cherry, performing and old man

I dyed my hair a shade of cherry: deep pink brown with luscious berry streaks. I found two dark pinks lipsticks, quite different to shades I would choose in waking life, and thought that they would match nicely with my new hair colour. I tried the first lipstick but it crumbled in its case as it was so old. I threw it away. The second lipstick was creamy and moist. I applied it and felt satisfied.
Next, I was about to perform in a show; at times the show was in a theatre and at times it was in an outdoor auditorium space. I was ready to walk down the stairs into the audience, arriving from the rear of the theatre, when I bumped into a mentor of mine. I told her that I that I had not been singing in public for some years and I spoke of the nerves that choked me and of my desire to overcome them. She told me that, besides singing as the last act in the show, I would be acting in a short play earlier in the evening. I could not remember rehearsing the play and felt quite panicked, knowing that I had no idea about the lines or even the concept of the play itself. Nevertheless, I was prepared to perform and continued down the stairs into the audience where I would wait for my cue.
Next, I recall another show about to begin. I had been invited to see it but I had discovered that a particular performer was the lead in the show and I instantly lost interest. I crept into the filling auditorium to recover a few of my belongings that I had placed on a seat in the back row. Particularly, I was looking for my toothbrush so that I could brush my teeth. I left the theatre as quietly as possible.
Finally, B and I were walking through the main street of Maleny. It was very different to the street as it is in waking life, but I knew that I was in Maleny. We passed a busker who had a dangerous energy. He was of indefinite age although I could see that he probably looked a lot older than he was because of a rough and scarred life. He was wearing an old, worn flannelette shirt and ripped trousers, sported a beard, and we could smell him as we walked past. He reeked. B walked ahead of me and slipped into a vintage store, perhaps to lose the man who seemed to follow us up the street. By the time I reached the store, I walked in but couldn't see her. I felt sure that the man was following us and looked for somewhere to hide. For a moment, I was distracted by a cherry silk top hanging among the vintage clothing, but upon closer examination, it was covered in stains. I saw a changing room covered by an old curtain, so I pulled the curtain aside. B was in there, hiding, so I joined her and we both hid from the man. Sure enough, he followed us in and hunted for us amid the vintage wares. He soon spotted the changing room and walked over; we could smell him coming. He tugged at the curtain and we tried in vain to hold it fast. He opened it and stuck his head through, sneering at us. B managed to leave the store, waiting for me outside. She became another person entirely: a young, blonde woman. From inside the shop, I watched as the man went outside and embraced the young woman. She looked surprised, perhaps even repulsed, but she also swooned at his touch. She said that she had not felt such passion in an embrace for the longest time.