Jungkook was grumpy. That's what usually happens when you can't sleep because you got burned in a dream and it actually burned you in real life... right? It didn't help that he was refusing to think about how impossible this all really was, including how somewhere out there, someone else knew about the impossible burns. Maybe if he refused to think about it, he'd wake up from whatever stupidly long dream this was.

So he trudged miserably to work and had barely dropped his messenger bag onto his desk when Namjoon came his way, grabbing his bad arm and dragging him out. Pain blossomed under his bandage and Jungkook groaned.

"I know you don't want to go," Namjoon misunderstood, nevertheless letting go. "But these meetings are important. This one was red flagged too."

This time, Jungkook really did groan because of work.

"I hate these dumb, useless meetings," he grumbled, cradling his smarting hand to his chest as they took two adjacent chairs in the conference room.

"They're not always useless," the other countered, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"They literally never say anything new. I'll bet you anything you want that the rest of our year will be just as boring as the first half."

"Watch it," his silver-haired colleague warned, rubbing his hand over his temples. "You're going to curse us."

"Karma isn't a thing you big baby."

"Says Karma sarcastically, as it bites you in the ass."

Jungkook scoffed just as their boss walked in, a large folder tucked under her arm and an excited grin deforming her face. She dumped the file on the table the team was sat around, looking at each of her heads of department and fellow deputies. Jungkook could name no person present, and if he was honest he didn't exactly care. He recognised the PR chief, a serious man who was always bothering them loudly about brands being blurred out during editing. Apart from him and the ironically ever-silent head of the Music and Sound department, he knew no one.

They all turned their attention to the white board their boss stood next to as she flipped it over dramatically, revealing the writing on the back with an over-enthusiastic "Ta-daa!".

On the white surface, in large blue block letters was the title "TOP SECRET SUPER PROJECT". Underneath, pictures of actors and a basic story premise spelled out their doom. It was a superhero movie, meaning they would have to mix actual action shots and CGI. The project was a secret, so every task would be twice as tricky. And the main actor was an absolute movie newbie. It was a complete and utter nightmare.

They all groaned in unison, and Namjoon spun in his chair to glare at Jungkook, bringing his hands up to dramatically point at the plan as if to say: "See? I said you would bring us bad karma... idiot!"

***

~*~ The first thing Jungkook noticed when he came to, was that his hand no longer tingled with constant pain. As his eyelids slid open, he took in the bandages wrapped poorly around his fingers, noting that the blue curls of past flames still marred his skin. He frowned ever so slightly, before a burst of light followed by a veritable tsunami of sound enveloped him. He looked up, frightened, as the crowd around him cheered and whistled.

The street was brimming with people, bright colours painting the night and young children running around, holding hands or climbing up onto their parents' shoulders to look upon the undulating human ocean. Bunting stretched from tree to tree, weaving in and out of a web of fairy lights, green leaves shivering happily under the attention. The families around him were shuffling in a semi-circle, pressing up against a small wooden platform, eyes sparkling and eager as they looked up. Up on the stage, a man with soft blond hair and undistinguishable features was stood in silken clothes, brilliant light seeping through his skin.

Jungkook sighed a breath he didn't know he was holding in, like swimming and breaking through the surface to take in oxygen. He stood amidst the anonymous crowd, watching as the stranger spoke to the souls gathered around him. He thought now that he would recognise this aura anywhere; although it seemed fainter, slightly shadowed. It was still him though; the feeling of him was still the same, the warmth that spread through Jungkook's chest a familiar friend.

His voice was deep and smooth, and it captivated people like moths to a flame, pulling them in under his spell. He was the sun and they were pieces of rock floating aimlessly amidst the emptiness. Jungkook felt the gravitational pull more than anyone, yet his feet stayed rooted to the ground.

"Thank you all for listening," the man said, and Jungkook shivered at the deep timber. "I know it's unusual for someone like me to be busking on the street..."

This earned a few chuckles which his ghostly listener didn't even hear, so captivated was he by the nearly-visible lips. The stranger on stage paused, taking a deep breath of air and holding it in, like his body was fighting the effort.

"But I need your help," he finally uttered, and his shoulders seemed to sag in relief. "I have tried writing a different kind of music, and I need your opinion."

The crowd burst into a cacophony of whistles, encouragement and cheering. A small, shy smile made its way onto his face, as Jungkook's figures stretched into a grin. He barely knew the stranger, didn't know his name or even what he looked like, but he new his aura, his essence. It felt like he understood this man's very soul, and so his form filled with pride and exhilaration.

The man's lips twitched just a little higher.

"Okay then..." he barely whispered, and a hush fell over the crowd. "Here I go."

Absolute silence fell like a curtain, and above the mesh of listeners, Mother Fate blinked away a star-filled tear as an overwhelming feeling of peace washed over the humans and echoed in her soul. The stillness seemed to spread outside their packed circle, and wanderers walking by all seemed to freeze, traffic slowed to a slow undermined rumble. Amidst the gathering, Jungkook gasped as he watched the stranger pull a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, smooth it out and place it on the sheet holder above the portable piano. Blue flames danced from the paper, alike fairies playing with colours and light for the sake of beauty, invisible to the humans around them.

