Chapter 2: The Distance Between Dreams

Chapter 2 — The Distance Between Dreams

Mia's POV

The night sky stretched endlessly above me, scattered with quiet, distant stars.

I leaned against the balcony railing, gently stroking Carotin's soft fur as she purred beneath my touch.

Moments like this were peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Because whenever everything became quiet…

The same question returned.

What kind of life did I have before?

Two years ago, after the accident, it felt like I had been born again—placed into a world I didn't recognize, surrounded by people I was told I once knew.

A life that was supposed to be mine.

But felt like someone else's.

Flashback

The first thing I remembered was the ceiling.

White.

Blinding.

Unfamiliar.

Then—

A woman.

She sat beside me, crying.

Her eyes were swollen, red, exhausted—as if she hadn't slept in days.

Who is she…?

My head throbbed violently as I tried to make sense of everything.

Pain pulsed through me, sharp and relentless.

The moment she noticed I was awake, she pressed a button beside the bed.

"Doctor! She's awake!"

Moments later, people rushed in—voices overlapping, movements urgent.

A man stepped forward.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Jansen. I'm here to check on you. Can you tell me your name and date of birth?"

Name…?

Birthday…?

I stared at the ceiling again.

Blank.

Empty.

Nothing came.

"I… I don't know."

The words felt heavy leaving my mouth.

The room fell silent.

The doctors exchanged glances.

And that silence—

It made everything worse.

Who am I?

Why am I here?

My thoughts spiraled, but the pain in my head surged stronger, drowning everything else.

My hand moved instinctively to my forehead—

Bandages.

"It hurts…"

Tears slipped down my face before I could stop them.

Machines around me began to beep rapidly.

"Vitals are dropping—"

"Stabilize her—"

Voices blurred.

The world tilted.

Then—

Darkness.

When I woke again, everything felt quieter.

Calmer.

The pain had dulled.

"It's good that she regained consciousness," a doctor said nearby. "That's a positive sign."

I turned slightly.

"Excuse me…" My voice was weak. "Where am I…? What am I doing here?"

The same woman rushed to my side and took my hand.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she whispered.

Later, the doctors explained everything.

The accident.

The injury.

The memory loss.

They said my memories might return someday.

But in that moment…

I didn't know how to feel.

A person without memories—

Was like being born again.

Except I wasn't a child.

And I was expected to understand everything.

That was when I learned the truth.

The woman beside me—

Was my mother.

She held my hand and told me everything would be alright.

And I believed her.

Because I had nothing else to hold on to.

Back to Present

Time passed.

Slowly at first.

Then easier.

My parents never pressured me.

They didn't force me to remember.

Instead, they gave me something else—

Patience.

Care.

Love.

We moved to a new place for a fresh start. They didn't want me overwhelmed by things I couldn't recognize.

I even asked for old photographs once.

Hoping something would trigger a memory.

But nothing did.

Just emptiness.

Still…

Because of them, I learned how to live again.

I made new friends.

Built new memories.

Became someone new.

Months later, they asked if I wanted to return to school.

I said yes.

Because maybe—

Moving forward mattered more than looking back.

Carotin let out a soft purr, pulling me back to the present.

I smiled faintly.

"You're getting sleepy too, huh?"

She stretched and padded toward her bed.

The night had grown quiet.

I stepped inside, closing the sliding door behind me, and lay down on my bed.

My eyes slowly grew heavy.

Maybe tomorrow…

Would be just another normal day.

Or maybe—

Something new would begin.

Morning

The morning air slipped quietly through the half-open window, cool and pale with the first light of day.

It brushed against my skin—

Soft.

Distant.

Almost unreal.

Because I wasn't really there.

Not in that room.

Not in that morning.

I was somewhere else entirely.

The Dream

Music unfurled like silk through the air—slow, elegant, endless.

A grand ballroom stretched around me, bathed in the golden glow of chandeliers that shimmered like suspended stars. Light spilled across polished marble, catching the gentle turn of dancers moving in perfect, unbroken rhythm.

And at the center of it—

I stood in his arms.

Louis.

His presence was quiet, grounding. One hand rested at my waist, firm but careful, guiding me with a precision that felt almost instinctive. As if he already knew every movement I would make before I made it.

My fingers curled lightly against his shoulder.

"Mia…" His voice was low, threaded with warmth. "I love you."

The words settled into me like something long-awaited.

"I love you too, Louis."

The world softened.

Faded.

