After blinking away the sun's rays and contemplating staying in bed for some more, Gray slides out of bed. He stretches his arms out towards the ceiling, his back arching forward. He takes in his new bedroom before humming over to the bathroom. He reappears, face freshly washed.

I wonder if Yoonchul texted me. No, I shouldn't worry about those things. I'll go make some breakfast. Gray prods out of his room but immediately dashes back in towards his nightstand. He sweeps the phone off as he drops to his back on top of the bed. He unlocks his phone and checks his notifications. He slashes through other unimportant notifications as his fingers dash across the screen in search of something, anything from him. When he comes to his last notification, he sighs, sliding the notification over to delete it, too.

Gray rolls over onto his side as he pulls up a saved picture of Yoonchul's smiling face. He takes in the dimple present on his left cheek and remembers a memory from their friendship where he had stuck the tip of his pinkie inside and traced along the curve of the identation. He loses count of time as he continues eyeing the picture. His eyes begin to droop but Gray forces the morning weariness away as he shuts his phone off. He takes a few more seconds with the heat of the phone in his palm before sitting up and making his way to the kitchen.

He turns the corner and goes in search of a plate when he remembers he hadn't unpacked it. He frowns as he makes his way through the thicket of boxes to the other side of the foyer. He's about to pull a ceramic plate out of its crisp paper wrapping when he feels a swoosh of air sweep past his ear. Startled, Gray drops the bowl. He looks in horror as it momentarily teeters on the edge of the box before toppling over onto the floor. The side slams straight into the wooden floor, the material embracing the floor as a long, winding crack breaks through. Gray picks it up, hoping it's still useful, when a huge chunk of the material pops off and drops to the floor. Exasperated, Gray falls back on his behind, banging his head against the wall in resignation.

He turns the plate around in his hands, careful not to touch the chipped part for a bit longer before he sets it down into the box. He reaches for another, gripping it tightly to his chest with both hands as he slides up the wall. He gives another quick gaze at the broken bowl before completely disappearing into the kitchen.

He props the curtain open, smiling at the stream of sunshine that pours in. After setting the egg to a low temperature on the skillet, Gray grabs one of the few knifes pulled from his boxes. He sets it down on top of the counter before heading to grab his other ingredients from the fridge. He sets them down next to his knife before sliding his cutting board out.

As he starts cutting the tomatoes, he looks over his shoulder to check the egg. He feels something glide over the back of his hand and yelps. His hand flies into the air. Gray winces as he feels a sharp pain in the palm of his hand. He runs to turn the stove off before examining his hand. A wound runs down from below the base of his index finger to the middle of his thumb and index finger.

He bites his cheek as he checks for traces of blood anywhere but on his hand. He sees a few drops on the floor and follows the trail up to where the onions are stained with red. He sighs, wrapping a paper towel around his palm before throwing the onions away into the trash bag. He heads for the bathroom to clean up his wound.

The man catches sight of Gray's back as he disappears further into the corridor. He smirks.

When Gray reemerges, he cooks the egg already in the skillet as best he can without burning the bottom. He slides a sheet of aluminum out, checking his wound often for blood. He places the egg on it before cracking another egg in the skillet and finishing his second attempt at an omelet. The last leaf of parsley gets placed on top of the steaming hot skillet. Gray stands back and admires his work before he can't control his desire to eat it. He swallows his saliva and grabs a plastic fork from a bag on the floor. He grabs the plate with his good hand and traverses the foyer towards the living room in a joyful dance.

He steps in and stops mid-track. The plate falls to the floor and shatters in a flurry of white. Gray takes a few steps back until he feels his back pressed up against the wall. He refuses to blink as he keeps his eyes trained on the stranger sitting on his couch.

"If you're going to be in the kitchen, shouldn't you be more careful," the stranger asks as he moves his eyes to Gray's bandaged hand. A smirk slowly spreads across his lips as he watches Gray come to the realization of what he means.

"What do you want," Gray stutters.

He feels along the wall for something with his hands, refusing to remove his eyes from the seated stranger. He inhales sharply when the stranger folds one of his legs over the other.

"This is my home and I do not take kindly to unwelcome guests."

Gray shifts his head to the left and in that second, the stranger stands. Gray darts his attention back towards the stranger who starts taking slow, calculated steps towards him. He winces as the pain of jutting his fingers into his palm overwhelms his nerves. He looks down at his hand to check the wound. When he looks up again, the stranger is standing before him, a hand propped up to the right of his head. Gray draws back further into the wall, ready to run and escape when the stranger places a finger on the bottom of his chin, tilting it up so that Gray looks directly into his eyes.

