Setting Sun

1 | Memories in the Dark | 1

George sighed, closing his computer and leaning back in his chair to massage his tired eyes. He stood up from his desk, gathering his items before venturing towards the elevator of his now-deserted office. This was the third time this week that he'd had to stay late to finish his work. He'd be in the middle of working, then, all of a sudden, the time would skip forward a half hour and he'd realize he'd been daydreaming again.

His boss had caught him once, as he was staring blankly at the beige walls that surrounded his cubicle. He very subtly had tapped on George's shoulder, kindly asking for him to follow into the main office. There he continued to scold George, reminding him of all the reasons he had to let him go, but how he'd kept him on because he "Felt sorry for him and his pitiful life." "This is your last warning," he had said.

"Okay, Mr. Schlatt," was all George had said. The threat hadn't scared him in the least, this was probably the fourth or fifth time the boss had said this. However, this didn't mean he wouldn't ever fire George. Johnathan Schlatt was notorious for never giving second chances.

That's why George had taken to staying later, trying desperately to get his work from the day completed, while also sometimes doing some work for the next day so he didn't have to fret as much.

He trudged his way back to his apartment. Unfortunately, his car was in the shop due to some damage that had seemed to come to the old Nissan, so he sat anxiously at the bus stop, bouncing his leg up and down in anticipation. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt as if someone was watching him, which was ridiculous. George didn't have many friends, all of which he'd left in England before moving to America. Although, none of them had really been his friend.

There was only one.

They had the prettiest smile, with perfectly white teeth under semi-plump lips. They were far taller than George, which always embarrassed him when they went out in public together. Their hair was fluffy and only a little longer than George's, though George never looked at it much. He often kept his eyes trained on those of his friend. They were deep, always seeming to find a way to mesmerize him.

He remembered late nights, sitting on the phone with them, laughing at whatever stupid, vulgar joke they made. Or staying over at their house, laying in their bed, staring into each other's eyes and talking about anything that came to mind, most often the latest drama with their parents. Neither of them had a great upbringing, his friend's father was quite abusive which was why they usually had bruises littering their pretty face. George's father was out of the picture, which the boy's mother blamed him for. She was verbally abusive to him, usually attacking him with insults regarding how weak he was or how she saw his sexuality. While she wasn't a good mother, she was observant enough to notice how George was with his best friend. She didn't think it was normal and she surely didn't support it.

He still remembered the night he'd come home from his best friend's house to see his mother standing at the foot of the stairway.

"Where've you been, Georgie?" she whispered softly. George cringed at the nickname that he hated. Despite her soft tone, he knew she wasn't genuinely curious, she hadn't been concerned when he didn't return at his usual time. She just hoped he wasn't with them.

"Nowhere, mom," he responded anxiously, hoping that was the right answer.

"Don't LIE to me, boy!" she yelled, suddenly angry. That was when George noticed the bottle in her hand. His mother didn't usually drink, when she did it was because she couldn't stand real life anymore. These nights were ones that George tried not to stick around for. But he couldn't leave now, she would chase him out of their flat, causing a scene that he didn't want the neighbors to see.

So instead he stood, eyes glued to the floor.

"You were with them again weren't you?" she asked, spitting their pronoun, refusing to say the name aloud. George nodded once, eyes trained on the same spot, a plethora of something dark, probably soda someone had spilled on their way upstairs. "I knew it," she muttered, mostly to herself. "I knew this would happen, they are no good for you, boy."

George didn't move, not even to nod. He was afraid the words would once more leave his mother's mouth, the words that had hurt him so badly, more than anything else his mother had ever used to try to get him to stay away from them. He held his breath, wanting nothing more than to be in his room under the covers, talking to them on the phone before falling into a comfortable sleep.

"I just wish you were more like your father," his mother uttered disappointedly.

There it was. Those words, the ones George hated to hear. He hated his father, he hated him for leaving him with his mother. She had never been especially kind to either of them, but that escalated to another level once his father left. Though she said she only lashed out because she was in pain, George knew it was because she blamed him. And, without his father there to take some of the hits, all the heat fell on George when his mother was upset. He didn't blame his father for leaving, he blamed him for leaving George behind.

"Hey, you coming or not?" a voice said, annoyed.

"Hm?" George said, snapping out of his thoughts. He sat on the bus stop bench, the bus driver staring at him from the driver's seat. He wasn't with his mom, he was in Denver, finally safe from her.

"Are you getting on or can I go?" he reiterated, hand hovering over the button that would shut the bus doors.

George stood quickly, grabbing the bag carrying his laptop and papers for work. He shuffled onto the bus, collapsing into a seat. It had started to rain outside, and George laid his head against the cold window as the bus pulled away, his office building shrinking away in the distance.

He fought his sleepy eyes as they threatened to close, pulling him into his much wanted world of sleep. He knew if he slept, he wouldn't wake back up for a while, meaning he'd most likely miss his stop. To keep them open, he focused on two boys sitting a few rows ahead of him, one with black hair and the other a dull brown. They sat with their heads close together. They were laughing at something on one of their phones, and they were happy. George longed for that happiness that'd been so foreign to him since he lost them. He used the boys' happiness for now, it made him forget all about his unwanted memories in the dark. It was the one thing that made him enjoy staying awake before he got off the bus and went into his apartment.

(Word Count: 1,205)

A/N: Hi! This is my first story ever uploaded on here, but it's not the first ever story I've written. Anyways, I love DNF and I really wanted a story that was my own of them, that's why I wrote this. I hope you like it, and updates will be daily.