Talk Fast || DNF

Chapter 1

Dream would be lying if he said his college experience was particularly spectacular. So much of college is glorified by movies and books, but at the end of the day, it really was just school. Maybe Dream was just boring. He was beginning to consider that an option since his roommate seemed to be having the time of his life. A year above him, the boy was almost never home, always spending the night somewhere else, probably with someone else, but it wasn't like Dream was close enough with him to ask. So, he lived in quiet curiosity every time his roommate came home at odd hours of the morning in his clothes from the night before and his hair a mess. They only really crossed paths once a day, it was relatively peaceful. Dream would say good morning as he left for his early soccer practice, his roommate would make some offhand comment about how stupid the name 'soccer' was, and then they went about their days. There were worse roommates out there, Dream supposes.

"You going to Alex's party tonight?" a voice interrupts Dream's thoughts as a ball is hurled at his chest. He catches with ease, dropping it to the turf so he can kick it around absentmindedly as he processes the question. "I think your roomie's gonna be there, maybe you could hitch a ride with him."

"Karl, we have practice at seven in the morning tomorrow," the blond scoffs, "I don't even think George likes me, I doubt he'd give me a ride even if I wanted one. Besides, he doesn't drive. Never seen that man grab a pair of keys in my life."

The brunet just shrugs at this, catching the ball with his foot as Dream kicks it over to him. "If you've never come to practice with a hangover, you're doing it wrong, trust."

Dream rolls his eyes, his head shifting to look at the sun rising above the hills. He couldn't imagine getting blackout wasted and then rolling out of bed at five in the morning to go kick a ball around. He shudders at the thought. "I don't drink. And I have a paper due tomorrow, thanks for the invite, though."

It's not a lie, he does have a paper due tomorrow. However, the paper is already written and done with, except for maybe a few edits. Still, Dream is going to cling onto that excuse as much as he can. It's not that he doesn't like to hang out with his team, he loves his team, but it is simply never fun to be the only sober person at a party. He really just doesn't get the charm in loosening your inhibitions and voluntarily making a fool of yourself. Plus, he promised his mom he wouldn't drink when he got to college. He's held up that promise for a year, what's three more?

"Lame!" Karl exclaims, kicking the ball harshly in his direction. Dream ducks, knowing it was too high for him to catch, giving Karl a look that can only be described as ' What the fuck, dude?' to which the boy just shrugs and throws him a lopsided grin. "Oops."

So, that's how Dream ends up alone in his dorm, editing his paper. Then again, this is how he spends most of his nights and he's really not complaining. There's an energy drink on his desk, half full, as he pours over his laptop, moving things around and making sure everything sounds like he knows what he's talking about. He hardly even realizes the time, but it's already past midnight.

He lets his mind wander to the party for just a moment, wondering if it would have been more fun than this. It absolutely would have, but Dream made his choice. It's not like he's entirely missing out, he'll attend parties on the weekends because those are always larger and have more designated driver friends for him to wake up to. Also because he doesn't have to wake up before the sun on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Still, it's a Wednesday, and he needs to edit this paper instead of wondering how his drunk friends are doing.

The last thing he expects as the clock ticks past twelve-thirty is for the door to his dorm room to slam open. There's George in all his glory, something Dream has never seen at this hour. He doesn't even look particularly trashed. Instead, he looks undoubtedly pissed off.