* 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 / 𝐦𝐞 .

august listened fondly as tito blew dust off the memories of saturday mornings with his dad. he liked hearing their stories, it was a little window into a life august was lucky enough to see only by a split hair. that realization had dawned on him every now and again the past week, how thinly they were connected to each other. if august had just survived, if killer conclusions had blown up… tito wouldn’t even have been a blip on his radar. he realized this almost sadly. august was strangely grateful, in that moment, that things panned out the way they had. that was rare in of itself.

then, tito made the mistake of revealing something they probably shouldn’t have. something most people that knew august knew better than to let slip. he licked his lips like predator stalking prey. a sly, gaunt smile curved his lips upwards.

“what’s three ghosts living in your apartment got to do with getting laid?” he pressed. “shit, tito. ever heard of putting a sock on the door? we could mind our business for a couple hours if need be.” he raised his brow. “is there a need be on the horizon for you?“

as soon as the words leave their mouth, tito realizes that they were a mistake. if they were smarter, they would have said something more along the lines of i’m not looking right now or i’m just too busy, but instead they had to go ahead and hand over pandora’s box to august and expected him not to open it. that was their first mistake. and, truth be told, the sudden presence of three ghostly roommates wasn’t the only thing holding them back from romantic endeavors at present. it isn’t like they really want to tell anyone ( not even sweet, harmless august ) about this, but tito has never really been very good at lying — their mom always said she knew exactly when he wasn’t telling her the truth because she could see it all over his face — so it isn’t like he stands much of a chance. 

their second mistake is freezing at the question like a deer in the headlights instead of even trying to deflect it or play it off. heat pools in his cheeks and they’re painfully aware of the fact that they need to say something — anything. “no,” they finally manage to get out, but there’s no doubt in their mind that the way that their voice cracks renders the word completely unconvincing. “there’s no need be on the horizon.”

if she’s honest, the apartment of some guy she’d only met a week ago hadn’t quite been where dali had imagined she’d be spending a fair bit of her afterlife - but even though tito’s place isn’t a terrifyingly empty void or picturesque land above the clouds, she’d honestly be hard pressed to find a fault with her rather unexpected haunt. sure, the flat, already small on it’s own, is somewhat cramped with the four of them there, even if the majority of it’s current inhabitants can’t make too much of a physical impact, but in truth, what may be claustrophobic to some has only made her like it more. in a way, it reminds her of home - not the guest house, which, though it had served them well, she hadn’t at all been planning on staying in forever, but home home, the mess of a shoebox she’d grown up in that she, for once, hasn’t yet been able to pluck up the courage to return to. the two may have been lived in by people with vastly different tastes, sure, but the fact they’re lived in at all, not just resided at - that’s what’s brought her the most comfort, and maybe, that’s why she’s found hanging around much more preferable to… well, as of yet, anything.

and then, of course, there’s tito himself - it’s not a praise she’d ever thought she’d sing, but she doesn’t think there’s any person she’d rather have first encountered upon rejoining the living than them. they’re sweet, and generous, and all the things she thinks she could want from a living host - so when he admits that he’d long dreamed of living alone, dali’s nothing short of taken aback. “really? i think i might be the opposite - i’m an only child, but i don’t think i could ever go solo. me and my mum could never shut up at home, like, we got genuine noise complains, and then with the boys… well,” she pauses, giving him a look that can only say ‘you-know’, “you’ve seen us. i think i’d just miss the noise too much to live alone.” she lets a silence hang between them for a second, but there’s only so long dali can go without tugging on a loose thread. “your brother… you see him often?”

a quiet noise, one that sounds almost like a sad sort of laugh, leaves tito at dali’s comment about the noise she grew accustomed to between her mom and the boys. her pointed look — one that suggests tito knows exactly what she’s talking about — earns a small smile. they do know. perhaps not as well as dali does after only being exposed to it for a week, but they know. “i used to think that, too. that i’d miss the noise. i couldn’t imagine a life without being woken up every morning by my dad singing while making breakfast, but...” they trail off, dropping their head for a moment to look down at their lap so that dali can’t see the way his smile wavers. tito knows they don’t have as much loss to mourn as dali does right now and the last thing they want is to make this all about him. “but things changed. i got used to the quiet before i started living alone. it wasn’t so bad.”

