All In Love Is Fair (dreamnotfound)

3: Shooting Stars

Shooting Stars by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

It's kind of funny. For the first time in all the years Dream and George have known each other they didn't text each other first thing after waking up. One of the two always managed to text the other. Most of the time it was just simple 'good morning' but the gesture was enough to let the other know they were still there. Waking up with no message from Dream tore at George's heartstrings, he needed something. Anything from Dream, to show how he felt or what he was thinking. The only thing George can do is assume Dream is pissed and never wants to speak to him again. Dreams message from last night shown on the screen, 'I don't want to talk.' Did he just mean not right then? Maybe he meant never again. George cringed at the thought.

Shaking his head, George types out a message only to stare critically at it and delete it seconds later. He sighs dropping his phone on his chest. George doesn't know whether to scream or cry, granted he has already done both but neither helped in bringing him any sort of comfort or release from his emotions. Everything piled on so quickly. Just two days ago they were normal friends. Just two days ago everything was fine. In a matter of days and hours everything completely changed, so quick that George didn't even have time to prepare.

Eventually he managed to get up from his bed. Staring into the open fridge felt overwhelming. George couldn't tell if he wanted to eat everything in the kitchen or absolutely nothing. He settled on a bowl of cereal, keeping the box and milk jug near by so he could have several bowls. A blank expression sat on George's face as he scarfed down the food. His phone inches away on the kitchen counter, screen black and unwavering. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want to remember that he's potentially ruined his friendship with the person he loves the most.

On the other side of the ocean Dream lies on his bare twin sized mattress. He would've put a sheet on it this morning but he can't seem to pull himself up, Dream figures he'll never get up again. Overnight his body has become one with his bed, seeping into it like butter on warm toast. If only it was something delicious like that, the feeling in Dreams gut. Instead it was this heavy aching repugnance. Pulling at his hair and punching the wall beside his bed didn't seem to ease the feeling. Dream sat up at his desk nearly all night, eyes locked on the picture of George holding a ballpoint pen. He'd desperately squint his eyes begging for the image to distort. Dream demanded it to change, for the stupid mark on George's stupid hand to not be a carbon copy of his and just disappear.

Dream has lived for twenty one years telling himself that he is one hundred percent sure of exactly who he is. He has ignored every time he's felt something he deemed 'not normal'. He doesn't want to be 'one of those people'. He has engrained countless damaging thoughts and beliefs into his brain. Dream spent his teen years dating girls. In fact, he dated so many girls he was known for being a bit of a fuckboy. He went through relationships so quickly because they could never provide Dream with what he truly desired. Somehow kissing the hottest girl in school didn't stand a chance to making Dream feel as good as when the cute boy from third period gave him a hug. Even with booming evidence that Dream didn't ever like girls he still stood strong in his claim that he's straight.

Throughout Dreams life, every once and a while he will take a glance at the birthmark on his hand. It's strange, he never really noticed it when he was a kid. He was too busy throwing dirt at his sisters and shooting at the neighbors kid with his nerf gun to pay regard to the small shape. When Dream got older and questioned his mom about it she simply told him it was a birthmark and left it there. It wasn't until Dream got older and a friend told him that everyone has a birthmark but only one person has the exact same one as him that he found out truly what it was. Honestly, Dream didn't pay it too much mind, he assumed if it was a big deal his mom would've gave him more details.

But Dream couldn't help paying it mind when he could feel a weak tingle in it. It would usually tingle in the night. A soft buzz in the area of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger, right where the wonky star like shape is placed. The feeling was so subtle that Dream could usually ignore it and fall asleep, but sometimes it was stronger. When Dream was around thirteen years old the feeling intensified. Then around three years ago the feeling almost completely disappeared. He wanted to assume that all that time it was some sort of muscle spasm but his gut told him that can't be right. Secretly Dream wanted the soft feeling to come back. He had become so accustom to it that for a few months it was strenuous to fall asleep without it.

Two days ago he felt the tingle again, for the first time since it disappeared three years ago. Dream felt it all throughout the morning and the whole day he was on Sapnap's stream and the whole night. He spent the day frequently kneading the skin where the mark lies on top. Dream was so confused as to why it was suddenly back and seemingly stronger than ever. But his questions were soon answered when George sent him a picture of his hand. At first Dream didn't even notice.

"What? A pen?" Dream laughed nervously. He pinched his phone screen to zoom in. Maybe there's something in the background and this is a joke? He brought the device closer to his face to get a better look.

His body froze when he noticed it. "George? your- the-" Words failed to arrange themselves properly in Dreams throat. His phone slid out of his weak grasp on it. His hand swiftly finding the mouse from his computer and ending the call with George. Dreams mouth ran incredibly dry but he couldn't seem to reach out for his water bottle that was mere inches away. It only took a few seconds for Dreams shock to shift into anger. The ping of a text message from George made Dream want to throw his phone across the room.

"Dream?"

Hot tears of anger stung the dry skin of Dreams face. His fingers swiftly opening up George's contact info and hovering over the 'block this caller' option. He wanted to do it, he wanted to block George. Block him everywhere he had him added, everywhere he knew he existed. Pretend he never even knew George. Imagine that all the times George made his heart skip a beat didn't even happen.

"I don't want to talk."

"What do you mean?" Sapnap questioned.

George huffed, switching the call to speaker so he could set it down on the table in front of him, "He just like hung up and said he doesn't want to talk to me anymore." He ran his hands through his hair tugging harshly to distract from the painful headache he's had since last night. George can practically hear Sapnap scrunch up his face in confusion, "Why would he say that? Did something happen?" The concern was clear in Sapnaps voice. George fought a quick war in his mind deciding whether or not to tell Sapnap the real reason why Dream suddenly loathed him. "Did you see the video he posted of his hand?" George released the grip on his hair and grabbed his phone back off the table, scrolling through to send the picture to Sapnap.

"Uh yeah." Sapnap sounded understandably confused. George pressed send, the quiet whoosh noise emitting from the speaker. "After Dream posted the video I noticed something on his hand, a birthmark that looks exactly like mine." he bit his lip in anticipation. After a second of silence Sapnap screeched, voice cracking in the middle of his words, "What the fuck?!" George felt himself recoil at Sapnaps reaction. "You're soulmates! Oh my God! Do you know how rare that is?! What are the chances? Holy shit!" George raised his eyebrows, Sapnap sounded surprisingly elated at the news.

Sapnaps booming voice made George want to shush him, even though there was no one there to overhear the conversation. "I know. I wish Dream was half as happy about it as you are.." George trailed off picking at a crack in the table. "Why isn't he though?" Sapnaps voice dropped back down a more normal volume. "I don't know Sap! That's why I called you, you idiot!" His teeth clenched in his jaw as he rolled his eyes as far back in his head as he could manage. Sapnap blew out a huff of air from his lungs, producing a faux wind noise from George's speaker. "Okay, okay. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Could you? That might be a good idea." George bit the inside of his cheek. Sapnap quickly agreed and soon hung up. George stared at the lock screen of his phone, the default Apple wallpaper stared back. He knew the last thing Dream wants is for George to bombard him with texts so George sent a simple,

"Are you okay?"