Ji-eun trudged back into the apartment after a long day at work, barely able to keep her eyes open. All she wanted was to collapse on the couch, eat instant ramen, and zone out to some mindless TV. As she kicked off her shoes and stepped into the living room, however, she was greeted by a strange scene. Joon-ho was in the middle of the room, hovering a few inches above the floor, his legs crossed in a lotus position as if he were some kind of paranormal yoga instructor. Several objects floated in the air around him—her favorite coffee mug, a pair of socks, a remote control, and, inexplicably, a head of lettuce.
She blinked in disbelief. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," she screamed. "Wha… what the hell do you think you're doing in my house? You scared me."
He didn't move an inch; he just kept on doing his stuff like no one was there.
"Joon-ho!" she shouted in frustration.
"Calm, I'm channeling my energy," he said in a serene voice, still closing his eyes. "Reaching a state of ghostly zen."
Ji-eun's eye twitched. "And why is my lettuce involved?"
Joon-ho cracked one eye open and glanced at the floating vegetable.
"Oh, that? I was trying to see if I could make a salad telekinetically. You know, spice up the whole haunting gig."
Ji-eun groaned, dropping her bag on the floor. "I don't need a floating salad. I need my sanity back."
Joon-ho grinned and slowly floated back down to the floor, letting the objects drop around him. The coffee mug landed safely on the table, but the lettuce splattered onto the floor like a crime scene at a produce aisle. He looked proud of himself. Ji-eun gave him a tired side-eye. "And make sure to clean up that mess telekinetically or I'll exorcise you."
"Woah—don't be so harsh, ma'am." He pouted his lips like a five-year-old and started cleaning. Suddenly, he stopped and moved closer to her. "Admit it—living with me isn't so bad. I bring excitement to your otherwise boring life."
"Excitement?" Ji-eun echoed in disbelief, gesturing toward the scattered objects. "Excitement is not the word I would use. Chaos, insanity, you know… crazy words like that. Those are the words I'd use."
Joon-ho crossed his arms and gave her a cocky smirk. "You know you'd be bored without me."
Ji-eun threw her hands up. "I was doing just fine before you came along! My life was peaceful! Predictable! There were no floating objects or ghostly disturbances! It was—"
"Boring," Joon-ho interrupted. "Admit it. You didn't move into this place to escape. You moved in because you were stuck in your own life. And now, you've got me to shake things up."
Ji-eun opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Was he… right? As much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that hadn't hated the unpredictability of the last few days. She had moved into the apartment hoping for something new, something different, and boy, had she gotten it. In the most unexpected—and most inconvenient—way possible.
"No, of course not. I live a very interesting life, you know… it's not like you know me," she refused to admit, not wanting to let him win the argument.
"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, I see. You sure did," she laughed inwardly, causing a smile on his face.
"Truly," she said. "I'm not lying."
"Yeah, I know," Joon-ho nodded and started laughing, making Ji-eun feel teased.
"Hun," she scoffed, "I won't say any more. It's your choice to believe me. But please help me try and make things a little less… ghostly? You know… I don't need my lettuce floating around like it's starring in some haunted cooking show. What if I had a guest over at that time? It would have been chaotic." She imagined how the scenes would have felt like and shook her head in dismay. "No, no, no, no, no," she muttered.
Joon-ho shrugged. "I make no promises. Being dead is boring, and I've got to entertain myself somehow."
Ji-eun gave him a tired look. "You're impossible."
"Thank you," Joon-ho said with a mock bow. "I try."
Ji-eun shook her head and headed into the kitchen to prepare her instant ramen. As she waited for the water to boil, she couldn't help but reflect on how bizarre her life had become. A few days ago, she was just a regular woman with a regular job, living a regular life. Now, she was having arguments with a ghost about lettuce. She sighed. This was her life now, apparently. When she returned to the living room with her bowl of ramen, she found Joon-ho lying on the couch, flipping through TV channels. Well, to be more accurate, he was floating an inch above the couch, his hand lazily moving the remote control.
