#partial smau

Even with your eyes now open, all you see is darkness. Red fabric shifts a few feet in front of you, as if someone is pulling it to the side. Pain radiates through your head as you stare ahead at the empty seats entering your vision. You’re in some kind of theatre, but it’s clearly abandoned. Dust particles shine in the slivers of light coming from cracks in the ceiling, making your nose itchy and mouth dry.

When you try to move and find you can’t, panic flares in your chest. Looking down at yourself, you see rope binding your wrists and ankles to a rickety, wooden chair. Craning your neck, you look to see if there’s anyone to the sides of the stage, but there isn’t. Of course, there isn’t.

A slow clap sounds from in front of you, snapping your attention back to the empty seats. Someone walks down the left side aisle, and even in the dim lighting, you already know who it is. Once Hyunjin is at the edge of the stage, he lifts himself up easily and walks until he’s in front of you. You look up at him, unable to name the emotion stirring in your chest. He’s your brother. He’s Jeongins murderer. Underneath his calm mask, you sense he’s feeling the same whirlwind of emotions you are.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin whispers your name. One of his hands comes up to touch your hair and you flinch. He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You blink, his hushed confession catching you off guard. He’s sorry? There are so many thoughts running through your head, you can’t speak.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this.” His tone turns cold as his hand falls. “I wish you didn’t… well, I guess it wasn’t your fault. He contacted you.”

You know who Hyunjin is referring to. Reaching out, you fail to feel his presence and your heart sinks.

“You know, I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since dad let it slip that you were out there somewhere,” Hyunjin admits, beginning to walk a slow circle around your chair. “I’ve always yearned for a sibling- someone to understand what it was like. Of course, you wouldn’t know. Little Miss Perfect.”

He assigns the title to you with venom in his voice, spitting the words out. The jealousy is obvious, knowing that you got to grow up in a nice home with nice parents in a nice neighbourhood, while he got the short end of the stick.

“If dad had chosen you,” Hyunjin hisses, stopping in front of you again. “If he had kept you, maybe this all wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe if you didn’t kill Jeongin, this wouldn’t be happening,” you whisper, your voice catching a little.

“What did you just say?” Hyunjins voice raises. His hands snap onto your forearms, leaning the chair back with the force. “Why are you mentioning him? To piss me off?”

You let out a small squeak as the chair rocks, the previous panic coming back tenfold. Hyunjin laughs at your reaction, shoving the wooden seat away. It tips dangerously and for a moment, you think you’ll fall off the stage.

“Everything became so clear when I heard that voice memo in his phone, you know. It all made sense, him wanting to sabotage me.” Hyunjin leans against the chair, hanging his head forward. Hot breath caresses the tip of your ear. “Clearly, I was going to get the role, not him. So Jeongin was gonna speak, was gonna ruin my whole career.”

A shuddering breath sounds beside your ear, Hyunjins emotions beginning to crack through his attempt at a stone faced character. Fingers grip the edge of the chair again causing you to inhale sharply, bracing yourself for whatever he’ll do next, but nothing happens. He lets go.

“I really liked him.”

Hyunjins words catch you off guard. You try to crane your neck to spot him, but he’s wandered too far away. When your chair suddenly scrapes backward, you unintentionally make a small yelp. Another harsh laugh echoes in the large room.

Lifting your head, you could have sworn somebody entered the theatre, but there’s no one. To your right, another shadow appears. When the dull pain begins in the back of your skull, you know exactly what’s happening.

“How are you controlling them?” You speak up, looking into the open air.

No answer. More spirits file in, each taking a seat to watch the play that is your execution. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? This will be your final moments at the hands of none other than your own brother. What’s one more life to him?

Something shifts beside you. Turning your head, you see a mannequin with an uncanny resemblance to the boy you’ve been speaking to for weeks on your haunted phone. Red paint drips down the mannequin's face, freshly applied and soaking the black, messy wig sitting atop its head. Small details like Jeongin’s fox-like eyes are delicately painted; the love the two boys once shared is obvious in it all. You swallow down a sob. There is something truly heartbreaking in this last act of love and the desecration of what once was and could have been.

“He never loved me, not like I loved him.” Hyunjins cold fingers wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure for your breaths to come out wheezy. “Especially not after… not after he saw what a monster I really was.”

The crack of his voice sounds through the theatre, hot tears slipping down his cheeks as he continues. “You can’t bring him back. You’re the last piece connecting him to this world, so you have to go. I’m sorry, Y/n. Maybe in another life we’ll be the siblings we were meant to be, in a world that isn’t so cruel and unforgiving.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you gasp out, one last ditch effort to change his mind. “Jeongin still loves you, I know he does! He-”

“Liar! You’re lying!” Hyunjin lets go of your throat and stomps backstage.

“I’m not!” You squeak as your chair lurches back again. You speak quickly. “In the short time I’ve known him, he’s never spoken ill of you. Never. Even now, knowing the truth, I’m convinced he would forgive you. We can move on! You can be the actor you’ve always dreamed of! His death won’t be for nothing-”

You shout as your chair lifts off the ground, flipping you upside down. Now, as you spin slightly, you see Hyunjin tying the end of a rope to something offstage, the other end tied to the spindles on the chair you’re in.

“Welcome to your final act.” Hyunjin hisses, slowly stepping toward you and clapping. The audience follows suit, ghostly applause filling the small space. He stops short in front of you, your face hanging down at eye level. There’s a strange look on his face, something between sorrow and exhilaration.

Behind him, one by one, figures begin to stand. Each spirit takes their turn to calmly walk to the left of the stage and up the steps, agonizingly slow. You recognize the first lady from the flower shop as she stands next to Hyunjin, a terribly apathetic look on her face. It’s getting hard to focus now, blood rushing to your head the longer you’re turned upside down. The more spirits that join her have you dizzy, feeling on the verge of getting sick. What an embarrassing way to go.

She places a cold hand on your cheek, stealing your breath away. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, a frigid sensation coursing through your veins and burning your nerves. A bitter laugh sounds from beside you as more hands touch you in various places, each more desperate than the last. It’s becoming harder to stay awake. You sense yourself beginning to slip.

His voice comes like a distant whisper at first, something so faint you barely notice. Then, it’s louder, like a murmur. Then, nearly a shout. You’re gasping loudly, vision blurring as the theatre comes back into view. Spirits have parted, the energy in the room becoming anger itself as Jeongin strides down the aisle, pushing through the crowds that have now formed.

“Hyunjin.” His voice holds a quiet fury. “Let her go.”

“Remember this place, Innie?” Hyunjin’s voice wavers slightly, the crack in his facade growing bigger. “Do you?”

The boy in front of you looks startled to see his dead best friend in the flesh- or lack thereof. Jeongin doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of the stage, placing his palms on the edge as if to pull himself up. Multiple spirits step forward, hopping off and dragging him backwards into one of the seats.

“Of course, I do,” Jeongin answers, voice strained as he struggles to free his limbs from the other ghosts.

“You got the lead.” Hyunjin saunters to the front of the stage. “I was pushed to the side, again. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you be better than me in the one thing I was- am good at?”

“Hyunjin,” Jeongin tries again, shaking dark bangs from his eyes to get a better look at his former best friend. “Please.”

“Please what? Let her go?” The taller boy scoffs and kneels, hopping off the stage.

As this conversation unfolds, the spirits onstage have returned to draining the life out of you. Words muffle as Hyunjin gets closer to Jeongin, face close and voice low. It’s getting incredibly hard to stay awake now. Knowing you can’t speak, you try reaching out to Jeongin with your mind.

Jeongin.

His eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment before returning his focus on Hyunjin.

You have to… Your eyes flutter closed.

Y/n, stay with me, his voice returns back to you. A small smile slips onto your raw lips, skin feeling tighter around your mouth now. The dead seem to be having a tragic effect on your looks, not that it matters much when you’ll be joining them in mere minutes.

Use- use his energy. It’ll make you stronger, you conclude, body growing slack.

With your eyes closed, you don’t see the slight panicked expression on Jeongins face as he looks over to where you hang. Your skin has grown wrinkled, cheeks gaunt and eyes sunken. Gray hairs sprout from your scalp, and your lips are chapped and bleeding. Hyunjin steps away and takes something from a spirit nearby.

“Thank you,” he says politely, sticking his nose into the bouquet and sniffing deeply.

Jeongin immediately recognizes the flowers from the shop, the arrangement something you worked on not too long ago. Black dahlias and purple monkshood sit limply in the lace wrapping them, starting to wilt. Hyunjin makes his way back onstage and to the rope holding you up. With a small flick of his wrist, a knife appears seemingly out of nowhere. Always one for dramatics, he is. In a swift movement, the rope has been cut and you’re falling to the ground.

Wood splinters all around you as the chair breaks from the force. You don’t move. Why aren’t you moving? Move, please move.

“What a terrible way to go. I can’t imagine having your literal life source bled from your body is too pleasant.” Hyunjin crouches over you and places the flowers under an all too floppy arm.

Something snaps in Jeongin. He can still feel you, but you’re barely there. A small spark in the dark, but still there. Holding onto that connection, Jeongin uses it to fuel him. It’s strange how your energy never seemed to drain around him, and how it seemingly made him stronger. If he could use that now…

Jeongin stands abruptly, freeing himself from the spirits holding him back. As they go flying back, Hyunjin stands and eyes the boy in front of him.

“Interesting,” Hyunjin mumbles, eyes growing wide as Jeongin pulls himself onto stage.

Ghosts seem to cower in his presence, and he can feel himself filling with energy- your energy, despite your lifeless body still lying by Hyunjins feel.

“I asked you to let her go nicely.” Jeongin grits out, anger powering every step forward. “You had your chance. I’m taking her back, and you don’t get a say.”

Without hesitation, Jeongin surges ahead and knocks Hyunjin down. His hands grip onto his throat tightly, the slight transparency becoming more and more solid as Hyunjin struggles. As he’s taking what could have been his final breaths, Jeongin lets go and stares down at his friend. Hot tears slide down his cheeks as his palms grasp Hyunjins face, all fight gone.

“I didn’t want to sabotage you,” Jeongin cries. “Why didn’t you believe me? When have I ever once tried to undermine you? I loved you! I still do!”

Jeongins voice comes out broken and angry, his body slumping forward. His forehead lands on Hyunjins and he can hear the small wheezes escaping his mouth. Ghostly fingers become warm and vibrant against translucent skin as Jeongin sobs. When he’s finally able to pull back, Hyunjin is staring back up at him, acceptance written on his face.

“I wanted too much,” Hyunjin says quietly, voice echoing slightly in the empty theatre. Around the two, all spirits have left. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, Innie. I never wanted us to end up this way.”

“Me neither.” Jeongin shakes his head. “Take care of yourself. Maybe I’ll see you again in the future.”

“In another life, brother.” Hyunjin sucks in a breath, eyes growing distant.

“In another life,” Jeongin repeats.

