Luhan cranks up the volume on his Mp3 player. He hates doing homework, especially Social Studies. He doesn't get the point of going to school if he already knows what he's destined to be.

Being an other just means that finding any kind of normalcy in his life would be hard. The struggle started the day he used his powers when one of his simple-minded junior high school mates tried to step over him. It wasn't his fault the stupid boy kept calling him names and tried to beat him up for being too cute. All Luhan did was stretch out his hand and the boy went flying across the hall into the lockers. He was just thinking it. He didn't even touch the boy.

Luhan's mother had explained it all to him when he was about nine years old. He'd caught her packing away dishes without using her hands. He'd been afraid and crying, but his mother coaxed him nearer with soothing words, and sat him down at the table with a glass of milk and two chocolate chip cookies.

Now, five years later, he was facing a week-long suspension, dealing with puberty, and on top of that, superpowers. It was just a little too much for a fourteen-year-old.

To make things worse, he's grounded and has to miss out on soccer practice too. Minseok was probably freaking out at having to share the offence with Kris and his two left feet.

Luhan puts away these thoughts for later. No point in thinking about things that can't be changed now, his mom always says.

There's a loud crack in the air. Luhan hears it right through Chang Min's melodic high pitches in his ears.

He turns quickly, heart beating faster. He scans the room and sees nothing out of the ordinary. Must've been his imagination.

With the headphones back in his ears, Luhan continues with homework.

Ten minutes later...

There's a crack again.

He hurriedly takes out his earphones, fear taking over his entire body. He's alone at home and this only increases the fear.

There's a tiny sob this time followed by a sniffle.

Luhan is scared less. Even with a superpower, scary things still freak him out. He doesn't even stand a chance against horror movies.

He gathers up enough courage to turn around this time. There, in the corner of his room, Luhan sees him – a boy with wavy dark hair sitting on his shoulders, sunkissed skin, wearing a blue shirt and a blue jeans.

Luhan doesn't believe in ghosts– yeah right–but he still remembers to be polite, just like his mother told him to.

"Hello," he says gently, voice wavering. "Are you lost?"

The boy just stares at him, eyes open wide and his lips still pouting. A tiny sob escapes his lips.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. I...I just want to help you," Luhan says. "Are you hurt?"

The boy shakes his head.

Luhan takes two steps closer and the boy in a breath.

The boy sneezes and in less than a second, he's gone.

What the fu—?

Crack.

There's another sob and a sniffle. Luhan swirls around quickly to see the boy standing in the opposite corner of his room, right next to his bookshelf which is still wobbling a little from the boy bumping into it.

"Careful," Luhan says as he dashes over and reaches onto the top shelf to keep his Player of the Year trophy from falling on this little ghost's head–which shouldn't hurt if he were a ghost. Should it?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to...huh huh–" The boy stops his sneeze this time. "I didn't mean to scare you," he mumbles.

Cute.

The boy lowers his gaze and keeps his eyes on Luhan's hands.

They're shaking and Luhan hadn't noticed.

"Is there something you need from me?" he starts, after taking a few seconds to calm himself down. "Would you like me to give a message to someone?" Luhan is pretty sure this method is fail proof because it worked out just fine for the kid in The Sixth Sense.

"My mom's looking for me," the boy says. "But every time I try to stay home I just come back here." The boy sniffles again. Luhan grabs a tissue from the second shelf and hands it to him.

The boy sneezes again and just like before, he's gone.

Ten seconds later...

Crack.

All the air is swooshed out of Luhan's lungs as he lands with his back on the ground.

The boy scrambles to his feet. Luhan just stares up at him. How can he be a ghost if he just landed on top of me? He gathers his thoughts and rights his face. He doesn't want to scare this being off again. He has to help. "What's your name?"

"Jongin." The boy sniffles.

"Jongin," Luhan repeats. "Where did you come from?"

Jongin points to the window. Luhan follows with his eyes.

"You came from out there?" he asks, face shell-shocked. Maybe he is a­–

Jongin walks to the window and motions for Luhan to follow.

"No," he says and points again. "From there."

He's pointing to the house next door. The house with the new neighbours who moved in two weeks ago. Luhan's mother had said something about them having a boy he could play with who also liked soccer. Now he remembers.

Jongin sniffles again and brings the tissue still in his hand to his nose and blows.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Luhan nods and smiles. "Ok"

"I'm different. I-I mean I'm a boy, but I'm different," Jongin says and looks down onto the floor.

Luhan reaches out, all the fear from before gone, and ruffles the boy's hair. "Can I tell you a secret too?"

Jongin looks up and nods his head. "Ok."

"I'm different too." Luhan smiles.

Jongin sneezes.

Crack.