Chapter Text
First day, new school. This should be interesting. Dream’s green eyes scanned the exterior of the building, searching. He was supposed to be met by a student to take him around for the day, although, he was fairly certain that they wouldn’t show. He found that your typical highschool student wasn't particularly enthused at the idea of doing a guided tour with the new kid.Just as he was about to turn and leave, Karl Jacobs appeared from nowhere, skipping in his step.
‘Hello!’ He chirped. ‘You’re Clay, right?’
‘You can call me Dream.’ he responded flatly.
‘Oh.’ Karl giggled nervously. ‘Okay!’ He led Dream into the school, oblivious to the eyes of the students watching them intensely. Dream had earned a reputation, of sorts, having been suspended from three schools prior to this one. He ignored the whispers that followed him like a shadow, as he could easily predict their nature. Several rumours had circulated the area as to why he was expelled from each school, as nobody ever seemed to know. Karl stopped outside a block of lockers, and he gestured to one on the top row. ‘Uh… This is yours.’ He mumbled, with a soft smile.
Dream did not return the gesture. ‘I have it from here, Jacobs.’ Karl took the opportunity to leave, and joined his friends who immediately drilled him with questions about the new kid. Dream heard them theorize about his expulsions, and grinned to himself. Sometimes notoriety isn’t a bad thing. He stuck up a couple things inside his locker, and deposited his books. Turning to leave, he noticed a girl stood behind him. Her hair was bubblegum pink, matching her eyeshadow. ‘Hi!’ She greeted him. ‘My name’s Niki.’
‘Okay.’ Responded Dream simply. He didn’t trust a single person in this school, not after his experience in the last one he went to. Niki kept trying to befriend him, however, so he grudgingly introduced himself.
‘Hello, Niki. My name is Clay, but everyone calls me Dream.’
‘Dream. I like that! I wish I had a nickname, it seems so cool.’ Niki responded, voice light and cheery. Dream let her talk at him until he reached his homeroom, a small, blue carpeted room with about twenty desks arranged in basic formation. Once inside, Niki introduced him to all her friends. Wilbur, Fundy, and Minx were the ones he noted. He smiled tightly, as was courteous, but seated himself far over on the other side of the room.
About ten minutes later, a group of four strutted in late, clearly the sort of student that presumed themselves infinitely better than anyone else.
'Let me guess,' Dream murmured to himself. 'All four of you are called Chad.'
‘Nick, Alex, Karl, George, you’re late.’ Said the teacher sternly from the front of the room. Karl, the one he had met earlier, apologised charmingly. Dream felt certain that he was a firm favourite of the faculty, with a simpering smile such as that. The first three who walked in didn’t interest Dream, but the last one caught his eye.
He was short, with a fair complexion. His hair was dark, but refracted the light, splitting it into hundreds of rainbows. He wore basic clothing, a large hoodie and a pair of jeans, yet Dream couldn’t help feeling he made everyone else in the room look rather bland. He sat gracefully next to Dream, though ignored him, and talked to the kid Alex, who he called Quackity. Dream felt the creeping sense of jealousy flush his cheeks, and self consciously patted down his hair. The rest of homeroom was uneventful, the same ritual he was accustomed to in all his other schools. He tuned into the conversation between Quackity and George, and noticed that George spoke with an accent, soft and british. When the bell rang, he turned to leave until a voice rang out behind him.
‘My name’s George. I haven’t seen you before, are you new?’
‘Yeah, I am.’ Dream said. Brown eyes like marbles peered at him from underneath long lashes as George smiled. ‘That’s cool.’ He walked away with his friends, leaving Dream alone at the back of the classroom. The rest of the day passed by him in mere moments, brief introductions and forced smiles mingled with the scrutiny and judgement from his classmates who had heard the stories about his past.
Later that night, he found George on every social media platform he could, stalking his past photos and tagged images. There was a bitter taste in his mouth every time this ‘Quackity’ was featured, which was often. Quackity's face smirked at him from behind the screen, feeding a vengeance Dream had yet to acknowledge. He noted the username of George’s accounts, and spent the rest of the night with images of him displayed in his sleeping mind, along with a melody he would soon forget.