In seconds, Hyunjin is gone.

A door slams open, two bodies jump onto the stage. They both ignore Jeongin as they rush to your side, picking you up under the arms. One hoists you into his arms and the other breaks away as they head up the aisle. Something shoves Jeongin slightly.

“C’mon,” Minho’s voice is far away. “We aren’t leaving you here, not after everything.”

-

Sun seeps through the thin curtains in Changbins bedroom, hurting your eyes as you peel them open. Your whole body aches as you attempt to sit up, and someone gently pushes you back against the plush pillows.

“Don’t,” Jeongins voice is soft beside you. “You need to rest up.”

“Jeongin?” Your eyes light up, unwelcome tears stinging. “What happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your energy… it saved us. I was able to take Hyunjins energy.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Hesitantly, you place a hand over his and resist the urge to gasp at how real it feels under yours.

“It felt dirty.” His fingers intertwine with yours.

Unsure what to say, you tug him forward by the hand. Jeongin slumps forward into your open arms, breathing you in. Carefully, he climbs fully into bed with you, holding you tightly against his chest.

“Never get your life sucked out in front of me again, you hear that?” Jeongin tries joking, his laugh coming out weak.

“I’ll try not to,” you reply, squeezing his hand. “And Jeongin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you whisper, looking up at him despite the twinge in your neck. “For saving me… for saving Hyunjin.”

Jeongin sucks in a breath and looks away. He hadn’t really thought of it as saving Hyunjin, not when it meant the end of his life. Since the attempt on your life and his own ceasing to exist in that theatre, Jeongin had noticed some changes regarding his own case. It was no longer him who jumped from that bridge, but Hyunjin, as if the two had simply switched places.

“Can we just… not speak for a while?” Jeongin asks quietly, a slight waver in his voice.

You nod, relaxing against him. After a long while, Changbin brings in some tea for the two of you, but they get left untouched. Neither of you can move, paralyzed with grief. All this because of some stupid phone scam. Surreal. That’s what it feels like.

As the sky grows dark, Jeongin finally breaks the silence. “Take me on a date.”

“What?” You can’t help but laugh at the sudden statement.

“Take me on a date,” he repeats, looking down at you. “Now that I’m a normal, living person, I want us to go out. I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone like this. No one but Hyunjin.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, fingers idly trailing up and down his forearm.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“Maybe you aren’t thinking clearly because of what happened.”

“Not thinking clearly?” Jeongin shakes his head, a small smile breaking out on his face. “If anything, I’ve learned I can’t hesitate on anything any longer. Life’s too short. My best friend could kill me tomorrow, for all I know.”

You gape at his joke, but he just laughs and presses his forehead against yours.

“Please don’t reject me. That would be really embarrassing,” Jeongin mumbles against your skin.

“We should go on a vacation far away from here,” you say quietly, his smile infectious. “Let’s go to Europe or something. I don’t think I can stay here much longer.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeongin whispers, eyes locking with yours.

Maybe this isn’t the happy ending you would have asked for, but it’s the one you got, where Jeongins case is solved and the two of you can live out the rest of your days together. Being unable to save Hyunjin stings, shared grief weighing heavily on both of your chests, but there’s the hope of seeing him again one day. Maybe he’ll be a little more put together this time. Maybe he’ll find happiness, wherever he is.

In another life.

In another life.

~

notes ~ omg it's the end. lowkey finallyyyy this was supposed to be a quick quick and now it's been what, over a year? idk what happened to me. i think i myself got possessed by a sad ghost or smthn. anyway,, i hope this final chapter was satisfying and enjoyable for yall 🫶

To give a bit of context, you and Daniel had pretty much known each other since you were both in nappies. Every typical experience people had growing up, you experienced with each other. So for you guys, being platonically romantic with each other was normal. He called you Darl, and you called him Babes. That’s just how it was with you two. 

Apparently, that wasn’t obvious to the people around you. 

Everyone thought you guys were the classic Childhood Sweethearts trope. Everyone you encountered thought you were dating but had yet to announce it. And why wouldn’t they think that? It was obvious that’s what was going on right?

It’s not like they saw how you could cheer Daniel up with just a hug and a kiss to his forehead after a bad race. How whenever Daniel had placed within the top 5, the first person he ran to was you, just so he could pick you up and spin you around. You followed Daniel to every race, literally every single race, even if he wasn’t driving. You were almost always right next to him, the exception being when his mother was also at the race and you would be seen with her. 

Even the other drivers were convinced you were dating. Max and Lando were always talking to each other about how they thought it was a little cute how long you guys were being secret about it, even though it was obvious to everyone. They never would’ve thought that they had the wrong idea about it the whole time. How could they when they saw Daniel get you a bouquet of Gladiolus and Aster flowers and a box of Favourites chocolate every year for your birthday. 

Lando had brought it up to him later that night when you were all out celebrating. 

“Mate, why the box of Favourites?” He asked him. “And why not get her roses?”

Daniel just smiled his winning smile and said to him, “She likes being able to have different chocolates without buying ten different boxes, and she hates that roses are everyone’s first thought for flowers.” 

Before Lando could continue his questions, you came up to them stumbling and giddy. 

“Babes! They’re playing our song, come on!” You had grabbed Daniel's arm and began trying to drag him to the dance floor. 

“Lead the way, Darl!” And he let himself be whisked away. 

-~-

The next person to try and subtly  get you to confess you were dating was actually Charles. He had known you both for a while, considering that Daniel had raced with his godfather, Jules. 

“So how long has Daniel been doing that for you?” He asked. The thing in question was Daniel braiding your hair so it was out of your face. Daniel had been on his way to his media duties when he noticed that you were constantly blowing bits of hair out of your face. Charles had just finished his own duties when he saw Daniel finish off the braid and tie it with the hair lucky he always kept on his wrist. When Charles had started to approach you both, he saw Daniel give you a quick kiss to the cheek before going to do his duties. 

You looked up from the email you were reading on your phone and looked at him, thinking about when exactly he had started braiding your hair for you. 

“I believe he learnt how just before exams got really tough in high school. So probably since we were around 16? Maybe 17?” You scratched the back of your neck as you spoke. “How come?”

“Just seemed very domestic. Like he’d been doing it all his life.” Charles shrugged. He was trying his best to be nonchalant about the new bit of evidence he could add to why you were already dating. 

You had laughed and thrown your head back. You made some offhand comment about how true it was because you and Daniel were getting so old before you each said goodbye and went your separate ways.

-~-

-~-

Daniel would never admit to anyone but himself that he loved you in more ways than you probably thought he did. He had admitted it to himself when you were both fresh out of high school. But he wasn’t sure if you also thought in the same way about him. So he acknowledged his own feelings but promised that he would never act on them unless he got cold hard confirmation from you. 

However his resolve was wearing thinner and thinner the longer he spent time alone with you. 

It was a calm night. One that had you and Daniel on the couch bundled up in a mountain of blankets and a plethora of snacks and cool drink in front of you. You loved the nights you spent with Daniel. 

The credits rolled for the movie you had just finished watching. You had fallen asleep just as the movie had ended so Daniel wasn’t worried about you complaining about missing the end of it like you usually did. He gently removed himself from the mound of blankets and set about tidying up  the mess around you before carefully lifting you and placing you on the bed in his guest room. 

Making sure that you were comfortable, he paused in the doorway. He loved how calm and secure you looked. Like there was nothing in the world that could possibly make you feel uneasy. 

These were the moments that he whispered to the world just how much he loved you. Hoping that one day, he wouldn’t have to whisper and that instead he could yell it from the top of his lungs. 

-~-

You took a bit longer to realise that Daniel was the one for you. You had already come to terms that wherever you ended up in life, Daniel would be right next to you throughout it all. You had known that ever since you were little. 

It took you until your mutual friend Jules, had spoken to you about Daniel. 

“So when will you tell him?” 

You were confused. Who was Jules talking about? And what were you supposed to tell him? “Who?” 

“Daniel.” was the only answer she got from the Frenchman. This made you more confused. 

“What do I need to tell Dan? I’ve already told him everything important.” 

He had the gall to laugh at you. “When are you going to tell him that you love him? It is obvious he loves you.” 

Everything he said added more and more to your confusion. What did he mean you needed to tell Daniel that you loved him? You always told him that. You and Daniel had been telling each other ‘I love you’ since you were little children. It was just something the two of you did as best friends. 

Taking pity on you and how clueless you seemed to be, Jules told you all about how he had noticed that you and Daniel did things to and for each other that people don’t ever do for someone that you claimed as your ‘best friend’. 

How a best friend wouldn’t be constantly worried about you catching a cold when it was barely sprinkling with rain. How a best friend would not let you cut his hair and tell people it’s because he trusts you the most. Jules told you that a best friend wouldn’t normally plan a fancy, private, and most importantly, romantic dinner for your birthday. 

And then he told you about things that a lover would do for their special person. How a lover would hoist you over his shoulder and walk around for everyone to see how in love he was with you. A lover would give him a hug from behind, your arms over his shoulders, whispering reassurances and comforts in his ear while giving him the occasional kiss to the temple. 

A lover would do anything and everything that you and Daniel did for each other. 

Hearing it from an outside party made you realise that you had been in love with Daniel for years. Thinking back on it, you had begun to fall in love with him when his career had started taking off. Of course you loved him before that, ever since you had met him, but that was when you found yourself in love with him. 

Jules could see the realisation dawning on your face. He smiled and patted your back, wishing you luck before walking off to find his family. 

-~-

You, Daniel and almost all of the other drivers were sitting around the backyard of Daniel’s Monaco home, playing around and watching the sunset. 

It had been years since you had that fateful chat with Jules. Everytime you thought of it, you had an indescribable urge to just lay everything out for Daniel to see. Looking over at where Daniel was, you saw him laughing at something. Lando had probably spit out his drink again. He never learnt that he could stand the taste of a mojito. 

You felt the wind breeze through your hair. You could just tell that it was Jules trying to encourage you. You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath. Giving yourself a quick pep talk, you got up and walked towards Daniel. 

“Could I quickly steal away from you guys? Won’t take long I promise.” You said once you got there. Receiving the OK from the others, you guided Daniel to a more secluded part of his backyard. There was an area that was sectioned off by some bushes he’d had planted when you told him years ago that you always liked the idea of a secret garden. 

“You okay, Darl?” he asked. His voice was gentle as he tried to figure out how to approach the situation. 

“Yes. Everything is great, I just need to tell you something away from all the others.” You had stopped in the middle of the little garden, facing him. You took his hands in yours. 

“What’s up? You’ve got me nervous.” He chuckled a little to ease the pit in his stomach. 

“Babes, we’ve known each other for so long now. It’s been so long that I literally can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I should have told you this years ago, but I guess nerves got the better of me.” You paused and took a deep breath. “Years ago, I promised Jules that I would tell you this. Not because I told him first either, because the bastard was too smart for his own good, he found out before I did.” 