Gray feels his heartbeat quicken and the palms of his hands start sweating. He feels the bandage slowly come undone. Moments go by before the stranger pulls his finger back and whispers "Boo". Gray immediately loosens up, his eyebrows drawing close as he makes sense of what this stranger just said. A slow smile begins to spread across his lips, a fit of laughter beginning to bubble up. He bites his cheek in hopes of stifling his emerging laughter but it pools over anyways. The stranger pulls back before Gray has time to double over into him. He frowns, staring in confusion at Gray who continues cackling maniacally. After a timeless count, Gray finally straightens himself. He looks at the stranger without fear.

"Why aren't you scared? Why aren't you running? Go, get!"

Gray shakes his head. "Someone who says "Boo" to their captive before doing them harm is no threat."

The stranger balls his hand into a fist. "Get out."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." Gray draws his hands up to his chest, palms facing out. "I should be asking you what you're doing in MY house. This place belongs to me."

"Like hell it does. Look, why are we having this friendly chatter. Pack your things and leave because as you can see, the previous owner isn't gone yet."

"Isn't gone yet? Shouldn't you mean "hasn't left yet?"" Realization crosses Gray's countenance. He takes a step forward, worry plastered over his facial features. The stranger steps back.

"You wouldn't happen to be in some serious trouble, would you?"

The stranger darts his eyes away from Gray's face. He looks at the TV as he tells Gray to leave once more.

"I can help. Don't be afraid to ask for help," Gray pleads as he continues taking steps forward.

"Don't come any closer!" The stranger looks over his shoulder. When he looks back, Gray is a few inches away from him. He yelps, falling back as he trips over a chair. He tumbles over, his jacket flipping over on his eyes.

Gray watches in shock as the man tumbles. When he sees he's stopped moving, he speaks up.

"Why is it that the chair didn't tip over?"

The stranger pries the jacket off from his face before looking straight up at Gray.

"I didn't really touch it whe-"

"A man of your build would have easily flipped that chair over."

Gray stoops to the ground, his elbows perched on his knees. He lets his hands dangle.

"Are you a spirit by any chance?" Gray watches the stranger for a response but he gives no indication of having guessed things correctly. Gray watches him closely.

The stranger snarls, standing up in a flurry. "I don't have time for this. Look, I'll say it again. Leave this house. I'm still here. And if you refuse, I'm still here to make it until you do leave." The stranger seats himself on top of the overturned chair, his body positioned to face Gray but his face turned to view the clear blue sky outside of the large windows.

Gray sighs, standing and turning to make his way to his storage closet for a broom when he remembers his egg from before. He gives the stranger another quick glance before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Gray lifts the aluminum sheet containing the egg and quietly steps back out to the living room. Using a paper towel, he lifts as much of the omelet onto the sheet. He leaves the used paper towel on the floor and stands, the sound of his joints cracking startling the stranger out of his trance.

Gray fumbles with the omelet, nearly dropping it again when the stranger's eyes meet his. He swallows the ball of saliva that had since formed in his mouth.

"I'm going to go take this out," Gray stammers. He feels a heat in his body rise to his cheeks. He quickly turns and dashes out of his apartment complex, his phone ringing just after he closes

I mean, really. Why did I get all flustered. It's not my problem if he's in trouble. All I know is he's not going to kick me out of my own house.

Gray contiunes heading down the apartment's stairwell. Once outside, he sets the aluminum down carefully next to the wall on the other side of the door. He goes back inside, propping the door slightly enough so that he can peek outside. When the cat doesn't show after a few minutes, worry seeps into his mind.

Maybe she's out hunting. Should I approach her nest? No, I wouldn't want to ruin anything.

Gray opens the door further before stepping outside into the dim alleyway's light. He looks in both directions and discovers Yoonchul at the end of the alleyway. Puzzled, he tiptoes along the wall in silence. He lunges out at him the second his foot steps into the sunlight. Yoonchul flails as Gray sweeps his arms over his eyes. He's about to get ready to knead him in the stomach when Gray releases his grip on him and pulls back. Yoonchul turns around and drops his shoulders as soon as he sees Gray.

"Gray! What are you doing scaring me like that!?"

