Mason's POV

Ivan was just so cute. Mason just couldn't resist. He had tried to hide how he felt about Ivan for a little over a year now. They were friends for a long time, and he was afraid of ruining it all if he told his friend how he actually felt. To his surprise, Ivan had kissed him back.

When they had pulled away from the kiss, Mason had realised what he had done. "I... I'm sorry," he said, biting down on his bottom lip.

"Why are you sorry? It's fine. No one needs to know except us," Ivan said calmly.

Mason had no idea how Ivan could be so calm while he was a body full of nerves and butterflies. Just at that moment, his phone started to ring. He hung his head back and groaned. Who could it be and what did they want?

"It could be important. You should get that," Ivan said with a smile. "Don't let me get in the way."

He nodded and picked his phone up from the small table, looking at the screen. It was his mum. His heart dropped a little. She never called unless she absolutely had to. He had a bad feeling in his gut, but he shook it away.

Mason stood up and walked towards the window, answering the phone call. "Hey mum!" He tried to sound as enthusiastic as he could but knew his mother could probably see or hear past his fake facade.

"Hi sweetheart, how are you?" his mum said in a sympathetic tone which made Mason feel sick.

"I'm fine mum. What's up? You don't usually call me unless there is an emergency?" he asked as he stared out the window. The sun was in full bloom, some of the people who walked past had their umbrellas open to cover them from the sun.

"Well, darling, the police have some new information about Nate and would like to speak to us about it. They also want to ask you and Vixen some question," his mum answered. "You need to come home."

"But I'm at a friend's!" he protested; his heart dropped further.

"You will come home now Mason Monroe Anderson. You will come home, or you are grounded." His mother hung up almost immediately, not letting him say another word.

He sighed and slipped his phone in his back pocket. "I'm sorry Ivan. They need me at home."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Family will always come first. Do you want me to drive you home?" Ivan offered. Mason didn't know how Ivan could smile so sincerely.

He felt really bad leaving his friend after earlier. "You don't have to do that, but it would be lovely to be a passenger prince for once."

They both laughed. Ivan had gotten up from the sofa. "Come on. Let's go. Bike or car?"

"Huh?" Ivan asked, confused.

"Do you want to come on my bike or in my car? It isn't rocket science dude," Ivan said mockingly with a laugh in his tone.

Mason froze and stared at his friends. He had no idea Ivan had a car as well. "Let's go with the bike."

"Good choice. Come on," Ivan said as he already started to walk out the living room and down the hallway.

Mason quickly blew the lit candle out and followed his friend out the door. The sun hit down on his skin, making him feel like a roasted chicken in a hot oven. He was glad he had taken his jacket off otherwise he would have been sweating enough buckets to water the garden of the royal palace.

The garage door squeaked as Ivan pushed it open. A black Nissan GTR r34 and a black Kawasaki ninja 1000xs with green strips rested on its kickstand in front of the car. Mason whistled. They were sexy vehicles, and he didn't think he would get close to either one in his lifetime. Ivan walked into the garage and wheeled his bike out, leaning it against the kickstand again. He then grabbed a black and purple helmet and threw it towards Mason with Mason catching it as it reached him. He watched as Ivan put on gloves and his helmet.

"Usually, I'd wear gear but it's a short ride, so I'll skip," Ivan said as he got on the bike. "Come on."

Mason put the helmet on and got onto the motorbike behind Ivan. He slid his arms around the man's arms, goosebumps formed as he started the bike and it roared to life loudly. Ivans motorbike was a lot louder than his own, but he didn't mind. They had left Ivan's place, the wind blowing past them.

After a handful of lefts and a couple of rights they had reached Masons place where Ivan stopped at the front.

"Thank you, Ivan. I owe you," Mason said as he stepped off the bike, taking the helmet off and handing it to his friend.

"You don't owe me anything. You've got this Mas," Ivan said as he drove off into the distance.

Mason stood there and watched as his friend rode off. It took him a few moments to gain some confidence to get to his front door and get inside. Truth was he was scared. He wasn't scared of his mother but what the police wanted. Nate had a rough few years when his mum overdosed on her medication and then died six months later. Mason's mother had let Nate in as if he was one of her own. Nate always was a good kid, even though he and Mason didn't see eye to eye on most things.

He pushed the door open and closed it behind him as he entered. "I'm home," he called loudly.

A scent of lavender hit him almost immediately and he knew his mother was cooking something, most likely cookies. The wooden floors ran across all parts of the house, the walls were primarily white in most rooms. A small table with a bowl holding keys and such sat behind the door with photos of the family hung neatly across the wall. He walked down the hall and into the living room where his mother was sat on the white two-seater sofa across from the fireplace.

"Hey mum," Mason greeted, trying to not sound nervous.

His mum looked up from the book she was reading and lowered her glasses a little. "About time you showed up. Your sister refuses to speak to me and she has locked herself in her room."

"Let me try to talk to her. She'll listen to me," Mason said with a sigh.

Since Nate died, his sister hadn't been the same. She had locked herself in her room and refused to come out unless it was to get food or water.

