Chapter Text
"Hey, congratulations on coming back in one piece. How was it this time? Not too bad?"
Namjoon was greeted by the familiar drawl of one Min Yoongi as soon as he opened the door to their shared space. His friend probably heard the noises he was making while trying to open the front door and came out of his personal studio to investigate. Namjoon dragged his feet to the sofa where he dropped down unceremoniously and rubbed his face tiredly with his right hand. He leaned back, drained, neck craning somewhat uncomfortably. Namjoon then rested his hand on his eyes in an attempt to block the artificial ceiling lights that, in his opinion, were shining a little too brightly.
"Uh, yeah. Things went well this time around as well," came his curt reply.
Yoongi waited for a few more seconds, standing under his doorframe somewhat awkwardly, to see if Namjoon wanted to elaborate. Once it became clear that that was as much as he was getting out of his friend, he decided to go back to his personal studio for the time being. After all, Namjoon would come to him on his own volition if ever he needed anything, be it advice or just someone to rant to.
Namjoon stayed motionless even after hearing the click of Yoongi's door closing. He was utterly exhausted. Dream creation tended to have that effect on him. After all, one week of dream making in addition to the actual delivery wasn't exactly what he would call a walk in the park. At the moment, all he wanted to do was to lie down somewhere and not get up for the next few days or so but he knew that it was impossible. Not only could he not keep pushing his ever piling work further onto Yoongi, who also happened to be the one to manage everything during his week of absence, but he also knew that even if he did lie down, he would not be able to get any rest. His mind was still replaying the events of his most recent client. Thinking back, Namjoon noted with much apprehension, not for the first time nor the last, just how dark and disgusting human nature could get, how some people would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. Even stooping as low as forever sabotaging someone else's chance at happiness.
His client this time around was a dancer. A very promising one at that. So promising in fact, that he was a fan favourite to win the grand prix at the yearly dance competition held in Seoul. From the memories that Namjoon had taken a glimpse at, he excelled in hip hop and his popping was particularly mesmerizing, something even Namjoon, who was born without a single dancing cell in his 6ft tall body, could recognize.
At this point, Namjoon was thoroughly exasperated with humanity because good things can apparently never last. This man, Hoseok, if Namjoon recalled correctly (he rarely bothered with names because remembering names means getting attached and that was dangerous) could have won.
Yet, he couldn't even participate in the competition because one of the other participants decided that Hoseok was much too big of a threat and therefore had to be taken cared of.
Permanently.
In order to do so, the person devised a plan to cause what appeared to be a complete accident while Hoseok was rehearsing onstage. The result had him sustaining a devastating spine injury which, in the process, caused him to permanently lose the ability to use his legs.
Namjoon couldn't recall the finer details very clearly, because, well, they were inconsequential to him so he simply skimmed over them when perusing through Hoseok's memories. In addition to him not particularly caring about the more gruesome details, investigating a memory closely meant that the client was forced to relive that same moment all over again so he usually avoided doing that unless the situation absolutely called for it. After all, he didn't take any particular pleasure in causing more pain to already hurting people.
So, like a scenario straight from a drama, just because one particularly jealous participant decided that Hoseok had to go, the latter ended up being stuck in a hospital bed for a few months. Worse yet, the chance of ever recovering the use of his legs was zero. To Hoseok, losing the ability to move his legs was like depriving a butterfly of its wings and still expecting it to fly freely. It would be safe to assume that he was at wits end, giving up all hope.
And this is where Namjoon came in.
Namjoon was what you would call a Dream Maker. His job was to recreate the scenario that caused his client the most regret in the form of a dream. Once the person is in it, they were given a second chance to change the outcome.
The dream was indistinguishable from reality.
The dream itself became reality.
The price for such a service? One's life. His ability might seem unfair (how is a mere dream worth a person's life? Their future?) but to many who have spent their life living in guilt and with regret eating them alive, it at the very least guaranteed them the opportunity to right a wrong and leave this life finally at peace with themselves. Even if the change was only in their heads, it was still better than nothing. It was the ultimate form of lying to yourself.
Now, many might think that Hoseok was a little too quick to give up, that he acted a little too selfishly. After all, there were people who still managed to dance despite being paraplegic. And what about his family? But consider this: not everybody handled tragedy the same way. While some were more resilient, others simply hit rock bottom and ended up losing the will to climb back. It was the latter case for Hoseok.
As Namjoon learned over time, hope was everything. As long as you still had hope, things were still salvageable, no matter how fucked up things appeared to be; however, once a person lost that hope, they were lost forever. There was no longer any use in trying to convince somebody that life was still worth living when they had completely given up. Even ramming yourself again and again against a concrete wall would be more productive in comparison.
When Namjoon met Hoseok for the first time in the hospital, the man was but a mere shadow of his former self, the many months spent in the hospital causing his form to wither away completely.
That is why, one look at him and Namjoon knew.
So, rather than waste both their times trying to convince Hoseok that he hadn't hit rock bottom, that there was still hope, that he wasn't as fucked as he thought he was, Namjoon just cleared his throat and quietly asked what kind of dream the dancer wanted to be made for him. Once he gathered all the necessary information and he deemed himself ready to go, Namjoon bid the dancer farewell and threw himself into the composition.
This was the part where he combined his on-the-side job with his real one.