Ji-eun rolled her eyes. "Are you really going to watch TV while floating?"
Joon-ho glanced at her. "I'm a ghost. What do you expect? It's not like I can just sit down like a normal person."
"You could try," Ji-eun said, sitting down in the armchair across from him. "I mean, if you're going to stick around, you might as well make an effort to act normal."
"Act normal?" Joon-ho repeated, looking offended. "I'm not normal. I'm dead! What do you want me to do? Pretend to be alive and play house with you?"
Ji-eun shot him a look. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to make an effort."
Joon-ho scoffed. "You humans are so obsessed with pretending everything is normal. Why can't you just embrace the weirdness?"
"Because I can't exactly explain the weirdness to other people," ji-eun said, taking a bite of her ramen. "Can you imagine me trying to tell my friends, 'Oh, by the way, I live with a dead guy who floats around and talks about ghostly zen'? Hahaha, I'm sure I'd be locked up in a padded room before you could say 'poltergeist.'"
Joon-ho grinned. "Hey, it's not so bad. Padded rooms are pretty comfortable, I hear."
Ji-eun threw her chopsticks at him. They went right through his chest and landed on the floor with a soft clatter. Joon-ho looked down at the chopsticks and then back up at her, feigning hurt. "Ouch! You wound me. I'm going to die, Ji-eun. Ouch, ouch, ouch, it hurts," he said, then fell to the ground still floating, pretending to be dead.
Ji-eun groaned and got up to retrieve her chopsticks, ignoring his feigned play.
"I should've known that wouldn't work."
"Better luck next time," he stood up, leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head. "But seriously, why don't you just relax? You don't have to be so uptight all the time. Enjoy the ride. You've got a ghost for a roommate. How many people can say that?"
"Not enough for it to be normal," Ji-eun muttered, sitting back down with her ramen. "And anyway, you're the one who's causing all the stress. If you'd just… I don't know… tone it down a bit, maybe I could actually relax."
Joon-ho looked thoughtful for a moment. "Tone it down, huh? Alright, I'll try… but no promises."
"Thank you," Ji-eun said with a sigh of relief. "That's all I'm asking."
For a brief moment, there was peace in the apartment. Ji-eun ate her ramen, and Joon-ho flipped through the channels, both of them content in their own way. But of course, the peace didn't last.
"So," Joon-ho.said suddenly, glancing at her with a mischievous grin. "What's the deal with that guy from work?"
Ji-eun nearly choked on her ramen. "What guy?"
"You know," Joon-ho said, waggling his eyebrows. "That guy you were talking to in the break room this morning. Tall, handsome, totally your type."
Ji-eun's eyes widened. "Wait—how do you know about that?"
Joon-ho smirked. "I followed you to work."
Ji-eun gaped at him. "You what?"
"I was bored!" Joon-ho said defensively. "And besides, I wanted to see what your life is like. You know, get a sense of how you spend your time when you're not here being boring."
Ji-eun glared at him. "You can't just follow me to work! That's—That's—"
"What...? Ghostly stalking?" Joon-ho suggested, grinning.
"Yes!" Ji-eun exclaimed. "That's exactly what it is! You can't do that!"
Joon-ho shrugged. "Too late. I already did. And I've got to say, your work life is almost as boring—oh, I mean as interesting—as your home life."
Ji-eun groaned and buried her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare…"
"Hey, relax," Joon-ho said, patting the air in front of him as if to calm her down. "I'm not going to follow you every day. Just… you know… on the days when I get bored."
Ji-eun's eyes narrowed. "You better not."
Joon-ho grinned mischievously. "No promises."
Ji-eun sighed, feeling utterly defeated. Living with a ghost was hard enough, but now she had to worry about being haunted at work too? This was going to be a long—and very weird—ride.