theft || DNF

2

The previous heist had felt like a half-finished masterpiece; George and Sapnap had escaped with nothing but the key, their identities still hidden from the authorities. Sapnap's grin had never been wider than when George dangled the key in front of him, its metal glinting like a promise of the fortune they would soon take. A week of careful planning had led them back here, and tonight, they intended to finish what they'd started.

Standing in the shadow of the building, George's leather boots sank slightly into the damp earth, grounding him as Sapnap tried to rally his nerves. The night was silent, save for the occasional whistle of a cold wind that swept through the empty parking lot, adding a cinematic drama to the moment. George kept running the plan through his mind, his fingers twitching in anticipation.

"We'll head down to the underground floor, get the cash from the vault, and then make our escape through the back exit. If the police show up, we ditch the car and make a run for it," Sapnap repeated, his voice steady but carrying a hint of adrenaline. He'd gone over this plan with George so many times that it almost felt like muscle memory.

George nodded, his eyes scanning the darkened building. Not a single light flickered from within, just the cold, unwelcoming emptiness of a place that, only hours ago, had been bustling with business. Despite the tension, he told himself this was just another job, another theft in the long line of dangerous heists they'd pulled off together. But tonight, something felt different—a nervous energy gnawed at him, spurred on by the lingering memory of Dream's bloodied face and the kiss they'd shared.

It was supposed to be simple. They knew the layout like the back of their hands, thanks to Sapnap's reconnaissance. But as they climbed the fire escape and re-entered the building through the old, malfunctioning emergency door, George's mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. He clutched the vault key tightly in his pocket, feeling its cold edges press into his palm like a promise and a curse.

The building was a labyrinth of sterile white corridors and empty offices. The flickering light from the occasional faulty ceiling lamp barely illuminated their path, leaving them to navigate mostly by memory. Every corner looked the same, and the air was thick with the kind of silence that made every footstep sound deafening. The underground stairs loomed ahead, leading them down into the belly of the building, where the vault—and their fortune—awaited.

George's heart raced as they descended the stairs. A sudden thud echoed sharply, followed by a muffled curse. Sapnap had run face-first into a locked door that was fitted with a sleek, digital keypad. George could see the frustration wash over his friend's face as he kicked the door in anger.

"It's a keycard access," Sapnap grumbled, slumping against the wall. "We only have the vault key."

George's mind flashed back to the conversation with Dream last week, remembering his exact words: "The keycard goes to the underground floor where we keep the files; the key to the vault is in my pocket."

The realization struck him like a lightning bolt. He knew exactly where Dream kept the keycard. "I know where it is," George said, his voice filled with a newfound urgency. "Stay here—I'll be right back."

George sprinted back up the stairs, the sound of his boots echoing like gunshots in the empty corridors. He knew the layout of the CEO's office all too well, navigating the maze-like hallways with a sense of purpose that cut through the haze of anxiety clouding his mind. When he reached Dream's office, the faint glow of a desk lamp illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls. He didn't think twice about it. It was just Dream being careless, or so he hoped.

He ripped open the drawers, frantically rummaging through the clutter of papers and office supplies until his fingers brushed against the cold plastic of the keycard. But just as he pulled it free, a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, yanking him backward. George's heart leapt into his throat, and he spun around, his eyes locking onto the familiar figure towering over him.