Dream
I will never understand some people at this school. I never said I would and never expected to, but each day surprises me with something new.
Walking down these hallways has become second nature. I've walked down them enough times now to navigate my way to wherever blindfolded, probably. But, even without the blindfold, I'm walking back to my quarters with so much on my mind that I'm barely paying much attention to my surroundings anyway.
I finally reach the door of my quarters and open it, noticing it is already unlocked. That meant one thing and one thing only.
"Woah, snap out of it, man. You look like you're about to have an aneurysm, and it's grossing me out," my roommate says as he looks up at me from his laptop that is perched securely on his lap as he sits on his bed.
"Spell aneurysm," I reply dryly as I immediately make my way to my closet, pulling out a six-pack of San Miguel for us. It was a Monday afternoon. I was meant to have soccer practice. Unfortunately, the English have corrupted me into calling football. However, it was raining, and training was canceled. We usually manage at least forty minutes in the rain during Spring but in Winter? Absolutely not.
"A-N- shut the fuck up and hand one over," he replies as he puts his laptop to the side and entirely focuses on my presence in our room. "But seriously, Dream, I've never seen you so pent up. Maybe once or twice, and that usually has to do with soccer or your mo-"
"It's not football or my mom, Sapnap," I stop him, throwing a bottle over to him. All he does is tilt his head and raise a brow for me to continue. "It's the new kid."
"You mean the Prince?" he asks as he opens the bottle with the edge of his nightstand. "Kinda cool that he's at our school, right? We should become friends with him. Imagine the fucking perks."
Fucking idiot.
"I don't like him," I state, my mouth tasting sour. The thought of someone like Prince George made me feel nauseous. Sick to the pit of my stomach. It was an unexplainable feeling, but it was a feeling I would rather spend my life not feeling. "He's a stuck-up asshole, who doesn't give a flying fuck about his family, and honestly, Sap, there's not a single thing in the papers from the last three years that has a single nice thing to say about him. He's not good for us."
Sapnap stares at me for a second too long before my frustration grows.
"If you've got something to say, either spit it out or swallow it with a swig," I say, heading over to the windowsill and taking my usual seat on the left side. He doesn't hesitate before getting off his bed and sitting before me.
"I just think this is very out of character for you," he starts, and I silently take a swig. "You're all about scouting someone out before fully judging them. You're not doing that with the Prince. Are you upset because he's a 'bad guy,' or is it something else?"
Sapnap and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. The first memory I can recall at all is a memory with him, and since we met, most memories I have, Sapnap's in them. The two of us have been inseparable since the day we met, and I don't see that changing any time soon.
"Fine, you get the truth," I cave, playing with the bottle in my hand to avoid eye contact. "Ever since people found out the Prince was coming to the school, I've felt less seen." Selfish, snobbish, self-conceited. I know.
"Less seen?" Sapnap asks, shifting slightly to sit closer to me. He did that whenever I was in a mood; he felt like being closer to me would help me. He wasn't wrong. My first instinct was to distance myself whenever I was in a negative mindset. In doing so, I feel far from people, even if they're right next to me. However, Sapnap always remains close before I can even distance myself emotionally.
"Yeah, like- before he came, it was you and me. Of course, there were already kids a part of royal families from around the world. But, still, nothing was as cool as the President of the United States' son," I start, finally taking the opportunity to observe his expression. He was looking back at me as if he was trying to decode what I was trying to say before I had even said it. "It felt good, Sapnap. I felt important. Sure, it was for the same reasons I was important in the states, but eventually, it felt like people liked me for me. The Prince arriving just reminded me that it was never because of my personality. So fuck it, if it was always because of who my mother is, then I want that back. I like feeling seen. I like feeling important."
"You are important," he states as if it was the most obvious thing. "Important to your mom-"
"Not really-"
"Shut up, she loves you," he smiles before continuing. "Important to your sister?" raising a brow as if to challenge me to disagree. I stay silent. "Important to me."
I look at him now, waiting for a joke to follow, but none comes.
"You're such an idiot," I smile before hiding it with the bottle's rim and taking another sip.
"No, seriously, Dream," he starts again, determined to convey his message. "You don't need these artificial spotlights. That's not the guy I became best friends with. The guy I became best friends with liked hiding in the library during recess. Liked sitting with the new kids and introducing himself to them, making sure they had a friend until they fully settled in and finding their own way." I want him to stop. I know that's who I once was, but times have changed, and pages have turned. Since my mom became the President, I'm no longer part of that book. It's a whole new genre.
"I know things aren't all the same anymore," Reading my mind now, are we? "But that doesn't mean you have to be any different than you once were. You know I will support you no matter what, man, but I also want you to know it's okay to be the old Dream; he was cooler anyway."
