-No Stranger To Unfairness-
Out of all the ways I could've spent time after dropping George off at Lia's place, coding was definitely not one of the things I should've chosen. My intentions were great, along the lines of productivity and getting work done.
However, the heavily Lia-reliant plan that was taking place at the same time put a slight hindrance upon my ability to program even the simplest of statements. I was hardcore stressing about whether or not Lia would comply and go along with the plan, praying that the threats to her vanity and beauty would keep her in line. Hopefully abusing her narcissism and pride would work for me.
The conditional else if statement regarding my productivity level was looking more like an else not right about now.
I also couldn't really focus or concentrate because I was ridiculously intoxicated by the thought of all the future possibilities with George by my side. My mind was in a very happy place, my imagination running rife as I slowly gave in to the idyllic fantasies I was conjuring in my head. They were beautiful scenes, and I had no issue with mentally indulging a little bit whilst I waited for George to come home.
The entourage of voices in my head didn't help with my attempt to program. They were teasing me, playing tug of war with my thoughts until everything was a convoluted mess of a landscape my true mental voice could barely navigate and make sense of. The strident voices screamed at the dulcet, the abrasive at the soft, like how the devil spoke malevolence and malice to oppose the angel's benevolent and rather altruistic words. Ying and yang were playing a game in my mind.
Then, George came home.
The front door opened, slowly and quietly. The slight creak broke the heavy silence in the apartment, pulling me out of my reverie and back into reality. And for once, reality seemed to be in my favour. I turned to see George step inside and shut the door behind him, his movements slow and listless.
"George?" I asked. I didn't get a response. George dropped his hand back to his side and slumped down on the couch beside me, silent tears leaving glistening tracks down his face.
"George, what is it?" I asked softly, putting an arm around him. I knew of my own doings, of course. It was all just for my facade's sake. All to make me not seem like a fucking creep. George shook his head slowly, his eyes downcast.
"She-" His breath hitched in his throat.
"Who?" I asked quietly, the omniscient knowledge I had of what happened requiring a herculean effort to suppress and stifle. I had to be convincingly empathetic, and the hollow fulfillment of triump wouldn't be beneficial to my cause at all. Come on, I've been able to keep up all the lies for twenty one years now. I can do this.
"Lia. S-s-she-" George exhaled shakily, tears sliding down his face. I moved a little closer, shifting my weight slightly. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel satisfaction in knowing that my plan had worked, at least a little bit. But I would also be lying if I said that satisfaction wasn't tainted by the sight of such heartbreak, such sorrow. Strange.
"What'd she do, George?" I asked. George sobbed, his composure crashing down like the world around him. He buried his face in his hands and slumped forward. He looked up at me, his face flushed and pink, his eyes shining with tears. I felt a pang of discontent hit me. No, I'm not supposed to feel guilty. This can't be reget. It's nothing. Ignore it, ignore it.
"She cheated on me. Lia cheated on me." He whispered hollowly, his voice shaky and weak. George closed his eyes and burst into more sobs, his back quivering and trembling. I gently rubbed circles into his back, letting him cry without saying a single word. He deserved some time to be sad, and though I didn't know what that felt like, I knew that people needed time to cope with things. But for my sake I hoped he didn't need that much time. Again, more discontent bloomed. No, now is not the time. Especially for something I'm not supposed to feel.
"I can't believe she'd do this to me. I-, I never thought this would happen to me. I thought I'd suffered enough at the hands of love, or what I thought was love." George whispered, his voice catching. I nodded and continued rubbing his back as he cried.
"I'm really sorry, George." I said softly.
I was truly sorry, but what I did was necessary. It was for the greater good. But was it really? My mind asked quietly. Shut up. I sat there with George for a few minutes before George exhaled and shakily got up from the couch, holding tears back. He shuffled to his door, shut himself in his room and locked the door with a click, the following silence in the apartment heavy and stifling like it had been before.