He knew this song; he had saved this song. His hand began to tingle, as if sensing some connection, some sister soul nearby. This was the song that had survived the fire; this was the song that had held its creators' soul in its pages.

Long, slender fingers came to rest on a keyboard, hesitation sinking it's fangs into the soft skin. Lost eyes looked up to the crowd, glancing into a melting pot of avid curiosity and patience. Amidst them, another soul lost in the crowd, Jungkook gathered all the courage he could muster, and his faith in his stranger overwhelmed him, the feelings tangible and tasting of cherries in his mouth. The man's shoulders twitched with newfound strength, and the fingers pressed down, light and feather-like.

The notes echoed in the night, bouncing off trees and lights and godly gowns made from ethereal matter. The sounds were short and playful and sorrowful, but as the stranger started singing, his long soulful words lifted the notes to further heights. Every one skipped across Jungkook's skin like pebbles ricocheting across a watery mirror, leaving warm ripples behind. His hand tingled. A woman next to him began to cry silently.

Further and further did the music stretch, floating above the men and women and children, until it reached far enough that the gods above could see no more movement anywhere down the street.

Even once it was finished, its remnants and taste danced in Jungkook's very being. Silence came to rest, and even the gods could speak no words.

A sob broke the silence, uncontainable. And suddenly, cheers and screams erupted and washed over the stage. Eyes full of wonder brushed over smiling faces, taking in the tears sported on nearly each and every face, trying to remember the roar of the crowd and the hundred of hands moving in unison. Lips parted in surprise breathed in the applause, his nervous tongue darting out to alleviate the rush of relief.

As one, both the man on stage and his triumphant young ghost let the emotions roll over them as they brought their hands up to their faces in perfect synchrony. Identical tears escaped through their fingers, hitting the floor in unison and exploding into a shower of cerulean sparks. Gasps erupted from above as Mother Fate suddenly burst into heavy sobs and Brother Future wrapped his arms around her, frowning worriedly at Universe over the top of her head.

"She'll be fine," Verse muttered without looking back at the pair of deities.

His fingers were splayed out, catching the azurean sparks as they rose through the air. He looked back at the human on stage and frowned.

"She's just overwhelmed," he continued, and Future looked back at him through gleaming ivory eyes. "Look."

Below them, unseen by either humans or ghostly dream figures, waves of sapphire light were escaping from the DreamCatcher, licking at the sky and kissing Mother Fate's bare feet. Unbeknownst to their host, the plumes of cobalt were rapidly shifting, metamorphosing into amethyst waves of firelight until all that was left was a bedazzling star of purple. It pulsed and grew, tinting the world around them, before it was absorbed in a flash by its earthling. The man's skin suddenly shone pure violet, his whole body glowing with ethereal light. Then it died down once more, asleep in its home.

From the crowd, the outline of the DreamSoul shot towards the sky, returning to his distant bed and leaving behind a sea of cheering and crying men and women. The gods remained, Future still holding onto a now sobbing yet glowing Fate.

"What just happened?" he blinked, lost, at the usually all-knowing Universe who was hovering mutely.

"DreamSouls have the ability to echo their feelings inside the others' heart," Fate near-whispered from the confines of his arms, fighting to stand straight under the weight of the event she had just witnessed. "So the DreamCatcher can't tell he's being influenced, and he'll probably embrace those feelings as his own... or go mad."

"Right," Universe added. "We've seen a few DreamCatchers go insane over the last few centuries, though it happens rarely."

"But what does that have to do with this situation?"

"It's simple really," Fate said, peering down at the artist on stage who was struggling to accept the passionate comments pooling in his ears. "The DreamSoul has fulfilled his destiny. Right there, at the beginning of the song, he was releasing such strong emotions that they took over the DreamCatcher entirely. For a few minutes, they were so in synch that the Catcher must have found a new path, which he would have otherwise missed. Don't you see any difference in him, Ture?"

His snowy iris roved over the scene below, peering into the nebulean mesh only visible to him, and from his pearly lips came words wrapped in amazement.

"He is on a different path than before. The path, which made him eligible for the Dreamscape, has disappeared."

"Entirely?" Universe gasped uncharacteristically, and Fate gaped at him.

"Yes, entirely. I can't tell exactly which new future he has now, but the colour is definitely different. And it is very, very bright, even by my standards."

"Does that mean they'll be separated now?" Fate asked, worrying her bottom lip. "Is the Dreamscape going to stop bringing them together now?"

The two deities gazed at her with something akin to pity in their otherworldly eyes. She truly loved the two souls; she had power which her companions could not truly understand, power that allowed her to see what could be, and through it she saw that they had swirling fates for her to play with and found that they were dismally cute. She'd hate to see them part.

"They should soon," Universe said not unkindly. "Unless this new future has brought on another equally painful fate, they will no longer meet in their dreams."

And so it was with mixed feelings as they watched the DreamCatcher below them come to grips with his newfound path. ~*~

***