I was in a crowd.
Like… literal crowd. As in, sobrang siksikan. My hair was already sticking to my lip gloss, my heels were killing me, and someone's glow stick just poked my rib.
And yet, there i was. Gripping my phone, screaming like the rest of them.
"KENNNN!!!" someone shouted.
Wait, was that… me?
Did i just?
No. I don't even know a Ken. What?
The lights exploded in blinding neon and blue. A guy he's tall, sweaty, insanely good-looking, and wearing this ridiculously sparkly jacket ran to center stage. The crowd went feral. Feral as in, they-will-eat-you-alive-if-you-even-blink levels of intense.
And him?
He looked right at me.
No.
Wait. No, no, no.
He definitely just looked at me.
I froze.
What the f—
"Cass!"
I turned.
He said my name.
"Cass!" he called out again, eyes searching, like… like he knew me.
Then—
I woke up.
from the weirdest dream of my life.
Like… I'm talking full production value, Dolby Atmos, and Oscar-worthy cinematography type of dream.
There were bright lights, screaming fans, neon signs, and a guy. Not just any guy, this guy had bleached hair, glowy skin, and the face of someone who probably had his own merch. He was standing under a spotlight, wearing an in-ear monitor and looking directly at me. Like, dead into my soul.
And then he said, with the most dramatic K-drama intensity ever:
"Cass"
HUH?
I sat up in bed like i just got possessed. My blanket tangled around my legs, my hair looked like it got into a fight with a leaf blower, and my lip gloss from last night was now somewhere on my forehead.
"Who the hell is Ken?" I whispered to myself.
No answer. Just me, my aircon, and the sound of my dignity slowly evaporating.
Was i dreaming about a P-Pop boyband?
I don't even LIKE boybands. No offense to all the screaming teenage hormones out there, but I was more of a... silent, bitter, emotionally constipated type of fan.
Also who the heck is NOVA5? Are they vitamins?
I shook my head. "Whatever. Just a dream."
I dragged myself out of bed like a dehydrated Victorian child recovering from a fever. My plan? Make food. Something fancy. Maybe scrambled eggs. Or cereal. Depends on what was still alive in my fridge.
I took three steps toward the kitchen… then stopped.
What are eggs supposed to smell like? Is that… normal?
Nope. Not today. We're not risking salmonella for ✨personal growth✨.
"Let's just go out," I mumbled to myself, adjusting my robe and grabbing my purse. My hair was in a claw clip, barely hanging on like my will to live.
Just as i reached for the doorknob—
BOOM.
My soul left my body.
I froze mid-step. "What. The. Hell. Was. That?"
Another loud BZZZT! followed by a pop, like someone just fried a Transformer from Robots the Movie: Condo Edition.
"OH MY GOD," I screamed, full volume. "IS SOMEONE BLOWING UP THE BUILDING?!"
Without thinking, I sprinted to the hallway barefoot, robe flying, heart pounding like a telenovela theme song. I banged on the door next to mine.
It opened after two knocks.
And standing there…
Was HIM.
Bleached hair, sleepy eyes, oversized shirt, and a look on his face that said, "Who woke me from the nap of the century?"
"Hi," he said, voice low, face blank. "Can i help you?"
I blinked at him.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
It's Ken.
From my dream.
I should've screamed. Or fainted. Or asked for an autograph?
Instead, I said:
"Excuse me, sir, but WHAT EXPLODED IN YOUR UNIT?"
Ken blinked.
"Nothing exploded."
"Liar," I snapped. "I heard a BOOM."
He stared at me, clearly trying not to roll his eyes. "I just woke up."
I squinted. "You woke up and blew something up?"
He exhaled and leaned against the doorframe, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment. "Are you always this dramatic?"
"Excuse me, I am not dramatic. I am emotionally articulate."
Then it hit me.
My eyes widened. "WAIT."
I bolted back into my unit.
A cloud of smoke greeted me.
"OH MY GOD."
I dropped to the floor, army crawling to my bedroom like a deranged action star.
And there it was. The culprit.
My cheap, pastel pink powerbank. Smoking like it just came back from hell.
I grabbed my phone and called the condo emergency hotline, full panic mode. "HI YES. THIS IS UNIT 23-B. MY ROOM IS ON FIRE. I REPEAT, THERE IS A FIRE. SEND THE BRIGADE. SEND! send…,THE HOSE. SEND EVERYTHING."
I ran back into the hallway screaming, "I NEED WATER! MY ROOM IS—"
"Your room is not on fire."
I turned.
Ken was standing there, completely unbothered. Holding a mug. In slippers.
"Your powerbank just short-circuited," he said. "Calm down."
"Easy for you to say, Mr. My-Face-Is-Made-of-Angels. My curtains were almost flammable!"
He looked at my curtains.
"They're polyester."
I blinked. "So?"
He sipped his coffee. "Polyester doesn't catch fire. It melts."
I dramatically put my hand on my forehead. "I COULD HAVE MELTED TO DEATH."
At that point, two security guards showed up, slightly out of breath.
"Ma'am, where's the fire?"
I pointed to my room. "In my soul."
Ken audibly snorted behind his cup.
The guards went in. Two minutes later, they came out looking… tired.
"False alarm," one muttered. "Just a… smoking gadget. Probably overcharged."
I stared at them. "But there was smoke."
"From your powerbank."
"Oh."
They left.
I stood in the hallway, still barefoot, hair in chaos, robe slightly open like i just stormed out of a soap opera scene.
Ken glanced at me.
"You're new here?"
I crossed my arms. "I've lived here for three weeks."
He nodded. "Figures."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ken gave me the smallest, most deadpan smirk i've ever seen in my life. "Next time, check your own appliances before screaming at your neighbors."
He turned, walked back inside, and shut the door.
I stood there for a good ten seconds.
Mouth open.
Ego bruised.
Heart… slightly confused.
And then i whispered, in full dramatic flair:
"…Who does he think he is?"
No answer.
Only the quiet hum of my roasted dignity.
And why do i feel like…
I've known him forever?