Chapter 1: Dylan's Dream (Draft 1)

Editor's note:

In this version, I consolidate some details about Dylan's dream and try to meld it into one. I also added an important section about Sophie, and who she is to Dylan. I want to gradually reveal these characters' stories to the reader. This first chapter is foundational.

I love writing!!!

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Through Dylan's eyes, the city was black and white. Snow covered busy buildings, dead trees, and a pile of giant-sized bodies that littered the city. Dylan checked his phone: 6:02AM, and yet the sky was pitch black. In his mind, he knew exactly what happened. Fenrir the wolf swallowed the sun, announcing the start of Ragnarok – the final battle of the gods, and the end of the world.

Dylan found two odd things about this (although he should have considered a third): one, that Ragnarok was actually happening before his very eyes; and two, that everyone outside – people walking around the city – seemed not to care. (Three, all of this was happening in an archipelago in Southeast Asia which has no connection to Norse Gods.) Dylan watched this mythical battle happening right outside his bedroom window.

Thor, the god of thunder, Odin's favorite son, fought with Jormungandr, the world serpent, in the river below. Thor was not what Dylan expected him to look like: a red-haired, big-bellied barbarian who wielded a crude-looking hammer which must have been Mjollnir. With the hammer, Thor struck Jormungandr's white head, forming a dent in the middle of the giant snake's eyes. In response, the serpent retreated into the lake. Thor scanned different parts of the lake, anticipating where the snake might emerge. His eyes darted left, right, up, and down, but forgot to look somewhere vital: behind him. Before he could react to the sound of water splashing, Jormungandr folded Thor's torso with its strong jaws, instantly killing the god. As the snake bit into Mjollnir, the hammer sent out a thunderous blast, which made the serpent's head explode. In this way, Thor and Jormungandr fell at the same time.

In another part of the city, atop the tallest tower, Odin's spear was stuck in the wolf's mouth. Dylan saw the frustrated All-Father shouting insults at Fenrir the wolf for swallowing the sun, and now attempting to swallow his beloved spear. Seeing as the spear wouldn't budge, Odin let go of his weapon and threw unarmed blows at Fenrir, hoping to weaken him. Fenrir was unfazed. He kicked the All-Father, whose strength was depleted in his old age, and Odin fell off the building unconscious. The gluttonous Fenrir, hoping to fill his belly more, lunged after the almost lifeless Odin to try and swallow him. Odin hit the ground with a loud thud. The wolf, which still had a spear stuck in his throat, tried to reach Odin on the ground with his mouth. The base of the spear landed on Odin's chest, driving itself further into the wolf's esophagus, finall impaling Fenrir through the stomach and killing it. In this way, Odin and Fenrir fell at the same time. Through Fenrir's pierced belly, a bit of sunlight leaked out.

Numerous corpses of gods and mythical beasts littered the snow-covered city. Dylan could not name many of them. In the middle of the park, the last two gods remained. One was a being that seemed to shapeshift with every step he took. At one point, he looked  like a horse; at another, he looked like a frost giant with blue skin. Eventually, he settled with a form that seemed to be his true one: a slim man with raven black hair, wielding a dart-like blade. This must have been Loki, wielding the enigmatic Laevateinn.

He circled the park grounds opposite Heimdall, the gatekeeper. Dylan wondered if it was Heimdall who brought all the gods here through the Bifrost. In his left hand was Gjallarhorn, and in his right was a blade slightly longer than Loki's. The two remaining gods pointed their blades at one another while walking slowly. This dance of death went on for what seemed like minutes, though in reality, it was only a few seconds before one of them made the first move.

Loki took the form of a raven and dashed towards Heimdall, before assuming human form and piercing his sword towards his target. Heimdall quickly deflected Loki's blade with his and stepped back. The force of Heimdall's blade knocked Laevateinn out of Loki's hands, leaving him stunned and vulnerable. Loki once again shapeshifted into something small and nimble to retrieve his blade. Loki was too agile for Heimdall. Heimdall was too strong for Loki. Their battle went on for hours.

Dylan watched with anticipation, trying to figure out how both of them could die at the same time. Would they stab each other's hearts at the same time? Would Loki shapeshift into an elephant that would crush Heimdall, who would then open the Bifrost to somehow slice the elephant in half? Dylan recalled the gruesome scenarios he watched in shows and read in comic books. He could imagine no end to this stalemate.

