As the sun rose the day after their run in at the bar, George rushed to quiet the alarm his phone was sounding. The loud chiming from the device did nothing but add to the intense headache the brown eyed boy suffered. George sat on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes before standing and moving to the coffee pot.

As it happens, clay was already stood at the dirty bean juice maker. The tall beheaded man poured two cups of the yummy liquid before turning and giving one to the newly awoken George. "Hey man. How's the headache?" Clay offered a caring smile to him.

"Terrible, that's how. You go drink then get your face smashed in by some idiot. See how you feel the next day." George didn't bother adding sugar or milk to flavor his glack juice before beginning to down it.

With a dismissive shrug, Clay looked to his roommate. "I think i'll pass." He leaned back against the counter before speaking again. "What do you remember about last night?" The answer that he had hoped for ran along the lines of, 'not much' or 'nothing'. What he got instead was far from it.

"Truthfully? Everything." George sighed deeply before looking towards his roommate. "How do you personally know Schlatt? And why does he think you're gonna fight Technoblade? Like the Technoblade! Clay, I know you can fight, I do. But I didn't hear about some new guy fighting The Blade." George plopped down on his bed once more.

The green eyed man rubbed his face, contemplating what to say next. This wasn't how he'd imagined telling his friend what he did as a profession. Especially not with the obvious doubt the other had for him. "Look, it, it's complicated."

"Lucky for you, I have nothing but time."

Shit, Clay thought. "Okay, well. Look, Schlatt wasn't lying. I am fighting Techno. But, not as some new guy." How was he supposed to say this without just, blurting it out? "Do you know Dream? Well, I, I'm him." The answer is, you don't.

"Yeah right." The obvious disbelief in George's voice hurt a little as Clay looked at him. The brown eyed man stood with his empty coffee cup. "Look, come up with a better lie before I come back. I gotta wee." He set the cup beside his bed before retreating to the bathroom.

Clay was more than upset as he left George to relieve himself. His friend didn't believe a word that had just come from his mouth, and now he was hell bent on proving that he was telling the truth. By the time George had come back, he had made his decision.

Now dressed, Clay handed George an outfit to wear as well. "Get dressed. I want to show you something." Clay pulled his shoes on and gathered his keys while George did as he was told. Once both were dressed and ready to leave, Clay led the sobering man out of the dorm and outside.

After ten minutes of walking, and telling George they were indeed 'almost there', Clay stopped in front of the garage building. "You made me go outside and move to visit a garage?" George asked cynically. Clay smacked his friend lightly.

"No. Well, yes. But I want to show you what's in the garage dumbass." He unlocked and lifted the door to reveal the motorcycle he rode on the night he met with his father. "Don't touch anything though. Got it?" He said that just in time. George had an outstretched hand to grab a trophy that sat just inside the door on a long table. It was one among several, most were combat related while others were in weaponry and track.

"Maybe start with that next time then. What is this place anyways?" George looked around the smallish garage to see original posters from every battle Dream was in. He could see the mysterious wardrobe in the back corner, the familiar motorcycle and a long table he was already acquainted with.

"I already gave you an answer. You just don't believe me. All of this," Clay gestured to the entirety of the small structure. "Is stuff I've gotten from my tournaments, things I've won before and after fights I am Dream, George. Whether you like it or not." Just to finally drive home what he was telling his friend, he moved to the wardrobe. He pulls out the infamous white helmet and green jacket and extends them to his friend. "Do you believe me now?"

George watched in shock as Clay showed him his uniform. "So you, you really are him... You're Dream. I've been watching your fights for literal years. Does anyone else here know who you are? Or just me?" George gently felt the faded white helmet Clay had displayed out to him. He had imagined the day he would have met the famous Dream. But the thought of having become friends with the man without knowing it was him, escaped the realm of possibility in his mind."I can't believe you're actually him. I've wanted to meet you since I was like, twelve."

Clay couldn't help but laugh softly at his friend's admiration. "I kind of imagined since you have a picture hung over your bed of me. Totally not weird at all by the way." He lightly nudged his now shyly blushing friend.

"I'm taking that down when we get back." He stated matter of factly. George thought back to how many times he had tried to convince Clay to talk with him about how awesome and talented he thought Dream and Techno were. Now he realized how cringy and awkward that was.

"You can leave it up. It really doesn't bother me. Not anymore at least." He offered his friend a gentle smile as he replaced his things back in the wardrobe. "So, this doesn't change things right? You're not gonna just, treat me different because I'm Dream are you?" That was really the reason he hadn't told George at this point. He didn't want any special treatment. Nor did he want his secret to be shouted to the world. But he didn't think George would do that to him.

"No. No this doesn't change anything. I've still seen you pick your toes with a pencil tip and wipe it on your covers. There's nothing you could say that would make me treat you any different than I already do, dude." The moment shared by the two was nothing short of sweet. They shared a caring smile before sighing. "This explains a lot you know. About why you're so secretive about everything. It also explains you and your dad's beef. Did he try to make you quit or something?"

Clay scratched the back of his head for a moment as he leaned against the wardrobe doors. "Actually, he signed me up for the Techno fight. I was the one who didn't want to do it. A few years back I wanted to take a break from the tournaments and focus on school, but my dad convinced me to continue." He looked to his friend, expecting to see an upset fan. Instead, he saw a sympathetic nod.

"That's fair. I see how hard you try on your work. It makes sense since your event is like, in a week or something."

"It's in eight days. Eight days." He didn't seem that happy about it, and George could tell.

"Are you nervous at all?" George moved to lean against the wardrobe with him.

"Not really, no. It doesn't matter who wins the fight. It's evenly matched and we're both better at different things. But I have two papers due the day after and I'm having trouble with them. I just think my time could be more wisely spent then training to fight Techno." Clay sighed deeply. "But that's something to worry about in eight days. For now I'm gonna go get some pizza. Wanna come?" He smiled as he stood up and moved towards the garage exit.

"Are you serious? Yes. Yes I want pizza." George happily followed the taller man out of the small unit. Once it was closed, the two of them headed to the local pizza hut for some below average pizza.