It was the day before the event. The weather was wet and gross out, leaving most at home and avoiding the outdoors. Everyone of course, except for Clay. He had desperately tried to keep himself busy from worrying about the even the next day, but to no avail. Nothing took his mind off the fight that would ensue in the arena. So, as the rain poured heavily on him, Clay trained. With who though? Take a guess…

"No no no, you have to keep lower, or it makes it easier for me to knock you over." This exact sentence had been spoken nearly ten times now as Clay helped George to his feet. They both held prop shields and hard plastic swords as they sparred. George seemed to be getting the short end of the stick in this situation.

The anger welling in the shorter man became painfully evident as he threw his things on the ground. "Clay! For the love of-I need to take a break or something. Because if I have to hear you say that one more time, I might throttle you." George walked to the canopy several yards away. There was a station of towels and drinks under the protection of a roof. Their phones happened to be there as well so they weren't ruined in the rain. "You need a break too. Or a drink. One of the two." George sat in one of the two foldable chairs set up.

Clay didn't so much as turn his way. "I can't. I fight tomorrow, and if I'm not in the best shape, Techno's gonna whoop my ass. I can't have that." He swung his sword in a series of elaborate jabs and feigns as he twirled around in the mud. His blonde hair stuck to his face and barred his vision slightly as he jumped and spun to the right. Unfortunately, because it was raining, the mud made for a terrible place to land. Let alone on one foot. Clay stumbled and fall backwards into the sloshy earth.

"Break time now?" George called out to him. The brunette sipped on a water as he checked his phone. "I could use a drink. How about you?"

"I don't need a drink, George!" Clay sat up, trying to wipe the mud from himself. "I need to train. I, I need to...I need to get ready." George looked to his friend, worried at the breakdown he seemed to be having. The tall blonde had his knees pulled to his chest and his head nestled between them.

George set his things down and moved to kneel next to him. "Hey...what's got you so worked up over this fight? I know you can do it, man." Clay shook his head.

"There's a lot more than a trophy riding on this. If I don't win, there's no way I'll be able to take off the time I want to travel and finish school. As it is, my grades are dropping, and if I don't get them up, I won't be able to finish." Clay looked up to his friend. "I just, I don't know what to do."

George helped Clay to stand and guided him to the dry area. "How about we not worry about it for the time being? I doubt stress will make the outcome better. We can go out or something. Do something to just completely take your mind off of tomorrow."

"I guess...what do you want to do?" Clay attempted to scrape the mud from his jeans with no luck.

"How do you feel about going to the store, getting some food and just, having a night in?" George grabbed his things. "Come on. We can get some pizzas. Some crappy beer. It'll be fun!"

"That does kind of sound fun...okay. Okay that sounds fine." With a smile, Clay gave into George and let him drag him to the nearest Walmart.

Now back in a warm and dry dorm room, both Clay and George were mud free and chowing down on some microwaved pizza. Both were also shitfaced drunk.

"Your turn your turn!" Clay threw a piece of stiff cheese at the other, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Truth or dare?"

Without thinking twice, "truth." George finished off the last drops of liquid from his amber bottle before tossing it aside. "Don't be lame though."

"Okay okay. Have you ever drunk called someone? Like an ex girlfriend or something?" Clay laid back, looking to his right to watch the other.

"Oh yeah. That was baaaaad." He giggled softly and pulled out his phone. After struggling for a solid thirty seconds to unlock his phone, George pulled up his gallery. "This girl right here. I got super drunk like, two days after she dumped me. Told her I loved her and she hung up on me. That was so embarrassing." George pocketed his phone once more. "Now you. Truth or dare?"

After pondering for a moment, he answered. "Definitely dare." He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Okay. I dare you to call someone right now. Wait! No I want to pick who it is!" George made a grab for the offending phone but was smacked away last second.

"Truth."

"Wait! You can't back out now! You picked dare." He snatched the phone from his hand anyways. "What's your passcode?"

Clay took his phone back, unlocked it, and surrendered the electronic to the other man. This couldn't have worked out well.

George sifted through the multitude of contacts for several moments. "Oh my god I found someone." His fingers started typing away. And before Clay could snatch his phone back once again, the damage was done.

Clay...
Hey! Cant w8 for our date tmrw. Hope u wont reck me 2 hard ; )

On a normal day, Clay would have torn George a new one. But at the current standpoint, he thought this particular text was absolutely hilarious. "Oh my god George! He's gonna think I'm hitting on him you idiot!" He couldn't help the whole hearted laughter that tore through him as he clutched his phone to his chest.

"Yeah I know! Maybe then you'll finally get laid, dude. Just helping a buddy out." George was no better off than the green eyed boy. He himself was rolling on the ground, laughing hysterically.

"You know damn well I don't swing that way, fanboy." He scoffed in amusement.

PING

Clay's phone rang with the sound of an incoming message. "He responded, he responded!" The two gathered around the phone, breaths held.

Techno...
What the hell are you talking about? We don't have a date. Stop being weird.

The sound that came from George was nothing less than a literal squeal. "Techno responded to yooouuu! Text him again!"

"Okay, okay. What should I say?" With thumbs ready for George's input, he looked to the other.

Half wanting to meet the legendary Technoblade and half just trying to see his response, he suggested something that Clay had no problem with in his inebriated state. "Um, tell him...tell him to come over. That you can't wait for tomorrow."

Clay...
You know wat i mean. ; ) Wat about you come over, sirrrr. Cant wait till tomor to see you.

He showed George the phone and the two were practically rolling around once again in laugher. The next message from Techno came much quicker than the first.

Techno...
You're drunk aren't you? Fine. I'll be over soon.

Upon seeing the text, George's mouth nearly hit the floor. "He's coming over! Oh my god oh my god oh my god! God himself is coming over!" This warranted a rather meaty smack from Clay.

"What am I then?" There was a distinct pout coming from the taller one.

"Uh, god 2.0?" That didn't help. Clay glared at him for a moment before his abandoned pizza caught his eye. After this exciting moment with his friend, Clay and him went back to casual drunken conversations. For nearly an hour, they laughed and carried on merrily. That is, until a knock came at their door…