𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒫𝒪𝒱

I finish checking George out and lean against the hallway wall, scrolling through my phone. Canceling a meeting fifteen minutes before it's scheduled to start isn't exactly smart when Leia's involved. But I have full faith that she can manage without me. Footsteps pad towards me and I look up, my eyes flickering down to survey his outfit.

"Let's go," I tell him, clearing my throat and gesturing for him to follow.

He waves goodbye to his nurse and she smiles back as we exit, walking across the road to the parking lot. "You mind if we stop by my apartment? I wanna change."

"Sure, but where are we going?" He asks impatiently. We approach my car and I pull out my keys, ignoring him completely.

"That's for me to know." I say finally, as he climbs into the passenger seat. "Relax, I'm not kidnapping you."

"You know, I wasn't even concerned about that. Until now." He tells me blankly. I watch as he looks around the car, feeling the soft black leather and inspecting the marbled dashboard. "It smells awful in here."

"One, you're lying."  I start up the engine, shifting the gear out of park. "Two, this is genuine leather. So appreciate it."

"I can't believe you have stars on your ceiling."

"They're LEDs."

"No shit."

The hospital quickly leaves view as we descend into Orlando traffic. The song of crickets fills the space between the quiet radio station that was playing. I open our windows and George happily sticks his face out, exhaling into the warm wind. I don't blame him, he's been stuck breathing in disinfectant for two days. So have I, funnily enough.

"You know, I was wondering. Which weapon would you choose? Python or C++?" He grins with a cheeky smile.

I feel my jaw drop. "How the hell do you know about that?" I flit my gaze to him for a second before focusing back on the road. "I could have sworn you were knocked out,"

He giggles. "I can't believe the next big tech giant has nerdy computer science t-shirts that were probably made for seven year olds."

"I will kick you out of this car." I grumble.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, I loosen the black silk tie around my neck. Pulling it off completely, I ruffle the collar of my shirt before tossing it onto the back seat. "What?" I ask, catching him watching.

"Hm?" He hums, looking away. He looks down at his phone, a message lighting up the screen.I look on as happiness seems to crawl up his skin. Beaming, He turns around, face bright pink. "Do you think you can drop me off at the Violet Lounge by eight?" George asks, turning to me.

"The bar?" I ask. He nods. "Yeah sure. Not sure if it's a good idea for you to be drinking though."

His fingers unconsciously fiddle with the bandage. "You think this is an okay outfit for a date?" He asks mindlessly. I raise an eyebrow and he backtracks. "No! I mean, not–I've got a date...at eight. So I was asking,"

"Relax George. You look fine." I chuckle. "Who's the lucky girl on George-watching duty?"

He sticks his middle finger out, huffing. "It's a guy."

"Lucky guy then," I correct, mildly surprised. I turn into the arc in front of my huge apartment building that really looks more like a hotel than anything else. Another reason why I wanted a change of scenery. I step out of the car and he follows, watching as I toss my keys to the valet driver before placing a fifty dollar bill on my seat.

"You live here?" He breathes, craning his neck to see the full extent of the building.

"Not for long. New apartment, remember?" I start walking toward the revolving doors and he hurries after me. The lobby is beautiful with soft lighting and pleasant jazz filling the space. I wave at the woman at the reception desk who smiles back, ear pressed against her phone. I scan my room key and penthouse flashes on the panel, shooting us upward.

"Do you live by yourself? Or do you have roommates?" He questions.

"Ah, both." He looks at me questioningly. "Sapnap crashes here most days. Bastard lives rent-free." I explain. He chuckles, a bright smile gracing his dimpled cheeks.

We step out of the elevator, right into the middle of my living room. My whole apartment is very open, letting the dying rays of sunlight from the windows catch everything in a golden glow.

"What is it with you and green?" He comments, taking it all in. "You're like obsessed."

I guess I've got a lot of plants around, small ones on the window sills and the large money plant vines winding around the walls. All the paintings I own do seem to have a color in common and the knickknacks on my shelves also share the color scheme.

"Well, what's with you and shit-tasting coffee?" I fire back after a beat of silence. He scoffs and I lead him into the room.

