Homocide Fifty || DNF

25. Scapegoat

"I'm good! Are you okay? Oh shit—" she muffles, a trudging sound getting exclaimed from the line.

"What's going on?"

"I stepped in poo!" She laments, mumbling ew multiple times.

"What? How?" George grins, a spark of positive energy getting sent through his body.

"These phone boxes are rubbish," she says, tucking her brown, long hair behind her ears.

"You're in a phone box? The red ones?" George asks, bewildered by his mom's commitment. "Do they even work anymore?" He smiles, hearing rustling from the other line.

"I mean, yeah. I saw you were calling on my phone and then I figured I'd call you using the phone box instead. It's kind of ironic how I live in London and I've never tried one of them," she smiles. It sounds like she's applying lip balm onto her lips a few seconds later.

"It's so windy over here," she continues, "and orange leaves are everywhere, including Hyde Park. I saw an article about how they'd try and use a handheld leaf hoover to clear out the whole park," she laughs. "Impossible."

George leans back in his chair, tracing a finger up and down the fabric of his suit. He scrunches his nose at his mom's idiotic research on the most idiotic things.

"I miss feeding the swans," George says honestly, remembering when he was younger where he begged his mom to buy bread in Tesco and feed the swans and ducks.

"I bet they miss you too, fuzz ball," she smiles.

"You need to stop with that fuzz ball thing," George facepalms, his mouth turning upwards. He can't get himself to stop the wide grin plastered onto his face.

"You love it," she remarks.

"I do," he admits, deciding to change the subject, "I'm going to Wilbur's concert tomorrow."

"Wilbur? That sweet little curly haired boy?" She beams.

George feels embarrassed. Like he's a teenager again, embarrassed by his mothers actions.

"Yes, him," he scrunches his nose, a glint in his eye. His eyelashes beam, seeming particularly long.

"I remember when you two were younger, you'd catch butterflies just to look at them. You caught a blue one once, and I remember the way your cute, chubby face looked. You were so excited," she tells.

"And that's also how I found out I was red-green colourblind."

It sounds like she tilts her head to the side. The wind is still immense, making her voice scrawny and ambiguous. "Yeah. Also that," she grins. It sounds like she's jolling.

George wonders if he should tell her about his little incident.. his little slip up which led him to being locked up in an isolated room.

He settles for the easier option. "I think I've almost solved the Dream case," he airs, subconsciously nodding to himself.

"Really? That's great, peach, oh my god!" She contently expresses her excitement. George is so happy he has such a loving mom.

They talk for a while. George decides on telling his mother about being locked up, which his mom responds shocked to. She's proud he got out of that situation, but she also says that he has to be careful. And to give her a call more often.

Something about her not wanting to lose someone important to her again.

They've both tried that.

When George ends the call because she claims she needs to wipe off the poo on her posh, red heels, he decides to text Wilbur about how excited he is for tomorrow. He decides on inviting Sapnap and Clay. He also makes up an excuse on why he's been absent these past few days.