Dylan got bored watching the two gods fight, so he decided to lie down on his bed again and enjoy a restful Thursday morning. And that's when it hit him.

Thursday was a weekday.

Immediately, he got up and checked his phone again. It was 6:58AM, only two hours and two minutes before work. In a city like this, that wasn’t enough time. And with the giant corpses lying around, traffic was bound to be heavy. He had no time for a shower. At first, he thought he would rather be stinky but on time. He wet his hands and flattened his hair, walking towards his closet... But after realizing how gross he felt, he decided to hit the showers and be late.

After a shower that, as usual, took longer than he needed, Dylan finally headed out of his apartment. His body tensed up as the elevator stopped on 6 more floors as it travelled from the 32nd floor to Ground. He tapped his foot repeatedly and waited as crowds of people entered and exited the descending vehicle.

“Hey, you guys see this, too, right?” Dylan wanted to ask, but decided not to. Instead, quietly wondered if Loki  or Heimdall won the duel. He wondered if people finally noticed. To appease his curiosity, Dylan walked under the pitch black night, leaving shoeprints in the snow, as he walked towards the park across his condominium building.

When Dylan got there, Loki and Heimdall were taking a break from fighting beside the park fountain. Both were sprawled on the floor and breathing heavily. From the 32nd floor, the gods didn’t look too big; Dylan realized this illusion when he went to them up close. As he approached, he realized how huge these gods were compared to him and the people around him. He kept his distance, but others were more fearless. Crowds of annoyed citizens dressed in work clothes, just like Dylan, and walked around the giant-sized gods. These gods must have been at least 20 ft. tall, the size of 3-4 people of average height (at least in this part of the world). There was a man on his phone walking beside Loki’s leg; another man on his headset stepping over the dart-like blade Laevateinn. A woman walked around Heimdall’s head, her eyes glued to her phone, paying no attention to the god beside her. A few people acknowledged the gods, the pitch black darkness, and the heavy snow, but only to complain about how all of this is making them late to work.

To the people of the city, it seems that Ragnarok was just another nuisance to the work day. The city found ways to adapt to the dark and snowy night so that productivity could continue. City lights were turned on at full blast. Workers in orange vests shoveled snow out from roads. It would have been easier with a snow truck, though, understandably, we didn’t have those. Despite the end of the world, life went on as usual.

Dylan found this indifference odd, but at the same time wasn’t surprised at the city’s response; this is the same attitude they have regarding all world crises. Dylan hoped, however, that the government would at least care enough to declare today a non-work holiday. But hope doesn't pay the bills, and Dylan stalled long enough. He dismissed all hopeful thoughts from his mind, braced himself for a tiring workday, and sprinted towards the train station.

It was 8:16am by the time he got to Q Station. He would have missed the previous train if they strictly followed their own schedule. Thankfully, they didn’t. The 8:15am train was just about to arrive. If there were miraculously no delays, if he could squeeze his way into this train, and if he could instantly ride a jeepney at O Station, then there was a chance he could make it to work on the dot. There were around two hundred other people in the station waiting with him, hoping, like him, to make it to work on time. Dylan hoped the next train would be empty.

To Dylan's surprise, his hopes were half-fulfilled. All the cars were moderately filled. It wasn’t too empty, but everyone was still able to ride without having to be packed like sardines. Dylan sighed with relief. He thought of sitting, but decided not to. He chose to stand instead, so he could get a better view of Loki and Heimdall through the window. Even in pitch black darkness, giant gods aren’t so hard to see from far away. For some weird reason, it seemed like the sun was slowly rising. Did the sun escape Fenrir’s belly and go up to the sky? The two gods, silhouetted by the dawn, picked up their swords and started the last duel. The scene was magical, in the truest sense of the word.

"They're at it again," said a voice beside him. Dylan looked to his right and saw a woman. A beautiful woman. Like the rest of the people in the train, she was in office clothes: a dark blue blazer that covered a white blouse that wrapped tightly around her waist. Her skirt contoured her legs, and cut off at just the right length. Though she was slightly shorter than Dylan, she looked more professional, like an adult should. She had a pretty face and a genuine smile. She was the kind of coworker that you would listen to at meetings, and one that you would want to have lunch with. She is the kind of competent, friendly person you would want on your team to boost productivity. Clients must love her. Her bosses must love her. There must have been a hundred people in the building who had a crush on her, Dylan thought.