What was that discontent I felt? No way was it guilt. I didn't feel guilt. Well, I wasn't supposed to feel guilt, or anything. So why did it feel like I did? I assured myself it was probably sympathy I didn't even really feel, because I didn't even know what sadness felt like. But I found myself doubting my own assurance. I even found myself doubting what I did to break Lia and George up. Maybe there had been another way to get George, an alternative way to take him from Lia without hurting him.
No, I reminded myself. This was the only good way, the most efficient and effective way. Lia wasn't good for George. I'm helping him. This will benefit him. This was a good decision. This was something I needed to do for my own good, and George's well-being. It was a good choice. It benefits everybody.
But one thought continued to circulate, overpowering the rest. If it was a good choice, why do I feel so uneasy and doubtful?
I never did, and wasn't supposed to feel anything. But then why did I feel inklings of something resembling guilt and remorse? Doctors and specialists could never tell me what was wrong, and all they could say was that I would never feel. But then, how did a single person like George manage to make me feel something? Even if the inklings of guilt were infinitesimal, they existed.
And they weren't supposed to.
George didn't emerge from his room for the rest of the day. I let him have his time alone, but seven, eight hours passed, and I was concerned about him. So I took matters into my own hands and knocked on his door, my hand hovering above the wood.
"George?" I asked. No response. I sighed and tried again.
"Are you in there?" I asked, a little clearer. A shaky sob sounded from inside.
"May I please come in?"
"I can't anymore." George sobbed. I listened to him cry from within, my stomach twisting in knots. I needed to make sure he was alright. The stirrings of remorse must have been a sign that I was truly concerned. Hopefully.
"George, could you open the door? Please?"
"Everything's too much, Clay, I can't, I can't, I can't." He cried, his voice a broken, feeble whisper. Frail and much too weak, like a decayed leaf in the strong wind. Doubt of my own prior actions clouded my head for a second, but I shook the thoughts away and continued pleading with George.
"Please, can I come in?"
"I can't do this, I can't." George let loose a frail sob.
"Please. George, please let me in." I begged.
"I'm sorry, Clay. I can't," He whispered, "I can't do it."
"I just want to make sure you're okay. I promise I won't do anything more. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I just want to help." I said softly. I meant those words. I did.
"Promise?" George sniffed.
"I promise," I started, my voice quiet, "I promise that all I want to do is make sure you're okay right now. I just want to help you." I could hear the pause, the stillness and silence as George contemplated if he could let me in.
"Okay then." His voice was small and delicate, but those words were what I needed to hear. I heard the faint click of the lock and gently eased the door open, quietly shutting it behind me as I entered George's room.
George was sitting on the floor against the foot of his bed, his knees curled into his chest and his arms tightly wrapped around himself. Tear stains marked the front of his shirt. I slid down beside him and put an arm around his small frame, pulling him closer. George relaxed and slumped against me, exhaling. I felt something warm bloom in my stomach, an electrifying feeling that I hadn't felt before. It ran through my veins and chased the iciness of fear away, settling into me.
First embers of remorse. Now this? No way. No way am I starting to feel. No fucking way. It was probably just my mind playing tricks. It was probably all tricks and lies.
"Do you wanna talk about it? You don't have to, I just want to know how you feel, if you're willing to share." I asked softly, shifting myself a little bit closer to him. George squeezed his eyes shut, more tears streaking down his face.
"I-I guess so." He said shakily. I nodded and tightened my hold on him.
"S-s-so I walked into her apartment b-because the door was unlocked, and I went to h-her, her bedroom and then-" His breath hitched, another sob threatening to emerge. George swallowed and wiped away his tears.
"Lia was w-with another g-, another guy, and it hurt so, so bad to see that. Cheaters never grow up, I guess." He shut his eyes again, his lashes inky crescents upon his skin.
"Anything else?" I asked gently. George nodded and bit his lip.
