Chapter 2

At 2:00 AM the next night, Luna's eyes snapped open.

She wasn't tossing and turning from her usual insomnia this time. She couldn't stop thinking about that weird vending machine.

Throwing on her slippers, she walked down the block. Silas was right where she expected. He was crouched on the pavement, running his mouth at the metal box.

As she got closer, she caught what he was saying.

"Are you sick?" Silas grumbled. "Nobody asked you to wake up and push Solace all night. And at least stop getting stuck on the second tray. I've been out here eight times to fix you!"

A cursor blinked on the display before spelling out: [You're sick. Everyone you know is sick.]

Silas jabbed his screwdriver at the screen. "You wanna say that again?"

The display updated instantly: [Keep it up, and I'll just shut down. Try me.]

A giggle escaped Luna's lips.

Silas spun around, his ears turning beet red in a second. "Wh-What are you doing back here?"

"Just wanted front-row seats to your turf war with an appliance," Luna said, stepping into the glow of the screen. "Who's winning?"

Silas looked annoyed and put his screwdriver away. "Not me. It's way better at trash talk."

Luna cracked up. She found this shy mechanic fascinating. This mechanic was a trip. He clamped up around a breathing human, but he had no problem roasting a vending machine.

"So, about that rubber duck," Luna said, pulling out her phone. "Is there any way to buy another? My best friend is dealing with a toxic boss, and she really needs to vent."

"Not possible," Silas replied, shaking his head. The machine tracks the user. One account only gets to buy a Solace tailored to their own 'symptoms'."

"Symptoms?" Luna asked.

Silas tapped the glass. "Take a look. It doesn't dispense random stuff. It prescribes what you need to fix your mood."

Luna leaned in to get a better look at the menu.

[Solace 03: For the burnt-out souls surviving on thirty days of straight overtime. Contains: One simulated morning where the alarm clock doesn't exist.]

[Solace 09: For anyone who misses home but can't get back there. Contains: A custom recording of your mom's voice.]

[Solace 17: For the heartbroken who still stalk their ex's social media. Contains: A step-by-step guide to a clean break.]

Absorbed in the menu, Luna didn't catch Silas staring at her.

He studied her for five solid seconds. His focus landed on the dark shadows under her eyes that made her look like a cast member from a zombie movie.

"You... You really don't sleep much, do you?" he asked softly.

Luna gave a wry smile. "I have three million followers watching my sleep streams, but I haven't slept a full night in three years. Biggest joke ever, right?"

Silas looked like a deer in headlights. "Wait. You're the Luna? The sleep streamer?"

"You actually listen to my stuff?" Luna asked, surprised.

His ears burned bright red. "I... Yeah. I play your videos when I'm stuck awake."

Luna stared at him in surprise. "Don't tell me you've got insomnia, too."

Silas didn't answer. He dropped his gaze and went back to twisting a screw on the metal casing.

Luna suddenly remembered the detail he'd dropped yesterday about fixing late-night breakdowns.

"Wait, you've been doing the graveyard shift for eight years?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"So you catch up on sleep during the day?"

Silas stopped turning his screwdriver. "I try. The sleep is pretty rough, but you adapt to it."

Watching him from the side, Luna got a strange vibe. He seemed to be wearing his grease-stained uniform like a suit of armor, locking his actual feelings away behind a maze of circuit boards and spare parts.

"You ever think about seeing someone for that?" she asked. "A doctor, maybe?"

Silas stayed quiet.

Suddenly, the vending machine's display lit up with a fresh line of text: [He's too chicken.]

Annoyed, Silas smacked the side of the casing. "Nobody asked you."

The screen flashed again: [Tell her about the clinic. You walked to the front door three times last month and bolted every single time.]

Luna bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Wait, this thing knows your personal life?"

Silas clenched his jaw. "It knows everything. It's driving me crazy."

Luna finally lost the battle and cracked up.

When she caught her breath, she looked back at him. "So, you're officially in the no-sleep club with me?"

Silas let a long silence stretch out between them. Luna started to think he was going to ignore the question.

Finally, he spoke. "I can sleep. I'm just afraid to."

Luna froze.

Silas raised his head. For a fraction of a second, he looked her right in the eye.

That brief look hit her like a punch to the gut. The sheer, devastating grief behind his stare went way deeper than a lack of sleep.

"My parents..." He swallowed hard. "They were on their way to their night shift when I was five. There was a car crash, around two in the morning."

The smile died on Luna's face.

Silas dropped his gaze and went back to picking at a bolt. "The thought of falling asleep has been a nightmare ever since.

"My brain convinced me that closing my eyes means the world ends. Taking graveyard shifts keeps me sane. Because if I'm awake, I can keep things from going wrong."

A cold breeze swept past them.

Down the block, the smell of grease drifted over from Aldo's food truck. The faint sound of a dog barking echoed through the quiet streets.

Luna stood there. All the witty banter had left her mind as she watched the mechanic turning screws in the dark.

The vending machine's screen flickered.

The snark was gone, replaced by a familiar message: [Solace 01: For the nights when everyone else is asleep and you feel left behind. Reminder: You aren't.]

A lump formed in Luna's throat as she stared at the screen.

She closed the distance between them, crouching down on the concrete so they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the beat-up machine.

"Hey," she said softly. "Let's go get some food. I'm buying. Aldo fries up some pretty amazing bacon."

Silas looked up at her.

"We can stay up together," Luna offered with a small smile. "Neither of us is getting any sleep anyway. There's no point in hanging out on the curb alone."

Silas didn't move for a long time.

A slow flush crept up the tips of his ears before he gave a small, quiet nod.