Philocaly | THE SEQUEL

Arrays of sunlight caused the road to look dry and yellow. Blasting music played as a distraction, but Dream knew nothing could really distract him from what he was always thinking.

It was better now though, since his best friend was sitting right beside him while his car zoomed down the busy street.

"Why won't Karl answer me.." Sapnap complained for the third time that same car ride.

Dream glared, facing forward the whole time.

"I kept on telling you he's filming with Mr. Beast today and won't be online at all."

"At all?"

"At all." Dream clarified.

Sapnap pretended to pout like a child, crossing his arms and puckering up his lips.

"And don't spam his phone either. You know what happened last time you did that."

Dream finally pulled into the driveway, Sapnap swinging the door open before the car even came to a complete stop.

"Idiot." Dream muttered under his breath, ripping the key out and shoving it in his back pocket.

Sapnap knew Dream lived alone, yet pounded on the door like someone would answer. "Patches, I'm back!" He cheered.

Dream decided to take his sweet time to climb out of the car and unlock the trunk to reveal Sapnaps luggage.

"Nick, wait a damn minute!" Dream sneered back open and popped the trunk up.

Sapnap still wouldn't come back to the car, so Dream accepted it and trotted up to the front door to unlock. As soon as the keys were placed into knob, Sapnap desperately tried to push it open.

"God damnit, will you stop that?"

The brunette crossed his arms and took a step back to give Dream space for fully unlocking the door.

"Your hat looks weird by the way," Dream then added to his previous sentence and opened the door with a smile.

Sapnap ran in past him, ignoring Dreams tease about his hat. "Hell yeah!" He shouted, sprinting into the guest room where he stayed last time.

"Home sweet home," Dream whispered for only himself to hear.

He then scanned through the kitchen for Patches, and she was no where to be found. Not anywhere downstairs, at least.

Dream walked slowly upstairs calling for her name in a high pitched tone. She came sprinting out of the bedroom beside his own.

The bedroom George would be staying in again.

Patches curiously sniffed something in the corner of the hallway, but Dream was not at all paying attention.

He slowly approached the cracked door, hesitating for a moment.

One hand stopped at the doorknob, and pushed it open to reveal the perfectly cleaned and tidy room. Waves of deja vu hit Dream like a bus.

A conversation he had shared with the boy; a terrible conversation. Talking about them not being able to be together.

Talking about how it wouldn't work.

George would leave this same room almost every night to sleep beside Dream in Dreams bed, being able to find warmth with him.

How could Dream be so dense to not realize George shared his own exact feelings? If they knew about each other's feelings earlier, they'd have more time to talk about it.