Chapter Text
It started with a shattered mirror.
Jisung had the entire evening planned out to a T.
He finally got the courage to send those long text messages to his friends — the “letters” he typed out with shaky fingers while only half-lucid. He’d been composing those letters for days, maybe weeks , continuously entering and deleting words with his heart beating heavy in his chest. It had been a long time coming, yet somehow, that part was the worst of them all.
Sending the messages was like sealing the deal. It was ensuring there was no going back.
He dressed up nicely. Well, as nice as he could — meaning he wore his favorite hoodie and sweatpants. It was important to be comfortable, wasn’t it?
His apartment was clean. He’d scrubbed it meticulously the day before, almost as if trying to get rid of his own fingerprints and erase any evidence his apartment had ever been lived in. He still felt the ache in his muscles from the rigorous movements.
Now, it was time. Jisung never pictured doing this in his bedroom, so he chose the bathroom instead. He clutched his prescribed antidepressants in one hand, a full bottle of soju in the other; the very bottle Chan gifted him for his birthday a while ago. “You deserve to get drunk once in a while,” he’d said. “Just don’t go too far.”
Too far? Sorry, Chan. Maybe this was overdoing it.
He swung a leg over the edge of the bathtub, and then another, and he sat down.
Oddly, he was calm. He used to think he wouldn’t be able to go through with this; that he’d be too much of a coward. Now, a twisted part of his mind anticipated it instead. He wouldn’t want his efforts to go to waste.
There wasn’t much time left, not since those messages have already been sent. It was four in the morning, but Chan was an insomniac — he’d definitely see the texts first. He’d panic. He’d call Felix until he woke up, and then Changbin, and so on.
At least, Jisung hoped he would. He hoped his friends cared enough to panic.
His phone was left forgotten in the living room; even if someone was calling, he was unaware. He didn’t really care.
The soju tasted nice on Jisung’s tongue. Too strong, and slightly too sweet (peach flavored), but he hadn’t drunk it in a long time. His hands didn’t shake when he twisted the cap off his medicine, nor when he dumped them into his hand, nor when he dumped them into his mouth.
They were bitter and disgusting. He fought back the urge to throw up with a few large swings of the drink. The feeling of the medicine struggling to go past his throat made him shiver.
Sooner than he would’ve liked to admit, the bottle was empty and his eyes struggled to stay open.
Just when he finally thought it was over, he heard a deafening crash in the bathroom. It sounded like glass breaking with the force of something strong, like a hammer. The sound was so startling it made him jump, limbs flailing, embarrassingly exaggerated. It interrupted his every train of thought, like a record being scratched, or the music suddenly stopping in a movie.
What the fuck was that? His pulse jumped to an unhealthy number, he was pretty sure.
The sudden scare grounded him in an unexpected way. He became too conscious of the pills stuck in his throat; they were getting too much to bear. He thought of all those chemicals sitting in his stomach, of what he was doing to his own body.
Jisung leaned over the edge of the tub and threw up.
He felt like shit. His face was streaked with tears, more from the reflex of puking than anything else. His vision was blurry when he forced his eyes open, and surely enough, there were pieces of glass on the bathroom floor. His eyes traveled up, carefully, and the mirror above his sink was in complete shambles. In the midst of all those jagged, sharp lines of broken glass, Jisung saw a face — somebody he’d never seen before. After blinking rapidly a few times, they were gone.
Jisung wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard banging on his front door. Soon after, footsteps; strange, because he was sure he’d locked it. They must’ve kicked it down.
Paramedics rushed into the bathroom. He tried to tell them he was fine, that he threw up the pills already, but the inside of his mouth felt like cotton despite all the alcohol he drank. Both his head and stomach ached.
They lifted his body and put him on a stretcher. Jisung tried to slap their hands off, but it didn’t work. He figured he shouldn’t resist, or else they might bind him down or give him a sedative.
They ended up giving him one, in spite of his protests.
He passed out on the way to the hospital.
“Why did they sedate me?” Jisung asked. His gaze was fixated on the IV drip, the droplets of liquid disappearing into the tube and entering his bloodstream. Cleansing him from the inside. In the end, all he’d really done was get wasted. He felt embarrassed.