I can see remnants of Sapnap's presence spread everywhere. Mostly from the basketball shorts thrown on the couch and dirty dishes on the table. The two shelves of our vinyl records gleaming in the light seem to catch George's eye and he steps over Sapnap's hoodie on the floor to get over to them.

"Don't break anything, I'll be back." I watch him touch the covers of Sapnap's music, reading the titles with interest.

"I'm not a child." He complains behind me as I turn on my heel.

I walk swiftly into my bedroom and shut the door, throwing on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt, hiking the sleeves up so the watch on my wrist can still be seen. I toss my unused suit into my closet; I'll probably find it for tomorrow. Uninterestedly ruffling my hair alive, I'm pleased that it doesn't look like I've been sitting in an uncomfortable fake leather chair for two days.

I take a moment to text Leia another apology, asking for updates. She doesn't reply right away so I figure the meeting is still going on. Pocketing my phone, I head out the door and into the hall, hopping on a foot for a second to hike up my sock.

I step back into the living room, finding George still entranced with my music. Sapnap has agreed, if anything, to at least keep our music shelves clean and organized. Each one has its own genre. The top has mostly pop music, with a few Soul and R&B songs weaved in between. The bottom is completely stuffed with rap and hip hop. I bet George doesn't have to guess which shelf belongs to who, having met Sapnap.

"That's a good one." I hum and he looks over his shoulder.

"The Righteous Brothers huh?" He asks, slotting it carefully back in its place. "My mum used to listen to them."

"Your mom's got good taste. Come on, we're gonna be late."  Shouldering past him to pick up the corded phone on my lamp table, I ask them to get my car ready. Then, I usher him through the room, making sure I've got my wallet.

"Late to what?" He asks yet again as we step into the elevator, shooting down toward the lobby. God he's so impatient.

"Wonderland to have tea with a talking bunny." I step out of the elevator and George follows behind me with an offended scoff.

"Can I meet the Queen of Hearts? I'm a big fan." He deadpans.

"Depends. Do you like your head?" I shoot him a sarcastic smile and he rolls his eyes. I thank the valet driver and step into the driver's seat, waiting until George is buckled up before revving the engine. We shoot around the arc and into the road, speeding along before slowing down on the main road.

"Text Wilbur that you're with me so he doesn't freak out." I instruct and he snaps his fingers, quickly sending a text into what looks like a group chat.

"You know, maybe I shouldn't go." He contemplates, reading their replies. "I mean you're right. I shouldn't be drinking alcohol after busting my head open."

"Look, it may be in a bar, but you don't have to drink. And judging by your idiotic smile when he texted, I doubt he'll make you do anything." He smiles that stupid grin again and I let out a short laugh. "Plus, you've had a bad week. Go and chill for a bit."

"I thought that's what we're going to do now?" He asks casually.

"I'm not exactly sure what you do for fun." I shrug, taking a left at the red brick building like usual. "I promised you a break from everything, that's all."

He stays silent after that, grinning at the side of my face before looking down at his hands. My fingers curl tightly around the wheel when I see a black car following us for a bit, but they end up turning away after a few minutes. Guess we're lucky today.

I parked on the side of the road, making sure that all my windows were closed. George joins me on my side of the car and we walk toward the entrance of the grey-painted building, swinging open the large double doors.

"Kristin's Soup Kitchen?" He reads outloud, looking at me questiongly.

"Give it a chance." I smile. He nods, walking in front of me. The familiar smell of warm tomato soup and cheesy pasta hits out noses and George looks around, eyes crinkling in delight.

There's a lot of people today, many of whom I recognize. Women sit at tables with their children, worn faces turned into bright smiles as they laugh with each other. Older men have crowded around their own table, shouting out as they throw UNO cards down in defeat.

"Dream!" Taylor, the girl I met a few weeks back, runs away from her mother and hugs my knees. I pick her up and spin her around, laughing at her giggles. "Where's Sapnap? Who's this?"

"Hello, I'm George." He introduces himself, a fond smile plastered across his face.

She tilts her head in interest. "You've got a funny voice. What's it called Dream?"

