Mayson didn't sleep.
Not because he couldn't.
Because his mind wouldn't slow down.
The ceiling above him stayed the same—plain, unmoving—but everything behind his eyes kept shifting. The man from last night. The scent. The way his heartbeat didn't match anything human.
Different.
That meant one thing.
Broken Falls wasn't just hiding vampires.
It was hiding everything.
Mayson turned his head slightly, staring toward the window. Early light crept through the curtains, soft and gray, stretching across the floor.
Morning.
He exhaled slowly and sat up.
For a second, everything was quiet.
Then—
A pulse.
Not his.
His gaze flicked toward the wall instinctively, like he could see through it.
Neighbor.
Human.
Too close.
Too loud.
His jaw tightened slightly as he stood, running a hand through his hair before stepping away from the direction of the sound.
This was the problem.
Not fights.
Not enemies.
Not even hunters.
It was this.
Being surrounded.
Hearing everything.
Smelling everything.
And pretending like he didn't.
By the time he stepped into the hallway at school, the noise hit him all at once.
Lockers slamming.
Shoes dragging.
Voices overlapping.
Heartbeats.
Too many.
Mayson adjusted his bag on his shoulder, his pace steady—not fast, not slow. Normal.
Blend.
That was the goal.
"—that's him."
"Yeah, that's the new guy—"
"I heard he already made the team—"
"Do you think he's single—?"
He kept walking.
Didn't react.
Didn't look.
But he heard everything.
A group of girls near the lockers went quiet as he passed, then immediately started whispering again once he moved past them.
He didn't need to hear the words.
The tone said enough.
At his locker, he spun the dial once, twice, then stopped halfway through the third turn.
Something sharp cut through the noise.
Paper.
Fresh.
A small nick.
Blood.
His fingers stilled against the metal.
It wasn't much.
Barely anything.
But to him?
It might as well have been a flood.
His throat tightened slightly.
Behind him, someone cursed under their breath.
"Damn it—paper cut—"
Mayson closed his eyes for half a second.
Control it.
His grip on the locker eased, then tightened again—controlled, measured.
Don't turn around.
Don't look.
Don't—
The scent hit stronger.
Closer now.
Moving.
His eyes opened slowly.
Too late.
Footsteps behind him.
The person stepped closer—too close.
"Hey, do you—"
Mayson moved.
Not fast enough to draw attention.
But fast enough.
He stepped aside just as the guy came up beside him, creating space without making it obvious.
Distance.
Air.
Control.
"You alright?" the guy asked, holding his finger awkwardly.
Mayson glanced at it for less than a second.
Red.
Bright.
Alive.
His stomach twisted.
"Yeah," Mayson said, voice even. "You should clean that."
The guy blinked.
"Uh… yeah. Probably."
He walked off.
Mayson shut his locker a little harder than necessary.
The sound echoed sharper than it should have.
A few people glanced over.
He didn't look at them.
Instead, he exhaled slowly and started walking again.
Step by step.
Each one controlled.
Each one deliberate.
Class felt longer than it should have.
Not because of the work.
Because of the noise.
Every shift in a chair.
Every scratch of a pen.
Every heartbeat.
It all layered on top of each other until it felt like pressure behind his eyes.
Mayson leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his pen once against the desk—not out of boredom.
Focus.
Across the room, Lily sat two rows over.
She glanced at him briefly, then did a double take when she noticed his expression.
Not relaxed.
Not bored.
Something else.
He looked away before she could hold eye contact too long.
The teacher's voice cut through the room.
"Mayson."
He looked up.
"Come to the board."
A few heads turned immediately.
Of course they did.
The teacher tapped the equation written across it.
"Let's see if you can handle this one."
Mayson stood.
Calm.
Controlled.
Every step measured as he walked to the front.
The marker felt light in his hand.
The problem?
Simple.
He didn't rush it.
Didn't show off.
Just solved it clean.
Step by step.
When he stepped back, the room stayed quiet for a second.
Then—
"That was fast."
"Did he even think about that—?"
"Okay… what—?"
Mayson handed the marker back without saying anything and returned to his seat.
Lily watched him the whole time.
This time, he noticed.
And didn't look away immediately.
Just for a second.
Then he broke it.
Lunch was worse.
Too many people.
Too close.
Too loud.
Mayson sat at the edge of the table, his tray barely touched. He didn't need the food.
Didn't want it.
Across from him, a couple of the guys from the team were talking—something about practice, plays, positions.
Normal.
Easy.
Safe.
Mayson leaned back slightly, letting the conversation pass over him.
Then—
Another scent.
Faint.
But familiar.
His eyes shifted slightly—not enough for anyone to notice.
Scanning.
Tracking.
Not human.
Again.
Different from last night.
But still…
Not normal.
So there was more than one.
Of course there was.
His fingers tapped once against the table.
Thinking.
Planning.
Across from him, one of the guys nudged another.
"Yo, you coming to practice after school?"
Mayson's attention snapped back just enough.
"Yeah."
"You play what?"
"Depends."
The guy laughed.
"That's not an answer."
Mayson leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.
"It is if I'm better than you."
A couple of them laughed.
One of them shook his head.
"Alright, we'll see about that."
Mayson didn't smile.
But there was something there.
Subtle.
Confident.
By the time the final bell rang, the pressure hadn't gone away.
If anything, it had built.
More scents.
More unknowns.
More questions.
As he stepped out of the building, the air felt different.
Open.
Easier.
But not safe.
Never safe.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
A message.
Unknown number.
He pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
"You should be more careful."
Mayson stopped walking.
Just slightly.
Then kept moving.
Another message came through.
"This town watches everything."
His grip tightened around the phone.
Not enough to break it.
But close.
He typed back.
"Then it should've stayed hidden."
The reply came almost instantly.
"You don't understand where you are yet."
Mayson's gaze lifted slowly, scanning the street.
People walking.
Cars passing.
Normal.
Fake.
His expression didn't change.
But something behind his eyes did.
Cold.
Sharp.
Interested.
He typed one last message.
"Then explain it."
A pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
"You'll see soon enough."
The messages stopped.
Mayson lowered the phone slowly.
Around him, Broken Falls moved like nothing was wrong.
Like nothing was coming.
Like it was just another quiet town.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
His head tilted slightly as he looked down the street.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Then he muttered under his breath—
"Good."
Not worried.
Not cautious.
Not afraid.
Just ready.