this one's in englisshhh (also sorry if this is not that well written i wrote it when i first started writing in english so i didn't have that much fluidity)
i only wrote a small prologue and one chapter (and a playlist with only three songs: stay awake-atl, lullabies-atl and asleep-the smiths) so im gonna publish it all together
btw jack has blue hair here bc jack had blue hair in highschool so
tw// mentions of suicide and death
***
prologue
get a grip and get out
you're safe from the weight of the world
just take a second to get things straight
dedication takes a lifetime
but dreams only last for a night
✨✨
alex.
I don’t remember much about my grandad given that I was pretty young when he died, but if there’s a thing I can remember, is his stories. All grandparents tell stories, about the war, about how things where back in their days; about their lives. My grandad was no difference, he used to tell me, my brother and my sisters about those; but he also told us other very peculiar stories.
He used to say some people had the ability to meet other people in their dreams, talk to them and just, you know, hang out. He apparently had that ability and he used to tell us stories of his wildest dreams and about the people he met. And, as a kid, I was mesmerized by those stories. What kid wouldn’t be? It all sounded awesome.
When I got older, though, I stopped believing in those things, because it was too special to be true, too amazing. It was still fun to remember the stories with my siblings, but I wouldn’t be all hyper about it anymore.
Until, one night, my brother Tom told me it happened to him, that it was real. None of us really believed what grandpa told us, we listened to him, but when you stopped being a kid those stories became childish fairy tales to make us happy and entertained. So, obviously, my first reaction was to laugh and take it as a joke. Sure, grandpa told us it was hereditary, that it run in certain families, once the person in the family who had the ability –the <<dream power>> as he called it– died, another relative obtained the power; but, again, they were just stories.
Yet Tom was determined to make us believe it was true, that it wasn’t some sort of joke to make fun of our granpa’s beliefs, and he became the next grandpa in the family –meaning he wouldn’t shut up about his dreams and the <<dreamers>>, aka the people who had the supposed dream power.
I was sceptic about it all; until it happened.
My brother Tom committed suicide after struggling with alcoholism for some time. Unfortunately, we didn’t notice his addiction until it was too late.
I was also the one who found him, between empty bottles and pills scattered all over the floor, and, after that, I couldn’t leave my room. I spend days and days trapped in bed, thinking that, maybe, I could sleep it all off. It was naïve of me to think that getting some sleep would make my brother magically resuscitate and, of course, sleep never did bring him back –but it showed me that I, too, had inherited the so called <<dream power>>.
When it all begun, I stumbled upon different people every night –sometimes, I met the same people twice– but that was it. To be honest, it was a shame I only got to see those people once or twice, because I was meeting were different people from all over the world.
But, then, one night, I met him. And, after that, it was weird the night I didn’t see him.
—
one
sing me to sleep
i’ll see you in my dreams
waiting to say “i miss you, i’m so sorry”
✨✨✨
I had been in bed all day, crying –that’s all I seemed to do these days, crying and skyping school–, I still couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t be able to see my brother or talk to him anymore. I didn’t even really bother eating, even if my mom insisted in all of us making an effort to at least eat something, and ended up crying myself to sleep, as usual.
Another thing that changed since Tom left is that I inherited the weird dream power, ironic how I used to make fun of him for these stories that seemed too good to be true and now I had the ability.
And, it’s not just the fact that I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I am dreaming, but that, lately, I’ve been having the weirdest dreams ever. I believe it’s because of the people I’m meeting, that these are their fears and worries, but that night, it was completely different and, if I must say, a good kind of weird.
Instead of dreaming of spiders falling from the sky or being fired, I saw Mark Hoppus driving a burrito-van.
Curious, I followed the van –because, apparently, I was able to run just as fast as a freaking van– and, when the burrito-van came to a stop, I found a boy.
And, to be honest, he was pretty hot. He was tall, a bit taller than me, I think, and skinny. He had blue dyed hair and he was wearing a Blink-182 t-shirt.
It’s not like I was gay, but I could definitely tell a guy was attractive when I saw one.
The boy smiled widely at the burrito-van and effusively thanked Mark Hoppus who, besides of leaving the van full of burritos all for that boy, gave him a Blink-182 t-shirt –even though the guy already had one on– and run away.
“Hey, good night!” Said the boy, once he noticed me, smiling. “You’re another dreamer, right?”
I slowly nodded, watching him devour a burrito in a matter of seconds. “Yeah… I like Blink too… and burritos.”
His eyes lighted up at my response and he threw me the Blink-182 t-shirt Mark just gave him and a burrito.
“Cool, that’s so cool, I still hadn’t met anyone into bands ‘round here. You can have that, I already have one and, you know, it’s a dream anyways so I’m not gonna keep it, you might as well enjoy it while it lasts.” He said, referring to the Blink-182 t-shirt.
I put it on and ate the burrito.
“I’m Jack, by the way.” He said, stretching his hand out for me.
“Alex.” I answered, shacking his hand.
“Have you been having these dreams for a long time? Or are you new to this whole thing? You seem new.” He rambled, while he took another burrito from the van. “Wow, man, it’s awesome how you can eat a bunch of these and still not get full.”
He was talkative. And it got me thinking, because I used to be like that too, I wouldn’t shut up either, but then, since the Tom thing happened I guess I became more quiet. If things would’ve been different, if I had inherited the dream power without my brother dying, I probably would be just as hyper and talkative as the blue-haired.
“Yeah, I am new.” I said, finishing off my burrito.
Then, his expression became much softer and he gave me a small smile, almost sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
And he didn’t have to say anything else, because we both knew that there couldn’t be two in the same family with the ability and that, for it to pass to another person, the other had to die first.
—
bonus: notes about what this was supposed to be
they met in dreams and then afterwards jack changes schools and they meet irl too. yet irl alex is pretty cold with jack, he is dating lisa but sorta flirts with jack in dreams giving poor jacky false hopes (what was up with me and doing fuckboys).
i also wanted to do a bunch of crazy stuff bc dreams are wild man and the potential that would've had man. also bc it's dreams sometimes one would forget about what they dreamt that night so.... i wanted to have them kiss in a dream and jack be super happy about it but then talks to alex the next day irl and he doesn't remember.... until he does and gay panics.
***
man now im sad this had potential™.
anygays tell me what you think about this one and cry with me.
–cris x
