Living The Dream — 2025-11-05 (FREE and PUBLIC) (Patreon)

FREE for everyone!

Some posts and sections of some posts are reserved for Supporters.

AGI Stories content almost always appears on Patreon first, in advance of all other platforms. You get it first!

MAYBE I DREAM TOO MUCH by Jasmine Banks

I woke up early this morning so I could take my time getting ready for work without being in Micah’s way while he was getting ready for his. I was in the kitchen when he come out of the bedroom. I must’ve had some kind of look on my face.

He asked what I was thinking about, and I said, “Nothing… Just some of the patients on my hall at the nursing home…”

But that wasn’t true.

Ever since he made it, I keep replaying that picture—the one of us in Paris. I love it. I really do.

But every time I look at it, I feel this little ache in my chest. I guess because it feels so close and so far at the same time.

Micah says dreaming is free, and he’s right. But sometimes dreaming feels like window shopping for a life that belongs to someone else.

It’s not that I’m not grateful. I am—for everything. For this house, for him, for the chance to do good work. But there’s this quiet question in me that won’t go away: What if I’m meant for more? Or something different?

Going to nursing school to become an RN seems like it would be good work. More than being a CNA. But I can’t see any way to get started. We get by on what we make, but that’s about all.

And maybe there’s something else…

I used to think dreaming too big was a way to get hurt. Now I’m starting to think maybe it’s how you learn where your heart wants to go next.

So maybe I’ll stop worrying about whether it can happen and just keep dreaming anyway. And maybe I need to see if there are options out there for me that’s not on the far side of student loans.

The Storylines are the heart of Ailana Geven Imagines, and they are found in the Collections section of the site.

Support AGI with:• one-time contribution through TipTopJar.• one-time contribution through Throne.• Patreon Membership.

Pleast all characters in this story are fictional characters, their images generated with AI for AGI Stories. They do not represent any real person, nor is their appearance based on any real human.

FATEFUL MEETING by Kirina Yung

I’m on my way back to the gallery now, but I’m leaving behind me a chance meeting that has left my thoughts turning. It happened at the marina.

|| Read this and more on Patreon (link in bio). ||

The afternoon breeze carried salt spray and the sound of halyards tapping against masts as I headed for the parking lot. I’d spent the morning aboard Sea Glass, working in the little recording studio I’ve built there.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had thoughts about commercially successful music, but I’m building a bit of a catalog of cues and getting some digital airplay of a few niche ambient environmental tracks.

But as I started down the dock I was suddenly reminded of my years in the K-pop world. I was distracted, trying not to walk off the dock while digging my car keys out of my backpack when a voice I didn’t know said my name.

“Kirina Yung…” The tone was surprising and respectful, the accent slightly Korean.

I looked up at a man I’d never met before. He seemed to be around my age—I’m twenty-five—and his features fit his accent perfectly.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I am a big fan. You… You were my favorite member of the group.”

That was a big surprise. There were two other girls who generally claimed that distinction.

“Thank you. I’m not used to hearing that.”

He nodded and looked down. He seemed lost in thought.

I waited a moment and said, “What’s your name?”

”Eli Park… or Hyun-Woo… I go by Eli…” He paused, looked down for a few, long seconds, then continued. “This feels so surreal… I grew up watching you on videos and listening to your music. Now, here you are talking to me like a normal person.”

I smiled and looked down, maybe out of habit—old norms of my upbringing. “I am a normal person.”

“Oh, of course. I didn’t mean anything.”

And then, somehow, it felt like he stopped being my fan and became, instead, an acquaintance from the past re-met there on the dock.

The rest of this Chapter is exclusive to Patreon.

I asked why he was at the marina. He said he lived in Port Isabel and was a financial planner, and that he had an office there.

“I have a few clients in Corpus Christi. I called on them today, then thought I’d come by the marina just to stretch my legs before heading back south.”

We started walking toward the parking lot, and I told him about the gallery and the songs I write. I told him about the studio on Sea Glass.

He said it sounded amazing. “So, do you perform anymore?”

“Not really. I gave it a try, but a Korean girl singing mainstream pop isn’t common to most people.”

He smiled. “A Korean girl on the South Texas Coast isn’t very common, either. I don’t know any others, to be honest.”

I didn’t know how to react to that. I didn’t want to read between the lines, but it felt like a declaration of interest.

I simply said, “I suppose not…”

He seemed to be thinking about all we had said. He was smiling, but quiet.

“What brought you to the South Texas Coast?” I asked.

“I was born in Houston. I got my MBA at UT San Antonio, and met a guy there that has a financial planning business. He was a visiting lecturer. We stayed in contact and he had me open a branch office in Port Isabel. I have clients on South Padre Island, Brownsville, Laredo, Corpus Christi, like I said… It’s starting to take off, after a few slow years.”

By then we had come to his car. I didn’t feel like the conversation was complete, but it seemed like it needed to come to an end. Otherwise, we’d have to find somewhere else to continue talking.

I had the thought to invite him to the gallery. The manager, Mina, would be there, so it would be a safe public place to go. I talked myself out of it, but I couldn’t put my reasoning into words.

Instead, I said, “When will you be back in Corpus Christi? Maybe you could stop by and see the gallery?”

“Oh, that would be nice,” he replied. “Should I take your number so I can contact you and let you know?”

I gave him my phone number and told him it was great meeting him. He said he felt the same way, then he got into his car.

I stood watching as he drove away, then went back to my own car. As I stood there, it struck me that hearing a Korean accent, though subtle, felt oddly comforting—like a melody from another life finding its way back to me.

As I set out for the gallery, my head was spinning. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about this for a long time, and perhaps, one day he’ll call and we can pick up the discussion and see where it goes.

Be your best you!

Become a Patreon Member (Click Here)

"Thank You" Message to Paying Supporters:

Thank you very much for your help underwriting the cost of producing AGI Stories content. You can be sure that your paid membership is valued greatly! At the time of this post, not counting hardware, AGI Stories racks up expenses of just at $100 per month.

Patreon members… You are covering a nice portion of that.

I believe most of you who help with the costs are doing so because you want to support the production process and show your encouragement. That means so much to me! I am honored and greatly moved.

While most of the content on AGI Stories is free and much of it is public, the hope is that reserving a few pictures and small sections of the post for you is a modest indication of gratitude!

Again, thank you very, very much.

~AGI Original Stories & AI Images