“THE DREAM THAT SHOULD’NT FEEL GOOD”
677 Words
Act 2, Scene 15
Setting: Taeyang’s apartment, past midnight. Rain still taps against the window. The room is dimly lit by the soft blue glow of the streetlight outside. Silence, except for the sound of breathing… and something else.
⸻
(Taeyang lies twisted in his sheets. His chest rises and falls unevenly, lips parted. His brows are furrowed. Sweat clings to his temple despite the cold air. His breathing is shallow — too shallow for someone just sleeping.)
⸻
(Dream sequence — flickering and fragmented)
Hands gripping his wrists. Hot breath at his ear. A low voice whispering,
“I still like you, hyung.”
Then teeth — biting his lower lip, dragging slowly down his throat.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t want this.”
His body arches in the dark, pleasure and guilt twined together. Fingers tug at his waistband. His own voice echoing,
“No—wait… I—”
But he doesn’t stop it.
He never stops it.
⸻
(A sharp intake of breath. Taeyang wakes up — jerking upright like he’s drowning in air. His eyes are wide. His throat tight. His chest heaving.)
⸻
TAEYANG (muttering to himself)
Shit…
⸻
(He runs his hand down his face, blinking rapidly. The room is quiet, still. He’s alone — but it doesn’t feel like it. His heart is thudding like footsteps in a stairwell. He glances toward the window. The curtain flutters slightly — just the wind. Still…)
⸻
TAEYANG (V.O.)
Why… Why does this keep happening?
That dream again.
That face again.
Lee Yeon’s voice…
⸻
(He pulls the covers off his body. Sweat dampens the inside of his shirt. He throws it aside and paces the room barefoot, grabbing a water bottle and chugging half of it in one go.)
⸻
TAEYANG (V.O.)
It was just a dream.
That’s all it was.
Just a memory… twisted up in my subconscious.
That’s normal.
…Right?
⸻
(But as he moves, he notices something strange. The curtain he always closes before bed — it’s slightly parted. His spine stiffens. His eyes snap to the window. From where he stands, across the street, the rooftop is empty now. Nothing there.)
⸻
(A slow chill curls around his neck.)
⸻
TAEYANG (V.O.)
I know I locked that window.
I know I closed those blinds.
So why do I feel like someone was—
⸻
(A noise. Soft. Almost nothing. A faint click. Taeyang turns sharply, heart slamming against his ribs — but it’s just the fridge settling. He exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his damp hair.)
⸻
(He walks to the window, slowly. Opens it just enough to hear the rain outside. Listens. Nothing but the wind. No footsteps. No breathing. And yet…)
⸻
TAEYANG (V.O.)
This can’t be real.
I’m being paranoid.
It’s probably just my dreams messing with me.
My guilt.
⸻
(He closes the window again, locks it. Then turns to face the room — and stops.)
His eyes fall to the desk where his journal sits. Right where he left it. But… the page is open. He always closes it. Always.)
⸻
*(Taeyang walks toward it slowly, like approaching a wild animal.)
He picks it up, flips through. There, on one page, an entry from last week:
“I always go to Kiss & Tell when I want to be alone. Their rooftop view helps me breathe.”
Underlined twice.
He closes the journal quickly. Hands trembling just slightly.)*
⸻
TAEYANG (V.O.)
No one knows I go there.
No one but me.
So how did he…?
⸻
(His knees weaken. He sinks into the edge of the bed. He puts his face in his hands and exhales slowly — but it comes out shaky. His skin prickles like eyes are still on him.)
⸻
TAEYANG (softly)
Lee Yeon…
What the hell are you doing?
⸻
(His head lifts slightly. Lightning flashes again. His reflection stares back at him from the window — but for just a second, he thinks he sees another face behind his. Watching. Waiting. Loving him from the shadows.)
- Writer
