I open my eyes. I’m surrounde<!– wp:details {“align”:”wide”,”style”:{“typography”:{“fontStyle”:”normal”,”fontWeight”:”500″}}} –>
<details class=”wp-block-details alignwide” style=”font-style:normal;font-weight:500″><summary>Lily’s Dream: Fantasy short story in which a teenage trans girl gets introduced to her cisgender self within a dream.</summary><!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I open my eyes. I’m surrounded by lights, fading in and out of every colour of the spectrum. I tap my foot. The ground below me feels like marble, but somehow it doesn’t hurt to stand on like marble usually does. I’m not cold, even though I’m still only wearing my <em>Sailor Moon</em> tank top and pyjama shorts. The only thing is, even though I’m surrounded by so many lights, I’m not sure I can see anything else.</p>
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<p>“LILY!” I hear a voice cry. I spin around to find it. I can’t see anything.</p>
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<p>I blink.</p>
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<p>A person has just appeared in front of me. They’re much taller than me, with long silvery blonde hair with space buns. They’re wearing a collared shirt, an orange pleated short skirt and white full-length gloves and socks. I rub my eyes. I didn’t see where they came from. What the <em>hell</em>?</p>
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<p>“Who are you?” I ask, startling slightly as I hear my voice echoing much louder than I intended.</p>
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<p>The girl taps thoughtfully on a long red wand I’ve just noticed in their hand.</p>
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<p>“Call me Ava,” she chirps. “And I use xe/xer pronouns. Cute, huh? Anyway…”</p>
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<p>Xe extends xer wand out towards me. I feel my heart quicken, but I don’t move.</p>
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<p>“You <em>are</em> Lily Kimberly Tyler, yes?” she asks. “I didn’t screw up again-”</p>
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<p>“No,” I answer, thinking that the best thing to do would just be to go with whatever this is. “No, that’s me.”</p>
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<p>“<em>Finally</em>,” Ava says, giggling. “Gold star for me! Now… let’s get started. Take a seat.”</p>
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<p>I turn around. There’s a plush pink armchair behind me. I fall into it. I follow the lights as they start moving around me, and realise that they’re fireflies. All shining different colours, seemingly taking joy in their light show. I try to make out more of wherever I am, any silhouette in the distance, but I still can’t see anything.</p>
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<p>Ava grins and takes xer own black armchair that has also just appeared. Xe crosses her legs and taps xer wand against her collar, grinning.</p>
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<p>“So, how old are you right now?”</p>
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<p>“Seventeen,”</p>
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<p>Ava nods, “Early in your life,” I fail to stifle a scoff, but xe ignores it. “And what’s your gender identity currently?”</p>
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<p>I shift uncomfortably, “I’m a trans girl,” I respond. “I came out two years ago. That’s basically it.”</p>
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<p>Ava nods again. “That sounds correct. Early days. So-”</p>
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<p>“What do you mean?” I shout suddenly. “Why are you asking these questions? Who are…?”</p>
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<p>I trail off. My eyes are starting to ache again. Come on, I don’t want to cry. I hate crying!</p>
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<p>“There’s no need to feel unsafe here,” Ava says calmly. “Does this place feel unfamiliar to you?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I gingerly turn around and look. I still can’t make out anything. Nothing apart from the hundreds of fireflies… but weirdly… no, it doesn’t. Xe’s right. There’s something weirdly comforting about this place. I’m definitely not anywhere I haven’t been before.</p>
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<p><br>“No,” I say stiffly. “But where am I?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Ava splits into a wide grin, as though xe have reached a part of the process xe’ve been looking forward to.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“What would you describe this as?” xe replies, annoyingly. “What does it <em>feel</em> like?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I shift further back into the chair, which somehow just grows more and more comfortable.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Can’t you just tell me?”</p>
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<p>“It’s better if you work it out for yourself.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I groan, fold my arms, and gaze around, searching for a feeling I can use to respond. Nothing seriously comes to mind. I’ve been a light show once, and it was one of the best nights of my life. One of the few times where I felt properly alive, truly in love. But even then, it wasn’t like this. This is better. This feels like it was crafted specifically for me, by the only person I truly let see myself.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I wrack my brain. What was I just doing? I was…</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Have I fallen asleep?” I ask. “Am I dreaming?”</p>
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<p>Ava’s grin grows agonisingly more playful. “Is that your final answer?”</p>
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<p>I sigh. “Am I inside my own mind?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Xe points xer wand in the air and launches a firework. It cracks above us and showers us in sparkles. I fail to stifle my own smile.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“So who are you then? Are you… me?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Xe giggles. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But no, I’m just a benevolent creature,” xe strokes her wand and sighs wistfully. “But at the end of it all, what am I doesn’t matter. What matters is what I’m capable of, and what I can do to help.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Ava winks at me, then raises xer wand again. I watch as xe spins it slowly, and realise that the environment around us is finally starting to reveal itself. A king-size bed appears behind me, then a bookcase filled with manga and all my favourite nerdy collectables from<em> Squirrel Girl</em>,<em> Sailor Moon</em> and <em>Doctor Who</em>, then a computer desk with three monitors and my shiny white computer that I used all my savings to get, then a vanity cabinet… ugh, it’s like my ideal bedroom. I feel called out as hell, but also extremely happy.