Love at first Kidnapping

Dream

It was supposed to be a normal day.

Dream was halfway down the hallway toward his last class when someone slammed into him hard enough to nearly knock the air out of his lungs.

“Hey, Dream!”

He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

George stood in front of him, slightly breathless, eyes brighter than usual. There was something different about him today. Not his usual calm, mildly sarcastic self. He looked… excited.

And that alone made Dream’s heart start misbehaving.

“H-hey,” Dream replied, adjusting his backpack strap. “What’s going on?”

“So you know Sarah, right?”

The name made something tighten in his chest.

Sarah. Popular. Confident. Always surrounded by people. The girl George had been talking about for months.

“Yeah,” Dream said carefully.

“Well,” George grinned, running a hand through his hair, “she invited me to her birthday party.”

For a second, the hallway noise faded into the background.

That was huge. Sarah didn’t just invite anyone. And George liking her wasn’t exactly a secret.

“That’s amazing,” Dream managed, forcing a smile that felt steady enough.

George laughed nervously. “Yeah. It’s a plus one, though.”

Dream blinked.

“And I don’t really want to go alone,” George added, lowering his voice slightly. “So I was hoping you’d come with me.”

The world tilted.

He wanted him there.

Not because he liked him back. Not because this meant anything more than friendship.

Just because he didn’t want to be alone around his crush. Excitement and disappointment tangled painfully in Dream’s chest.

“You know my mom probably won’t let me,” Dream said, trying to sound casual. George’s expression fell just a little. “Come on. Just ask. Please? I’ll owe you.” Dream hated how easily that worked on him.

“I’ll try,” he sighed.

George’s smile returned instantly. “You’re the best."

And that was that. Dream would’ve agreed to just about anything if George looked at him like that.

When Dream got home, he found his mom in the kitchen, humming while she wiped down the counters.

Timing was everything.

“Hey, Mom." She smiled at him warmly. “Hey, sweetheart. How was school?” “Good,” he answered automatically. He hovered in the doorway, nerves slowly building.

“…Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?”

“There’s this birthday party. For a friend. I was wondering if I could go.”

She paused. “Whose party?”

“Sarah’s.”

“Will her parents be there?”

His throat tightened.

He didn’t know. And he suspected they wouldn’t be.

He hesitated.

That was enough.

His mom sighed softly. “Dream. If there won’t be adults there, you’re not going.” He stared at the floor. “Okay.” He knew better than to argue. She wasn’t strict for no reason. She just worried. But as he went to his room, disappointment sat heavy in his stomach.

His phone buzzed a few minutes later.

George: You coming?

George: Please?

Dream lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He pictured George standing awkwardly in a room full of people, trying to talk to Sarah without backup. He imagined him checking the door every few minutes.

He sat up.

This was a bad idea.

He knew it was.

But he also knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t go.

So he waited.

Waited until the house was quiet. Waited until his mom’s bedroom light turned off. Waited until everything felt still.

Then he opened his window.

The cold night air hit his face as he climbed down carefully and landed on the grass below. His heart pounded—not from fear yet, but from adrenalin. He checked the address George had sent him and started walking.

Twenty minutes later, excitement had turned into unease.

The streets grew quieter the farther he went. Streetlights flickered. Buildings felt taller, closer together.

His phone’s map glitched, spinning him in circles.

“I’m not lost,” he muttered to himself.

He turned down a narrow alley.

That’s when he heard it.

A loud crack split the air.

For half a second, his brain didn’t process it.

Then it did.

A gunshot.

His body froze.

Slowly, against every instinct screaming at him not to, he looked toward the sound.

Two figures stood near the far end of the alley.

One tall. Blond.

One slightly shorter. Dark hair.

And at their feet—

Someone lay on the ground.

Not moving.

Dream’s stomach dropped.

The dark-haired one held something in his hand.

A gun.

Panic flooded him instantly.

He turned and ran.

His footsteps echoed against brick walls as he sprinted back the way he came, lungs burning almost immediately. He didn’t look back.

He didn’t need to.

Footsteps followed.

“Someone’s running,” a voice muttered behind him.

“Split up.”

Dream’s pulse roared in his ears. He turned sharply at the end of the alley—

And slammed straight into someone.

He stumbled backward.

The blond one.

Up close, he looked calm. Too calm.

Dream tried to pivot the other direction—

A shadow dropped down in front of him.

The dark-haired one blocked the exit.

They had him cornered.

“I didn’t see anything,” Dream blurted out, breath shaking. “I swear, I didn’t—”

The blond one stepped closer. “Wrong place. Wrong time.”

Dream bolted anyway.

A hand grabbed his hoodie from behind, yanking him backward. He twisted, elbowing wildly, panic turning his movements frantic and uncoordinated.

“Hold him,” the blond muttered.

Strong arms locked around Dream’s wrists from behind. He thrashed, kicking backward, trying to break free.

A hand clamped over his mouth.

“Quiet.”

His breathing turned ragged. Tears blurred his vision. His heart felt like it might explode out of his chest.

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

The blond one stepped closer, voice low and steady.

“You shouldn’t have been here.”

Dream’s knees buckled as they lifted him off balance. His phone slipped from his hand and clattered onto the pavement.

He tried to scream again, but the sound was swallowed.

The alley spun.

The last thing he saw was the dim glow of a streetlight fading above him.

Then everything went dark.

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