Jack, a regular 22 year old

The café hummed with the low chatter of early morning stragglers, people who either hadn’t slept enough or slept too much, their faces half-lit by phone screens or hidden behind steaming cups. The smell of burnt espresso and sugary syrup hung in the air, thick enough to taste.

Jack had been working alongside Veronica at NexaTech Solutions for just over a year, long enough to know she wasn’t the type to suffer fools, but not long enough to figure out if she actually liked him or just tolerated his presence because of their necessary teamwork. She was sharp, always wanting to be two steps ahead in meetings, the kind of person who didn't like to be shown up in front of others. At 28, she carried herself like someone who’d already seen enough corporate nonsense to last a lifetime, her crisp blazers a uniform of quiet defiance against the startup’s "hoodies and beanbags" culture. Jack, at 22, was still wide-eyed enough to find the whole tech grind novel, the free snacks, the hackathons, the vague promises of changing the world through lines of code. They weren’t friends, exactly, but they’d fallen into a rhythm of semi-regular coffee breaks, mostly because Veronica needed someone to vent to about management’s latest idiocy, and Jack was too green to realise he was supposed to pretend he wasn’t listening.

Jack’s phone buzzed against the scratched wooden table, a sharp vibration that made Veronica glance up from her matcha latte. Her green eyes flicked to the screen, then back to him, one eyebrow arched. As if waiting for Jack to explain what the notification was.

She took another sip, the bitter grassiness of the matcha coating her tongue. God, I feel like I aged five years just this week. When did mornings start hurting this much?

Jack swiped open the notification, his thumb leaving a smudge on the glass. The words "Congratulations! You’ve been selected for GenieUs Beta Access" glared up at him in bold, gold letters. An obviously AI-generated cartoon genie lamp pulsed at the top of the screen, its animation cheap but polished, like something out of a shitty but popular mobile game ad.

"No fucking way," Jack muttered, his pulse kicking up a notch.

Veronica leaned in, her blazer sleeve brushing against a stray coffee ring on the table. "What, did you finally win one of those ‘You’re the 1,000,000th visitor’ pop-ups?" Her tone was dry, but there was a flicker of curiosity there.

Jack turned the screen toward her. "GenieUs. That weird wish-granting app people have been talking about. They just let me in."

Veronica snorted. "Right. And I’m the Queen of England." She set her cup down, the ceramic clinking against the saucer. "You’re telling me some startup figured out how to sell magic wishes, and they just… emailed you to let you use it?"

Jack was already downloading it, his fingers moving fast. "They opened up applications months ago for beta testers but it's virtually impossible to be selected and barely anyone has got a chance to try it out. They say it’s AI-powered. Some quantum algorithm shit that ‘edits reality.’" The progress bar filled quickly, whoever made this app had optimised the hell out of it.

Veronica watched, her lips pressed into a thin line. This is stupid. But then again, wasn’t everything stupid before it worked? She remembered how people laughed at voice assistants, at self-driving cars, at the idea that a machine could paint or write. Now look where they were.

The app installed with a cheerful chime. A splash screen appeared, showing a shimmering desert oasis, the genie lamp front and center. "Three trial wishes remaining. Use them wisely."

Jack exhaled, half-laughing. "Okay, what the fuck do I even wish for?"

Veronica swirled the dregs of her matcha. "Wish for me to be ten years younger," she said, her voice flat. "I’m exhausted, and it’s not even 10 AM. I want to wake up without feeling like my bones are made of lead."

Jack blinked. "You’re serious?"

She shrugged. "Why not? Either it’s bullshit and nothing happens, or it works and I get to relive my twenties without the shitty decisions." A smirk tugged at her mouth. "Worst case, you waste a free wish on a bad joke."

The app waited, the screen glowing softly in his hands. A single button pulsed at the bottom: "Make Your Wish."

Jack’s thumb hovered over it.

Veronica watched him, her expression unreadable. Surely this has to be some elaborate joke. Unless… A tiny, traitorous hope flickered in her chest. What if it’s real?

The café noise faded into background static. Jack’s finger touched the screen.

And the world held its breath.