Author's Note: I went on vacation for 4th of July to NYC and Had an expanding idea on the 5 hr bus ride over. Thank you, Ripper 101, I'm glad you approve of Mia and I like your idea about going from different individual's perspectives, but for now I'm going to stick to this, and thank you Moonjava (that you found it better than expected ;)) and thank you Ri, Nugrey, Midnight Lady, babs, and asn water.

Reality?

It had been over a week since my encounter with that man in the park. But time did nothing to dull my memory. But there was no one I could tell my story too without being laughed at – not even my best friend, Kay. I went about my usual routine, working my eight hours, eating lunch at a cafeteria or the small string of restaurants down the street, and going home to watch television before showering and going to bed. I needed to get my hair trimmed.

With a satisfied hum, I began cleaning up my workspace. I had closed a good deal this week, possibly enough to catch the boss's eye for a raise – or vacation time. Lord knows that I needed one. I congratulated myself with a Starbucks mint chocolate frappachino. Their drinks are always so overpriced, but so annoyingly good.

This time it was almost as if he were waiting for me, lounging on the bench where I met him and playing with a white feather. I saw him just as I rounded the bend to enter the park and hesitated. This was clearly a man with issues. Did I really want to put up with him?

But how did he know my name? How did he disappear in a park full of open spaces?

Unless he flew up a tree. I thought to myself sarcastically. Squaring my shoulders, I marched over to the bench. He didn't even have the grace to look at me as I approached and just stated flatly,

"You lied."

My anger was pulled up short. "'scuse me?"

Twirling the feather in his fingers, he elaborated. "You said if I was honest, then she would believe me, but she didn't. She just accused me of being jealous that she won the game."

Well you clearly are, but there seems to be more to it.

"Look," I pushed some wayward hair behind one ear. "I just gave you some advice – it didn't mean that you had to use it, or even that it would work."

"You only made things worse. She yelled at me, and now won't even answer my call."

I rolled my eyes at his sulkiness. "Sorry, but I don't think it's really my fault."

"Well this is."

I glared at him, lounging on the bench wearing a strange outfit of and emerald green silk shirt untucked over brown leather pants. The shirt was full of rips that had been repaired with bits of black. The stark blond hair that still stuck up every which-way had a green tint to it. I couldn't help wondering if he had gone swimming and didn't wash out the chlorine. "Look buddy, don't think I've forgotten what you pulled the last time we met. How the heck did you know my name, and what on Earth did you throw at me?"

He sprang to his feet and bit out. "Do not speak to me like that."

I should have been frightened, and perhaps I was, but his attitude was too irritating. Who was he that he thought he could act so superior? "Speak to you like what? I have a right to know. I've been nothing but nice, trying to help a complete stranger, and now I'm the one who messed up your relationship?"

His eyes were burning and I took a step back. "You have no idea who I am, do you."

"No, but I'll bet your girlfriend does and that's why she shot you down." I turned and began walking away, mad at him for making me this up-tight, and mad at myself for letting him get under my skin.

"Doesn't it bother you anymore, Mai," his voice saying my name turned something in my chest cold. "Doesn't it bother you at night that you no longer have dreams – that your expectations are only those which others set out for you?"

I spun on my heel, hands clenched. How could he know that? How could he know that I worried at night that I never seemed to dream – not even the dull, daily memories which I'd heard other talk about. Not even nightmares. Sure I was good at my job, but I had nothing else to do. The accuracy of his question made me tremble, but the violation of privacy had me up in arms. "You stay away from me or so help me, I'll go to the police."

He laughed. "And tell them what?"

"Everything."

He smiled toothily. "My dear girl, they'll be more interested in your mental state than in finding me."

Frustrated, I waved my hand at him in a shoo-ing motion. "Go away. Do that trick you did earlier. I don't know why or how you came to me, or know my name when I don't know yours, but I want nothing to do with you."

"I can give them back."

I looked up, startled. "What?"

He was holding something in his hand. Idly I glanced at the ground, looking for the white feather. Instead, he held a glass sphere, like a piece of décor. In one deft movement, he rolled it over to the back of his hand, down his arm, and smoothly transferred it to the fingertips of his other hand. A pretty move, and almost hypnotizing. He held it out to me.

"I can give you back your dreams."

I raised an eyebrow and began laughing. "How many times have you rehearsed that line?"

His jaw clenched and he closed his fist around the glass ball. It shattered into a burst of the same sparkles as he had produced before. "Do not take me so lightly. I have never offered back something I have taken. Usually I make the contestant win them back."

"So what makes me so special?"

"Your denial of the truth interests me. You want to believe, but you will not let yourself."

"Believe what? You never make sense! Why, out of everyone in this city – in this world besides that girlfriend of yours who I'm beginning to pity – have you chosen me to torment?"

He stared at me pensively, the sinking sun illuminating his sharp features in such a way that I was reminded of some bird of prey. The anger and cold playfulness left his voice and was replaced with what was almost pity. "You really do not remember? This world has been harsher to you than I realized."

I habitually twisted a ring on my right hand. I tended to do it when I was nervous or bored. "Stop with the word games, mister."

He circled me once, boots scuffing the walkway and then turned his head to the side, watching me. "You were young, I grant you that. But you had such promise. You fought with such spirit."

I frantically scanned my memory of ever meeting such a vague and ungrounded individual and came up with nothing. I decided to stick to my indignant responses and crossed my arms. "If you don't come to some point right now, I'm going to leave."

His next question threw me again. "What do you remember about your sister?"

My heart plunged to my stomach. "My sister?"

"Yes, what was her name… Min, I believe. Such a charming young girl with so much curiousity."

Asking how he knew all this seemed like a moot point by now. "She died when I was nine. She was six. It was a car accident."

"But before that."

Before? What was he talking about? We had been typical siblings, rivals and best friends all in one. Her death had frightened me. I learned about death when all I had been concerned about was what to do the next day. I learned that at some point in my life, there would never be a next day. He answered his own question.

"You had a party for your birthday. Some friends came over to spend the night. She would not leave you alone, so you were angry."

"Mom put her to bed."

"But this was later."

"We were telling ghost stories."

"And she came into your room, and you said something."

I frowned, hating the smug look on his face. We had been telling stories and Min had come in to try and join us. We were talking about ghosts, goblins, and zombies. My friends Kay, Jess, and Zoe were there – and Jess's friend Sarah.

"What did you do, Mai?"

"I got mad at her, I yelled something, and she went to her room crying. End of story."

He smiled, mis-matched eyes glowing. "That was just the beginning." He sighed and drew another glass sphere from some pocket. "It gives me great hope that children are still able to believe in fairy tales. But then, it is just as disappointing when you forget so easily."

"She died two nights later. I haven't had a dream since then. I don't want to."

"Oh you don't?"

He tossed the sphere at me again. This time I refused to catch it, and it hit me in the chest with a faint pop. A strange sensation rushed through me, an electric buzz that numbed all my senses, and then it was gone and so was he.

Author's Note: There you have it – at least for now. Please continue to leave your opinions and suggestions!