Chan sighed as he sat on the chair next to Jisung’s hospital bed. He moved in a way that gave off the impression his body was far too heavy for him to hold upright, and Jisung would’ve felt guilty if it wasn’t for the fact Chan always looked like that. Exhausted beyond belief, always accompanied by eye bags.
“They said you were giving them trouble,” Chan replied. “Scratching, slapping. Kicking.”
Jisung pouted. “Well, that’s dramatic. I only slapped once or twice.”
Chan didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes. He leaned forward in his chair.
“You can’t keep doing this, Jisung.”
“...What?”
“Hurting yourself,” Chan said. “I almost lost you tonight. What would I have done then? Why didn’t you talk to me? To Lixie?”
Jisung looked at the IV drip again. “I didn’t want to be a—”
“Burden?” Chan interrupted, grimly. “I’ve told you so many times, I’m always here. If I’m not, then Lix is. He’d be ruined if something happened to you, you know that.”
Jisung had been too selfish to think about that. He didn’t consider what leaving Felix would bring as its consequence; he didn’t want to consider it. There was a pit deep in his stomach, and the longer Jisung listened, the bigger it got. It might consume him whole.
“I’m sorry, hyung. I really am.”
“I’m sorry. For not being there for you.”
Jisung turned to look at him. “No, it’s not your fau–”
“I saw the broken mirror in your bathroom.”
“...I didn’t do that,” Jisung murmured.
Chan stared for a few long moments. “Jisung.”
“It really wasn’t me! I don’t know how that happened! What, do you think I cut myself on the glass?” Jisung put forward his arms and rotated them. “See? I have no new injuries. It wasn’t me.”
Chan frowned. “What happened there, then?”
“I don’t–”
The door burst open. Felix ran inside, his cheeks a puffy, blotchy red. Changbin trailed behind him, hair made messy by the wind, eyes wide and panicked. They were both out of breath.
The two of them relaxed in unison after settling their eyes on Jisung. Alive Jisung, Jisung who was fine and who only fucked up a moderate amount.
It had been a long and painful conversation.
Jisung cringed at the mere thought of it all. From then on, Felix began calling him multiple times a day and panicked when Jisung wouldn’t respond in about five seconds. Changbin would show up at his doorstep with food, and he wouldn’t leave until he saw Jisung clear out the plate with his own eyes.
He’d been properly taken care of. Still, the pit in his stomach stayed. No matter how much of Changbin’s delicious food he ate, or how Chan’s kind eyes stared at him while he confessed terrifying things, it stayed.
He wasn’t sure if it’d ever go away.
After the incident that night, things escalated.
Objects across his apartment started moving. Miniscule but conspicuous movements, enough for Jisung to catch them. He had no plausible explanations except that, maybe, he’d finally gone crazy. They’d changed his medicine and increased the dose. Were visual hallucinations only a part of the side-effects? Sometimes, they were auditory as well — he’d hear the TV all the way from his bedroom, but when he’d get up to have a look, it would always be off.
He still didn’t know what caused his mirror to shatter, back then. He didn’t mention the face he saw, not even to Chan. Jisung was treading on thin ice already, his friends didn’t need more piled up problems, more burdens. He learned his lesson.
The objects usually moved during the night. Jisung was awake then, he rarely ever slept, but he’d been too scared to check for every sound. Perhaps it was a good idea for him to invest in a cat.
Jisung considered opening up about it to his therapist, but the most he’d get is another diagnosis, probably. He had no one else to talk to.
Felix was out of the question. Jisung loved him like a brother, but the guy would never step foot into his apartment again.
Changbin — he was so strong that Jisung was sure his muscles would be enough to beat up ghosts , too. But, for some reason, he didn’t want to test that theory.
He’d investigate it by himself. But first, he’d need some sort of prior knowledge; like a hyper-specific Reddit post, or anything that matched his situation to let him know he wasn’t completely doomed.
His search history became concerning, to say the least.
objects move around the house
how do you know if theres a ghost in your house??
mirror shatters out of nowhere meaning
how do you know if the ghost inside your house is friendly?
can ghosts kill me????