"An accent. He's from the UK." I kneel down so I can talk to her face to face and she grabs my nose, sticking her tongue out with a laugh at my scrunched up expression. I look up at George who's staring at me with the most dumbfounded expression. "So how's the food today? Is there macaroni or should I leave?"

"There is! It's a yummy day today." She snorts and lets go, looking up at George. He immediately kneels down next to me and Taylor squints at his face. "Dream, he looks like the prince from my book! Come on George, I'll show you!"

George looks at me for help and I raise my hands uselessly as he's dragged over to her glittery red backpack. She rummages through it as I walk over, pulling out a worn fairytale book and flipping through the pages. She points at the fair-skinned prince with pretty brown hair and eyes, shoving the book into George's hands.

"It does look like me, you're right." George praises and she beams.

"So, you coming to help in the kitchen or what? George and I are going to go over there and we could use Princess Taylor's help," I sing-song teasingly. She wrinkles her nose.

"Nuh uh. It's all hot 'n sweaty in there. Plus, princes and princesses don't hafta work. We have servants. George should stay with me while you do all the hard work." She suggests cheekily.

"You're the servant in this scenario, Dream." George says helpfully.

I roll my eyes at him. "No, you and George are gonna go help while I sell all your dolls." She squawks as I reach my hand out, quickly moving her backpack away before I can grab it.

"I'll tell Kristin you're bullying me." She warns and I pale.

"Yeah, don't do that you little menace. She'll give me dish-washing duty." I grimace. That's never fun. "Come on George. We'll come back later 'k Taylor?"

"Okay okay. I hafta eat my gross vegetables anyway. Mom's gonna be mad if I don't." She mumbles unhappily, racing back to her table and hopping up on her chair.

I take George's wrist, pulling him to the kitchen. He doesn't complain, watching as I put on an apron and grab a smaller one for him. As he's tying his, a familiar woman comes through the swinging kitchen doors with tired eyes and a radiant smile.

"Ah, Dream. Nice of you to stop by in the middle of everything with your company and all–Ah! And this is?" Kristin trails off. I introduce him and George smiles politely. She puts down the large trays of steaming food to shake his hand.

They make small talk for a few minutes before Kristin claps as a wave of people come in, not hesitating for even a second before putting us both to work alongside the other volunteers. We spoon soup into bowls and cut sandwiches, making conversation with the people in line as we place a gloop of steaming hot macaroni with stringy gold cheese on each plate that fills the room with its heavenly aroma.

George's smile doesn't leave his face as he works without complaint, even going back into the kitchen to help Kristen make a new batch of sandwiches as we were running low. He comes back out, cheeks flushed with heat, sentences running together with laughter.

"Dream, Dream. You won't believe–we were making sandwiches right? And this dude like, goes to wash one of the plates and he opens the tap and-and it doesn't work right? So he points it toward himself to try and fix it and gets fucking sprayed instantly." He cackles, holding his stomach and doubling over, holding on to my arm for support.

A moment later, that same dude walks out grumbling, looking like he just stepped out of a shower. Me and George both keel over, wheezing at this random guy that's glaring daggers at both of us, a grin finally tugging at his lips as he shakes his head in defeat.

"I haven't seen him around before. Is he new?" Kristen murmurs, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. I grin down at her. We both look back at George, who was at the dessert table, talking with an elderly man over a slice of hearty fruit cake.

"No, he's not one of us. He's normal." I chuckle, laughing at how dumb that sounded. Kristen giggles, the elegant silver wedding band on her ring finger catching in the warm lighting.

"Paparazzi have calmed down these past few days, I think it'll be fine." She assures. I send her a weak smile, it dropping quickly off my face as she turns around.

Guilt crashes into my stomach in a single swoop. But before I can think about it further, George appears by my side, upturned lips and smiling eyes dragging me over to meet the person who was responsible.

After the dinner rush slows down, Kristin pats us both on the back, telling us to go have fun. We slip off our aprons and immediately get pulled into a new game of UNO that's just started. George wins two games in a row and everyone is just convinced he's cheating.

"I swear I'm not! I'm not!" He giggles as he places his final card down, claiming his third victory.

"Get this boy outta here ey?" One of the men says, clapping George on the back. "He's got too much damn luck."