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Is this what my bedroom will look like in my future?” I say, moving from the chair to the bed. It’s so soft.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“<em>Spoilers</em>!” Ava replies, smiling as I bounce gently on the bed. “Now… are we comfortable?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I tense up at that question, but nod. I sit as comfortably as I can while still looking at xer. Ava breathes deeply and twists xer wand thoughtfully.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Inspecting your mind,” she states intently, “relative to where you are in your life now… you’re in a pickle?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I snort. “You could say that.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“How do you feel about it?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I shuffle and blink. “Is this a counselling session?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Ava sits and smiles, continues twisting xer wand, and doesn’t say anything.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I feel shit about it,” I finally say. “How would anyone feel when they just had a friend attacked by a family member? How can I be expected to make friends when I’m always afraid that they’ll disappear?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I purse my lips. I hate counselling sessions. They’re always emotionally exhausting, the therapists keep trying to make me cry, and quite often I just leave feeling worse than when I came in. At least I have pretty computer lights and a sonic screwdriver in the room this time, I guess.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“It’s impossible to not wish I was just born cis,” I say. “I know it sucks to say, but it’s true. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t have anything to look forward to. I just want to feel normal and…”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I close my mouth tightly, realising that if I continue, I might start crying.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“And?” Ava says. I bite my tongue and breathe deeply.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I wish I had a family that didn’t hate me,” I add quickly.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Ava twists her wand and a big cup of lychee bubble tea appears at my feet. I pick it up and shove the straw into my mouth.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I wish I had this at all my counselling sessions,” I say, before taking a sip. Ah, it’s so refreshing.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“But Lily,” Ava says, “it’s not true that you don’t have things to look forward to in life. What about your found family? What about creative passions to explore?”<br><br></p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I stifle a snort.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“No one ever reads my writing,” I say. “I’ve never gone back to school since my parents kicked me out. I’m only out of a shelter because of Jessie.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Jessie, your friend?”</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Yes,” I say, making my bubble tea last as long as it can. “She’s a sex worker. I’m a minor so I can’t do that…” <em>as tempting as it gets to have the money, </em>I say in my head.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“And Jessie takes care of you?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“She’s the only person in my life I can even slightly trust. I’m only seventeen with no money. She’s twenty and never once tried to take advantage of me. I hate saying it, but that’s pretty awesome.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I take another deep breath to stop myself from crying.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I only ever had one girlfriend,” I continue, “and that never went anywhere so it feels like Jessie is all I’ve ever had sometimes. I love her but she’s not the same as having a family, and I never know if she’ll be safe at work. It sucks.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I take another big sip of my bubble tea. I chew carefully on one of the bubbles, closing my eyes to make the most of the delicious squishiness. I swallow and reopen my eyes. Ava is still smiling at me.</p>
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<p>“I’m sorry,” I mumble.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“You don’t need to apologise.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I’m still going to. I don’t know why you’re asking me these questions anyway, if you’re just a part of my mind. You should already know.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I never said I was a part of your mind,” Ava says lightly.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Well how are you here then?” I ask.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Ava shrugs. “I’m just cool like that. I want to help.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Help how?” I say. “What are you going to do? Are you going to give me unlimited money? Are you going to give me a family? Are you going to end the transphobia that’s torturing my life?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I bite hard on the straw, but feel my eyes drop some tears regardless. I try to bury my face in my cup to stop xe from seeing it, but I know xe probably did. It’s so embarrassing.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I wish I could,” Ava says roughly. “I can’t end transphobia, but I can make it easier to live with. If what I am looks like a blessing, it’s not. It’s a curse.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I lurch back up and stare at xer. Xer smile is gone. I grip the cup tight enough that my knuckles hurt.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Back in my world,” xe says, staring at xer wand, “Trans people were persecuted too. We changed our bodies using magic… but our government said that magic had to be regulated, that using it on our bodies was an affront to elven purity, and it needed to stop.”</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Xe wipes her eyes. I suck gently on my rapidly-ending bubble tea, my heart pounding.</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p><a></a> “Anyway, I was the leader of the rebellion. I tried to convince them that our magic wouldn’t just help us, it was for the good of everyone, cis people included. I told them that it could save lives. But they didn’t listen. They’re such <em>cowards</em>!”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Xe pauses again.</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“So they tried to kill me, but I was too strong for them. I was too talented. They threw me in prison, and I found a way out every time. Eventually… they removed me for good by finding a way to trap me in the ethereal world, flying forever from mind to mind. But I’m <em>still</em> too smart for them…”</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –>

