It really doesn't matter what anyone tells him—Yixing has never and will never believe in ghosts.

“You're all delusional,” is what he murmurs with a snort when his friends bring out some dusty old board which they apparently bought in the shady pawn shop downtown. He doesn't appreciate that his repeated protests remain ignored, even crosses his arms at the sight of Baekhyun and Luhan holding hands beneath the table while scolding Sehun—but not him—for refusing to join their pointless seance.

It’s boring, and damn, it’s sultry in there. You see, Baekhyun has a major obsession with candles and this time he insisted on lighting way too many, even more than last time which Yixing used to think was impossible since last time was hell or as close as it gets. What makes it even worse is that it’s the scented kind now, the ones Baekhyun found in his grandma’s basement next to shelf filled with homemade herbal wine (Yixing know this because despite not having been there because, well, he just does). They look so ugly, so garish, surrounding the board in what is at least meant to resemble a pentagram shape.

Yixing groans. The smell of amber and musk or whatever other those candles are made of is giving him a headache, or so he imagines.

“Tsk, you’re all so childish. Sehun, let’s go,” he says with a pout before the seance begins. Feeling a bit airheaded, quite nauseous in fact, he forces himself to look away from Baekhyun and Luhan whose hands are still clasped together way too tight for his liking. “Let’s leave these idiots alone. Those ghosts are all in their head.”

He doesn't like this stupid game, yet does nothing but wait for nothing to happen when none of his friends—not even the hesitant Sehun—seem to be listening or even acknowledging his presence at all.

“I thought I could trust you!” he then whines out loud, not-so-secretly hurt by the lack of attention as no one does as much as even turn their head. Oh, how mean they are! A bunch of losers! he thinks to himself before sticking out his tongue as if anyone would even notice it at all. “But I guess you're just like them, brat. Hmpf!”

He keeps standing there, though, by Baekhyun’s grandma’s kitchen table since he’s still a bit scared to walk home alone at night, keeps his arms crossed tightly against his chest while continuing to mutter unheard insults under his breath. It saddens him—he can't deny it—that things are always like this these days.

There used to be a time when both Sehun and Luhan were on Yixing’s side, a time when they would all gang up against Baekhyun whenever the latter started babbling about his grandma being “psychic” and “able to contact the dead”, and how she—Yixing almost gags—”probably passed those abilities onto her grandson”. There used to be a time when they would watch horror and laugh instead of gathering in this godforsaken, stuffy old study, a time when Yixing did actually feel welcome (as he was usually propped up comfortably against Luhan’s warm chest).

He curses them now, but they just won't listen. He curses them for having become as stupid as Baekhyun, for believing that some piece of time-worn wood will let them talk to whatever ghost they think is there with them.

“Hello, we are here to peacefully communicate,” Baekhyun says—more like whispers—after a while when the board is all set with their fingers on the planchette. Only silence follows before Yixing scoffs, having already figured out an early age that ouija boards are just useless toys made to more money out of fools and desperate teenagers.

How ridiculous it is! How insanely childish! A bunch superstitious kids, that's what they are!

He’s not the only who doesn't like it, though, he realises just by looking at Sehun who is observing it all with a worried frown. It’s a bit cute, really, how he’s curled up on an armchair at a laughably safe distance while biting his nails, not really participating yet watching still. He could have just agreed to leave along with Yixing, of course, but the latter decides to let it slip this one time.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nothing is really happening with the board which is probably why Baekhyun is beginning to look distressed by now.  It doesn't suit his image as a medium—that obvious nervosity—yet he keeps his jaw slightly clenched and lets his free hand squeeze Luhan’s sweaty one as if in mutual fear of the great unknown, the imaginary demons that won't appear this time, either.

Yixing rolls his eyes and blows raspberries behind them.

When exactly did Baekhyun and Luhan become c