[ WP ] Every night in your sleep you meet a successful-looking future you who tells you what you should do the next day . So far your life has gone well indeed , but one day you fall asleep during the daytime . You meet a tired , disheveled version of yourself who begs you not to listen to the other .

I have never been the kind to try and find a meaning in dreams, nor the one who listens to fortune tellers: my future is mine to shape, unforeseeable and beautifully mysterious because of that. I don ’ t know what comes next, and as such I ’ m as free as I could be in my choices. This is just how it should be, except it ceased to about an year ago. 
 
 
 The dreams started after a crazy night out in my town with the old friends I hadn ’ t seen in a while, they looked all accomplished, successful, and there it was me, the one unfit for success, the one still working 9-5 in a small office, full of small people working 9-5, unfit for success as well. My friends had either smoking hot girlfriends or plethoras of lovers, while I was texting a girl from office, maybe a 7, still the best I could get. That night my friends ordered all top-shelf stuff, we ’ re talking abut Bellavista, Grey Goose, and 50 years old Whiskeys, and there was kind of a challenge about who was to offer more drinks to the poor old friend I was. I loved them, my scarce wealth was never a problem except to me: to me it was a big problem, and when I got home, the evening after, I went to bed wishing to be just as successful: to be able to pay them back, I told myself, but maybe just because I wanted to. That night I dreamt of a guy, well-dressed, rich-looking and handsome, and he introduced himself as someone willing to help me achieve my goals, so I laughed it off, being like: “ Ok dude, I should never have drank that much, I get it ”, so he said: “ Tomorrow, go walking to your office, leave early and enjoy the view, this will show you what I can do ”. 
 
 
 That morning I got up early and walked to the office -it was a mere thirty minutes away and it could do some good to me to walk every once in a while, i thought- enjoying the view like the guy said. As I turned around the corner, I found a jewellery box laying on the ground aside a strange-looking key. I put both in my pocket and, being the nice guy I used to be, reached up to a wealthy-looking lady asking whether she lost them. The old lady thanked me so much, but didn ’ t recognise the key, she said the box had fell out of her pocket, and offered me coffee in her mansion as a thank-you. I promptly accepted. 
 
 The mansion was spectacular, it took a couple of minutes to get there by car from the city, and as I entered I thought it was well-worth being scolded at work for being late. The old lady introduced me to her daughter, definitely the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and we instantly hit it off. Later she drove me to work and said the sweetest goodbye leaving me with a kiss on the cheek and a confused mind. I had fallen in love. 
 
 
 Once I was in the office I got suspended for being late, or, as they said it, i got “ given some time to think about my career there ”, so I went out in the city once again, bought one of those milk-caramel-unicornshit-coffees they do at Costa ’ s and sit there, enjoying that beautiful day of sun, in pure happiness. I then got to the park, bought a book, and spent the afternoon there reading. At night I got home, ordered chinese, and just got to bed. 
 
 
 I dreamt of the guy again that night, and the night after, and every night after that one, always giving me advice, always making me happier. I won ’ t recount the ways he did, but should it suffice to say I got promoted at my office, twice, becoming one of the managers, and as such I got a bigger home to invite that girl, Asia, over. We eventually became a couple and everything was as happy as it could be. 
 
 
 Until today. Today me and Asia moved in a beautiful attic, me now working in another company as a top-manager took a day off to help with the boxes, and I got really tired, so I fell asleep at 16, against the advice of the dream-guy. Waiting for me, there was another guy, poor-looking, dirty, practically an hobo, who introduced himself as me. He told me he was me, and the other guy was as well, he told me I should stop listening to him, that the damages would have been by far greater than the perks I was getting. I didn ’ t believe him, so he showed me the future both of the dream guys could see. I saw great wealth, I saw fame as my company merged with ever-greater ones, I saw my marriage with Asia, our children, and then I saw something too awful to tell. 
 
 I will try anyway. 
 
 I saw me. Cheating on her. 
 
 I saw her. Finding out. 
 
 I saw me. I saw my rage. I saw a knife. 
 
 I saw the love of my life, on the ground, our children sound asleep. 
 
 I saw enough. 
 
 I told the guy to fuck off, to never bother me again with such awful visions. 
 
 What should I have done? The night guy just told me what to do, and it always led to happiness, this new one instead pops up in my mind and shows me such unholy things. I couldn ’ t stand it. 
 
 “ Go away ”, I said, “ Go away and never come back, you sick piece of shit ”. 
 
 “ I ’ m just trying to warn you, stay away from the other one, you ’ re happy now, let it be. Don ’ t be avid ”, he said. 
 
 “ I won ’ t listen to you psycho ”, I replied. 
 
 “ Fine then, by the way, it ’ s Janice, she got breast implants and she wants an interview in your company, but in fact she ’ s just obsessed about you since you stopped texting her because of Asia ” 
 
 “ What… ”, I couldn ’ t understand, “ What are you say… ” 
 
 The guy disappeared. 
 
 I woke up to the ringing telephone. 
 
 The voicemail started repeating its mantra. 
 
 A response followed, slightly covered by the noisy spools of the tape: 
 
 “ Hi [ panting ], this is Janice and, umm, I thought we could meet… Of course for the interview, I know you ’ re in a relationship of course. I, well, I got some implants, so maybe this time I ’ m good enough for you HAHAHAHA just kidding hahaha isn ’ t this funny? Anyway, your secretary didn ’ t book me the interview so call me back and we ’ ll do on our own… The interview of course! Bye ” 
 
 That night, the guy told me to hire Janice.
