Crossroads | DreamNotFound

Chapter 1. - The Masquerade

The story is put in the past, back when the internet was not a thing. George just turned 19 and Dream is 20.

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His feet landed on the cold, grassy ground as he looked around. The moon shined through the deep, infinite skies, its' moonlight illuminating the young man's face, bringing out his best features.

He felt the cold breeze flow through his clothes and hair with slight agression as he blinked twice, trying to get rid of the tears in his quite sensitive eyes. He turned slowly to the window behind, closing it, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

Leaving a small gap inbetween the wooden frames so that he could get back in later, he turned around, carefully walking down the old cobblestone path.

The pitch black surrounding him made it hard for him to see or even walk, leading him to gasp from the sudden pain every now and then. But even though his feet were all sore and scratchy, he didn't care, not even a little, — In fact, the place he was heading to was very much worth the painful walk.

Walking through the dark quiet birch forest, he caught himself shivering due to the low temperatures outside. He put his slender hands together, trying to warm up as his legs slowed down a little, getting stiff and tired. He hadn't walked that far, a mile maybe, but his body was giving up on him rather fast. Maybe it was the weather, the barefoot factor, or the past few sleepless nights — his call, of course. The man was too excited for the upcoming event, juste like a little kid. But he knew it would all be worth it in a bit.

As he made another step, his eyes shifted to the sight in front of him and a tiny smile appeared on his face as they landed on the glowing lights in the distance.

He was almost there.

And so, as the clock hit 12am, he found himself standing next to a big, wooden sign, the words 'Masquerade' painted over it.

He sighed heavily, reaching for the white goggles laying at the bottom of his pocket. He sat his "mask" on his face as he took a deep breath, walking towards the sound of loud music and people's chatters.

Stepping into the little town's square, his hand flew up to his mouth, eyes glittering with excitement. He watched people move in swift motions in the middle of the wild scenery, having the time of their lives. The cheered-on band left a pleasant melody in his ears, making him lose his breath, and the colorful lights dancing rapidly around the square made the whole experience seem breathtaking, almost a dream.

The sweet smell of fresh food met his nose as he observed the tiny shops surrounding the whole place, making the little man a little hungry. Too bad he couldn't buy even a piece of those sweet apple pies.

A smile painted over his face as he stepped into the crowd of people. He looked around, biting on his lower lip as his eyes wandered from one person to another. A series of different masks, ones fashionable and focused of the smallest details, ones quite simple and others made as a silly joke. None of them mattered though, as the people behind them, hiding all sorts of qualities the masks couldn't give off, were all equal that night. He loved how it made every single one seem rather special on its own, even just a black cloth having a meaning attached to it.
As multiple blinding ligths flickered all around him, making his eyes flutter at the sudden flash of light, his palms became sweaty as he straightened his posture, not sure of what to do or think.

One moment, he was standing there, surrounded by the pairs of people, feeling their bodies brush against his own every few seconds, and a moment after, he felt himself being pulled into the middle of the crowd.

Confused, he looked up to see a tall, dirty blond man gazing right back at him. A white, porcelain mask with a smiley face painted over it sat on the side of the man's face as his gleaming eyes hid under the guy's long eyelashes, complimenting his mysterious looks. His rosy lips were pushed into a thin line, being slightly swollen from the cold, and his sharp jawline made him look almost threatening — not to George, though.

"Uh," he blinked twice, trying to process what had just happened. Just then, he noticed the two were slowly moving with the music, and so ruining the moment they were having, he pushed his companion away.

With a little laugh, the blond reached out his hand, pushing George's goggles up to his forehead to get a glimpse of his whole face. Noticing the stranger was scanning his face, the brunette's cheeks flushed with embarassment as his hand flew up to cover his red face, a giggle escaping his mouth.

"Who are you?" A deep, raspy voice spoke up, filled with way too much confidence. Probably thought the world of himself.

The music so loud, making it hard to catch on the taller boy's words, George struggled to even breathe as he slowly lowered his hand, gazing back at the man with a funny look.

"Why do you care?" He yelled out so that the taller could hear him as the man let out a small chuckle, enough to make George's knees a little weak — he certainly didn't applause himself for that.

But right then and there, George's head was empty. He lived in the moment, not caring about the way his body reacted as soon as the man spoke up, or the way his heart skipped a beat when the blond's cold eyes met his own – he would deal with that later.

"You've never been here before," The dirty blond replied calmly as he put his hands into his pockets.

"You're right, but why do you care?" George furrowed his eyebrows. He wanted to poke fun of the guy just a little.

Or maybe, he played dumb to find out what his intentions were?

"What's your name?" The porcelain mask asked, completely ignoring George's question.

The stranger seemed to be rather arrogant, the brunette would see him as the type of guy to live by himself, the type of guy to lack empathy for others and to not feel a single thing, yet deep down he had a feeling there was way more than that to him, maybe there was a bit of emotion under the empty stare, yet it seemed to be locked up in a strong cage and really hard to even get to, let alone try and let it out.

George scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's George."

The man grinned, brushing his fingers through his thick hair.

"Cute," he let out before taking the shorter man's hand and pulling him out of the crowd.

The man's cold fingertips pressed against his hand made George shiver, ice piercing down his spine.

"What are you doing?" George asked, concerned about the man's quick act.

"Let's get out of this place," the stranger breathed out, still holding George's hand.

"And why exactly should I go with you? For all I know, you could be a murderer."

The dirty blonde let out a simple chuckle, "Come on, it will be fun, trust me," he said, letting go of George as he started walking towards the exit, "What else have we got to do?"

Millions of thoughts racing through George's head, he took his time to comprehend what the boy had just said, —  yet lacking a sense of being alive, not really caring about what were to happen, he made up his mind just as the sound of the blonde's distant footsteps almost vanished.

"Wait!" George yelled out, enough for the boy to hear, "What's your name?"

The man stopped, turning around to see George glaring back at him.

"It's Dream."