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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Dreamer - 4. Chapter 4 - School Daze

Part 1 - Study Sessions and Subtle Advances

Over the next few months, Mason found himself buried in the rigors of college life. The transition from high school to college was more challenging than he had anticipated. Classes were larger and more impersonal, and the workload seemed endless. It quickly became clear that he would need to adapt if he wanted to succeed. So, Mason jumped at the chance when a group of students in his first-year classes suggested forming a study group.

Robby was in the same group, which provided a sense of familiarity amidst the overwhelming newness of everything. They met regularly in the library or a quiet corner of the student union building, poring over textbooks, sharing notes, and discussing difficult concepts. Cindy, a second-year student who had taken many of the same courses, joined them occasionally. Her insights were invaluable—she knew the professors, understood their grading styles, and had a knack for explaining things in a way that made sense to everyone.

Whenever Cindy attended these sessions, she made it a point to sit next to Mason. She always found a reason to be close—brushing up against him, leaning over his shoulder to see what he was working on, or letting her long blonde hair cascade onto his arm as she leaned in to whisper a suggestion. Her perfume was a constant presence, a sweet, floral scent that Mason couldn’t help but notice. It was clear that Cindy was interested in him, and though Mason appreciated her attention, it also left him feeling uneasy.

During these sessions, Mason couldn’t help but notice Robby’s reaction. At first, Robby would smirk at Mason and Cindy, a knowing grin that suggested he saw more than what was being said. However, as the weeks passed, Robby started attending the study group less frequently. When Mason asked why, Robby would brush it off with a vague excuse—about needing to catch up on sleep or having other plans. The tension between them was visible, but Robby never addressed it directly. Mason chalked it up to that night months ago when Robby had made a few flirtatious comments after they’d had too much to drink. Mason had let it go, assuming it was just the alcohol talking, especially since Robby always seemed to have a new girl on his arm every weekend.

Part 2 - Weekends with Cindy

Weekends became a balancing act for Mason. Cindy frequently invited him to hang out—grabbing pizza, walking by the pier, or joining her and her friends for roller skating. Mason had never been roller skating before, and his first time was a disaster. He wobbled and stumbled, his legs refusing to cooperate with the slick wheels beneath his feet. But Cindy was always there, laughing softly as she held his arm to keep him steady, catching him just before he could fall.

The roller skating rink was alive with some of the best music, and Mason couldn’t get enough of it. He had a soft spot for Billy Idol's rebellious sound, though he couldn’t deny the thrill he felt every time he saw him on screen. And when Wham! came on, it wasn’t just the catchy tunes that made his heart race—there was something about the energy of the band that kept drawing him in.

Mason couldn’t deny that part of him enjoyed the attention. Cindy was kind, fun to be around, and undeniably attractive. But every time she got too close, every time her friends giggled and whispered among themselves, Mason felt a knot of guilt tighten in his chest. He knew he wasn’t being fair to her but didn’t know how to navigate the situation without hurting her feelings.

The roller skating outings became regular, and Mason looked forward to them despite his clumsiness. Yet, no matter how much fun he had, there was always a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He started noticing how Cindy’s friends, Maria, Gwen, and Allison, would glance at each other and giggle whenever they saw him with Cindy. Their laughter was always loud enough for Mason to hear, though he could never make out what they were saying.

Part 3 - The Late-Night Confrontation

One night, after a particularly long evening of roller skating and burgers with Cindy and her friends, Mason returned to his dorm room later than usual. The hallways were quiet. Most students are already in their rooms, preparing for bed or studying for the next day’s classes. As he approached the door to his room, Mason hesitated. Robby was notorious for forgetting to put the tag on the door when he had company, so Mason had developed the habit of pressing his ear against the door to listen for any signs of activity. It felt a little creepy, but it was better than the alternative—walking in on Robby and whomever he was with.

Tonight, though, the room was silent. Mason quietly unlocked the door and stepped inside, expecting Robby to be asleep. But as soon as he closed the door behind him, Robby’s voice cut through the darkness.

“Well, if it isn’t Mason. Mr. Stud Muffin,” Robby blurted out, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re pretty damn late. Did you finally score with Cindy?”

The comment took Mason aback. There was something in Robby’s voice—something that sounded almost like jealousy, though Mason couldn’t be sure. He turned on the small lamp beside his bed, casting a warm glow across the room. Robby was sitting in his bed, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his expression unreadable. As usual, he was wearing nothing but his boxers. Mason had gotten used to Robby’s casual approach to sleepwear, but tonight, it made him feel more uneasy than usual.