Daniel’s face twitched the slightest bit at the mention of your late friend. Jules had meant the world to you both and you were heartbroken when you were told he had died. Daniel squeezed your connected hands in reassurance. 

“I’m in love with you Daniel. I think I always have been, but was just too oblivious to notice. I feel so safe when I’m around you and you are unbelievably understanding of everything I’ve ever gone through. I can only hope that I’ve managed to give you the same amount of safety and understanding that you’ve given to me. 

“I know that what I’m saying is probably going to throw you for a loop but I promised Jules that I would tell you and so this is me, keeping the last promise I ever made to him.” 

You were glad that that was the end of your big speech that you had come up with on the fly because no sooner had you stopped talking, Daniel had removed his hands from yours and cradled your head before leaning in to kiss you. 

You were slightly breathless when you parted, Daniel’s forehead leaning against yours. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we left school, Darl. It would make me the happiest I’ve ever been if you would let me call you my girlfriend.” This time you kissed him. 

-~-

Instead of rejoining the others, you and Daniel made your way to his garage and got in one of his many beautiful cars. You both had one destination in mind that would seal this new development in concrete. 

Monaco Cemetery. 

The moon was high in the night sky when you arrived at the cemetery. You both got out of the car and quietly made your way to the headstone that marked the burial place of Jules Bianchi. 

You moved to sit beside the grave, but Daniel had stopped you before you could sit. You were confused until he took off his jacket and laid it on the ground where you were standing. 

“Thank you, Dan.” You whispered. 

“Don’t wanna ruin your pretty dress, Darl.” 

You both sat in front of Jules grave in silence. Neither one of you wanting to break the peace. Eventually it was you who spoke in a soft whisper. 

“I did it, Jules. I told him. Just like I said I would.” You leaned your head on Daniel’s shoulder and he moved his arm to pull you closer to him. 

“He always knew it would happen, didn’t he?” Daniel whispered. 

“Jules was always smarter than we were, let’s be honest.”

The wind blew past them. If you asked them years later, when they recalled the night, they would tell you they heard him. Heard Jules laughing at them. 

“We should get back.”

“Yeah."

-~-

-~-

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danielricciardo Good things come to those who wait <3

Hyunjin is frozen in front of you, the memory ending there. With your eyes glued to Hyunjin, you don't notice Jeongin approaching you from the side, hand outstretched and hovering over your arm. Thinking better of it, he drops his hand and clears his throat instead. Through unshed tears you look over to him, an expression on his face that you can't quite read.

"There's more," Jeongin says softly, the air around you fragile. "Any second now..."

A pounding on the door catches your attention, your head snapping toward the sound. Your eyes find Past-Jeongin walking in the front door, calling out for his friend. When he sees Hyunjin on the floor still covered in blood, his eyes widen, and when he sees the body in the kitchen, he freezes by the armchair. The air stills, Jeongin glancing back and forth between the two, throat bobbing and hand now clutching onto the chair.

Slowly, he joins Hyunjin on the floor. Soft sobs escape Hyunjin's lips as his head is pulled onto Jeongin's lap, arms wrapping around the boys torso. For a long time, they sit like this. It's hard to read the expression on Present-Jeongin’s face, but the one of the past looks calculating, like he’s weighing something in his mind.

"I'll be right back," Jeongin whispers, helping Hyunjin into the armchair.

Handing his friend the box of tissues off the coffee table, he instructs the boy to try cleaning himself up as much as he can. After Hyunjin accepts the box, Jeongin heads up the stairs to the right, eyes looking at anything but the body on the kitchen floor. You follow him up.

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind him, he's clutching onto the sink and trying hard not to get sick. Jeongin takes a deep breath, body trembling and no longer able to stand. You join him on the floor as he slides down, back against the cupboards. There isn't a lot of time before Hyunjin will come looking for him.

"God, Hyunjin," Jeongin whispers, face crumpling. "What are we supposed to do?"

It takes him a few more minutes to stand again, his face still pale and hands still shaking, but he flushes the toilet and leaves the room. You follow Jeongin into Hyunjin's room, looking around to see all the little bits of your brother you never got to see- and probably never will.

The walls are decorated in art prints, both original and bought mixed together. An easel sits by the window collecting dust, and you spot another copy of the script he had in his bag peeking out from underneath his bed. Papers litter the desk, but you don't have time to take a closer look as Jeongin is quick in the room, only coming in to grab some new clothes.

Following Jeongin back down the stairs, you almost collide with him, not that you really can, as he stops suddenly before descending. His hand pauses above his jeans pocket, as if trying to make a silent decision. With a nervous swallow, Jeongin slips his phone out and opens some kind of recording app. He hits the button and shoves the phone into his hoodie this time, the loose fabric allowing for the microphone to pick up more. You can’t help but wonder why.

"What took so long?" Hyunjin's voice shakes as he accepts the clothes from Jeongin with clean hands, freshly washed. The blood on his neck and arms is gone too.

"Couldn't decide on a good outfit," Jeongin tries teasing lightly, but it's strained. "Get changed, okay? Then we can figure something out."

Hyunjin nods and gets to it. You turn around as he tosses his shirt off, clearly comfortable in the presence of Jeongin. Unfortunately, this has you facing the gruesome scene in the kitchen. Tiles are stained with red around the body, a large pool of blood now formed. How do humans have so much blood? Before your mind becomes stuck in these thoughts beginning to swirl, something blocks your view.

"You shouldn't have to see that," Present-Jeongin whispers, shaking his head.

Everything in you wants to leave this place with him, say screw it, who cares what happens? But another, bigger part of you needs closure, and he needs it too. You need to get to the bottom of this. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, unrelated to the dead body barely hidden from sight- something about this situation feels wrong. Your eyes don't leave Jeongin until the conversation behind you starts back up.

"I-I was thinking, while you were upstairs-" Hyunjin's breathing is coming in short, panicked gulps. "We have to move him. Maybe- maybe the lake?"

"Lake Haven?" Jeongins eyebrows furrow; Hyunjin nods quickly. "Just... dump him there? Won't that be suspicious?"

"No." A bitter laugh escapes Hyunjin's throat. "He's been drinking. They'll just think he finally had a bit too much."

Jeongin's lips part to say something, but close again after a moment of silence. Silently, you watch as the two of them head into the kitchen, Jeongin walking over to the small closet while Hyunjin crouches next to his fathers- no, your fathers body. A small noise slips from Hyunjins lips and he covers his mouth, new tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, pressing his palms into his eyes as he stands back up. "I'm sorry."

A hand rubs up and down his back gently as Jeongin joins him. It's hard to watch as they attempt to pack the body in trash bags. When they leave the house, you can sense the memory is over. There's no more blood on the floor, no more hints of the life once lived here... only you and present-day Jeongin.

"What now? We go back to the lake?" You ask, breaking the silence.

Jeongin shakes his head. "No. We need... we need to go to the bridge."

You don't question his sudden sureness, only nod and let him guide you out of the house. Taking one last look over your shoulder at the empty house, you swear you see someone in the upstairs bedroom window. If it’s anyone, it won’t matter soon. You’re almost to the bottom of this mystery.

Night sets in as you drive to the bridge, Jeongin by your side the whole time. How he’s still got enough energy to be here right now is beyond you, especially with the emotional toll this evening’s events have taken on you. You can’t even begin to imagine what he might be feeling and thinking, discovering something as big as this happened just before his own death. The bridge is quiet as you pull over, hearing the sounds of the highway underneath as you exit your car.

“Here we are,” you exhale, leaning against the railing and waiting for something to happen.

“Here we are.” Jeongin repeats, settling in next to you. He looks over to you, a sad smile on his face. “Thank you. For everything. You didn’t have to do this or go this far, but you did. I’m… I’m gonna miss you.”

“Oh, Jeongin.” You turn your body to face him better, unable to find it in yourself to tease him in what could be your final moments together. “I’m going to miss you too. I wish we could have more time together.”

“Kinda sucks, this whole dead thing,” Jeongin lets out a breathy laugh. “Especially after meeting someone as lovely as you.”

There are tears forming in your eyes, and for a moment, you think the figures coming toward you are a trick of the light before shouting follows. Wiping your eyes, the two of you are alert now, watching one of the bodies come into view.

“Admit it!” Hyunjin stalks behind Jeongin, now looking extremely similar to how you first met him, the same clothes on his body and the same shaggy haircut. “You knew it was down to us. You- you were going to use that against me-”

“Why would I do that?” Jeongin whirls on Hyunjin, hands in the air. “Is that what you think of me? A- a liar? A cheater?”

“No, that’s why I’m so hurt,” Hyunjin says, his voice low. “There’s no other reason you would have something like that saved after so long.”

“It’s been what, a few months?” Jeongin shakes his head. “That isn’t long-”

“And that isn’t my point!” Hyunjin snaps, throwing something to the ground.

Jeongin’s phone lands by your feet, and you’re a little surprised it didn’t even crack with how hard Hyunjin threw it. Now you can see what Hyunjin was looking at, the saved recording staring up at you. Oh. This does not look good for Jeongin at all.

“I figured out your plan.” Hyunjin takes slow steps toward Jeongin, venom in his voice. “After everything, you wanted to steal this from me too. Hwang Hyunjin, always second to his best and only friend.”

“What-” Jeongin starts, but is cut off by a loud, frustrated noise from Hyunjin.

“Don’t interrupt me!” There are hysterical tears now streaming down Hyunjin’s cheeks. “Don’t! I worked so hard for this role, and you were going to show them that recording and take it all away from me, right?”

“No.” Jeongin gives Hyunjin a panicked look, his friend now practically pinning him against the railing. “Hyunjin, I would never do that to you. I can back out if that’s what you want.”

Hyunjin groans loudly, clearly frustrated. “I want you to admit that you think I’m pathetic, that I’m a monster after what I did. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me now.”

“How I- what?” Jeongin steps back, the railing hitting his back. He glances over, realizing the dangerous set up, and speaks frantically. “Hyune, I only listened to it again because I couldn’t remember what it was, and I only recorded it in the first place just in case! In case of- of- I don’t know!”

Hyunjin laughs dryly, followed by a choked sob. “In case you needed to testify or something? Turn me in?”

“No! No, not at all.” Jeongin places a hand on Hyunjins chest, fingers trembling ever so slightly. “I was going to delete it, I swear.

“Problem is, I don’t believe you.” A sob leaves Hyunjin’s lips, his head now resting on Jeongin’s shoulder. “I can’t let you have this role, Innie. It’s my only way out of here. I can’t.”

Jeongin wraps his arms around his friend, trying to comfort the best he can. You watch from the side, seeing Hyunjins expression change from one of sorrow to a scarily blank face. He pulls away from Jeongin, hands gripping the boy's upper arms tightly. For a second, everything looks okay. Only for a second.

Hyunjins grip tightens. “I’m sorry.”