"S-s-she said that she got bored of me. That I should've l-listened to all the rumours, all the gossip." I was very surprised that Lia had clearly done her job thoroughly.
"And she said that she h-hadn't had any fun in t-two years, so I should leave and let her have her some." George sobbed, his composure crumbling. Lia had done her job, much better than I would've thought. Good.
But at the same time, seeing George, someone who typically never cried or was as emotional as most people so broken down and devastated made an uneasiness flutter in my stomach, a little stronger than the prior discontent. No way was I feeling guilt. No way. Again, it was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.
"That's horrible, George," I whispered, "I can't believe she'd do something like that to you. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." I wanted to believe myself. I really did. But omniscient knowledge obstructed my ability to believe myself, my own lies.
"I wish all the pain would just go away. This hurts so, s-so bad." George's voice was hollow. I squeezed him a little tighter.
"I wish I could help it go away. Lia sucks, George. She sucks. This all sucks." I assured him, my voice warm and gentle. George nodded, tears gathering in his eyes once again. I could tell he was hurting, but I needed to know just a little bit more. I was genuinely curious.
"Was that it, though? Did Lia say anything else to you?" I asked, wanting to know the extent of the emotional damage Lia wreaked under my control.
"L-Lia also said-" George broke into more sobs, his back quivering. I made sure to pull him a little closer to me, stroking his back. Lia had done a better job than I anticipated.
"She said..." I let George continue.
"That bitch b-brought up Olivia. Lia said that I should've learned my lesson from her." George whispered. I gasped, genuinely shocked that Lia had done this. I didn't expect her to take the words break him so seriously. Nobody with any tact, even Lia, would even consider bringing up someone like Olivia.
"I g-guess she wasn't wrong. I should've learned." George mumbled quietly, silent tears sliding down his face. I could see his bottom lip trembling, threatening more tears and more crying. More uneasiness churned in my stomach, and I yearned to feel that comforting warmth again. I scooted away and opened both arms to George.
"Come here, Georgie." I smiled, pulling George onto my lap and wrapping my arms around him. I rested my chin on George's head (tall person tropes weren't all wrong) and nestled my jaw in George's soft brown hair.
"It's not that gay to hug your homies, right?" I mused jokingly, putting aside my feelings. George laughed shakily.
"Not unless you make it. No homo." He said quietly, a small smile on his face. I'd have to work on that last part. But right now, it didn't matter. Whatever, I got George to smile. I'm helping him.
No you aren't, wasn't it you that orchestrated all this? Wasn't it all your fault? All your doings? My mind was trying to make me feel bad, but I tried equally hard to ignore it. Shut it, me. Shut it. The world forced my hand. I didn't want to, but I had to. George and I lapsed back into silence, me playing with George's hair whilst George slowly regained his composure and let his tears dry.
"Even what Olivia did didn't hurt this much." George said quietly, breaking the silence. There were no more jokes now. I felt a red-hot pike of anger spear my heart. The familiar flush of rage being the only emotion I was really familiar with, and it was kind of comforting knowing I was in any way human.
"Olivia walked so Lia could run." George continued, tears welling up again. Dammit. I stroked George's hair as he continued. He needed to get this off his chest.
"After everything Olivia did to me, I was so, so sad. She broke me and played me for fun. She gaslighted me and lied to me more than she showed me affection. But when I found Lia, I-" His breath caught, "I was so happy, because I had someone to be with. I was so happy to have found someone who loved me, who wouldn't hurt me anymore. I didn't think anybody could do any worse than Olivia."
"I was so, so wrong." George whispered. I felt rage gather in my chest, tight and hot. It was't just guilt now. I felt angry, not at myself, but at Olivia. The fact that I had to orchestrate Olivia part two and hurt George so much infuriated me and angered me to my very core. But, I continued holding onto George and listening. Ranting was important for recovery.
