Chapter Six

Author’s Note: This story is set in an alternate universe, in an imaginary town and country, and during an ambiguous time period.

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Dinner with Adisa turned out to be as enjoyable as Kazir expected.  

As Adisa promised, the food was good.  

The restaurant wasn’t fancy. It was a small family-run diner, and it was obvious from the way the waitress greeted Adisa that he was a regular.  

“Can I assume this is you most evenings?”  

Adisa laughed, the sound clear and jubilant. “I hate cooking,” he said, covering his face in shame. “I can cook,” he quickly corrected. “I just… prefer not to.”  

“That’s good. You can cook, at least.”  

“I’m not a failure as an adult.”  

Kazir chuckled, sipping his water.  

“Can you cook?” Adisa asked, handing him the menu.  

“I can,” he admitted, casually surveying the menu. “I enjoy it,” he added, looking up at Adisa.  

“You do? Jealous.”  

He smiled. “I grew up cooking with my parents. It’s... our thing.”  

Adisa tsked wistfully. “I did too. I’m one of five. My parents made sure we all could cook. No loser adults for them,” he said, chuckling. “But… I never acquired the passion for it.”  

“It’s an acquired… taste, I suppose.”  

Adisa quickly nodded. “It is.” Then Adisa added, “Cleaning up doesn’t bother me.”  

“That’s nice,” Kazir muttered before he said, “So, what should I order? I’ll take your lead.”  

“That makes me happy, but I don’t want to steer you wrong. What do you like to eat?”  

“Good food.”  

Adisa grinned and Kazir smiled and before they knew it, they both were laughing.  

“You can never go wrong with that,” Adisa agreed. “Alright, see here,” he tapped an item on the menu, slightly lifting his body off his seat to lean toward Kazir. “It has never led me wrong.”  

“Alright. I’m ready to be surprised. If I hate it, you’re paying, right?” Kazir said, lifting his gaze.  

Adisa’s eyes were scintillating. He really was handsome, Kazir thought, briskly averting his gaze.  

“Let me get dinner tonight.”  

“I was joking.”  

“No. I invited. It’s my treat.”  

“I can’t.”  

“No, I—”  

“No. I really can’t. Please, don’t make this awkward.”  

Adisa let out a belly-aching laugh. “I think you just achieved that on your own.”  

“You’re blunt.” He strangely didn’t feel upset at Adisa’s comment, not when he was using that tone and looking at him with one of his thousand-watt smiles. It was hard to take him seriously.

“So are you. I like that. Though, you’re funny.”  

As Kazir tried to organize his thoughts, the server came over and asked if they were ready to order. For now, he decided to drop the topic and focus on dinner. He let Adisa order for both of them.  

“So,” Adisa began after they placed their orders, leaning back in his chair with a casual smile, “tell me about this cycling club of yours. How long have you been doing that?”  

Kazir shrugged, feeling a little more comfortable as he spoke about his passion. “A couple of years now.”  

“I see you're enjoying a hobby like that.”  

“Like that?”  

“A solitary hobby.”  

“You read me right.”  

“I’m good at reading people,” Adisa winked, looking pleased.  

Kazir shrugged. “It’s just me, my bike, and the road. I’ve always liked activities that give me space to think.”  

Adisa grinned. “That sounds nice. Do you hike?”  

“I do, actually. Often.”  

“Really?” Adisa said, leaning towards him. “I hike, too.”  

“No way. I wouldn’t peg you as a hiker.”  

“Because I’m talkative?” he asked teasingly, leaning back in his seat.  

Kazir shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”  

“It does. In elementary school, my report card was always littered with the personal growth comment that I was a loquacious child.”  

“I can see that.”

“I had to be. Second oldest of five.”  

“You give me last child vibes.”  

“Well, thank you.”  

“I….” Kazir paused. “You’re welcome?”  

Chuckling in his customary merry manner, Adisa said, “Are you part of a hiking club?”  

