Dream Weaver : Mathias/Nike

The light was starting to filter in through the window, and Nike was at that stage of sleep, not fully out, not fully awake, when something tugged at the corner of her brain. It was as if someone were knocking, aware she was there. “Nikita?” She asked, unable to shake the feeling.

Her eyes fluttered back and forth from behind their lids as she opened a non-existant door to find Mathias there, looking like he’d been to half a dozen parties, and maybe a fight or two. “Mathias!” She said worriedly. “Are you all right?”

Mathias balked looking around confused not sure where he was, the landscape was hard to pin down. Nothing felt solid. A party? Some mist place in between? Home? Somewhere from a memory? It was all so jumped all they eat at the same time. The cherry on top was Nike walking in looking like the last time he had seen her, hair dyed an unnatural jello/marker ink red (literally what they had used back in the day), in a pixie cut style and wild spiky in a grungy punk girl look. She had the whole look, fishnets, skull-printed pleated skit, chunky boot, and layers of sliced and cut band shirts it wasboth nostalgic and worrisome. “Oh dear go … I am tripping hard …” He said rubbing his good eye.

Nike smiled warmly, looking herself over and held out her hand for him to take. “I can see that, you want company to ride it out?” Behind her, loud music blared through oversized speakers, and colorful laser lights flashed.

“You … I think … I … made it home. Why am I dreaming about going to another party? I just came from like six of them.” Mathias couldn't help but chuckle. “Oh, I sounded so old right then didn’t I? I am dreaming right? Or did I take something I shouldn’t of?”

“You’re dreaming,” Nike told him. “I can’t tell you what you took, but I can be here for you. Is this where you want to be?” She asked, looking around at the grungy sprawl rave. “I’ve gotten better at this, tell me where you want to go and we’re there. Car ride up the coast, rooftop, beach at sunset, dealer’s choice. Sky is the limit, no pun intended.”

“I took a lot.” Mathias admitted. “I was kind of looking forward to the crash part of the night. Wait … so all these crazy dreams I had when I thought it was the shrooms were you?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I didn’t always have this under control, sometimes i just liked to check in, and sometimes, you were tripping balls and came to visit. You want to dance, or go somewhere and talk? I’m up for either.”

“Talk about what? How your hair would smell like cherries every time we dyed it?” Mathias teased.

“I used to tell Nikka and Nikita it was my shampoo. They then always wanted to use it, so I’d have to hit the store and look for anything that remotely smelled like kool-aid.” She laughed

Mathias laughed. “Okay admit the upshot of being the same age was never having to go through that and Issac was way too young for any of that. Just know green lime was for a long time ‘Mathias flavored’.”

Nike took both of his hands, and the music faded, in a blink the scenery changed. Black and white linoleum tile was beneath their feet, and the only sound was water running into a giant farmhouse sink. Nike instantly recognized the dingy kitchen. “How many hours did we spend trying to scrub marker stains off our skin?” she chuckled, as thick, well-stained towels covered her and his shoulders.

Mathias laughed through the techni-colored towels. It almost hurt. Remembering all the good times, it felt so carefree. There were responsibilities like there were now. It seem most days he felt guilty now anytime he had time to himself. “We had so much fun back then even at its worst …” Nostalgia was a funny thing to Mathias. It felt bitter. Good times tainted by time.

“I think that’s where the phrase young and dumb came into play,” Nike said, turning off the sink. “Like remember the party in that sketchy ass murder basement? Us and like a dozen kids, music blasting from one small speaker, all of us drunk as skunks?” She laughed at the memory. “That rickety wooden staircase, naked lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, workbenches with wood working tools - straight out of a horror movie. And we were fine with it. Could you murder us later,” she mocked, “we’re kinda partying right now.”

“Oh hell remember this place.” Mathias said looking around a smile growing. “I came here all the time, hide out in here a few times too … Then it got overtaken as a drug den and the city tore this place down, tried to build condos or some shit ended up being nothing tofu apartments, burned down that year from shoddy electrical work. It was all over the news. Haven’t really thought this place is forever.”

“I used to come here to get the hell away from my family,” Nike remembered. “Now, Nikita is on some remote island, Nikka wants to go out all the time, I’m the one trying to get them to stay home for once.”

“You sound so domestic.” Mathias teased. “Man, I would kill for one night at home. I’d probably sleep the whole time but the concept is pretty nice.”

“A night with no party?” Nike asked, “Who sounds more domestic? Sit. Relax. I know it’s not a night at home, but I’m not going anywhere, you can dream for a bit.”

“Tsk, I don’t have enough credit to afford domestic.” Mathias snarked taking a seat. “When the hell did you manifest anyway and how did I not know?”