George's head is spinning and his body is shaking uncontrollably. He feels sick, stomach clenching uncomfortably. He stumbles backwards, knowing people are staring, watching him. Katelyn is yelling at him, saying something teasingly but his ears isn't functioning correctly to digest her sentence, words jumbling in his brain. He really didn't want to see anyone right now or to be seen by anyone. So he turned around and ran, up the closest stairs, two at a time, ignoring people's quizzical looks, and into the nearest empty classroom. The art room.

He shuts the door and locks it, sliding down onto the floor, trying to calm his ragged breathes. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, closing his eyes to stop the tears running down his face. He wipes his cheeks harshly, cursing himself for being this vulnerable.

He just didn't want to hurt anymore.

George can hear the distant voices of people calling his name but doesn't move, trying to feel invisible. He squeezes his eye tight, desperately wanting the world to swallow him right that moment. The voices pass his room several times but none even bother to check here. And George can't help but feel worse.

George was not happy, that was evident. His brain is foggy with the huge amount of thoughts screaming in his head. He couldn't just fake a smile. It wasn't that easy.

There's a quiet knock on the door followed by a hushed voice. 'George... can you let me in?'

For a moment, George just sits there, hoping they'd go away. He didn't hear their footsteps so he stands up, wiping his face again, before unlocking the door. Zelkam comes in and closes the door gently behind him. He stands their for a moment, a small, nervous smile directed at the British boy, which almost makes him feel worse.

'Hey...'

'Hey.'

They stand in an awkward silence. These two weren't as close despite being in the same friend group. 

'Sapnap didn't really tell me why you ran off,' Zelkam says quietly. 'What's up?'

George chuckles but there isn't any emotion in it. He holds up the crumbled sticky note. 'I got asked out to prom.'

Zelkam sits on the desk beside George, concern. 'As someone who got asked out to prom, I don't think I'd cry over it. What's up?'

'I mean, you did get asked out with an onion ring.' This draws out a chuckle, relieving the tension a little. George bites his lip. 'I'm sorry... I'm just not comfortable talking about it.'

The other nods understandingly. 'It's okay. I'll just wait with you here until Dream comes, okay? I texted him when I found you so he should be here any second now.'

'Thanks...'

They sit in silence for another moment. The noise outside thins out to near nothingness before there's a few seconds of hushed bickering and Dream enters. George doesn't react, staring at his feet as he kicks his legs. Zelkam, on the other hand, stands up, not wanting to be a third wheel to their friendship.

'Uhm... I'll leave you to it.'

Zelkam swiftly exits and Dream looks at his best friend. 

'You're bleeding,' Dream states dumbly, seeing the little blotch of red.

'It's nothing, don't worry,' George says slowly. Dream goes to sit on the space beside him on the desk. They sit there, waiting for the other to speak.

'She asked me out with a rose too,' George finally pipes up, slicing the silence. Dream doesn't say anything, so he continues.

'Prom hasn't been the same since last year. It was so weird. I thought I liked her, Dream. She was so... nice. The purest girl of the year. We danced all night, we laughed, we talked- I couldn't look away. She was so... enchanting. But then her girlfriend crashed the prom when we were dancing. Turned out she cheated on me. Tried hooking up with guys to deny the fact she was... you know... gay. She moved schools after that, to her girlfriend's school.' George looks at his scuffed trainers, fascinated with the white laces and some grass stuck to the side. 'Prom has some bad memories...'

Dream puts a hand on George's arm comfortingly. 'George, you gotta let it go. It was a year ago. I totally understand why you're sad but you can't mope around it forever. You gotta... you gotta combat the bad with the good. Outweigh it! We don't need bad!' Dream retracts his statement slightly. 'Except Darryl. He's a good muffin.'

George hums, unsure. Dream tilts his head, searching for something else to say.

'Uhm, you dropped this. At your locker.'

He looks up and sees the white jewelry box in Dream's hand. He immediately looks away, cheeks pink.

'I don't know if I wanna open it,' he mutters truthfully.

'I think you should.'

Finally, George's watery honey-brown eyes meets Dream's emerald orbs.

'Why should I?'

