Beneath The Surface - DNF

Chapter 11

The morning sun was starting to emerge intensely when Dream and George pulled up outside the warehouse. The air was cool, crisp, and deceptively calm, but George felt an unsettling tension. The drive had been quiet, both men lost in their own thoughts, though the unspoken weight of the previous night lingered between them. This mission wasn't supposed to be complicated—just a standard delivery—but George's instincts told him otherwise.

"You good?" Dream's voice cut through the silence, his tone casual, but George could sense the underlying concern.

George nodded, though the tightness in his chest remained. "Yeah, fine," he muttered. "Just don't like this place."

Dream gave him a sideways glance, his green eyes sharp. "You've been here before?"

George hesitated. "A long time ago."

That was all Dream needed to hear. He didn't press for more, but George could feel the unspoken question lingering between them. As they approached the large metal doors of the warehouse, George's heart raced in a way that had nothing to do with the mission at hand. There were too many memories tied to this place—memories he had buried, or at least tried to.

The doors creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped into view, sending a shock of recognition through George. Marcus Vayne. His former business partner, the man who had once stood by his side, now standing before him with a sharp, knowing smile.

"George," Marcus greeted, his voice smooth, almost too friendly for the situation. "It's been a while."

George's breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to stay composed. "Marcus. Didn't expect to see you here."

Marcus's gaze shifted briefly to Dream before settling back on George. "You didn't think I'd just disappear, did you?"

Dream's posture stiffened beside him, and George could feel the tension radiating from him. Dream was the kind of man who kept his cool in dangerous situations, but Marcus had a way of stirring things up without needing to lift a finger.

"I see you've found yourself a new partner," Marcus continued, his voice dripping with faux curiosity. "Dream, isn't it?"

Dream's green eyes locked onto Marcus's, and for a moment, the warehouse seemed to shrink around them. "That's right," Dream replied evenly, though there was an unmistakable edge to his voice. "I don't believe we've met."

"Oh, we haven't," Marcus said with a smirk. "But I know all about you. Quite the reputation you've built for yourself."

Dream remained silent, his gaze never wavering from Marcus's.

Marcus turned back to George, his expression shifting from amused to something colder. "I have to say, I'm surprised, George. Of all the people you could align yourself with, you chose him?" He gestured to Dream with a flick of his hand, as if dismissing him. "You always had more... taste."

George's jaw clenched, the familiar frustration bubbling up inside him. "I didn't align myself with anyone. Dream and I are partners."

Marcus let out a low chuckle. "Partners? Is that what we're calling it these days?" His eyes flickered between them, reading into every unspoken word, every glance exchanged. "Come on, George. You're smarter than this. Dream's not using you for your brains."

George felt Dream shift beside him, his hands balling into fists, but he quickly placed a hand on Dream's arm, silently urging him to stay calm. This was Marcus's game—push buttons, provoke reactions—and George wasn't going to let him win.

Marcus continued, his voice smooth and cutting. "It's obvious, isn't it? He's using you for your body. For your image. I mean, look at him—he's already got the reputation, the muscle. But you? You're the face. You're what makes him look legitimate. A pretty boy with connections."

Dream's eyes darkened, and George knew he was close to snapping. But this wasn't the time for violence. Not yet.

"Enough," George said sharply, stepping forward. "You don't know anything about what's going on between us."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by George's sudden defense. "Oh, don't I? I know you, George. I know what you used to be capable of. And I also know why you left."

George's breath hitched. This was exactly the confrontation he hadn't wanted, the past he had tried so hard to bury. But Marcus wasn't going to let it go. He never did.

"Tell me," Marcus continued, stepping closer. "Why did you abandon our partnership? We were doing well—better than well. And then you just... walked away."

George's chest tightened, his mind racing with memories he'd rather forget. He glanced at Dream, who was watching him intently, waiting for an explanation he wasn't sure he was ready to give.

"I didn't abandon anything," George said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I made a choice. I couldn't keep working with you, Marcus. You were crossing lines I wasn't willing to cross."

Marcus smirked. "Ah, the moral high ground. How noble."

"This isn't about morals," George snapped, his frustration boiling over. "It's about survival. You were dragging us down a path that would have gotten us both killed."

Marcus's expression darkened, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned his attention back to Dream, his eyes narrowing. "And now you've traded one death sentence for another. Dream's no different, George. He'll drag you down just like I would have."

Dream finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "If you think you can get between us, you're wrong."

"Oh, I don't need to get between you," Marcus said smoothly. "You'll do that yourselves. Sooner or later, Dream's world is going to catch up with you, George. And when it does, don't expect me to clean up the mess."

George felt the sting of Marcus's words, but he refused to let them sink in. "We're not the same, Marcus. Dream's not using me. We're building something together."

Marcus's smirk returned, but it was colder now, more calculating. "We'll see how long that lasts."

He turned to leave, but before he did, he threw one last warning over his shoulder. "Just remember, George—if you keep playing in Dream's world, it won't be long before someone gets hurt. And it won't be me."

The sound of Marcus's footsteps echoed in the empty warehouse as he walked away, leaving George and Dream standing in the tense silence.

George exhaled sharply, his body rigid with frustration. Dream stepped closer, his presence steadying, though the anger was still simmering beneath the surface.

"You okay?" Dream asked, his voice softer now.

George nodded, but he could feel the weight of everything—his past, Marcus's threats, the uncertainty of what was to come—pressing down on him. "Yeah," he muttered, though he wasn't sure if he believed it.

Dream's hand brushed against his shoulder, a small, grounding gesture. "We'll deal with him if it comes to that."

George glanced up at Dream, his eyes meeting those intense green ones. "I know. I just... didn't expect to see him again."

Dream nodded, understanding in his gaze. "Let's get this done. We've got other things to worry about."

George took a deep breath and nodded. "Right. Let's finish the job."

Together, they walked out of the warehouse, leaving Marcus's shadow looming behind them, but George couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger—and much more dangerous.