<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>Xe cackles venomously, pointing xer wand to the sky and shooting fireworks in the colours of the trans flag. I duck. It’s so loud and spectacular.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“I found a way out again. I made it to this world, and I’ve made it my mission to find every trans girl I can find and help her realise her true potential. I’m sick of seeing us be reduced to a shells of our bright, shining selves just because society refuses to appreciate us. If I have anything to do about it, I won’t let that happen.”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I lower my now-empty cup, my fingers tingling with my racing heart.</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“But you’re just a part of my mind,” I say. “You’re not real, you’re just-”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I jolt as I feel my cup get heavy again. It’s refilled with-</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>“Melon,” xe says. “Tastes good, right?”</p>
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<!– wp:paragraph –>
<p>I suck on the straw. Yes, it does.</p>
<!– /wp:paragraph –></details>
<!– /wp:details –>d by lights, fading in and out of every colour of the spectrum. I tap my foot. The ground below me feels like marble, but somehow it doesn’t hurt to stand on like marble usually does. I’m not cold, even though I’m still only wearing my Sailor Moon tank top and pyjama shorts. The only thing is, even though I’m surrounded by so many lights, I’m not sure I can see anything else.

“LILY!” I hear a voice cry. I spin around to find it. I can’t see anything.

I blink.

A person has just appeared in front of me. They’re much taller than me, with long silvery blonde hair with space buns. They’re wearing a collared shirt, an orange pleated short skirt and white full-length gloves and socks. I rub my eyes. I didn’t see where they came from. What the hell?

“Who are you?” I ask, startling slightly as I hear my voice echoing much louder than I intended.

The girl taps thoughtfully on a long red wand I’ve just noticed in their hand.

“Call me Ava,” she chirps. “And I use xe/xer pronouns. Cute, huh? Anyway…”

Xe extends xer wand out towards me. I feel my heart quicken, but I don’t move.

“You are Lily Kimberly Tyler, yes?” she asks. “I didn’t screw up again-”

“No,” I answer, thinking that the best thing to do would just be to go with whatever this is. “No, that’s me.”

