sorry, were you going to..."

"I'm sorry sir, I should have been done by now-" the pool guy struggled to find the words.

"No that's okay, I can wait," Riley was totally at ease.

"Okay, thank you for your patience sir. Just give me a little time."

"Alright then," Riley sat down on one of the sun beds and put his hands behind his head, totally at ease.

The guy scrambled around, looking for where he might have put his tools. He peeked from one eye, that revealed to him his plan was falling into place.

Riley waited two full minutes before getting up and setting his towel down. "Is there a problem?" Riley asked with genuine concern on his face. I could come back later, it's really no biggie."

For a moment the guy looked scared. "No, no I just need to find- just a little time sir."

"At least let me help you then. What's wrong?" Riley asked. The innocence came naturally.

"Are you sure?"

"I insist, tell me, what is it?"

"Okay only if you must know. The cleaning equipment...err... the pool vacuum. I'm trying to find it but-" he paused. "I could have sworn..."

"Alright then, I'll help you look."

"Really?"

"Yeah absolutely, where do you remember last putting it?"

"Over there," the pool guy walked to where he usually kept everything. "It was right here."

"Are you sure? Because it isn't. Maybe you misplaced it. Sometimes I throw my phone away and find it the next day. These things happen quite a lot."

"I never forget this I mean-"

"It's okay I'll go double check everywhere you've been then we'll look around the entire backyard, you can do the same too."

"Alright thanks for this sir. It's a big help."

Riley looked everywhere. Moving back and forth at least twice to tell the pool guy that he'd found nothing. It really seemed like both their efforts were futile for a while.

Then miraculously, he emerged from the shade with a pool vacuum in one hand.

"Is this...?"

The pool guy's eyes widened in surprise and relief. "Oh yes thank you, where did you find it?"

"The shade over there, you must have forgotten all about it."

The guy looked skeptical. "I don't think- I already checked and they weren't there. Maybe it was Emery, he usually works back here, could have easily moved them."

Riley shrugged. And who was to blame him? He didn't know anything about what the guy was saying.

"Alright I'll just wait for you to finish then," said Riley.

"Yes yes, I won't be long. You're a life saver sir."

"Please," Riley flashed him one of his most charming smiles. "Call me Riley."

He lay back down on the sun bed, legs crossed and hands clasped behind his head once again. A boyish grin spread across his face.

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Mason knew how to play his cards right. A week was plenty of time to get around to at least three people. It all fell into place because he was going to do it anyway, whether it was one of the tasks or not.

During his first days, he'd explored around the interior of the house to find an amazing library on the floor above. There were shelves upon shelves of books in a room so big it would take several steps to get from one side to the other.

Comfortable leather seats on one side and a more comfortable looking window seat. It was like a dream library.

There were few times when he ran into Linder in what was now known to them as their spot, just behind the wooden spiral staircase away from immediate sight. No one had talked about it or named it so, but they were both thinking it.

Surely enough, he found him hunched up against the wall. His knees drawn up to his chest with a book between them. Shoulder length hair that parted in the middle tucked behind one ear as he gave all his focus to the book. He had not even glanced up when Mason had stopped before him and crouched to his level.

"What's this one today?" Mason pulled the book away from Linder before the latter could understand what was happening to him.

He pouted while Mason inspected the book. "Give it back."

"Hmm, land of the lost," Mason read the title, then lay down and rested his head on Linder's lap. The contact becoming more natural by the days. "What's it about?" he gave back the book.

It was becoming a habit everytime he found Linder in the library. The first time, was really awkward. They'd ignored each other and kept to themselves. A few glances here and there.

The second time was better, even as they had tiptoed around words until they finally found common ground in storylines. It got Linder talking and Mason listening most of the times. The sweet voice like music to his ears as he went on and on about what good books were and everything in between.

"Well, says so in the title, it's about the land of the lost. Duh," said Linder.

Mason rolled his eyes then left them fixed on the other male. It was just supposed to make him uncomfortable but he found himself absorbing everything. His eyes decided they liked his lips the most, because they kept darting between them and his eyes behind the frames.

Linder looked away, showing a side profile to Mason, who noticed the pink tinge at the tips of his ears.

"Don't look at me like that."

Mason snapped out of his staring daze. "Then tell me what it's about."

"Ugh, fine. So Aggie's our protagonist, she finds a mysterious box in-"

Linder didn't finish because then they both heard a loud sound. It was like thousands of books were falling at once. They both rushed off the floor and left their sort of hidden spot, to find the source of the noise.

They were indeed books that had fallen down, but in between them was the person who had fallen victim to the books. He was a neat looking man who looked to be in his forties. The fall had ruffled his hair to make it look unkempt while the ladder rested on his leg. It didn't look like a nice fall. He'd probably been trying to arrange some books before somehow falling down.

Quickly, the two rushed to his side and tried to right him up. "Are you okay?" Mason asked.

"Yeah yeah, thank you. I'm fine. It's just this damn ladder. The Master insisted it be replaced but I thought I knew better," the man said, trying to sit upright.

They helped the man pull the ladder off himself. A loose step more visible now that more force had been exerted on it.

Linder bent over and set the guy's leg down gently. "That's a bad bruise." The skin had colored where the ladder had hit him. "I'll go get you some ice," Linder turned and walked out, leaving the other two briefly.

The man in pain limped a little when he moved to get up and walk around, Mason supporting him. He insisted he was fine and the younger man helped him on a couch. It wasn't the bruise that bothered him. A limp?

"Just great now I'm really in for it," he said, sighing and relaxing further into the couch.

"Oh I'm sure he'll understand, it wasn't your fault for damaging a few books. It's not like you wanted to," Mason tried to reassure him.

"What are you talking about?" the man pulled his lips in a twist, he seemed confused.

"The mess? The damage? Isn't that why you're in trouble? I mean, I know he is probably the meanest but-"

"Not at all," he said defensively. "I'm in for it, because he doesn't take this kind of thing really well."

It was Mason's turn to get confused. "What are you saying?"

The injured man sighed like he dreaded what was to come. "I have to explain why I let myself get hurt."

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Ten chapters! Thank you for being here❤️🤧

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Okay bye my loves!