Geon found himself in a dream on December 7th, 1980, at New York's Central Park.
The park, situated in the heart of the city, was notably vast, fitting well into the extensive American land. The lush forest within the city seemed somewhat out of place yet oddly harmonious.
Without being disconcerted by this vivid dream—the third one he had experienced—Geon strolled around Central Park.
Despite the winter weather, people in thin hoodies and shorts exercised, kids frolicked on the grass, and a hotdog stand was stationed along the street. Everything felt serene.
Geon wandered through the park until he caught sight of a magnificent Renaissance-style building beyond the park's trees. Adorned with apricot-colored walls and a blue roof with pointed peaks, the structure resembled a lavish European cathedral from a distance.
While Geon observed the building for a while, he couldn't get closer as a gatekeeper dressed in black prevented access to the entrance. Spotting a bench a little further away that provided a view of the building, he approached and sat down to examine its details.
"Wow, that building looks amazing. Is it a hotel? I wish I could spend a day there."
Geon mumbled to himself, scratching the back of his head, when suddenly a hand appeared beside him.
"It's impressive, right? That's not a hotel, though. It's an apartment, Dakota Apartments."
Geon, startled by the sudden appearance of the person speaking, looked at him. The man had quietly seated himself next to Geon. Wearing small round glasses and having short brown wavy hair that seemed shorter compared to his face, the man had a rather pointed nose. Although he seemed a bit sharp, his slightly squinted eyes softened his overall appearance.
"Oh, yes, it is. An apartment, indeed. It's impressive, haha."
Geon replied, scratching the back of his head, while the man extended his hand towards Geon.
"What's wrong? Don't want it?"
Only then did Geon notice the man's hand in front of his face, holding a hotdog with steaming condiments. Perplexed, Geon looked at the man.
The man chuckled and extended his hand again, holding the hotdog. "Eat up. This hotdog is top-notch. It's been the best from my childhood in Strawberry Fields till now, never changed once in decades. Don't worry; it's only 50 cents. Gotta show some gratitude to the one admiring my home."
Geon accepted the hotdog, asking, "Is this your home? That big one there?"
The man slightly shook his head. "No, not entirely mine. It's an apartment. My real home is in England."
Taking a bite, Geon thanked him, "Wow, it tastes really good. Thank you."
The man smiled at Geon's reaction, "You're quite the handsome lad. Just don't smile carelessly in Harlem. If a handsome guy like you smiles so easily, the guys in Harlem might swarm you, thinking otherwise."
As Geon chuckled, the man glanced at the apartment again. "I always finish my recordings and come sit on this bench, looking at my home. Although it's spacious, my real home in England lacks the warmth and feeling of people living together."
Geon nodded. "Our home is an apartment too. The couple next door is quite nice. Sometimes, the noise between floors annoys us, but having neighbors feels good."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Noise between floors? Is the person above shooting a gun?"
Geon chuckled, "No, nothing like that. Just the sound of moving chairs or footsteps echoing a bit."
The man smirked. "That's nothing to fuss about. When living together, understanding each other is essential. Peace, my handsome friend, peace."
Geon nodded in agreement. "Yes, I've never been angry or said anything. But, sir, earlier you mentioned coming here after finishing recording. What do you do?"
The man furrowed his brow, looking at Geon. "Hmm, is it because I'm Asian? It's been a while since someone didn't recognize me. Quite refreshing, haha."
As the man stood up, he said, "The apartment. Want to take a look inside? Have a little tour?"
Unable to resist the man's insistence, Geon followed him into the apartment.
The lobby, adorned with various artworks, complemented the Renaissance-style exterior. Murals adorned the ceilings and floors. The man led Geon towards an elevator with intricate grilles, which creaked to a stop, taking them to the 6th floor. Passing through a long corridor lined with white doors, the man took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door at the far end.
"Yoko, I'm back," the man announced as they entered.
A woman's voice echoed from inside, "John, why are you so late?"
Geon froze at the threshold. "Yoko...? John...? Jo...Jo...John Lennon?!"
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