'Oh, come on, George. It's a jewelry box and the box looks expensive. Whatever is inside must be fancy and whoever is asking you out to prom is spending money on you. So, I guess... it isn't a joke.'

The British boy is confused. 'And so...?'

Dream sighs. 'Don't you wanna know who it is?'

'I do! But... I can't go to prom. It's too hard for me.'

Then, five words come out of Dream's mouth that shakes George to the core.

'Then I won't go either.'

George is stunned, frozen. He shakes himself back into his senses, nearly yelling at his closest friend. 'What?!' George exclaims, taken aback. 'But, you've been dying to go to prom since before you even stepped into high school. You've- you've been talking about it for months. You literally begged me and Bad to let you into the prom committee which was specifically for those in the student council. And, now, you're just not going?!'

All Dream does is shrug. 

George shrinks into himself. 'And because of me?' He feels more and more of a burden. 

'Woah, hey now, don't blame yourself. I wouldn't want to go to prom knowing my best friend was alone at home.'

'But-'

'No buts. You can't change my mind.'

George furrows his eyebrows. 'Why are you so stubborn?'

Dream scoffs. 'Coming from you. No matter how much I begged you to come to prom, your answer was always 'no'. So, therefore, my answer is noooo. N-O. No. I'm staying by your side.' He stands up and crouches slightly, shifting his height so he could be facing eye-to-eye with George. He puts his hands on his friend's arms, making George meet his gaze. They hold eye contact for a moment, waiting for the next.

'Best friends stick together.'

George smiles and a tear falls from his eye. 'You're so stupid.'

'It's a personality trait.'

The lighthearted moment is gone as quickly as it arrives. Dream slowly picks up the white jewelry box from where he previously sat. George follows his movements with his eyes, quiet, fidgeting with his fingers. Dream notices how nervous he is and grins softly, kneeling on one knee, holding up the box to George with a sparkle in his eyes. The British man's heart suddenly pounds against his chest, painful but soothing. It was a new feeling, different. But he brushes it off, numbly taking the small box in his friend's hand. Dream doesn't move,  just watching, silent.

With shaking hands, he slowly opens the lid of the box before immediately snapping it shut, sucking in a breath. Dream, despite aching to see George open it, waits uncomplaining, knowing that he should be patient. 

Once more, George lifts the the lid at a snail's pace and he gasps as the light shines on a small jewel. He fumbles, using his index and middle fingers to pluck up the silver chain, the necklace encased in green velvet, hugging it lovingly. He lifts it up and stares at the small, gorgeous gem pendant. A kaleidoscope of blues illuminates his lap as the sunrays meet its surface, making George's brown eyes glitter with colour. A smile tugs at his lips and another tear streams down his face.

'What is it?' Dream says in hushed tones.

'A necklace,' George replies, pushing the water off of his face. 'It's beautiful.'

He picks up the folded square at the bottom and already knows what it is because of it's neon colour. He unfolds it, equally as slowly as he opened the box. He reads it. He reads it again. And puts it back in the box with the necklace.

'What did it say?' Dream says softly, reminding George of his presence.

George shakes his head and suddenly, the door swings open.  The two stumble to their feet, George quickly wiping his face rid of tears as Mr Mack bundles in, carrying a small stack of cardboard boxes. He spins around to put the boxes on his desk when he spots the two students, freezing.

'Oh, hi, boys. Aren't you two supposed to be in class?'

'Yes, sir, but me and George had to talk about something important.'

Mr Mack nods, searching George's face. He goes slightly pink under his gaze, passing the small, white item in his hand left to right. 

'Well, I'm not the strictest of teachers but if you don't want to head back to class, you two are free to help me sort through these boxes from the attic. Gotta do some last minute preparations for prom.'

'No, sir, we're just on our way, but thank you for the offer.'

Dream  coolly walks to the door and George follows, muttering a simple 'Bye, sir' to the teacher. He closes the door behind him and Dream waits for him to be by his side. They begin walking to class, wordlessly.

'I'm going.'

Dream frowns, confused. 'What?'

'To the prom.'

Chapter 10: 1,620

Total words: 10,785