Work Text:
Dreams have been scientifically proven to be manifestations of what the future could bring. That's why people always say to "live your dreams", even if they seem a bit delusional. But what about making a manifestation as a joke? Those couldn't come true...right? That's what a woman thought of as she was in her room one late night, sitting at her desk and writing in her journal. She had a collection of random manifestations—some more truthful than others. As she added to the list, she felt a spark in her pen. Maybe it was a faulty one since she'd done had it for like two years? Who knows, but she kept writing until her hand cramped up and dropped the pen right on her notebook. As she cracked her knuckles and stretched her overall body out, her notebook started to...move on its own?
The pages flipped themselves over while the pen magically moved like it was deciding what to focus on. It settled on her most-recent manifestation, which was jokingly about "being the main woman in a C-Drama". The pen crossed it out, then wrote next to it "completed" before the girl's vision went black. She awoken to being inside some...luxury car? WHO CAR IS THIS?! It looked like the inside to that van almost every idol's driver used, which spooked the woman 'cause she just blanked out and woke up to this randomly. She surveyed the inside of the van, which was filled with security guards, obviously a driver, and—ZHANG LINGHE?! WHAT DA HELL?! The woman's eyes widened once they landed on the handsome man sitting next to her, looking good in a suit. Her favorite C-Drama man was right there, oh goodness. She struggled to keep her composure as she stared at him, causing Linghe to look her way.
He cocked a brow, confused about why she was looking at him like that. "Are you okay?" But then Zhang noticed her mildly flushed face, and her fidgeting—she looked starstruck.
The woman nodded, smiling like a goofy girl for a bit before dropping it slightly, straightening up, and adjusting the black qipao she just realized was on her (along with the Jimmy Choo's on her feet and makeup on her face). "Mhm, yep..."
The woman tried to look away and go on her phone in an attempt to distract herself from Zhang, but she felt a warm hand settle on top of her right one—IT WAS HIS. He held her hand gently, rubbing circles on her knuckles with his thumb. They kept their hands together during the entire car ride until Zhang's driver pulled into a hotel parking lot. Linghe's security moved in front of him and the woman from the back of the van, getting ready to make a way for them to get inside once the doors slid opened—which they did but too damn quickly for the woman. She had to put a hat on, grab her purse all fast, and start walking behind Zhang like she was his damn assistant or sumn. But anyway, once they got inside the hotel and up into their shared room, the security guards let them have some space and simply stood outside the door.
Zhang went to the provided body mirror in the room and tried to fixed his tie, only to accidentally pull it loose. "Dammit..."
The usually curly-haired woman took her hat off and tossed it aside, then walked over to Linghe. "I got it, let me help you."
As she fixed Zhang's tie, the woman glanced in the mirror and noticed that her hair was bone straight—not like a perm or nun detrimental to her curl pattern, but rather like a silk press without any curls. It was really cute, and it showed how long her hair truly was (she hadn't had her hair straight in a few months so she forgot how long it was lol). Linghe caught on to how she looked at herself in the mirror, making him smile before he snuck a cheek kiss on her. The smile he showed her wasn't the ones he'd give out to fans—it was more sincere than that.
"You look very beautiful."
She gasped, obviously taken aback by being kissed on the cheek and complimented by THEE ZHANG LINGHE. "Oh, thank you."
He adjusted his shirt's collar, loosening it slightly. "We have a dinner party to attend in thirty, so do as you will. I'll be in the other bathroom getting ready."
With that said, Zhang stepped away and went to the secondary bathroom, leaving the woman standing alone. She decided to go to the other bathroom and freshen up, which gave her the chance to figure out how in the hell she ended up in this position: being in close proximity and all touchy with Zhang Linghe like they were a damn couple. One minute, she was at home in her room, journaling some manifestation down. The next, well, she was with Zhang Linghe. The only thing odd, besides being with such a high-profile person, was how everything seemed like a drama plot—WAIT A MINUTE. The woman remembered how her latest manifestation was a written joke: "being the main woman in a C-Drama." It felt like it was coming true along with everything else being randomized besides what she wrote down, so what the fuck. How could THAT out of all things come true but not anything else in her journal?!
The woman rubbed her forehead, clearly stressed out of her mind. "How long do I even have as a...a damn character?!"
She heard a ding, followed by some glittery font appearing on the bathroom's mirror. It read: "You have until the end of the night when you fall asleep. When you awaken, you will be back home." The font faded away once the woman read its words aloud. She couldn't linger on the absurdity of her situation so she just got in the shower and got dressed, now wearing a dark red dress that was long, silky, and sleeveless with a right side slit. Paired with some red bottoms, the woman left the bathroom to see Zhang, who was wearing a new suit without a tie. In all seriousness...they looked like a couple. Or a pair of oddly close friends.
— — — — — —
The dinner party already felt long yet it was only the beginning of it. The curly-haired woman sighed as she rubbed her nose bridge, slightly slumping forward on the grand dinner table. She didn't do well with fancy dinners, yet neither did Zhang. He might've came across as a confident guy when it came to this kinda stuff; but in reality, he preferred peace and quiet over anything. He could only tolerate so much socialization until his battery ran out and he wanted to run home. But when the beauty of his life was beside him, Zhang would feel a bit of relief. At least she was there to keep him somewhat grounded. Anyway, as the high-profile dinner party progressed, Zhang found himself talking to the woman he walked in with more than eating the food presented on his plate. Yeah, he took bites here and there—but they didn't keep him distracted from falling into his introvert shell like she did.
The woman smiled at a small story Zhang told. "You mean to tell me you were stuck with a fan for that long?!"
He laughed out loud, though it was kept to a minimum since he didn't want any other eyes on him. "Unfortunately. The only good thing about it was how she refrained from being weird with me, which I appreciated and ultimately thanked her for once the bit was done."
"Wow. You're definitely better than me then. I can't stand that close to anyone without wimping out first."
Zhang chuckled, "Oh really? Not even in an elevator?"
The woman hummed, "Not even." With the small conversations her and Zhang were having, she was mentally piecing together the randomized plot she was dropped into: an oddly introverted high-profile guy who was nice to his dear girlfriend, who was also his soon-to-be fiancée. It brought a bright smile to her face, even if everything was assumably all in her head. "But if I'm stuck with you...then I won't move a muscle. Unless it's to hug you."
The recognizable man's heart couldn't help but melt at the sound of his future wife's words. She always had a way with them. "I love you."
The woman's infectious smiled widened with affection. "I love you too."
She didn't want any of this to end. But unfortunately, all good things have to at a point. The woman had forgotten this whole thing would be over after she fell asleep, only to realize it was when she woke back up and...looked around her home. She was back at last, but she felt alone. Bittersweet if she would. The woman knew that whatever situation she was placed into was merely a manifested dream, yet she didn't want it to stop the way it did. With a small pout hidden in her face, she stood up from her desk and stretched—just like before. She left her room and went to the front door, checking to see if she had any packages. The woman had...a gift? A bouquet of roses and a box?
She bent down to pick them up, then mentally read the note attached to the box after she closed the door behind her. "Hello. I hope these bring you joy. My managers wanted me to personally thank you for being in attendance of tonight's dinner since you are coming from far away, along with your professional history. It would be nice if you wore what's in the box for the event. Everything was made with your measurements in mind. Enjoy the flowers as well. - Zhang Linghe & His Team" In the box sat a black qipao and Jimmy Choo's—her first outfit from the dream in exact detail.