Chapter Text
The sun slowly rose in the sky, shining through the curtains of Wyatt Callow’s bedroom.
Wyatt let out a grunt as the light assaulted his tired eyes, reaching an arm up to flop over his face. He was so tired, but he had to get up. A yawn escaped his lips as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching his limbs as his groggy groans filled the room, taking over the usual silence.
The boy sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the floor as he tried to convince himself to get moving. The warmth of his bed made leaving feel impossible.
Unfortunately, the fish weren’t going to catch themselves.
With a reluctant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the mattress. The wooden floorboards felt cool beneath his bare feet. He shuffled across the room, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes before reaching the window. Pulling back the curtains, he was greeted by the sight of the ocean stretching beyond the town, and the bright light from above that had assaulted his eyes earlier. Sunlight danced across the water’s surface, turning it into a sea of gold.
"It’s too early…"
Wyatt whined, though the ocean offered no response to his dramatic declaration. A breath of sleepiness and grumpiness escaped his lips as he turned around, making his way to his next declaration: his bathroom. He needed a shower. With all the enthusiasm of a man being marched to his execution, Wyatt shuffled toward the bathroom.
The hallway was cool and quiet. The old floorboards groaned beneath each step, sounding louder than usual in the early morning stillness. He rubbed at his eyes again as he walked, nearly bumping into the wall when another yawn escaped him.
The bathroom mirror greeted him with a reflection that looked just as miserable as he felt.
His black hair stuck out in several directions, flattened on one side and sticking straight up on the other. Dark circles lingered beneath his eyes from another early morning.
"Jesus, I look horrible."
The reflection offered no defense. After staring at himself for another second, he turned on the shower. Water rattled through the old pipes before pouring from the showerhead in a steady stream. Steam slowly filled the room as Wyatt stepped beneath the spray, shedding his sleep shorts.
Almost immediately, he felt himself begin to wake up.
The warm water washed away the last remnants of sleep clinging to him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, listening to the steady rush of water.
For a brief moment, it almost sounded like the ocean.
That thought made him smile.
Ever since he was little, the sea had been a constant part of his life. Some people found comfort in bustling cities or crowded streets.
Wyatt found comfort in waves.
The ocean had always been there.
No matter what happened, it remained the same.
—
After changing into a worn navy sweater and a pair of faded work pants, he made his way downstairs. The house was quiet except for the occasional creak of old wood and the distant cry of seagulls outside. Wyatt grabbed a piece of toast from the counter his mother had prepared before heading out before gathering the things he’d need for the day. His tackle box sat by the door, along with his weathered tote bag and a jacket that had seen better days.
His teeth bit into the crunchy bread, the crunch filling the silence surrounding the kitchen as he slowly ate. His eyes drifted to a framed photograph on the counter, which had him and his father in it, with Wyatt holding up a regular sized Striped Bass, a proud smile etched across his young face.
He remembered when it was taken.
His father had taken him fishing for his fifth birthday, and that was his first ever fish. That’s when he fell in love with the sea and the art of fishing.
Wyatt hummed, rising to his feet. No time to reminisce. The fish won’t catch themselves. His feet led him to the front door, and he swung it open. The cool morning air hit him immediately, carrying the scent of salt and seawater from the docks.
—
The fish market was already bustling by the time Wyatt arrived.
The salty morning air clung to everything, carrying the scent of seawater, fresh fish, and weathered wood from the docks nearby. Merchants called out to passing customers from behind crowded stalls, advertising the day’s catch while seagulls circled overhead, screeching loudly in hopes of stealing an unattended meal.
Wyatt made his way through the bustling crowd, hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jacket. He nodded politely to familiar faces as he passed, eventually stopping at a small bait stand tucked between a fishmonger and a seafood vendor. The seller—a middle aged man with silver hair that glistened in the sun—looked up as he approached, a grin spreading across his face.
"Ah, Callow’s boy!"
He greeted, and Wyatt simply offered a small nod in return before turning his attention toward the items spread across the stall.
The wooden counter was crowded with supplies. Containers of worms sat stacked beside jars of brightly colored lures, their painted surfaces glinting in the morning sunlight. Packs of fishing hooks hung from small metal racks overhead, swaying gently whenever the ocean breeze drifted through the market. The scent of damp soil mixed strangely with the salty air coming from the docks.
Wyatt leaned forward slightly, scanning the selection. He had been fishing long enough to know exactly what he was looking for.
