bullet holes ⊰⊹ dnf mafia au

part 19 ⊰⊹

"tubbo! hurry up! we need to be there in 10 minutes!" the brunet called out, his voice echoing through the large house. he looked at his watch with a frown. they were seriously cutting it close. he was stressed enough already, he really didn't need tubbo's tardiness to make it worse.

"sorry sorry, i'm here now!" tubbo shouted as he ran down the stairs, clutching his jacket while he hurriedly did the last few buttons on his shirt.

he'd accidentally overslept that morning, which in turn had pretty much set back the entire day. but he would make up for it through some free child labour.

"alright come on, before the movers get there."

tubbo nodded and grabbed his phone as they made their way out the door. tubbo looked over warily at the brunet beside him. he could practically feel the anxiety radiating off him. he sighed and stopped walking, grabbing the others arm to stop him as well.

"stop stressing george." he said, but his brother looked down with a sigh.

"i know tubbo, just can't help it. this is a really big deal and it's opening night and what if no one shows up? what will we do then-"

"george!" tubbo snapped to stop his brother's rambling. he grabbed the older by the shoulders and shook him.  "seriously, calm down. it's going to be fine. your food is amazing okay? just breathe before your hair turns white."

george chuckled at the comment and took a deep breathe.

he's right george. stop being so stressed you idiot. you've dealt with worse.

it was true, he had dealt with much worse than opening a restaurant. but still, that was different. that was all what his father built, what his father wanted.

but this, this was all him. it was george's dream, george's hard work, not his father's.

so the pressure for him to succeed was a lot more for him personally, because after all he'd been through he really wanted this to workout. for his sanity.

"alright alright i got the point. come on now, we've got tables to move."

the car ride was peaceful, the two brothers just silently listening to the radio, humming occasionally to whatever song that played.

george stared out the window, looking at the houses they passed as they drove through the suburbs. a smile appeared on his face as the memories of his early childhood resurfaced.

there was a time he was little kid with no worries. he remembered when he would run around his backyard with his mum chasing after him. or when his dad would tell him stories of great adventures he'd had with his friend.

he had one of the best childhoods a kid could ask for. that was until everything broke.

when he'd lost his mother.

george tried avoiding the topic of his mother's death as much as he humanely could, but being back here, where he had all his memories of her was bringing it all back. memories he had repressed for so long playing out in his mind like an old movie.

one minute everyone was laughing and having a good time, and the next, his mum lay dead on the floor with a crying infant still in her hands.

it has all happened so quickly. george could barely process it. all he saw was blood. so much blood.

that was the night he lost everything.

his mother's life.

his father's sanity.

his own innocence.

that night was the only reason he didn't hate his father. because losing the love of your life changes a person. george knew firsthand.