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Rain cascaded from the sky, barreling against Dream’s bedroom window, and further aggravating his impending migraine. The pitter-pattering was hard to ignore, and Dream simply wanted to wallow in peace with no distractions. Is that so much to ask for? As more days passed, his memories seemed to blur into one fuzzy ball. He had managed to make up a somewhat scheduled routine, which he was quite proud of.
Wake up, bathroom, drink, find food, go back to his room, drink some more, bathroom, sleep, repeat.
It was working now, so why change it? Occasionally the smell of his body odour became too pungent to ignore, and he would force himself to get up and sort his hygiene. But for the most part, his schedule was pretty much concrete.
He blindly reached out to where his alcohol was kept in his room but found none there. He used to keep it in the fridge but eventually noticed Sapnap had been slowly pouring them down the sink one by one. It lead to a full-blown argument and ended with slammed doors and faint fist marks on one of the walls. Their relationship was hanging by a thread, but George seemed to be the one holding the two together, so they continued to live together.
Dream grumbled to no one in particular, and forced himself to get out of bed. He changed into somewhat clean clothes and made his way outside to grab some more drinks. The people at the supermarket practically knew him by name by now. Although they were reluctant to sell him the alcohol, they had no real authority to prevent him from buying it. Still, they made sure to give him a pitiful look before he left. It only furthered his aggravation.
.
Once at home, Dream throws his keys onto the dining room table and makes his way to his room. He’s found himself spending more time in there recently, the rest of the house wrapped tight in an uncomfortable embrace. Even more so, whilst in his room, there's no Sapnap with his grating voice, or annoying babying to ruin his mood. The latter knows better than to come into his room now, seeing as he narrowly avoided a bottle being thrown directly to his head. Perhaps if Dream’s vision hadn’t been slightly hazed, he would have managed to hit him. The remains of the glass shards still lay scattered on the floor.
Neither goes into George’s room either. Every time he feels tempted to, George’s voice appears in his mind. Exasperated at the idea that his friends would go snooping through his room. The thought of having George’s anger directed at him is enough to keep him away from the room.
Another empty bottle was added to the growing pile on his desk, but as he reached over to uncap another, the sound of his door opening altered him of a new presence. He was ready to scream at Sapnap if he even thought about bringing up the idea of therapy one more time, but his voice died in his throat as soon as he turned around.
Mocha brown eyes are locked with viridian green. A ghost of a smile haunted the brunette's face. His eyes were sickeningly hollow, and his bones were threatening to break out from his pale skin. He looked like death personified. But he was still beautiful. Still serene. His eyes flickered to the empty bottles littering the table and Dream’s cheeks burned at the pitying gaze.
Even under the scrutinising eyes, Dream was desperate to reach out and grasp the alabaster skin in his hands. He felt a primitive need to hold him tight and never let go; to shield him from their current world, and rebuild it to George’s perfection. His Narnia, just for him. But as his arms rose George took half a step back, shaking his head in a muted ‘no’. The rejection hurt, and Dream was left standing with his arm half outstretched.
Blue-tinted lips moved, and yet no vibration carried through the air. He tried again, but still nothing. George’s brow furrowed in frustration, seemingly hitting a roadblock with communication. Dream was desperate to know what he craved to say. Why couldn’t he just say it?
George walked past him and towards the window, his gaze focused solely on something. Dream followed close behind, turning his gaze to where George had his locked.
“The beach?”, he murmured, mostly to himself. George nodded, bringing back the faint smile.
“The beach”, George’s lips repeated, still lacking the sound of life travelling through them. It was as if George was being propped up by a ventriloquist. His body was an empty shell of what he used to be.
“Out of alcohol?”, Sapnap asked as Dream slipped on his shoes. Snide remarks and sarcastic comments weren't anything new alongside Sapnap’s persistent coddling. Dream often chose to ignore them.
“I'm just getting some fresh air”, he grumbled back. The stale air in the house was a valid excuse. But still, he felt livid at Sapnap’s need to police his life. Driving would have been faster, but seeing as his vision broke into fragments of a kaleidoscope at almost every staggering step he took, he realised it wouldn't be the smartest idea.
The beach wasn’t too far. Probably around 20 minutes away. The last time Dream had come close to the beach was the party last summer. The party with sweat-stained bodies, glistening lights, and-
The beach was empty. It shouldn’t be surprising considering the frequent showers of rain and gloomy clouds they had been experiencing lately. But somehow it seemed fitting for the day. He walked along the sandy beach, ignoring the way the sand would occasionally find its way into his shoes, causing grating friction. What was he even there for? He only went because George had told him to. Because hollow mocha stared into his eyes with a silent plea; Save me.