Mason walked up the stairs, grimacing as his steps echoed and bounced off the walls. It was the one thing he hated about the house. Once he reached the second floor, he flipped the switch and the dark hallway lit up. He walked past a few doors and stopped at a closed pink which was his sister's room. He still remembered a couple years ago when his parents were repainting the entire house and asked them what colour they wanted their doors to which Vixen immediately yelled out pink. Of course. Her entire room had pink in it and gave Mason a headache each time he went in. He had picked black for his door because of his love for black and dark colours. Vixen and himself were complete opposites in many aspects.

He knocked on her door a few times and waited. A long silence followed so he tried again. "I know you're in there sis. Let me in."

"Leave me alone," Vixen yelled out.

Mason sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Can't. Open up."

"No!" she yelled out again.

He mumbled under his breath then walked back down the corridor. There was another trick he had up his sleeve. His sister usually kept her window open so he could easily get in through there. He used to be a great climber when he was younger which once ended up in him having to go to the emergency room when he fell. It wasn't the biggest achievement of his life but if there was an award for disappointing your parents the most, he would have gotten it at that very moment. His mother gave him the lecture of the century while his father looked like he was going to beat him into mush.

Mason ran down the stairs and headed towards the back yard. Before he could reach the glass sliding door, his mother called him from the living room.

"Any luck honey?" she asked.

"No but I'm gonna try another way," he called out.

"If it is climbing, don't do it. The last time you did that, you almost killed yourself," she warned.

Mason sighed. "I'll be careful, mum. Don't worry." He quickly slid the door open and walked out.

The sun was still as strong as well but clouds were starting to roll in so he was hoping that would cool things down a little. He looked around the yard and spotted the recycling bin with a yellow lid, so he ran over to it and wheeled it near the side of the back porch. He promptly jumped onto it then hopped onto the roof like ledge on top of the porch. The state of the top part was in dire need of cleaning and repainting. He was sure his parents never focused on the roof part of the house, just the interior. He slowly stood up and as expected, his sisters window was wide open. She didn't have a flyscreen on her window, well she did but she threw it off her window and broke it.

A light breeze blew as he quietly squeezed through her window. Vixen screamed and her eyes went wide when he did so.

"Relax, twinnyboo, it's just me," he said calmly.

She jolted up on her bed. Her hair was still the same as ever but was now completely uncombed with each individual strands going in opposite directions like a hedgehog. The most worrying part was her eye bags, she looked like she hasn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. She was still wearing the same fit she was in a few days ago: grey sweatpants and a black shirt with a red heart on it.

"Get out. I told you to leave me alone," Vixen almost yelled out. Nate's death shook her up quite a bit. She didn't want anything to do with anyone since the day he died.

"Sorry, can't." He pulled out a chair from under her wooden table by the window and sat on it. "I'm on a mission to speak to you and make you come downstairs."

"I'm fine right here, thank you for your concern now leave." His sister threw her pillow at him, tears falling.

"It is my concern when my own twin sister is locking herself in her room with no contact with the outside word." He rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward. "Plus, the cops are coming to talk to us, so you better come downstairs. They should be here any minute now. You don't want to lose pretty door privileges do you Vix?" He ran his fingers through his long hair. After a little while of silence he said, "I'll take that as a no. Now hurry up. I'm not asking."

He stood up almost immediately, unlocked her door and walked out, not bothering to close the door behind him. Mason liked to think of himself as the mature one between himself and his sister.

–

After what felt like a lifetime, the doorbell rang. He knew who that was and he was sure his mother and sister did too. There could be no good news, but he was hoping there would be good news. His mum answered the door and almost robotically himself and his sister stood up.

After a few moments, a man in a dark blue police uniform walked in. "Good afternoon. I am detective Clive Winson. I am here to speak to you about Nate Anderson's death." Mason had no expected this cops voice to be so deep.

The man looked like he was too tired to do anything, dark circles under his eyes, on his way to balding with the missing patches of hair on the top of his head, probably had too many beers and donuts in his system judging by the stomach on him, his voice made him sound like he was out of breath.

"Hi sir, I'm Mason and this is Vixen," he introduced, pointing to his sister as he introduced her. "Please have a seat."

A while of silence had gone by before the detective spoke. "Did Nate have any enemies?"

"No. He was actually the kind of man everyone wanted to be friends with," Mason answered. He had watched enough crime documentaries to know that they only asked these kinds of questions if they suspected someone was murdered. "Why do you ask?"

"We have reason to believe it wasn't an overdose but murder," the detective answered, his voice calm.

"What?!" Vixen almost yelled out, making him almost want to go to her and close her mouth with his hand. "What do you mean murder?! We saw the needle though!"

Mason shot his sister a look and sighed. "Let the detective speak!"

"It's quite alright. I understand this isn't news anyone wishes to receive. I do need to ask if either of you know who made the drink that Nate had," the detective asked, looking between Vixen and himself.

"Uh, yeah," Mason asked. "My friend, Jackson, was in charge of drinks for formal. Why do you ask?"

"We have reason to believe one of the drinks were spiked with a chemical known as paraquat which is extremely deadly. His heart, lungs, liver and kidney were affected as well as swelling in his mouth and throat," investigator Clive answered.

Everyone had gone silent.

"Paraquat? Why would someone put that in a drink?" Mason asked. He was confused and was sure Jackson would never do such thing. "Isn't it a chemical? A very dangerous one?"

"Well, yes. As to why, I don't have an answer to that just yet," the detective answered.