May 2024
The yacht rocked gently on the calm waters of the bay, as if it were too light to carry the weight of what was about to happen. Music pulsed in the background—rhythmic, yet unsettling—synchronized too perfectly with the guests' heartbeats. Wine flowed into glasses like on any classic summer evening. Guests laughed, chatted, took photos. Everything seemed perfect. Almost too perfect.
Mason—or rather, Noah—moved among them. Cool, polite, charming. That's how they wanted to remember him. That's how they wanted to see him. But beneath the surface of his gaze lay an abyss. Every gesture was rehearsed. Every smile calculated. Even his glances had their meaning.
Each drink had a different composition. Some received something calming, others something to stir up confusion in their memories. And still others—substances meant to unlock what had been buried for years. No one was chosen at random. No one was safe.
Jennifer was flirting with Jake. Olivia, who had invited herself to the party, was nervously watching Will, while Betty laughed loudly at nearly every comment, as if trying to prove she was still in control. Only Nancy didn't quite fit in. She sat at the railing, staring out at the water. Something about her felt off. As if she sensed more beneath the surface than she wanted to admit.
Mason sat down across from her.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
Nancy looked up.
"This is all weird. Too quiet for you. Are you really okay? Since the tragedy... you seem different."
He smiled wider.
"Maybe I've just grown up."
She replied with a smile, but something in her eyes said she didn't buy it. They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Nancy stood up and walked away, leaving behind the echo of an unspoken truth.
At that very moment, a new guest appeared on the deck—Daniel. He stood uncertainly at the entrance, gripping the railing as if already regretting coming. His invitation had arrived unexpectedly, with no explanation.
Only a date. Only a location.
Mason approached him with a wide, forced smile.
"Daniel, how nice of you to come. Finally." There was something in his voice beyond enthusiasm. Something colder. Deeper.
Daniel nodded, not quite sure how to behave.
"I suspected the invitation was from you, but I wanted to see if I was right. What do you want? I thought you hated me."
"Why wouldn't I? You were friends with my brother, and this party is to honor his memory." Mason spread his arms, as if presenting the whole celebration. "Besides… sometimes you have to face the past head-on, right?"
Daniel felt cold sweat run down his neck. He knew something was wrong. Mason wasn't here to thank him for being friends with his late brother. He wanted revenge—for having the audacity to fall in love with him, for ruining his life...
Coming here had been a mistake. This man would never change.
"You look good," Mason said, squinting slightly. "Too bad not everyone knows what your role really was in that story. Weren't you the one who caused all the trouble?" he added through clenched teeth, sipping his drink. A few heads turned.
Daniel clenched his fists.
"What do you want?" he hissed quietly.
"The truth," Mason replied. "And I want everyone to hear it before this party ends."
*
Daniel stood alone by the railing, a glass of untouched wine in his hand, watching the waves crash against the side of the yacht. The laughter and conversations behind him seemed to come from another world. He knew this invitation hadn't been an act of goodwill. He'd felt it the moment he stepped on board. And now, he was sure—Mason had just been waiting for the right moment to destroy him. The humiliating jabs and laughter with his friends had only confirmed it.
Inside the lounge, the party continued. Noah—Mason's second persona—moved from guest to guest, handing out compliments with a smile and glancing discreetly at Daniel, as if monitoring his every move. Finally, he raised his glass and tapped it with his nail. A metallic ring echoed across the deck.
"Attention! I have something to say!" he called, and the chatter slowly died down.
Daniel felt his body tense once again in anticipation.
"I'd like to thank someone," Mason began with a wide grin. "For contributing to my inner death."
Everyone turned to look at Daniel as Mason pointed at him with his glass.
"Daniel," he said, almost tenderly. "A fucking faggot who ruins the lives of innocent people."
Daniel swallowed hard.
"Stop," he muttered. "This isn't the right time to dig this up."
"Oh, but it's the perfect time," Mason replied. "Everyone here pretends they're innocent, that the tragedy was just an unfortunate accident. But tonight… tonight the reckoning begins!"
The tension among the guests rose. Jennifer whispered something to Jake. Betty stopped laughing. Nancy set down her glass.
Mason stepped closer to Daniel. Their faces were simply inches apart.
"You ruined my life, you bastard."
Before anyone could react, Mason backed away and addressed the group again:
"Let this night be real. Let each of you confess what you've done. Or… let me do it for you."
The lights went out. Silence fell.
Will's scream from below deck sliced through the night like a blade. Someone knocked over a glass that shattered on the floor, amplifying the chaos. The darkness that engulfed the yacht was thick, almost tangible—as if it cloaked them in a black veil where every sound took on a terrifying significance.
The friends clutched their heads, staggering as if drunk. But this wasn't ordinary intoxication. Their eyes were wide, their movements uncoordinated, their breaths shallow. Jennifer stared in horror as Olivia clung to the railing, screaming that something was watching her from beneath the water. Jake mumbled something unintelligible to himself, while Betty started laughing hysterically—for no reason at all.
"What's happening?!" Nancy screamed, trying to cut through the noise.
Ethan, who stood calmly at the helm, looked at Mason as if watching everything unfold from a detached distance.
"Mason?" he asked quietly.
Mason stepped closer and leaned in to speak just to him:
"Stick to the plan. Head for the island. They won't resist anymore."
"What did you give them?" Ethan spoke under his breath, though he already suspected the answer.
"Only what everyone desires most," Mason whispered, as Noah, with a hint of irony. "An illusion of freedom."
Ethan was silent for a moment, watching as more of the friends lost control. Nancy tried to calm Olivia, who was crying and rambling about "decaying faces below deck."
The lights began to flicker. Music started blaring from the speakers—distorted, full of static, like it was playing from a broken tape.
"Ethan," Mason grabbed his arm. "Drive. It's time."
The boy nodded. He fixed his eyes on the dark line of the horizon, where the island was rising from the gloom like a shape from a fever dream.
Behind them, the party was slowly descending into chaos. No one remembered why they came. No one knew they had been chosen. But Mason—as Noah—remembered. He remembered everything.