“Finally,” Ava says, giggling. “Gold star for me! Now… let’s get started. Take a seat.”

I turn around. There’s a plush pink armchair behind me. I fall into it. I follow the lights as they start moving around me, and realise that they’re fireflies. All shining different colours, seemingly taking joy in their light show. I try to make out more of wherever I am, any silhouette in the distance, but I still can’t see anything.

Ava grins and takes xer own black armchair that has also just appeared. Xe crosses her legs and taps xer wand against her collar, grinning.

“So, how old are you right now?”

“Seventeen,”

Ava nods, “Early in your life,” I fail to stifle a scoff, but xe ignores it. “And what’s your gender identity currently?”

I shift uncomfortably, “I’m a trans girl,” I respond. “I came out two years ago. That’s basically it.”

Ava nods again. “That sounds correct. Early days. So-”

“What do you mean?” I shout suddenly. “Why are you asking these questions? Who are…?”

I trail off. My eyes are starting to ache again. Come on, I don’t want to cry. I hate crying!

“There’s no need to feel unsafe here,” Ava says calmly. “Does this place feel unfamiliar to you?”

I gingerly turn around and look. I still can’t make out anything. Nothing apart from the hundreds of fireflies… but weirdly… no, it doesn’t. Xe’s right. There’s something weirdly comforting about this place. I’m definitely not anywhere I haven’t been before.

“No,” I say stiffly. “But where am I?”

Ava splits into a wide grin, as though xe have reached a part of the process xe’ve been looking forward to.

“What would you describe this as?” xe replies, annoyingly. “What does it feel like?”

I shift further back into the chair, which somehow just grows more and more comfortable.

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“It’s better if you work it out for yourself.”

I groan, fold my arms, and gaze around, searching for a feeling I can use to respond. Nothing seriously comes to mind. I’ve been a light show once, and it was one of the best nights of my life. One of the few times where I felt properly alive, truly in love. But even then, it wasn’t like this. This is better. This feels like it was crafted specifically for me, by the only person I truly let see myself.

I wrack my brain. What was I just doing? I was…

“Have I fallen asleep?” I ask. “Am I dreaming?”

Ava’s grin grows agonisingly more playful. “Is that your final answer?”

I sigh. “Am I inside my own mind?”

Xe points xer wand in the air and launches a firework. It cracks above us and showers us in sparkles. I fail to stifle my own smile.

“So who are you then? Are you… me?”

Xe giggles. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But no, I’m just a benevolent creature,” xe strokes her wand and sighs wistfully. “But at the end of it all, what am I doesn’t matter. What matters is what I’m capable of, and what I can do to help.”

Ava winks at me, then raises xer wand again. I watch as xe spins it slowly, and realise that the environment around us is finally starting to reveal itself. A king-size bed appears behind me, then a bookcase filled with manga and all my favourite nerdy collectables from Squirrel Girl, Sailor Moon and Doctor Who, then a computer desk with three monitors and my shiny white computer that I used all my savings to get, then a vanity cabinet… ugh, it’s like my ideal bedroom. I feel called out as hell, but also extremely happy.

“Is this what my bedroom will look like in my future?” I say, moving from the chair to the bed. It’s so soft.

“Spoilers!” Ava replies, smiling as I bounce gently on the bed. “Now… are we comfortable?”

I tense up at that question, but nod. I sit as comfortably as I can while still looking at xer. Ava breathes deeply and twists xer wand thoughtfully.

“Inspecting your mind,” she states intently, “relative to where you are in your life now… you’re in a pickle?”

I snort. “You could say that.”

“How do you feel about it?”

I shuffle and blink. “Is this a counselling session?”

Ava sits and smiles, continues twisting xer wand, and doesn’t say anything.

“I feel shit about it,” I finally say. “How would anyone feel when they just had a friend attacked by a family member? How can I be expected to make friends when I’m always afraid that they’ll disappear?”