His gaze eventually settled on a small plastic container tucked near the edge of the display.
Reaching out, he picked it up and popped the lid free.
Immediately, a dozen plump nightcrawlers greeted him, wriggling lazily through the dark soil packed inside. A few twisted over one another while another disappeared beneath the dirt entirely. They looked healthy enough.
"Hm."
The thoughtful hum escaped him before he even realized it.
The bait seller chuckled in response.
"Good batch, aren’t they? Dug those up myself this morning."
Wyatt glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the worms. They certainly looked fresh. Better than some of the sad-looking bait he’d seen sold around town.
"Yeah."
Wyatt snapped the lid back into place and gave the container a small shake to make sure it was secure before setting it carefully on the counter. The worms shifted inside, disturbing the soil as they wriggled around.
"How much?"
"Hm… three dollars! I found them this morning, so they’re fresh!"
Wyatt nodded and reached into the pocket of his jacket, searching before taking his hand out and dropping three crumped bills onto the stall’s table. The man beamed and grabbed the given currency as Wyatt took the bait package and walked away, tucking the box into his navy tote bag. He took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling the salty air with his eyes closed, appreciating the morning atmosphere.
—
Rows of fishing boats rocked gently against the docks, their ropes creaking softly with the movement of the tide. Wyatt made his way to his own vessel, a modest white fishing boat that had belonged to his family for years. The boat wobbled slightly as Wyatt stepped on, dropping his bag onto the wood before kneeling down. His hands moved slowly, untying the boat from the dock. The waves rocked the vessel slightly as Wyatt settled, starting up the engine that sputtered to life.
The familiar coastline stretched along the horizon while the open ocean expanded in every direction. The further Wyatt traveled, the quieter everything became. The sounds of the market faded until all that remained was the steady rush of waves against the hull and the distant cries of seabirds.
Eventually, Wyatt eased the engine to a stop.
The sudden silence settled over the water almost immediately, broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the side of the boat. He glanced around for a moment, judging the current before deciding the spot would do. Reaching into his tote bag, he pulled out the container of nightcrawlers he had gotten earlier and twisted the lid free. The worms writhed lazily inside. He selected one and carefully threaded it onto the hook before casting his line into the sea, the hook falling into the water and dragging the worm with it.
Wyatt settled onto the wooden bench near the stern, resting one arm on his knee as he watched the line. Fishing had never been about excitement. Most days were spent exactly like this—waiting, listening, watching. It was exactly up his alley. His eyes shut as he sank back against the back of the fishing boat, a sigh escaping his slightly parted lips.
A peaceful silence settled over the ocean as the soft waves rocked his boat back and forth, almost as if it was trying to lull him to sleep.
Wyatt could have sat there for hours. The gentle rocking of the boat, the distant cries of gulls, and the rhythmic sound of water against the hull were all familiar comforts. His eyes remained closed as a cool breeze drifted across the sea, carrying the scent of salt and the warm sunlight that nipped at his skin.
Then something splashed.
His eyes opened immediately.
The sound hadn’t come from his fishing line.
Wyatt sat up, glancing around the empty stretch of ocean surrounding him. Nothing but blue water greeted him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined it.
"Huh…"
Another splash echoed across the surface.
This time, he was certain he had heard it.
His brow furrowed.
Slowly, Wyatt rose from the bench and stepped toward the side of the boat. The wooden boards creaked beneath his weight as he peered over the edge. Sunlight pierced through the clear water, illuminating swaying patches of seaweed far below.
At first, he saw nothing. His posture visibly relaxed, and he began to turn back around.
Then a flash of movement caught his eye.
Something darted between the shafts of light.
Wyatt froze.
It wasn’t a fish.
The shape was far too large.
His grip tightened on the edge of the boat as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look. For a brief moment, he caught sight of long golden hair drifting through the water like strands of sunlight.
"… What the hell?!"
Wyatt scrambled back, tripping over his feet and falling back. He scrambled to the opposite side of the boat, his fingers digging into the wooden sides as he panicked over what he just saw. He spared an extra peek over the side of the boat, but the figure had vanished behind a cluster of rocks beneath the surface before he could see them more clearly.
"Either I’m going insane, or somebody is swimming down there."
Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet and approached the edge of the boat once more. Every instinct told him not to look. Unfortunately, curiosity had always been stronger than common sense.
The ocean appeared calm again. The water shimmered beneath the morning sun, innocent and undisturbed. A sudden movement flashed below before he could calm down, causing Wyatt to jerk back. Something had darted behind one of the submerged rock formations. It looked too… human.
