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[color=mediumseagreen][h1]Mark Song[/h1][/color][/center]

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On a fundamental level, Mark knew full well that he was willingly submitting himself to the self-fulfilling prophecy that embodied his coffee addiction. The crashes that inevitably followed the caffeine highs were always brutal, but there was something oddly habit forming about that fact which kept him going back to the stuff every day. So here he was, failing to stifle a yawn as he opened the door to his apartment, having just gotten back from his shift at Literati Coffee. It had been a busy day, but Mark preferred it that way as he hated just standing around with little to do and nobody to talk to. 

[color=mediumseagreen]”I’m home,”[/color] he announced to his empty apartment, kicking his shoes off rather unceremoniously.  Another yawn escaped the young man, evidence of both the lack of caffeine coursing through his system and the rather late night he had subjected himself to. 

[color=mediumseagreen]”Coffee, coffee, coffee,”[/color] Mark chanted, almost ritualistically, as he trudged his way across his studio apartment, making a beeline for his ever reliable addiction satisfier. It only took a few quick button presses for it to make those ever so sweet bubbling noises that promised that he would soon get his fix. He still had to show up to his bartending shift in a few hours, so a nap was unfortunately out of the question. And given how strange his dreams had been lately, coffee was an even more attractive alternative.

While he waited, Mark decided to plop down on his couch and turn on his TV, doing his best to keep his droopy eyes open. [color=mediumseagreen]”Oh, this is bad,”[/color] he muttered to himself, feeling the pull of sleep weighing on him even heavier now that he was getting comfortable.

[color=mediumseagreen]”You will not lay down,”[/color] he commanded himself, even though his body was already in the process of shifting its position to do just that.

[color=mediumseagreen]”You will not close your eyes,”[/color] he demanded with all the authority of an elementary school teacher that had lost control of his classroom. Needless to say, his eyes had already been closed before he spoke.

[color=mediumseagreen]”You will not…”[/color] this time his body beat him to the punch and disobeyed him before he could even get his plea out. Before he knew what happened, he was already drifting off.

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[center][h1][color=mediumseagreen][i]The Dreamworld[/i][/color][/h1][/center]

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There was something quite disheartening about finding himself behind the familiar wooden counter of Literati Coffee after having just left it. Not to mention he wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that even in his dreams he seemed to be doomed to work. Besides the cozy atmosphere the shop provided, Mark seemed to be trapped with a number of his regulars that he easily recognized. Well, that was of course except for [i]her[/i]. At just a glance he knew that he had never seen her before, but there was something about the confident way she carried herself that caused him to be drawn to her. Barely a word was exchanged between the two as she paid for her Caramel Frappe, and before he knew it she was already leaving.   

As the door jingled to announce her departure, everything around him evaporated in the blink of an eye, leaving him alone in a vast expanse of sheer white. Yeah, maybe calling these dreams weird was putting it lightly. Mark could only shrug at the thought, so with his hands in his pockets he started to stroll through the great emptiness, whistling along to a song that Emily had shown him. A more introspective mind would have tried to look at what kind of implications such an empty dreamscape might suggest about a person, but Mark was happy enough to turn his nose up to such a notion and continue walking on in peace. 

A playful fog rolled in and before he knew it, Mark’s stroll had taken him into a park of sorts. As he followed the path, he noticed a park bench coming up, which caused his whistling to die rather unceremoniously in his throat. Well, more specifically it was the person sitting at the bench, but you get the point. And as he got closer, he got a good view of the same girl that had caught his attention in the dream version of Literati dumping an untouched ice cream cone into the trash. An odd assortment of feelings washed over him as he drew closer to her, most of which he didn’t feel like categorizing at this exact moment. For now, he just wanted to see why he seemed so drawn in by her.

[color=mediumseagreen]”You know,”[/color] he said as he peered into the trashcan, almost feeling sorry for the poor frozen treat, [color=mediumseagreen]”I won’t judge you for wasting food as I’m not a huge fan of sweets myself, but I can’t help but ask why did you buy it in the first place if you didn’t want it?”[/color] he asked her playfully, leveling his amused expression at her.

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[@mskennedy615]