The following week was mellow compared to the hectic previous week of curating. Although the business partners still had work to do, there were restful periods during the day where they could relax.

This period, however, didn't feel as relaxing to Alana Walters. This was because when she wasn't doing anything, she would often catch herself thinking about Friday night. Her thoughts specifically wandering toward the enigma of the man in Armani. Karla's boss, Lylas.

Alana couldn't exactly understand why she couldn't get him off her mind. Was it his attractive aura? He had practically glared at her throughout the whole encounter last Saturday. So she shouldn't pay head to that sort of arrogant person. However her mind wouldn't stop.

This inner turmoil with herself made her frustrated. She would never meet that person ever again, although she had Karla's business card for his company. Alana couldn't see herself contacting Karla. She stopped herself from doing so, because deep down, Alana knew the reason she wanted to get in contact with Karla was for the chance of seeing him again. This would be very wrong and unfair for her friend.

And so, for the rest of the week she decided to dedicate all her efforts and thoughts into working.

By Friday night, Jake and Pam invited her out, since they never really celebrated the success of last week. They went clubbing and Alana went all out for that night. By the time she called it a night, she was too drunk for sense.

Pam and Jake had been reluctant to let her go. However, seeing how intoxicated the usually faultless Alana was, they decided to hail her a taxi and implored the driver to make sure she got home safely.

The minute Alana entered her flat, she tottered drunkenly toward her bedroom. The tight dress was discarded immediately and she didn't have time to slip into her pyjamas when she slumped into her bedsheets.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, she was out the minute her head hit the pillow.

The dream entered her subconscious the minute her mind entered REM sleep...

In the dream, Alana found herself standing in middle of the forest. The leaves and grass of this forest were auburn red, indicating the bloom of autumn. She didn't know why but the urge to hurry pulsated through her. She was here because she had a purpose. And that purpose was to find some fruits or any edibles amongst barren trees. She had to return before sunset.

As she coursed through the dense forest for any edibles, it didn't take long to encounter ripe persimmon fruits. Some had fallen and got spoilt on the ground, however some of juiciest still remained rooted on the branches. She gathered these ripe fruit using a stick to ease down the branches. And then shoved sixteen of them on the pockets of her sleeves.

She then rushed her way back to where she came from, the urge to hurry before the sun set making her feet move faster. The dense forest began to channel into a soil road and she merged on this path.

A few meters away, there was a house-like cabin waiting for her. She saw the pile of smoke mingling with the air from the chimney and her heart pulsated faster. Somehow she knew what this smoke meant.

It meant he was back. Back on time as he had promised. She began running toward the wooden house, her shrilling voice calling out for him.

"Is it you?" She asked as she dashed for the entrance door. The house was warmly lit and cosy compared to the blankness state she had left it in earlier.

He emerged from the threshold of the kitchen and her heart beat quickened as if it was the first time seeing him.

"You have returned?" His deep voice uttered. Then he opened his arms, beckoning her over.

Her glee reached her toes as she quickly ran into his hug.

It was at this point that Alana felt herself slowly dissociating. As if her soul was suddenly leaving her body. She watched as the scene alter into a blur once she became aware that she was dreaming.

The blurry body she had dissociated from reached the man with dark hair and dark clothes. Alana watched their bleared bodies embracing for a while and felt a strange prickling all over her body. It was a very weird feeling. Because at that moment she felt as if she were the one in his arms.

The man then leaned down to the woman's ears and whispered something. Alana felt her ears tingling, as if a warm breath had tickled her ears. However, no matter how much she strained to hear and see, she couldn't for the life of her make out what he had said and what he looked like.

There was something oddly familiar about the two people she was watching. Alana felt at a plight as she tried to gather how, when and where she could have seen these people in order for them to feel familiar to her.

All of a sudden, the air in the dream shifted, as if cold ice was encased all over it. This sudden air made her shudder with fright.

Alana turned around and startled when she saw a man in front of her. It took a while of studying him for her to realise this was the same person she met at the Gallery function last week. The man that plagued her every thought this past week. The man whom was her friend, Karla's boss. Lylas.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her accusingly, his ever glaring mass prominent.

Alana sighed, feeling disappointed that even in her dream he was scowling.

"Its my dream, you're just a figment of my subconscious, and shouldn't be asking me this..." She replied.

"No." He countered. "This is my dream portal. How could, a mere mortal such as yourself, have managed to even slip in?"

Alana frowned to herself, "Dream portal?" She questioned, genuinely confused and curious about what he could be possibly saying.

It was such a strange dream to be having. But then again all her life her dreams have never been normal. Nevertheless, there was something about this certain dream that felt very odd.

Was this what they called a lucid dream? She wondered.

