You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as your eyes traveled across the room full of students hunched over their desks, answering a piece of paper that accounted for a part of the fifteen percent of their final marks.

Quiz day had always been a day that you hated because the stillness in the air amplified even the softest sounds—the whirring of the air-conditioning vents, the gliding of pens over paper, the exhaling of students who looked up at the ceiling as if they were expecting answers to magically fall on their answer sheets.

You once found solitude in silence, but now it was unbearable. Your senses were on alert and a deafening siren blared inside your head, your body begging for any kind of distraction from the silence that surrounded you.

You closed your eyes and rhythmically tapped your fingertips on your desk, mentally counting down the seconds as they ticked by, just like Dr. Kim had instructed you to do when you found yourself in situations like this.

You had counted up to thirty-one when the timer on your phone finally went off, signaling the end of the quiz. The class collectively sighed when you stood up from your seat and asked them to pass their papers forward.

“Most of the essays I graded last night failed to impress me,” you announced as you collected the papers from those seated in the front row. “I did find a few of them interesting, though. Sehun’s paper, in particular, was the most striking.”

The class turned to face the tall boy at the back, and he shrunk from the unwanted attention. He rarely spoke up in discussions, but whenever he passed a write-up, it would be so succinct and well-written that you wouldn’t believe that it came from the most timid boy in class.

“Sehun, please share with the class what you wrote about Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your essay,” you smiled softly as you nodded at him, encouraging him silently.

Color rose to his cheeks, tainting his pale skin with a light pink shade that softened his strong features.

“I, uh…” He hesitated as he looked at you for help and you gave him a reassuring smile, wordlessly telling him that it was okay. He continued, “I likened it to The Dream. The four protagonists woke up falling in love with the person they should be with, thanks to the potion given to them by the puck…” He sat up a little straighter. “Isn’t that what The Dream does to us? We just wake up one day knowing that we’re supposed to love this person as dictated by fate, just like how Demetrius and Lysander were dictated by the puck’s potion.”

After Sehun spoke, the room went still. This was one of the rare moments when you didn’t mind the quiet: when the class fell silent but their minds traveled at the speed of light.

It was when you knew your students had learned something new, when they froze for a moment and thought so hard you could almost see the gears turning inside their minds.

Teaching wasn’t the most glamorous profession and sometimes it made you want to rip out all of the hair on your scalp, but it was moments like this that reminded you why you chose this job in the first place.

“Thank you, Sehun,” you said with a proud smile. “What do you think about what he just said? Do you agree or disagree?” You asked the class.

“It does resemble how The Dream works,” Jihyo, the girl seated in front of Sehun, said. “The puck didn’t give them the chance to choose who to love, just like how we aren’t given ours. It makes me think of how it can even be considered as love when we aren’t given a choice in the first place. Isn’t that deception? Doesn’t it make love simply an illusion?”

“Correct,” you affirmed. “Illusion is one of the central themes of the story. The protagonists were made to believe that everything that happened in the forest was all in their heads, same as how the puck broke the fourth wall at the end and told the audience to think that the play was just a dream if they found it distasteful. But I guess the illusion depicted in A Midsummer Night’s Dream gives off a different connotation in our society.” You glanced at your gold wristwatch, the minute hand displaying that you didn’t have much time left. “Any more questions?”

You were surprised when Sehun slowly raised his hand.

“Have you had The Dream?”

You gave him a small smile. “Not yet.”

—

Dr. Kim’s office was just a few minutes away from where you worked, situated on a busy avenue at the heart of town.

You lived in a quiet neighborhood at the far end of town, and even though it was quite a walk from the clinic, you were grateful that you had the day’s session with him to ponder on and keep your thoughts company as you walked home.

Joohyun, his assistant, greeted you with a smile as soon as you entered the clinic.

“You’re a bit too early for your session,” she said as she scanned through the day’s appointments on her clipboard. “But Dr. Kim doesn’t have any patients right now so you could probably go in. I’ll just let him know.” She smiled at you and then picked up the telephone on her desk, calling Dr. Kim to inform him that you were already there. “He’s ready for you.”