“No, I didn’t ‘score’ with Cindy,” Mason replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “We went skating, got some burgers, and I just lost track of time. Why are you so worried about where I am, anyway? I don’t have a curfew, and I don’t need to check in with you or get your permission to stay out late.”

Robby’s eyes flashed with something—anger, maybe? Frustration? Mason couldn’t tell. “Yeah, right. Whatever,” Robby shot back sarcastically. “Listen, it’s your life. Do what you want, but if you’re going to be late, be a little considerate, OK? I have classes in the morning and unlike you, I need to work twice as hard.”

With that, Robby flopped back onto his pillow and yanked the blanket over his head, ending the conversation. Mason stood there for a moment, confused and unsettled. It wasn’t that late—just after midnight—so why was Robby acting like this? First, he had stopped coming to the study sessions, and now he was blowing up over nothing. When Mason thought he was beginning to understand the social dynamics at play, Robby threw him off balance again.

As Mason changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. What was going on with Robby? Why was he suddenly so irritable, so different from the easy going guy Mason had come to know? The more Mason thought about it, the more it bothered him. He began to wonder if he should request to move to another room. He’d seen other students make requests and get moved around without much hassle. Maybe a change of scenery was what he needed—to distance himself from whatever strange tension had developed between him and Robby.

But even as he considered it, Mason felt a pang of reluctance. Moving out would be the easy way out, a way to avoid dealing with whatever was really going on. And deep down, he didn’t want to run away. He wanted to understand—to figure out what was happening, both with Robby and within himself.

Part 4 - Confrontation and Confession

The tension between Mason and Robby only grew over the next few weeks. Robby’s sarcastic remarks became more frequent, and his mood became more volatile. He stopped joining the study sessions altogether, and though he still went out on weekends, Mason noticed that Robby was more distant and more withdrawn than before. Cindy, meanwhile, continued to spend time with Mason, oblivious to the turmoil he was feeling.

One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Cindy invited Mason to grab a coffee at a nearby café. Cindy finally broke the silence as they sat across from each other, sipping their drinks.

“Mason, can I ask you something?” she began, her voice hesitant.

“Sure,” Mason replied, though he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Cindy bit her lip, clearly unsure of how to phrase her question. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you these past few months. And… I guess I’m just wondering if you feel the same way. About us, I mean.”

Mason’s heart sank. He had been dreading this moment, knowing it was inevitable. Cindy had been nothing but kind to him, and he hated the thought of hurting her. But he couldn’t keep pretending—couldn’t keep leading her on when he knew he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings.

“Cindy,” Mason began, choosing his words carefully, “I think you’re an amazing person. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you too. But… I need to be honest with you. I don’t feel the same way. Not in the way you’re hoping.”

Cindy’s face fell, but she quickly recovered, forcing a smile. “Oh, I see. That’s okay, Mason. I just… I thought maybe there was something more.”

Part 5 - The Confession

Mason took a deep breath. It was now or never. “There’s something else you should know,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m gay, Cindy. That’s why I haven’t been able to respond to your feelings the way you wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Mason sat across from Cindy, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her reaction. For a moment, it was as if time had stopped. Her face went blank—completely devoid of expression as if she had been turned to stone. Mason’s stomach twisted into knots. What had he done?

Fear gripped him, a cold, unrelenting fear that was all too familiar. It was the same dread he’d felt when his mom found that letter at home. But this time, it was worse. He wasn’t dealing with a misunderstanding from an overprotective parent. He was playing with someone’s feelings—someone who cared deeply for him. And someone he cared for as well, though not in the way she wanted. Cindy deserved so much more than the uncertainty he had offered her.

Mason wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—to break the silence. But before he could gather his thoughts, Cindy abruptly stood up. The suddenness of her movement startled him, and before he could react, she turned and walked out of the café without a word.

Panic set in. Mason quickly stood, fumbling to leave some money on the table for their drinks. He rushed outside, calling her name as he tried to catch up to her. “Cindy! Cindy, wait, please!”

She kept walking, her pace quick and determined, but Mason was persistent. He called her name again, louder this time, and finally, she stopped. Mason hurried to her side, his breath coming in short, anxious gasps.

“Cindy, can we talk?” Mason asked, his voice trembling with desperation.

Cindy turned to face him, and Mason’s heart broke at the sight. Tears were streaming down her face, her eyes already red and swollen. But as he looked into her eyes, those tears quickly turned to anger—anger so fierce it took Mason aback. Cindy's hand flew up before he could say anything more, and she slapped him hard across the face.

