Chapter 6: Salt Air and Secrets
The metro car rattled through the tunnel, fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Kyle had his arm draped over the back of the seat, legs bouncing with restless energy.
"So then Nell, she's this friend of mine, right? She dared me to eat a ghost pepper taco from this place by the docks. Worst mistake of my life." He laughed, shaking his head. "I was drinking milk for like, two hours. My face was the color of a tomato."
Roha watched the darkness whip past the windows. The train swayed, and he gripped the metal pole beside him.
"I don't understand why you'd willingly do that to yourself."
"Because it's hilarious after it's over." Kyle grinned. "That's the secret to a good time. It's only fun if you're miserable in the moment and laughing about it later."
Roha considered this. He'd been trapped in a lamp for three centuries. He'd witnessed wars, famines, the rise and fall of dynasties. And yet somehow this pink-haired man had managed to present him with a philosophy he'd never once considered.
The train announced the next stop in a tinny voice, and Kyle's eyes lit up.
"This is us."
The doors slid open with a hiss, and Kyle bounded onto the platform. Roha followed at a more measured pace, stepping into the cool night air.
They emerged from the station into the waterfront district. The buildings here were older, converted warehouses with rusted steel beams and painted murals covering the brick walls. Strings of lights hung between streetlamps, and the faint sound of music drifted from a few open doorways.
Kyle swept his arm out like he was presenting a prize.
"Welcome to the industrial district. Or, as I like to call it, party central."
"These warehouses hold parties?"
"Hold them? They are parties." Kyle started walking, gesturing wildly. "There's this one warehouse, it's like, the size of a football field. They turn it into a whole rave whenever there's a holiday. Last Halloween they had go-go dancers in cages and a DJ set up inside a giant pumpkin."
Roha followed, unable to imagine such a spectacle. "A pumpkin large enough to contain a person?"
"Okay, it was a fake pumpkin. But it was huge." Kyle held his arms wide. "You could fit like four people in there."
They passed a group of people smoking outside one of the warehouses, laughing at something on someone's phone. Kyle waved at them like they were old friends. They waved back.
Roha looked up. Kyle was already back to rambling about warehouse parties, unaware.
The street ended at a low seawall, and beyond it, the ocean opened up. The city lights reflected across the water in rippling strips of gold and purple and blue. The waves rolled in slow and steady, the sound soft against the sand.
Kyle hopped over the wall and landed on the beach with a soft thud.
"Come on!" He kicked off his sneakers and started walking toward the water.
Roha hesitated, then followed. The sand was cool beneath his shoes, soft and yielding. He stopped a few feet from Kyle and took it in. The sky was a deep, starless black, but the horizon glowed with the scattered lights of ships and the distant shore. The water stretched out into darkness, vast and unknowable.
Kyle plopped down on the sand and looked up at him.
"I come here sometimes after clubbing. Just to cool off, you know? Listen to the waves. It's like the city's heartbeat, kind of."
Roha lowered himself to sit beside him. The sand crunched under his weight. He stared at the water, feeling the rhythm of the tide against his own steady pulse.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
The waves washed in. The city hummed behind them. Kyle's breathing slowed for the first time since they'd met.
"This is nice," Roha said, and was surprised to mean it.
"Yeah." Kyle smiled at the water. "I thought you'd get it."
Roha pulled his knees up and rested his forearms on them. The golden band on his wrist caught the light. He watched the waves break and recede, over and over.
"Kyle."
"Mmm?"
"If you had two wishes," Roha asked, "what would you wish for?"
Kyle blinked at him. "Isn't it supposed to be three wishes?"
Roha grumbled under his breath. "Let's say it's just two. What would you wish for?"
Kyle opened his mouth, then closed it. He stared out at the water, and for once, he actually stopped bouncing. The waves rolled in, filling the silence between them.
"I dunno," he finally said. "It's like, too much. Ya know?"
Roha didn't know. In his experience, people answered instantly. Riches. Power. Immortality. They never paused. They never thought about the weight of the words leaving their mouth.
"So many options," Kyle continued. "Do you be selfish, or do something big, like a big party for all of humanity? Or cure cancer?" He paused, scratching his chin. "Or would it go bad? Like if you didn't wish right and cancer got cured, but everyone gets eczema instead?"
Roha's eyebrow rose. "Eczema."
"Yeah, you know, the itchy skin thing."
