Brenet

Ethan never imagined that a single night could change his life forever. What he thought was just an ordinary dream took him back to his past with an undeniable clarity. He quickly realizes that every choice in this dream world imprints his reality, changing his present in ways beyond his comprehension. But the deeper he goes, the more the boundary between dream and reality fades. Strangers seem to know him, memories he never experienced feel like his own, and, at the heart of it all, there is her…A girl who shouldn't be there, yet, somehow, has always been part of his story.

Between Dreams and Destinies

The roar still buzzed in his ears.

Ethan jolted awake, gasping. Cold sweat glued his shirt to his skin. His heart jackhammered against his ribs. For a heartbeat, his bedroom ceiling felt miles away—like the dream still had claws in him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Over. It's over.

He sat up slowly, dragging hands down his face. The dream's wreckage clung to him:

Lights stuttering like dying fireflies.

Her voice cracking: "Weird… I feel… off."

Ethan's fists tightened. Iria had always been the anchor—unshaken, all-knowing.

Which meant this wasn't just in his head.

The dream's weight clung to him as he shuffled downstairs. His dad sat at the table, scrolling his phone, coffee steaming.

"You slept in," he said, eyes glued to the screen. "Not like you."

Ethan paused, then nodded. "Yeah… guess I'm more tired than usual."

His dad set the phone down, smiling. "Well, you always stayed up late as a kid. Though back then, you'd spend hours at that park with…"

Ethan's throat tightened. "With who?"

His dad snapped his fingers. "Can't remember the name… but you talked about her nonstop."

But if she'd been so important… why couldn't he?

He stared at his plate. The truth was obvious now—his reality was rewriting itself. And no one noticed but him.

The rest of the day, Ethan faked normalcy. Smiled at neighbors. Nodded through conversations. But every laugh, every word, felt like static.

And he was the only one seeing the cracks.

He hung out with Daniel and Andrés, chatted with classmates, tried to distract himself. But the more they talked, the more something felt… off.

People he'd never been close to now acted like lifelong friends. Conversations he didn't remember. Stories about parties he'd supposedly thrown, trips he'd supposedly taken—all blank spaces in his mind.

Like he'd hijacked someone else's life.

"If I keep dreaming… what else gets rewritten?"

The doubt gnawed harder than he'd admit. Before, he'd wanted answers. Now? He wondered if he should stop.

If he kept chasing this… would there even be an Ethan left?

During a lull in the chatter, he blurted it out:

"Hey… you guys heard from Iria lately?"

No idea why he asked. Muscle memory, maybe.

But their reactions froze his blood.

Daniel frowned. "Iria? Doubt she's even in town now."

"Pretty sure she moved away ages ago," Andrés added, shrugging.

Ethan's throat turned to sandpaper.

But before he could dig, Daniel squinted at him. "Why ask?"

Ethan hesitated, then forced a smile.

They shrugged it off, but Ethan's chest tightened like a vice.

If Iria existed here… she should be around. But her absence hung like a ghost.

And that terrified him more than he'd admit.

By nightfall, exhaustion dragged him under.

He'd spent the day faking smiles, dodging memories. Now, his body begged for shutdown.

Collapsed onto bed, eyelids lead-heavy.

No dreams. No changes. Just… rest.

No flickering lights. No whispers. No Iria.

Just normal dreams: jumbled landscapes, nonsense scenes, static.

Woke at dawn, sunlight bleeding through blinds. Body refreshed.

First time in weeks, his sleep didn't warp reality.

Shadows in Reality