After Fire - Dreamnotfound

Ten|georgenotfound

November 5th
We finally charged our phones, and at first it I was excited. I got to hear from my friends again, and they messaged me A LOT. However, it quickly turned for the worst when Clay's mom called us.

George wasn't popular. The only people who reached out to him were Tommy and Wilbur. However, he was easily mistaken as popular because of the frequency in which his two best friends constantly spammed him. The moment his phone had been resurrected from its technological death, it blew up with a whole day's worth of spams and messages coming in all at once to the point he had to silence his phone.

Clay sat across from him slurping away at his morning coffee as he watched George struggle to keep up with the notifications. The morning diner they sat at was quiet with it being past the breakfast rush. In fact, it was nearly noon. Their table sat against a wall, and between their seats were outlets. They each charged their phones with George's coming to life first.

"You can mute them, you know," He said.

"I did that once. They blocked me for the rest of the school year." He watched the notifications come in, and he nearly spat out his breakfast when he saw a missed call from someone whose contact name wasn't 'The Child' or 'Wilbur Soot'. "Drista called me yesterday."

"Really? She told me she hates calling," Clay replied as he bit into his breakfast burrito. "Either she's pissed off or scared. Those are the only two occasions she's ever called me."

His phone buzzed, and his face paled as he checked the notification. "I missed a call from my mom." He brought the phone up to his ear and sat back. He took slow, deep breaths as he listened to the phone ring. When his mom picked up, he sat up and ruffled up his hair. "Hi mom—" He cut himself off, and the small voice of his mother nagging him could be heard from across the table. Clay glanced up at George for a brief moment before the latter's personal phone went off.

Tommy: GEORGE IF YOU DONT ANSWER RIGHT NOW THEN YOU'RE CONFIRMING THAT YOU LIKE DICK

Wilbur: There's nothing wrong with George liking dick, Tommy

Tommy: shut up, dickhead. I'm trying to get him to answer
Tommy: HE READ IT GEORGE ANSWER RIGHT NOW

George had begun to type up a response when Clay slipped out of the booth. He stepped up to George and handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

"Can you pay?" He asked, still holding the phone to his ear.

"We just got here, how long is that going to take?" He took the money anyway, and Clay left without another word. As George peered over his shoulder, the younger boy exited the restaurant. Before his mind could wander, his phone went off again, and he went to finish up his response only to find Drista was calling him. He picked up.

"Where are you?" Drista said the moment he picked up. She didn't sound mad or scared as Clay had assumed. She sounded indifferent. If she had felt any strong emotions, she hid it well enough for George to not pick up on it.

"Having breakfast," He replied.

"Why did you and Clay just fall off the face of the Earth yesterday?"

"Both of our phones died. We're fine, Drista. I'm keeping your brother out of trouble." He could hear the chatter of the lunchroom in the background. It reminded him of how he up and left. He should have been in the cafeteria right now with either Bad and Skeppy or Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity. There were things he forgot to do before he unexpectedly left such as giving Techno back his homework and gathering all his friends' numbers. The only number he had was Bad's, and he never used it and preferred to use socials that George didn't have.