There was a hint of nervousness in Mason’s voice, but I doubted anyone would notice it. He looked incredible. His chiseled face was framed perfectly with dirty-blond locks, and his muscular body was obvious beneath the white T-shirt.
“I have to say I’m honored you chose this as your first public interview.”
“It’s for a good cause that’s deeply personal to me.”
The interviewer smiled. “When did you find out you were dyslexic?”
The question stunned me. I planted myself on one of the kitchen stools. Mason told the label about his learning disability? He’d been so scared to do it the last time I brought it up.
“My official diagnosis came when I was in my first year of college, but I knew I had problems with reading from when I was much younger.”
“Did it help you to get it professionally diagnosed?”
“It did. I wish I’d done it sooner, but unfortunately—” he adjusted his position, “—in my family, there was a stigma around it.”
My mouth parted. Oh my God, he was really opening up about it.
“It’s something a lot of young kids struggle with,” the interviewer replied. “But clearly, neither the stigma, nor your relatively late diagnosis held you back.”
“The key for me was decoupling my personal definition of success with what society insists success means. I’ve always loved drumming, and it’s a lot easier to get really good at something you love. So, I left college and decided to pursue my true passion, which was music.”
“Do you have any advice for the younger people listening to this interview who are worried dyslexia might make a career in music a challenge?”
“I don’t think there’s anyone in the music industry who can honestly tell you it will be easy,” Mason said, a charming smile pulling on his lips. The interviewer laughed. “It’s true that for folks with learning disabilities, people like myself, some things will be harder than for the average person. I struggle with reading and writing to this day. If I have a melody or beat in my head, I need to get it down right away or I lose it. But all of this just motivates me to work harder, and at the end of the day, that passion has been far more important for my career than anything else.”
“Thank you very much, Mason. Is there anything else you’d like to share with our viewers?”
At this, Mason turned to face the camera directly. “I want to thank someone very important to me.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“For most of my life, I was very scared to share this part of myself with the people around me, but this individual made me realize I have nothing to be ashamed of. Their support and acceptance means everything to me.”
“Is he talking about you?” Cole asked, coming to stand by me.
I nodded, unable to speak past the ball in my throat.
“Sounds like a special person,” the interviewer said.
“They are.”
“Well, thanks again for your time.”
I turned off my phone and stared blankly at the darkened screen. “He went public.”
“Brave of him,” Cole said, squeezing my shoulder before going back to the stove.
The urge to call Mason right this second was nearly overwhelming. How did he feel now that the interview was live? Was he happy about it? Relieved? I wanted to be there for him, because I knew it had to have been a difficult decision to make. My fingers curled around my phone.
You walked out on them, remember?the wild thing murmured.Are you ready to admit you were wrong?
Wrong? No, I wasn’t ready to admit that. Maybe I did help Mason come to terms with his dyslexia in some small way, but that didn’t mean I had more to give.
A question came to mind. Had they signed the deal? I’d know when I returned to work on Monday, but my curiosity wanted to be sated now.
Pulling up a search engine, I typed in “Last Rites WMI.”
Nothing.