"I wouldn't say that." I mumble next to him and he kicks my shin under the table.

The gentlemen ended up throwing us out for being too lucky, even though it was just George. Luckily, Taylor finished her green beans and dragged us over to play Kingdom with her. She played the princess and George the prince, leaving me to be the knight of course. George and I fight a bunch of monsters together, and he gets all the credit to my disdain.

"I guess you were an alright knight Dream. But I defeated the dragon and saved the princess so I get all the clout right Taylor?" He asks, sticking his tongue out as he focuses on braiding Taylor's fiery copper hair. She nods, grinning back at him.

"Come on. Gimme a little credit." I whine.

"Okay okay. I guess you did beat a few monsters so Prince George could get to the dragon." She admits, giggling as I pinch her cheek.

"Yeah, I suppose." George sighs, giving in. I chuckle, glancing at my watch.

"Crap, we need to leave if you don't want to be late to your date." I stand, stretching out my legs. He stays on the floor with Taylor, frowning as she lights up.

"You have a DATE?!" She yells, George quickly quieting her down. "Is she pretty? I bet she's so pretty! Dream, have you seen her? What does she look like?!"

I leave George to tell her but he simply shrugs. "She's really pretty. She's got curly black hair and nice eyes, and she's really kind to me."

"Okay okay! You have to go now and then come back and tell me about it, okay Prince George?" She demands, tugging him up.

"Alright alright." He chuckles, catching her as she leaps onto him, squeezing him in a tight hug.

"He's my new favorite." Taylor tells me, giving me a hug nonetheless. I watch George pump a victory fist in the air, and I direct a scowl at him behind her back.

"You little menace." I wrinkle my nose at her and she grins.

The sun is well below the horizon as we head back to my car, enjoying the frigid wind against our warm skin. I go to break the pleasant silence a few times but end up deciding against it, instead glancing at George every once in a while, waiting for him to speak.

"That was really nice." He whispers finally, face illuminated by the blue light emitting from the dashboard.

"I'm glad you liked it." I swipe the hair out of my eyes, eyes primed on the road. "But I think you're going to have to come back with me next time. Taylor's going to throw a fit if she doesn't hear about your date with the super pretty girl."

He flashes a cheery smile. "Send me a text the next time you go. I'd like to play Kingdom again."

"I can't believe she made me a knight. I'm always the prince and she grabs some poor dude to be the knight or servant." I complain. "And I don't have your number."

George looks at me for permission before grabbing my phone out of the cup holder, holding it up. I put my password in and he makes a contact for himself. I take my phone glancing at the contact name "Prince George <3" and I roll my eyes.

He then puts my number into his phone, reading out loud "Servant Dream :)" as he typed it in. He then completely ignores me as I object. I was a knight, not a servant. My plight falls on deaf ears.

Vivid violet light shines from the bar's brightly-lettered sign, an outlier in the street of blinding white and yellow. I pull up near the entrance, glancing at George who looked really nervous all of a sudden, knee bouncing up and down on the floor with soft thumps.

"Is he here yet?" I ask, trying not to laugh at his change of demeanor.

"Yeah he is." He murmurs, hand still not on the car door.

I sigh, turning in my seat. "Just be yourself and all that shit. If he does something dumb, you can call me." I backtrack quickly. "Or–or Wilbur! Or um, Quackity?–the point is that it'll be fine."

He stares at me for a second before bursting out laughing and I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest with a pout. "Thanks Dream." He giggles, softening his expression and wiping the nonexistent tears from his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." I chuckle, sending him a smile. "Go, I'm tired."

"I'll make sure that you get to try our new dragonfruit smoothie before it's on the menu as a thank you." He opens the door, stepping out.

"Can I get a signed contract?" I ask seriously.

"Nope, goodnight!" He sings songs, closing the door and waving exuberantly at me.

"Oh George?" I call before he turns to go inside.

"What?"

"Next time, just bump into me so I can actually catch you. Not a fucking light while I'm a mile away. Deal?"

He sputters and I step on the gas, laughing as his protests behind me fade.

//

volunteering at my city's soup kitchen is the best part of my week istg