HE’S EASING INTO THIS. he can feel it happening, like a warm blanket pulled over his skin; rafa needs the shock of the cold air again, someone yanking the covers right back off. he can’t get too comfortable. “ you don’t need half of LA catching wind of a ghost band operating out of your apartment, ” he deadpans as he repeats himself, looking down in an attempt to hide the half-smile flickering on his face. the image of someone walking in on floating instruments is an amusing one — even he has to admit that. still, he feels himself hesitating as tito tiptoes across the line he’s drawn in the sand, knowing he’d told himself nothing too personal for a reason. it’s not that bad, really, but given an inch, he expects tito to take a mile. talking about himself, opening up… they’re all just things that will make him trust them, make him want to connect to them more, and he shouldn’t open himself up to that. he can’t. rafa fucking knows better, but he’s still fighting with himself constantly. 

and yet, despite all of his reservations, he still answers the question honestly. “ no, ” he admits. “ not really. not anymore. ” when he’d been alive, those things had been his creative outlets — music and photography. he’d shared his talents with the world, yes, but there had been days that he’d done it just for himself. days where he’d take his camera and shoot scenes of the city instead of concerts; days where he’d play from his heart instead of sheet music. the admission makes rafa feel vulnerable, exposed; he lets out a short laugh that he knows sounds forced, looking anywhere except tito’s eyes. “ anyway, ” he deflects poorly, catching tito’s gaze by accident and instantly regretting it. his eyes are dark and warm, far too inviting, and he stumbles over the desire to sink into them. “ what do you keep for yourself, then? ”

at least it’s an answer, tito thinks to himself. it isn’t much of anything to go off, but it’s enough for right now. despite the fact that they’ve never been anything short of a chatterbox, they have no problem when it comes to drawing conclusions. besides, they’re no stranger to the knowledge that sometimes there just aren’t words to encompass everything that you want to say. rafa’s answer, though not very specific, is enough for tito to conclude that rafa did have something that was his at some point in time. if he had to wager a bet, they’d say it was probably when rafa was alive. tito’s never been dead, obviously, so they can’t speak to exactly what’s going on inside of rafa’s head, but he’s no stranger to loss. rafa can say less and tito can say more and maybe, if they’re lucky, they’ll say something that can show rafa that he isn’t entirely alone.

he stood with his back facing tito, running his hands along the sleeves of the middle aisle. it was a little fruitless, since his fingers couldn’t actually catch on anything, but the feeling was enough to bring back a rush of memories. he could even remember coming here before killer conclusions. back when his only friend was the petty high school rumors that circulated around him, or the empty movie theater chair he sat in when he wanted to kill a friend-less weekend.

he knew the cathedral must’ve changed hands within the last decade and a half, but he was grateful to whoever it was for keeping the place a classic. it was strange how they’d never know it, but they were singlehandedly keeping a dead twenty two year old sane. if that was still a possibility.

august pivoted sharply at tito’s confession of basic sacrilege. “you realize that’s unacceptable, right?” he’d never admit it, but actually, he was thankful that tito was nineties clueless. it gave him something to do with his time, besides mope. 

“not to go all ‘ back in my day ’ on you, but cassette tapes were the fuckin’ best there is. it’s like, the best way to pay your respect to an artist. having to sit there in your car until the radio happens to play the song you want. kinda like fate is allowing you to take that song and store it forever. now it’s all so quick, you don’t even have to think about how much you need to hear the damn song. how much you appreciate that somebody made it. what the hell is up with that?” august paused, as if tito could actually conjure up an answer, then pressed on quicker than it would’ve taken them to retort. “plus, cassette tapes get you laid, dude. there’s nothing like the pay off of sitting there, spending all this time on something, and then finally getting the goods in return. you know?”

august’s verdict, though perhaps a bit harsh, isn’t entirely unfair. sometimes the rapid advancement of technology shocks him, and he’s been alive for all of it. as someone who paid minute-by-minute on a tracfone flip phone until they graduated high school, tito thinks they might be able to understand the  technological disconnect better than most. it took them a little while to figure out things like emojis and music streaming services and social media, too. besides, if teaching tito how to record a cassette tape helps to cut back on the amount of time they spend fearing that august’s drumming is going to cause one of his neighbors to file a noise complaint, they’ll gladly pick up the new skill. 

to be fair, what august is saying makes the process of recording music onto a cassette sound almost beautiful. in their own defense, though, it isn’t like tito is a stranger to appreciating music. instant gratification is more of a foreign language to them than anything. “i used to wait all week for saturday morning, when my dad let me go pick out a new cd. it was never the brand new one that everyone my age was talking about listening to — usually it was one that nobody had ever even heard of — but i always played the hell out of it, anyway. over and over until my brother was so sick to death of hearing it that he tried to hide it from me.” an almost fond smile crosses their face at the recollection of it. what they wouldn’t give to have one more day in that apartment with all of them together again.

