Mina's POV

I clutched my stomach and tried muffling my laughter but to no avail. "...And then the juice just came snorting out of my nose! It was so stupid, but it's just because it's funny," Min-guk explained and stretched his legs out in front of him. His shoes didn't make a sound as they dangled from the porch steps. We both laid back, our arms behind us for support as we looked out into dark night.

When my outburst toned down, I let out a tired sigh. "Oppa," I called out and turned to look at him. He had his eyes closed like he was seeing things in a better perspective. "Remember when you were in first grade, the time when mom was teaching you spelling and you kept misspelling the same word over and over again?" he said.

Min-guk laughed. "The woman went so hysterical about it that she hit your arm with a ruler," he continued.

A cold gust of wind blew and I pulled my knees, hugging them closer to my chest before nodding. "You pulled me by my wrists and brought me to your room, locking us inside. Omma threatened to hit you, too, and you told her, 'Go ahead.' But she didn't. And then we weren't allowed to have dinner that night because of it."

The man laughed some more, and I envied how he always sees the good things in everything – well, except for one time, and it turned out to be the worst moment to be pessimistic. Min-guk reached out and held the side of my face with his cold hand. "But I snuck out and brought you food, anyway, because I was afraid you'd go hungry. And now you just skip meals like it's torture for you to eat."

"Do you–" I opened my mouth and wanted to ask Min-guk a question that had bothered me for as long as I can remember. But then I remembered who I was talking to, so I just shrugged. "Nevermind."

"Aish." Min-guk's face contorted in frustration, and he wound his arm around my waist to pull me closer. "Tell me," he urged on. I cocked my head to the side and saw how he pretended to look strict and angry. I shook my head, still defiant. "Oh come on! You can't say something like that, cut yourself off, and decide not to continue!" he whined.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to give him what he wanted, I raked my fingers through my hair while organizing my thoughts. "Do you know..." I started and paused, thinking of other ways to say it without hurting myself. "Do you know how it feels like..." I breathed in sharply through my mouth. "...to feel ugly all the time?"

"Do you feel as if, no matter what you do, you just aren't good enough?" I continued, the questions gushing out of my mouth with newfound courage. "Do you feel so alone at times, even in a crowded room? Do you lay in bed and then feel upset for whatever reason, and then you end up crying about everything? Do your thoughts ever scare you?"

Because I hate the extra inches on my stomach and my thighs that don't fit the average-sized jeans. I hate how my hair looks like no matter how many times I've tried brushing it. I hate how my teeth look crooked and the gaps in between them. I hate how clothes look so pretty when someone else wears it but when I try it on, it looks like garbage.

I hate how my voice sounds and I hate how I say certain words. I hate how I talk to people and how they look at me. I hate how I look in the mirror that sometimes I just want to smash it into a thousand little pieces. I hate how I never seem to get anything right, even for once. I hate how I fumble and stumble and trip.

Min-guk put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. "Well, do you?" he answered, turning my question back to me. I could only nod in response. "Maybe you should see your doctor again," he suggested and began to inch further. "Wait, Min-guk..." I tried calling out, but he smiled and descended the porch steps, continuing to walk before completely disappearing.

I hated it. I hated, hate, and will forever hate waking up in the morning with my thoughts and my dreams screaming at me. Kicking the bed sheets away from me, I reached out to the bedside table and dialed for Donghae with trembling hands. "Mina," he greeted firsthand, although I wondered if he had been expecting me to call.

"There's this...this chamber I've read about once," I started breathlessly. "It's in...Ugh, I don't remember where it is. There's this chamber in...in..." I smacked my palm against my forehead. "I don't remember where it is! Stupid, stupid me. Wait, just wait for it. I'll try to remember it. This...this chamber. There's...In Minneapolis!" I exclaimed loudly, my breathing erratic as I spoke. "There's this place...this chamber in Minneapolis in the States that...I remember that they said it was so quiet and they called it the quietest place in the world."

"Mina, calm down," Donghae ordered softly.

Then I just realized I was panicking without me knowing it. "There's this chamber in Minneapolis in the US that's so quiet that if you go in there, you can hear your organs functioning. Can you believe it?" I let out a forced laugh. "It's so quiet that if you go in there, you can hear your own thoughts. And...in this chamber...the quietest place in the world...people can go insane just hearing their own thoughts."

I grabbed a fistful of my hair and began crying unconsciously. "And I thought maybe...just maybe...that if I went there in that chamber, no one would hear how horrible my voice sounds like or...or how...or how I talk. An-and, I could hear Min-guk clearly. Right. That's right. I could go there...and I wouldn't have to worry about going insane because I'm already out of my mind. And Min-guk...I could talk to him longer..."

Donghae sounded frustrated on the other line. "Don't...please don't be like this," he said, though I didn't understand why he sounded pained. "Don't be like this when I have no idea how I can help you." He paused for a while, clearing his throat and there was a sound of fidgeting and fumbling from where he was. "Um, I meant, did you have that nightmare again?"

He retracted his concern just in time before I could possibly believe it, before I could easily hold onto his pity. Smart guy. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand and got up from the bed. "I did. I did, actually. I-I'm sorry. This is...I mean, I shouldn't have called or...I'm just...I know it's not the best way to start your morning with the sound of my voice...or something."

"Well, you don't know how much it means to me to hear your voice so..." Donghae mumbled, still intelligibly.

My right foot stepped on my left and I tripped through my own fault. Nice. "M-mwo?"

