The darkness feels like a relief, even if small. Ripples of pain shoot through his skull, and suddenly he feels like he shouldn’t move a muscle. “Um,” Dream says, squinting at his screen. “What are you doing?” George asks, annoyed. His brain cells are dying one by one, painfully, leaving his head empty and slow. Dream tries to remember what they were talking about before. George sounds like he’s been waiting for him to answer for a while now. More aware of the hours passing and more aware of taking care of himself throughout it. It happens sometimes, this sleeplessness, but usually he’s more aware of it. This is a long time to be awake, even for him. Suddenly, the screen in front of him gets brighter, the hum of his setup louder. He remembers being famished since he had already been up the previous night editing for a new sponsored video.
He knows he ate when he got the food from his mom, but that had apparently been almost 20 hours ago. Did he take a nap at some point? He doesn’t recall. It says three AM, and Dream can feel his brain working overtime trying to calculate how that could be true. So that had been maybe around ten hours ago – or was it fifteen? All he knows, that had been this morning, right after his mom visited him and Sapnap, bringing them food for the day.ĭream drops his hands and checks the time in the corner of his screen. Dream had finished his string of meetings a couple hours earlier, and his visit to Foolish’s stream a few hours before that. They have been messing around on their testing server for a while, putting on the silliest plugins one after another, playing around and talking about whatever. There’s a dull ache that has been building up behind his eyes for a while now, and he rubs at them, stifling a yawn.
Dream sits back in his chair, letting his Minecraft character go still on the screen, hands going up to press against his face.
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