A scream is trapped in your throat as the rest of the memory plays out, seeing Jeongin struggle against Hyunjin in his final moments. You find yourself clinging to ghost-Jeongin’s arm, your other hand covering your mouth as Hyunjin shoves his best friend over the edge, almost falling down himself. Although the memory isn’t quite over, you can’t stop yourself from running to look over the railing as a car horn goes off, the sound of the crash beneath the bridge fading as you get closer.

There’s nothing. Nothing but a voice behind you.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” You recognize the cold tone of Hyunjin’s voice without having to turn around and see him. “I tried to warn you.”

Before you can do anything else, something hits your head-hard-and you go sprawling on the pavement. Your phone skitters away from you, but you manage to crawl to it and type out a final message as black dots swim in your vision. Someone is humming in your ear as the world turns to darkness.

notes ~ almost done! second last chapter- how are we feeling?

"Bye Bin!" You shout out the front door as Changbin heads out to get his parents from the airport. It's been a long week, weird occurrences since the whole thing with Minho happening throughout. You wonder how he's doing now after everything, getting closure and all that, but you're not close enough to ask.

As the day goes on, the sky gets dark, and you find yourself closing up shop in no time. Before you flip the open sign, you spot a box sitting by the door with a note and step outside. The box is small, and you assume this must be what Minho had sent as you pick it up, kicking the door shut behind you. Placing the package down on the counter, you read the note to yourself.

"Thought you might want to see these, signed 'L.M.'" You set the note down and grab the closest sharp thing- a pair of pruning shears- and slice the tape.

Inside is a small stack of photos and a folded up piece of paper. Taking the stack of photos into your hands, you immediately recognize the little boy in the photos as Hyunjin. Your heart aches slightly as you look through the rest, and there's a slight chill in the air. You look around the empty flower shop.

"Jeongin?" You call out; no answer.

You have to bite your lip to hold in a laugh, grabbing the folded piece of paper from the box as your phone buzzes next to you. Jeongin can wait.

"'Dug these up, thought you'd want to see', signed M." You read aloud, placing the note to the side. "Thanks, Minho."

Grabbing the stack of photos, you carefully pull off the rubber band holding the delicate items together. There are folds and cracks and pieces missing, love obvious in each photograph as you file through them. Some are of Hyunjin, and some are of you, both little kids living impossibly different lives. You're surprised to find one of both of you looking to be on some kind of play-date, and that's when you realize the photos of each of you alone are taken in the same park as this one. Your parents were hiding these from you.

A sick feeling rises in your throat. Why didn't they want you to see these when they clearly made an effort for the two of you to meet as kids? And... why didn't the play-dates continue? Everything gives you a strange feeling as you flip to the last photo. The house feels familiar, but you can't place why. Hyunjin stands next to his father, one hand holding onto Hyunjin's shoulder tightly. No one is smiling. The address is clear in the photo.

"I wonder..." You whisper to yourself, reaching over for your laptop. It doesn't take long for you to find the small house, seeing the current owners are renting it out. The location isn't far, only a thirty minute drive across town. With a few clicks, you have the place booked for this weekend.

"What are you planning?" A voice behind you asks.

Jeongin is leaning against the wall, his apparition flickering in and out with the little energy he has. It's clear the toll it's taking showing up to you physically, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths, like he's trying to calm down. His knuckles grip the back counter tightly, and his eyebrows are practically pressed together with effort. Instinctively, you move closer to him. The simple action has his body relaxing ever so slightly.

"I thought seeing where he grew up might be... I don't know," You sigh, not understanding the impulsive decision yourself. "I also thought you couldn't-"

"Maybe I wanted to see your face too," Jeongin admits quietly, looking away from you, and you swear you can see a flash of red on his face.

"Going back might bring up a memory," You think out loud, leaning against the other side of the counter across from him. Wood digs into your back, and you stretch your neck as you speak. "Like at the playground and the lake, who knows. It's the only thing I can think of, and something tells me we don't have much time left."

"What makes you say that?" Jeongin shifts, eyeing you.

"Ominous texts and whatnot, nothing crazy... yet." A sigh leaves your lips, shaking your head at the thought of potentially being in danger. "And the ghosts too, they've become more... frequent, I suppose. Noticing me more, haunting my dreams."

"I didn't realize how bad it's gotten," Jeongin says softly, rubbing his left arm. "I'm sorry, Y/n. You shouldn't have gotten tangled up in all of this. Whatever this is."

"I don't mind," You shrug, a small smile forming. "I got to meet you, didn't I?"

-

"It's a bit musty in here," You say, nose wrinkling as you walk into the small house.

No wonder the owners let you rent it out so quickly. The neglect and lack of use is evident as you go further into the house, only taking a moment to kick off your shoes. Dust covers every surface, your fingerprints leaving their mark on each piece of furniture you touch. There's an old arm chair in the living room that squeaks when you sit down, the fabric worn; you wonder if any of this furniture belonged to Hyunjins family or not.

Behind you, Jeongin paces the kitchen slowly, taking in the atmosphere. You're not sure he's remembering much, no memories beginning to take place around you, and you definitely don't want to press. A place like this is sure to bring up something a lot more sensitive than a couple playground conversation, something more personal, intimate. Whatever went on in this house, it couldn't have been good, you just get that vibe with the sudden chill in the air. Standing, you make your to get a glass of water, throat parched.

"Nothing yet?" You glance at Jeongin. His appearance has become more visible in your presence, and you don't find your energy being drained. Strange, how that only happens with Jeongin.

"No," He huffs, shaking his head. "Nothing at all-"

"Shit-" You accidentally cut Jeongin off, the glass you tried grabbing falling to the floor by your feet. "Ugh, no. Dammit."

You mumble to yourself as you crouch down and try picking up the bigger pieces, tossing them into the garbage under the sink. When you turn the direction of the broom closet, you catch Jeongin staring at something in the corner of you eye, focusing on him instead. Following his eyes, you hear it before you see it.

Arguing, slammed doors, footsteps stomping down the stairs. A now familiar head of blond hair comes into sight, groaning at whatever was just said. He moves between where you and Jeongin are in the kitchen, grabbing a bag off the counter that wasn't there previously.

"Sorry you don't agree," Hyunjin hisses, moving past the other man, who you now recognize as his father. "But I can't stay here any longer! I can't! You don't understand how suffocating it is."

"I don't understand how I raised someone so ungrateful," His father says, dangerously low.

Hyunjin pauses, hand hovering above the doorknob, then turns. There's a moment where his mask cracks, revealing the fear he's feeling in this moment. You can't tear your eyes away from the scene unveiling in front of you. How are you seeing this if Jeongin wasn't there?

"Ungrateful?" Hyunjin steps forward, acting more confident than he feels. "Try neglected, trapped, whatever."

"And try disobeying me one more time-" His father moves suddenly, grabbing the back of Hyunjins head by the hair with one hand, the other grabbing the hand holding the bag. "-see where that gets you."

In this position, it's difficult for Hyunjin to fight back, the fear from earlier now clear on his face as he looks up to his father. Without releasing his grip, his father drags him into the living area, right by the arm chair you sat in earlier, a different coffee table right beside it. Tossing Hyunjin to the ground, he grabs the bag, now lying abandoned by the door where it was dropped. Pages fly out of the open zipper, and his father wastes no time picking them up and ripping them apart- you can just barely make out the letters of one page, and realize it's the script for the movie him and Jeongin auditioned for.

With a small noise of pain, Hyunjin stumbles back into the kitchen, holding his wrist with one hand. Before he can get much further, his father is back on him, and you find yourself flinching back from the scene. It's hard watching this unfold, knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it. Across from you, Jeongin is frozen, lips parted slightly.

"Running away, like you always do," His father grunts, yanking Hyunjin back by his neck. "Should have gotten rid of you too... done nothing by make my life more difficult. 'Oh, I wanna be an actor', and I want you to be able to have a stable life, is that really too much to ask?"

The grip he has on Hyunjin loosens, but only for a moment, enough to let Hyunjin slip back onto the floor with a gasp. "Dad-"

"No, I've had enough of you taking advantage of everything I've provided for you." Once again, his fathers hands are on him, lifting him by the shoulders and pushing him against the kitchen counter- hard. A few empty bottles roll off and break, the sound of glass shattering ringing in your ears.

"Stop it!" Hyunjin's shout brings you back, seeing his body move on its own, pushing his father back enough to trip and fall backwards.

It's silent, the only sound a loud crack as his father's head hits the corner of the coffee table. Hyunjins breathing is shallow, and he's unable to move from where he's staring at his father's unmoving body.

"D-dad?" Hyunjin's voice barely comes out. With shaky legs, he crouches down beside his father, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Dad. Wake up. No, no, no, no..."

A few minutes pass, Hyunjins quiet sobs filling the air as he keeps shaking his father. You swallow, a giant lump forming in your throat, only for your heart to skip a beat as his father finally moves. The movement is sluggish, but somehow still powerful as his fist comes up to connect with Hyunjins jaw, causing the boy to lose balance.

"Why would you do that?" His father's words are slightly slurred, one hand clutching the back of his head as he advances on a scrambling Hyunjin, back toward where you stand in the kitchen.

One of Hyunjins hands find the neck of a bottle, holding the sharp end aimed at his father when his back hits the cupboard behind him.

"Don't come any closer," Hyunjins voice shakes, tears still falling.

His father laughs. "You were always so weak."

Everything happens too quickly- the lunge, the stab, the blood pouring all over Hyunjin. A strangled noise comes from one of the two bodies, but you can't tell who from. Neither one moves for a while, and you think the memory is over for a moment. That is, until Hyunjin pushes his father's body off of him, and you see the bottle sticking into his father's neck. The scene is brutal, frightening, and with trembling limbs, Hyunjin crawls over to his discarded back. He fumbles with the smaller pocket, then takes out a phone. After dialing a number, he lies on the floor, staring at the dead body now decorating his kitchen tiles.

"Innie," His voice cracks as he speaks. "I need you. Now."

~

notes ~ teehee. who's ready for the second last chapter ?!

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800 @dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken @lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12 @sillyhal @rensahazard @estella-novella @emi-han

"...hello? How'd you get this number?" You ask, very clearly confused.

No one should know your new number other than you, and now Changbin, so who...? There's no answer on the other line and you sigh, frustration rising as you continue to question the caller. Who is it, what do they want, again, how did they get this number, etc. Silence is all you get, about to hang up when you think you can hear someone's breath hitch.

Leaning into the phone, like that'll help you hear any better, you listen to a shaky breath. It sounds far off, like their phone is placed away from them. Maybe they didn't even know they called you. Turning your volume up, you still struggle to make out any other sounds over the breathing, not that it's all that loud. You're about to ask if they're okay, do they need you to get help, when the line cuts. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you can't hide the look of worry and bewilderment on your face.

