The required dreams came and left.
There was another one of him in the dream, falling from the sky. "Hi, my name's Drake Hirsch," dream Drake said.
"Hello," normal Drake said. "Welcome to New York City, Drake Hirsch."
Dream Drake smiled and looked around as their background splotched into view – rugged buildings with ageless elegance, green signs amid right-angle corners, bustling pedestrians and hot dogs and the beeping of cars.
"We live here now," dream Drake said. "What do you do here?"
New York melted onto a field. A ball shot past, followed by a pack of out-of-breath boys, hair and clothes sticking to skin with sweat.
"Soccer," real Drake said.
"You mean football?" dream Drake asked.
"We're rubbish at them both," real Drake said.
"Something else, then," dream Drake said.
"Here," real Drake said, and the air around them melted into pastel colors.
"Where is this?"
"Pinkberry. Only the best frozen yogurt place in the world." A cup of frozen yogurt appeared in real Drake's hand. Mochi and cookie dough and white chocolate chips rained down from the dreamy heavens, sprinkling perfectly onto the frozen yogurt. Both Drakes materialized into two seats and the yogurt was placed on a round white table, two spoons on its side. There was a red rose sitting in a tiny clear vase in the middle of the table. They spoke as they ate.
"No more school?" dream Drake asked. "You're wearing your civvies. You look nice."
"No school," Drake confirmed. "And thanks. I've got myself a job now, even, to support us." With two fingers, he straightened the rose, which was starting to lean to the side. "And to think everyone said I was useless."
They faded away and Drake woke up.
i had a conversation – and a frozen yogurt – with myself.
i had a job.
i wasn't useless.