Unsurprisingly, that was what had led him into the water. He remembers the sound of water surrounding George as he spoke frantically into his phone. He could still hear the sounds of George coughing up water, desperately trying to finish talking to him. The smell of alcohol and misery was prominent in his breath, making its way through his nose and back into his system with every step he took. An endless cycle. There was nowhere else to look. The rest of the beach was deserted, and George was here somewhere. He just had to find him. He just- he hand to find George. Where is George? Where is he?! Dream tangled his hands in his hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. He just wanted George, but he couldn't find him. George had to be here, right? George would never lie to him. He just has to check further in the water.
He has to find George.
He barely reached the point where his waist was fully submerged in the water before a hand latched onto his arm, pulling him back towards the shore.
“What the fuck are you doing, Dream?! Are you trying to kill yourself!”. It was Sapnap. Why was he always getting in the way? Dream just wants to get George back, but Sapnap is always getting in his way! The frustration was back, completely overtaking his desperation to find George.
“He told me- George told me to come to the beach, Sap!”. Sapnap stared back at him with shattered eyes, and no willpower left.
“That wasn’t- George didn’t ask you to come here, Dream”, he whispered back, trying to drag Dream out of the water by his wrist. The latter struggled in his grip.
“It was him, Sap. He came into my room this morning and told me-”
“IT WASN’T GEORGE, DREAM!”, Sapnap repeated, his voice breaking midway.
“George died last summer”, he said in a soft, almost apologetic, voice.
Just like that, he felt George’s phantom arms reach for his face, gently pulling the rose-tinted glasses away from his face. Memories of sleepless nights and tear-stained mattresses clouded his eyes, causing him to stumble and fall into the shallow water.
The memories of the first time he had put a bottle of alcohol up to his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste. Although the more he drank, the more his face heated, bringing a warm buzz flowing through his system. And the more he drank, the more he would get to see fragments of mocha eyes and pale skin. The more time he spent wallowing in self-pity, the more he would get to watch George trailing around his room. Observing, yet never speaking. He didn’t mind though, as long as he got to have George.
Although now, as he sat in salt water with his fists clutched between the sand, he wasn’t so sure.
.
Sapnap led Dream to the car in silence. He handed him his hoodie to sit on to prevent further ruining the seats. Dream took it, mumbling a quiet ‘Thanks’. The silence was throwing him into a whirlwind of emotions he had tried his best to drink away. Still, he’d rather die than try to start a conversation with Sapnap, so he put his AirPods in and began scrolling mindlessly through his phone.
In the car, Dream thinks of sweat-stained bodies grinding against each other. Of thrums and vibration carrying through an unknown person’s house, and nameless people shoving drink after drink into his hand. He thinks of party games and topless women. He thinks of Sapnap laughing and chatting away but doesn’t remember the ghost of George lingering through the hallways.
He thinks of faint sirens in the morning. He thinks of hushed words and morbid gazes.
” Do you think he knows?”
He thinks of Sapnap’s tear-stained face, leering closer and closer, and spitting hateful words.
” Why couldn’t you just check your fucking phone, Dream?!”
He thinks of the last automated message left on his phone, begging him to pick him up.
” I feel like I'm drowning, Dream”. A whispered confession.
.
Before he can stop himself, his hands drift to the lone voice message taking up all the space in his inbox. His heart rate increasingly sped up as he guided his fingers to the message.
Would you like to play this message from “George”, on the 17th of June?
Press one for ‘Yes’ press two for-
Beep
The sound of rippling waves and harsh wind fell through the phone before a small voice broke through.
Uh, hey Dream. A nervous chuckle.
I know you’re at the party, and I said I didn’t want to go- that was true by the way! I was just wondering if you could pick me up. I figured I’d go for a walk and ended up at the beach. I would’ve driven here, but I don't know how to. You never got around to teaching me.
Anyways, it's just getting a bit cold and-. And I don’t know what I’m doing here honestly. Not just at the beach, but also in America. I feel like an outsider watching into our lives, you know? I kept thinking it might be homesickness, but even the thought of going home isn’t appealing. I think I need to start somewhere new, but nowhere seems right.
Silence filled the phone for a few seconds. The sound of waves became more prominent than his voice by then. The lack of words caused Dream to clutch his phone harder, almost to the point of damaging it. Sapnap glanced at him at gently laid his hand over the phone, signalling for him to calm down. Anger towards himself bubbled in his throat, causing it to swell up and drown out any words before they were spilt.
I just realised what I said, and I know it sounds so fucking selfish, but I just-. I feel like I'm drowning, Dream. It feels like it hurts to live. I think I might regret doing this, but I can't carry on living like this. Living at all.
Between words, he let out light sputters of water as he made his way further into the sea.
I just wanted to let you know that I-
Beep
Press one to delete the message, press two to play the message again, press three to save the messa-
Beep. The message has been saved