Unplugging the charger from where it sits in the outlet under the table you're sitting at, you gather your things and get ready to leave. You agreed to meet at a café deeper in the city, somewhere with more traffic in case something happened. The seller had suggested it, saying this place had the best slices of chocolate cake you could have and even ordered you one when you arrived. All was going well, ignoring their unsteady hands and the sweat beading on their brow bone. Handing the phone over was a quick exchange as soon as your etransfer went through to them. That was when they broke the news; the phone doesn't turn on or charge, but here's both and you can figure it out yourself. They left in a hurry, not leaving you room to argue or demand your money back. You felt stupid.

As soon as you inserted the charging port into the phone, it turned on immediately and you smirked. The phone doesn't turn on? Sure, okay. After a few minutes of fiddling with settings, everything was ready. You texted Changbin, figuring you could give yourself some moments of peace before contacting anyone else you thought needed to know your new number.

You grab your bag and head to the door, keeping your phone out to text Changbin about the number that called you. When you open the door to go out, you're met with a hard wall and stumble back. Hands barely grab your arms as you nearly fall into another person, holding you upright and apologizing profusely. Looking up, you see a man around your age, eyes looking you up and down to check you're alright. His blond hair glows in the sunlight and he's wearing a smooth button-down, effortlessly gorgeous and somewhat familiar, but you can't quite pinpoint where you've seen him.

"I'm fine, sorry for bumping into you like that," you chuckle, moving his arms away from you. Physical touch has never been your thing. "Should have looked before I opened the door... shit, is that-? Sorry again!"

Moving past him, you run out to the crosswalk, stopping abruptly when the hand pops up. Down the road is the bus you need to catch, and you know the food truck parked beside you is blocking you from view. Sticking your arm out isn't an option like usual, risking being hit by a turning car if you do. The stop is empty save for a man facing away from you. As soon as your eyes lock onto him, his face turns to yours like he could feel your stare.

The side of his face is all scratched up and you notice blood dripping from his bruised nose down his split, chapped lips. His skin is pale, bordering blue with veins visible underneath. You can't tear your eyes away, not even when you're prompted to walk or when the hand starts flashing again. The man's mouth is moving, but you can't hear from where you are. Vehicles are rushing past you, wind in your hair, and you finally tear your eyes away when the bus you were supposed to take drives past the stop.

When you look away from the bus, now fading in the distance, the man is gone... but the bus never stopped to pick him up.

Having only you and Changbin working in the shop full time often has you both forgetting what normal work hours are, and soon enough it's nearly midnight.

"Holy shit, Bin," you rub your bleary eyes, taking another look at the time on your phone. "We have to stop. Go to bed."

"I'm almost done..." he drags the last word, carefully placing a few more blue flowers into a bouquet before standing back to marvel at his creation. "This bride is going to be so happy!"

"It's beautiful, but Bin, let's go." You head to the door and wave goodbye. "Lock up behind me, and promise you're heading up after I leave? We don't need a repeat of Sunday."

"Hey, to be fair, I thought we'd be closed," he laughs. "Not my fault you decided to show up on your birthday only to see me drooling all over the stem cuttings."

You give a light punch in his arm, laughing with him at the image conjured in your head of him hunched over the table in the back. He'd stayed up all night finishing a last minute request, not even realizing he fell asleep until you woke him up that morning. The flowers had wilted enough overnight to be deemed unsellable, having to remake each bouquet and wreath in that order. It was terrible.

You're about to say goodbye again when your phone rings in your hand; unknown number. Putting it on speaker, you sigh loudly.

"This is what I'm talking about," you whisper to Changbin, hand hovering over the microphone. Rolling your eyes, you move it away. "Who is this and what do you want? Seriously, this is getting annoying quick."

Like before, all you can hear is heavy breathing, although it's much louder this time like whoever is on the other end has the phone held up to their ear. It doesn't take long for them to hang up again.

"Block the number," Changbin shifts uncomfortably, hands on his hips. "That's creepy."

Taking his advice, you enter your call logs, but there's no sign of of anyone calling you just now. In fact, the only log is from when Changbin called about the new clients. There's nothing from before that either.

"Weird," you mumble, pocketing the device. "Okay, well. Goodnight."

"Y/n," Changbin grabs your arm lightly as you move through the doorway. "Stay safe, please."

"When don't I?" You give a weak smile, trying to be reassuring. "I'll be fine. Now go! I better find you somewhat well rested tomorrow morning."

You take the last bus of the night going your direction, kicking your shoes off as soon as you enter your house. It's a small, but cute and cozy bungalow you started renting not too long ago, having saved up from the flower shop. Business is good, and you're content with how your life is going at them moment. Before, when you were younger, you imagined a life on the go. Busy, busy, busy, lots of travelling for work and nonstop action. But then Changbin offered you a job and you never looked back, enjoying the lack of chaos you once yearned for.

Dim lights, fuzzy blankets; it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep with your lamp still on. Now you find yourself standing on a bridge you don't recognize, the air still, not a sound to be heard. Looking over the edge, you're met with a busy highway, but the traffic is absolutely silent. Dream logic always messed you up, especially when you finally realize you're in a dream. You haven't had a lucid dream for a long time, but you were certain that's what this is. A long day mixed with extreme exhaustion and a hint of stress? Definitely could have concocted this.

Looking down each side of the bridge, you spot a boy leaning over the edge further down. You try to call out, but find you have no voice. As you get closer, you notice something- he's the same guy you saw at the bus stop earlier that day. He's wearing the same clothes, a tattered blue sweater over a white shirt that peaks out from the bottom and black jeans. Dried blood cakes his face and hair, especially matted in the back, kind of like he hit his head really bad. One leg swings over the edge of the railing and you speed up, realizing what he's going to do as the other leg joins. You still can't yell for him, can't talk him off the edge or cry for help. All you can do is watch as he pushes off, the air breaking with the sound of glass crunching, a crash, and a car horn honking loudly.

When you gain the courage to look over where he fell- no, jumped- there's nothing there. A light breeze moves your hair and you realize you can't hear the horn anymore, only crickets in the dark night. As you straighten back up, you can feel a presence behind you.

"That's not what happened," they whisper in your ear and you startle, turning around.

Before you can fully turn to face who whispered, you're grabbed and thrown over the same spot the boy jumped from. Now, you can scream. As you're falling in slow motion, you scream. As you reach out to save yourself, you scream. And as you hit the ground, you scream.

And then you wake up.

You wake up in a cold sweat, sitting upright and clutching your chest, trying to learn to breathe again. There's a pain in the back of your head, dull and aching, and your whole body feels sore and stiff. Beside you your phone flashes on and you barely register an incoming call before it declines. Picking up the device, you see there have been 3 missed calls since you fell asleep nearly an hour ago. Wait, only an hour? It felt so much longer.

Finger hovering over the phone icon, you're about to see if they left any voicemails when another call comes in. Unknown number- you almost hang up, but something compels you to answer again. Is it the mystery of it all? Getting to the bottom of the odd breathing, being unable to call back? Or just plain curiosity?

"Hello? Who is-"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you hear the sound of a man's voice on the other line, hoarse and distant. "Are you there?"

'Yeah, I just-"

"Hello?"

"Stop interrupting me-"

"Please, please be there," he sobs, followed by a wet cough. "It's so dark in here... and my head is pounding, I think I'm hurt."

"Listen, you need to call the emergency line, not a random number of someone you don't know," you say quickly, starting to panic at the sudden silence. "Hello?"

"I think... I think im dead."

Nothing. The line does dead after he's uttered those final words, leaving you to stare at your wall in the dark with your phone still held up to your ear. Slowly, you put the device in your lap and reach over to flick the switch on your lamp, dim lighting filling the room. There's a faint ringing in your ears, and you notice the pain from when you woke is gone. Your legs are jelly when you stand, a hand against the wall to brace yourself as your vision blurs for a moment. Once it's back to normal, you move toward your bedroom door and exit, heading to the bathroom down the hall.

Slipping out of your pajamas, you turn the shower on as hot as you can bear, steam filling the room. Contact with the water makes you hiss, adjusting to the sudden change in temperature as you let it flow over your body from head to toe. It's nice, warm and reassuring. When you're satisfied with the comfort provided by the near boiling water, you step out and wrap a dark green towel around yourself. With the window closed, your mirror has fogged up entirely. You dry your body facing away from the mirror, fully intending to wipe it down after yourself, but when you turn back around you're met with a message written in the condensation.

Help me.

To say you're freaked out is a severe understatement, choosing to wipe the words away with your towel and ignore it until further notice. As you take the fabric away from the reflective surface, you choke back a scream, flipping around to find nothing there. Just a second ago, you saw a man standing behind you in the mirror, but there's only empty space. You're almost scared to turn back, forcing your eyes up, but there's nobody in the mirror now either. The only logical explanation you can find for this is that it's late, you're tired, you're seeing things. Go back to bed, go back to sleep. Everything will be back to normal in the morning.

Walking back to your room, you don't notice the other person in each reflection you pass. He's beside you as you leave the bathroom, when you enter your bedroom and get back under your blankets. Your bed provides a warm and safe feeling of comfort from the weird day you've had, leaning over to flick the lamp off. As soon as you do, the room lights up again as your phone gets a text notification.

~

notes ~ first chapter woooo!!! so excited to share this one with u guys :3

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800 @dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

Arriving at the apartment building doesn't take long once you retrieve your car from the flower shop, looking up at the desolate building with unease as you step out of the vehicle. There isn't much to say about the bleak apartments, nearly empty and sure to be closed down in the near future by the looks of it. No one is in the lobby as you walk in and buzz for Minho.

"Password?" You hear him say through the speaker.

"Do we really have to do that? You know it's me," You groan, but he stays silent. "Cheeks."

Cheeks, an odd word to choose for a password, but it's Minho, so you try not to question it too much. He lets you in, and you opt to take the stairs given that one elevator is out of service and the other's doors are slightly cracked open despite not being in use. It's a long trudge up the stairs, all the way to level fourteen, but you make it up nonetheless, panting and taking a moment to catch your breath before knocking on the door. Minho is quick to open it and drag you inside.

The apartment is empty, save for a plain wooden table with two chairs on either side of the circular shape. Takeout bags sit on the kitchen counter, some food already out to be served on paper plates. Minho gestures for you to sit down as he opens the rest and piles food onto the plates, setting one down in front of you and the other on his side of the table, walking back to pour some water.

"This is one of the apartments Jisung and I used while we were undercover." You take note of how he openly says Jisung this time, not 'Detective Han'. "We had our own so as to not raise suspicion, but used this one to connect and discuss our findings in the investigation on the killings going on. The last night here, we were sure we had enough evidence to send out and blow their cover, but then Jisung went missing, and everything went to shit."

As Minho talks, something to your right catches your eye and your hand stops midair, food halfway to your mouth as it hangs open. You can see a slightly younger Minho pacing around, the previously empty apartment decorated in more takeout containers and a large bulletin board, red string and photos covering the majority of it. Minho has his hands in his hair as he rambles and paces, another man standing at the board biting his thumb, trying to focus both on Minho's words and the images in front of him. He has mousy brown hair, long bangs covering part of his face, and is around the same height as Minho.

