We're Not Really Strangers. || DNF

one: dont you feel special?

I'm Dream. I'm going to be telling you a story, so sit down. I'm about to say everything you couldn't. It's a long story.. But we have time. Make yourself comfortable.

                                —————

"Dream! Dream!"

I heard giggling coming from my side. I turned to the side to see my friend Nick, fake jerking off in class.

"Nick- stop! Please—"

I was wheezing in my seat, even though it was super immature.

"Boys! What are we laughing at?"

"Nothing, Mrs. Bit- I mean, Witch."

The whole class made gasping noises, I didn't though, this was normal behavior for my friend.

"Nicholas Sapnap! That is enough! Down to the principals office, now! I'll be phoning your mother."

"And you, Mr. Clay Dream, Follow behind him. You provoked it after all."

I didn't mind, I always was in trouble with Nick, and it was most of the time his antics too.

As we were strutting down the halls, there was this brunette boy at his locker, he looked weird, but nonetheless he was staring at me.

"Oooh— Look at brunette looking at you like that- Haha, he must be a fag."

I looked at Nick, suprised.

"Nick, haha.. What the fuck? You can't just call some kid staring at me a fag, sit down. Stop putting yourself on a pedestal. He can look if he wants, I didn't have a problem with it, bro."

I wasn't even really laughing at him, it was actually kind of disgusting what he did. But I didn't care, I didn't know the brunette bitch. I only knew Nick, therefore, I forgave and forgot.

We walked out of the principals office with a warning, like always.

When we walked out, the brunette kid was there again. He called me over to him.

"Pssstt.. Clay.."

Nick gave me a concerned look.

"I'll be fine, Nick. Shut up and go to your class."

"Okay, gay kid."

Nick started busting out laughing at his own joke while he ran away so I wouldn't hit him.

He knew damn well I would beat the shit out of him.

Something was different about this kid, he was new, and I have never met him before, but the saying goes, 'ones eyes are a gateway to their soul.' and standing here, glancing into the eyes of a stranger, I sense our souls have met once before. Maybe in another life, they have.

"Hey."

The brunette kid handed me a letter. It had a heart on the front, and in cursive writing it wrote.

To, Clay Dream <3

"Uh, thanks.. What's your name.?"