Dylan, on the other hand, had a skinny, boyish frame that made him look like a kid in a suit. There was a blankness about him, like he was always half asleep. He was sharp when it came to certain things, but 8 years in the workforce seemed to have sucked both life and wit out of him. Dylan was the kind of officemate you didn’t really mind, whose presence you would forget unless you needed something from him. He didn’t seem particularly stupid, but he didn’t seem particularly bright either. He was just… painfully plain.

Dylan locked eyes with the woman on his right. He was hopelessly attracted to her, as opposites usually are. She seemed familiar. In his mind, Dylan knew who she was. Her name was on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah," finally managed to say. “That’s been going on since this morning.”

Dylan and the nameless woman looked out at the sunless, snowy city, where Loki and Heimdall continued their battle. Blades clashed once again, with no clear winner in sight. There was a lot to say about the scenery, but the metaphorical cat caught Dylan's tongue.

"Maybe after lunchtime, one of them will win. My bet is on Loki," the woman casually remarked. Dylan still found it odd that no one saw how insane this scenery was. He found it odd that he himself took this all in so calmly, and that he was more nervous about being late to work. He realized that he, too, wasn’t so different from the crowd. What was so amazing to him, however, is how this woman was the first person to acknowledge the bizarre things happening in the city. She seemed like the type of person who found things interesting when everyone else didn't seem to care.

"Who do you think will win? Let’s bet." the genuinely curious woman continued.

Dylan thought about it for a second, remembering what little he learned about Norse mythology.

"I think they both lose, eventually," he said. "I'm just not sure how."

"That’s an interesting prediction. Let’s see if that comes true.” said the woman. “I heard that they'll suspend work later today.”

“Will they?” Dylan replied. “You would think they’d announce that this morning.”

“You know how it is here," she said. “They always wait before it’s too late before they announce things like this. Anyway, it’s a holiday tomorrow. Long weekend.”

“Hey,” said Dylan. “If they do end up announcing that suspension, would you want to meet up after work? You know, for the bet.”

The woman looked at him. Dylan couldn’t tell if she was open to the idea, or looking for a nice way to let him down.

“If Loki wins, I buy you dinner,” Dylan continued. “If both lose, you buy me dinner. But if Heimdall wins, we just split the bill.”

Dylan cursed himself silently again. She continued to look at Dylan with a look he couldn’t decipher. The woman is intelligent enough to see that this wasn’t the smoothest way to ask someone out on a date. Numerous guys must have tried this before. Dylan could find no reason for her to accept this proposal. He was about to retract what he said, but was cut off by the woman’s reply.

"Sounds good,” she said.

“Great.” Dylan sighed with relief.

“If work ends early, will you meet me at 2pm?”

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan." Dylan extended an awkward hand. The woman smiled at this, amused, and shook it awkwardly as well.

“I’m Sophie.”

“Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you, Dylan.”

“So, Sophie, should I get your number, or…?”

“Hmm,” uttered Sophie pensively. “Just meet me at the station at 2.”

“All right, cool. Cool.” Dylan did not feel cool at all.

He looked out the train window again to see the state of the city. Loki and Heimdall had now long been out of sight. The sun was now fully up. As the snow melted, Dylan feared that the work suspension might not push through. As he wondered about all this, he realized that he missed a very important detail. "Oh, which station will we-"

But Sophie was gone. Did the train stop without Dylan noticing? He couldn't remember. But just like that, the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Dylan stood at his office's front door. 10:00AM. He was an hour late. Traffic was horrible. From Station O, he took a long walk to the office instead of riding the usual jeepney. He looked out the glass window beside him, and saw what he usually saw: the sun in the sky, thousands of cars on the road, people walking everywhere, and hundreds of buildings that look exactly like the one he was in now. There were no dead gods or beasts in this part of the region. It seems that Ragnarok, the royal rumble of 60-or-so gods, was contained in a relatively small area. Only snow and darkness were felt by the whole region, and now those were now dissipating. It was as if nothing had happened.

But the end of the world was no excuse. He was late. He took a breath and prepared an apology before entering the office door.

"Hi," Dylan said, without looking up. "Sorry I'm late."