I purse my lips. I hate counselling sessions. They’re always emotionally exhausting, the therapists keep trying to make me cry, and quite often I just leave feeling worse than when I came in. At least I have pretty computer lights and a sonic screwdriver in the room this time, I guess.

“It’s impossible to not wish I was just born cis,” I say. “I know it sucks to say, but it’s true. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t have anything to look forward to. I just want to feel normal and…”

I close my mouth tightly, realising that if I continue, I might start crying.

“And?” Ava says. I bite my tongue and breathe deeply.

“I wish I had a family that didn’t hate me,” I add quickly.

Ava twists her wand and a big cup of lychee bubble tea appears at my feet. I pick it up and shove the straw into my mouth.

“I wish I had this at all my counselling sessions,” I say, before taking a sip. Ah, it’s so refreshing.

“But Lily,” Ava says, “it’s not true that you don’t have things to look forward to in life. What about your found family? What about creative passions to explore?”

I stifle a snort.

“No one ever reads my writing,” I say. “I’ve never gone back to school since my parents kicked me out. I’m only out of a shelter because of Jessie.”

“Jessie, your friend?”

“Yes,” I say, making my bubble tea last as long as it can. “She’s a sex worker. I’m a minor so I can’t do that…” as tempting as it gets to have the money, I say in my head.

“And Jessie takes care of you?”

“She’s the only person in my life I can even slightly trust. I’m only seventeen with no money. She’s twenty and never once tried to take advantage of me. I hate saying it, but that’s pretty awesome.”

I take another deep breath to stop myself from crying.

“I only ever had one girlfriend,” I continue, “and that never went anywhere so it feels like Jessie is all I’ve ever had sometimes. I love her but she’s not the same as having a family, and I never know if she’ll be safe at work. It sucks.”

I take another big sip of my bubble tea. I chew carefully on one of the bubbles, closing my eyes to make the most of the delicious squishiness. I swallow and reopen my eyes. Ava is still smiling at me.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“I’m still going to. I don’t know why you’re asking me these questions anyway, if you’re just a part of my mind. You should already know.”

“I never said I was a part of your mind,” Ava says lightly.

“Well how are you here then?” I ask.

Ava shrugs. “I’m just cool like that. I want to help.”

“Help how?” I say. “What are you going to do? Are you going to give me unlimited money? Are you going to give me a family? Are you going to end the transphobia that’s torturing my life?”

I bite hard on the straw, but feel my eyes drop some tears regardless. I try to bury my face in my cup to stop xe from seeing it, but I know xe probably did. It’s so embarrassing.

“I wish I could,” Ava says roughly. “I can’t end transphobia, but I can make it easier to live with. If what I am looks like a blessing, it’s not. It’s a curse.”

I lurch back up and stare at xer. Xer smile is gone. I grip the cup tight enough that my knuckles hurt.

“Back in my world,” xe says, staring at xer wand, “Trans people were persecuted too. We changed our bodies using magic… but our government said that magic had to be regulated, that using it on our bodies was an affront to elven purity, and it needed to stop.”

Xe wipes her eyes. I suck gently on my rapidly-ending bubble tea, my heart pounding.

“Anyway, I was the leader of the rebellion. I tried to convince them that our magic wouldn’t just help us, it was for the good of everyone, cis people included. I told them that it could save lives. But they didn’t listen. They’re such cowards!”

Xe pauses again.

“So they tried to kill me, but I was too strong for them. I was too talented. They threw me in prison, and I found a way out every time. Eventually… they removed me for good by finding a way to trap me in the ethereal world, flying forever from mind to mind. But I’m still too smart for them…”

Xe cackles venomously, pointing xer wand to the sky and shooting fireworks in the colours of the trans flag. I duck. It’s so loud and spectacular.

“I found a way out again. I made it to this world, and I’ve made it my mission to find every trans girl I can find and help her realise her true potential. I’m sick of seeing us be reduced to a shells of our bright, shining selves just because society refuses to appreciate us. If I have anything to do about it, I won’t let that happen.”

