“Hey,” the newcomer says, taking a seat beside me. I glance over, noting his charcoal jacket and hair, and feel instantly awkward.

“Sup,” I reply, shifting uncomfortably.

He eyes me curiously. “Are you casting for the nightmare too? You don’t exactly scream ‘perfect fit’ to me.”

“Excuse me? How should I be if I wanted to join your scary frightmare?” I say, immediately on the defensive.

“Well, you wouldn’t say ‘Frightmare’ for starters,” he grins. “You’d be like me—dark jacket, dark pants, dark hair, dark heart.”

I look around, relieved it’s just the two of us in the large waiting area. “I’m not convinced about your dark heart.”

“Trust me, it’s positively colorvoid. Wanna see it?”

“Uh, no thanks. Your vibe’s already scary enough.”

He chuckles. “Why are you here, then?”

“For the day dream.”

“Day, dream, huh?” He says the words slowly then glances behind him at the large screen, which shows the view through the host’s eyes. I follow his gaze and notice the clock reading 12:07 pm.

“Asleep at noon, nice. So it’s a Day-mare then? Never done one of those before.”

“Daymare?”

“Yeah, a scary dream or something like that.”

I sigh, exasperated. “Whatever that is, I doubt it’ll happen. I’ve been waiting here forever.”

He smirks confidently. “That’s before you had me.”

“Riiiight?” I raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Let’s see that script of yours.”

“No way! You know I can’t let someone from the Nightmare Realm see it. Same as I can’t see, and would never ever want to see, yours.”

“Hey now,” he holds up his script, “This is a Daymare now… we’re on the same team.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” I say, unconvinced. “And it’s against the rules.”

“Okay, how’s this. Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

I stare at him, incredulous, then slowly close one eye.

“Both eyes, Dream Girl,” he scolds gently. Despite myself, I smile and close them.

He places his script in my hand, closing my fingers around it. I feel the warmth of his hand mixed with the coolness of the paper—soul paper. It instantly connects me to his essence. Surprised, I open my eyes and see shades of sky blue and neon orange within the gray-shaded script.

“Wow! You’re the teacher who flunks our host?”

He grins. “Apparently. And you?”

“I’m the bad influence who makes you flunk them,” I say, brows raised. “Never played one before. I’m not crazy about it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Story’s too plain Jane. Wanna kick it up a notch?”

“What? Can we even do that? What about the Soul Guardians?”

“Yes, anything’s better than this B-movie crap. And we’ll be subtle about our editing.”

I hesitate, intrigued by his devil-may-care attitude. “Alright, Night Boy, what’s your plan?”

He leans in close, and my heart skips, thinking he might kiss me. But instead, he whispers into my ear. I stare at him, watching our soul papers merge and vanish. Then he stands and extends a hand. “Ready?”

For reasons unknown, I take it immediately. Suddenly, we’re on a sleek onyx motorcycle, racing through winding cobblestone streets. I gasp in shock.

“Hold on!” he calls, nonchalantly taking a sharp turn. I clutch his waist in panic.

“Helmets!” I yell.

He chuckles, looking back briefly. “Do I really have to remind you this is a dream?”

To prove his point, he grabs two steaming cups from a café table without stopping.

“Cheers,” he says, handing me one. Grinning tentatively, I clink cups with him, sipping espresso as we glide beneath Baroque archways, through side streets fragrant with pastries and pizza. Above, an accordion and electric guitar duet on a small cloud, performing a Tarantella.

Relaxing slightly, I lightly rest my fingers against his neck.

Suddenly, the rushing sound of water catches my attention, and as we round a corner, a stunning travertine stone capolavoro comes into view.

“The Trevi Fountain?!” I exclaim.

He nods, pulling two coins from his pocket and tossing them over his shoulder into the fountain.

“Why?” I ask.

“It’s a legend,” he replies softly.

“A legend, huh? No murder or other heinous acts? That’s unlike you,” I tease.

He smiles shyly. “Honestly, this feels scarier than any of those things.”

“What—the water?”

“No,” he looks at me earnestly, “You.”

My heart leaps. “Me?”

“Well, you could never be scary,” he winks, “but my—feelings, or whatever they are—they’re seriously triggering my flight response.”

“What do you—?”

“I really like you, Dream Girl,” he interrupts gently, sincerity filling his eyes.

Warmth fills me, and after a pause, I lean in slowly.

Right before our lips meet, the sky violently darkens red.

“Really?! Way to ruin—“ I start.

“It’s not me,” he corrects urgently. My blood runs cold.

“The Soul Guardians!” he shouts. “We pushed our luck. We’ve got one way out. Jump into the fountain, quickly!”

“What—why?”

“No time!”

Meeting his eyes, I trust him, grab his hand, and leap into the water.

***

“Morning, sleepyhead!” My younger sister, Gina, teases loudly. “Dreaming of your boyfriend again?”

“Shut up, dummy,” I retort, blushing. “It was just finals stress.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire. You were saying his name again last night.”

Embarrassed yet laughing, I throw a pillow at her. “Ok, fine, Gina. Remember that Hallmark movie we saw, the one with the Trevi Fountain?”

“Yeah, Tom Cruise was amazing in that, and Rebel Wilson—“

“Right, but the legend. Do you remember? When she throws two pennies and they bounce off his face and land in the fountain?”

“Oh yeah,” she giggles, “it meant she would return to Rome and find true love.”

I nod, smiling.

“Everything okay, sis?”

“Yes, yes, everything’s great, thank you.”

Gina leaves, puzzled, and I sit back, replaying the vivid dream in my head.

I’m startled when the doorbell rings. Mom calls upstairs, “Jesse, Ridge is here!”

Snapping to attention, I rush downstairs. Ridge smiles gently at the door, dressed in a dark jacket embroidered with “Rome.”

“Ready?” he asks, holding out his hand.

I notice his jacket and smile knowingly. “Sup, Ridge. Why are you wearing a Rome jacket?”

“Oh, this? My dad works for them: Rome Snowboards.”

Warmth fills me again, remembering the dream clearly. I grab his hand without hesitation.

“Ready.”