Homocide Fifty || DNF

10. A Tribute

He heads to his office with so many thoughts on his mind that he can't even pick up the pencil who'd earlier caused him a cramp.

He just can't.

The only thing he's capable of, is drinking the Red Bull he bought. Secretly, he prefers energy drinks over coffee, but when there's a coffee machine so close, he's never bothered to get a Red Bull.

He checks his phone and sees four unread messages in total. Two of them are from Bad who has asked him if he's okay. Also one where he asked if he was lightheaded and needed pills.

A smile leaves George's face because of Bad's consideration. He texts back that he's okay.

The rest of the messages are from Clay. George hasn't had time to even think about Clay today because of all the things going on.

Clay told him the time he needs to be over for sushi, and George happily types back be there:).

Suddenly the wooden doors burst open, revealing none other than Wilbur. George quickly retreats his phone almost as a reflex.

Wilbur walks over to George's desk and gives him a look George can't decipher. Soon he can though.

"George! What happened out there? You totally went blank," He says almost hesitantly as if he's worried he'll say something wrong.

The only thing he regrets, is not going home earlier. Now he has to explain all of his lingering, agonising thoughts.

He doesn't. "I'm okay, I just didn't get a lot of sleep." He reassures Wilbur.

Wilbur scoffs, "are you serious? You left without saying anything and we were dead worried about you," He says loudly.

George is taken aback by Wilbur's sudden frustration, "I needed fresh air. Let me be, Wilbur. I don't want to talk about it!"

Wilbur is silent for a moment, fixing the collar of his suit as if it's been choking him this whole time.

George glances at the clock behind Wilbur. It reads— nevermind. Wilbur manages to block his view before he can process it.

"You need to start telling me where you're off to before you start trotting to the middle of nowhere, George."

"Why would I ever do that?" He scoffs and crosses his arms.

"Stop fucking running from your problems all of the time! This isn't just about right now, it's in general. It's like you don't have a ability to face the truth!" He roars. George feels his heartbeat rise. Okay, this is the game we're playing?

"Oh so you're mad at me for being stressed about a case that no one has solved yet? I've made more progress than any other detective has."

"That isn't my point."

"What is your point then, Wilbur?"

"My point is that you're being a dick right now," he sighs almost defeatedly, "and I need you to just try and communicate with us. You keep almost everything to yourself, even though you're not supposed to. It's not healthy for you."

George scoffs in annoyance, "Don't say what is and what isn't healthy for me. I'm a grown man, and I can take care of myself. Jeez, Wilbur, calm down. It's not like I have a billion secrets, you're overestimating it."

He opens a drawer and looks inside of it to see if there's anything interesting in it, just because of the silence.

The silence that Wilbur decides to hold for a whole minute, and George swears to god he's about to faint because of the angry tension in the air.

Wilbur is definitely overreacting.

"You're not perfect just because you're an adult. You still have things to work on, and I don't care about those things, but it really does affect how you work in the business, and that's what i care about. I'm not having your shit anymore, I'm tired of it." 

George looks up at Wilbur. He holds eye contact and Wilbur is the first one to break it. George finds yellow labels in the drawer and decides to fiddle with them.

Again. Nothing. He doesn't say anything, because what is he supposed to say? He didn't expect Wilbur to burst into his room and be a complete and utter annoyance.

Then he finally decides on something, and he doesn't know if it's a good or a bad decision. He figures he'll have to figure that out when he sees Wilbur's expression.

"Okay." George says, "you know what? Okay. Go home. Have the rest of the day off if you can't deal with me."

Wilbur raises a brow, stumped by George's sentence, though, his face is still stone-cold. He's definitely forcing it. He agrees though, and makes that his chance to leave.

When the door closes, George runs his hands down his face and through his hair. He mutters a small curse word because he knows deep down that Wilbur is right.

He knows that he doesn't tell the others a lot, and he likes to keep a lot to himself. He didn't realise that it was that big of a problem, though.

He decides to call off the sushi dinner with Sapnap and Clay. He just can't tonight.

He finishes signing paperwork, and then mutters a quick goodbye to Karl before leaving the building. He doesn't have any clue if the rest of the group is mad at him, or if it was just a sudden outburst of frustration from Wilbur's side.

He goes home that day with a lot of thoughts on his mind. He's also hungry, so he decides to go to the supermarket and buy a frozen pizza. It's kind of ironic how he lives in an apartment covered in gold, and then continues to buy a frozen pizza.

"You too," he almost says as if it's a command when the lady sitting at the cash register wishes him a good night.

He warms up the pizza and slouches down on the couch.

He hates Wilbur so much.

So, so much. He hates him for being so goddamn right all of the time.

It gets annoying sometimes when he just wants to be in his little bubble, and not be disturbed by anyone.

Speaking of not getting disturbed, his phone lights up next to him. Someone has texted him.

It reads okay. You good?

George stares confusedly at the message from Clay. He decides to text him that he's just had a long day.

Then he goes to bed. He goes to bed with one agonising thought.

It reads okay. You good?

George stares at the message from Clay confusedly. He decides to text back that it's just been a long day.

He goes to bed with one agonising thought. One lingering thought he can't get rid of, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself.

Who is Dream?