While she did try not to show it, Meg’s own dreams were affecting her. Oh, she still smiled and was pleasant to customers at work, but if you knew her well enough you would know that her moods had taken a somber turn. Meg was quieter than usual. Still outwardly bubbly, but inwardly more contemplative and reflective. How could she not be? She was discovering a whole other life that felt like she’d lived it before. That other life was not all sunshine and rainbows as it had first seemed. When it was just her as a child, taking her first ballet lessons things had seemed harmless. Now that a mysterious opera ghost was part of her nocturnal adventures, though, things had become a shade darker. She was beginning to understand what Christine was going through.
Meg was doing stretches in her bedroom at the barre she’d set up to the side of the room. With a tiny huff of breath, the petite blonde decided that she needed to take a break. Contrary to what her instructors may have said, there was such a thing as too much ballet. She made her way down the short hallway to the kitchen, smiling when she saw Christine had the same idea.
“Making tea?” She smiled, unscrewing the lid to her water bottle to plop a couple ice cubes inside. It was meant to be a conversation starter, not an actual question. There was no doubt that Christine was making tea. Part of Meg wanted to start out the conversation with a question about the dreams. The two of them dreamt of the same world with the same goings on, as impossible as it seemed. Maybe Christine would have insight or at least be able to fill in the blanks so that Meg’s dreams would have fewer plot holes.