His manager, Raylen, greeted him with the usual, "Aw hey, Dyl." Only this time, his cheerful tone seemed just that – cheerful, without a hint of passive-aggressiveness. "That's all right. I just got here myself just ten minutes ago. Crazy morning today, wasn't it?"

Dylan looked puzzled as Raylen reassured him with a pat on the arm. As usual, Dylan's boss was eerily friendly today, but for a different reason this time. This time, Raylen's friendliness seemed genuine. He still hated his boss' nickname for him, and found his foreign accent slightly… grating… but everything else about Raylen's demeanor exuded authentic warmth. Raylen smiled at Dylan as he kept his hand on his employee's shoulders.

"Off to work then, hey?" Dylan said in an uncomfortable accent he unconsciously used when talking to his boss. "Thanks for understanding, Sir Raylen."

"Hey, now what did we talk about, Dyl? Drop all that 'sir' nonsense, and it's just Ray. We're practically the same age." Ray was 53, old enough to be Dylan's dad if he had him at 24.

"Right. Thanks Ray. Sorry again about being late. Won't happen again."

"Ahh, the end of the world’s a bummer. Who would’ve thought? Snow? Here? Had to leave my car at home and take the train here and let me tell you: I’ll never do that again. Don’t sweat, mate." Raylen pointed a slightly awkward finger gun at Dylan, made an equally awkward clicking sound matched with a wink, then walked backwards for a few steps before giving one final assurance. “You'll still get paid.”

Dylan awkwardly smiled at his boss and gave a thumbs up. When Raylen was finally out of sight, Dylan shook his head as if to jolt himself awake. He sat down in front of his desk, set up his work laptop, then got to work on his tasks for the day. At 12nn, he had lunch with his workmates, where they talked about the events that happened that morning. One of his coworkers talked about the heavy traffic caused by snow, and how some people slept in their cars while they waited for the snow to melt.

“Good thing you didn’t bring a car today,” said one of Dylan’s coworkers.

“I have no car,” said Dylan.

Conversation went on as usual. They talked about the upcoming long weekend, from Friday to Sunday, and how it sucks that work wasn’t suspended today. That would have given them an almost four-day weekend. They talked about new TV shows, new gadgets, new vacation spots, and the possible out-of-the-country work trip. On the topic of work, they talked about a certain coworker who always left the office with the new hire, and how those two were having lunch together in the canteen downstairs instead of the usual break room. Didn’t he have a girlfriend? There was always something to talk about in the office.

While all this was happening, he wondered about which station he should meet Sophie. Surely she meant Station Q, which was closest to the park where Loki and Heimdall fought? Or did she mean Station O, the station they were headed to when they had the conversation? He also wondered if the date would push through at all, given that the snow had cleared up and there seemed to be no work suspension today.

At 1pm, everyone went back to work. There was no sign of suspension. At 2pm, Dylan thought of sneaking out of the office to meet Sophie, but he didn’t know where the meeting place was, and Sophie was most likely still at work. She should have given Dylan her phone number. Or was that her way of shooing Dylan away? He shook off feeling and went back to typing on a computer, half working and half pretending to be busy. All throughout the day, Dylan kept thinking about Sophie – how he hoped to bump into her in the train again and explain in complete detail why he couldn’t make it to the 2pm meeting. He thought about searching her up on social media, but realized how impossible that would be without her last name. These thoughts came to Dylan in flashes, quickly overridden by his tasks for the day. At exactly 4:34pm, all his tasks were done. Let the clockwatching begin, he thought to himself.

He couldn’t wait to get home and so he could be alone with his thoughts uninterrupted. In the minutes leading up to the end of day, Dylan became a private investigator and tried to search the name “Sophie” on social media, hoping to find someone with some mutual friends. She seemed so familiar. He knew he had seen her before.

After what seemed like hours, the clock struck 5:59PM. Dylan braced himself. The wait to 6:00PM was the longest 60 seconds of Dylan's life. He counted down at random points of the second hand. Forty. Thirty-one. Twenty-nine. Twenty-five. Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Did Tim leave with the new girl? Huh. Odd. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Zero.

Dylan ran as fast as he could to the office door. It was the start of the long weekend, and he couldn't wait to spend three long days at home. He would figure out what to do along the way. As he rushed to the building elevator, he sensed that something was a bit odd. The clock beside the elevator read 5:55pm.

That's weird, thought Dylan. Is this clock broken? What if the office clock is broken, and this one is right?

