The Butterfly Effect//DreamNotFound AU

Emendments... almost

Tw- F slur, homophobia

The room was almost pitch black, I could only see my own body as I looked down, seeing my feet standing on a gray floor.

"George." I looked up, the room suddenly brighter as a man stood there, looking at me with a smile. His dirty blonde hair as messy as always and the same mask, this time more transparent, the freckles now visible over his well sculpted face.

"Your such a dick." He said, his smile still on his face but mine wiped off my face completely.

"What?"

"I'd never love you George. Your gay, no one loves gay people, they are horrible." He said, his smile now flipping to a more serious look.

"Dream...?"

"Your a faggot. Go fuck yourself." He said, walking off into the dark void, leaving me alone to cry. But I couldn't. Couldn't find it in me to cry, my shock outweighing the betrayal.

I see another shadow, taller man than Dream, broader shoulders and dark black hair pressed under a beanie.

My words dissipated in the thin air, not a word coming out my mouth as I struggled to say something, anything.

Yet it was too late. The man slapped me round the face, sending me crashing to the ground with no sound but the echo the mans hand left; hot tears started to fall rapidly from my eyes as the familiar man climbed on top of me, yet I couldn't do anything but sit there as the man shifted more on my lap, closer and closer to my face.

He woke up in a pool of sweat, eyes blurry and sheets strewn on the floor.

So... the other night was certainly something, and last night for that matter.

To be honest, I never actually sat down and thought about it, had a bad hangover, still, since then even though it's Monday... shit it's Monday.

He sits up quickly, grabbing his phone from his bedside table, struggled to turn it on, but the bright light suddenly lighting up his face with the digits 05:55.

The sight makes him lay back down, wide awake and staring at the ceiling as the sunlight was only just coming through the blinds.

Going back over the events of the other night, at least of what I remember; we got there, Clay drank a bit, we went up to the library with everyone, Clay drank a bit more, we went down to the dance floor with everyone else, Clay drank even more, I made him sing, he finished his drinks (pretty much), and then...

Fuck. Shit. Fucking holy fucking shit.

He sits right up, now fully awake if he wasn't before, suddenly aware of the situation he was stuck in that would be quite hard to get out of.

Shaking his head, George gets out of his bed, throwing on a large checkered, button up shirt and skinny jeans, making his way downstairs to grab a drink, as a way of clearing his mind.

And then last night, he thinks whilst taking a sip of some cold water, Caden appeared yet again, the prick. Even the thought of the man sent chills up the brunet's spine and the small action almost sent the glass of water spilling over the side.

-

It was 7:30, a decent time to leave the house for George because it gave him time to have a nice slow walk to school without worrying about being late.

Takes about 15 minutes to get there, school starts at 8:00; it was always good to leave a bit early, taking a slow walk meant he could process his thoughts and actually think of solutions before having to actually face the problems.