“I was.”  

“Was?”  

“You?”  

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue. “Solitary, but, as you could guess, I hate it. Open to company?”  

“I... I mean, sure. I...”  

“Hey, it’s fine if you say no. No hard feelings. Promise.”  

“No. It’s not that,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I don’t mind you joining. I just… I take photos on my hikes. I—it’s a hobby. Photography.”  

“You’re rich in hobbies.”  

“Got to stay engaged.”  

“True.” Adisa tilted his head, his eyes studying Kazir with a kind of thoughtful curiosity. “It’s funny you like so many solitary hobbies because you’re so easy to talk to.”  

“That’s a first.”  

“A first?”  

Kazir shook his head. “No, I mean, I’ve got friends—in the cycling club and all that…” He trailed off, feeling like he was sounding like a sore loser. “I guess I’m just used to being by myself,” he finally added.  

Adisa raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. “That’s the most important. Though, you’re good company, Kazir.”  

The compliment caught Kazir off guard. He looked away, feeling a warmth rise in his chest. It was odd—he wasn’t used to people seeing him that way. Most people assumed he was distant or standoffish, and he was content with letting them think that. But Adisa didn’t seem put off by his reserved nature. If anything, he seemed intrigued by it.  

“What about you?” Kazir asked, shifting the conversation away from himself. “It’s strange you’re not more into solitary pastimes. Coming from such a large family, I mean.”  

Adisa chuckled, nodding. “I do. But, you know,” he shrugged. “You get used to the chaos after a while and you miss it when it’s gone. I’ve never known quiet, and I can’t function without the loud din of my large family.”  

“Din, huh?”  

Adisa chuckled. “All love. We’re all pretty close. Family’s a big thing for us. You? Only child?”

Kazir smiled. His family was small by comparison but still tight-knit in its own way. “Do I give off that vibe?”  

“Tacitly.”  

He grinned. “Nope. Oldest of three.”  

“Now, that’s a surprise. I would have never pegged you as the oldest. But, now that you’ve said it,” he muttered.  

“What?” Kazir found himself asking, unable to hide his grin, feeling strangely at ease as the conversation continued.  

They talked about their families, about primary and secondary school, and even touched on what they both wanted in life. Adisa spoke about his big family with pride, but there was also a hint of longing in his voice when he talked about wanting a family of his own someday. It wasn’t something Kazir had ever given much thought to; he always pushed it off as something he would ponder when the occasion called for it. And so far, it hasn't, and he’d like to keep it that way.  

“You ever think about marriage?” Adisa asked, his tone light but curious.  

Kazir shrugged, playing with his leftovers. “I don’t know. I’m still pretty young. You?”  

“Not as young as you.”  

“The hell?” But he laughed. Why did Adisa make it so hard not to break into a smile or laughter in his presence?  

Adisa grinned. “Fair enough. I’ve always wanted a large family.”  

“By large, do you mean five kids, or more?” Kazir asked cautiously, wincing at the thought.  

“Well, that’s up to my future partner to decide. After all, I can’t carry a child, but,” he shrugged, “preferably five or more.”  

“Bro, that’s a crime.” Kazir laughed softly.  

“Family’s everything.” 

“I can agree with that, but that’s a lot of screaming children.”  

“Remember I like noise.”  

“Right. I almost forgot.”  

Plus, he was an alpha. He probably had hopes of siring a few more like him. The world was different for alphas. Not perfect, but different.  

The world had always been a prejudiced place, especially toward omegas. Kazir had observed this firsthand, even as a child. He remembered being in elementary school, watching omegas get teased and bullied, even by teachers who subtly reinforced stereotypes about their supposed fragility or submission. It was clear from a young age that being an omega meant being vulnerable, preyed upon, or underestimated. By the time he was seven, Kazir had already decided that he would never tell another soul about his secondary gender. He would hide it, bury it deep, so others wouldn’t feel uncomfortable around him or try to take advantage of him. He remembered that moment vividly, like a contract he had signed with himself. He knew that by keeping his status a secret, life would be easier.  

