Brielle's smile thinned. "What is he doing?"
What happened next is something those students will never forget.
Behind him, the large projector screen flickered on.
"I have no idea," her friend whispered.
Mason's eyes searched the crowd until they found her. He didn't blink.
"Brielle," he said, "before you leave tonight, I think everyone deserves to see what you really planned."
The room shifted. Phones lowered. Parents straightened. A teacher near the doors took one slow step forward, but did not stop him.
A slide popped up on the screen, and Brielle screamed.
"I think everyone deserves to see what you really planned."
"Somebody get him off the stage!" Brielle cried, looking around.
Nobody moved.
The first slide showed a screenshot of a group chat, names visible, time stamps clean.
The header read, simply: "Loser Watch."
I heard a parent behind me gasp.
"This is a chat that's been running for seven months," Mason said evenly. "The kids in it rank students, rate their appearances, and plan what they call 'lessons.'"
He clicked. Another screenshot. Then another.
"Somebody get him off the stage!"
I saw Mason's own name.
I saw cruel words about him I had never heard before. I felt my throat close.
"Turn it off," Brielle snapped. "This is private. He hacked us. Someone call the police."
"I didn't hack anything," Mason said, calm as still water. "Somebody in that chat sent these to me. Somebody in this room who finally got tired of pretending."
Brielle's face turned red as she rounded on her friends. "Which one of you did this to me?"
"Someone call the police."
Hannah, standing at Brielle's elbow, lowered her eyes.
"What?" Brielle whispered, turning. "Hannah? You did this?"
Hannah didn't answer.
Mason kept going. "I've been working on this with Mr. Avery, our counselor, since October. It was supposed to be shown at next week's assembly. I wasn't going to use it tonight."
