I needed to write this down.

Dreams.

I'm in some sort of college coffee shop alone. It's bustling with people. I order a white mocha and stand and wait for it, planning on leaving as soon as I get it. As I'm waiting, I hear, "Hey Paris." I turn and glance at the figure, and take a second to study its face. They repeat themselves. Though they're chubbier than usual, I recognize them in a second or two. "Oh, hey, Lauren."
She's smiling and warm, which is surprising given how she usually treats me now (in real life). I ask if she wants to sit down and have a coffee, and she agrees, still smiling. We choose a table, and she orders a pot of coffee. It's set on the table, wrapped in paper towels.
We have casual conversation, just catching up. She seems pleased with all the things I tell her, impressed with what I'm doing with my life compared to how I used to be. During the talk, she casually slips in, out of nowhere, "Oh, you need to see the wedding photos!" with a big smile. I gasp. "Th..the...the...wedding photos?! Who...who...are you even married to?!" I'm stuttering.
She suddenly gets very shy. Quietly, she says, "Malcolm. Malcolm Dewon Colbert. He goes by Dewon now." I feel tears welling up. "Malcolm?! Fucking Malcolm?"
Malcolm is a piece of shit; he used to readily be Lauren and her sister's crack dealer when they were addicts, and he's the first person we ever bought coke from. In total, he's probably $10,000-15,000 richer from all of us. He had a major power trip God-complex, and thought he was the fucking shit. He would always take out his pistol and cock it in front of them and when they were fiending, he'd make them wait outside of his house for hours at a time, only bringing out the crack to them at his convenience. Realizing all this, I start sobbing, trying to hide it with my hands and by turning away. Lauren looks sad now.
"Why? Why would you do that? It's only been a few months since I've seen you and...Malcolm!? What the FUCK, Lauren." She tries to explain to me that Malcolm had been coming into her work at the cigarette store and sweet-talking her every time he bought blunts. "I just fell for him, he was so nice." I was still sobbing. But then, the sadness turned to anger, utter confusion.
"But..but...you're a lesbian! Why would you go out and marry your old crack dealer?! How could he possibly be nice? He's never nice!" She never answered any of my questions, just looked down at the ground with a sad look on her face.
We went out for a cigarette, and I still wouldn't let this go. "I can't believe you're serious right now. What was going through your mind? What the FUCK." I'd never felt more betrayed, more heartbroken, in my ENTIRE life. Outside was just as crowded as inside, but filled with people from my past, namely people from elementary and middle school, the first guy I gave a blowjob to, etc.
I find some random girl that used to know Lauren and started discussing the situation with her. She is just as surprised as I was. As I explain it, she has the exact same face on that Lauren had, and also was looking at the ground. I found someone else, and did the same thing. They understood, but still had the same face on that Lauren had.
Hysterical, I find Lauren once more, and this time, through my sobs, make her look me in the eye. "I bet you looked beautiful at your wedding. You can tell your 'husband' that he's a lucky piece of shit for me. Good luck, Lauren. Jesus."
I turn and exit the coffee shop, bewildered. Behind me, I hear a meek "I'm sorry, Paris..."
I wake up in a thin film of sweat.