I lower my now-empty cup, my fingers tingling with my racing heart.

“But you’re just a part of my mind,” I say. “You’re not real, you’re just-”

I jolt as I feel my cup get heavy again. It’s refilled with-

“Melon,” xe says. “Tastes good, right?”

I suck on the straw. Yes, it does.

“So you like things spicy, huh?” Kira says, picking up a bottle of habanero flakes and shooting me a grin from across the kitchen.

“Mhm,” I respond, scrolling Twitter to avoid looking at her.

I giggle and like a meme, taking a chance to flick my eyes back to Kira. She only wears a black tanktop and jeans. It’s simple, but it shows off her sleek figure so well. She twirls the spatula, effortlessly sweeping the meat around and soaking it all in spicy sauce. She flicks her mess of brown hair over her shoulder. I love how her hair coats her back and flows down to her waist. It reflects the light off her skin, making it look so soft… fuck.

I go back to my phone before she can notice me staring. I focus on the smell of her sauce and the sound of the spatula scratching the pan.

“Whatcha looking at?” Kira asks suddenly.

I quickly scroll past a tweet from my ex. “Nothing,” I say. “Just Twitter. People are making memes comparing Ethel Cain to God.”

“Oh sweet!” she says, grabbing her favourite knife with the handle shaped like a dragon and opening the fridge. “I still haven’t heard her music. You can put in on!” she gestures to the bluetooth speaker on the other side of the kitchen.

“Nah, it’s all right. That smells nice!”

“Does it?” Kira chuckles, grabbing some peanuts and coriander and closing the pantry with her boot. “Why? What’s it smell like?”

I fail to stifle a snort. “Trick question,” I say. “You know I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?” she asks, turning and pointing the knife at me. I make an effort to reach her dark hazel eyes and not look too excited. “I asked. Tell me!”

I smirk and close my eyes so to give myself a blank canvas. People always say that thoughts come in words or I dunno, just generic vibes. I think in colours. It’s like I’m always in one big permanent trip. Every scent, sound, taste, even emotion drowns me in a mixture of bright, inescapable colours. I wish I could say it’s a blessing, but it’s not. I don’t understand the world in any other way and I’ve never met anyone else who experiences it like this. Walking down the city or going into a supermarket is like 50 screens of Windows Media Player being injected into my head. I’ve given up 9-5 jobs. I can’t focus. I exit my tiny LED-lit dungeon only when I have to, and I’m hardwired to constantly hunt the next perfect rainbow. Anything else is too overwhelming and too painful. It’s too lonely.

I listen for the sizzling pan again and a wave of tiny red-and-orange crystals pierces through me. It’s nice. Chicken has always felt empty to me, it’s basically a sponge to soak up whatever sauces and spices it’s given, but I can feel the heat of the chillies radiate from the stove, tickling at me excitedly and filling my senses with a glassy, sunset glow. I hear Kira leave the pan to simmer while she picks up her knife and starts chopping coriander. A wave of bright blue mist streaks across my image, like a rough brush stroking through the delicate backdrop, growing thicker as more coriander gets cut. I can already imagine the crunchy, pink taste of peanuts dusted on top of this, adding another subtle layer of texture and colour, perfectly aligned with the palette. I shiver gleefully.

I hear Kira laugh. I open my eyes. She’s grinning at me, cradling a mortar and pestle in her arm and crushing peanuts. I hate that I know how heavy that mortar and pestle is. How is she not even that ripped. Fuck I’m gay.

“So…” she says coyly, “What colours am I giving you?”

I force myself to smile and fidget with my fingernails.

“It’s like a spectrum between blue, red and yellow,” I respond slowly. “It’s like a dense glow, or like a fog even… filling the room.”

I blink and push my phone away from me to resist temptation. I wait for my eyes adjust. It’s weird how the more words I find for it, the clearer it becomes.

“The spiciness is glassy, or like dusty? Maybe that’s just the turmeric and the chillies. And then the coriander is sweet and watery, which will make it feel like… I dunno, like a campfire next to a river, I guess. It’s good.”