Eventually, younger Minho stops pacing, standing next to Jisung with furrowed eyebrows and an expression of disbelief. You can't hear what they're saying, only able to hear present-day Minho explaining the situation they were in; how Han had offered to go alone to secure one last piece of information that would really tie everything together, even if it was risky. Minho tried to stop him, and you see him place a hand on Han's shoulder, turning his body toward Minho. After what looks like a short argument, Han places his hands on Minho's shoulders and says something, Minho looking down at his feet.

"He said he'd be okay," Minho talks, voice low, and you finally tear your eyes away from the scene to look at him, food long forgotten by both of you. "He didn't return that night like he said he would, or the next day, or the one after that. Our boss had me wait a whole week until he allowed me to investigate, but I couldn't wait that long. After the third day, I went back and found the place completely empty, except for two men with orders to kill me on sight. Luckily, they were stupid and taunted me first, wasting time."

Before younger Minho and Jisung disappear, you sense a third presence behind the door and spot the light changing underneath, as if someone had just stepped in front of it from the outside. They're obviously eavesdropping, but with the way the two men in the apartment are facing, it goes unnoticed. Your own eyebrows mimic younger Minho's as they furrow deeply, biting your lip in thought as you turn to face him present day.

"Did you know you were followed?" The look on Minho's face answers for you, the way he slowly places his utensils down. "As you were explaining, I could see it playing out, but there was someone else at the door listening in."

"Figures," Minho scoffs, voice rough and lips pursed as he turns away from you with crossed arms.

"What did you do to the men who took him?" You ask cautiously, leaning forward. Both of your food has been forgotten, growing cold as the silence stretches on between you. "Minho, what did you do?"

"Bad things," Minho murmurs, shaking his head and looking down where his feet are firmly planted on the carpeted floor. "Things I'm not proud of, but would do again if it meant finding Jisung. Only one man left that building that day, and you're looking at him."

You nod in understanding, leaning back in your chair with a slight sick feeling. Although you knew what kind of work Minho did, hearing the confirmation that he has, in fact, killed someone makes your hair stand up.

As it's getting late, you both decide to call it a night and investigate the storefront in the morning. In all honesty, you don't know what to expect, or what you'll get out of this. There's no way the spirits of those men will want to help, and what do they get in return? It's not like you can bring them back... can you? You shiver at the thought; even if you could, those aren't the type of people you'd want to use that kind of special power on.

Minho takes the couch, not leaving room for argument as he lies down with his boots now untied by the end. You enter the bedroom, taking in the bare walls and lack of life. It's stale, uncomfortable, but it'll do for just one night.

-

The storefront looks like it hasn't been touched in years, and you suppose it really hasn't been since the investigation into Jisung's disappearance. Minho approaches first and jiggles the doorknob, which is obviously locked. There's a big 'For Lease' sign sitting in the window collecting dust, the lettering a faded blue. It's hard to see inside, the thick layer of dirt and grime on the glass windows obscuring your view when you try and look. Wiping it does nothing, most of the grit on the inside, but you do manage to spot a few upturned chairs near the front.

Rounding the building and walking down the alleyway, Minho brings you to a door at the side. When it doesn't open, he gestures for you to stand back. He swiftly kicks the wood, and it doesn't stand a chance, almost immediately splintering off the hinges. As if it's nothing, Minho walks into the building, not waiting for your shock to wear off.

Just as you suspected, the inside is covered in dust, and you have to try hard not to sneeze as the particles tickle your nose and make it itch. You've entered right at the back of the store, making your way into the very back. The layout kind of reminds you of the flower shop. Minho makes a beeline to the back corner of the small room you've entered and you spot a groove in the floor.

"Trap door?" You ask, although it's obvious.

Minho doesn't reply. Instead, he runs his hands over the uneven ground until he finds a spot to dig his finger underneath and pull it up, revealing a cement staircase. A chill runs down your spine, and you swear you could hear crying right as he opened it up. Hesitantly, you take a step forward, letting Minho lead the way. Even he's cautious as he walks down, and you don't have to ask to know why. This place must bring back bad memories, ones you'd never want to recall. Jisung must have been special.

The basement air is cold and damp as you descend, unwelcoming in every sense of the word. A headache is already forming on your temples from what you suspect is from the sheer amount of lost souls trapped here, forever unable to find peace. It hurts that you can't help them all; you're here for a different purpose. Not many of the spirits show their faces to you, but some linger around the dark, brick walls. There's a single light hanging from the ceiling casting a dim yellow glow, a dilapidated chair directly underneath. A shiver goes down your spine.

"Lee Minho." You hear a voice scoff, head whipping toward the noise. There's a gruff, muscular man leaning against the wall by the stairs, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see you here again."

Minho doesn't reply, oblivious to the man trying to communicate. This irks the man clearly, his face scrunching up in frustration as Minho appears to ignore him. Kicking off the wall, he goes to approach Minho, but sees you looking at him and stops.

"What's his problem?" The man nods to Minho.

"He can't see or hear you." At your voice, Minho turns, his eyes flickering between you and where you're standing. "Only I can."

"They're here?" Minho hurries over to you, glaring at the spot you're eyes are.

"Just one... he has a tattoo of a lotus flower on his forearm if that helps." You state, nodding at he man.

"He was the last one." Minho says, disdain in his voice.

In this position, you know there isn't much you can do. How are you supposed to force information out of a potentially violent spirit? You can't kill him twice...

Or, wait...

Jeongin, you think, closing your eyes and focusing your energy on him. You can almost feel the connection between you, a bright line reaching out to him. Jeongin, help me.

It's only a matter of seconds until you feel a soft breeze move strands of your hair into your face, and you open your eyes to see Jeongin. He's looking down at you with a soft expression, relieved to see you're okay. When he looks to the man, his eyes narrow.

"Who are you?" The man suddenly looks uneasy, crossing his arms, but Jeongin just shakes his head.

"Not important. Now, you're going to tell us where Han Jisung is," Jeongin demands.

The man barks out a laugh. "Like hell I'm gonna do that."

"I have an idea." You whisper to Jeongin, turning your body so the man can't hear you as well. "Use my energy to force the answers out of hi-"

"Are you kidding me? No way!" Jeongin's eyes widen, unable to believe you're seriously suggesting that. "Do you understand what that could do to you?"

"Yes, and I'm willing to take the risk! Otherwise, I wouldn't be asking you." You cross your arms now, holding your ground. "Just do it. Please."

Jeongin searches your eyes, seeing the certainty in them, and sighs. He takes a hold of your hand, closing his eyes to focus on your connection, similar to what you did earlier. After a moment, he opens them again, and the man is giving you both an amused look. Before he can speak, his mouth open to say something, he's flying backward into the chair. The man's eyes are big with shock, chains wrapping his wrists and legs in place, an additional one forming around his chest. You don't know what's going on, only that you feel dizzy.

"Tell us where he is." Jeongin steps closer, and you do too on instinct. Each step toward the center of the room feels like you're walking through quicksand; your head is pounding with each sluggish movement. "Now."

Chains rustle, and your vision swims as they seem to tighten around the man. How Jeongin is doing this is beyond you, but the scare tactic seems to be working.

"Warehouse on Twilight! He's- we brought him there after finding out who he was!" The man's voice is high with panic, still fighting against the confines of the chair. "Now let me go!"

With a thud, the chair returns back to it's ruined state, and the spirit of the man is released. Jeongin lets go of your arm the same moment, and the only thing keeping you from hitting the floor are Minhos arms as he catches you. Before you think you'll pass out, you relay the information to Minho.

Keeping an arm around you, the two of you hurry back out to Minho's car. Jeongin is long gone, and a part of you feels guilty for making him use you like that. The last thing Jeongin wants to do is take your energy, and you practically forced him to.

"Stop thinking like that," Minho says sharply, leaning back as he exits the parking lot. "I can see it in your face. It's not your fault, and you did what was necessary."

"It doesn't feel right-"

"It never does." Minho sighs. "It never does."

After that, it doesn't take long for the two of you to get to the warehouse as Minho is practically speeding the whole way, even with it being across the city. Like the storefront, it's old and abandoned. The gate is broken, allowing easy access inside, and there's a door hanging off the hinges; someone has clearly broken in recently, probably to stay the night.

Dust assaults your senses once again as you enter the building. The inside is completely empty, high ceilings with small windows to allow light. On the other end is a door with a metal staircase leading up to it, and you assume it used to go to an office or breakroom. Minho curses at the space, running a hand through his hair as he walks further in. You can't imagine how disappointed he must be, knowing this doesn't help him at all in finding Jisung.

"Dammit..." Minho turns, exhaustion and defeat seeping into his features. "Let's just go. This place offers nothing."

You're about to agree, but look back into the dim room once more. Something by the stairs catches your eye.

"Minho, wait."

Walking closer, you make out the shape of a person descending the steps, and you immediately recognize him as the man you're looking for. Han Jisung stands at the bottom of he staircase, looking out to you with a sad look on his face, and your heart sinks. Minho steps beside you, shrugging.

"What?" He looks between you and the stairs, squinting. "There's nothing, let's go. We've wasted enough time."

As he goes to walk away, you grab his wrist, making him jolt back a bit. You let go with an apologetic expression, retracting your hand back to your body. Minho looks briefly offended, but then sees the mixed emotions on your face.

"He's here..." You say quietly, glancing back to the stairs. "I think he has something to say to you."

"No." Minho's voice comes out as a small gasp, and he shakes his head. "No, Y/n, no. That means- he can't be-"

"I'm sorry," You whisper, gently placing a hand on his arm. "I can help you communicate."

Minho looks away, bringing a hand to his mouth as he tries to collect himself. A few moments later, he nods. You both head to the stairs where Jisung has been waiting patiently.

There's not a single scratch on him, no sign of hurt at all, and it's strange. His hair is well groomed, and his clothes aren't wrinkled. Jisung can't keep his eyes off Minho as you approach, and you'd swear he's alive if it weren't for the way his hands don't quite touch the railing. He descends slowly until he's eye level with Minho, but Minho's eyes are still stuck on the stairs.

"He's right in front of you," You whisper, as though talking too loud will shatter the fragility in the air.

"Jisung?" Minho's eyes flicker down, and you see Jisung inhale as their eyes meet. There's a small, sad smile on his face.

"Can you hear me?" Jisung looks at you for a brief moment, then back to Minho, his smile faltering; you nod. "Tell him I'm okay, please."

"He says he's okay." You repeat, voice wavering.

"They did bad things to me here," Jisungs voice steels. "Tortured me for information, but I didn't tell them anything. It was too much in the end."

Hearing his story has your heart breaking for him, your eyes watering despite not knowing the man in front of you. Jisung looks down at his feet as you tell Minho what he's said.