“Thank you, Joohyun,” you said. “Are we still on for karaoke night?”

She laughed. “Definitely.”

When you entered Dr. Kim’s office, he was already seated on the sofa, reviewing his notes from your previous sessions. He noticed you and stood up to bow, and then gestured for you to sit on the couch opposite him.

His office didn’t look like a doctor’s office. It was like a rich person’s living room—the furniture was sleek and modern, the tables and shelves were adorned with succulents, and quirky lights hung from the high ceiling.

Your favorite feature of the place was the window that ran from the ceiling down to the floor and had the perfect view of the town’s skyline, and on days when you were lucky enough to have a schedule with him at around 5:30 p.m., the huge window acted like a frame for the masterpiece that was the sunset, although that happened rarely as you normally had your consultations with Dr. Kim before noon or in the evening.

“Why are you so early?” He asked with a small chuckle.

“Sorry, Dr. Kim,” you said as you sat down. “My last class ended early.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Junmyeon?” He sighed. “I’m your sister’s best friend.”

“It feels weird… but I’ll try,” you laughed.

“Shall we start?”

The session started the way it usually did. He asked about how your day went and if something had happened that had triggered you.

You told him about quiz day and how you discussed A Midsummer Night’s Dream with your class today, but apart from the queasiness that you normally felt on quiz days when the classroom became too quiet for your liking, nothing big happened to trigger another episode.

The past week had been boring, actually, but you knew that falling back into your routine was good and that it meant that you were getting better. But there was one thing…

“Chanyeol had The Dream a few days ago.”

“Chanyeol?” Junmyeon looked up from writing down on his notes. “Your best friend?” You nodded. “Did that bother you because…” You nodded again, and he didn’t have to finish his sentence.

He knew about the long history that you and Chanyeol had, not because he was prying into your personal life—which was probably in his job description, anyway—but because he had to know if The Dream had visited you.

You told him no then, and he asked if you ever came close to it, like uncharacteristically falling in love before The Dream came. That was how he knew what happened between you and Chanyeol.

Yes, you weren’t fond of The Dream because it didn’t let you love the person that you wanted, but the thing with people like you was that The Dream came to you differently, or rather, your brain perceived it differently.

Some would fail to realize that it was The Dream and think that it was just another hallucination. In worse cases, The Dream drove them mad.

It was dangerous for people like you, and that was part of the reason why you were so terrified of having it.

“How did you feel when he told you about it?”

“I felt happy for him,” you said truthfully. “But… I also felt sad. I wondered if we’ll finally end up together in our next lives. Regret is the more correct term, I think. We could’ve been so many things, but the world obviously has other plans.”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his notes intently. You could tell he was thinking hard about something. The office was silent for a few minutes and it made you uncomfortable so you spoke up once again.

“Is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head and smiled. “It’s perfectly normal. I know a lot of people that fell in love way before The Dream came to them. I’m sorry if I worried you or something. I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

He stood up and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a piece of paper from one of his drawers and made his way back to where he was seated.

“This,” he said as he handed you what he had retrieved. “I was thinking about how we should prepare for when The Dream comes to you.”

The paper was folded like a brochure, with the text A Guide to The Dream printed on the front page in bold letters. Beneath the title, written in smaller text was Dr. Kim Minseok, M.D., dream specialist and oneirologist.

“The Dream comes on its own time, but sometimes it can come early when something prompts it,” Junmyeon said. “A close friend or relative may get The Dream, and the next thing you know, it comes to you as well. In your case, I think Chanyeol’s dream may possibly have an effect on you, given your, uh… relationship with him.”

You frowned. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” he calmly stated. “Like I said, The Dream comes on its own time, but sometimes your interpersonal relationships have an effect on its arrival. I’m just saying that you should be ready. If it comes, tell me right away. You have my number, right?” You nodded. “I’ll immediately arrange a schedule for you with Minseok when that happens.”