I kick him with my leg and smile before we laugh, trying to push each other off the windowsill. Once the laughing dies down and we both stand our ground in our seats, I think back to the old times.
"Do you remember when we first met?" I ask him as I finish the last bit of my drink and place the empty bottle on the floor below me. Sapnap looks at me with a soft smile, rolling his eyes playfully.
"Neighborhood playground," he states, downing the rest of his beer. "I remember it all too well."
"I was building a sandcastle, and you came charging over, accidentally stepping on it and crushing it. I wanted to cry, but you insisted we could build it together."
"And we did. You can't even lie, man. It was ten times better when I helped you out the second time. Your first one looked kinda shit. I did you a favor." It did look better. He wasn't wrong. That's how I see many things play out in our friendship. Things with Sapnap around are better than if I were to do them alone. That's why he's here in Scotland, to begin with.
I hated living in the White House. I had no problem with my mom's success. I was happy for her and supported her throughout her campaign before the election, but the rules were neverending once she was in office. I did it all. I did everything for her.
But politics wasn't my life. I didn't fit in how she needed me to, so leaving seemed the better option.
The day Sapnap and I met at the playground was the same time Sapnap's dad and my mom met. They have been the best of friends since then. First, bonding over politics and eventually ran together, agreeing that she'd run for the presidency and he'd be her vice president, which is why it was easy to convince my mom to send me to IBRA. If Sapnap's dad agreed to it, she was also on board. He was much more considerate about our feelings once he worked at the White House. My mom? Not as much.
But the agreement was settled, and both Sapnap and I came to IBRA around two years ago. It would be a far more shitty experience without him, just like everything else. And even though things are easier here. Less strenuous. I missed the old days in the playground when things were just... easy.
I woke up the next day in a better mood than the day before. Maybe I could be the old Dream. Maybe my status didn't have to matter as much to me as it did to everyone else.
I managed to keep that mentality until walking into the library after school to get a headstart on homework. That's when I see him—surrounded by a crowd of gawking dukes and duchesses, starstruck trust fund babies, and children of well-known entrepreneurs.
I managed to stick to the old Dream for six to almost seven hours, but this was enough to suck me back into my self-conceited cycle of ego.
Eventually, the crowd simmers down. Not one of them approached me to say hi or ask how my day went like usual. He's taken my place. He's replaced me, and I don't think I can stand it for another second until I'm standing in front of him once he's finally sat alone at a table.
"I don't like you," I say as I lean closer for him to hear me in the quiet environment. He looks up at me through his lashes and raises a brow, a book open before him.
"Believe me, Mr. Carter, I am well aware." Prestigious asshole.
"Good, get used to it," I start before closing the book before him. "Let me know when that thought starts getting lost in the back of your mind. I'll be more than happy to remind you."
He stares at his closed book momentarily before sighing and looking up at me entirely this time. As if challenging me.
"You are doing a lot to get my attention, Dream; lean any closer, and I'd think you're begging for a kiss." I immediately pull back, not expecting such a forward thing from someone like him. My eyes only widen for a slight moment before I readjust myself.
"You can remind me every single day if that boosts your ego," the Prince starts again, leaning back in his chair but still holding a stoic posture. "People like you don't phase me, Dream. Unfortunately, I know people like you far too well. You think you own everything. You thrive off of the idea of manipulating others to benefit yourself, completely acting like someone you're not because you're just a little insecure twat who chooses to sweep your problems underneath the carpet instead of facing them head-on like a normal person would."
I'll pretend like every word didn't cut me. Old wounds are reopening. Instead, I put on a matching smile and leaned closer again. Ignoring his previous comment about the position. "Maybe you're familiar with the people you're describing because you have to endure seeing them every time you look in the mirror.
I can't bare the sight of him any longer. I can't stand the close proximity either. So I decided to scratch the headstart on homework and found myself storming out of the library, making my way to the hockey field instead.
Sapnap was captain of the field hockey team, and today he got to play a match with a neighboring school. Not that there were any other schools on the Isle of Bute, but the rest of Scotland surrounded us and took up any opportunity to compete with the sporting teams around here. It was always fun getting to see Sap in action on the field. He was a good team leader, always making the right calls and treating his team with respect. I'm sure that's why they win every time.
I manage a good twenty minutes of cheering my best friend on the field before my head is clouded with my earlier conversation in the library. He wasn't wrong. He was spot on. I wasn't wrong, either. The Prince and I had much more in common than I thought we did, or maybe I knew all along. Maybe that's why I couldn't stand him because he reminds me so much of all the negative things I wish I weren't, but is that enough for me to dislike him as much as I claim to?