He cleared his throat again. "I mean, you don't know how much it means to me that you call so...so I can help you. You know, I'm a helpful...I'm a helpful person so..." Donghae quickly explained. "You can always talk to me. B-because, um, I'm your psychologist! Yes, yes, I am. So yeah, you can always talk to me whenever...wherever...about whatever...yeah..."

I fought back a laugh while heading to the kitchen. "You mean, you call your patients and tell them that?"

"No. Just, um, just you, actually," he replied truthfully.

Sticking the phone in between my ear and my shoulder, I almost dropped the bowl I was holding. Clumsy, clumsy. "Why?"

"It's, um, just because you're the only one with recurring nightmares so..." he immediately explained.

Even Donghae said it so. I was the only weird one, perhaps the craziest out of all the crazies he's been helping and curing. "Oh," was all I could muster to say. But even so, I set my food down on the table and sat, waiting for Donghae's next words. Min-guk was nowhere to be found, which was strange, since he always shows up while I eat.

"Will I see you later?" he asked, breaking the silence. I poked around my food for a while, assessing my answer. This time, the dream wasn't just nothingness. Min-guk was there, but for once I could say it wasn't a nightmare. It didn't scare me, nor did it creep me out like what the nothingness does. Instead it centered on me and how I hate being me. "Can I?" I asked, remembering how Min-guk had told me to see my doctor again.

"Of course!" he exclaimed a little too loudly against his phone's receiver. "I mean, sure, of course." And Donghae went silent for a while. "Young Mina," he called out my full name, which worked effectively since he had me all tensed and anticipating. "Don't cry anymore, okay?" he reminded, making his point so clearly. I nodded to myself, switching the phone to my other ear. "Okay." Then I hung up, knowing I had nothing more to say.

Narrator's POV

Mina scratched her head in confusion and wonder. To catch your bad dreams away ☺ For the second reason, I will tell you that I care about you and that it pains me to see you cry, was the message typewritten on the card attached not to a rose – or any other flower – but to a dream catcher, which she had stumbled upon opening her front door.

She was about to ponder about it some more when a rose fell on her table. "Um, hey," a man named Jaejoong greeted. Mina looked up at him with a perplexed expression, seeing how he was talking to her. Since she had first started her job in the company, Jaejoong had always thrown quick glances towards her way, and she thought he was one of those who thought she was a freak.

Sure, he had those big, black glasses and he mostly keeps to himself, but he was still a person capable of judging and criticizing, or at least that's what Mina had thought. Once in a while, he would express himself in the simplest of ways, like a cup of coffee waiting for her when she arrives at her workplace or a note telling her that the color blue suits her well. Of course he doesn't directly tell her that it's him who gives her these, but Mina knows by the number of times he passes by her table just to check if she has seen it.

"It's for you." Jaejoong gestured to the flower with a small smile. Mina blinked her eyes multiple times before pointing her finger to her chest. "For me?" she asked again to make sure. The man nodded and scratched the back of his head. "Thank you," she mumbled almost incoherently with a shy smile. He smiled back. "It's the first time I've seen you smile," he confessed. "You should do it more often."

And Jaejoong felt blood pool in his cheeks, which caused him to look away. Mina was just stunned, an immediate assumption creeping in her mind. The man was the first to speak after the awkward silence. "I should go," he murmured and pointed back to his workstation. The woman nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Jaejoong-ssi." This time, though, she didn't smile.

–

"Coffee, water, juice...?"

"Water would be fine, thanks," Mina replied before collapsing on the velvet cushion. And as Donghae walked towards the mini fridge, his ed lab gown flew behind him, which the woman found graceful. "How was your day?" he asked nonchalantly. Mina shrugged. "The usual. How about yours?" And Donghae was surprised that she was interested to know something about him. Usually, the how-are-you thing would end when she would respond with silence.

He controlled his trembling hands and managed to pour water into a glass. "Too repetitive, I guess, but fine." And Donghae poured some more water into his coffee maker and made coffee for himself.

"Remember that rose I told you about yesterday?" Mina started, shifting the topic to her concerns.

Donghae was grateful that his back was facing her, or else she would have seen his nervous expression. He gulped down hard. "Yes, but what about it?"

The woman browsed through the magazines laid out on the center table which she never took notice of before. "Today, I got a dream catcher. The giver must be a mind-reader or something," she commented. "And I think I know who the giver is."

The good doctor pursed his lips and felt his palms perspiring. "Really?"

Mina nodded. "I think the giver is some guy from where I work. His name is Jaejoong," she said, which was followed by the sound of something falling to the floor and breaking into little pieces. She immediately stood up from where she was sitting and rushed to Donghae's side. "N-no worries. I got it," he muttered and gestured for her not to go nearer.

He knelt by the floor and began picking up the shards with his bare hands absent-mindedly. "Your palm's bleeding." Mina noticed and grabbed him by his wrist, leading him to the seats. "B-but the glass..." Donghae muttered softly, his eyes closing in where Mina was holding him. She felt conscious and retracted her hand. "I'll wash my hands first."

And she jogged to the sink and rinsed her hands thoroughly. After a while, she returned to his side. Quickly, Mina pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. The woman made it into a makeshift bandage and wound it around the cut. Ignoring Donghae's occasional wincing, she applied pressure on his hand to stop the bleeding, which meant that she had to hold his hand tightly.

It wasn't the pain. No, Donghae didn't care about the stinging pain. All he had in mind was that the woman – whom he liked – was now holding his hand.