Famous Hearts || Dreamnotfound

Preparation

~Dream~

He did not expect the rest of the band to be lounging and the lounge room as he entered the studio again from dropping George off.

Their heads jerked up when they heard the door slam shut behind Dream. Ranboo smiled--more like a smirk, "Dream! You're back! Where were you?"

"I went with George somewhere for the night."

"Oh?" Wilbur said.

"Really?" Karl said.

Ranboo leaned back on the couch, crossing one ankle over his knee and spreading his arms along the headrests. "What'd you guys do?"

Dream's cheeks heated up, "You dirty motherfuckers. No, we didn't fuck to answer your questions. In fact, he just showed me his favorite place."

Karl smirked and raised an eyebrow, "Your be--"

"KARL!" Dream scolded loudly and Wilbur smacked the back of his head.

Ranboo snickered, "There's nothing wrong with asking."

Dream crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

Wilbur laughed, "Aaaanywaaays, we're gonna get ready in about fourty five minutes so I'd just rest 'til then."

He looked up at the clock absentmindly, "Alright, I'll be in my room if any of you guys need me. Come and get me if you do, and knock for the love of God."

Ranboo lifted his brows, "Is George coming? The walls are th--"

"Fucking hell!" Dream groaned as he passed the lounge room and flipping them off as he passed.

The others all laughed behind him and he rolled his eyes as he sped up his pace.

They needed help.

What a surprise.

Note the sarcasm.

He opened his room door and stepped into the slowly growing familiar scent of it. The door locked with a click behind him and he sighed, looking around. It wasn't anything super fancy. The room was pretty much just a hotel room, just giving a different vibe.

It was too quiet in here. He pulled out his phone and smiled at the texts George sent and replied before pulling out his playlist and hitting play.

Going into the bathroom, he took off all his clothes, letting them drop into a pool around his feet. He turned the shower on and winced at the cold water as he stepped in. His golden locks quickly began to droop and water droplets dripped off the strands. Onto his face, his shoulders his back, and trailing down his body.

His hair was still dyed light green and to be honest, he liked it. A lot.

"Cross my heart and hope to die
Burn my lungs and curse my eyes
I've lost control and I don't want it back
I'm going numb, I've been hijacked
It's a fucking drag"

He couldn't help but to chuckle slightly. This song always came on at these...

Moments.

The moments when everything was perfect, everything was going great, life was awesome and boom, shit happens. He never liked that feeling. But he tried to ignore it.

"I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you
So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do
Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah"

He turned off the shower and stepped out, the water dripped down his body and onto the shiny tile, he wrapped a towel around his waist and shook out his hair, running his fingers through the locks.

"It's better to burn than to fade away
It's better to leave than to be replaced
I'm losing to you, baby, I'm no match
I'm going numb, I've been hijacked
It's a fucking drag"

He looked out the window as he stepped out of the bathroom. The sky was turning pink and orange. The sun was slowly beginning to sink. Damn, how long was he in the shower?

"I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you
So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do
Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah"

It wasn't a struggle to find somewhere to wear. He was going to get some clothes for the concert tonight in about five minutes.

Fuck.

Five minutes.

"Just one more hit and then we're through
'Cause you could never love me back
Cut every tie I have to you
'Cause your love's a fucking drag
But I need it so bad
Your love's a fucking drag
But I need it so bad"

He scrambled to find something to where. Anything. Sighing, he ended up with simple black sweatpants and a hoodie. Nothing special. Because as he said, he was gonna get some clothes for tonight soon.

"Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah, you're worse than nicotine, nicotine
Yeah"

Someone knocked on his door.

Perfect timing.

He shut off his music and opened the door, finding one of the stylists, Emily.

"Dream!" She said, "Hello! I wasn't expecting you to open the door so quickly! Are you ready?"

Dream chuckled and smiled, stepping out of his room, "Yup. Ready Ems. The rest of the band and I agreed to keep it simple, but not so simple. If you know what I mean."

Emily grinned, "Yes, yes. I know, Carter told me before I went to go grab you." She begun walking and Dream followed close behind and he reached up to ruffle her hair, "It's your guys' two year anniversary tomorrow, right?"

She glowered at him playfully, "Yes! It is!"

"Well then, I'll say congrats now, since I may not see you tomorrow. So, congrats!"

Emily laughed, "Thanks, Dream."

They entered a room full of mirrors, outfits, make up, hair supplies, everything. Emily directed him towards a seat and he sat down. Immediately, Emily began her work with his hair.

She blow-dried his still quite wet hair and once dried, she fluffed it up and re-dyed the tips, and she made it reach higher on his strands than before, in which he liked quite a lot.

Spinning him around, she grabbed the green eyeshadow and begun his make up. She added green eyeshadow, thick black eyeliner and some darker green sparkles around and under his eyes.

She painted his nails lime-green and black and ushered him out of his seat. He quickly followed her to a dressing room and a few options of outfits.

A dark green jacket over a black button-up shirt--with a few buttons un-buttoned with white, ripped jeans and black shoes. That's what he chose. Simple, but not so simple.

"So," Emily began, "I heard you singing this specific song and I'm curious: Is it dedictated to anyone?"

He ducked his head away, "Perhaps."

She laughed, "I've told you before I can tell, now go backstage, the audience is beginning to arrive."
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Word Count: 1128