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Mingi coughed as a wave of sea water smacked him in the face. Beneath the water, he had a death grip on the neck of his guitar. He had his sights set on the horizon and a whole storm of worry inside his head.
He worried what the water would do to his instrument. He worried the strings would rust. He worried he was getting tired when he had so far to go. More than anything, he worried that he was very late.
He needed to get out of this water or else he would miss his and Yunho's gig entirely. Yunho would be furious if Mingi didn’t show because he was busy going for a swim. There was no way he could easily explain that.
Mingi’s arms ached and stress made his heart hammer way too fast. He'd been treading water for what felt like hours and it had gotten him nowhere. Desperately, he swam toward a distant edge of the enormous pool. Or maybe it was an ocean. The water was salty, after all. Somehow, it was an ocean and a pool at the same time.
There were other people swimming around him, but they just floated past or shouted at each other or threw a beach ball over his head. No one seemed to care that he was tired and failing miserably at making it to shore.
The next minute, water to his right began to roll and bubble like it was boiling. Mingi's eyes widened and he tried to avoid it, swimming in the opposite direction with his one free arm to put the strange water behind him.
As he did, something wrapped tightly around his ankle, and he yelped. He swallowed a mouthful of water and thrashed around.
This was it. A shark had found him and he was going to die.
Then the shark released his ankle and he saw a head of dark hair come up for air.
It was Wooyoung. He was grinning maniacally.
“Your face!” he cackled.
Mingi tried to speak, but couldn’t. He wanted to smack his friend, but he was too busy keeping afloat.
Wooyoung kept talking instead. “Hey, I have something to tell you! Ugh, this sucks,” he said, spitting salt water and making a face. He glanced around at the open water. “No wonder you were hard to find. Anyway—”
The water suddenly swallowed Mingi whole, and everything went dark.
The scene changed. Mingi was standing. He still held onto his guitar by the neck. He looked down at it, expecting the body to be warped from water damage.
It was worse. The entire back panel of the guitar was missing, the strings were rusted, and there were bits of moss growing along the sides. Tiny vines coiled around the pegs, and dirt was stuck between the frets and the strings.
Mingi wanted to swear, but he still couldn’t speak. It was like his voice was frozen in his throat. Instead, he looked up. He was in the middle of a path covered in the same moss, and on either side of him was thick, dark forest. The trees formed overlapping canopies that blocked out the sky—he couldn’t tell if it was day or night.
Worry crept back into Mingi’s chest and he trudged forward on the path. Instinctively, he sensed his destination was somewhere ahead. The bar where Yunho was waiting for him. He still had a show to play, and he was going to miss it if he didn’t hurry. And if he missed it, the bar would never let them come back.
Above him, eerie noises sounded. A howl came from the branches overhead, sounding like something between an enormous owl, a wolf, and…somebody sort of familiar. Mingi’s anxiety spiked and he gripped his guitar tighter. He kept walking.
When the howl sounded again, it sounded strangely close to a word. Not just any word, but his name. A chill ran up his spine. He dared to tip his head back and look.
Midnight branches shook, and suddenly a flailing mess of arms and legs fell toward Mingi’s head.
He stepped out of the way just in time. When the figure hit the forest floor, Mingi clenched his jaw in annoyance.
“Ow,” mumbled Wooyoung. He pulled himself off the ground with a wince. “Why are your dreams so dodgy? Can’t you hold them still?”
Mingi stared at him, his lips feeling like they were sealed shut. He crossed his arms and imagined himself telling Wooyoung off. Both for startling him in the pool and freaking him out just a moment ago.
Wooyoung shoved his hands in the pockets of his pajamas. He had a twig stuck in his hair, and he was also wearing a pink, fluffy headband. He looked like an idiot.
Wooyoung suppressed a laugh. “You look pissed. Okay, this won’t take long. You know how dreams can be manipulated? Like if you lucid dream, for example, you can sometimes—”
Without warning, the forest around Mingi faded. Wooyoung's voice dissipated until there was silence.
Then, suddenly, there was jarring noise. The lights on the bar’s stage were hot. Mingi could feel the vibrations from the speakers in his feet. His guitar felt solid in his hands. It was intact, miraculously, although a few vines still clung to it.
When he looked behind him, he was relieved to see Yunho at the drums. They were already in the middle of their set, Mingi shouting the chorus of one of their main singles. He could barely hear himself or any bass, though. He signaled the sound guy in the back, then glanced stage left to check on their bass player.
It wasn't their bass player holding the bass. It was Wooyoung. Again.
Mingi tried not to have an instant panic attack when he saw Wooyoung fumbling with an electric bass like he’d never touched a single instrument in his life. His tongue stuck out in concentration and the bass looked awkward in his hands. And they were performing to a full house.
Wooyoung just scoffed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned to Mingi.
“Can we go somewhere else? I seriously need to tell you something!”
Mingi tried to yell no. He didn’t understand how Wooyoung couldn’t see he was busy and had a job to do.
Then Mingi looked out into their audience. To his horror, people were starting to leave. Too many heads were turning away from the stage and migrating toward the door. Mingi felt a knot of nerves tighten in his chest. This was bad—
The relief was instant when Mingi opened his eyes. For a moment, he stayed still and took a couple deep breaths. Then he sat up in bed.
Sunlight peeked through the slats of his bedroom blinds, and he checked the time on his phone. It was almost ten, and it was Saturday. Show day.
He made a mental note to practice the song he had dreamed about performing an extra time that afternoon before leaving for the show. Then he started to aimlessly scroll through his notifications.
Just then, he got a text. It was from Wooyoung.
"bro you should really meditate before bed or something. might help with the stress dreams."
Mingi stared at it in confusion for a full ten seconds. He tried to remember a time he told any of his friends he got stress dreams and couldn't think of anything. He wondered how Wooyoung knew.
Another text from Wooyoung came through.
"call meeeeee!!!!"
