The Voice of An Angel, the Voice of the Devil || DNF

404; swordfights create tension

The first round started about five minutes ago, and George felt a newfound rush of adrenaline. When the band was first created, they would come to the arcade almost everyday, and specifically play laser tag.

So, George had to say; he was pretty good.

He turned a corner as the lights went dark, only neon was left. Lights of colors that he assumed were red, blue, purple, and green flashed. When he was younger, he knew this arena like the palm of his hand--now, not so much. He raised the gun and pressed the trigger, aiming at Wilbur's vest.

Wilbur groaned as the screen of his gun flashed, telling him he'd been hit. But, George had a few tricks up his sleeve as he hurried beneath a ramp. He heard another groan, it came from his teammate, Techno; he had been hit by Wilbur.

Techno noticed George beneath the ramp, and the brunet only cursed slightly as the taller entered as well. It was a tight space.

"Where's everybody else?" Techno asked. "I can't seem to find a lot of them- Dream, Evander, Lynx, Ranboo, Tommy."

George thought for a moment "There's this secret passageway that takes a shitload of effort to find. Tommy and Evander know about it, so they're probably in there."

Techno hummed, backing away. "Alright, I'll go look for it."

With that, he left the safety of the underside of the ramp. George shook himself off before following. Wilbur had left the area as well. George wouldn't be surprised if almost everyone had found the secret room.

So, he went that way too. He ducked beneath a small door, which led to a room with dozens of ramps, bridges, and shelter. Immediately, George saw Evander and Lynx, and even though he couldn't see everyone else, he could hear the patter of footsteps.

His gun buzzed, and as he checked the screen, he saw as it lit, notifying him that he had been hit. George lifted the gun and spun around quickly to find Dream grinning. "Hey pretty boy, what took you so long to get here?"

George raised his gun to hit him back, but Dream darted behind a wall. "I was busy beating your team's ass."

"Sure."

Dream hit him again. He groaned. This man was good at this.

But, Dream didn't see George as the brunet hit him in the back of his vest. Dream spun quickly, raising his gun, but he had already shot Karl, so his gun was still reloading. George's on the other hand, seemed to reload faster as he hit the blond again.

Dream confided in hiding behind a thin, George could see his silhouette. But, as he let his eyes wander for a quick second, Dream's silhouette had vanished. George tightened the grip on his gun. It was a mere game, yet his adrenaline was pumping.

He could see Techno, Lynx, Ranboo in his line of sight. Tommy was running from someone.

He then felt his gun buzz and the screen light up, and only seconds later, there was a grunt and somebody fell into him. George practically landed on his back, and fucking Dream had fallen into him.

The blond was leaning over him, lands on either side. A stupid grin fell on his face when he noticed. "Hey, sweetheart. I couldn't stop my fall."

George scoffed. "Okay, well, get the hell off of me."

Laughing quietly, Dream got to his feet, dusting off his clothes. The lights of the arena then brightened as the round ended. Dream held his hand out to help George, but the brunet merely shook it off as he stood on his own.

As the two teams began leaving the arena, George noticed how his heart was beating, fast. Stupidly fast. His breath had also shortened. He blamed it on the game. But, deep down, he knew it had something to do with Dream.

'''''''

Once the two bands parted, George was quick to get into the car. He suddenly had to urge to go home. Thankfully, it was where they were headed.

The rest of them followed; Wilbur chose to drive, Evander hopped into the passenger seat, and Quackity and Karl joined him in the backseat.

Everybody seemed to be exhausted from the day. The car was quiet, save for Tommy's humming. George could tell it was one of Take Me To Hell's songs, so he tried his best to tune it out. The event with Dream had caused something in George's mind to turn. He couldn't tell what it was.

Once Evander had dropped them off at their house, George entered quickly, a smile on his face as Queenie came around a corner to greet them. He spread him arms and scooped her up. She quietly mewed and climbed onto his shoulder. She loved sitting on everybodys' shoulders.

There was a comfortable silence as the group parted throughout the first floor of their house. Quackity went to sit on the couch, pulling out his phone and presumably clicking on twitter. Tommy pulled a tub of ice cream of out of the freezer and went to sit at the counter, Wilbur followed, grabbing his own tub of ice cream.

As George opened the doors of their fridge, Wilbur was the first to speak. "That was fun, you guys have to admit it."

Tommy quickly said, "Yeah! Ranboo's quite fun to be around."

"And Karl," Quackity added, swinging his legs over the arm of the couch.

"What 'bout you, George?" Wilbur asked. All of their eyes fell onto him. "I saw you with Dream. You were smiling, and he gave you the stuffed cta he got from the claw machine. Which I had to take to the car because you almost forgot it."

As if making his point, Wilbur threw him the stuffed cat. George caught it, Queenie meowed loudly, the sudden movement disturbing her peace.

George scowled. "I guess it was fun."

Wilbur hummed. "I'll take it. It's better than you sulking all the time."

"I do not," George said,

Tommy changed the subject. "We have the songs we want to do for the next concert, right?" He asked. "It's in two days. I just want to make sure."

George gave him a sweet smile. "Duh, don't worry. We're doing three this time, same with Take Me To Hell."

The four continued to talk for the next hour until they decided to part ways. George headed upstairs and shut the door to his bedroom behind him. Queenie hopped off of his shoulder and made herself comfortable on the seat of his desk.

George found a pair of sweats, so he shrugged off his shirt and changed into those sweats.

He was tired, so he flopped into his bed, arms bent over his forehead as he stared into the ceiling.

He couldn't sleep for the next couple of hours, though. His mind raced, thoughts appeared every second. And once very specific event kept repeating.

The incident with Dream.