Play your part (and avoid the look in his eyes)

Part 19

Packing has never been something George was good at. A sigh passes through a pierced mouth as he tries to remember what he was looking for, spinning on his heels to scratch at his scalp and think. Nothing he thinks of comes to mind.

He's already packed all of his unneeded things, his body feeling like a corpse tied to a rock at the bottom of a lake. He's sinking, drowning in boredom and it hasn't even reached 10 in the morning.

How is he going to survive? Boredom is one of the few emotions George can't deal with. Boredom, and quite obviously, love. Dream still sits perfectly in the back of his mind, bringing a faint flush to his cheeks every time he sits alone and thinks hard enough about the boy, but he's made up his mind, and he thinks ignoring the ginger will be the best for both of them - in the short and long term run.

George drops his body onto the bag filled sofa, the sit quite uncomfortable but definitely needed. The chains attached to his clothing rattles and he stares at them for what feels like hours before he hears a knock on his trailer door. He knows he needs to get up and answer it, but his body is so tired and he's already forgotten that there was someone even there. He sits blankly in his seat, the void of the person gone before George could even gather the strength to look up.

Eventually though, he leaves his trailer. His alarm blaring and dragging him back to reality to send him off to work, his boot splashing at least 3 buckets of water on his ankles as he stomps through the puddles and rain, trampling on a poor soggy note that had fallen into one of the puddles on his way.

The sight of everything around him being so empty makes George's mind fry. He tries to look around for some of his friends, but he can't seem to catch any of them, or their trailers. Even Dream, the boy he was at least expecting a snarky remark from before he left, was nowhere to be found. It was as if they had all vanished from George's life in the time he had been in his trailer.

The same feeling from all those weeks ago slowly warms back, a small flame of attraction towards the ginger sparking at the bottom of George's gut, only to be stepped on and kicked out by his horrid brain.

"Whatever." George mumbles to himself, dragging his eyes away from the empty site to focus on the building ahead of him, a few droplets of rain landing on his eyeliner-smudged eyes and dripping the makeup down his cheeks.

He apologised to Taylor in advance.

She doesn't get mad though, her normally playful attitude being replaced by the same type of vibe you'd get from your teachers on the last day of school. They're upset, but also relieved to be finally done. George starts to wonder if maybe he had been a bother, the ball of his tongue piercing falling between his fingers as he lets the memory of Dream play back through his mind.

If Dream had wanted to see George before he left, he would've. George doesn't need to be beating himself up over a guy he chose to try and get over.  He doesn't need to be staring at the blank profile of a number that no longer has an owner, it long abandoned by the finger after his final few messages to George before he changed it.

George sighs, his hand running through his styled curls as he smiles at Taylor from a distance. He's never going to see her again, unless by some random chance they're placed together in a new job - but George highly doubts that. He wishes he could thank her for everything she'd done for him in these past months, but he knows he'll never be able to get the words out - he never can. No matter how hard he stumbles or how long someone waits for him to finish, George will never be able to properly express his feelings towards another person, and that's probably why he keeps finding himself messaging Dream's old number.

It's a bit pathetic, really, George knows that. He knows that every time his world seems anything but perfect he doesn't need to stare at unopened messages. Messages that were sent, but never really received. There for only him to read with no one on the other side to share them. They're his and only his. George's, but not really Dream's.

He dreads the day someone new gets the number. He prays every night that God will do something right and keep this number hidden from the rest of this world, that he won't wake up one day to a message claiming to be a stranger and not someone that goes by the name 'Dream'.

George doesn't care though. He hid his feelings for Dream. He pushed those painful nights into the back of his mind and forgot about his attraction. He made sure that this would happen, so why is he so upset that it did? Things between them weren't supposed to end like this, were they? They were supposed to get over their petty arguments and spend more than just list filled nights together. They were never supposed to just leave each other as just one night stands. Co-workers with the extra attention - enemies with a little more love than they let on.

Wc: 931