Play your part (and avoid the look in his eyes)

Part 18

Weeks pass like wind when you barely know you're awake. It's not like Dream wasn't aware of the time passing, but just seeing it all, feeling the days rush past him - I guess he just didn't want to believe it.

He felt as though he had months to tell George his true feelings. It was almost as if he had convinced himself that George would be with him forever, that the two were inseparable when in reality they were always separated. Everytime he got the brunette alone and asked to speak to him, he'd back out and make up some strange excuse to shut his mouth and run his feet in a different direction. He never actually got to speak the words that sat perfectly on the tip of his tongue.

So he guesses that's how he found himself here, with a lump in his chest and a written note in his hand. George lay (assumed) asleep in his trailer, while Dream packed his bags and found himself no longer needed in the last remaining scenes with George and his parents.

A number and sentence was written on the brightly coloured note, Dream's final take on admitting everything to George... without actually admitting it. A piece of tape lay stuck to the top of the square, a final attempt at keeping the note secure as he abandoned it. He wanted to make sure he had the best chance at keeping George in his life.

"Clay, we ready?" A driver Dream didn't know the name of sat waiting a few feet behind him. His engine sat moaning against the harsh rain, the sound a distant hun in Dream's ringing ears. He stands, tapping his feet to the beat of the rain. "Yeah, just-" He takes a minute to breathe. "Just give me a second." He huffs, pulling his index finger away from the tape to hear it unstick and feel the rain press against the pad of his finger. He slaps the note up against the door he'd so many times beat, pressing it down with the pad of his thumb to ensure it stayed stuck strong onto the material he still hadn't figured the name of yet. He knocks on the material anyway, imagining that the sound would wake up the goth and bring him to the door to see his note.

Maybe the door was wood- plastic- a mixture? Was that even possible? Whatever, Dream lets a rush of wind pass through his nose, his fist tightening into an unneeded fist before he turns and stamps his feet into the puddles. He knows he is immature, he knows they're adults and need to speak about their feelings. He knows, he knows, he knows. But this is the only way he could think of, the only way he was able to actually go through with his plan before wanting to curl himself into a ball and cry at the simple thought of George spitting at his feet and calling him a freak at his confession.

Dream sits silent in the back of the cab, his head turned to look out the rain covered window as he watched blurs of passing lights fly past his eyes. Casually, he would check his unsilenced phone - convinced that maybe somehow a notification had gone ignored and that someone (George) had messaged him. But as expected, he hasn't. It almost saddens the ginger to see the empty screen but there's not much he can do on such a miserable morning while most people sleep.

He can't shake the feeling of George seeing the note and throwing it away, that even after all of this time - his stupidly discovered feelings and horrid act - everything will be lost between them. The same lump from earlier that day settles in Dream's stomach. He's finally decided to label it as dread - regret. He shouldn't have put that stupid note on George's door, he shouldn't have been so gullible to his own mind. 

Slowly, the day of checking his phone turns into days, and then weeks, eventually ending in months. Each passing day filling Dream with even more of his own regret, the lump slowly swallowing at his organs and overtaking his body. George still hasn't messaged him, and waiting around for him was starting to feel hopeless.

Staring at the title of their movie, seeing both of the boys smiling together for a picture they were forced to take before Dream shoved George away in anger. His stomach fills with dread every time he remembers the boy, he can never bring himself to press play.

His family are ecstatic with the movie, complimenting Dream and even throwing him a fucking party - but it doesn't help with the void consuming his soul. He can't even watch the movie himself, all he can talk about is exaggerated versions of jokes behind the scenes, George's name never leaving the void of his tongue once.

It gets to the point where Dream doesn't check his phone for anything anymore. Well, he does, for certain things, and he still uses it to talk to Sapnap, Callahan, Alyssa and all of his other friends, but apart from that it's basically ignored. His messages have all been closed, with the app hidden somewhere he never checks on his home screen and Dream shoves the memory of George so far back into his mind that he barely reminds himself that he had ever existed.

Apart from when he does remember the brunette, and he cries to the thought of the brunette laughing at him to some awfully made music in the background.

Wc: 935