Shane didn't like being at his home alone. He had already hated being in the city of Seoul. He couldn't just wait to take away Jihoon's soul and return to hell.
Shane was so often left alone. All the time he had been training hard to be the next king of hell, Loralie had always been there to help and guide him. But Loralie barely spent any time with him. Loralie, just like Faust, was Shane's half brother who hated him and couldn't bear to spend time with him.
That was how he started loving dramas, TV shows, and music. They were always on. The weekend daytime shows depicted family melodrama; the evening prime-time shows often showed more high-stakes stories. And some took on the fantastical. He remembered, when he was young, a mere child, seeing a show where it showed a grim reaper falling in love with a mortal.
He couldn't wait to tell it to his parents and everyone else as to how the show had appealed to him so his heart had filled in the blanks with the soft moments and sweet love that bloomed between the main characters.
On his birthday when Shane had shown the first episode of the show, his mother, Time had smashed the television set and told him if the future king of hell was going to spend his time watching human shows; he might as well give up his crown and leave hell forever.
'Emotions make you weak.' his mother had told him.
Shane tried his best not to cry. He had been learning to suppress his emotions from a young age. But he couldn't help himself. It was his birthday after all.
That day, Loralie had entered his room with a big box in hand.
Shane sat up in his bed, rubbing away his dried tears. He had stopped crying a few minutes back and he knew better not to cry in front of anyone, especially Loralie.
She placed the box in front of him. "On behalf of the mother, I'm sorry."
"I don't need your stupid sorry Loralie. Go away, it's not like anyone cares about me."
Loralie sighed.
"You're right, they don't; but I do."
"You?" Shane scoffed, a bitter smile on his face, "You're the last person in heaven, hell, or earth to ever care about me. You hate me, remember?"
"I would never hate you, Oshane. I'm your sister. Also, if I hated you, I wouldn't have got you this laptop."
She unwrapped the box. Sure enough, a new laptop had been there.
"I had been saving this for a long time, but I thought of giving it to you now. Happy birthday Shane."
That was the last time Loralie had been nice to him.
That was also the last time she had called him Shane.
Tonight, the weeknight dramas weren't holding Shane's Attention, and he checked his watch. Dinner should have been delivered by now. He glanced at the crumpled menu that had been wedged in their mailbox. he usually didn't order it, but there was nothing in the fridge and he was starving.
Shane rubbed a hand over his stomach as it turned and twisted. It was almost painful, but it wasn't as if he'd been neglecting his meals. At least not for food.
He knew he had to hunt for souls again or he'd be weak.
The doorbell chimed and Shane jumped up. He swung the door open and reached for the food when he stopped short. In front of him, holding out a plastic-covered delivery tray, was Park Jihoon.
"What are you doing here?" Shane blurted out, though it was fairly obvious as he saw his delivery scooter behind him.
"I'm working," he said, glancing at the tray he held between them. Shane grabbed it, and if it hadn't been wrapped so tightly, soup would have sloshed out of the metal bowls. he set it on the ground and held out a few bills.
But Jihoon wasn't paying attention to him. He craned his neck back and stared at the vaulted living room and let out an impressed whistle.
"I've never seen inside of here. Too scared to take a peek."
"Are you going to stop babbling and take the money?" Shane asked. Jihoon got on his nerves without even trying.
"You know they say this place is haunted," Jihoon continued, making to step inside.
Shane moved to block, causing them to collide.
"What do you think you're doing?" Shane's tone was icy. He wanted Jihoon to leave immediately.
"Come on, you can't blame me for being curious," Jihoon said with a wide smile that flashed his dimples. "They've been telling stories about this house since I was born. That it once belonged to an old witch whose lover ran away and she placed a curse on it so no one who ever lived here would find love."
Shane rolled his eyes, but he folded his arms, suddenly wondering if he felt a chill.
"You're an idiot if you believe in those types of stories."
"An idiot who is working right now." Jihoon flashed his million-dollar smile.
Shane could tell he had no intention of leaving quietly. His hunger for both food and souls was beginning to take the better of him. If he didn't have anyone, he would have just kill Jihoon.
"Fine, if I let you take a look around, then will you leave?"
"Sure." Jihoon shuffled in and took off his shoes. He picked up the delivery tray without asking and deposited it on the low coffee table in the living room.
Shane picked it up and placed it on the dining table.
"Whoa, cool," Jihoon said, staring at the statue of the bronze fox in its glass case.
"Okay, have you seen enough? Will you go?"
"You're not a very good host. You didn't even offer me anything to drink," Jihoon pointed out; a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Well, I've never had anyone over before."
Jihoon stopped his study of the jade binyeos and stared at her.
"Really? Never? Not even when you were a little kid?"
"I've never stayed anywhere long enough to make friends."
Jihoon frowned at that. "So you never had friends to your house to just hang out?"
"How sad," it wasn't meant to hear. Except Shane's vulcan hearing picked it up. And it poked at him, his pity.
"Well, I'm sure it's hard for someone like you to understand, but people don't necessarily like me."
"Someone like me?" Jihoon asked.
Why was that what he focused on?
"Yeah, the type of person everyone likes."
Jihoon threw back his head and laughed, a boisterous sound that filled the space until it felt just a little less cold. A little less empty.
Shame blinked in surprise.
"That is definitely not me. A lot of people don't like me."
"That's not true," Shane insisted. "I've seen you. Everyone in the class likes you. They all talk to you in the halls and greet you."
"They're polite, I guess," Jihoon said with a frown. "But they don't know me."
"So?" Shane asked.
"Well, someone can't truly like you unless they know you." He said this like it was obvious. "Maybe it's why you've had trouble making friends," Jihoon mused. "Because you never get to know people."
"Well, I'm never in a place long enough for that," Shane said dismissively, making his voice and expression cold. Shane hated where this conversation was heading; it made his head hurt and his heart squeeze. As if Jihoon were trying to knock at feelings he'd long since buried away.
Shane Walked to the front door and opened it. The happy chirp of the lock disengaging was in direct opposition to his sour mood.
"You should go."
Jihoon seemed resigned as he walked to the door. "Remember to leave the tray outside when you're done. I'll come to pick it up."
"Fine," he said and slammed the door in his face.