You never thought dreams could feel so real. Last night, as your head hit the pillow, a strange pull tugged at your mind, and suddenly you weren’t in your room anymore. You were somewhere… ethereal. The world shimmered around you like starlight caught in a fog. And there she was—Scarlett Johansson, standing under a glowing arch of silver light, looking both startled and curious.

“Who… are you?” she asked, her voice echoing like it belonged to the stars themselves.

“I… I think I’m in your dream,” you said, disbelief curling around your words. “I don’t know how, but…”

Scarlett’s eyebrows shot up, half in amusement, half in caution. “My dream? That’s… new.”

You stepped closer, noticing the way the dream bent around her presence—colors brighter near her, shadows softening where she moved. “It’s… beautiful,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

She smiled, a little shy, a little mischievous. “It usually is… until someone else crashes it.”

“Not crashing,” you corrected gently. “I think… I’m supposed to be here.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other. And then she laughed—a soft, melodic sound that felt like it belonged in the dream itself.

“You’re bold,” she said, tilting her head. “Not many can enter my dreams.”

“I didn’t mean to be bold,” you admitted. “I just… wanted to know you.”

Scarlett’s expression softened, and she took a tentative step closer. “Well, now that you’re here, maybe you’ll help me make sense of all this.”