‘So what were you doing in Brunswick,’ I said.

‘Just the gym,’ he said.

‘Oh cool,’ I said. ‘What kind of gym?’

More silence.

‘What do you mean what kind of gym?’ he said.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘A night gym?’

He looked at me strangely.

As he did this, I noticed his hands massaging the steering wheel; the traffic was stalled at the intersection ahead, with very few cars funnelling left on Alexandra Parade. I watched another green light turn yellow and then red.

‘I don’t think you really want me to tell you about my gym,’ he said.

‘Okay, don’t worry about it,’ I said.

He looked at me, smiled, and looked away again. The light turned green, then changed again to yellow.

‘It’s a nice place,’ he said. ‘Not super busy. I have a routine.’

He was squeezing the steering wheel with both his hands.

Then whatever stalled us freed us and the car moved forward again. I could feel his tension easing.

‘You tried to make me tell you so many boring things,’ he said. ‘I almost told you about my gym routine.’

‘That’s okay,’ I said again. I was counting the cross-streets.

He looked over at me meaningfully.

‘I can tell you have a really generous heart,’ he said.

‘Just anywhere here,’ I said.

He checked his blind spot and pulled into the bike lane.

I unclicked my belt.

‘Nice to meet you,’ he said.

I’d already opened the door.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Nice to meet you,’ he said.

‘You too,’ I said.

I left the car and closed the door behind me.

The queer night had spilled into a long dark lane, which opened into a parking garage. Everyone was smoking, some people holding cans, like this was a house party and not really a bar.

They were polished, pleasant, murmuring, huddled closely in the night: Dan and Lachlan, both in shorts, sleeves pressed crisp and perfect. Dan, whose ramrod posture had met its match in Lachlan’s, was regarding the people around him with one swivelling eye. Lachlan was deeply drunk and gazing liddedly at his phone.

I navigated through clumps of people and threw myself towards Dan and Lachlan. And, as I did, a small dark shape unmelted from the wall next to them.

It was Mysterious Chris, wearing a sheer black shawl, which I guessed was more of a night look than his traditional silver cape, but because it was less theatrical it was also more strange.

I stared at him. His dark glass eyes stared back at me, for he was wearing his large sunglasses, despite the night-time hour, like a nocturnal creature with an unguessable specialty.

‘This is my housemate,’ said Dan and Lachlan at exactly the same time.

They looked at each other.

‘Did you just say . . .?’ said Dan, while Lachlan said, ‘Did I just do . . .?’

They smiled at each other, excited about being so cute.

‘You guys,’ I said.