There were no other faces. No distant footsteps. No sound beyond the quiet rhythm of the music and the steady pull of his presence.

Only him.

Only us.

We moved in slow circles, weightless, as though time itself had loosened its grip. The music slowed, stretching each note into something deeper—something fragile.

Then—

Silence.

The music ended.

Around us, the other dancers began to drift away, their forms dissolving into the golden light as if they had never truly been there.

Leaving only the two of us behind.

We stopped.

But neither of us stepped back.

His eyes held mine.

Dark. Steady.

Searching.

There was something in his gaze—something that reached past the surface, pressing gently against places I didn't have words for.

I couldn't look away.

Didn't want to.

He leaned closer.

Closer—

"Mia."

The voice shifted.

Sharpened.

Intruding.

"Mia, it's time to wake up!"

Reality

RIIIIIIING!!!

My eyes snapped open.

The world collapsed back into shape—walls, ceiling, morning light cutting too brightly across my room.

For a moment, I lay still, caught somewhere between two realities.

Then—

Awareness hit.

I was hugging my pillow.

Tightly.

My lips pressed against the fabric.

There was a faint dampness at the corner of my mouth.

"…No," I whispered hoarsely, staring up at the ceiling.

A long, defeated breath left me.

"We were so close…"

My hand fumbled blindly across the bedside table until it found the alarm. I silenced it with a dull tap.

The quiet that followed felt heavier than the noise.

The bed was still warm.

Too warm.

Inviting in a way that made logic feel optional.

I hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then—

I pulled the pillow back into my arms, burying my face into it.

"Just five more minutes…"

My eyes slipped shut.

Mia's Mother

"Mia, breakfast is ready!"

The words carried easily up the stairs, warm and practiced—part routine, part habit, part love.

I stood at the kitchen sink, sleeves rolled, the faint scent of cooking still clinging to the air. Normally, she would answer immediately.

A lazy "coming" or an annoyed groan.

Something.

Today—

Nothing.

I paused, hand stilling against the plate I was washing.

"That's unusual…"

A quiet unease crept in, subtle but persistent.

"Mia?"

Still nothing.

The silence stretched too long.

What if something's wrong?

The thought came uninvited—and once it did, it refused to leave.

I set the plate down and moved quickly, steps sharper as I climbed the stairs. By the time I reached her door, the unease had already begun shaping itself into something heavier.

I tried the handle.

Locked.

My frown deepened.

I knocked, firmer this time.

"Mia? Mia, are you okay?"

No answer.

I leaned closer, pressing my ear gently against the wood.

For a second—

Nothing.

Then—

"Louis… mm… not there… that's my ticklish spot…"

…

I froze.

The silence that followed was no longer empty.

My expression shifted.

Concern unraveled—thread by thread—into something else entirely.

"…I see."

A slow, knowing smile curved at my lips.

"Well… my daughter is growing up."

From my pocket, I retrieved the spare key.

"Let's confirm that."

The lock clicked softly.

I opened the door.

"This girl, what are you doing so early in the morni—"

I stopped.

There she was.

Tangling herself in her blanket like it was another person, arms wrapped tightly around a pillow she clung to with surprising devotion.

Murmuring.

Smiling.

Dreaming.

…

I stared.

"…I panicked for this?"

My hand rose to my temple.

A breath in.

A breath out.

Then—

My expression darkened.

"This child…"

My voice dropped—flat, dangerous.

"She has time for this…"

I stepped forward.

"But not to wake up for school?"

Without hesitation, I grabbed the blanket—

—and yanked.

"Louis… I'm cold… warm me…" she murmured.

That was it.

I pulled harder.

Mia

I was there—

Right there—

At the edge of something—

THUD!

"Ow!!"

The world flipped violently.

I hit the floor, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

For a moment, everything blurred.

Spun.

My thoughts scrambled as I pushed myself upright, blinking rapidly.

Earthquake?

Then—

A shadow fell over me.

Tall.

Still.

Unmoving.

Two glowing red eyes burned down at me.

"Monster!!"

Smack.

"Oh."

I blinked again.

"It's just Mom."

"Good morning, Mama," I said, forcing brightness into my voice.

She looked down at me.

Smiling.

But her eyes—

Her eyes said something else entirely.

"Go downstairs in one minute," she said calmly.

Then, sharper—

"Or I'll let Carotin eat your breakfast."

She turned.

Left.

The door slammed shut with finality.

I sat there for a second, staring at nothing.

"…That was a threat."

I exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of my head.

"She ruined everything…"

My gaze drifted toward the bed.