"I had just recovered and gotten over Olivia, and then Lia comes along, steals my heart for two years and then-" George paused, "then she throws it in the dirt and stomps on it, like it all meant nothing to her. I was worth nothing to Lia, nothing, nothing, nothing."
"She set me back to square one. She held me up just so I could fall. She played trust fall with me, but instead of catching me she let me fall onto the pavement and break. She let me fall." I could hear the weak but certain anger rising in George, his voice getting harder and harder.
"I can't believe I trusted such a liar." All the anger dissipated, replaced with crushing anguish. Sobs shook George's body, and I silently rubbed circles on his back as he continued crying. The anger I felt receded slightly.
"No, George. It's not your fault. It was a fucked up thing for Lia to do, and what Olivia did was fucked up too. Nothing that happened was because of you. You got unlucky and managed to get in with two evil bitches who didn't deserve a second of your time, an ounce of your affection. They didn't deserve you." My anger seeped into my voice. Well, technically Lia didn't do anything yet, but it was inevitable for somebody like her. I just streamlined the process and let it happen before George got even more attached. I convinced myself that it wasn't my fault. It was all the world. My anger found something to lash at. Suddenly, all hell broke loose inside me. I felt so much rage.
Anger at the world for making Olivia so evil, so venemous, so cruel. Anger at the world for making Lia and George get together. Anger at the world for forcing my hand, for forcing me to attempt to orchestrate a seperation between Lia and George before George could get hurt and I would lose my chance at love, at life. Funnily enough, in the end, George got hurt anyway. I didn't want him to get hurt, but it needed to be done for the greater good.
Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good all the time. This was just another one of them. Fuck the guilt I had felt. This needed to happen.
"I'm sorry you have to go through this. It's not your fault that sometimes people are cruel. It's not your fault that sometimes people hurt other people for no reason at all. It's not your fault that sometimes people lie." I said softly, swallowing the anger rising in my throat. George sobbed once, quietly and shakily.
Silence lasted about a minute before George said something that made me so unbelievably angry I nearly punched the bedframe behind me with rage. All the pent up, suppressed infuriation needed to be let off, but I regained control immediately. I didn't want George to see me like that.
"But why me?" George's voice was so quiet and so frail, such a weak, feeble thing, such a fragile, breakable thing. My anger dissipated instantaneously. I thought for a second before steeling myself and saying the one thing I knew so abundantly, so blatantly.
The one belief, the one thought that never once left my head nor lost its painful impact. The one thing that could explain why the world stripped me of my emotions, why the world took George from me, why the world forced me to take things into my own hands and take George for myself when it could've been so much kinder.
It was the only thing I knew for certain. I parted my lips and said to George the words that explained my entire grim existence, my entire sad, hollow, life.
"Why you, George?" I mused, my tone light but cold. The tension in the air could've been cut by a knife.
George looked up at me, tears sparkling in his eyes. Half-dried tear streaks were down his face, strands of tearstained hair plastered to his skin. The anguished, broken hollowness in his eyes made me angry beyond fathom. This was all so, so, so unjust. I didn't want to have to hurt him like that. I didn't want to have to take matters into my own hands. It was so, so, so, so, unjust. None of this pain was warranted.
None.
"Because the fucking universe isn't fair."
I of all people was no stranger to unfairness.
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Author here; listen, so my writing was intentionally confusing in this chapter. I know it must have been very very unpleasant to read, but I took more creative liberties and tried to showcase and illustrate the internal conflict and confusion in Dream's psychopathic mind. It probably failed, but experimentation is important for growth. I might write a bit safer in the future.
This chapter took a hell of a long time, and I'm sorry about that. However, I was unhappy with earlier drafts and kept re-writing and reworking until it was decent in my eyes. Of course, nothing will ever be perfect to me, but I try to write something okay. Hopefully you guys found it alright. Thank you for reading my work, and I love you all so much <333 See you in the next one!
(Btw thank you so much for 700+ reads...what the- who is reading my writing? Regardless I love you guys <33)