He didn’t learn anything useful. Watching the entirety of Supernatural all those years ago gave him a vague idea of what he was supposed to be doing, but he wasn’t insane enough to start listening to a TV show just yet.
If Chan found out Jisung had put salt on every door and every window in his house, he’d most likely take him to the hospital. Again.
Therefore, Jisung came up with a new tactic. Talking out loud. He’d done that before, just less often, and about less important things. Now, he’d have entire conversations with the imaginary person in his apartment — with no verbal responses, of course.
He’d watch movies and comment on how bad the acting was. He’d play music and ask the empty room if he sang well. He’d break down at night and sob in his bed like a wounded dog, but at least he had someone with him, right? At least someone was listening.
Paranormal activity ceased while Jisung was actively speaking, while he was in the room; almost as if the spirit was shy. The only sign it ever gave in front of Jisung, apart from the first shattered mirror, was the flickering of fairy lights in his room. They’d rapidly turn on and off, but only when Jisung was having a not-so-pleasant night.
Whoever this spirit was, it was attempting to gain Jisung’s attention in order to help him. That’s what the shattered mirror served as — a distraction, a sudden scare to make him snap out of it.
Jisung began fearing the spirit in his apartment less, from then on.
Instead, he became grateful.
“Come oooon, ” Felix drawled. “Just tonight? It’s been so long since we went out. Seungmin will be with us, but if you don’t want him to come I’ll just tell him to go with his boyfriend.”
Jisung couldn’t help but grin. “As if you can push Seungmin away.”
Felix’s pout could be heard over the phone. “He’s scary, sometimes.”
“He’s a dork. His boyfriend is an even bigger dork. They’re just a couple of dorks.”
“What ever ! Will you come or not?”
Jisung adjusted the phone to hold it against his ear with his shoulder as he prepared lunch. Going out with Felix in his current state was a bad idea, probably. He was still a mental mess, he wasn’t allowed to drink, and he wasn’t in the mood for getting all dolled-up.
“I can hear you overthinking, Sungie,” Felix deadpanned. “Let’s just go. I miss you, I want to be with you.”
“You do know I can’t drink, right?”
“Obviously.” A brief pause. “...I don’t have to drink either.”
Jisung winced. “Don’t do that because of me. I’m just saying, what’s the point of going to a club if you won’t drink?”
He transferred his noodles into a bowl. He probably overdid it with the spicy sauce packet, but he’d survive.
He put Felix on speaker as he ate.
“The world doesn’t revolve around alcohol,” Felix said. “We can have fun without getting drunk.”
“Not as much fun,” Jisung added, albeit with his mouth full.
“Just… show up, yeah? If you don’t like it, we can leave and hang out at my place.”
Damn Felix and his deep rumbly voice. It always made Jisung want to believe every word he’d said. Never trust a pretty man with a pretty voice — that was what he’d told Chan before the man started dating Felix. He desperately needed to listen to his own advice sometimes.
“Fine,” Jisung said. “We can go out tonight.”
Felix screamed into the phone.
“Alright, ghost in my house,” Jisung started. He held a pair of jeans in each hand. “Which ones should I wear tonight?”
As expected, there was no answer. It was fun to play along, though. Maybe he had to adapt to the ghost’s way of communicating.
“Okay, wait. Change the color of my lights to white if you like the black ones, or change them to yellow if you like the blue denim.”
Surprisingly enough, the lights slowly shifted to white. Jisung ignored the way his heart was thumping in his chest.
“... Oookay , this isn’t crazy at all. So, black jeans?”
Silence. The lights stayed white.
“They’re tighter than what I usually wear. If I didn’t know any better, secret ghost, I’d say you were flirting with me.”
The quiet mocked him. He sounded insane.
Jisung sighed and changed according to what the spirit picked. It was one of his better outfits. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was now in tight pants and a shirt that exposed his midriff, but hey, that was none of his business. The ghost has spoken.
He even said “goodbye” as he was leaving the apartment, like some sort of housewife. Truth be told, this situation was helping him immensely. The fact there was a miniscule chance someone was listening to his dumb ramblings, it felt like he had an actual roommate, like he was no longer lonely and decaying.
