hotline - dreamwastaken x reader

12-incoming call

The sound of Ray's fingernails rapidly clacking against her cracked iPhone screen was calming. It was a nervous habit she had picked up in eighth grade, when she had first started to flirt with boys over text. After sending a risky text she would stare intently at the screen and let the anxious energy come out through her thumbs with each tap. This was different, though. She wasn't flirting with this guy, they were only friends, so why did she feel like this?

Ray's train of thought was interrupted when the grey texting bubble was replaced by a short blue text message containing the words: "sure. just a sec".

Ray's confidence was immediately replenished. She let out a triumphant breath.

Of course he'd say yes. She was a pleasure to talk to after all, and anyone would be lucky to have her company.

Then why did she find herself doubting herself for a moment, thinking maybe he'd say no? Maybe he didn't think they were friends? Maybe he didn't find her presence as gracing as she made it out to be?

No. No, no, no, she was overthinking again, and she hated overthinking. She hated that he made her overthink. He had a way of working his way up into the crevices of her brain and settling there, only to make his presence known late at night. When she was trying to fall asleep, and all the worries she had been pushing aside were brought to the front of her brain. Like that one vine, "you can't get rid of me b****!"... Was that a vine? Or was it a tiktok? Or maybe it wasn't a real video at all and she just dreamt it...?

Ray was so immersed in her internal debate over where the video that she had been reminded of was from, she nearly missed the incoming call. She scrambled to swipe her thumb across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

The voice that responded was smooth and comforting. A bit f***boy-ish, but Ray could look past that.

At this point, Ray realized that she did not, in fact, know this man's name. Her original plan was to say 'Hey, (insert name here)!' and then continue on with the conversation, but that plan came to a screeching halt when she remembered that his contact name in her phone was simply, 'Bone Man'. She attempted to solve this by substituting in some random nickname, 'bud', 'dude', etc., but her mind was so fogged by her previous overthinking session that her brain wasn't exactly working too well.

So, what came out was,

"Hey, bone-buh-dud!"

Uncomfortable silence filled the air. Well, it was uncomfortable for Ray. She figured that the man on the other end was probably amused at the error she had made.

"Did you just have a stroke?"

She let out an annoyed sigh. "I will punch you so hard that I'll give you a stroke, mister."

"Jeez, way to make a first impression on call," he chuckled lightly. "and can you even give someone a stroke by punching them?"

"I will find a way to do it." She flopped down on her old, beat-up coach. "Just for you, bone man."

"Aww, how sweet."

She rolled her eyes at his comment. "So, what are you doing on this lovely, humid, 99-degree Saturday?"

"Well, I was about to play some Minecraft, but now you've got me curious and I'm looking up whether or not you can give someone a stroke by punching them."

Ray rested her head on the back of her couch and began to play with the cord to her dust-covered blinds.

You were overthinking for nothing. Just like you always do.

She mentally berated herself. This was fine! Nothing to worry about here. This was exactly like their text conversations.

"Well, can you?"

Ray could hear the faint clicking of a keyboard in the background.

"Uhh, it says... 'people who have had a traumatic brain injury face a tenfold increase in the risk of having a stroke within three months.'"

"Oh my god, dude, I'm an art student, you really think I understand all that s***?"

She could hear light laughter coming from her phone. God, his laughter was enthralling. Ethereal, almost? It made her feel... comfortable. Like that feeling you get when you're crying over something, and someone is hugging you and telling you it's all gonna be okay. He made her feel okay.

The laughter was short and sweet, but it was savored in the moment that it lasted. "You didn't tell me you were an art student?" He implored.

"Yeah, I wanna be a professional artist. Maybe an illustrator."

"Dang, that's awesome. Maybe you can paint a portrait of me," he joked.

"Hmm," she pretended to think about it. "On one hand, I'd finally get to see your face, but on the other, what if you're like... some old grandpa that's trying to get commissions for free or something?"

"Oh, come on," he teased. "Paint me like one of your French girls."

"Ohhh my god! I hate you. I hate you! That's it. Im hanging up."

But she did not in fact hang up. They talked for nearly two hours, about topics from Minecraft mobs to who could beat who in a fight. Ray eventually said goodbye and hung up, once her eyelids were getting too heavy to keep open, because she did NOT want to fall asleep on call with him.

And as she laid in bed, guess who crept back into her brain? Yeah, him. That's who. His voice, his presence, his laugh. And even though she knew she shouldn't be thinking of him, that this somehow wasn't right, she fell asleep with him on her mind.