For the first time since the dreams began, Mira felt nervous about sleeping.
Not curious.
Not amused.
Nervous.
The conversation from the previous night kept repeating in her mind.
"Why did your mind create me here?"
The question had unsettled her more than she expected.
Because the truth was… she didn't know the answer.
The next day at work felt longer than usual.
Mira tried to focus on spreadsheets and emails, but her thoughts kept drifting.
Every once in a while, she would replay the dreams again.
The studio.
The conversations.
The strange feeling that those moments were somehow… real.
By evening, she felt mentally exhausted.
When she reached home, she barely spoke during dinner.
Her mother noticed immediately.
"You look tired," she said.
"Work," Mira replied quickly.
It wasn't entirely a lie.
But it wasn't the whole truth either.
That night, Mira lay in bed staring at the ceiling again.
Her phone sat beside her, quietly playing one of the songs she had been listening to lately.
The soft music filled the room.
She closed her eyes.
"Let's see if it happens again," she murmured.
Sleep came quickly.
When she opened her eyes, something was different.
Mira was not standing in the rehearsal studio.
Instead, she was standing on a rooftop.
Cool wind brushed against her face.
The sky above was dark, filled with stars.
City lights stretched endlessly in the distance.
She looked around in confusion.
"This isn't the studio," she said.
Her voice echoed softly in the open air.
Then she heard footsteps behind her.
"You noticed."
Mira turned around immediately.
He was standing near the edge of the rooftop, hands resting casually on the railing.
She walked closer, still looking around.
"You changed the location."
"Did I?"
"Well, I definitely didn't."
He smiled slightly.
"Maybe the dream is evolving."
Mira crossed her arms.
"That sounds suspicious."
"Everything about this situation is suspicious."
"Fair point," she admitted.
For a moment they both looked out at the city lights.
The view was beautiful.
Cars moved like tiny glowing dots on distant roads.
Buildings stood like dark silhouettes against the night sky.
"This place is nice," Mira said.
"Better than the studio."
"You complained about the studio."
"I complain about everything."
He laughed softly.
"I noticed."
After a few minutes, Mira leaned against the railing beside him.
"You know what I realized today?" she said.
"What?"
"I think my brain is getting used to you."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Why?"
"Because you're starting to treat this like a normal conversation."
Mira thought about that.
Then she sighed.
"Maybe it is."
He turned his head slightly.
"Normal?"
"Talking to someone who listens," she explained.
"That's rare."
He didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he simply watched the city lights.
After a moment, he spoke again.
"You had a stressful day today."
Mira froze.
Slowly, she turned toward him.
"How do you know that?"
"You were quiet during dinner."
Her eyes widened.
"What?"
"You kept checking your phone during lunch."
Her heart started beating faster.
"And you spent fifteen minutes staring at your computer without typing anything."
Mira stepped back slightly.
"Hold on."
Her voice became tense.
"How do you know that?"
He looked at her calmly.
"You're the one dreaming."
"That doesn't explain anything!"
For the first time since the dreams began, Mira felt a small chill run down her spine.
Because those details…
had happened in real life.
She stared at him carefully now.
"You shouldn't know those things."
"Why not?"
"Because you're part of my dream."
"And dreams come from your mind."
"Yes."
"So maybe," he said quietly, "you already knew."
Mira shook her head slowly.
"No."
Something about this felt different.
Uncomfortable.
Unexplainable.
The wind grew stronger on the rooftop.
Mira looked back at the city lights again.
For the first time, the dream didn't feel like a simple imagination.
It felt like a space where her thoughts were being observed.
Where someone understood things she hadn't spoken aloud.
Then she asked the question that suddenly felt important.
"Why are you here?"
He looked at her again.
But before he could answer—
The city lights flickered.
The rooftop began fading.
Mira groaned.
"Not again!"
But the dream was already dissolving.
His final words reached her just before everything disappeared.
"Maybe," he said softly,
"because you needed someone to talk to."
Mira woke up suddenly.
Her room was quiet.
The early morning sky was still dark outside the window.
She sat up slowly, her heart still racing.
The rooftop.
The conversation.
And the things he had known about her day.
Mira rubbed her face tiredly.
"This is getting weird," she whispered.
But the most confusing part wasn't the dream.
It was the feeling that stayed with her after waking up.
A strange sense of comfort.
As if someone had actually listened to her.
And understood.
Even if that someone only existed in dreams.