Jisung's eyes find Minho again, his voice quieter now. "I tried to look after you. I'm sorry for what happened."

There's movement, his hand reaching to grasp Minho's. You hear Minho suck in a breath and look up to see his wide, blinking eyes staring back at Jisung, almost like-

"I can see you." Minho says bluntly, and Jisung laughs lightly, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the warehouse. "Why can I see you now?"

"Obviously, I missed you so much I brought you to the afterlife with one touch." Jisung teases, giving you a warm glimpse into their dynamic as Minho scoffs. Then, Jisung's smile begins to fade. "I think... I think the universe knows what time it is."

"What do you mean?" Minho says, although you know he knows by the expression on his face, the way he can't stop blinking.

"You know what I mean," Jisung says softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You found me. You got closure."

"I can't-" Minho shakes his head. "Jisung, don't-"

"Shh," Jisung brings his free hand up to rest on Minhos shoulder. "We'll see each other again, hopefully not for a long time. I've seen the way you've been these past few years, the downward spiral you've been slowly going down. I want you to live, Min, I want you to fall in love with life again. I need you to."

Minho's throat bobs, then he's pulling Jisung into a hug. They stay like that for a few minutes, and you look away, feeling the moment is too private for you to be witnessing. Some words are whispered, ones you don't catch, then there's a sniffle and someone clearing their throat.

"Let's go." Minho is already turned around by the time your eyes find him again, already walking toward the exit. When you look toward the staircase, there's nothing but the lingering scent of something sweet.

-

notes ~ i am SO SO sorry it's taken so long for a new chapter to come out 😭 i hope you guys still like it 😥 if you're on the taglist and have changed ur user, pls lmk so i can update it!!

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800 @dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken @lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12 @sillyhal @rensahazard

"There," Jeongin directs you to a house on your right. It's a modest house with dark blue paneling and a neat front yard. As you pull up to the curb, you catch a glimpse of a woman ushering two children back inside, abandoning a soccer ball by the door.

"Cute. You grew up here?" You ask, parking the car.

"Yeah, but like everything else I don't remember much," Jeongin leans forward in his seat to get a better look at the house. "I don't think it was always blue though, that's new. And they cut a tree down from other there," He points to one corner of the yard and you see a short stump. "Other than that, nothing."

"So why are we here then?" You take your hands off the wheel and place them in your lap. "There's gotta be some kind of emotional connection to this place, something important that happened."

"Isn't growing up there exactly that?"

"Well, yeah, but take the other memories into consideration," You say and turn your body to face Jeongin. "That park, anything could have happened there, but your brain decided the most important thing was meeting Hyunjin. Then again at the lake, the first night of having your own car and celebrating that. Even then you mentioned another event that took place there, the party, so why not that? So many things probably happened at that lake just like in this home, but we're here for a specific memory."

"Wow, you've really put thought into this." The corner of Jeongin's mouth quirks up as he faces you. "Maybe you should be a detective."

"I'll stick to the flower shop," You laugh.

For a while it's like this, the two of you chatting in the car waiting for something to happen. Morning turns to noon to late afternoon before anything happens, the sun hanging low in the sky. You point it out to Jeongin when you see it; two little boys have exited a pale yellow house and are making their way down the sidewalk in your direction. Stepping out into the sticky heat of late summer, you and Jeongin follow them all the way to the corner of the street before they stop.

They look to be about thirteen here, Hyunjin wrapping an arm around Jeongin's shoulders as they walk side by side. When they stop, his arm drops and they face each other. Hyunjin is slightly taller than Jeongin and has already started killing his hair with bleach, fiddling with the edge of the yellow tank top he's wearing. Jeongin sighs and crosses his arms with a frown on his face, Hyunjin matching the mood with a pout.

"So this is it?" Hyunjin asks, voice quiet.

"Yeah," Jeongin replies. "I guess so."

"You're leaving me."

"I have to."

"Come live with me," Hyunjin jokes. "Then you won't have to. Convince your parents by saying you don't want to switch schools or something."

"You know I can't do that," Jeongin looks away uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't make you live with me," Hyunjin's head drops. "With him."

"You could come with me-"

"No, I can't, you know that," Hyunjin crosses his arms. "It's stupid you're moving right out of our district, you should still be allowed to stay." He kicks a rock with the toe of his shoe, looking away embarrassed. "Don't make a new best friend."

"What?" Jeongin almost looks offended. "I could never! You know you'll be my best friend for life, always, even if I died! My ghost would haunt your ass."

Present-day Jeongin snorts at this.

With a pinky promise, you watch the two boys make a pact to stay close friends no matter what happens between them. They'll star in their first movie together side by side, they'll always support each other; they'll do everything together and never leave. A car pulls up and honks and Hyunjin waves goodbye to Jeongin, entering the vehicle. As it drives away, Hyunjin is looking out with fingertips barely touching the glass. Little Jeongin is gone, leaving you in silence.

"You know, I've been wondering why this neighbourhood has felt so familiar," You say quietly. "My mother was buried just down the road."

The car is silent, Jeongin placing his hand right next to yours on the compartment, just a hair away. Even with him not touching you directly, you can feel his energy coming off on you. It's different, the way you can feel him without feeling drained; it almost makes you want to take the risk and extend your pinky, closing the distance between you. When you look at him, the setting sun has created a warm glow around him, but accentuating his ghostly-ness. This is both the most alive and dead you've seen him, pale skin and eye bags, orange glow and soft eyes.

You start the car, fully intent on driving home, but your body seems to direct the vehicle the opposite way. As you pass the cemetery you slow down, making a full stop right outside the entrance. In the corner of your eye, you can see Jeongin looking at you, but you can't face him. This is big; walking into this place could change so many things for you, and you don't even know where you'd start with your mom. You've never met her, what if she doesn't recognize you? What if she's not there? What if-

"Y/n, stop thinking so much," Jeongin teases lightly, trying to bring up the mood. "We don't have to go today, or at all even."

"I want to," You finally look at him. "But there's so much I don't know about her and that she doesn't know about me. This could change everything I've ever thought about her."

"Don't you want to know who she was? Not who you think she is?" He asks.

Yes, of course you do. Without answering, you step out of the car and brace yourself for the wind; it's picked up a lot since leaving. Leaves blow off the trees that line the pathway in, some getting caught in your hair as you walk. The air is crisp and cold, goosebumps forming on your arms and the back of your neck. Whether that's actually from the coolness or from the atmosphere, you don't know for sure.

In your peripheral vision, you spot the odd spirit here and there. Most are lingering by graves, presumably their own, wandering back and forth, or sitting on the stone benches sprinkled around. One reaches out for you as you pass a bench, her frail, wrinkled fingers grazing your wrist, but Jeongin shifts over and gently pushes her away. She simply curls into herself, and you think you can hear crying as you get further away; your skin burns where she touched you.

"Up there." You point to a large structure with named boxes in straight lines. Your mother was cremated, but still laid to rest with the rest of her family. Underneath her box are two empty ones and a man's name. Before you can read the name, someone is calling out for you from behind.

Turning around, you spot a young woman not much older than you crouched down by a bush, a bright flower in her hand. She drops the flower, shock written all over her face and tears welling in her eyes. Standing up straight, she eagerly walks toward you, but Jeongin stands in her way as a warning.

"Sorry, I'm not used to the living," She laughs, leaning to the side so you can see her; Jeongin's back is obscuring most of your sight.

"That's okay," You squeak, stepping out from Jeongin. You're a lot more nervous seeing her now, especially noticing just how alike you look. "I'm-"

"Y/n," She exhales. "Don't think I'd recognize my own daughter? C'mon. But..." Her eyebrows furrow, looking around as if someone's missing. "Your brother, where is he?"

Brother?

You stare at her, mouth agape and unable to form words. Glancing back to the stone behind you, it dawns on you that there are two empty boxes underneath your mother, not one. Which means...

"I have a brother?"

"You-" Her eyebrows somehow knit together further, the flower clutched so tightly in her palm you doubt any petals could be salvaged. "You didn't know? How do you not know? Your father-"

"I'm adopted," You admit shyly, avoiding her eyes, but you can hear her scoff.

"That motherfucker."

Jeongin snorts and whispers, "Definitely related."

Your mother opens her mouth to speak again, but she's stopped short when something catches her attention to the side. When you follow her sight, you can see a man in the far distance staring her down. Suddenly, the air is tight with tension and fear, like all the spirits around you are wary of him. He doesn't come closer, but he raises something sharp and you finally recognize him as the man in the boat. The bottle isn't at his neck this time, but rather pointed at your mother. His head is tilted in a sinister way, only part of his face visible from behind his extended hand, but his features are both sharp and soft at the same time.

"We should get out of here," Jeongin says, his own voice tight with anxiety.

"But-" You try to protest.

"No, he's right honey," Your mother spares a glance toward you. "You need to leave, just promise me- promise me you'll find your brother?"

"I-I promise."

Wasting no time, Jeongin encourages you in front of him without tearing his eyes away from the man. The further you go, the blurrier he becomes, and soon enough the man is completely out of sight. Who is he, and why were all those ghosts so scared?

Back in the car, you take a chance to breathe before starting it up. With shaky hands, you turn on the ignition and prepare to drive away, but something bangs on your car window loudly, causing you to jump, almost enough to hit your head. You yelp when you see the man outside, the closest he's been to you since the first sighting. There's a distinctive mole under one of his narrowed eyes, his slender fingers pressed up against the window. Without thinking twice, you speed off and don't stop until you're outside of your home.

Jeongin is trying to speak to you, but you're dizzy and can't make out any words he's saying, the world around you spinning like crazy. A raging headache is beginning to form behind your eyes, placing your head between your legs and trying to control yourself. Anxiety threatens to sweep you under its strong waves, but with every breath you can feel yourself settling down. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three...

"I need to contact Minho," You say, voice weak.

"Let's get you inside first." Jeongin exits, rounding the front of your car and opening your door. "Can you stand?"

"I don't know," You admit. "But if you touch me, especially when I'm already feeling like shit..."

"I know," Jeongin sighs, frustrated.

Placing one hand on the open door and the other on your seat, you push up and cling to the vehicle, a wave of nausea hitting you. Once it passes, you take a step away and allow Jeongin to close the car door. You wonder what this looks like to others; can they see the actions he makes, or does it appear different to them? Stumbling to your front door, you enter quickly, feeling uneasy so exposed outside.

The warmth of your house hits you like a weighted blanket, sleepiness overtaking you making it hard to undress. Trudging upstairs, you half expect Jeongin to be gone when you enter your room, but he's still watching over you. Walking over to your closet, you throw the first comfy clothes you see onto your bed and flop down. It's too much to move- your whole body feels as though there's a ton of bricks weighing you down. With sluggish eyes, you see Jeongin looking out the window to the right of your bed, opening it just a crack to let some cool air in. The breeze prickles at your skin, but it's nice.

