Scratches // DNF

Chapter 5

The next morning, George woke first. He entwined his body with my duvet in reluctance to leave his bed. He'd gone home before Dream finished his set the night before, swimming in exhaustion and glee.

I'd stayed with Dream. He'd finished with loud applause from those who still remained in the bar during the early morning. Granted, they were undeniably drunk, but Dream didn't seem to mind. Any support was appreciated after all.

Only after he finished did he have a chance to properly talk to the other staff. Most had left or were too tired to chat, but the manager's energy seemed to never run low.

"Bloody brilliant," he'd exclaimed whilst turning the sign on the door to 'closed.' "Truly, you did a great job."

Dream had thanked him and grabbed his things to scurry home. When he'd drifted to sleep upon his arrival, I took the opportunity to familiarise myself with New Orleans.

I started in the city centre, wandering around streets filled with mainly shops and restaurants. It was roughly three or four o'clock in the morning by the time I arrived, inarguably not the best time to try and discover a city. Most people on the pavements were drunk or homeless. I walked past countless curled in sleeping bags, wishing I had the ability to give money, food or help in any way. But my being was utterly useless, bound to simply walk on earth with no known expiration date.

On my return was when I saw George fighting sleep. When he finally rose, he made breakfast and struggled with finding crockery, still adjusting to the location of everything in the new flat.

Not too long following this, Dream joined him, wrapped in a blanket he'd grabbed from the back of the sofa.

"'Morning."

George turned, nodding in acknowledgment as he finished his mouthful of cereal.

"Hey." He rested his spoon at the side of his bowl. "Sorry I left early last night, I was exhausted. I can't fathom how you can sing for so long."

"Breaks," Dream replied, swinging onto the stool next to his friend. "And it's okay, it is a long time. I'm just happy you came."

He harshly wiped his tired eyes, consequently missing George's small smile.

"Well it was nice seeing you performing again, it made me realise how much I've missed it," George said, standing up to rinse his bowl in the sink.

Dream's hands flopped into his lap from his face, allowing for his eyes to re-adjust to the morning light. He briefly hesitated before replying, "Y'know it's a bit weird seeing you sitting alone, honestly. I guess I'm used to seeing you and Sapnap watching together. It's just a little odd playing without him there."

My throat closed at my sudden appearance in the conversation. You'd think I'd have become used to my roommate's often bringing up my name unprompted, but it still felt like I was eavesdropping each and every time.

I tried to say, I still do, I'm still here, only to be met with the silence which always followed my words. Neither could hear even a breath from my mouth. I wished for nothing more than for Dream to know my support was unwavering, even in death.

"Anyway, it seemed like you made a new friend last night," he said.

George rolled his eyes. "Don't even joke."

"Why were you talking to him for so long? Are you and the manager making some kind of pact?"

George turned off the tap and spun around, leaning back with his hands on the counter.

"I know you're kidding," he said. "But in a way, we did kind of make a pact."

Dream raised an eyebrow.