Chapter 16: The Second Wish
The night air hit them like a soft blanket, warm and thick with the smell of rain on asphalt. Kyle's arm was slung around Nell's shoulders, his other hand gesturing wildly as he recounted some dance move he'd pulled off inside Pulse.
"And then, okay, okay, listen," Kyle said, stumbling slightly over a crack in the sidewalk. "The bass dropped, right? And I just, I went like this."
He attempted to demonstrate the move, nearly taking Nell down with him.
"Careful, drama queen," Nell laughed, steadying him. "I already saw you do that move like forty times tonight. It was good the first thirty-nine."
Joaquin walked on Kyle's other side, his shirt untucked and his hair a mess. "That drop was insane though. The light show? I've never seen anything like it. Whoever designed that space deserves a raise."
"It was pretty sick," Kyle agreed. "I'm still feeling the bass in my chest."
They rounded a corner, the glow of the club district fading behind them. The street stretched ahead, quiet and dark, lined with shuttered shops and the occasional flickering streetlight. Roha walked a few steps behind them, his hands in his pockets, watching the way Kyle's laughter echoed off the buildings.
His chest felt light. Lighter than it had in three thousand years. Everyone had danced tonight. Nell had pulled him into a spinning move that left him dizzy. Joaquin had taught him a handshake. Kyle had kissed him twice, once slow and once desperate, right against the speaker stack.
He'd never felt anything like that. Like he mattered.
"Man, I'm starving," Kyle announced, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He pressed a hand to his stomach. "Like, actually starving. Not even a little hungry. Full-blown crisis."
"Same," Joaquin said, pulling out his phone and squinting at the screen. "But it's like two in the morning. Everything's closed."
"Criminal," Nell said. "An absolute crime against humanity."
Kyle swayed on his feet, a dreamy expression crossing his face. "I would kill for a corn dog right now. Like, just a nice greasy corn dog. Maybe two. With extra mustard."
Nell snorted. "Corn dogs? That's what you're craving after a night at the hottest club in the city?"
"Don't judge me," Kyle said. "I wish there was some place open 24 hours that served corn dogs, wouldn't that be awesome?"
Nell and Joaquin laughed, the sound bright and careless in the empty street.
Roha stopped walking.
His feet locked to the pavement like they'd grown roots. The words hit him, not through his ears but through his chest. A pull. A snap. The unmistakable vibration of a wish being spoken into existence.
No.
The magic surged through him, hot and insistent, wrapping around his ribs like a coiled snake. His vision blurred at the edges. The street shimmered, reality bending at his fingertips, waiting for him to shape it.
No, no, no.
Roha gritted his teeth. He pushed back against the pull, flexing every bit of will he had. For the first time in his existence, he tried to refuse a wish. Kyle didn't mean it. He was drunk and tired and talking to his friends. He didn't mean it.
Kyle deserved better than this. His first wish had been for friendship. His second should be for something real, something that changed his life, something he actually wanted.
The magic pushed harder. It didn't care about intention. It didn't care about fairness. A wish had been spoken, and he was bound to grant it.
Roha's hands clenched at his sides. A shudder ran through him, and the air warmed around him. Two blocks away, a flicker of light ignited.
"Yo, Roha!"
Kyle's voice cut through the haze. He'd turned around, his brow furrowed, a concerned smile tugging at his mouth. "You good, man? You look like you saw a ghost."
Roha blinked. The pressure in his chest eased, settling into something dull and heavy.
"It's nothing," he said.
He walked forward, his steps measured, careful. His eyes drifted past Kyle to the glow at the end of the street. A small storefront, warm yellow light spilling through a plate-glass window. A sign above the door flickered on, letters glowing red and white.
"Holy shit," Joaquin breathed, spotting it. "That place is open! Think they serve corn dogs?"
Kyle spun around so fast he almost fell. His face lit up like the sign itself. "Are you kidding me? Let's GO."
He broke into a jog, Nell and Joaquin laughing as they followed.
Roha watched them go. He stayed where he was for one more breath. Then he followed, because there wasn't anything else he could do anymore.
The shop smelled like hot oil and fried batter, the kind of smell that wrapped around you the second you stepped through the door. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, buzzing over a handful of plastic tables bolted to the floor. Behind the counter, a guy in a paper hat was flipping something on a grill, not looking up.
Kyle beelined for the counter like he'd just found treasure. "This is unreal. This is actually unreal. A 24-hour corn dog place. Who does that?"
"Apparently the universe," Joaquin said, already pulling out his wallet. "Because you literally asked for it."
"I asked for it in a general sense, not a specific one." Kyle turned to the guy behind the counter, beaming. "Can I get two corn dogs? Extra mustard?"
"Corn dogs for everyone," Joaquin announced, stepping up beside him. "Nell, you in?"
"Obviously. And tater tots if they have them." Nell slid into a booth by the window, kicking her heels off under the table with a relieved sigh. "This place is a miracle. I don't even know how we found it."
Roha stood by the door. His hands were still in his pockets, his shoulders tight. The magic had settled, but the weight of it pressed against his chest like a stone lodged under his ribs. Two blocks away, reality had bent because a drunk guy had said the word wish without meaning it.
And he'd done that. He'd built a restaurant out of thin air because he couldn't say no.
"You getting something?" Kyle called over.
Roha shook his head. "I'm not hungry."
"You're always hungry. You ate like four tacos last week." Kyle squinted at him. "You sure you're okay? You got real quiet after we left."
"I'm fine." Roha made himself move, crossing to the booth and sliding in across from Nell. She raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything.
The counter guy delivered a tray of corn dogs and a basket of tots. Joaquin passed them out, and Kyle bit into his corn dog with an actual moan of happiness.
"Okay. That is the best thing I've ever eaten."
"It's a corn dog, Kyle," Nell said, but she was smiling, dipping one in ketchup.
"No, you don't get it. This is the perfect moment. Great night, great friends, great corn dogs." Kyle gestured with his free hand. "This is what life's about."
Roha watched him. The joy on Kyle's face wasn't forced. It wasn't performative. It was just there, plain and bright and real, all because of a cheap fried sausage on a stick. A thing Roha had made without even wanting to.
The stone in his chest loosened a little.
He didn't eat. He just watched the three of them laugh and talk over each other, their voices blurring into the hum of the fluorescent lights. Kyle reached over and stole one of Joaquin's tots, and Joaquin swatted his hand away, and Nell rolled her eyes at both of them.
Roha found himself smiling. Small, barely there, but real.
Kyle noticed. His expression softened, and he tilted his head. "There he is. Told you the corn dog would help."
"Was it the corn dog?" Roha asked.
"It's always the corn dog." Kyle winked and went back to his food.
Roha's eyes drifted to his own wrist. The gold band sat there, heavy and ancient, warm against his skin. Three wishes. One spent on friendship he didn't ask for but couldn't imagine giving up. One spent on a restaurant that made Kyle smile. His last wish was out there somewhere, waiting, and if Kyle made it by accident, just like this one, the magic would take Roha wherever the contract said he belonged next.
He couldn't let that happen. Not while Kyle was drunk and carefree and saying words without thinking. He had to be careful. He had to be ready.
But for now, he was here. And Kyle was happy. And Roha let himself sit in that feeling, just for a moment, before reaching for a tot.