Missed Chances || Dreamnotfound

1

Once upon a time— now, hold on a second—

This isn't some fairytale filled with magic and butterflies and icky-gooey romance.

No, this story starts with great annoyance on George's behalf. It's about mutual loathing and resentment, lies and betrayal, anguish and heartbreak. It's one for the ages, though it won't be found in any history book.

George has dreamed of love before. Never would he have thought it would be like this. Love was always seen as foreign to him, untouchable. He never knew it would fall apart no matter how badly he wanted it.

So, this story starts rather quickly, a jump into a life that has never experienced the untouchable.

~

"George, are you listening?"

Shaking his head out of a daze, George looks away from the carriage window to meet his mother's expectant look. Smiling, she says, "I was asking if you're excited."

George fails to hide his wince, glancing at his father, who sleeps in the carriage seat across from them. "Why are we visiting Takenshire again?" George asks with a frown. The air is tight around him, stuffy in this carriage.

"Because we haven't seen the Taken's in years!" his mother, Queen Helen, says simply. Her rouge lips curl down elegantly when she notes George's distaste. "I know you have a certain... dislike of their son, but our families have been friends for centuries."

"Dream has tried to kill me," George points out, scowling, "several times."

His mother tuts, smoothing down George's hair under his crown. The carriage rocks and the steady clip-clop of hooves can be heard from outside. "And you haven't done the same?"

When George's nose scrunches and he looks outside, she continues, "You have to put your past behind you. George, you're twenty-three already! Marriage should be on your mind." She pauses, nudging George in his side. "You may not like Dream, but he has a sister!"

George does the math in his head, frowning. "She's sixteen."

"A fine young lady."

"I'm not marrying a sixteen-year-old, mother," George mutters, staring out the window. He rests his chin on his palm, studying the scenery. It's familiar, unfortunately so.

George hasn't seen Dream or his family in seven years. He's been glad for the space away. He has no liking towards Dream even though they grew up together.

Since before they could walk, George and Dream were practically raised together. Their friendship was strong during their toddler and adolescent years. Then, they were sent to the same boarding school and things changed.

Their friendship turned into a competition, a rivalry to see who could get the best grades, be the most athletic, get the most girls, run the fastest, et cetera. You get the point. Their rivalry that started as friendly turned almost malicious, equal jealousy and fury driving them to compete in everything imaginable.

George looked forward to the summers when he could go home. But even at home he continued to study and train just to one up Dream the next year at school. When they turned thirteen things got messy.

Dream poisoned one of George's meals, and George almost died. Seeing the pride on Dream's face after that led George to shoot an arrow through his shoulder. Then Dream stabbed him through the wrist, to which George responded with a stab in Dream's stomach. Things only spiraled.

Three years later, when they were sixteen, each of their family's withdrew them from boarding school to start their training as princes. George hasn't seen Dream since, and he can't say he's looking forward to seeing him again.