“This other Dr. Kim… you know him?”

Junmyeon chuckled. “He’s my older brother.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not recommending him because of that,” he smiled. “I’m recommending him because as a medical professional myself, I think he’s the best oneirologist out there, and I know a lot of people.”

You hoped that you wouldn’t get to visit the other Dr. Kim for a long, long time, not because you didn’t want to meet him, but because you didn’t want to face The Dream just yet.

You had just come to terms with Chanyeol, but more than that, you weren’t sure if you could live knowing that someone out there was destined to love you, flaws and all. You had many imperfections, that, you were sure of, but what if your soulmate realizes that they can’t handle you? What if you weren’t the kind of person they hoped they would end up with?

“Some people don’t get The Dream, don’t they?”

Junmyeon blinked rapidly, taken aback by your question. “I have read about rare cases like that, yes. Why?”

You looked out the window to avoid his questioning gaze. “What if I’m a rare case?”

“We won’t know that until you get past the age of getting The Dream, and that’s like three decades and a half from now,” he chuckled. “That’s still a really long way to go.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I tend to get ahead of myself most of the time.”

“That’s okay. It’s normal to get nervous about what might happen.” Junmyeon stood up from the sofa and transferred to his desk. “CBT seems to be working excellently on you. We’re making good progress,” he said as he typed away on his computer. “Have you stopped or at least tried to stop smoking?”

Silence.

If Junmyeon was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “That’s okay. Just try to keep it at a minimum. It kind of slows down treatment, but if you feel like it helps calm you somehow, it’s okay. Just try to take it down a notch, hm?”

You nodded and thanked him for his hard work for the day. You left the clinic and went home, and for the first time in a long while, your thoughts were silent as you walked away from the noise of the busy town center.

—

Nightmares visited less often now, but when you did have them, they all started the same way.

You were in a moving car; hills dotted with tress rolled pass your line of sight as you looked out the window. The sunset was nowhere to be seen but somehow you know that it was the late afternoon as everything outside was covered in a violent shade of orange, like the air was on fire.

Unlike in your previous nightmares, however, you weren’t driving. You were in the passenger seat, your left hand linked to another’s. You weren’t anxious about being in a car, which surprised you.

You looked up to see who was driving, but he wasn’t someone you already knew. Confused, you tried to slip your hand away from his, but you couldn’t move. You opened your mouth to ask who he was but no sound left your lips. You just sat there and looked at him; only realizing just now that he was probably the most beautiful man that you have ever seen.

He looked good even though you could only see half of his face. He had a defined jaw, his thin lips seemed to be perpetually pouted, and his downturned eyes were focused on the road.

His free hand rested comfortably on the steering wheel, his slender fingers tapping against the leather as he hummed an unfamiliar yet soothing tune.

His most striking feature was his hair. It was silver, but not the shocking kind. It was the color of moonlight—mesmerizing, radiant, and regal.

It reminded you of moonlight.

“What?” He asked as he turned his head to look at you, noticing how you were staring at him.

Even his voice was perfect, like butter melting above toast. He then gave off a smile that showed his teeth, and you swore to God that that was the most captivating smile on the face of the earth.

Warmth started spreading from your chest to your entire body, like how hot tea felt when it settled at the bottom of your stomach. It felt good. It felt comforting. It felt like everything was all right.

He focused his attention back on the road as he lifted your intertwined hands and brought the back of your palm to his lips. The kiss was soft and unassuming, but somehow it made shivers chase each other up and down your spine.

This wasn’t a nightmare, you realized.

It was a dream.

It was The Dream.

You woke with a start.

You sat up on your bed, the warm feeling from the dream not quite leaving your body just yet. You noticed that your room was covered in a peculiar silver light, and you looked out the window to see that the moon was bigger than it usually was, like it was just a stone’s throw away from where you sat.

It reminded you of the silver-haired man you just saw in your dream.

Moonlight.

You grabbed your phone from under your pillow and called Junmyeon.