You're Okay, I Guess.

Sunflower

A.N. — I haven't included a meme today, just because today's chapter is more on the serious side. Listen to this track instead, it fits the vibe.

Hope you enjoy :)

*TW: ANXIETY, LOTS OF SWEARING, DRUG USE, MENTIONS OF HEART-BREAK*

DREAM POV

It happened the next day.

It came too suddenly, too out of nowhere. It took him by surprise, and not in a good way. It made his stomach churn, and his head hurt, and his heart race. In the simplest way to say it, Clay felt nauseous when he read the text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Clayton. When were you going to tell me about George, eh?

No. No. NO. This can't be. How does he know?

Unclenching his fist, he hit the buttons on his phone keyboard, furiously writing out a reply.

How do you know about me and George. I swear on my life Daniel, if you so much as look at him I will end you.

He waited for an answer, watching the "..." at the bottom of his screen as his ex-boyfriend responded.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Bold statement.

I have his address.

Clay clapped a hand to his mouth. He felt his blood boil.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

I'm not gonna hurt anyone. I just wanna talk.

Clay's hands shook as he typed his response.

You fucking creep. You're lying.

He got up from the kitchen stool and began to pace the living room nervously. George was still asleep, thank god.

He's bluffing. There's no way he would have found George's address.

Clay froze as he saw the next text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

*attachment: 1 image*

Clay opened the picture and almost had a heart-attack. He immediately recognized the image being displayed on his phone screen: it was the outside of George's apartment complex.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

Still need convincing?

* * *

GEORGE POV

George woke up and quickly remarked the absence of his boyfriend. He walked around the apartment, and, when he was certain that he was no where to be found, grabbed his phone. He had one new text notification from Clay. He stared at the text, confused.

CLAY BLOCK 💚

Have 2 deal with some stuff. Will be back soon

Right off the bat, there were two things about this text that let George know that something was very wrong. The first was that Clay never left off a text without a ":)" or a "<3" or some form of emoji. The second was that Clay, never, ever didn't specify what he was doing if he needed to go out somewhere.

George clicked the top of his screen where the "call" button was located. He put the phone to his ear, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voicemai-"