who's nearby

In all honesty, George was completely fed up with the concept of love and dating.

After being away for college for almost four years he had grown to realize how quickly he became fixated on others, and how huge of a pain in the ass it was. Of all the people who could've given him a mindless wave a few months ago, it had to be one of the most attractive guys on the school's football team?

George knew of Clay through mutual friends but had never even spoken to the guy. Yet he was somehow enamored with every feature about him. The way his hair practically reflected gold, his eyes a radiate yellow, and his smile like drops of sunshine themselves infused into his blood. Not to mention the guy was built and looked like he could probably punt him across the campus.

But after a few months of being floored from afar, he had come to realize that his little fantasies of the blonde running up to him after a game and proclaiming mutual attraction, or bumping into each other and falling into each other's arms like a cheesy high school rom-com, were nothing more than that- fantasies.

Clay was tall, blonde, and played football, the definition of a straight frat guy who probably had a bonkers smart girlfriend studying to be a lawyer.

In essence, he was down so bad he was probably scraping the pits of hell at this point.

All of his fantasies and dreams were just that, fantasies. Deep in his heart of hearts he knew he would never get a chance to even try and date the golden retriever of a boy. Still, he let his heart wander and drift sometimes, most often late hours into the night be it scenarios to fall asleep to or shameless activities covered under a thick layer of darkness throughout his tiny dorm bedroom.

George wanted nothing more than to never have to think about the actuality of putting himself out there, in the truly vulnerable and raw space of dating, allowing himself to escape to his daydreams of his perfect life where he was spending hours with the blonde daily making stupid memories, running up to him over the fence after watching one of his games, or well, other things too. He did mean it, Clay could probably throw him across a yard with ease.

Karl, his best friend, however, was not too keen on letting him stay fixated on someone he could never even hold conversation with.

"Dude, I'm telling you, get a dating app or some shit, you need to let off some steam after months of this bullshit," The curly haired boy mumbled through bites of his sandwich.

Karl was actually the one pushing him initially to talk to Clay, being the only connection to the blonde's friends that George. It was a short grapevine, too, as the brunette was technically in his overarching circle.

Human relationships were far too complicated for George's liking. Why couldn't he just be left in peace while imagining a hot football player railing him? Karl seemed to suggest it was unhealthy which George adamantly disagreed on.

"You and I both know I have no drive for any actual relationships right now," George responded, trying to divert the subject.

"This would all be solved if you would just talk to the guy-"

" -No! Karl, how many times do I have to tell you how straight that boy is? I would be a laughing stock to half of the football team if I even tried."

His friend rolled his eyes, as he always did at those comments, setting his food down and quickly grabbing the shorter's phone, opening it.

"Hey! What the hell are you-"

"-I'm helping, you should be grateful," Karl interrupted quickly, swiping through George's phone. The brunette's heart raced at the idea of his friend ruining any chance he could have with the blonde (he knew Karl wasn't below texting people from someone else's phone).