Gray smiles, baring his bright, white teeth. "I mean, I saw you and thought to spook you. Better yet, why are you out here on a Sunday morning?"

"Afternoon and didn't you get my call?"

Gray subconciously reaches into his jean pocket for his phone but comes up empty. He remembers he had set it down on his bed after having gone in search of a text message from Yoonchul. Flustered, Gray looks down at his shoes. "I haven't used my phone all day." He starts counting the number of shoelace holes on each side of his shoe.

Yoonchul reaches for the handle to his door. "Well, nevermind than. I'll be leaving now."

Gray juts his hand out towards Yoonchul as he opens his door but drops his hand before Yoonchul turns to look at him from inside the driver's seat. Yoonchul revs up his car and throws his hand out of the window.

"So, school tomorrow it is, right?"

Gray nods his head. He waits until Yoonchul pulls away before slumping against the wall.

Why did you call me? What were you doing here? You really only ever leave me with mixed feelings and even more questions.

Gray pushes off the wall. He sighs, throwing his hands into his pockets as he strolls back towards the door. The cat turns her head around as Gray approaches, the omelet dangling from between her sharp teeth. She hears her kittens meowing and continues forward. Gray does not notice her as he kicks the stone away and walks in, letting the door slam shut on its hinges.

Just as he nears his door, thoughts of Yoonchul switch over to thoughts of the stranger in his home. He slams the door open, marching his way into the house in search of the man. When he doesn't find him in the living room, he checks his bedroom.

There, on his bed, he lays with his hands resting on his stomach. He's propped up against the headrest with his feet crossed over one another.

Gray immediately runs over to him and throws his feet off.

"What are you doing," he exclaims as he sits up.

"You're on my bed with shoes on! Didn't people give you proper etiquette!?"

The stranger stands up and puffs his chest against Gray. He slams a hand into the wall, cornering him from leaving out of the bedroom.

He leans into him as he says "This is my room and I will do as I please."

Gray stomps his foot on the man. He freezes when he feels his foot bounce back. He looks down and slams again. The stranger pulls back.

Gray looks up, his face ashen.

"You're not human," he whispers.

The stranger walks out of the bedroom. Gray runs after him. "Tell me! You're a spirit, aren't you?"

The stranger stops mid-track. He his lips before talking.

"I don't know. If I am? Is that frightening enough fr you to leave my house?" The stranger turns back. His face has hardened. Gray slides his foot backwards. It takes him a few, but he toughens his shoulders up and tilts his chin up to stare back directly at the stranger.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

Gray retrieves his cell phone from his nightstand before heading out. He doesn't look at the stranger as he brushes past him. He heads for the library. The glass doors do not slide open for him. Surprised, he checks the time on his phone. It reads 7:30 PM. The library closes at 5 on Sundays. It's this late already?

He turns and makes his way back home. Listening to the tune playing inside the elevator, Gray makes a resolve to ignore the stranger in his house as best he can.

He steps inside and finds the stranger seated in the overturned chair again.

"So you can't lift or move anything?" Gray scoffs.

"No, but I can still touch you if that's what'll shut you up."

Gray runs to his bedroom and pulls out his recipe box. He rips a sheet from his notepad before pulling a pencil from his nightstand. He quickly scribbles down rules for living with him. He returns to the living room and slams the sheet of paper into his face. Again, it bounces back slightly but Gray continues holding it in place.

The stranger twists his head around. "What's that?"

"I know you read the title. So long as you live in this house, you will live by these rules."

Gray pulls back, coughing as he dramatically shakes the paper out. "Rule number 1. No coming into contact with me. Rule number 2. Pester me too much and I'll find a way to exorcise you."

"Like that would work," the stranger mumbles.

"What was that? I can't quite hear you. Finally, Rule number 3. Try your absolute best not to come into contact with the real owner of this home."

The stranger stands, his hands balled into fists.

"I'll agree to Rule number 4." Gray slants his eyes and furrows his eyebrows at him.

"I will do as I please."

Gray lets the paper fall to the floor. "You will not."

Gray turns and heads back to his bedroom. He shuts the door before locking it. He can't get in here, right? He waits for the stranger to cross through the door but when seconds turns into minutes of waiting, his guess is affirmed and he pads over to his bed.

He throws himself on his bed, pulling his phone out and trying his best to let his mind wander off to the day's work tomorrow at culinary school. He falls asleep with thoughts of the stranger.