In attempt to wipe her shedding tear, Jumie accidentally smudged and ruined her makeup. She looked at the polished mirror to find the reflection of her manager frowning at her. Smiling sheepishly, Jumie raised a wet cloth to rub her face, removing the proof of her embarrassment.

"Yes, sir?" said Jumie nervously.

The middle aged man clicked his tongue in disapproval. "May you explain what happened just now?"

Jumie swallowed heavily. Tonight, Yokdoek Mental Hospital was visited by the Mbc crew as they filmed their latest episode for the reality show—We Got Married. Everything went smoothly at the start of the filming as her co-workers and she operated normally like every other night until the virtually married couple reached her, where the bride practically fell unconscious when Jumie grabbed her arm. At that, chaos erupted. And apparently, someone had to take the blame. So who was it, if it wasn't for the little ghost, who was the last to attend to the two celebrities?

Jumie didn't response for a moment. Was it her fault for doing her job to scare people? Why should she apologize for something that wasn't her fault? Mr. Jeon crossed his arms, tapping his foot to the ground, "It isn't the first time you have an accident, Ms. Jang. You've been a wonderful employee, the best I've seen in fact, but you do get overboard with your work. The next time something like this ever happen again, I won't hesitate to dismiss you."

Jumie merely nodded, repressing her emotions as her fingers wrinkled her shirt, mentally raging at how unfair the world was.

She changed into her casual clothes, bowing and bidding her co-workers goodbye before riding on her bike. It was barely late, but shop owners were beginning to close their shops. The 17-year-old girl found herself observing the commotion around her as the folks rushed around to conclude the end of their day.

"Watch it!" a voice cried before she could ran into a little girl who happened to stumble into the cycling lane. Shocked, she brought her bicycle to a screeching stop, almost toppling over herself. To her relief, the child wasn't unharmed as she simply stared up at the teenager with an adorable gaze.

Jumie let out a small laugh, about to stoop down to help the child up when another girl—her sister, it seemed, rushed over and steered the toddler away, but not before eyeing Jumie warily. Thus action made the girl's face fell, her reaching hand was left hovering before dejectedly lowered to her side.

Namjoon was wiping the counter when the bell chimed, signalling that a customer had walked in. He looked up to welcome the last customer for the night, but only to find no one as the automatic door slid close on its own. He left his station, closely examining the entrance when—

Thud.

Dropping the stained rag, Namjoon whirled around at the unanticipated sound that shattered the peaceful atmosphere. He fixated his eyes at the back of the store, where a portable noodle cup silently rolled by. Anxiety arose from his chest, and he subtly moved over to the counter, pulling out a baseball bat.

Hardly making any noise, Namjoon snuck further into the store, gripping tight on the bat, as if his life depended on it. For all he knew, the uninvited soul might be wielding a gun or a knife, and he wasn't too excited at losing his life at a young age. Before he could let panic take control of his insides, he breathed in, telling himself to get a grip.

He peered at the dining area, discovering a mess of ramyun cups and bags of kimchi seasonings on the table; the hot water tap was left on, releasing puffs of steam from the metal surface of the sink. The culprit, however, was nowhere to be found, and Namjoon's shoulders tediously drooped, registering the fact that he got robbed from under his nose.

He swivelled around to grab a nearby mop to clean up the mess when he was confronted with the most disturbing sight behind him—a girl. Her shoulders was bobbing up and down, as if she was crying; her black hair cascaded down her face. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he shakingly lifted up the bat in his hands. Without warning, the girl fixated her attention on him. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot; black-tinted tears from her eyeliner streamed down her rosy cheeks. She held up a ramyun cup. "Open this."

The terrified boy screamed.

After a fiasco that had involved a high-pitched scream and quite a lot of tissue rolls, Namjoon calmly but carefully walked over to the eating girl. "Here, it's on my paycheck." He placed a soda can in front her before going back to tidy up the place. He'd sometimes glanced at the obviously upset girl, guilt gnawing his guts for screaming at her.

"If you want," he began hesitantly. "I can lend you my ears for tonight."

Jumie stopped halfway and eyed Namjoon, as he grew flustered; who was he to say that when he had never even talked with the girl before. He faked a cough, "Uh—what I meant was that I got your back—uh, wait—even though we don't know each other well, I'll, um...yeah."

The girl bowed her head thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons of talking with the vice president of her school.

"Was it wrong for me to be like this?" she whispered inaudibly. "Was it my fault to be myself? I found the supernatural interesting. Why can't they let me love it and accept me as I am? Why can't I have a friend that can support me?"

Namjoon was dumbstruck by her confession. He was her classmate for two years, and he was sure he hadn't heard Jang Jumie talked for that long. He felt guilty for those years of not trying to initiate a conversation with the girl, and he was supposed to be the responsible one.

"That's not true," chided Namjoon lightly. "They're tons of people out there who won't judge you. You just haven't met them yet. I'm sure a lot wouldn't mind being friends with you, if you could just let them." He reached to pat her head in an affectionate way.

There was a strange warmth that swept over her and she closed her eyes in bliss. Who knew a few sincere words could heal her breaking heart?

Perhaps this was what it like to have a friend.

With it being an exam-filled week, Jumie was left alone by her bullies as they were too involved in their studies. She still didn't know whether she was really glad that she had finished her midterm exam; already losing hours of her night-time revising lessons and key points, and she wasn't exactly the brightest bulb out there. But being left alone was what she had taken by granted. Sighing, she sank into the comfort of her arms while her classmates crowded around the front door, impatient to leave the stuffy room.

Someone rapped on the edge of her table. Jumie had a hunch of who it was, so she stayed motionless and buried in her arms, while Jimin smiled down at her sympathetically. He whirled a nearby chair and straddled on it, facing her.

"Sunbae and Namjoon-shi abandon you again." she remarked. Jimin grinned, internally feeling embarrassed that the always clueless girl noticed how neglected he was by his peers. There were perks and disadvantages of being close with the school council members; he'd sometimes wished he wouldn't have them as best friends.

"How do noona know?" Jimin mimicked her action, placing his chin before her head, breathing in her scent—an intoxicating smell of lavender and herbs that she usually bathed herself with. Because of her lack of attention on appearance, he'd at times forgot that Jang Jumie was still a girl; the fact that she loved being bathed in nice fragrance surprised him. Jumie looked up, unfazed by the close proximity between their faces.

"You're here." she simply elaborated.

Jimin didn't have the chance to answer back, when a familiar husky voice shouted at them. "Break it up! Break it up, you two!"

Yoongi threw a chalk at Jimin, precisely hitting the side of his forehead with it. Jimin cursed his older friend's natural shooter arm, as there was a noticeable dot on his temple. "Hyung." the junior whined, rubbing the spot.

"Don't hyung me, you rascal!" scolded Yoongi. "Didn't I tell you multiple times to not make out in classroom?"

Jimin blushed while Jumie remained unfazed as she straightened up, brushing imaginary dusts from her uniform. She wasn't sure why but she could never be embarrassed of trivial nonsense that sprouted out of Yoongi's mouth, or maybe she just chose to ignore him like how she'd ignored Sanbyul. Ironically, Jumie did grow closer to the latter's friend, Chanmi.

Yoongi then turned to her indifferently. "Chanmi is looking for you, Jang."