The train station's layout was a maze of platforms, corridors, and escalators, all brimming with people rushing to and fro. It seemed to move at an accelerated pace. It was a hub of activity, with people from all walks of life rushing around, each with a different purpose and destination in mind.

 The atmosphere was charged with a sense of urgency. The loudspeaker announced the arrival and departure of trains, while the steady hum of conversations fills the air. The clanking of luggage, the shuffling of feet, and the incessant beeps of electronic ticket machines add to the symphony of noises. 

In the midst of the disarray and commotion, I calmly approached the vendor and exchanged ten dollars for the cupcake key chain I had purchased for my father. As she handed me my change, I could not help but notice a familiar face on the cover of a nearby Daily Buzz magazine. It was Ray. 

Upon reflecting on my recent job rejection, I couldn't help but wonder if my true intentions for being in this industry were perhaps not pure. It dawned on me that my ultimate goal all along was to cross paths with Ray again. I couldn't deny that our encounter years ago had left an indelible mark on my mind, and I couldn't shake off the memory of the bold girl who stole my first kiss. My motive for pursuing this career may have been clouded by my personal desires, and maybe that is why I did not get hired.

After thanking the saleswoman, I made my way to the train platform, my heart heavy with disappointment. Despite the long journey, I always chose to travel to Bridgeport by train, as it was my preferred mode of transportation. The rhythmic sound of the train moving along the tracks and the passing scenery were some of my favorite aspects of train travel. The journey back home would take over one and a half hour by train compared to just one thirty minutes by plane. 

I was hesitant to call my father and deliver the disappointing news that I did not get the job. Letting him down was the last thing I wanted to do. I let out a sigh and fumbled for my cell phone, feeling the weight of exhaustion from waking up early to make it to the interview on time.

I yearned for nothing more than a steaming hot bath to soothe my weary body. The thought of immersing myself in warm water and then climbing into bed was a comforting one, as I hoped it would help erase the disappointment that had plagued me throughout the day.

“Is it okay if I sit here?" someone asked.

When I lifted my gaze from my bag, I noticed a woman standing in front of me. She was wearing a heather grey and black Adidas cap, pulled down low over her face as if she were trying to hide from the world. I narrowed my eyes slightly. 

“I must be more exhausted than I realized because if you are, then I must be dreaming," I mumbled, feeling disoriented. "This is a dream, isn’t it?”

"Do I dare assume you have dreams of me?”Ray asked, settling down next to me. 

I could speak truthfully if this were all just a dream. 

“Yes, every night," I replied with a solemn tone. Ray's smile vanished as a shadow cast over her face, altering the warm and pleasantness of her expression. 

"Does this sadden you?" I asked. "Should I not dream about you?"

The prospect of being told that one had no right to dream about another person could evoke a sense of overwhelming despair and hopelessness. If such words were to be uttered to me by Ray, I fear that my very existence would become futile. 

"I am saddened by the pain I hear in your voice," Ray expressed. "I crave to consume your every thought, to be the sole distraction in your mind. I long to disrupt you so profoundly that you cannot help but be consumed by thoughts of me."

Of course, I felt immense joy and fulfilment hearing Ray speak those words to me. Dreams often stem from either fear or desires of the heart, and in this case, it was undoubtedly the latter. I had longed to hear those words from Rat. Not the Ray who speaks them in my dreams, but the Ray I encountered today at my interview. 

"I am right. This is just a dream. In my dreams, you always speak with such intensity. I know that the true you would never speak those words."

I let out a deep sigh of displeasure and turn my face away in frustration. My gaze fixated on the passing scenery outside the train's window, but my mind was filled with disappointment.

“Kichi—”

"I feel exhausted." The words escaped my lips with a troubled undertone.

With a gentle gesture, Ray lightly patted the crown of my head before playfully tousling my hair. A blush rose to my cheeks and I couldn't help but close my tired eyes, feeling a sense of warmth and affection from her touch.