Side Story 2–3
This dream’s setup is really bizarre.
Why am I still working at the same company as Carlisle even in a dream?
Why am I close enough to the male lead—who’s the team leader of the team next to ours—to have dinner together on a weekday evening?
This is basically an office romance at minimum.
Somehow, we ate, talked, and then ended up walking along the river together.
“Come to think of it, didn’t we go to a river like this after a company dinner once? When was that again?”
“Right. You even threw off your shoes and jumped straight into the water—”
“I’m sorry. Please forget that.”
Damn it. Even in my dreams, I’m digging my own grave.
But Carlisle laughed out loud.
I was genuinely shocked. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard him laugh.
“It’s fine.”
And the shock doubled, because I didn’t know he could smile so gently.
“If you ever fall in again, I’ll go in after you.”
“Ah—y-yes. Thank you.”
I suddenly felt embarrassed and looked away.
This is all because the male lead’s base model is just too good.
As expected, if someone’s handsome, they look good no matter what you put them in. Totally unfair.
Maybe because this world has less overtime than the romance-fantasy one, the dark circles under his eyes were lighter.
But little by little, my mouth started itching like crazy.
So what exactly are we in this dream?!
What did we even do for me to write “so excited” on my schedule?
Get a grip!
Didn’t I say right before falling asleep that romance flags had nothing to do with my life?
All I want now is a resignation flag!
While I was thinking all that, we reached a convenience store. The male lead told me to wait and went to buy something.
“Oh, that’s…”
He was holding ice cream.
And it was my favorite flavor.
“It’s the one you like.”
“……”
“Is it not?”
I took the ice cream from Carlisle and stared at it.
This is a modern-world dream. There’s no magic in this setting.
So the male lead isn’t suddenly going to turn into a dog halfway through.
If that’s the case…
I should be able to ask more directly and get an answer.
As long as the river doesn’t suddenly flood.
“Senior.”
“Hm?”
“Do you like me?”
Carlisle found this dream far more enjoyable than he’d expected.
Well, there were a lot of things that didn’t make sense at first.
Working in a rigid office without magic felt strange at first.
The people above him were even less capable than those in the Arpelt Imperial Palace, which was impressive in its own way.
But thankfully, in this dream, his junior was there.
More than anything, his junior smiled more here… and that was nice.
Wanting to see that smile, he handed over a dessert she liked.
But he never expected to be asked this.
“Do you like me?”
“……!”
Carlisle’s heart began pounding violently.
And yet, despite how hard it was beating, he didn’t turn into a dog in this dream.
Of course, humans turning into dogs wasn’t normal in the first place.
I have to… answer.
This was a dream, so there was no need to be embarrassed.
Layla Lowell was his junior, so there was no need to subconsciously suppress these feelings as something wrong…
Ah.
Only then did Carlisle vaguely understand.
Why he kept lying to himself, calling this feeling “myocardial infarction.”
Because if he said it out loud and things went wrong, he might end up drifting away from this junior forever…
But dreams were a little kinder than reality, weren’t they?
“Yes.”
This was a dream.
Even so, his heart hurt as if it might burst while he spoke.
“If I do… would that be all right with you?”
In the dark night, the lights shimmered as they sank into the river.
And Layla’s face slowly brightened with a smile.
“Well, actually… I also—”
…Hello again, everyone. It’s me, the Lara Bed.
It’s been about thirty minutes since Layla and Carlisle fell asleep.
Is my special function—Showing the Dream You Want to See—working well?
I’m an amazing Lara Bed, you see. I can even peek into the dreams of people who are sleeping.
So, what kind of dreams are they having…?
Ah, thank goodness!
Hehe, it looks like both Carlisle and Layla are enjoying the dreams I’m showing them.
But if a dream is too good, it becomes hard to adapt to reality afterward, you know?
Especially when that reality means going back to work.
So at times like this, I have to help.
How, you ask?
By completely changing the dream content.
For example, how about showing Layla this?
Layla Lowell,
Regarding the upcoming workshop, the reservation for the annex palace venue has been canceled.
(An official document will be sent separately.)
As such, we urgently need to secure a new venue. Please confirm and reserve a new location by midnight tonight.
As the deadline is extremely tight, we would greatly appreciate your immediate reply upon reading this.
Ta-da!
Even though it’s a dream, should I make the deadline feel real by setting it at midnight?
“G—gh… huaaaargh!”
And with that, Layla let out a magnificent scream, jumping from middle C to high G in one go!
Aaaaaaah!
The venue reservation for the workshop might be ruined?!
“Gasp—huff!”
“Lowell?! What’s wrong?!”
When I started convulsing, the male lead came rushing out from the next room.
I thrashed around on the bed like someone drowning.
“I—I got a mail, no—a letter! The venue! The documents!”
“Calm down, Lowell!”
The male lead grabbed both my shoulders firmly.
“You’ve only been asleep for thirty minutes. Nothing happened.”
“Huff… huff…!”
I stared blankly back and forth between him and the clock on the wall.
Just as he said, only thirty minutes had passed.
But somehow, I felt like I’d aged thirty years in an instant…
“Are you fully awake now?”
“Yes…”
“Feeling a bit better?”
“I—I think so…”
I awkwardly rubbed my cheeks.
Thanks to this Lara Bed, my mind and body did feel perfectly fine.
But why did it feel like my mental health had dropped by about twenty points?
Shivering, I shook my head.
“No matter how good it is, I’m never using this bed again… Dreaming about work feels like going to work twice…”
“Hm, really?”
The male lead frowned, looking disappointed.
“That’s strange. This bed usually gives people good dreams.”
“I mean… I think it did. But…”
I bit my lip and clutched my head.
I was definitely having another dream before that email.
And it was a really good one—one where I wanted to know what happened next.
And for some reason, seeing Carlisle’s face made that regret even stronger.
It wasn’t like he woke me up. So why?
I thought about it for a few more seconds, then gave up.
“Ha… I forgot everything.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Good dreams are hard to remember once you wake up anyway.”
“That’s true…”
As we returned to our desks together, Carlisle muttered regretfully.
“Come to think of it, I think I had a good dream too, when I nodded off.”
“What kind of dream was it?”
“…I don’t remember that part. I only remember Edgar telling me to attend a meeting in his place.”
“……”
“One minute before the meeting started.”
Poor thing. I looked at my senior with sympathetic eyes.
Seniors get chewed up by their bosses just like the rest of us.
Whatever. Let’s just work.
Please, let us both get off work on time!
Ah, oh no!
Both Layla and Carlisle can’t remember anything about the dreams they wanted to see.
Was the work dream just too intense? That’s such a shame.
Especially since I’m just a bed and can’t talk.
Still, if the two of them ever remembered those happy dreams…
Would something have changed?
No one can know.
Anyway, today as well, I did my very best for the Black Spoon Department.
But just as Layla said, no matter how good a bed is, nothing beats resting at home.
So everyone, have happy dreams at home.
This has been the Lara Bed.
<Side Story 2. The End>
