Mastace turned the locking mechanism on the front door after he entered his home. Home... What a funny thought, he told himself as he absently set his keys on the stand next to the entrance. He slipped off his backpack and walked into the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes from the last couple of nights and the sink itself needed a good scrubbing, as if it had been years since it was last cleaned. Mastace knew this to be false. He inspected it before they moved into the house, and it was perfectly clean and white. Now, the porcelain was stained a green-yellow and the kitchen reeked of various odors, all of them way too familiar.
"Damn it, Dad." he mumbled under his breath. "You couldn't have waited at least a few more weeks? I can't keep doing this..." Giving up any hope of a mid-day snack, much less any semblance of lunch, Mastace just went upstairs and into his room. Shutting the door as silently as possible, he listened around for any signs of movement or other activity. Once the bedroom door was shut and all was quiet, Mastace flopped onto his bed and grabbed his headphones. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in the passcode. It opened up to a library of playlists that held quite the repertoire of music. Most of it was in the realm of rock and punk, but some of it was mellow indie, orchestra symphonies, beloved movie soundtracks and one or two tolerable pop songs hidden in there somewhere.
Mastace looked through the playlists and found what he was looking for. Pushing the play button, he put on his headphones and allowed himself to relax. The world around him seemed to melt away with the lyrics he no longer payed any attention to, and nothing else mattered. No one could reach him in this state and he liked it that way. No one would be able to touch him, and no one would be able to hurt him. Nothing could hurt him. Not anymore. Not ever again. Not if he could help it. Something was about to change, and it is going to change everyone. Forever. He was sure of it.
Briggan watched Mastace leave, and it left a hole inside. He didn't know what to say or what to do to get him to stay, but he knew Mastace should go. Whatever it was that was on his mind, he needed to think through alone. He understood that. He'd been alone most of his life. He knew all it had to offer to anyone looking for a private moment to reflect, and yet he knew what it could do to someone who simply refused to leave the self-perceived sanctuary of isolation. Now, he watched Mastace walk out of his room and on to the front door. He wanted so very badly to find some excuse to stop him, anything. But there was nothing. When he heard the front door shut with finality, he was once again unable to keep the well of sudden emotions from leaping over the cusp. Very quickly, he began to sob as he trembled on the bed, his mind a tangled knot of confusing thoughts and his heart a slurry of baffling emotions.