"Yes, a dream portal..." Lylas answered her. "...created from her strongest sentiments and memories. No one but me and her can enter it." He pointed behind her.

Alana looked back at the scene she had left behind. Shock rooted her speechless. The figures that had been glossed over—as if stained with water running down glass—were now as clear as day.

Although clear, Alana couldn't see the features of this woman he pointed at. Only the back of her long silver hair accompanied with a diamond pearl crest wrung around her head. The greyish white dress robe and skirt she was wearing looked ancient and expensive, as if they were made of one hundred percent silk and satin material.

The silver hair on the woman perturbed her for a moment before she suddenly made a connection. Could this be the same woman from her art piece? The woman in a field of snow? The same painting he was so adamant on getting last week. The art piece she regretted not keeping since a crazy person like him had bought it for such a ridiculous amount of money from a third party. Alana couldn't know for sure, since she couldn't see that person's features.

This, however, wasn't what had made her awestruck. It was seeing the man whom was facing toward them—as he hugged that woman—that astounded her. She could see this man's features clearly and that man was the exact replica of the one standing and talking beside her. Lylas.

Alana rubbed her eyes and pinched herself for good measure. Was she too somnolent that she was seeing double? Maybe she was envisioning it all. It was after all just a dream.

"That person is you?"

"Yes." He replied.

"How?" She asked in stupefaction.

"It's my past self, exactly fifteen thousand years ago." He told her. There was a pain she couldn't decipher in his tone and eyes. As if watching the couple in front of them brought him immense agony.

"Fifteen thousand years ago?" Alana echoed.

She knew her dreams had always been abnormal growing up, but to conjure such a dream with a backstory for him was too surreal for her to even imagine, let alone dream it.

"How am I dreaming this?" Alana muttered to herself.

"You're not dreaming it...this is my dream." He told her.

"I don't understand, why and how I am in your dream then?"."

"Of course you don't, you are just a mortal... when you wake up, you'll have forgotten this ever happened..."

Alana suddenly panicked hearing this statement. And through her panic she grabbed Lylas hand. She hadn't a clue where the courage had came from. However, she lived life seizing moments. This moment to Alana was just an odd but thrilling dream she was having. And in this dream, she told herself she would take full advantage of the situation. In reality she would never again meet this person. And since he said she won't remember this dream, the desire to touch him overtook practicality.

Alana felt the instant warmth of his palm against hers for a that mere second before he flinched from her touch. The warmth of his hand felt so real, it brought her pulse to a spike.

Did she judge wrongly then Was it not really her dream? How could he feel so real to touch?

"Who are you?" He asked her, his eyes were on the hand she had grabbed. The look on his face as if she had contaminated him.

The way he looked down at her—with his deep glaring expression—the slight puzzlement ingrained in his eyes made it seem as if he was asking himself that question.

Alana felt submerged in his eyes instantly. Although his expression was unpleasant, there was something about his eyes that was drawing her in.

She opened her mouth, about to remind him that they met at the gallery function last week, the artist of the painting he purchased, when he suddenly waved his hand in front of her face.

Something gold and shining twirled in front of her eyes. It beckoned, entranced and made her even more lethargic.

Her last thought was of regret before she fell into a burst of unconsciousness. Regret that she couldn't spend more time with him in this weird but pleasant dream.

***

Saturday mornings were sacred to Alana Walters. As sacred as Buddha to monks. This was her precious time to relax and have a lie in: either with a good book in hand or a tv show on play. Nevertheless, today the second she woke up, she was afflicted with the urge to paint. She felt tormented. Tormented by the dream she couldn't recall.

She sat in her painting room across from her bedroom with a blank canvas mounted, paints arranged and paintbrush in hand. However still, all she could do was trace the foggy faint outline of a face she thought she saw in her dream.

Alana felt at an impasse. As if something very important was missing and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what.

Another twenty minute of frustration passed by before she was saved by the ringtone of her blaring phone.

The caller was an unknown number and as she picked up, Alana was surprised to hear a familiar voice. It was Karla and she wanted them to have breakfast together. The time and place was already arranged and booked. All Alana had to do was get ready and drive there.

Since the whether was still too hot for this country, Alana decided to wear the same blue denim shorts she wore last week, with a sleeveless white crop top and white All Stars. She topped this with a baby pink flannel shirt in which she wrapped around her waist. Just in case it got chilly later on wards. You never knew with this unpredictable bipolar whether.

For her face, she didn't bother with make-up. Alana was one of those people that were blessed with natural clear skin and striking features: a perpetual pale face against her stark dark brown almond shaped eyes and pinkish full lips.

For her neck-length black hair, she tied some strands off her face and left a fringe to cover the annoying mole on her forehead.