As Wyatt attempted to slow his breathing and calm down, he suddenly heard a faint giggle from below his boat. He paused, the hairs on his neck standing straight up, before he lunged to start the engine.
"Nope!"
He struggled to start it, his hand yanking at the worn cord so hard he thought he’d for sure get rope burn, before a pale hand shot up out of the blue ocean, snapping down onto the damp side of the boat. The fingers curled over the wooden edge, as if something was trying to pull itself up as the boat began to slowly sink down in the direction of the hand.
Wyatt gulped, holding onto the other side to keep himself out of the water. This was terrifying to him. His father always talked about big sea monsters and to be careful when far out, but this?! Is this how he was going to die? Before he knew it, a second hand emerged, then came the face of a beautiful girl, with pearly blue eyes and blonde hair that sparkled in the light of the sun. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak.
For several long seconds, neither of them moved. The girl blinked up at him from the side of the boat. Wyatt nervously stared back. His brain felt as though it had completely stopped working. The girl’s golden hair clung to her shoulders in damp waves, tiny droplets of seawater glimmering like diamonds in the sunlight. Her blue eyes were bright with amusement as she watched his horrified expression.
"… You’re staring."
Wyatt nearly jumped out of his skin as the girl suddenly spoke, clearly not expecting the amused voice.
"YOU TALK?!"
The girl flinched slightly before frowning.
"Of course I talk."
"Why would you think that I assumed that you could?!"
"’Cause you heard me laughing earlier."
Wyatt opened his mouth, before shutting it again. That was a fair argument. He had heard the giggles. The girl hummed, before leaning forward over the boat.
"You look funny."
"I look funny?! Well I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting a random human to appear in the middle of the ocean!"
"I’m not a human."
Wyatt paused. The girl paused aswell, as if she had said something she didn’t mean to say. Slowly, very slowly, Wyatt’s gaze drifted downward. The girl noticed immediately and stiffened, her grin dropping to a disapproving glare.
"No."
His eyes continued lowering.
"Don’t."
He leaned slightly to the side, and the girl responded by grabbing the edge of the boat tighter.
"Stop that."
Wyatt leaned farther. And then he finally saw it.
Where legs should have been was a massive tail covered in shimmering scales that shifted between shades of lavender, purple, and a faint blue beneath the water. The fin lazily flicked behind her, sending ripples across the ocean’s surface.
Wyatt’s jaw dropped, and the girl winced, the tail immediately curling behind her.
"Oh, cod."
"What."
"That’s a bad reaction."
"WHAT ARE YOU?!"
A flock of gulls exploded into the air nearby as Wyatt’s terrified shout echoed across the water. Though, the girl looked almost… offended?
"I’m a mermaid."
"Mermaids exist?!"
The mermaid frowned.
"Well, what are you?"
Wyatt stared.
"…A human."
"Huh?"
Now it was her turn to look confused.
For the first time, Wyatt realized she was studying him just as curiously as he was studying her.
As if she’d never seen a human before.
The thought made a chill crawl down his spine.
"… Your hair’s black."
The girl pointed out, and Wyatt quickly reached up to fix his messy black hair.
"Yeah?"
"Your ears are tiny."
"What kind of observation is that?!"
Wyatt instinctively covered his ears, which had begun to turn red at the tips. The girl rolled her eyes at his exclamation, tilting her head to the side slightly.
"I’m Maysilee."
The girl greeted, and Wyatt awkwardly nodded. Mermaids had names? Of course they did. God, he was stupid.
"Wyatt."
Maysilee hummed at his given name, before letting go of the boat and sinking back into the water.
"Bye, Wyatt."
"What? Wait!"
She was already pushing away from the boat. Before Wyatt could process what had just happened, a splash erupted as her tail disappeared beneath the surface.
"Maysilee!"
She resurfaced several feet away. Only her head remained above water. The mermaid offered him one final grin, before disappearing underneath the blue waves. Wyatt awkwardly stood there for a few seconds, his eyes locked on the spot she had vanished from. When he came back to his senses, his fishing rod suddenly jerked.
A fish had finally bitten.
Wyatt stared at the water where Maysilee had disappeared. Then at the fishing rod. Then back at the water.
"… Nobody is going to believe me."
Wyatt sighed, grabbing the rod and beginning to reel in his first catch of the day.
This day had been exhausting and confusing despite not even breaking the afternoon yet.