1334 North Beechwood Drive, Hollywood, California:

Mike hadn't slept much that night. Even though he was exhausted, he just couldn't seem to stay asleep.

He didn't quite know how to describe them. They weren't quite nightmares, they weren't quite dreams either. He had no idea what they were. Just flashing images, almost like a memory or a vision of some kind. It was blurry and surreal, he couldn't make out most of what was happening, except for the music in the background. He could hear the sound of a guitar strumming and a voice, a melody.

He groaned and looked over, making sure he wasn't waking the other three as he made his way downstairs. He hummed the melody from his mind or what he was able to remember of it.

It was a strange experience, he had to admit, but he only chose to focus on the music. Sitting down with his guitar, he sang it to himself, trying to work out the details of the melody and the chords to accompany it.

The more he played, the more familiar the tune began to sound. It had an almost folk bluegrass vibe to it, so it was a tune he could've easily picked up from when he was a kid. That would explain its familiarity. He couldn't recall any of the words, however, that was the one thing he couldn't remember. Maybe it didn't have any words. That's why Mike couldn't remember them, because the lyrics had never existed.

Still he could hear the music echoing in his head, the melody and guitar overshadowing the words, if there were any. After a minute or so of tinkering, he was able to find the chords to the part he remembered. G, C, D, G. It was simpler than it had sounded.

"New song?" A voice asked behind him, causing him to jump up in surprise.

"Oh, Peter," Mike let out a sigh of relief. "It's just you."

"Sorry," Peter whispered, going toward him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," Mike said, trying to get the melody back under his fingers.

"Is that a new song?" Peter asked again.

"Or an old one," Mike said with a slight shrug. "Does it sound familiar to you, too?"

He sang the melody and played the chords he thought went with it, looking to Peter for any sort of recognition in his eyes. He got none.

"No," Peter sighed. "It's pretty though. I like it. And I'd love to hear it once you've worked on it a little bit more."

Mike smiled slightly.

"Thanks," he whispered, taking his guitar strap off.

He looked down, thinking about it before speaking up again.

"Peter?" He asked. "Do you ever…?"

Mike couldn't bring himself to finish that question. Honestly because he had no idea what he wanted to say.

"What is it?" Peter asked in a soft and worried tone. Mike sighed and shook his head.

"Just a weird dream," he muttered to himself, placing his guitar back on its stand. "And that song was in it."

"Oh," he shrugged. "Well, dreams can tell a lot about ourselves and a lot about the world that we wouldn't be able to make sense of."

Mike turned to him, confused as to where Peter was going with the statement.

"Maybe you could talk about your dreams?" He suggested and Mike let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"It was just a song," he said with a shrug, choosing only to talk about that. "I just heard it in the dream, and I needed to know what it was."

"Oh," Peter nodded. "Well, what was it?"

Mike sighed.

"It was nothing," he muttered. "It was just…it sounded familiar when I actually heard it out loud."

"Maybe it was," Peter shrugged and Mike wanted to tell him more. But the topic changed before he was ready to speak again. Suddenly, Peter stood and looked into the kitchen, trying to find the clock.

"What time is it?" He asked and Mike sighed, dropping everything he had wanted to say and going into the kitchen himself.

"It's almost 6," he said, turning on the light. "Did you need something?"

Peter thought about it for a moment before it hit him.

"Water," he said, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with water.

Mike smiled as Peter told him "good night" before going back to bed.

"Good night Peter," he said, long after his friend was already gone. Mike picked up his guitar again, finger picking the melody, thinking to himself. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head, ignoring whatever questions and feelings the song brought up. Instead, he went back upstairs and laid down in his bed, trying to ignore the tune that kept playing in his head.