Before she grabbed her keys on the wall, she made sure nothing electrical was left on. After double checking everything, Alana then darted out of her door and headed straight to her car, thankful for choosing the ground floor from this three storey flat.

Alana entered the famous elite cafè feeling out of place by the poshness of the interior. Even the servers looked more expensive than she was. The waiter greeting her bore a doubtful look as he saw her attire. However, since he was on the job, his customer service was pristine and established.

As he escorted her to where Karla was waiting for her, Alana attracted watchful disapproving eyes from onlookers as she walked by table after table. This further enhanced the unwelcome feeling.

There was one table that Alana felt an extremely uncomfortable rise in temperature as she passed. This temperature felt as if it was boiling her vital innards and destabilising her system. She felt a quick compression puncturing through her head, as if someone struck her head with a bolt of electricity, thus making her head ring with constant pain. This pain, however, was gone as she soon she passed that certain table.

Her eyes met with a deadly stare that could incinerate one into ashes on the spot. The ominous bloodthirsty expression on such a handsome face made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Whoever this person was, Alana was alerted to the impending danger.

She didn't know how she could tell, but her intuition was sending booming signals to be cautious. Especially when that person smirked so evilly at her distressed expression.

"Finally you're here?" Karla rose from her seat to greet her with a welcoming smile.

Alana wrought her gaze away from the danger two seats away, telling herself she was over analysing again. She decided to concentrate on reuniting with her long lost best friend. She smiled at Karla and asked how her morning was and whether she had already ordered.

"I have," Karla replied her latter enquiry. "And I ordered you your favourite full English breakfast."

"I'm glad you remembered." Alana commented genuinely surprised.

Karla looked hurt by her comment. "How could I not remember? We were practically sisters in Mann, Lana."

Alana smiled gleefully hearing her childhood nickname from Karla. She was suddenly wrought with a flashback of her adolescent years where she used to be adamant on going by "Lana" instead of her full name. Overtime as she grew older, it confused people why she would disown her beautiful unique name to such a basic one. And thus she discarded the nickname and owned up to her full name.

After the food was neatly placed on their table with the appropriate utensils, Alana took a bite of her toast while Karla spooned her porridge.

"So, tell me," Alana began suddenly after a few minutes of contemplating whether it was appropriate to ask her friend this. Curiosity was making her very impatient and she needed to know.

"...when and how did you fall in love with your boss?"

Karla coughed, almost choking on her mouthful of porridge. A blush stained her cheek as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Her watchful eyes were bulging at Alana's daring question.

"Is it that obvious?" Karla seemed mortified.

Alana's nose crinkled as she tried to hide in her smirk. She nodded in reply.

Karla slumped back on her seat, dabbed her blushing cheeks with the back of her hands and pouted. "Well then...you'll be the first to have noticed and made a remark on it."

"Does he not know?" Alana asked leaning forward.

Karla sighed in affirmation. "My boss is...he is someone too busy and occupied to be concerned for such mire matters."

Alana frowned. "How long have you known him?"

"Three years?"

Alana felt dread enter her heart. They had history. This feeling unsettled her. She quenched it quickly before she could questioned what it meant.

"That long and he still doesn't know?"

"It's unrequited. He doesn't know how I feel about him and unless I truly confess, he will never know..." Karla told her truthfully before she added, "...Alana, please I'd like to keep it that way...I'm truly happy as long as I'm by his side."

A concern wrinkled Alana's expression. "You're happy that way even if he never knows?" Alana couldn't understand it.

Although she'd never fallen for anyone nor experienced that heart-pacing and gut-wrenching feeling of love everyone talked of. She was very sure if she ever did fall in love with someone, she will let that person know soon as she realised.

Karla nodded.

Alana contemplated on Karla words and tried to understand this meaning of love.

Karla saw her reflecting state and smiled. "Unless, you're in my shoes, Alana, if I try to explain you'll never get it."

It was a very arrogant thing to say, but she was right.

Alana was contemplating some more, when Karla's spoon suddenly clashed and cluttered on the porcelain bowl. Her face blanched, however her eyes were filled with horror and warning as she stared in panic at Alana.

The ominous feeling returned as the air of the cafe shifted. Alana felt as if she was in dreamful daze, watching as everyone stopped their movements. What was more disconcerting was how even inanimate objects defied gravity by being suspended mid-air.

Everyone and everything stood at a stand still, as if someone had stopped time and forgot about her.

Then it happened so quick, Alana thought she imagined it all. The man she saw earlier with a death on his eyes stood up and in seconds was in front of her as if he'd flown. A sinister smirk played on the corner of his lips. If it were not for the malice in his eyes, Alana would have appreciated his handsome features.

"I knew you couldn't be a normal mortal... the scent of your soul enticed me as soon as you walked in." He spoke, his voice tinged with deep hoarse tone that made her shudder.