vision | dreamnotfound

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗩;𝗚𝗼𝗹𝗳 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆 - 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗜𝗜

   "Could you describe him for me?" The bass player had turned his head away from Dream, up to the same jovial woman that had taken their order a few minutes before their dreadful conversation.

   "Here's your tea, sir," she spoke and handed Dream his drink. "Careful. It's flaming hot." The ever-so-familiar smile reappeared on her face whilst quietly humming along to the radio inside the café. She set the other two drinks on the rounded coasters; Ace branded across the flat, wooden objects. "Yell for me if there's anything else you need." Before turning, she winked at them and left her ebony-waved ponytail swinging around her shoulders whilst walking back inside the Ace Restaurant.

   "Could you," Dream had repeated himself. Karl's eyes widened at nothing specifically, his eyebrows finding comfort being higher up on his face. It was his way to remember specifics about the apparent boy in their house. Dream knew this because he had seen the expression more times than he wished to count.

   Karl had pursed his lips together and looked down at his dotted tattoo. "I could be wrong, but he looks to be around twelve, maybe thirteen years old." The dark blonde sighed, his tensed shoulders stooping low to finally relax again as his foolish hope vanished. "Dark eyes, dark hair as well. Blue pajamas with green and red cars on them. Or were they sharks?" His voice had internalized during half of the question.

   "Perhaps you know him," the curly-haired boy asked when he was finally done questioning whether the pajamas had sharks or cars on them. At the end of the argumentation with himself and only himself, he'd decided they were cars all along.

   Dream sighed. "I don't know anyone around that age, and I don't think that I should." He couldn't help but feel betrayed by his own, selfish thought. Of course, it couldn't have been George. Why would he want to stay while all of Earth was able to give him, was enduring pain and sufferance of the heart? But to George, that wasn't the greatest desiderium of all. The amount of love he gave the world was never enough to be returned to the rightful owner. Not all, at least. And not by the one person he wanted the most affection and intimacy from.

   "Have you forgotten what I've told you," Karl asked, tilting his head towards Dream, annoying him just a bit. "The age of a spirit alternates to the most blissful year they have gone through during their alive years. You can't depend your belief on their age. It's unreliable." Dream managed to scoff just under his breath. Why would the curly-haired boy in front of him even mention age if it wasn't reliable, to begin with? He wanted to say something along those lines out loud, but something in him had fought off the urge. It wouldn't fix anything, just get the two of them annoyed with each other and he didn't feel like doing exactly that on the day he was supposed to thank them for allowing him to live with them.

   "You know, I have something at home I want to show you," he spoke and paused as Dream blew on the bubbling tea. "but we have to wait until Sap leaves to go to work, which is at six. So, if we leave now, we should be right on time." Karl had already scooted back his chair in a hurry and leaned most of his body forward to get out of the sunken seat, but Dream had managed to stop him, pushing him back in his chair, quite harshly so, unintended. "I don't want to look at your gadgets right now," he said, and let loose of Karl's sweater.

   Karl had sat up straight again, rehabilitating the pristine posture he was taught by his mother during the early teaching of his childhood table manners. "You said a name when he touched you by the shoulder. Jordan? Josh? George?" Dream's breath hitched at the name. He didn't care enough to hide it anymore. "What about him?" Karl nodded at his reaction, proud of himself he guessed the name correctly after three quick guesses.

   "Who is he, might I ask?"

   Dream decided to give in to his friend's curiosity in his life. He had been very reticent of his life so far, and none of the two friends he had, minded his guarded behavior surrounding the particular situation Karl had asked about.

   "George was my best friend. I moved in with him a couple of months after I moved out of your house and remained to live with him for a little over two years." Dream took a daring breath, ready to tell Karl whatever first came up in his mind about the deceased boy. "Then, he went to London for two weeks, it was his hometown. He was supposed to return, but he never came back. Karl, I sent him there, it was my idea."

   Karl furrowed his eyebrows at the hurtful comment regarded towards Dream himself. "Are you seriously blaming yourself for his passing? It's not your fault, Clay." Karl grabbed ahold of the blonde's torso, hugging it oh so tightly. Dream tried to wriggle free, but the highly affectionate person around him had felt more welcoming than he thought it could ever feel to him. He didn't not like it, but he wasn't going to hug the boy back. It wasn't the way he liked to show affection, or, at least, not just to anyone.

   "I know that now. But for a long time, I did blame myself." The arms had tightened even more around the blonde's torso, and the curly hairs from the other boy started to tickle his neck; a feeling he was familiar with, but no longer wanted to feel anymore. Karl had sighed in the small crook of Dream's neck and slid his arms back around his torso, hugging himself. He wanted to believe the mourning man and his obvious spoken lie, but it was beyond belief and more so a wish to end their tête-à-tête.

   The ravenette had walked out of the restaurant at the right time and joined the two boys at the table with a grin on his face. "That waiter, Lily. She's cute." He sat down and gripped the cold glass of beer and took a big gulp. He forced the unfamiliar liquid to go down his throat and gasped, forcing the glass back onto the coaster. "What the Hell is this," He whined, a sour face looking back and forth at the innocent boys.

   "Children aren't allowed adult drinks, Sap." Karl snorted and bent forward to slap both his knees like a dad with three grown-ups in his fifties would do. The blonde wanted to join in on the laughter, but all that managed to show up was a weak smile and a half-aware-of-anything Dream. He thought of Karl's offer. The curly-haired boy clearly had something waiting for the lyricist, but he couldn't think of whatever that something was and because of Karl's eagerness, he felt determined to figure it out. But not whilst Sapnap was there.

   "Ha-ha, you're so funny Karl." Sapnap sounded displeased yet again and went to stand up. One second, it looked like he was ready to go back to the course, then the next, he crouched down just behind his chair. "Not funny, guys," he said, clearly annoyed. "What did y'all do to my MacGregors?" Karl gave Dream a questioned look, Dream returning the same expression to the two boys.

   "We didn't do anything to your golf clubs, Sap. You must have left it somewhere on the course," Dream said and started looking with him.

   "You better be right. It took me three months of hard work to get them." Panic rose in his voice, waking up the forgotten Western accent in the Texan boy.

   The golf club mystery had been solved shortly after Sapnap remembered he stalled them under a roof at the last course they ran because it had been too heavy to pick up and run across a field of Bermuda grass. The ravenette thought it was a smart idea, but it was the quickest, and dumbest idea to leave such expensive tools in the open like that, even when the rain would decide to pour. Luckily, he learned from it and moved on before the boys could make fun of him.

   "I won, bitches! My job here is done. Let's head home. I have to work at six." Sapnap had said, right after paying for the three and scoring Lily's number written on a napkin, red lipstick imprinted underneath the ten digits. The weird part about it was, she hadn't even worn any lipstick at all before giving the napkin to Sapnap. Have fun, Sap, Dream thought and started the car, driving the short distance back home.