From then on, it was easier to let people assume he was a beta. He had the build for it—tall, muscular, and, over the years, as he had picked up active hobbies, bulky. Nothing about him screamed "omega." He didn’t fit the delicate or submissive stereotype most people associated with his secondary gender. He never corrected anyone’s assumptions, even people he considered friends. Why would he?  

Being perceived as a beta allowed him to navigate the world with ease. Omegas, especially male omegas, were often pigeonholed into specific roles, expected to marry early, produce children, and be dependent on their partners—typically alphas. But Kazir had no intention of fitting into those expectations.  

The world, in many ways, was built for alphas. They were at the top of every hierarchy—politics, business, entertainment. Almost all presidents, CEOs, and people with obscene amounts of wealth were alphas. They commanded respect, wielded influence, and controlled society's power dynamics. While omegas played their part in producing the next generation, it was alphas who made the decisions. And although there were more betas than either alphas or omegas, alphas were given precedence, always valued more.

Almost all alphas married omegas. It was the natural pairing, at least according to society’s rigid rules. The best way to produce alpha children—future leaders—was to mate with an omega. Beta-omega pairings were rare, and beta-alpha pairings even rarer. And when an alpha child was born from a beta parent, the mother was always an omega.  

Kazir knew all of this. It was the invisible web that held society together, dictating every part of life, from the jobs people got to the relationships they were expected to form. But Kazir refused to be caught in that web. He had watched how it strangled those around him, and he had no intention of becoming one of those omega boys from his childhood, teased and pitied. So he chose to live his life as a beta—normal, unnoticed, and free.  

“Do you think I’m ridiculous?” Adisa asked.  

“What? No.”  

Adisa frowned lightly, his good-natured smile not disappearing. “You went silent.”  

“For a bit. I’m just thinking about… the world.”  

“The world?”  

“Work. I’m working on this new project and… Anyway, when I get home, I’m happy to arrive at a quiet, desolate home.”  

“Hmm. Really?”  

“Yes, really.”  

“I’m the opposite.”  

“See, what I mean? The world. People are so different.”  

“That’s what creates great friendships,” Adisa said, lifting his glass to clink with Kazir’s.  

He shrugged and followed suit.  

“To new friendships.”  

Kazir just nodded. 

The evening flew by, and Kazir was surprised at how easily they transitioned from topic to topic. By the time they left the restaurant, it was completely dark out, and the cool evening air felt refreshing against his skin. As they stood by the entrance, Adisa turned to him with that bright smile that seemed to never fade.  

“Hey, about your cycling group,” Adisa said, his excitement barely contained. “Think I could join you guys on Saturday. This Saturday?”  

Kazir blinked. He hadn’t expected Adisa to actually follow through on his interest. “Sure, if you’ve got a bike. We meet early, though.”  

Adisa nodded, his smile widening. “I can get a bike, no problem. I’ll see you there.”  

“Yeah.”  

“I’m excited.”  

“It’s… We just cycle.”  

“That’s fun to me, man.”  

“Okay.”

Later that night, as Kazir lay in bed, freshly showered, his thoughts drifted back to the dinner. Their effortless conversation, the easy smiles, and boundless laughter. It had been so long since he had smiled and laughed so much.  

He enjoyed conversing with Adisa.  

He thought about his mother’s constant worry about his lack of close friends. Maybe the next time he saw her, he could mention Adisa. It would probably make her happy. But then again, he reminded himself that they were just work friends. He didn’t know yet if they would actually become close friends.  

But as he drifted off to sleep, Kazir couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, Adisa was different. And that maybe this could turn into something more than just a casual work friendship and become a real friendship.  

It would be nice to have such an extroverted friend.