CELIA: do you want to fall in love?

a hint of a smile, albeit a faintly sad one, crosses their face at the question. there aren’t words that can express the extent to which tito wants to love and to be loved in return. part of him fears that there isn’t enough love in the world to fill them up, but that’s far more than the answer the question requires. so, instead, they offer a small nod. “of course i do.”

EDGAR: do you want to make your family proud?

"yes.” the one-word reply doesn’t come with confidence or certainty, almost sounding more like a question than an answer. the truth is, they want to make their family proud, but he doesn’t know if that will ever happen. there are two distinctly different paths that his parents want — wanted — for tito, and they aren’t sure they’ll ever make it on either front. the reality that they might not make either of their parents proud ever is a terrible one, but one that feels more tangible than either alternative. “i want to. i do. but i don’t know if i ever will.”

PORTIA: when did you lose your innocence?

"i was fifteen.” the answer sounds almost strangled, like it got caught somewhere in tito’s throat and couldn’t be forced all the way out. even now, years later, the memory is hard to face. “i grew up lucky. we didn’t have much but that didn’t matter because we had each other and we were happy. i thought... if nothing else, i would always have my family. i thought god or the universe or whatever gave me exactly what i needed and it would all be fine, but...” they shake their head. “but then my dad didn’t come home.” 

37: is it easier to forgive or forget?

"easier?” tito repeats, brow furrowing at the question. if they’re being honest, neither one of the aforementioned options are easy. he knows what he wants to do — forgive, always forgive — but that doesn’t make it easy. it’s been eight years since their dad died and no matter how hard they try, they haven’t found it in himself quite yet to forgive the people who were responsible for it, whoever they were. “i think they’re both hard, but i also think that forgiveness is worth it. i’m trying to be better at it but it certainly isn’t easy.” 

62: what makes you happy?

answered !

though what he’d said was as accurate as he could muster off the top of his head, it still surprises him to see tito taking his words to heart. he shouldn’t be surprised by now, he supposes — he hasn’t known them for long, but rafa already understands a few simple things about tito. one of the most important things: if nothing else, he does everything with his heart. it’s far too sweet for someone who’s still alive — who still has so much to lose — and somewhere deep inside him, it ignites a protective instinct that rafa has to work hard to quash. they’re the exact kind of person he wishes he could be; the kind of person who, despite whatever he’s been through, still manages to be kind. he doesn’t have the slightest idea what tito has gone through, but this is LA. everyone has a story. rafa has made a point of not bothering with the stories of the living, and he knows this isn’t the time to go changing his tactics. but he’s still here, isn’t he? still asking useless questions? he should know better — usually that’s tito’s department. 

“ yeah, you don’t exactly need half of LA catching wind of a ghost band operating out of your apartment, ” he agrees, letting out a soft huff that almost sounds like a chuckle. he feels like he’s constantly pulling back — holding back smiles, laughter, himself — refusing to put more of himself out there than he can inevitably handle losing. tito is alive, and he is not. rafa knows he’d do well to remember that. “ and it can be nice to keep some things to yourself. something just for you to enjoy. ”

tito shifts their weight from one foot to the other, trying not to be hyperaware of the fact that they can’t tell whether rafa was laughing or just exhaling. it’s not like tito thinks they’re the funniest or most interesting person in the world — this whole seeing and talking to ghosts thing is by far the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to them, and it has approximately nothing to do with him and everything to do with random chance. still, compared to all the cool people, both alive and dead, that rafa’s likely had the opportunity to meet throughout his life, tito feels... small. for fuck’s sake, rafa has an accent, which means he’s at least lived in two countries — two continents — and maybe more than that. tito might think twice about asking if rafa hadn’t already clued them into the fact that personal questions are completely off the table. which is fine. if rafa doesn’t want tito to know him, they can’t say that they really blame him. absently, tito can’t help but wonder if eddie operates under the same unspoken rules with rafa — if rafa’s issue is with tito personally or just the fact that he’s alive. 

