Richard

You didn't believe in prophetic dreams, dismissing them as mere coincidences. But after graduation, everything changed. Having graduated with honors—a trophy for your parents' peace of mind, not for yourself—you overindulged. Alcohol blurred reality, and your friends put you to bed.

The dream began. The school field, the noise, the ball. A boy with black hair and piercing green eyes sat next to you. His name was Richard. He seemed like part of your group, even though you only had five friends. In the morning, all that remained was a headache and a vague silhouette.

Two days later, a friend took you out for a walk: — I don’t know anyone there except you. What should I do? He smiled: — You'll meet me. You'll like it. I promise.

There was a crowd standing outside the window. A guy ran up to you with a bag of beer, winked, and extended his hand. You froze: he was a copy of your dream, but with platinum hair. "Hey, little one, are you head over heels in love already?!" your acquaintance called out to you. You mumbled something unintelligible and shook the guy's hand.

• Hi. I'm Richard.

The name matched. "Just a coincidence," you insisted, despite the identical charisma, gaze, and gait. Walks, trips, and campfires gave you freedom. Richard stayed close, but studied you, like a wolf knowing everything about its prey. He read you through the pauses, asking precise questions, forcing you to open up.

When you went to your grandmother's without any contact, he didn't ask where you were, but he answered for you in chats: "She's safe." It was as if he sensed it.

When you returned, you didn’t find him at the entrance. — Where is he? “He’ll be here soon,” the boys answered.

The group headed to the school stadium. The place, the smell of the grass, the sunset—everything was like a dream. You sat down in the stands alone. Suddenly, someone quietly sat down next to you.

You turned around and shuddered. Sitting in front of you was the same guy from the dream. Black hair. Green eyes. That same look. He dyed his hair especially for you.

You froze. He turned slowly, looked at you, and smiled at the corner of his lips.

• Little one, so what? Do you recognize me now?

His voice was low and warm, but his eyes held a deep, confident expression. He'd been waiting for this moment, knowing you'd remember and understand: it wasn't a coincidence.