Seeing Stars - DreamNotFound

Chapter 15

George had been home for a week, in that length of time, he had survived and that was just about it. Recovering from such an extraordinary high that immediately met a severe heartbreak wasn't an easy task, in actuality, it was profoundly draining. Clay saturated his brain constantly, there wasn't a moment of the day in which George didn't reminisce about his time in Florida and how all of that fulfillment and bliss had been pried from his clutches so swiftly. Things were over, Clay had vanished from his sight, it was time to grieve that loss.

He thought of it as some sort of reverie, the days in Florida, a constructed, idealistic reality he had created inside his mind, it wasn't authentic or even plausible. This was a form of denial, he recognized that wholeheartedly, but it helped George cope. That was all he could do right now, cope with and mourn the death of everything that mattered in his life.

That sounds melodramatic, partially because it is, but it's also true, at least that's what George thought. The brunette had developed a mindset during his stay in Florida where Clay reigned supreme, predominated his thoughts and affections, possessed his heart and every other part of his being. An extremely fatal way to think, only ever culminating in tragedy. George had dug himself into a deep pit because that mentality hadn't really disappeared.

He wanted so badly to hate Clay, to never imagine speaking to him again and stain the memories of those perfect days with all of the pain and sadness that emerged from them. But his text. I'm sorry. I love you. That complicated things. 

Rose-colored lenses fogged up his thoughts, still, even though Clay had metaphorically ripped out his heart and smashed it, forcibly exiling his soul from his body and isolating it from all humanity, causing the brit indescribable amounts of emotional misery. Despite all that jazz, he was in love. He fucking hated it, but you can't get rid of that type of infatuating, overwhelming, amorous love overnight. Or within 7 days. 

The most arduous and taxing part of his convalescent period was having to come to terms with the fact that he knew he could never fully revert to the way things were before-he'd always see Clay as Clay. He wished with all of his heart that he only knew Dream, but Clay would forever remain deep within George's brain. He'd never be Dream again, it'd hurt too much to call him that.

George had to reteach himself Clay's name in the midst of his love-clouded phase, so maybe it'd be healthier to at least attempt to start saying "Dream" in his thoughts, as a way of dealing with the whole loveless thing, but George didn't want that. Very unhealthy, yes, but he needed to, for the conservation of his sanity, remember every detail of his stay, recounting the specifics over and over. This allowed him to have just an ounce of hope left for them, not a great way to cope, horribly ineffective in fact, but did he care? Absolutely not. He only wanted Clay, the man who created both the highest highs and lowest lows of George's existence thus far. Precisely, he wanted the highs back. But if that meant suffering for a while, he'd suffer. 

He knew this would be detrimental to his mental health in the long run, it was impossible to mourn a loss while you were still trying to convince yourself the person was alive and well. He needed to send those memories with Clay six feet under and bury them from ever seeing the light of day. 

But he couldn't. 

Clay had called George twice, the day after his flight. The brit couldn't answer, at the time he was in hysterics, but he didn't know what he would have said anyway. 

George had attempted to respond to Clay's cryptic text a million times by now. Upon first seeing it in the airport, the brunette basically unraveled at the seams, so broken from all of Clay's torturous games. What did it even mean? An hour or so after kicking him out, Clay just says he's sorry? That he loves George? It was infuriating. If he was sorry he wouldn't have made him leave, if he loved him he'd have come to the stupid fucking airport and stopped George from getting on the plane. 

It wasn't fair. That life could skyrocket, leaving George the happiest he'd ever been, then just completely plummet in an instant. He had asked the universe, "why?" too much at this point. 

Thankfully, though, George was slowly acclimating, entering the numb, lethargic stage of heartbreak. 

He needed to stream, soon, or else he was afraid he'd succumb to his inner demons and drown in his sorrows for another neverending week. Today. 

He sluggishly set up the stream, having absolutely no motivation other than feeling obligated to inform the viewers that he was back home. Actually, not "home," just back in the UK. His home was somewhere else...

From many hours of scouring Clay's social media platforms, George knew the other hadn't said anything to the viewers. He would break the news to them.

With the click of a button, he was live. The chat flowed in, instantly asking where George had been and, sadly, noticing that he was back to his usual setup. 

"Hello, hello!" For the first time in what felt like an eternity, George put on a smile, it was a facade, but it was the only thing keeping him from breaking down again. 

The brit kept it short, explaining to the fans that he ended up needing to leave Florida unexpectedly. He didn't think of a particular reason beforehand, so his poor excuse of a summary was far too vague and ultimately confused the viewers. He couldn't even speak Dream's name. The chat theorized a multitude of things: a fight, an emergency, and, of course, the DNF shippers mentioned a breakup. 

George just sat and read the influx of messages, disappointed and supportive, for a few moments, he was noticeably upset. He said goodbye and abruptly ended the stream, collapsing onto his bed and preparing for a couple of hours of uncontrollable weeping. 

His phone chimed up loudly, emitting a piercing ring. Maybe it was Nick, he had called George a few times to check-in. During their conversations, due to a very persistent and concerned Nick, George had eventually given up all secrecy and informed the other of everything-the dating, the breakup. Nick was initially surprised, and then very pissed at Clay, understandably. It was comforting for George to have someone to turn to. 

George shakily picked up his phone, "Hello?"

"H-hey, George."

Oh, fuck. Clay.