Begonias

Chapter Six|Moving Out

"We should call it the dream house."

George made the comment offhandedly right after he and George had ended their streams. Dream was shocked into silence.

"Wh.. What?"

"The Dream House. The house we're all moving into within the month??"

Dream promptly wheezed, laughing hard as he listened to his friend's ignorance. George looked very confused, in that sort of happy way, kinda like he wanted to know what was so funny so he could laugh too.

"We are not going to call it that! Oh my god, fuckin Barbie's Dream House lookin-" Dream was cut off by his own laughing. George looked lost.

"Is this some sort of American thing I'm too British to understand??"

Dream only laughed harder.

---

Today was the day. Today was the day he got all his things unloaded into the moving truck so it could be moved into the new house.

If Dream was being honest, most of his things could probably fit into his car if he really tried. What he was most worried about was his monitors, his TV, those fragile things that he wouldn't risk putting into the trunk of his car.

The drivers of the moving company were going to get paid extra to drive slower so that his things wouldn't get thrashed. He'd probably be able to sue if one of his monitors was broken.

It was three am when he got up to load the things into the truck so that the people there could get going on driving, and they would get there at nine, eight in that time zone, which meant they would be going on a hell of a trip.

But then again, he would be too. He was going to pack all of his things up and leave in an hour or so, so he would get there at eight, seven in that time zone. It was gonna be a really tiring drive, but he wanted to take his car and not have to pay someone else to bring it.

Dream begrudgingly started bringing boxes out to the elevator of his apartment building, using the rolling thing that the moving truck came with. It would be about an hour until he was finished, so he cracked his knuckles and prepared for a massive headache.

---

Dream flopped onto the floor of his empty apartment, groaning. Everything was gone, and now he had fifteen minutes to get ready to drive for fourteen and a half hours. His breathing was labored and his hair was drenched in sweat, his head pounding.

He really wasn't prepared for today. With all his recent worries about literally dying, Dream didn't have much time to think about the move in, or how much heavy lifting it would entail, or how long he'd be driving, how many piss stops he'd have to make, ya know, the usual travel concerns.

His breathing suddenly caught, and dream coughed into his hand, using his off-hand to grab the washcloth in his pocket for him to wipe it off and continue to cough into.

Recently, he'd been coughing up tiny, shriveled up leaves. He guessed that the plant learned it didn't need them or something, so as they were killing them off, Dream was coughing them up. Dream washed off the cloth for the last time before he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and wishing he had kept pain killers in his bag.

---

It was halfway through the drive, and dream was listening to music when he got a phone call.

Hope poked at his chest that it was George, but he checked the name, and it was Sapnap. Of course it was, it was five am for George. Dream grumbled under his breath as he answered the call.

"Hey, Sapnap. How's it going?" Dream said, making sure his eyes were on the road.

"How many times have I told you to call me nick when we talk outside of YouTube?" Sapna- Nick, asked, and Dream sighed.

"Old habits die hard, I guess." But as true as this was, this wasn't why Dream called everyone their YouTube names. In a way, the whole moving in thing hadn't caught up with him yet.

Everyone but him seems more comfortable when someone calls them by their real names when they chat outside of videos, but for Dream, him calling people their game names gave him a shield. A sort of barrier for his heart, in a way. It made it feel like they couldn't tear him apart on a whim if they wanted to.

"Yeah yeah, whatever Dream." Sapnap knew Dream didn't like being called clay, on YouTube or otherwise, and he respected it. Everyone else did too. It made Dream chuckle a bit because of how Sapnap said it.

"So, if it isn't obvious, I'm on my way now." Dream said, and with that Sapnap turned on his camera for Dream to sneak some glances away from the road to see his boxes in his respective room.

For some reason, they had all chose rooms before actually saying they were gonna buy the house. It was pretty late for all of them, around three am for him and Sapnap, when Dream had proposed the idea. And he had no idea it would end up going so far.

Here he was, last summer, chuckling with his friends about the mere possibility of moving in together, saying he called the master bedroom because he had the most subscribers.

Here he was now, driving to the house of his fucking dreams, from his best friends living in it to his crush living in it.

Dream felt a sensation at the back of his throat. He immediately left the call, coughing violently as he pulled over, using one hand to type 'crappy connection, call you later' as he opened the door of his car, getting out and coughing blood and petals on the side of the road. And deep down inside, he was fucking terrified.

Because he knew it would only get worse from here.