Dream making was the on-the-side job, if it could even be considered a job at all. His real job was that of a producer-slash-musician. He and Yoongi met in high school and hit it off immediately after discovering their shared passion for music. After powering through university, the duo decided to become professional musicians. They each had their strong points. On one hand, Namjoon featured in a lot of songs. On the other, Yoongi did a lot more production than he did featuring.
Work at the beginning was sparse so they were hard pressed to take some odd jobs here and there; however, as time passed and their songs became more and more well-known throughout their musical circle, people willingly came to them. They no longer produced only for themselves but for others as well. It was also during this time that Namjoon discovered his ability.
So after going through the client's memories for background information and in order to produce a more accurate recreation of the settings, he would go back to his studio and for one entire week, compose a song. He imparted into it emotions that he wanted the person to feel when listening to it and every note, every lyric, was written with the dream in mind. He needed to imprint a very powerful imagery in their minds. His music acted as a guide for the dreamers and compelled them forward, to change reality; however, as much as he could push them to act, he could not force them to do something against their will. While he could initiate the change, the rest was in the dreamer's hands. If they decided to repeat the same actions as the past, history would essentially repeat itself.
In Hoseok's case, his biggest regret was being unable to perform on the stage he had been practicing/preparing for his entire life, since the moment he knew that being a dancer was his calling. Hence, Namjoon created a world in which the crippling accident never happened. That then became the dancer's new reality.
After the week was up, Namjoon made another visit to see Hoseok, his second one also being the last. The dancer, who had been looking outside the window forlornly, turned towards Namjoon when he heard the door opening and offered a feeble smile. Namjoon didn't bother smiling back. He was here for business so he simply got to work, wordlessly setting his equipment up. When he was done, Hoseok's hospital room had turned into a makeshift production room.
Namjoon dragged the only spare chair in the room next to Hoseok and plopped down onto it. He then proceeded to explain the procedure in a low voice and Hoseok listened quietly, with the occasional hum of acknowledgement here and there.
Once Namjoon was done, he leaned back and just stared at Hoseok.
‘Are you sure this is what you want?’
The dancer stared back.
“I am ready, you know? I’m not changing my mind.” His voice had a slightly hoarse quality to it, probably due to the long period of disuse.
Namjoon simply grunted before getting back up and finalizing the last of the prep work. Before starting, he threw one last look at the man lying on the hospital bed, just to make sure that this was really what he wanted (after all, he might have the power to send someone to death with a dream, but he certainly couldn’t bring them back). Receiving an encouraging nod in response, Namjoon took one last deep breath and began.
As the first few notes of the song began playing, Hoseok eyelids fluttered as he slowly drifted deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. Namjoon let his own eyes close shut, feeling the music envelop him, filling him up.
And he started.
The lyrics flowed freely, carried to Hoseok's ears through smooth baritone. Namjoon conveyed every emotion he wanted the dancer to feel through his voice and silently prayed that the latter would successfully erase the regret residing in his heart.
Finally, the last few notes echoed in Namjoon ears, notes bouncing off the walls and coming back to him. He savoured the feeling for a few more seconds before slowly opening his eyes. Letting his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he then glanced at Hoseok and let a tired smile soften his previously creased expression. If the dancer's peaceful smile was anything to go by, then the dream making this time was a definite success.
After gathering all his stuff and bidding Hoseok a silent farewell, he left without another glance back. He walked all the way back to his shared apartment with Yoongi and now here he was, neck getting increasingly sore from the uncomfortable craning position he was in.
Somehow, in the midst of all those replays (he had the tendency to overthink after completing a dream), he had managed to fall asleep. He was, however, awoken quite abruptly when the bell rang, the shrill sound breaking the previous silence that had settled in the small apartment.
Namjoon groaned as he rolled his head forward, hoping to relieve some of the soreness and called out a croaky "I'll get it" to Yoongi. He cleared his throat as he ambled his way to the door, opening it straight away, not bothering to check the peephole. He was way too tired to care about safety procedures at this point. If it was a robber, what was there to rob from two broke ass musicians anyways? It's not as if they had much cash so unless the robbers were somehow able to move their equipment out, the robbing would be pretty much a big failure.
Rather than coming face to face with a balaclava clad face and a threatening weapon as a tiny part of him was expecting, he was instead greeted by a mop of jet black hair.
‘Dyed,’ his tired mind supplied unhelpfully. ‘No hair naturally looked that black.’
Mentally shaking his head to rid himself of useless thoughts, Namjoon’s eyes travelled downwards until he was looking into what he supposed were dark brown eyes because as of now, the eye smile the kid in front of him was sporting nearly hid his irises completely.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, the presence of a sudden lump making it harder to find words.
“Umm, hello. How may I help you?” he asked in a tone he hoped was “politely distant”.
“Is this the apartment of-” A quick look was thrown to words written on a crumpled piece of paper. “-Kim Namjoon-sshi?”
“Yes? That would be me.” Namjoon was getting increasingly confused. Who was this boy and what did he want with him? Was he here to request a song? A student looking for work? A new neighbour? That didn’t seem likely.
“Perfect!” An even more blinding smile. “I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Go on…?” he asked tentatively.
Thinking back, nothing in the world could have prepared Namjoon for the words that would soon come out of the black haired boy’s mouth.
“Namjoon-sshi, I want you to make a dream for me.”