a gaunt smirk tilted the corners of august’s lips. “no offense taken. — and for the record, i happen to like nineties music. i didn’t kick the bucket until ‘05, remember?” he let tito stow away rumours, instead opting to wind down the aisle and see what other gems he could find. back in his day ( that is to say, when he was not dead ) he used to wander the store aimlessly until he found an album that jumped out at him. that was the beauty of the cathedral. the way they set out the records made absolutely no sense, not even the employees could find what they were looking for. you’d have to stumble on it. sure, sometimes you got duds, but august had discovered all of his musical heroes through this method.

he ran his hand along the record sleeves in an attempt to recreate it, but found himself unable to make contact a second time. a sigh escaped his lips. so much for that. here he was thinking the cathedral could make him feel better. and yet, it was another ghastly reminder of everything august no longer was.

he braved a smile for tito that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "they used to have this tiny little shelf of cassette tapes by the counter. they always had the coolest shit. it was whatever people happened to record onto ‘em. i used to have the sickest tape of a bunch phil collins’ best drum solos. i used to keep it in my car and play it on repeat. it pissed everyone off so much.”

it’s a little devil may care, the way august refers back to his own death. the words kick the bucket are almost enough to make tito wince on instinct, but they do their best to suppress the reaction. after all, it isn’t his death august is talking about. still, tito isn’t sure that he could shrug off finding out that they were dead for fifteen years in just one short week — but maybe that’s just the anxiety talking. “right, ‘05,” tito nods, trying his best to think back to the year and what august would have missed in the second half of the decade, but it’s not like they have the most vibrant memories to choose from. “when i was eight years old. can’t say i had much autonomy in selecting what music i listened to in second grade, but i remember thinking jesse mccartney was pretty cute.” they gasp, suddenly struck with the realization that august might not know who jesse mccartney is. “don’t tell me you don’t know beautiful soul.” 

they’re quick to be distracted when august turns on his heel and begins to peruse the rows of records, wandering almost aimlessly down the aisle. “this is kind of how i found you guys. or, well, your cd at least,” he says, still quiet enough that only august can hear them speaking. “it was my dad’s thing, actually. he used to let me pick out cd’s but only if you couldn’t tell what was in them by looking at them. he said that’s how the music chooses you.” 

03: do you regret anything?

answered !

39: how old were you when you had your first kiss?

another question that makes their cheeks feel hot. “oh. well, it wasn’t until college.” they know that there’s nothing wrong with that, but sometimes they wonder how much it really affected their love life — or lack thereof — when it took them so long to figure out... well... everything about himself. “i think i was eighteen. maybe nineteen.”

68: who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

"define deep. i feel like when you accidentally summon three ghosts out of a cd and spend most of your time talking to legally dead people, all of your conversations are pretty deep.” it’s only been a week and they already have had more deep conversations with the ghosts than probably anyone else in their life combined ( except maybe kerry ) and they’ve only barely scratched the surface of their lives. “but if you mean non-ghost related, then probably kerry. she’s pretty good at getting me to actually talk about stuff.”

for a minute, tito was sure that dali would be the one who took the longest to come around  — which, maybe she was but it didn’t take nearly half as long as tito expected. at least, not with them. rafa is still a work in progress, but they have faith in eddie’s ability to make a case for him. the thing about dali is, compared to august and eddie, she’s nothing short of a hardass, but once tito got to know her a little bit better, they could see just how many parts of her were inexplicably familiar. her tendency to be fiercely protective over her band reminds tito of his own hesitance to introduce them to kerry. her habit of already nudging him in the bolder direction that they tend to avoid when left to their own devices ( despite only knowing each other for a week ) isn’t too far off of how kerry’s been their whole lives. and, perhaps most significant of all, dali’s love and passion for music makes him feel like he’s around his dad again. now they’re at the point where dali’s presence is a welcome one. 

03: do you regret anything?

"wow, that’s... that’s quite the question, isn’t it?” and that’s not quite an answer, they’re quick to realize. “i mean, the only good answer is no, but i don’t think that’s true. as much as i’d love to say that i don’t regret anything, i regret a lot of things. i regret things that i did, and things that i didn’t do, and things that other people did, and things other people didn’t do. but the thing about regret is that there’s nothing productive about it. you can’t change what did or didn’t happen in the past, you know? whether you regret it or not, there’s no point in dwelling on it.”

