7 Reasons to Stay DreamNotFound

Prologue

George POV

There was something truly ominous in the way storm clouds gathered, shades of gray tumbling together until the whole sky was covered in soft black. What once was a pristine, white cloud now rumbled dangerously in its own darkness.

George stared emotionlessly down at the crashing waves. White foam frothed when the waves slammed together, droplets scattering to disappear into the vast ocean depths. He thought of what it would feel like to be pulled under the strong currents, swallowed into the churning water, never to rise again.

Salt stung his nose, and he was vaguely aware of the cars passing behind him. Orange streetlights flickered overhead, roving across the sidewalk as the cars' shadows flit by. No one would stop, why should they? They had their own lives; they couldn't be bothered to care for another's. Or perhaps they were simply oblivious to the numb agony radiating from the brunette.

He'd done his best, but in the end, it was never enough. Pain gnawed his heart, but the gaping hole was too wide for him to feel it anymore.

Cold metal nipped George's palms as he gripped the railing of the bridge. Thunder cracked, and he put one shaky foot on top of the railing. This is the only thing left for me now... not like anyone will even notice I'm gone.

He pulled himself up, ready to plummet into the raging waters far below. The wind ruffled his brown hair softly, and he wobbled unsteadily on the railing. His mind nagged with thoughts, stinging his brain like a horde of hornets. George took a deep breath. He didn't hear the footsteps pounding behind him, his eyes locked downward. Here goes....

The moment George stepped off; a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. The world turned upside down, and the brunette gasped in shock. The streetlight flashed across his vision, stark contrast from the black, frothy ocean. He tumbled backwards onto the sidewalk, landing against a warm body.

The body grunted, tightening their hold to prevent George from hitting his head. If only George could tell them not to waste their efforts on him. He didn't deserve it, and he'd welcome the pain.

The two fell still, and George could feel the heaving breaths of the person beneath him. The person sat up, and George pulled out of their grip, intending to make a mad dash for the railing, but the person grasped his wrist firmly. He glanced down at the orange light reflected off black nail polish, glinting with a shiny clear coat.

His eyes trailed up the person's arm, covered with a green sleeve. He thought he heard a voice asking if he was okay, but his ears were ringing with the pounding of his own heart. The green fabric turned out to be a hoodie, a lightly tanned neck leading up to pierced ears with black earrings. Finally, George brought his gaze to the man's face.

Emerald eyes stared at George unwaveringly, freckles splashed across his cheeks in a beautiful constellation. His dirty blond hair was ruffled from the ocean wind, his handsome face pale with shock.

George recognized him in an instant. Clay, nicknamed Dream, had been his best friend in high school, but they'd grown apart once they entered college. He really hoped Dream didn't recognize him, but it appeared the world was truly against him.

"Georgie." Dream stared at him like he was looking at a ghost. "You..."

He hesitated, eyes trailing from George to the railing, and back again. The dirty blond's eyes flashed in understanding, softening slightly. "What happened?"

George stared silently back at Dream. He tried to tug his wrist free, but the dirty blond's grip wouldn't loosen.

"Let go of me." George's voice was strained.

"I can't do that." Dream murmured. "If I do, you'll jump again."

"If you know I'm going to do it anyways, just let me get it over with." George snapped, but there was no fight in his voice. Only quiet defeat.

"No." Dream shook his head, the moonlight glinting off his black earring. "Georgie, please, talk to me."

"There's no point." George unsuccessfully tried to yank his arm free. "You can't change anything."

"How do you know if you won't let me try?" Dream forced George to meet his gaze. "I know you're in pain, and that's okay. It's okay to not be okay, but at least let me try."

George felt anger bite through the numbness, and he glared at Dream wordlessly.

"I won't leave you here." Dream told him. "I'll handcuff us together if I have to."

That's right... Dream was in the police academy. George deflated, already imagining mental facilities, locked in a room like some lunatic. Denied of the one thing he wanted, the "good in life" shoved down his throat as if it were some cure.

"What do you want?" George whispered. "Why does it matter to you if I don't want to be here anymore?"

"Seven days."

"What?" George stared in confusion at the dirty blond, noticing the resolve in those striking eyes.

"Seven days to make you want to live." Dream smiled softly at George. "If I win, you have to give me seven reasons you want to stay alive."

George blinked blankly at him. "And if you lose?"

"Then I'll jump with you. We'll both end it together."