Minwoo whistled softly as he stared far away into the horizon. It was a peaceful day; the sun was not as strong as it seemed to be, and fluffy white clouds decorated the clear blue sky. The waters seemed to glisten under the sunlight, and the waves that crashes softly against the sand. A wave of serenity washes over him as he played with the sand beneath his feet.

Whether alive or dead, the beach have always been his favourite haunt. A secluded spot whereby he could throw away the spotlight and finally be himself, as well as a place that he can ward off all troubles and worries. The beach, and the ocean, always seemed to have this impact on him, which was one of the reason why he decided to buy a mansion in this particular neighbourhood.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Fifteen years had passed. Fifteen years passed, yet each day he wondered what the hell he was doing here. Was it to relive the memories when he was alive? It couldn’t be so, because every day, each and every day, memories of when he was alive replayed like a broken video player, and nothing happened. He was still here.

Those were good memories though, and Minwoo relished in those memories time and time again. He often lost himself in those times whereby he stood in the middle of the entire stage, panting and sweating from the excessive workouts of those dance movements, yet it always moved him to tears to hear his name being chanted once and once again.

Lee Minwoo! Lee Minwoo! Lee Minwoo!

He often went back to the stage in the day, yet something seemed to be empty no matter how much he remembers those happy moments. He was the only one in that confined area in the end; there were no more screams of joy, no more music bursting from the speakers, no more dancers to experience that same amount of joy and gratitude he had. Everything. Everything was all over.

When he was alive, he frequently wondered how afterlife would be. Will he go on to be in heaven or be in hell? Will anyone remember his name, that there used to be this attractive man called Lee Minwoo? Will anyone tell his story, the hardships he had braved through and the feats that he achieved? Or will his existence be solely wiped off this earth?

He had thought of it before. Yes, he did, yet he didn’t expect it to be so soon. So soon, that he didn’t even register the fact that he was dead, until he tried once and once again to call out to anyone, but failed miserably. Had he done anything wrong? Or was he guilty of something? If not, why was god so unfair? Why was he left here to be alone, for 15 freaking years, even though he was dead? This was something Minwoo never understood.

His thoughts changed to Dongwan suddenly, and his lips seemed to curve upwards subconsciously.

Kim Dongwan.

If it was anything, he believed that god must have finally taken pity on him. That man, that man named Dongwan, must have been god sent from heaven. He could barely keep in his surprise the first moment he met those perpetually watery yet clear eyes, and the moment when he knew the man could see and touch him… Sure, Dongwan didn’t seem to welcome him as much as he wished he would. After all, it was already a miracle that man wasn’t scared out of his wits and called an exorcist on him.

Minwoo let out a small chuckle. Of all the things he could have done, he chose to make rules with a ghost. Not that Minwoo minded, he found every action of Dongwan’s adorable. For the first time in so many years, ignoring the fact of whether he was dead or alive, he had the roaring desire of wanting to get to know the person more.

He thinks he might have been crazy, and it might seem so to anyone who has known him long enough, but only he knows how serious he is. Minwoo couldn’t think of when, or how, but the first time he laid his eyes on Dongwan, something seemed to have tugged his heart. He didn’t know what; it was as though he seemed to have met him before, yet couldn’t remember when. The sense of familiarity bothered him so much he could only become much more annoying in order to shake the feeling away.

He wanted to talk to him more, yet the man didn’t seem to be interested at all. All those cutting comments that he made, it made Minwoo even more interested. If they were going to be roommates, they should at least know each other more. Hence, in his last attempt to at least get Dongwan involved in his life (his afterlife at the very least), he pulled out a desperate measure to get him to find out how he died.

It wasn’t exactly just to get them to be more acquainted though, it was also for Minwoo’s own purpose. As stupid as it sound, Minwoo really couldn’t remember how he died. Was it a suicide? Or was it a murder? He didn’t know. For the past 15 years, he had tried to remember that fateful day, even the last few hours in which he was still breathing, but it was all blank. Blank. He couldn’t remember anything.

Sure, he might have lied a little, just a little, just to keep the conversation going, but he was not sorry for it. Dongwan was special, and who knows, he might really find out what really happened to him. The chances were slim, Minwoo thought.

He didn’t mind. If he was going to stay here forever, he just wanted someone to notice him, to at least be able to call out his name. He wanted someone to talk to, to laugh together with, just like when he was alive. So many years had passed, maybe he should just let go of everything. There seemed to be nothing he had to worry about now, and it was enough.

Letting out a sigh, he stood up and brushed the sand off his pants habitually, even though there wasn’t a need to do that anymore. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t wait for the sun to set. He couldn’t wait to be forced back to the mansion that always happened at dusk.

Most definitely, he couldn’t wait to see the man…called Kim Dongwan.