drag me in. {dreamnotfound}

Lost.

The next day George was forced to endure a three hour movement class (okay, so it was actually a mime class but nothing else fit in his schedule and it counted toward his degree, so don't judge). He couldn't seem to focus, though, constantly replaying his date with Dream over and over in his head and probably overanalyzing every single second of it. The instructor had already yelled at him twice for not paying attention, but George just couldn't help it. The cute green eyed boy was all he could think about.

He daydreamed about what they would do that night. It would be a long train ride after a long night and morning, and George probably hate every second of it. But it would all be worth it when  Dream opened the door with that remarkable smile of his, inviting him inside and showing him around the sure to be immaculately decorated apartment. They would spend the entire night talking and laughing, maybe even kissing.

"Davidson!"

George's head shot up, almost falling to the floor in surprise.

"Yes, Ms. Dune?" he asked quietly, realizing the other students had started forming rows to practice whatever the instructor had been speaking about.

"If you would like to join the class, instead of wasting my time and the time of your fellow students?" she said nastily.

It was funny. He knew exactly what Nicki would say to the teacher, but George just felt terrible about being a distraction.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, though he doubted she had even heard him. He found a place in the line farthest back from the instructor and tried his best to copy the other students. He wished he had heard her explanation of the movements so he knew what he was doing. George hated feeling lost.

Just two more hours to go, he thought to himself, almost tripping over himself again.

George managed to muddle through, though he received more than a few glares from the teacher. After exchanging goodbyes and a few pitied glances with the other students, he escaped the room. He just barely managed to stop himself from skipping down the hallway.

On the way back to his apartment, George stopped for more fast food, knowing he would be hungry again by the time he got to Dream's. Briefly he wondered if he should work on his diet — as eating greasy fast food almost every day is probably not good for a person's health — but he shook it off as he walked down into the subway.

The food, of course, was gone before he got home.

Between the late night at work and the early — was eleven early? — class, George figured he could sneak in a little nap before he had to start getting ready for dinner. He was apparently even more tired than he thought; the brunette fell asleep diagonally across his bed before he could even crawl under the covers.

He awoke to a strange ringing in his ears. After groggily tossing his head back and forth he was able to identify the ringing coming from his phone.

"Hello?" George's voice was gravelly.

"Hey, I thought tonight was your date?" Wilbur asked, huffing slightly at the sleepiness in George's voice.

"Yeah, it is. Why are you calling me?"

"I was just going to leave a voicemail. You still gotta bring the beer tomorrow, or Jack will be pissed but Tommy decided to come so he's bringing some shit over or whatever. Were you asleep?"

"Yup." George turned over to bury his face into his pillow.

"I thought you were going to Dream's at six-thirty? It's already five. Shouldn't you be frantically changing hair clips before running out the door right now?"