"We were almost there…"

I reached for the clock.

7:00 AM.

My class starts at 7:30.

…

…

…

Everything in me went still.

"…No."

My heartbeat spiked.

"NO."

"I'M GOING TO BE LATE!!"

The next few minutes blurred into chaos.

Water.

Steam.

Buttons half-aligned.

Hair barely tamed.

I moved on instinct alone—fast, clumsy, desperate.

By the time I rushed downstairs, my hair was still damp, droplets trailing down the back of my neck. My blouse was only half-buttoned, fingers still working at it as I moved.

Breakfast was already packed.

Of course it was.

Mom always knew.

"Thank you!" I called, grabbing it and stuffing it into my bag.

"Take care on your way to school," she replied, as calm as ever.

Like she hadn't just ended my dream life.

I leaned in, kissed her cheek quickly, and ran.

The street felt quieter than usual.

Too quiet.

Most people had already disappeared into the rhythm of their day—work, school, routines that didn't wait for late sleepers.

I patted my cheeks lightly.

Once.

Twice.

Stay awake.

Stay focused.

You can still make it.

If I hurried.

If nothing went wrong.

Something did.

Not wrong.

Just—

Unexpected.

Near the end of the alley, I slowed.

There were unfamiliar faces.

New neighbors, maybe.

Then I saw him.

A boy stood beside a sleek black car, its surface reflecting the morning light too cleanly, too sharply—like it didn't belong in a place like this.

Neither did he.

He wore the same school uniform.

My school.

First year?

I would've remembered him.

He reached for the car door—

Then stopped.

His head turned slightly.

Not abruptly.

Not casually either.

Deliberate.

Like he had already noticed me long before I noticed him.

Our eyes met.

Something in my chest tightened.

Shifted.

He smiled.

Small.

Controlled.

The kind of smile that revealed nothing it didn't intend to.

Then he walked toward me.

Each step measured.

Balanced.

Not slow.

Not rushed.

Just… precise.

"Good morning," he said. "I'm Vince. New student. First year."

He extended his hand.

I hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before taking it.

"I—I'm Mia. First year too. We'll probably be classmates."

His hand was warm.

Steady.

But his grip—

It adjusted slightly the moment our fingers met.

Not tighter.

Not looser.

Just… calibrated.

Like he was careful not to apply more force than necessary.

Like he was aware of it.

Of me.

Of everything.

"That's good," he said.

His gaze flicked—not at me—but past me.

Brief.

Sharp.

Then back again.

"You're heading to school, right? We can give you a ride."

Before I could answer, his hand moved to my bag.

He lifted it easily.

Naturally.

But there was no hesitation in the action.

"Hey—wait—"

Too late.

He had already turned.

He opened the car door.

"After you."

I paused.

Something about this felt—

Off.

Not wrong.

Just… too smooth.

Too certain.

Like a decision had already been made somewhere, and I had only just arrived at it.

But—

I was late.

And his parents were inside.

Watching.

Waiting.

So—

I got in.

The interior was immaculate.

Quiet in a way that felt insulated from the outside world.

Vince slid in beside me.

The door closed.

Soft.

Final.

"Oh my," a woman's voice chimed, light and amused. "Looks like our Vince has already made a friend."

"Darling," a man added, "don't tease the girl."

I glanced forward.

His parents.

Composed.

Observant.

"Oh, she's blushing," the woman continued.

Heat rushed to my face.

"I'm not—I mean—I just—my skin does that sometimes—"

They laughed gently.

Not mocking.

But not entirely casual either.

I shrank slightly into my seat.

Then—

I glanced at Vince.

He wasn't looking at me.

His gaze was fixed on the window.

But not lazily.

Not absent-minded.

Focused.

Tracking.

His eyes moved subtly—left, right—pausing at reflections rather than the street itself.

Watching angles.

Distances.

People.

And for just a second—

His expression shifted.

Sharpened.

Like something had aligned.

Unseen

At the corner, a black van slowed.

Tinted windows.

Engine low.

Inside, a man watched the passing car.

"…Target confirmed."

Mia

I didn't notice.

I didn't see the van.

Didn't see the way Vince's gaze had changed.

All I knew was—

My heart hadn't settled.

My thoughts felt tangled.

And sitting beside me…

Was someone I didn't understand yet.

Someone careful.

Someone controlled.

Someone who felt—

Not like coincidence.

But like the beginning of something already in motion.

Something I had just stepped into.

Without realizing it.

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