The slap echoed in the quiet street, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Mason stood frozen, his cheek burning from the impact. But it wasn’t the physical pain that hurt the most—it was the pain deep in his heart. The slap stung more than the hateful words he had endured at his graduation. This was different. This was personal. It was the betrayal of someone he had come to care about, someone who had trusted him with her feelings.

“How could you do this to me?” Cindy spat, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. “How could you let me think… let me believe that there was something between us? You played with my heart, Mason! You lied to me!”

Mason opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could he say? How could he possibly explain the confusion, fear, and self-doubt that kept him from telling her the truth? He felt like a coward, standing there in the aftermath of his own dishonesty.

“I’m so sorry, Cindy,” Mason finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just… I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared.”

“Scared?” Cindy's voice was incredulous, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him. “You were scared? What about me, Mason? Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? I thought you liked me—I thought there was a chance we could be something more. And all this time, you were just… pretending? And then, on top of all that, you tell me you’re… you’re gay? I could have handled you not having romantic feelings for me, Mason. But you lied. You played with my heart. You lied!”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mason pleaded, his eyes filling with tears. “I wasn’t pretending, Cindy. I care about you, I really do. But… but not in the way you wanted. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I’m sorry. Maybe I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

Cindy shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “maybe? Well, it’s too late for that now, Mason. Don’t worry about me. We’re done—before anything even had a chance to happen between us.”

She turned to walk away, but Mason reached out, grabbing her arm gently, desperately. “Please, Cindy. I don’t want to lose your friendship. I know I’ve messed up, but can we at least try to—”

Cindy wrenched her arm free from his grip, her voice cold as she interrupted him. “My friendship?” Cindy said sarcastically, “Don’t. Just don’t, Mason. You made your choice, and now you have to live with it. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. Just… leave me alone.”

Mason stood there, helpless as she walked away, disappearing into the night. He watched her go until she was out of sight, and then, slowly, he brought a trembling hand to his cheek, still feeling the sting of her slap. But the real pain was in his chest, a heavy, suffocating ache that threatened to crush him. He had hurt someone who had only shown him kindness, and now he was left alone with the consequences of his actions.

As Mason turned and began the long walk back to his dorm, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. He had been so afraid of losing Cindy’s friendship that he had ended up destroying it. And the worst part was he knew that this was all his fault.

He had let his fear control him, let it dictate his actions, and now he was paying the price.

When Mason finally reached his dorm, he paused outside the door, unsure of how he would face Robby after everything that had just happened. The thought of trying to explain this mess to him was overwhelming. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, the cold night air chilling him to the bone. But eventually, he knew he had to go inside and deal with whatever awaited him there.

Taking a deep breath, Mason pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. The room was dark, and Robby was already in bed, his back turned toward Mason. There was no sarcastic remark this time, no taunt or joke—just silence.

Mason changed into his pajamas as quietly as he could, the night's events replaying in his mind relentlessly. As he slipped under the covers, he stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him. He had lost Cindy’s friendship, and he didn’t know how he would ever make things right. But more than that, he knew he couldn’t keep running from the truth—who he was.

Mason closed his eyes, the ache in his chest deepening as he whispered to himself, “What have I done?”

And with that, sleep finally claimed him, though it brought little comfort.

Part 6 - The Morning After

Mason woke to the sound of Robby stirring in the early morning light. He kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, not ready to face his roommate or the world outside. His cheek still stung from the slap, a sharp reminder of the night before, and the last thing he wanted was to explain to Robby what had happened.

Robby moved quietly, but Mason could sense his agitation in the way he threw his clothes on and rustled through his things. Mason listened as Robby opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door clicked shut, and Mason waited, holding his breath, counting the seconds. When he was sure Robby was gone, Mason finally opened his eyes.

He sat up in bed, his heart heavy with regret. The room was dim, the pale morning light filtering through the blinds, casting long shadows across the floor. Mason didn’t move, his thoughts a chaotic jumble. How was he going to deal with this? The semester was almost over, finals were looming, and he needed to focus on his studies. Part of him wished he had waited to tell Cindy—maybe until after finals when things were less stressful. But no, that would have been just another excuse, another way to hide from the truth. Or maybe he shouldn't have said anything after telling her he wasn't interested in her. No, that would have only put off the conversation and made it even more difficult.

As he sat there, replaying the events of the night before, doubt crept in. Maybe the jump to the big city and university wasn’t a good idea after all. He thought he could handle it, but now he wasn’t so sure. He had messed things up so badly. He felt like he was drowning in his mistakes, struggling to keep his head above water.