"Jeongin."

"Yeah?" He turns his head toward your sleepy figure.

"Can we take a risk?" You mumble, gauging his reaction. His eyebrows raise and he looks down, stretching away from the window.

"What kind of risk?" He asks, trying to keep his voice light.

"Help me get dressed," You say, almost wanting to cry from your exhaustion. "I'm so fucking tired."

Rolling onto your back with your head still in his direction, you watch him consider his options. Slowly, he makes his way toward you and picks up the sweatshirt you abandoned at the bottom of your bed. Hesitantly, the tips of his fingers meet your upper arm. Nothing happens, no sick feelings or passing out; only you and him and the surprising warmth of his touch. When he realizes you're okay, he continues to lift you up into a sitting position, teasing you for your groans. Lifting your shirt gently, he looks away red in the face and feels for the sweatshirt, finding it close by and bringing it over your head. Next, he helps you out of your jeans and slips the matching sweatpants up your legs, his hands pausing at your hips.

He's holding his breath, and you're more awake than ever as you make eye contact with him. You realize the position you're in with him overtop of you, his face oddly close to yours, enough for your breath to mingle. His eyes dart down your face, back up to your eyes, and away from you shyly. Taking his face in your hands, you thumb his cheekbones and run your fingers down his jawline. Touching someone has never felt so natural for you, so real and safe. Either your eyes are deceiving you, or he's getting closer and closer and-

Your phone buzzes. "Minho."

notes ~ this may or may not be unedited for the most part, so apologies for any mistakes i am simply too eepy

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

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@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

The bell by the door rings, signaling somebody entering the store and you put your phone down. An elderly lady is walking around looking at the different displays you have out to buy, most of which were created out of boredom between client orders. She's looking at a bouquet of pink and purple roses wrapped tightly in a white lace. You made that two days ago for a baby shower but made one too many, putting the extra out this morning after the order was picked up. The woman picks up the bouquet and smiles wide, looking up at you from where she's standing away from the counter.

"These are beautiful," she says, her voice frail.

"Thank you," you say, standing up straight. Compliments always give you a boost of confidence. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Flowers for my daughter's wedding, it's tomorrow and her florist fell through," she shakes her head, bringing the flowers to the front. "Oh, she's been waiting for this day ever since she was a little girl. I'm glad I get to see her married before... well, she's my last grandchild to be wed, you see."

"Exciting! You must be a pretty great grandmother coming here to get her new flowers," you smile. "Normally we don't do this, but I can make a personal arrangement if you'd like and have it done to be picked up by tonight-"

"No, no, dear," she declines. "These will be just perfect."

They're a bit wilted at the edges, but you don't argue with her. Instead, you ring up the price and let her pay. When her card payment doesn't go through for the third time, you offer to pay for her.

"I don't know why it's not working," she sighs. "Can you read the date for me? It shouldn't expire for another month..."

"Of course," you take the card from her and your face pales. "U-um, ma'am, this has been expired for four years."

"Four years?" The woman shakes her head. "That's... that's..."

When you look up from the card, you barely hold in a gasp at the change in the woman's appearance. The entire right side of her face is skeletal, and the flesh still on her bones is rotted and sunken in. She reaches out with a shaky hand and takes her card back from you, your fingers brushing and you're temporarily blinded. You find yourself looking up at her from behind the counter, your vision blurry. When did you hit the floor?

"Oh, dear," the woman joins you behind the counter, a hand snaking up your neck and jaw. "I-I never saw my granddaughter's wedding. What a shame..."

A wave of dizziness hits you, your sight blurring as her other hand comes up onto the other side of your face. Her hands travel up and into your hair, smoothing it down and away from your face. The way she's touching you is gentle, but dangerous. You can feel your heartbeat slowing and your breaths getting lighter and lighter the longer her skin is making contact with yours. Eyelids fluttering shut, you let the woman take your head into her lap, shushing you, reassuring you maybe, but you can't make out her words any longer. Her ghostly touch feels more solid by the second.

Right as you're about to let sleep take you, she's being ripped off of you and your head hits the ground, but it doesn't register. You hear shouting, open your eyes to see two shapes arguing, one keeping the other away from your body. Slowly, you can feel yourself regaining enough strength to sit up against the wall. Placing your head in your hands, you groan at the sharp pain radiating from your temples to the back of your skull.

"Are you okay?" You recognize Jeongin's voice. "Y/n, answer me."

"S-sure," you exhale, rubbing your eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. What the fuck was that?"

"Like I said, other spirits are catching on, even ones who dont know they're dead yet," Jeongin begins to explain. "Now that they know you can communicate with us, they're not going to stop trying to get to you."

"But why?" You shake your head.

"Energy- they want it, crave it," he sits with his back against the counter across from you. "Didn't you feel it?"

"Is that what that was?" He nods. "Oh... what about you?"

"Some of us are less desperate. Some just want to finish what they're here for, whatever that may be." He shrugs. "Enough about that. Have you learned anything else?" When you don't answer, he sighs. "You literally have one job."

Your head jumps up at this and you're about to tell him your one job is the flower shop, not helping him, but you see he's looking away from you trying not to laugh. Unable to hold back, a small giggle leaves your lips and his eyes find yours. Soon, you're both laughing and you don't even notice the way your headache has disappeared. All you can focus on is the sound of him, the way his eyes turn into crescent moons as his smile grows wider and wider. If he weren't dead, you'd take this opportunity to ask him out. What?

"I'll have you know I did try contacting a private investigator, but he hasn't been much help," you admit and show him the texts.

"He seems enthusiastic about this," Jeongin teases and you roll your eyes. "I might have something, not sure if it's helpful yet though. There's this lake outside of the city-"

"Lake Haven?" You ask and he nods, opening his mouth. "I used to go there all the time as a kid! I haven't been back in years."

"Eager to go back at all?" He asks. "Cause I think there's something out there, but like everything else, it's blank. It might be similar to the playground. Going there might unlock something?"

"It's worth a shot," you say with a shrug.

An hour goes by and you're pulling into a narrow dirt road leading to a slew of private cottages. Jeongin points to one that looks as dead as him, and you turn into the driveway. It's an older house with a sign on the door indicating it's closed for upcoming renovations, but there don't seem to be any workers at the moment. Hesitantly, you open your car door and make your way to the front of the house.

It's small and simple compared to the rest of the cottages, dust greeting you as you open the creaky door. Jeongin moves past you and takes in your surroundings, taking a deep breath and you watch his shoulders untense. If he's remembering anything already, he's not sharing, but watching him tells you enough. There's a direct pathway to glass double doors on the other side and he stops, fingers trailing over the kitchen island next to him. When his hand stops, you notice a chunk of faux marble missing from the edge. Jeongin's smile falters slightly, removing his hand and examining the broken island.

"I remember this- this is from a party Hyunjin threw here without his dad knowing," Jeongin places a hand on each side of the marble and closes his eyes, hanging his head between his arms. "Stupid."

"Is that why we're here?" You ask, hand hovering above his shoulder. Before you can touch him, he moves away.

"No," Jeongin opens the back door. "No, it's not. Out here, ladies first."

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as you walk through the exit. The doors open up to a small yard with a path leading down to the shore, a wooden dock waiting at the end with a dirty boat for fishing. Two rods are sitting on the seat with a tackle box by the nose, a splash of what looks like red paint on the top handle. There are a few chairs folded up and leaning against the porch you just walked off of, Jeongin grabbing two of them for you to sit on.

Quiet; it's quiet out here at the lake. You don't recognize this part and assume you must have stayed on the other side. This area is more secluded, trees and bushes lining the edges of the water with only small rocky shores peaking out for people to park their boats and get in the water. A bird sings somewhere to your far left, and as you turn your head you catch a glimpse of a boy standing on the bottom step of the porch, causing you to jump. Fists clenching with anxiety, you recognize the blonde boy- Hyunjin. He's got orange swim shorts on and a loose white tank top, dark roots starting to show on his scalp. His expression is hard to read, somehow blank and full of emotion, but it quickly changes as another boy comes bounding down the steps and down the dock, a smile that reaches his eyes forming.

Hyunjin is jogging down the sandy path between wooden structures, grabbing the wrist of the other boy who you see is Jeongin. Time has passed since the last memory; they're almost fully grown here, probably older teenagers. Jeongin is pulling his wrist away, but he's laughing, and so is Hyunjin as he forces the boy closer to him. He's locked his arms around Jeongin tightly, swaying them side to side as the younger one tries to escape his grip. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous look on Jeongin's face right before he throws them both over the edge of the dock and into the water, successfully breaking away from his captor.

"This is the day I got my first car," present-day Jeongin leans over to whisper in your ear, a small shiver going down your spine. "I wasn't supposed to drive this far, but Hyunjin suggested coming out here to celebrate since it would be empty this time of year. The water-"

"Jeongin!" Hyunjin screams, jumping back onto the dock. "It's freezing!"

"-was very cold." You laugh as Jeongin finishes his sentence with a breathy laugh to match yours.

"Come back or I'll pull you back in!" Younger Jeongin shouts, moving to float on his back.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't sound so sure about that," Jeongin floats closer to the dock, hand outstretched to wrap slender fingers around Hyunjin's ankle. "Test me."

Hyunjin replies by kicking water at him, which turns out to be a huge mistake. No hesitation, he's not so gently yanked into the lake, coming up with a gasp. After a moment of silence and a look of pure betrayal on Hyunjin's face, Jeongin splashes him again. This time, Hyunjin is prepared and swims out of the way. They continue to splash and fight and swim, laughter bubbling up through the air, and you find yourself unable to keep the smile off your face as you watch this moment of happiness between friends.

Looking over at Jeongin, you see a sad smile on his face. His eyes are focused on the two of them, and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his head. He must miss Hyunjin like crazy, and Hyunjin must miss him as well.

"We could tell him," you say softly, Jeongin's attention turning to you.

Up close, you notice details you haven't before; the sharpness of his cheekbones, his plump lips. He's very beautiful, he would have killed it in the world of acting.

"Tell him what? That you're talking to his dead best friend?" Jeongin shakes his head. "No way. You're out of your mind."

"Yeah but-" you cut yourself off.

Back out in the water, the boys are gone, but there's someone out there. It's hard to see from this distance, but you think you can see a man standing upright in a boat holding something sharp in his hand. You can feel Jeongin tense beside you, and you're not feeling any more comfortable. The man holds the object up to his throat, making eye contact with you the whole time as he slides it across his skin, red washing down under his shirt. You can't tear your eyes away as he collapses over the edge, disappearing under the water. The boat floats eerily by itself, a weird feeling washing over you.

"Who was that?" You ask, finally pulling your eyes back to Jeongin. "He seemed... like he knew us."

"I don't know," Jeongin replies.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, no ideas of who it could be. All you knew is that he was a ghost too, showing you how he died. There's a buzz in your pocket-

notes ~ who was that man 👀

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