Jisung had been stuck in that downhill slope ever since he dropped out of college in hopes of “getting his shit together”. He’d achieved the contrary, instead. The empty apartment didn’t help; neither did the boring, monotonous days. He’d spiral and spiral and spiral with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, and he’d become a terrible person because of it. The cold things he’d say to his friends were a reflection of his younger self — a person he’d tried his best to grow out of.
He quickly realized that this is what he needed all along. Some company. Some new company.
Felix and Seungmin were beautiful, in their very own definitions of the word. Felix had put glitter on top of his freckled face, his nails were painted, his blonde hair had purple streaks. Seungmin was handsome in the perfect boyish way; he trimmed his hair shorter than Jisung had ever seen and he had a slit on his eyebrow. Changbin brought out the best in him.
Felix hugged Jisung so tight he heard a crack. He complimented each aspect of Jisung’s outfit, even his perfume and his attempt at make-up. Seungmin seemed unsure about a hug, but Jisung gave him one anyway — he’d missed the guy too much. The three of them moved to the side, to a spot that was fairly secluded.
“I won’t be drinking either,” Seungmin said into Jisung’s ear, voice pitched high over the club’s loud music.
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Well, someone has to drag Felix home,” Seungmin replied with a smile. “And I don’t want you to worry about that. You’ve done that enough times.”
Jisung nodded solemnly. He did not want to be in Seungmin’s shoes. A drunk Felix was a whole new experience.
Speaking of , the culprit was already mingling around the club in search of a drink. Jisung wasn’t sure how it was possible to lose Felix within five minutes of entering, but wonders never truly cease when you’re best friends with the most social of butterflies.
Jisung felt eyes on him. He turned his head, but Seungmin was on his phone, and the rest of the club was too full for him to properly see anything. The feeling soon disappeared, and Felix came back with a drink.
“I’m the only one drinking? Seriously?”
Seungmin shrugged. “Go stupid, go crazy. I’m your designated driver tonight.”
“Don’t be silly,” Felix said. “I can always call Chan to pick me up.”
Jisung leaned against the wall behind him. A true wallflower. “What if tonight is the night he finally falls asleep?”
Felix looked down. “You’re right… I wouldn’t want to disturb him.”
“Just get drunk, Lix,” Seungmin sighed. “Sung and I are totally fine like this.”
“Totally,” Jisung confirmed.
It took only thirty minutes for Felix to start jumping around. Jisung always found his best friend’s energy too contagious, so after a while he started jumping, too. It felt nice to finally dance with Felix again. The other held his hands and hugged him, drunkenly saying sappy things in his ear that Jisung would savor forever. He was so grateful he was sober.
His nape pricked again at the feeling of eyes boring into it. It was even more intense now, and when Jisung snapped his head around, two people stood behind him.
He recognized one of them as Hyunjin – Changbin’s ex. Jisung had spoken to Hyunjin on only a couple of occasions in the past. He and Changbin weren’t exactly together together, Jisung was pretty sure it had been a situationship. But the two of them broke off one day, and Changbin never really explained why.
Hyunjin was pretty in a similar way Felix was. A perfect mix of feminine and masculine, carried by confidence, decorated with golden jewelry all around. He now had a labret piercing, which Jisung failed to recall from before. Hyunjin smiled when Jisung locked eyes with him, even though he now felt slightly intimidated and could offer a pathetic little smile in response.
Jisung didn’t recognize the other person. High cheekbones and razor-sharp eyes, paired with a pretty smile that showed off deep dimples. He looked younger, but stronger than Jisung — the black tank top he wore left very little to the imagination. Jisung noticed the two of them had matching necklaces; a white, oval gemstone.
“It’s you guys!” Seungmin said before Jisung could collect his thoughts. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He hugged both of them. Jisung had no idea Seungmin was on good terms with Hyunjin. Huh. It seemed like he had been way out of the loop with his friend group.
“ He wanted to come,” the guy next to Hyunjin replied. “I wanted to stay home and watch Nosferatu.”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “We’re saving that movie for Halloween, remember?”
“I physically can’t wait that long.”
“It’s a month away, you’ll survive.”