As Mason sank deeper into his thoughts, the door burst open. Robby stormed in, his face flushed with anger.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Robby spat, slamming the door behind him. “What the fuck did you do? Cindy is pissed off with you, and now she doesn’t want to talk to me! I didn’t do anything, and now I’m getting shit for it. You should fucking go back to your hick town. You don’t belong here.”

Mason flinched at Robby’s words, his heart sinking further. Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door. Mason’s pulse quickened. Now what?

“Mason! Mason, open up!” It was Maria. Mason’s heart dropped. Had Cindy told her friends what happened? Of course she had.

He hesitated, but then, with a resigned sigh, he got up and opened the door. Maria pushed her way in before he could say anything.

“Mason, what did you do?” Maria demanded, her voice sharp with concern. “Cindy is in tears. She won’t talk to me at all—she’s locked herself in her room. What’s going on? You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Before Mason could respond, Robby interjected, his voice dripping with disdain. “He’s a fucking hick. He won’t say anything. He’s been sitting there with a blank stare on his face, like he doesn’t give a damn. I thought he was a cool guy, but I was wrong. He’s cold.”

Mason recoiled at Robby’s harsh words, his chest tightening with a mix of guilt and anger. Before he could even begin to process it, there was another knock at the door, and this time, Gwen and Allison barged in without waiting for an invitation.

“Mason, what’s going on?” Gwen demanded, her voice full of worry. “Cindy won’t talk to any of us. You both went for coffee last night—what happened?”

The room felt smaller, the air heavy with tension. Mason was cornered, surrounded by Cindy’s friends and Robby, all of them demanding answers he wasn’t sure he could give. His mind raced, trying to find the right words, but nothing came.

Robby, never one to miss an opportunity to escalate a situation, added more fuel to the fire. “He’s a fucking hick, that’s what he is. He’s a piece of shit. He won’t say anything because he doesn’t care.”

Mason couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure, guilt, and overwhelming sense of failure came crashing down on him. With his head in his hands, he finally broke.

“I’m gay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The room fell into a stunned silence. For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke. The weight of Mason’s words hung heavy in the air, like a storm cloud about to burst.

Maria was the first to break the silence. “What did you say, Mason?” she asked, her voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Mason looked up, his eyes brimming with tears, a mix of anger and pain etched across his face. He had held this inside for too long, and now it was tearing him apart. “I’m fucking gay!” he yelled, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “I’m a freak, a faggot! A goddamn homo! There, now you know my dirty little secret. Is that what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

The words echoed in the room, leaving everyone stunned and silent. Mason didn’t wait for their reactions. He couldn’t. The pain, the shame, the anger—it was all too much. He needed to get out, to escape before the walls closed in on him completely.

Mason stormed out of the room, pushing his way past without another word, leaving the others in shock. He barely registered the surprised faces in the hallway as he hurried down the stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. The cold air hit him like a slap, but he barely felt it. His mind was a blur of emotions—regret, fear, anger, and an overwhelming sense of loss.

He stumbled across the lawn, his legs carrying him to the nearest bench. He collapsed onto it, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms, trying to block out the world around him. His mind raced, replaying the events over and over, each time more painful than the last.

Right now, all Mason wanted to do was run. Run away from this place, the city, everything that had gone wrong. He wanted to return home to his parents and the familiarity of his old life. Back to being anonymous, back to before any of this had started. He had never thought of himself as a coward, but he felt like one here. He had been a coward for not facing reality and for not being honest with himself and his friends. Friends who he had now lost because of his lies and his fear.

Mason sat on the bench, the cold seeping into his bones, feeling more alone than he had ever felt. He didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to fix the mess he had created. All he knew was that he couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not now. Not ever.

As the morning light brightened the sky, Mason remained on the bench, lost in his thoughts, unsure of what the future held for him. The path ahead was unclear, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep running. He had to face his fears, confront his mistakes, and somehow find a way to make things right. But how? And what more was it going to cost?

Copyright © 2024 ChromedOutCortex; All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you for taking the time to read The Dreamer. This story, and all that I write, mean a lot to me, and I hope it resonated with you on some level. I’d love to hear your thoughts! Whether it’s about the characters, the themes, or any part of the story that stood out to you—your feedback is invaluable.
Feel free to leave a comment, start a discussion, or reach out directly to share your perspective. What moments did you connect with? I’m always open to thoughtful critiques and conversations, and I’d love to know what you think could be explored further.
Your support and engagement help shape future stories, and I’m truly grateful for the time you’ve invested in reading. If you enjoyed this, or any other story I've written, please consider sharing it with others or leaving a review to spread the word.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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