[Fred barely wakes this time, only enough to roll over in bed, seek a new position. The uncomfortable feelings of being invisible in front of a crowd... they're there, yet they're not. The whole thing seems familiar... speaking in front of a crowd, speaking to people that look like that... it all seems so familiar.

The gaze of the person wearing the suit (or is it an android) was far too intense; Fred's thoughts skitter away from that, to focus (dimly, sleepily) on the other elements of the dream. The flower that goes to ash... being up on a stage... no one seeing you, invisible again... the pain of being ignored...

She blinks once, twice, and slips back into sleep, the painful loneliness chasing her on her way.]