Homocide Fifty || DNF

12. Confidential

"They seem like a dick," Clay says defensively.

George chuckles, making mutual gaze with Clay. "They aren't, I get why they get mad. You don't need to have sympathy for me," he smiles genuinely.

"I will, we will," he smiles lightly, looking at Sapnap. Sapnap nods, a cheeky smile forming on his face.

"We'll have your back whenever," Sapnap says, looking at George. George thanks him with glistering eyes.

"It's just— like," he sighs, deciding he might as well, "there's these documents I found a while ago and they've taken a massive toll on me,"

"Documents?" Clay says quickly.

"Well, okay— this is kind of confidential so don't tell anyone, okay?" He looks at Clay and Sapnap. They nod, curious eyes glancing at him.

"Theres this person that has done some fucked up stuff and it's all there, on the document. It's valid evidence we could use to send this individual to jail," he breathes. He said it. Wilbur was right. He can say things.

"And you haven't told your employees about it yet?" Sapnap asks, raising a brow.

George isn't entirely sure why he hasn't.

"The situation we were in at the time wasn't the best. We were really stressed, and I didn't want to burden any of them. One of them is also good friends with this individual, and I don't want to ruin it."

Clay is silent for a moment. His face even bugs out a bit before he speaks up, "I'm sorry we can't really help. I hope you solve the case soon, though," he smiles. Sapnap smiles as well.

"Thanks," he says unsurely. How does one say thank you?

Sapnap huffs, looking at Clay. "That was a hesitant thanks."

"Stop mocking me, I'm working on it," he chuckles.

Clay laughs with him. Sapnap just rolls his eyes.

"Sushi ready!" Clay bursts, carrying almost everything in one go. He manages to carry it all in three go's, even though the two others insisted they'd help.

"It looks yummy," Sapnap says, digging in as the first.

Now everyone's eating the sushi, and the rain is pouring outside. The sun has reached its peak, and Sapnap gets the suns ray in his face again, even considering the curtains helped beforehand.

George laughs at that, dipping his sushi in a tiny bit of wasabi. He flinches at the spicy taste, but gets used to it quickly.

Clay can't handle even a bit of spiciness. He makes sure to tell the others that he will never be eating wasabi again.

One thing George notices, is Sapnap's cheeky smile. It reminds him of Karl's smile.

"We should totally do this some other time again at your place, George," Sapnap says enthusiastically. He laughs.

George doesn't get it, why his place?

"Why my—" he gets interrupted by Sapnap, "I've heard your apartment is like rich. You're rich. I want to see," he says with an enlightened gaze.

George would've left if it wasn't for the fact that they both met him before they knew about his rather wealthy lifestyle.

"Gold digger much," George says sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his brunette friend. They all laugh.

"I'd love to be," he smirks at George. George makes a gagging sound, slumping in his chair.

"You need to work on your rizz, Sapnap," Clay affirms.

"Agreed."

"Okay," he says sassily," and how many partners have you had? Huh?" He asks playfully raising a brow, looking at George and Clay back and forth.

"One hundred," George says cockily.

"Me too," Clay continues, making mutual gaze with George. They chuckle.

Sapnap rolls his eyes, munching on the last piece of sushi on his plate. George notices how Clay's hair perfectly frames his face when the sun is beaming atop it.

It always frames his face. He just finds an explanation this time, out of the other hundred times he's though about that.

He yawns, looking away. The sun has finally decides to travel further, now not hitting Sapnap's face or Clay's hair.

George decides it's his queue to leave. The two others discuss about Celsius versus Fahrenheit.

He sees three missed calls from Karl and one from Bad. Of course. He leaves for a few hours, and then suddenly it's like his friends are dependent of him.

He sighs, saying goodbye. Clay's stare lingers on George with a worried expression before he looks down at his finished plate.

"Bye," he vocalises, shutting the door.

He can't help but smile, thinking about how the two had just made his day. He checks his clock, seeing it has hit 5pm two minutes ago.

He calls back Karl while heading home.

"Hello?"

"George!" Karl says. George can't seem to figure out if he's mad or not, so he keeps his tone monotone.

"Hey," he says lightly.

"Why'd you leave early?" he asks, exhaling through the phone as if he's been holding his breath this entire time, "I was worried about you."

George's heart skips a beat.

Karl was worried about him?

Why does he care in the first place?

"I got a headache," he lies.

"Oh. Okay," Karl says.

George makes a grimace to himself when Karl says that. He sounds disappointed.

The sky gets slightly darker and cold air makes his nose and cheeks flushed. He hates it.

"I'll be there full time tomorrow, I swear," he reassures Karl. He won't disappoint him anymore.

He says goodbye to Karl and then texts Bad that he's fine. When he enters his apartment, he yawns.

He gets changed into sweats and a black t-shirt. It feels good to get the jammed suit off. He makes food for tomorrow afternoon, figuring he'll be too lazy to do it tomorrow.

He also makes a list of groceries, making a mental note to send it to his butler so he can buy it. He can't be bothered to right now.

After brushing his teeth, he decides he's done for the day.

He lays down in his warm, unoccupied bed. He might as well go to bed early tonight because he remembers his desolate eye bags.

The next day, he gets awoken by a loud noise. The birds outside are barely chirping and it's still fairly dark.

Did his alarm go off too early?

He soon gets his answer to that, which is a solid no.

It's Quackity.

Quackity never calls George.

His heartbeat unawarely fastens, his breath catching when he picks up the phone.

"Dream killed again," Quackity says through the phone with a hurried voice.

George goes wide-eyed. He doesn't even respond, he just finds his suit and puts it on quickly.

The tie is too tight. He doesn't care. He has no time.

"George," Quackity says loudly, trying to catch the attention of the stressed, rushing brunette.

George picks up his shoes and puts them on.

He ties the laces quickly.

"Yes?" He answers, forgetting that Quackity had even asked him a question.

He puts on his jacket, rushing outside with his leather bag resting on his left shoulder.

"The body was found in your office."