I stared at the barista, heart pounding. Her name tag said Sharon, and I have been watching her smile at customers for weeks. Today, I finally worked up the courage to say something.
"Hey, um… I was wondering if maybe you'd like to grab coffee sometime.."
Before I could even finish, she smiled, that polite, pitying kind of smile and said, "Sorry, I have a boyfriend."
The whole café went silent for a second after she said it, her polite smile sharper than a knife. The people in line pretended not to listen, but I could feel their eyes on me pitying, amused, judging.
I forced a smile and muttered, "Oh, right. Of course. "Then I grabbed my coffee and walked out before my face completely burned off.
Outside, the wind felt colder than usual. I don't know why I even tried. Maybe I was desperate for someone to just… see me.
As I walked back to the bus stop, my mind replayed everything wrong with my life like a bad movie.
Mom kicking me out a few months ago "You're twenty two, Luke. You can't keep wasting your life in this house. Get a job. Grow up." Those were the last words I could remember my mom saying before I moved out of our house.
I told her I wanted to stay a little longer, just until I could build myself up, at least get some footing before moving out like my brother and sister. But she wasn't ready to listen. Regardless of being the last born, she wanted me gone.
So I got a job. Now I spend my days in a tiny office, filing papers and pretending my boss's screaming doesn't make my ears ring.
And then there's Jean my roommate. He's everything I'm not. Confident and popular. Always surrounded by people, especially girls. He loves to remind me how lucky I am to share rent with someone like him.
When I finally reached home, loud music was already shaking the walls. Jean was throwing another party, again. Laughter, clinking bottles, girls giggling. I slipped past the crowd into my room, pretending not to exist.
The smell of alcohol and perfume filled the air, mixing with my frustration. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.
"I'm so tired of this," I whispered. "So damn tired of being nobody." Silence. Then the music outside got even louder. Someone banged on my door, laughing.
That was it. The last push. "I just… I wish I could have what I want for once," I said to no one. My voice cracked.
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The noise faded, my thoughts drifted. My chest felt heavy, like something deep inside me was about to snap.
And just as my eyes began to close, I saw it, a faint blue light flickering in the corner of my room and a shadowy figure appeared. I was terrified, My body felt heavy, but my mind was awake, caught somewhere between a dream and reality. then I heard a voice
"Desire is the root of all control. What is your desire? Speak it," the deep voice said, echoing inside my head. Its voice sent chills straight into my bones. Even though I never believed in anything supernatural, I still listened thinking it was just a dream.
I groaned, half irritated, half-confused. "Great. Now even my dreams are trying to lecture me." I rubbed my face, still half asleep. "Fine… I wish for world peace," I muttered sarcastically.
Nothing.
"Okay then, maybe money? Or a house? No, wait how about a better job?" I chuckled at myself. "What the hell am I even doing talking to my dream?"
But then, for some reason, my mind went back to that barista, to the laughter from Jean's party, to every woman who'd ever looked through me like I didn't exist.
And before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Fine. To get to sleep with any woman I want."
The air suddenly tightened. The voice came again, deep and final:
"Your wish shall be done," the voice replied, "but beware, you are making a contract. Every gift has a price, and you shall pay it at the end." The figure vanished.
Then everything went black.
I woke up gasping, sitting straight up in bed. My chest was pounding, sweat rolling down my face like I had escaped a nightmare. My chest was heavy, Everything in the room looked normal. Nothing strange.
"What kind of stupid dream was that?" I muttered to myself.
Returned to sleep I kept turning it over in my head until I finally drifted off again
It was 6 a.m when I woke up in the morning. The room was normal. No lights, no voice, no nothing. I sat there for a while, then laughed when i remembered about the dream.
Still, something felt different, like there was a strange pulse in my chest. Confidence, maybe? Or madness. Hard to tell. I got dressed, grabbed my bag, and left for work.
The morning air was cold, biting at my face as I walked to the bus station, joining the silent crowd. Most of them focused on their phones, scrolling endlessly as if trying to escape the same routine I was trapped in.
Then I saw her. The flower stand girl. I have always been passing here seeing her beautiful face, Always smiling, always busy, the kind of woman guys like me don't even try talking to.
But today, something inside me whispered, try. I walked up before I could change my mind. "Hey," I said, my voice awkwardly casual. "I know this sounds insane, but… wanna skip work and come back to my place?"
Yeah. That was the dumbest sentence I've ever said. She turned slowly, looked at me. For a moment, I was ready for her to laugh or slap me. But instead, her eyes softened, her lips curved into a faint smile. "Okay," she said.
My brain froze. "What?" She giggled. "Okay," she repeated, like it was the most natural thing in the world. That was the exact second I realized that my stupid dream wasn't just a dream.
It was real.