CONTEXT: Dream has gf called kacey!
SAPNAPS PERSPECTIVE:
Kacey and Dream are arguing, but it's really bad. Dream's been kind of a shitty boyfriend, but it's understandable. His bestfriend from highschool, who he's still close with, died two nights ago. Dream was there when he died, and watched the life leave his body.
He overdosed on a lot of different drugs at a party he was hosting himself. The part was dying down when suddenly, Dream's friend, Jake, passed out. He hit his head on the floor, and Dream was crying, sobbing, begging him to stay awake. Someone called 911, whilst Jake was telling Dream it would be okay, and that he loves Dream so much. Told him he was eternally thankful for everything Dream gave him. Dream was repeatedly begging him to stay with him. Dream held Jake close to him, hugging him, and cops and EMTs arrived as Jake's hand fell limp out of Dream's. Dream interlocked their fingers, refused to let the EMTs take Jake from him. They said that apparently Dream was such a mess that his words were inaudible, and his hands were shaking, and he was sobbing and crying whilst they took him in the back of the ambulance to a coroners office.
Dream's abandoned everyone, and Kacey is yelling at him for it.
"Kacey, stop," George says, stepping in. "Cant you spare him any sympathy?!"
"I've done nothing but been there for him. And in response I get nothing. I've been copping this for weeks now, before Jake died, and..." she trails off, sighs. And George and I both know she's about to break up with him. After 3 years. And Dream can't take this right now. I start shaking my head, hand over my mouth.
"I'm sorry, Clay. I know what you're going through. But I cant be- dragged down with you. I'm sorry, but I'm leaving you."
Dream doesn't say anything. He sits down on the couch, and Kacey leaves. Just like that. Dream puts his head in his hands, quietly breathes.
"Dream,-" I start, walking over.
"It's fine," he whispers. He gets up, wipes a hand over his mouth. "Im fine."
"Let us help you," George says. "There's a lot on your shoulders right now."
DREAMS PERSPECTIVE:
Everything is going wrong.
GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:
It's about a week After Everyhting Happened. Dream's coping mechanism?
Alcohol.
He doesn't get violent, but it's obviously not healthy.
In the kitchen, late at night, Dream is sitting at the kitchen counter. He's breaking down talking to me and Nick.
"And I just feel like- I just think everything's going wrong. And I cant control it."
Nick and I don't know what to say. Dream wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, and gets a notification from Instagram on his phone.
He clicks on it, and it takes a second to load. Nick and I nervously watch.
And when it loads, it's someone's story. A girl and a boy.
Kacey and her new boyfriend.
Immediately, Dream breaks down. It physically hurts to watch him cry like this. Such raw emotion and pure tears, and I just feel for him. Everything is against him right now. Looking at him makes my head hurt and makes my heart ache.
"I.. am so sorry." I whisper to him, hugging him a little. He leans into me a little, shoves his phone away and breaks a little, the screen cracking. Just to add onto his shit week.
"Dream, I'm gonna call your mom, okay, and she's gonna come get you. And you can stay with her for a little." Nick says. Dreams words are inaudible as he mutters something, and Nick leaves to call his mom. I'm trying not to cry whilst I comfort him, and his breathes hiccup and his heart races. I cannot imagine the pain hes's going through right now. His best friend died, his girlfriend left him after 3 years, and she's already with someone else, on top of that, he's developed an alcohol addiction. He is not okay.
DREAMS MOMS PERSPECTIVE:
Clay just stopped crying. He's sobbing, a little, missing a breath every now and then. Hes looking out the window.
But Clay's not just upset about Kacey and Jake. He's upset at the world. And depressed. And heartbroken. And angry. And unlucky. And the worst part about depression is you know you're depressed, but you cant stop yourself from only falling deeper. And you cannot never prepare yourself to lose people. Not your girlfirend, or your best friend since kindergarten. Clay worries me. He worries himself. Everybody worries him.
The next morning, I let Clay sleep in the guest room, which is actually his old room. A lot of football posters, but the rest of the room is plain and renovated. I took him home at 10:30pm last night, and it's 11 in the morning the next day now. I creek the door open, with a glass of cold water. He's asleep, his phone next to him above the sheets. Quietly, slowly, I, creep over and put the water down on the bedside table. I don't want to wake him up. Gently, i rub his shoulder a little, and he tosses around a little bit once or twice, and then leave the room.
As I leave the room, the doorbell rings.
"I'll get it," Drista calls from downstairs. She quickly opens the door to see George.
"Oh, hey George," she says. "Are you here to see Clay?"
I walk down the stairs as George nods, and then I take him up to Clay's room.
"He's sleeping, but I'm sure he'd rather you wake him up than I do," I say. George thanks me and walks in.
GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:
Dream's just woken up as I walk in. He takes a sip of an icy cold glass of water, and looks up at me.
"Hey," I say. He moves over a little for me to sit on the bed with him.
"Hi," he responds.
"How are you going?" I ask, looking at him.
"Bad." He says. "I don't know what to do with myself. I don't have Kacey, I don't have Jake-" his voice starts to break. "I miss them. I miss Jake so much. Jake was my first friend, my only friend sometimes. He was the one guy I could just-" he starts to break into tears, absolutely bawling his eyes out. I help him lean onto my shoulder. He stops trying to speak, because he knows me and him can't understand what he's trying to express.
"I know," I hush. "I get it."
"No, George. You don't know," he suddenly says, angrily.
"What do you mean-"
"You didn't know Jake." He says. He gets off of me, gets up. "You didn't know anyone like Jake. And you didn't know Kacey. You don't get it." He mutters.
"Dream," I start.
"That stupid name," he mumbles. He starts to play with the hem of his shirt, anxiously. He starts looking around, like he's paranoid. "You don't get anything, you don't know anything.
"I'm sorry-"
"No, you're not!" He shouts.
I put my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands. "Dream. I'm really losing my patience with you." I mumble.