52: do you believe everything happens for a reason?

"no.” the answer comes too quickly, too short and too sharp, to feel right in his mouth. it feels like it goes against their nature to shut something down so quickly, but it’s true. “i’m sure that some things happen for a reason — like me finding the killer conclusions cd in the first place, i think there was probably a reason why that happened... even if i don’t know what it is yet. but the fact that they died in the first place? or the fact that rafa died, or my dad... i don’t know, i don’t think there was any reason for all of that. sometimes there’s a reason but sometimes bad shit happens for no reason at all.”

69: do you believe in soulmates?

for some ( silly ) reason, the question makes tito want to flush. a soulmate? for them? somehow, it doesn’t seem likely. and yet... “i mean, it would be nice, wouldn’t it? to think that out there... somewhere... there’s someone perfect for you, just waiting for you to spend your lives together?” an almost dreamy sounding sigh escapes his lips despite himself, but they’re quick to reign it back in. “i don’t know. maybe. but if ghosts are real, why not soulmates, too?”

27: have you ever broken someone’s heart?

they hesitate, lips pursed together in a moment of deep thought. “well, nobody’s ever told me so, if that’s what you’re asking.” and thank goodness for that, tito isn’t sure he could bear it if someone looked them in the eye and told them that they were breaking their heart. the guilt might eat him alive. “but, uh. i think i broke my mom’s heart when i decided to stay here instead of leaving with her and my brother. she never said it, but... i know.”

31: does somebody love you?

"i mean, i sure hope there’s at least someone who does.” they attempt to laugh off the way that the question strikes somewhere painful between their ribs, but the sound comes out more nervous than anything else. “i think so, but it’d be awfully sad if i was wrong, huh?”

62: what makes you happy?

"lots of things make me happy. music makes me happy. thinking about how i used to play with my dad and how he used to take me to the bakery on saturday mornings makes me happy. my favorite sweaters, and breakfast with my friends, and finding a cd from someone you’ve never heard of at a thrift store — even if it does come with three ghosts.” maybe the things that make them the happiest make them saddest, but he thinks that, if anything, that’s just a testament to how happy they used to be. “and, you know... raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens and all that.”

IT TAKES MORE EFFORT than anticipated to hold back his smile. “ i remembered, ” he replies, like it’s obvious. like it’s easy. to be truthful, rafa spends much of his time trying not to run into other people — it saves him the time and effort of attempting to protect himself if he never interacts with anyone in the first place. but some people, people like tito, aren’t so easy to shake. they make themselves known, they pop up when rafa simply can’t avoid it, and he’s left with no choice but to remember. sometimes it feels like that’s all he’s here for — to remember. to be a relic of dead, forgotten things. still, tito makes him feel a little more alive. their attentiveness makes him feel sharper, more in focus; the fuzziness of death feels a little farther away when he’s in his sights. it’s kind of disconcerting. “ well, that’s a start, ” he drawls, amused. he can almost picture tito gently lecturing eddie that perhaps glass isn’t the best practice material for beginners. his smile quirks slightly higher at the quick show they put on, patting empty pockets and faux distress written across their features. it’s cute. “ rookie mistake. ” he shakes his head, a small show of his own. “ like i said, practice is what’ll really help him. and memories. remembering the object as a solid thing and not something you’re able to pass through is the basic idea. ” there’s not much else he can do without actually watching eddie attempt to touch something, but rafa doesn’t want to let tito go just yet. “ are they giving you hell so far? ” he asks, referring to both eddie and his ghostly bandmates. “ or are they manageable? ”

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

03: Do you regret anything?

04: Are you insecure?

05: What is your relationship status?

06: How do you want to die?

07: What did you last eat?

08: Played any sports?

09: Do you bite your nails?

10: When was your last physical fight?

11: Do you like someone?

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

14: Do you miss someone?

15: Have any pets?

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

18: Are you scared of spiders?

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

26: What are you craving right now?

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

30: What’s irritating you right now?

31: Does somebody love you?

32: What is your favourite color?

33: Do you have trust issues?

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

51: Favourite food?

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

54: Is cheating ever okay?

55: Are you mean?

56: How many people have you fist fought?

57: Do you believe in true love?

58: Favourite weather?

59: Do you like the snow?

60: Do you wanna get married?

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

62: What makes you happy?

63: Would you change your name?

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

69: Do you believe in soulmates?