Peter Griffin is in my dream. He's in his typical mood of defying rules and danger. He's in a desertic flatland, looks like Nevada. There are some buildings and companies, even a military base protected with barb wires, but every building is very apart from each other. Peter is riding an orange electric scooter, doing tricks in the middle of traffic while the drivers honk and yell at him. In his recklessness, he crashes with a truck. He gets up like nothing, takes his scooter and enters a high school gym while I follow along.
Inside the gym there's a pop band performing. There's no one else there, just this group of six teenagers, three girls and three boys, dancing and singing. They look like professionals. The girls are wearing clothes so revealing that I can see their nipples and other intimate parts. They don't appear to care. Peter is delighted by this.
One of the girls becomes my friend. She's very beautiful, slim, with a pixie haircut, short light brown hair. She's wearing a Bleu de France dress, or more like an overall; she's wearing blue glitter make-up and Converse snickers. She tells me they have very little time for rehearsal and activities related to the band. They are all very busy since they are about to finish high school. She doesn't know the fate of the group after that.
Then I see one of the other boys from the band talking with the manager of the group, who is also a teacher in the school. They are discussing his grades. The boy is about to fail his last year. He feels quite stupid and discouraged, but he also feels he just must survive that year and make the best to pass.
I am very close with my new friend. The girls invite me to her house. Her room is my room in my parents' house. Inside of it, despite it short size, there's a steep hill. We go trekking. I follow all her footsteps while she encourages me. There are wood boards where you can step, but the sand is so loose that I end up falling to the ground. I am barely hanging from a rock and I am about to fall hill down. She helps me to get on my feet again. She says that I have to try anyways and that she will always be there for me to help me.
At the end of the road there's my (her) bed. A friend of her is there, a girl with long curly black hair. She leaves when we get there.
Now I see this girl is in the yard of a white house. There's a yard in the middle of the house, and in its center, there's a tree. Hanging from the tree there are clusters of pomegranate seeds. The girl picks them and eat them one by one while talking in the phone with my friend. I see my friend doesn't want to talk with her. She's rolling her eyes to the sky, impatient.