Then, something weirder happened. The clock moved backwards, at a gradually rising speed. It now read 5:45pm, then 5:30pm, then 5:00pm, then 4:00pm, then 3:00pm, then 2:00pm, then 1:00pm. As the clock rewinded, Dylan's whole surrounding rewinded, like a VHS recording going backwards after twisting the knob. Then, Dylan realized that HE was moving backwards: back into the office door, back into his desk, back to doing all the tasks he had just finished earlier that day. He found himself talking to Raylen again, but this time their conversation was backwards.

"ega emas eht yllacitcarp er'eW. yaR tsuj s'ti-"

Then he relived the rest of the day, but in reverse. He saw the sunny skies outside the office window, which instantly turned dark as he found himself in a train beside Sophie. Seconds later, he found himself going up his building's elevator, back to his room, and watching the resurrection of once lifeless gods. Thor's body broke free from Jormungandr the world serpent, and they were pulled apart from each other. Odin pulled his spear from Fenrir, who then spit out the sun. Heimdall opened the Bifrost and all the gods entered with him in reverse back to Asgard. All this happened in a blur, and made Dylan's head hurt.

Then Dylan woke up.

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An olive green bag hit his face. He looked up to see a man wearing his bag in front of him, scrolling his phone, and unaware that he woke Dylan up.

It was all a dream. He had slept in this crowded train, en route to Station O. It was a sleep that was deep enough to dream about Ragnarok, Sophie, his boss, getting to the office, time rewinding...

Sophie.

He dreamt about Sophie, bumping into her on the train like he had always hoped to. In the dream, they met for the first time. But in reality, they had been friends since, well, forever. Dylan recalls their meeting with fondness.

It was the summer of 2007. Dylan and Sophie were in the same music conference hosted in their country. It was an international music conference for kids ages 7-17 hosted by their country, and they were part of the lucky few whose applications were accepted. Dylan played the violin; Sophie played the piano. In one of the recital days, the two snuck out of the hall to buy snacks in the campus grounds. Unfortunately, there was only one batch of french fries left for sale, and only one of them could have it.

“You can have it,” said 9-year-old Dylan.

“Really?” said the 9-year-old Sophie, whose eyes widened.

“Sure.” Dylan was a bit disappointed that the girl didn’t offer it back to him. With a slight pain in his heart, he gave up his snack. “You can have the last batch of fries.”

“Yay!” Sophie said, cartoonishly. She searched her tiny bag for cash, but couldn’t seem to find any. Seeing her panicked face, Dylan handed his bill to the lady at the counter.

“What flavor do you want?” Dylan asked.

“Uhh, cheese,” replied Sophie, who was still searching her bag. Dylan mouthed the word “cheese” to the lady at the counter, gave a thumbs up, and smiled.

“It’s okay,” Dylan told Sophie. “I paid for it.”

Sophie looked up from her bag, a bit confused. She looked at the lady at the counter, who was cooking a fresh batch of golden french fries. Sophie’s eyes teared up before she jumped for joy, trying to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention to herself. She was just sneaking out after all. So was Dylan.

“Thank you!!!” Sophie whispered as loud as she could.

“You’re welcome. But I’ll get a few bites, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” said Sophie, forgetting who bought the fries. The two kids waited impatiently for the fresh batch of cheese fries. Dylan swayed his hips from left to right, and Sophie hummed her recital piece. When the lady at the counter mixed the fries and powder in a plastic cylinder, their mouths watered. As soon as the fries were placed on the counter, Sophie grabbed it instantly and ate two fries at once. Dylan bit four.

“I’m Sophie, by the way,” she said with her mouth full.

“Mm Dmlylmn,” was all he could manage to say. Sophie looked at his name tag and nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Dylan.”

They ate their cheesy snack while walking back to their respective recital halls, which turned out to be next to each other. Their mothers were waiting at the door, with disappointed looks on their faces. It seems that their parents have been looking all over for them. Sophie missed her performance at the recital, and they had to skip her. Dylan was about to go next.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Sophie,” said Dylan as his mom pushed him into the violin hall.

“Okay! Same place, 2pm?” said Sophie, who was being dragged by her mom into the piano hall.