“I heard the movie was pretty bad,” Jisung blurted out. All eyes were on him in a second. Shit. “...That’s just. What I heard.”
The unknown guy smiled, all wide and toothy. For some reason, it was scary. “I love crappy movies.”
“Oh, right,” Seungmin said with a snap of his fingers. “Jisung, you already know Hyunjin?”
“We know each other,” Hyunjin confirmed with a smile. He still shook Jisung’s hand for good measure. “It’s been a while. Have you been well?”
Hah, you have no idea, Jisung thought. He only nodded instead.
Seungmin motioned to the other person. “That’s Jeongin. My former roommate, but current best friend and menace.”
Jeongin waved. “Hey there!”
“Hi,” Jisung said.
He’d heard about Jeongin — mostly from fleeting mentions of his name in Changbin’s stories. He was finally able to put a face to the name, now. For some reason, Hyunjin and Jeongin were slightly off-putting.
“Could we borrow Jisung for a second?” Hyunjin asked.
Wait. Huh.
Seungmin shrugged. “Go all out. Bring him back before midnight.”
“No way,” Jeongin said. “We’re taking him home.”
“Don’t, Lix is gonna kill me.”
“I’m joking! It’ll be, like, five minutes tops.”
Jeongin slipped a hand under Jisung’s arm and pulled him away.
At that moment, Jisung knew he was fucked. He wasn’t sure why, or how, but he just knew.
They took him outside, in front of the club. Less noise and more room to talk, Hyunjin had explained. Jisung wasn’t aware he had any topics in common with Hyunjin, much less Jeongin, but here they were. He barely exchanged any words with them. At least he could breathe a bit easier now.
“So… did I do something?” Jisung smiled nervously.
Hyunjin shook his head. “Of course not. We just wanted to ask you something, because we sensed… an energy about you.”
Okay, now he was confused.
“Huh?”
“Do you have a spirit following you around?” Jeongin asked.
“...I’m sorry?”
Hyunjin sighed. “Ayen, stop, you can’t just ask him that.”
Jeongin blinked. “I can’t?”
“Not like that. He’ll get scared!”
“Well, I’m definitely scared,” Jisung chuckled. “How did you even know that?”
“So, we were right.”
Hyunjin took out a cigarette. Jeongin fished out a lighter and lit it up for him.
“We talk to spirits sometimes,” Hyunjin explained. “We’re spiritually open almost all the time, which means we can easily sense whenever someone else is spiritually open. The shifts in their energy are obvious, and you stick out like a sore thumb."
What the actual hell ? Jisung was still stuck on the whole talking to spirits part.
“But I’ve never– I’m not a spiritual person. There’s no way. I don’t even know anything about that.”
“You wouldn’t sense spirits if you weren’t,” Jeongin said. “Do you? Do you sense someone in the room, even when you’re alone? Or do weird things happen to you that you can’t really explain?”
Jisung slowly nodded.
Hyunjin took a drag out of his cigarette. “Tell us all about it, if you want.”
So, he did. He told them about the objects, the flickering lights, the sounds. He told them about the shattered mirror (Hyunjin and Jeongin exchanged a look at that part), about the theory that the spirit is saving his life.
“You don’t think the spirit is malicious?”
“How do I know?” Jisung asked.
“You’d feel uncomfortable in your apartment, or you’d feel like you’re endangered in some way,” Jeongin said.
Jisung shook his head. “Definitely not.”
Hyunjin hummed. “Is there a possibility it could be a loved one?”
Jisung remembered the face he saw. Too vague to discern any facial features, but still unfamiliar.
“I doubt it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He hesitated. “Because I— I saw something. Like, a person. And I didn’t know them.”
Jeongin crossed his arms. He tilted his head, and smiled once again. Jisung was pretty sure this was like an interesting game for him.
“When was that?”
“When I had like… that first near-death experience or something, I must’ve hallucinated it.”
“So,” Hyunjin started, “the activities started from the point when your mirror shattered, and you saw a spirit.”
Jisung nodded.
“You’re quite lucky. Helpful spirits are less common than you think.”
“Why the hell would it want to help me? If I don’t know them?”