I look down at my fingernails. They are insanely chipped. I feel my face growing hot and the image start to fracture into a colourless static.

“Those aren’t colours!” Kira pipes up. “I thought you said it was just colours!”

I meet her eyes. She’s still grinning. It makes me grin back.

“I mean it’s also textures. Like when someone paints, its more than just colours, isn’t it? It’s also textures and lighting and stuff.”

“So you’re saying that my food is a painting?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

She chuckles. “That’s so cool! You haven’t even eaten it yet!”

“I mean I already know I’ll like it,” I say, as I watch her turn the heat off and add the coriander and peanuts.

“Maybe,” she says, grabbing two white soup bowls from the cupboard underneath her and serving it up. “But I still enjoy the praise. Okay, hopefully the rice is done…”

She runs across the kitchen to check on the rice cooker she got yesterday from Kmart. I grab my phone and connect it to her speaker so I can put on Ethel Cain. I don’t know if it’ll suit the vibe, but I guess that’s not the point. She’s so effortlessly sincere, and kind, and I want so badly to stop being so fucking shy.

“Oh, is this Ethel Hays…?”

“Ethel Cain, yeah,” I say, closing my eyes as I let the first few chords of Sun Bleached Flies start uncoiling like a fluorescent amber snake. I wish I had a jasmine candle to burn right now. I want to go to town on this shit. The right smells and sounds can transport me literally anywhere.

“Here you go,” Kira says. I open my eyes. She’s passing me a ramen bowl filled with her curry. “This shit is good!” she gestures to her speaker.

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly, taking the bowl. I measure a small amount of rice and chicken and bite into it.

“Aaa!” I yelp, “Spice!”

Kira pokes her tongue out at me, half-chewed curry on the tip of it. “Told ya! Do you like it?”

I nod, taking another bite and allowing myself to enjoy the searing pain in my mouth. I love it when spice pushes me to my limits. Maybe it’s because it helps me feel like I am actually next to a fire.

“Thank you for forcing me to explain it,” I say. “It made me think about it in ways I never had before. I don’t usually bother trying to think too deeply about it.”

“Yeah, why not?” she asks, licking her fork clean.

I shrug, tracing my fork around the edge of my bowl, thinking about how to answer that. I don’t usually like cooking, not because I don’t like food, but because I can’t follow the way everyone else talks about it. Putting citrus and sugar next to each other is more than just combining sour and sweet, its even more than just combining green and blue. It’s making art, making experiences, making emotions. I’ve never seen a recipe that talked about cooking like that. Why wouldn’t it be better if there were?

“I guess it’s hard to see the point in having thoughts that just pull me away from other people,” I say finally.

I turn to look at her, well aware that I’m blushing this time. I focus on the music to stop my senses dissolving into static.

“That’s wild,” she says. “I don’t know why it would pull you away from people. Genuinely, it’s so cool that you can see things that way.”

I snort. “I just wish I could turn it off. You know when you feel emotions, but you don’t know how to talk about them? You’re not sure who’ll try to understand them? With me, it’s like that with basically everything. I’m living in the world on a completely different spectrum to everyone else. It’s frustrating as fuck.”

I dig my fork into the curry and breathe. I really didn’t expect this to make me so emotional.

“So yeah,” I say finally, shoving more curry into my mouth. “It means a lot to me that I can feel safe to talk about it with you.”

Kira shrugs, combing the rest of her bowl for the last pieces of curry. “I dunno. I just care about you. Plus colours and emotions are fun!”

I burst into a grin. “Yeah. I guess they can be sometimes.”

Kira grins back at me. I feel my heart race. I shove another forkful of curry into my mouth. She genuinely is so effortless. Hell yeah.

“Now come on!” Kira shouts. “Finish your bowl so we can get stoned and watch Gundam!”

I giggle and shove another forkful into my mouth. Holy shit, it’s spicy.