Initially, Mason believed this day would be like any other—just another routine morning leading into a mundane night where he would go through his daily habits: eating meals, playing games, scrolling through his phone, and sleeping. The process would repeat itself tomorrow.
At least, that's what he thought.
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[nomas69: /* sent a kissing emoji.]
[nomas69: See you soon.]
[eya500: See ya, I love you!! /* kissing emoji]
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As Mason (nomas69) looked at these messages on his computer screen, a grin slowly crept onto his face. Other than playing games on his computer, scrolling through his phone, eating, and sleeping, this had also become one of his favorite activities these days. His best friend, Jacob, didn't know it yet, but Mason had a girlfriend—a girlfriend he met online. According to eya500's bio and what she told him, she was 28 years old, two years older than him.
Thinking about it made him laugh softly to himself, the smile on his face refusing to fade. He was genuinely happy. Even though eya500 always refused to show her face, Mason was certain she was beautiful. No doubt about it. His instincts never betrayed him. Just this morning, his gut had told him today would be a great day. Maybe he'd win the lottery? Only God knew.
"I guess I'll go buy a lottery ticket. Hehehe," Mason muttered.
The more he thought about hitting the jackpot, the greedier his laugh became. His eyes gleamed as if they had turned into dollar signs, making him look like a guy who worshipped money. But who wouldn't want money, right? All that nonsense about "money can't buy happiness" was obviously a lie. Having loads of money would absolutely make him happy. And with more money, more women would flock to him. That's like hitting two birds with one stone!
Having made up his mind, Mason stood up, grabbed his cap, and placed it on his head. He was determined to buy that lottery ticket. If today was truly his lucky day, he couldn't afford to miss this chance.
Pulling out his phone, Mason opened the Notes app and began jotting down numbers he planned to bet on. This is it, he thought excitedly. The winning numbers!
But then, something caught his attention. When he swiped down the notification panel on his phone, he noticed eight missed calls—all from Jacob.
"What does he want?" Mason muttered, grumbling as he was about to call his friend back. Before he could press the dial button, a sudden loud knock came from the door.
Knock! Knock!
"Hey, Mason! It's Jacob! Open up, quick! Hey!"
Mason frowned at the door, confused. He put his phone down on the nearby table and headed toward the entrance. "Coming!" he called out.
Unlocking the several layers of bolts and latches on his door, Mason opened it, only for Jacob to barge in immediately. His friend grabbed Mason's shoulders tightly, his bloodshot eyes wide with urgency.
"W-what do you want? Why are you here?" Mason asked nervously, taken aback by Jacob's frantic demeanor.
"You weren't answering my calls!" Jacob barked.
"Well… my phone was on silent, so…" Mason's words trailed off, and he decided to change the subject. "Anyway, what do you want, man?"
"Give me Sam's number!" Jacob demanded, his voice loud and impatient.
"What?"
"Just do it!"
"Wait, wait! Let go of me first, bro."
Realizing he was gripping too tightly, Jacob released Mason with a sigh. "I'm sorry. It's an urgent matter. I really need it right now."
"Is that so?" Mason muttered, still bewildered as he walked to the table, picked up his phone, and began searching through his contacts. After a moment, he exclaimed, "Found it!"
Jacob gave a sharp nod, snatching the phone out of Mason's hand and copying Sam's number. Mason frowned at his friend's strange behavior. Something was definitely wrong. Really wrong. What on earth had Jacob so worked up? Was it that mafia boss act he pulled at Sam's wedding reception?
Mason hadn't attended the party—he had lied about being sick when, in reality, he was busy chatting with eya500—but he had still heard all about Jacob's stunt. After helping Jacob pick out the clothes for the act, he had referred him to a street thug he knew, Brother Rock, to serve as Jacob's bodyguard for the event. The whole thing was ridiculous, but Jacob had insisted it would impress their old classmates.
Now, though, Mason had a sinking feeling that something far more serious was happening.
His suspicions deepened as he watched Jacob make the call. After a few moments, Mason heard the familiar click indicating Sam had answered.
"It's me, Jacob Fox!" Jacob said urgently, his tone alarmed.
There was a brief pause before Jacob added, "That doesn't matter right now. I'll explain everything later. For now, you need to get out of the villa immediately."
Mason's confusion grew with every word. Why did Jacob want Sam to leave his house? What kind of trouble were they in? What the hell was going on?
Then Jacob's next words sent chills down Mason's spine: "Henry is dead, Sam. The boss is coming after us next!"
Mason's eyes widened. He didn't know who Henry was, but judging by Jacob's tone, he was someone important. And who was this "boss"? What was happening? This didn't seem like some elaborate joke or prank. Jacob wasn't laughing; he looked dead serious.
"For fuck's sake, Sam!" Jacob suddenly shouted into the phone. "Stop wasting time and get out now if you don't want to die!"
Mason instinctively took a step back, his mind spinning with confusion and fear. After a few more tense seconds, Jacob ended the call and pulled the phone away from his ear.
Mason opened his mouth to ask what was happening but hesitated, unsure if he should even say anything.
Jacob noticed his hesitation and sighed heavily. "Forget everything you just heard, Mason," he said coldly, walking toward the door. "It's better that way."
Mason watched him leave, his chest tightening with a mix of worry and frustration. "Wait!" he called out, grabbing Jacob's wrist. "Tell me how I can help."
"Mason, this isn't your problem—"
"No," Mason interrupted firmly. "Both you and Sam are my friends. Friends help each other in times of need, right?"
Jacob wavered, his resolve flickering for a moment. But then he shook his head, his expression hardening again. "No. You don't understand. You can't get involved in this."
"And yet you barged in here, saying all that in front of me?" Mason sneered, tightening his grip on Jacob's wrist. "I'm already involved, Jacob. You can't just push me away. We're friends, right?"
Jacob closed his eyes, a wave of guilt washing over him. Memories of their childhood together flashed in his mind—Mason had always been his partner-in-crime, helping him cover up or fix his reckless mistakes.
After a long pause, Jacob finally relented. "Fine," he said with a sigh, though he forced a small, tired smile. "But don't blame me if you die."
"Of course," Mason replied with a chuckle, extending his hand.
Jacob hesitated for a moment before taking it and shaking it firmly.
"Partner-in-crime, then," Mason said with a grin.
"Partner in crime," Jacob said with a helpless smile.