Page 10 of Fire and Silk

Somewhere between Mirage and nowhere – 4:03 AM

The street is dead quiet at this hour. Just wind, neon bleed on the pavement, and our tired feet slapping in uneven rhythm.

My boots are murder. The heel wore down halfway through the shift, and now every step feels like walking on one raw nerve. My tights are ripped at the knee. There’s sticky syrup on the side of my arm from a spilled cocktail tray I didn’t dodge fast enough.

Nicola doesn’t look much better—her gloss is faded, her bun half-collapsed, the neckline of her crop top slipping off one shoulder. She holds her heels in one hand and walks barefoot on the concrete, eyes squinting against the wind.

Still, she smiles. Because she always does.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night at my place?” she asks, voice scratchy with sleep and smoke. “My air conditioning’s finally working again.”

I let out a yawn so wide my eyes water. “I’d love to, but I’m not mentally ready to pretend I can’t hear your neighbors fucking.”

Nicola bursts into a laugh, loud and tired. “It’s not that bad!”

“It’s like amateur porn with bad sound design,” I mutter, dragging my sleeve over my forehead.

She giggles and bumps my arm with hers. “Okay, yeah—it’s bad. But I’m saving. Seriously. I’ve got a budget app now and everything. I was thinking—maybe when the lease is up, we find a place together?”

The question hits soft, but somewhere deep.

I want to say yes. I want to sayGod, yes, please.But rent isn’t just rent when your bank account is a battlefield of overdue bills, debt, and the ghost of who you used to be.

I start to speak, then hesitate.

“I can’t always cover rent,” I say quietly, eyes down. “My bills are still a mess.”

“I know,” Nicola replies instantly. Like she was waiting for the excuse. “We’ll figure it out.”

Her voice is warm. Like she believes we will.

I want to trust her. I want to lean in and believe she’ll hold the weight with me. But everyone I’ve ever trusted has broken something.

Not because they meant to. But because theycould.

So instead, I fake it. I push a grin through the ache in my chest and turn toward her.

“I’d be a terrible roommate,” I whisper. “I leave the lights on and steal all the blankets.”

She opens her arms dramatically. “Perfect. I sleep like a rock and Iamthe blanket.”

I laugh. A real one . Then I pull her in for a hug—tight, playful. I kiss the top of her head because I know she likes it, and she squeals like I’ve tickled her soul.

We stand there, girls and ghosts, giggling in the wind like we aren’t freezing, like our knees aren’t shaking from hours of standing, like the weight of the world hasn’t already carved its name into our backs.

“I’d paint my walls pink for you,” Nicola murmurs as we start walking again.

“I’d burn your walls down for silence,” I reply.

She throws her head back, laughing again.

And for a moment, it feels like something real is possible.

****

Lira’s Apartment – 4:34 AM

The key jams halfway in.