They met at the same spot the next day, and the three days after that. They shared so much in common: favorite music, favorite TV shows, favorite hobbies. For kids their age, it was easy to share a lot of things in common. During the early days of the internet, everyone watched the same shows on cable TV, visited the same websites, laughed at the same memes, and had more common experiences. But what were the chances that these two rascals would meet the way they did? Since then, Sophie and Dylan became the best of friends. Throughout their elementary years, they met only twice in person, but they kept in touch online. 

As they grew up, they shared less in common. In high school, especially in the later years, Dylan became the lanky loser who just kind of drifted. He was the kind of classmate who laughed along with jokes, but never had the confidence to make his own. He joined in on other people’s fun, but never really figured out what was fun for him. He was hopelessly shy, lacking the initiative to join clubs or hang out with steady friend groups. Though he had an affinity for music, he never joined the music club. In certain subjects, his grades were average at best.

Sophie, however, was a star student through and through, Sophie was a member of many different clubs, becoming the president of a good number of them. All the teachers loved her, and there were rarely any students who had a negative opinion of her. (The ones who do eventually grow up and realize that the negative feelings were just jealousy.) She was a virtuoso on the piano and had the most amazing voice. She grew up to be a skilled dancer as well, moving with much grace and intensity.

She went to a different high school than Dylan, but they somehow ended up having the same circle of friends. By the start of their second year of high school, Sophie and Dylan saw each other more regularly, going to the mall with their friends, watching movies together, and eating out. Occasionally, they watched concerts even if they weren’t allowed to. It was at one particular concert in third year high school when Dylan and Sophie promised to go to the same university. They made a pinky promise, while their favorite band played their favorite song. Sophie looked forward to going to college with her dear old friend. Dylan was determined to spend the next four years – and possibly more – with the love of his life.

Dylan had to get serious about his last year. He devoured required readings for breakfast, watched trigonometry tutorial videos for lunch, and wrote thousand-word papers for dinner. Instead of playing video games, Dylan read books that he wanted to read. One particular book was about Norse mythology, where he let his mind run free. There was something about these warlike stories that drew Dylan in. In particular, he found it amusing that the writers of Norse mythology wrote about fighting for glory and honor, while writing the gods like absolute buffoons. Norse gods were similar to the Greeks, but Dylan found the former a hundred times more pathetic and a thousand times more amusing. The dissonance of the gods felt very human to him.

At the end of the last chapter, Dylan read about Ragnarok. When he finished the book, he wrote at the end, “You + Me at the end of the world.” He blushed after writing this, feeling a bit pathetic after this private revelation. It wasn’t very Viking-like of him to show this much vulnerability. Instead, he felt like a giggling schoolgirl writing in his pink pony diary. Maybe that was exactly what he was.

Dylan eventually wrote full poems for the girl of his dreams, scribbled across all the books he had read. Sometimes, those lines would find their way into the papers he wrote for school. His teachers didn’t seem to notice, though. At the end of his four years, Dylan kept his promise to Sophie. Would it be accurate to say that this feat was a miracle? One would say this was the natural consequence of a boy filled with both mushy love and warlike determination.

For Dylan, the next four years with Sophie felt like heaven. The next four years, however, was a different story.

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If Dylan had all the time in the world, he would reminisce on Sophie and reflect on why she still shows up in his dreams to this day. But Dylan did not have that luxury. Romanticizing life would have to wait after work.

Dylan rubbed the sand from his eyes and shook his head violently to wake himself up. He looked up and right, beside the metal post he was leaning on, to see a lady with a baby. Their eyes met, and Dylan instantly stood up to offer his seat to the lady. Instead, the man with the olive green bag took the seat, still on his phone. Dylan looked to the lady, as if to apologize for Olive Greenbag. The lady looked back as if to say, "It's not your fault." They exchanged a smile.

Dylan looked at Greenbag's phone. 9AM. His eyes widened and started panicking. He talked to the lady with the baby.

"Excuse me," he said. "Which station are we at?"

The woman's answer sent Dylan rushing to the exit. He had missed his stop by one station, and now would take forever to get back.

He ran to the jeepney stop and hoped that his dream about a friendly, understanding Raylen became a reality. Dylan wouldn't mind being called Dyl if his boss transformed from a mean grouch into a friendly, understanding, somewhat awkward version of himself that Dylan dreamt about. He prayed for a miracle. Hopefully, that dream was a prophecy.

He hoped that part about Sophie was prophetic, too.