Vivian’s nightmares.

It’s time to finally right some wrongs!

…

Hopefully.

Your dick is telling you to go Vivian’s dream, fuck her silly until she’s completely obsessed with you and then fuck her in reality.

Fortunately, it’s not your dick doing the thinking, for once.

The image of her nightmare is still stuck in your head. Mostly her crying, pained face. The way she reacted to Shelly’s questions today felt oddly familiar, too.

Before you know it, the doors are moving and Vivian’s door is in front of you. That settles it. Vivian’s dream it is.

You go inside and you’re glad to see you’re not in the same dark room again. Instead, the sigh is very familiar, since you’ve had similar dreams recently.

You’re in a school’s cafeteria. Not yours, so you guess it’s Vivian’s. The place is packed with students, of course. You can hear lively but undistinguishable chatter all around.

You notice you’re wearing your normal clothes. So to test things first, you focus, thinking that you’re wearing the same uniform as the guys you see around. In the blink of an eye, your clothes change. You tap you feet on the floor, and after confirming your movements are your own, you begin your search for Vivian.

Again, just like the first time with Shelly, finding her is not hard. She is, after all, the center of her own dream. You’re surprised to see her sitting alone in a far corner, however. The sight is eerily familiar. Before you can approach her, a group of girls walk up to her first. They have this air around her, like they own the place and everyone, even Vivian, know it. Their faces are clear, meaning Vivian knows who they are. They’re all wearing cheerleader outfits.

“What the FUCK are you doing here, Vivi?” The girl in front of the others, a hot, black haired girl speaks, practically spitting the words. “I thought we agreed you could eat anywhere BUT the cafeteria.”

“I… I didn’t b-bring lunch today, s-so…” Vivian nervously tries to explain. Worry is clear in her face.

“Look, now she’s making excuses!” A blonde girl says aggressively.

“How pathetic!” Another girl says.

“We had a deal, didn’t we, Vivian?” The black-haired girl says. “You don’t appear in front of us, and we leave you alone, If not, you can’t complain,” The girl takes a cup of juice and pours it on top of Vivian’s red hair. “when we do this.”

All the girls begin to laugh while Vivian looks like she’s holding back the tears through sheer willpower. The atmosphere of the dream becomes oppressive and gloom, as if an invisible burden for sadness weighs on your shoulders.

Familiar feelings, really.

For a small moment, you wonder how much of this is true. It feels real and simple enough to be a memory of reality, but it’s hard to say. You dismiss that thought for now and get ready to act.

You were able to create clothes for yourself, so you do something similar now. First, you think of a backpack with a towel inside. Second, a plain lunchbox with sandwiches inside. Now, with backpack on your shoulder and lunchbox on your hand, you approach the group of girls.

You make sure to completely ignore the cheerleaders and focus solely on Vivian.

“Hey, Vivian?” You begin. Wow, you know this s a dream, but you still can’t help but feel nervous at what you’re about to do. You’ve never been able to do it in reality, after all. “Would you… huh… like to eat lunch w-with m-me?” You say, showing the lunchbox. “I made sandwiches…”

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are-?”

“I’m not talking to you. Buzz off.” You say. Your voice is full of cold fury. This is the exact same kind of crap you had to endure in high school. You even got in fights because of it (most of which you lost, but still). Talking to a girl to ask her out is still scary. Telling bullies off no longer is, especially dream ones. “Go eat your lunch, polish your nails, go do whatever, just go away. You’re wasting your time.”

You’re not sure what did it, but the cheerleaders scoff and go away, giving you icy glares.

“Sorry, you’re soaked!” You reach around to your backpack and take the towel, offering it to Vivian, who is looking at you with wide eyes. She accepts the towel nervously and begins to dry herself.

“So,” You cough awkwardly. “…about lunch?”