Mapping the Unconscious

Mateo's bank account held the commission money, a physical representation of the potential that hummed beneath his mind. The intimidating bureaucratic barrier known as the visa wall was still there, but it no longer seemed completely insurmountable. The path wasn't clear, but it wasn't completely closed either. With money, he might have been able to ask consultants, pursue other options, or obtain different kinds of visas. This flimsy hope seeped into his dreams, adding a fresh, uneasy vitality to the shared space with Seraphina.

A huge, deserted beach beneath a sky full of unfathomably bright stars—more than Mateo had ever seen in his life and more than Seraphina could ever hope to see through the light pollution of Los Angeles—was the dreamscape's physical manifestation tonight. The only sound on the beach was the soft lap of invisible waves, and the sand felt cool under their bare feet.

For a while, they strolled in pleasant silence, the tranquility between them a comforting comfort. Mateo, however, was unable to accept things passively tonight. Something inside of him had changed when the architect received payment, the material evidence of the worth of his work. The dream connection seemed less like an unexplained phenomenon and more like a goal he might now be able to achieve.

He turned to Seraphina and stopped moving. The conflict between hope and uncertainty in his face was highlighted by the starlight. He said, "Seraphina," in a low voice that took on a new significance. "Something took place. Something nice.

Sensing the change in his energy, she tilted her head slightly and looked at him. "Good?"

"My art," he said, his words stumbling out as he described the difficult work, the unexpected payment, and the unexpected commission from the German architect. It's sufficient. Perhaps. Enough to really go somewhere. if I can resolve the visa issue."

Seraphina's eyes widened a little as she took this in. She had always seen the practicalities of money as an abstract idea that was handled by others, but she recognized the importance of this development for Mateo. Suddenly, terrifyingly, it made the impossible possible.

Mateo inhaled, bracing himself for the query that throbbed beneath their whole bond. "So... if I could come," he said, the "if" lingering in the air. "Los Angeles is so big, if I could ever make it there. I'm not even sure where to start. Where would I look, exactly? "You don't have to answer," he said hastily after finishing his sentence. I realize that asking this is crazy. Perhaps it's dangerous. However... Under the starry dream sky, he trailed off, the silent plea lingering between them.

Seraphina's response came instantly; her posture stiffened almost imperceptibly as a flash of fear passed across her face. The encroachment of real-world logistics and hazards abruptly threatened this safe haven, their haven. Mateo was requesting a map to the gates of her life, which was a fortress built to keep the outside world out. Every instinct told me to be careful and to back off. Her mind was filled with Janice's security warnings, the constant paparazzi, and the oppressive control.

However, she noticed the quiet resolve that had already gotten him this far despite insurmountable odds when she looked at Mateo's face, which was earnest and hopeful in the starlight. She reflected on her own extreme loneliness and the genuineness she could only find with him. Didn't a part of her long for this connection to be genuine, hidden deep beneath the conditioning and the fear? To be located?

The tense silence was the scene of her internal struggle. She struggled with the urge to give him something versus the deep-rooted habit of self-defense as she turned her gaze away from him and toward the dream ocean. She didn't look directly at him when she finally spoke, her voice just above a whisper.

"There's a place," she said slowly, carefully selecting her words. "I occasionally stare out my window when I'm having trouble falling asleep. Not the primary ones... In the library, a smaller one." She hesitated, as though retrieving the information from a dimly remembered past. "The Griffith Observatory is visible from that location, high up on the hill. It has domes and is... white. It resembles a tiny crown that someone left behind at night.

Griffith Observatory. Mateo committed the name to his mind. It wasn't a street name or an address. It could be seen from a distance and was a public landmark. Not an invitation, but a hint. Indirect but specific. Unquestionable. Perfect logic for dreams.

Mateo inhaled, "Okay," the name akin to a physical coordinate. "All right. Griffith Observatory.

The clue's implication was decided between them. The prospect of meeting became very real when he could actually use it and navigate the real world to find that perspective.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Mateo whispered, expressing the idea that hovered between them. "We're meeting. Look at us, I mean. Your life and mine are two different worlds.

At last, Seraphina faced him once more, her eyes dark with a mix of fear and fascination, perhaps. "My world, Mateo, it's different. They are twisted by it. It all comes down to the security bubble, the image, and the brand. She spoke in a deep, deep voice. "What if we actually meet? What if this just breaks? What if you're let down when you see the actual me—the one stuck in the machine? Or what if you are somehow tainted by my world? or endangers you?" Raw and unadulterated, the fears poured out.

Mateo quietly retorted, "And what if I get there and I'm just… some guy? Some clumsy Portuguese guy who cleans boats and makes sketches? What if the man you converse with in your dreams isn't real?

They faced one another, the impossible starlight glaring at the vastness of the gap between their realities. There was a huge chance of disappointment, danger, and heartbreak, and the risks were immense. However, there was an indisputable current of excitement flowing beneath the fear. The excitement of the unknown, the allure of their special bond, and their willingness to cross the last barrier separating the conscious and unconscious minds, as well as between dreams and reality.

The stars dimmed and the sound of the waves faded into a far-off hum as the dream started to fade. They didn't plan the next course of action or make any promises. However, the possibility had been acknowledged and the clue had been provided. 'Griffith Observatory' echoed like a mantra in the pre-dawn silence as Mateo awoke in his narrow bed. The first physical piece of the map he needed was a breadcrumb, brittle and uncertain. A frightful flutter of hope clashed with deep-seated anxiety as Seraphina woke up in her quiet mansion, the image of the observatory vivid in her mind. She had only slightly opened a door, and now she had to live in constant fear and anticipation of who or what might knock on her door.