Hyunjin shrugged. “You could always ask.”
“And how do I communicate with a ghost?”
Jeongin checked his pockets. He took out a gemstone identical to the one on his and Hyunjin’s necklace, and he handed it to Jisung.
“This makes it easier. It kind of enhances things, I guess. I’d recommend wearing it all the time, like Hyunjin and I do.”
Jisung looked at the stone. He still didn’t really understand why these two were helping him out, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t want to harm him. Jisung trusted Hyunjin, because he trusted Changbin; and Jeongin was too smiley at times, but he didn’t seem like a bad guy. Still, Jisung would have to do some deep-diving on them.
“Thank you,” Jisung said earnestly. “Really. I don’t know why you’re doing this for me, though.”
“We’re just, like, really good guys,” Jeongin joked.
Hyunjin laughed. “We know how overwhelming it can all be. It helps to have someone who understands you.”
“I can’t believe I’m not crazy. I thought I was hallucinating everything.”
Jeongin stretched his arms above his head, like a cat. His necklace glistened under the moonlight. “Oh, yeah, we’ve all been there.”
Hyunjin gave Jisung his phone number. The other told him he’d be available always, for any questions. Jisung doubted he’d ever text him, but it helped to have his number, just for the sake of his peace of mind.
Jisung wanted to ask how the two of them knew so much. He wanted to ask about their story, about where they found the weird gem and how they knew it was an enhancer. But Seungmin stumbled outside with Felix draped across his back, and Jisung knew that their night was over.
“Hyunjinnie! Why are you stealing my best friend,” Felix slurred. Seungmin looked ready to throw him into his car.
Hyunjin laughed, then snapped a picture of Felix for good measure. “You’re a mess.”
“Had too many shots, hyung?” Jeongin teased with a grin.
Felix flailed his arms around uselessly. “Go away you menace !”
“This is our cue to leave,” Hyunjin said. “We’ll see you around, Jisung, okay?”
“Uh– sure. Yeah.”
Hyunjin and Jeongin left as subtly as they had shown up. Seungmin seemed adamant on getting Felix home, and he offered Jisung a ride which he accepted, against his better judgement.
It had been an eventful night. Felix was right all along — he didn’t even need alcohol to feel nice.
The gemstone sat in his pocket, and he fiddled with it all the way up to his front door. He ran his thumb along its smooth surface, even when he entered his apartment and he noticed it was eerily quiet.
He noticed his bedroom door was left open. At this point, these things weren’t that concerning. Still, he felt different now, the atmosphere in his apartment was completely different, as if more intense. He brought the gemstone up to his chest; almost using it as protection.
Warily, Jisung glanced around the corner and stepped into the living room. He almost dropped the gemstone when he saw that he wasn’t alone.
There was someone there, standing right in the middle of his kitchen, their back turned to Jisung.
His first thought was an intruder. Jisung froze on the spot, suddenly overtaken by fear. He had no weapons in his apartment. What the hell would he use? A vase? His remote control? His eyes frantically searched, gripping the gem so hard he thought it’d crack under the pressure.
The person turned, and Jisung gasped out loud, even though he didn’t mean to.
This wasn’t an intruder. Real, alive people didn’t look like that.
His irises were completely off-white, almost matching the pale color of his sclerae. The blue capillaries under his eyes marked his face in thin, intricate lines. His skin — it was practically colorless, as if drained of all blood. It wasn’t like the movies, his body didn’t look see-through at all, he didn’t seem like he’d float in the air or through objects.
Jisung stared. He didn’t know what else to do but stare. The person raised an eyebrow, and Jisung felt like dying, because that wasn’t supposed to happen. This guy wasn’t supposed to be attractive, but he was, and Jisung didn’t know what the fuck to do with an attractive ghost in the middle of his apartment.
“You can see me?” The spirit spoke. Jisung flinched at the sound of his voice, pitched higher than he expected. He could only nod.
The person looked at Jisung up-and-down, and smiled. His front teeth were cute.
“You wore the things I recommended.”
“I’m sorry, what the fuck is going on right now?” Jisung whispered.
“Well, I’m Minho,” the other said. “And I’m the one who’s been keeping you company.”