i h8 u (seriously)

8

"Why do I keep putting myself in this position?" I cried out on the phone to Dream. I may have accidentally forgotten timezones exist and woke him up around eight in the morning his time.

"He seems to be really trying though, Isla," Dream empathized with George and I wasn't sure if that made me pissed or comforted.

"That makes me panic more!" I screeched, "Like he doesn't insult me anymore! What's that about? It makes me feel like I did something wrong, gives me a panicky feeling."

"So let me get this straight," Dream started, "It makes you panic if he's mean to you like usual, and it makes you panic if he's nice to you?"

"Yes," I pouted, twirling my Rubik's cube on my desk in random directions to distract myself from this conversation.

"So George in general just makes you panic," he more-so stated.

"I guess," my voice got quiet, the only sound being the turning of the cube. I let Dream sit with the convo for a minute because sometimes he needs time to process what we were talking about.

"Is it possible that you panic being around him because you don't know him well at all? So it's like being around a stranger?"

I felt like I was in a therapy session right now except for the fact that I didn't talk to my therapist about George. We focused more on the fact that I could barely leave my house. We're trying to work on making my panic more habitable.

"Maybe," I finally responded in a tone that read 'I don't like it when you read me and it's right'.

"All's I'm saying is maybe give him a chance? Like, maybe invite him to hang out after stream?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I deadpanned.

"What?"

"Invite him to hang out? And do what? Hm?"

"Watch a movie...or something?"

"Yeah okay," I scoffed, "I'll try."

There was a knock on the door and I wasn't sure if it picked up on my phone microphone or not. I told Dream that George was here and ended the call with him. When I got to the door, George had a brown bag in his hand that he passed over to me. I looked in and saw a container full of orange chicken.

I gasped, "Oh my god! I've been craving this all week!"

He laughed, "I know, Dream told me."

"You and Dream talked about me?" I eyed him before going to get a fork from the kitchen.

George rubbed at his neck awkwardly, "Well I didn't know what food to get. We never talked about it and I feel like it's my thing to bring you food when I come over."

I stirred the orange chicken around in the rice as I debated in my mind asking George if he wanted to continue to watch Over the Garden Wall with me. I worked myself up to say it, then completely chickened out and just told him my setup was ready to use whenever. He left to go stream and I sat on the couch having a panic attack.

During the time he was in the among us game, I really began doubting myself and whether I was capable of taking Dream's advice. Did I even want to spend more time than needed with George? Being around him makes me panic more than I'd like to admit. Dream was right though. George was a complete stranger to me. I knew just about as much as the fans did. In fact, I probably knew less than the fans did.

Two hours later the among us game was over and instead of giving him the cold shoulder and trying to get him out of my flat almost immediately, I made some small talk with him. Sure, it was painful and I felt awkward the entire time, but maybe it'd make Dream happy. That seemed to be the only thing to motivate me to get things done: appeasing my friends.