"I know what eczema is." Roha studied him. Three thousand years of wishers, and not once had anyone worried about the consequences. They'd been kings, conquerors, desperate men and women willing to trade anything for a shortcut. Not one of them had stopped to consider the itch.
"It's stupid," Kyle said, misreading his silence. "I suck at this game. OOOH, how about would you rather? I'll go first!" He slapped his knees. "Would you rather eat a pound of cheese or a pound of peanut butter?"
Roha stared. The question hung in the air, absurd and weightless.
"Why would anyone do either of those things?"
Kyle burst out laughing, falling back into the sand.
"That's the game, dude. You don't actually have to do it, it's just about making a choice."
Roha turned that over in his mind. A game of choice. No stakes, no wish fees, no twisted wording. Just choosing for the sake of choosing.
"I can choose," he said quietly, almost to himself.
Kyle sat up, brushing sand off his elbows. "Yeah. That's the whole point. You pick, and that's it. You don't win or lose, ither way it doesn't matter."
Roha stared out at the dark water. He had never had a choice in his existence. He was bound to a lamp, bound to a contract, bound to whoever rubbed the brass the right way. But this afternoon he had wandered a city alone, eaten a pastry, taken photographs in a park. Small freedoms he had never known. And now this strange pink-haired man beside him was asking him what he would want.
"Cheese," Roha said.
Kyle's face split into a huge grin. "Yes! Dude, same! Sometimes at work I'll make a pizza with extra extra extra cheese, and it's sooo good." He flopped back on the sand, arms behind his head. "Peanut butter though? Your mouth would get so tired. Like, you'd be chewing for hours and your jaw would just give up."
Roha let out a low chuckle, surprising himself. "I hadn't considered the jaw mechanics."
"See, that's what I'm good at. The important stuff." Kyle sat up and pointed at him. "Okay. Your turn. Whatcha got for me?"
Roha's chest tightened. He could ask it now. One carefully worded question, phrased like a game, could nudge Kyle toward a wish. The obligation hummed inside him, old and familiar, tugging at his thoughts. Two wishes remained. Two chances to finally be free of the lamp, to end his servitude after three thousand years.
But the friendship magic pulsed just as strong, warm and insistent, pushing him toward connection instead of contract. It felt like standing between two tides.
He looked at Kyle's bright, expectant eyes, so open and trusting. No plot behind them. No scheme. Just a guy on a beach waiting to be entertained.
"I can choose," Roha murmured.
"Huh?"
"Nothing." Roha straightened up, running his fingers through his hair. "Would you rather have the tail of a monkey, or a cat?"
Kyle's eyes went wide. "Ooh, that's such a good one!" He rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. "Okay, so, monkey tail. You could hang from stuff, hold extra things, that's genuinely useful. But cat tails are so fluffy, and I like that." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Besides, I already know what I look like with one."
"You do?"
"I was a cat boy for a Halloween club event last year." Kyle pulled out his phone, swiping through photos. "Hold on, it's here somewhere. Dude, I had the whole set. Ears, tail, little bell collar. Nell went as a mouse. It was hilarious."
Kyle found the photo and shoved the phone in Roha's face, bouncing with excitement. "Check it out. I look pretty good, huh?"
Roha leaned in. The photo showed Kyle in orange cat ears, an orange mesh tank top that left very little to the imagination, and short shorts that were aggressively orange. A fake tail drooped off his belt, looking less like a cat and more like a sad string of yarn. Beside him, a girl with dark curly hair wore mouse ears and a matching grey top, one hand making a peace sign at the camera.
Roha studied the image. It was absurd. The mesh, the ears, the energy radiating off Kyle's grinning face. But that grin was real. Genuine happiness poured out of the screen, crackling like static.
Kyle's grin froze mid-bounce, phone still in Roha's face. "Oh right! Nell's working tonight! We should go see her! She'll totally hook us up with free drinks!"
Roha blinked. "Nell the mouse?"
"Best friend, absolute legend, and tonight she's behind the bar at Siren." Kyle was already on his feet, shoving his phone in his pocket and brushing sand off his shorts. "Come on, it's like a ten minute walk. Well, a five minute walk if we're fast."
Roha rose slowly, brushing sand from his trousers and followed, his skepticism visible in the set of his jaw. "Why would she give us free drinks?"
"Because she loves me." Kyle waved a hand. "She'll get a kick outta you too. Trust me."