I woke up to kisses.
Soft. Warm. Tender.
I felt… loved.
And then it hit me.
The memories.
Last night.
Every second of it.
The passion.
The laughter.
The moaning.
The madness.
The violation.
Not for her—Serena loved it.
For me.
Because I didn't choose any of it.
But damn it… I felt everything.
Every fiber. Every pulse. Every kiss.
It was supposed to feel wrong.
But it felt… good.
And that's the part that made me want to scream.
"God," I whispered internally, "where the hell was that fast-forward button I asked for?"
Silence. As usual.
I stared at the ceiling through her eyes.
Her arm was draped around Natalie.
And Natalie? Still asleep. Smiling.
There was love in that smile.
Pure, raw, undiluted love.
Not just lust. Not just chaos.
Love.
And for a moment, I forgot I was the third wheel in my own soul.
Because what they had… it was real.
It was everything I never had.
Everything I never gave.
And for the first time, I asked myself:
"Does that make me a bad person?"
"Or just a deprived one?"
Either way, it didn't matter.
Because I couldn't leave.
I tried.
Again.
Nothing.
No exit.
No jump-scare.
No ghost portal.
I couldn't even speak anymore.
Yesterday, I could talk through her lips.
Now? I was just… in her.
Experiencing.
Absorbing.
Every. Damn. Thing.
"This is possession purgatory," I thought.
"A never-ending, sensory prison where I feel pleasure I didn't ask for."
But Serena? She was glowing.
Sore, satisfied, and in love.
I could feel it all.
And I hated it.
Because a part of me started to not hate it.
A part of me started to crave… that kind of love.
Natalie stirred. Kissed Serena's cheek.
"Morning, my love."
Serena giggled.
I flinched.
"Great," I muttered inside my own stolen mind.
"Day two of emotional identity theft."
Also—side note: thank God I didn't wake up to the naked dude.
Apparently, he was a male stripper.
A gift from Natalie.
"Surprise," she'd said.
Nope.
Not my kind of party.
Honestly, this whole world Serena lives in—it's different.
Bolder.
Freer.
Mine was so… small.
And now I was drowning in hers.
And the worst part?
Being surrounded by so much color and life while feeling like a shadow stitched to someone else's heartbeat.
Somehow, that hurt more than the possession.
I just hoped I could float long enough to figure out why I was here…
and how the hell I get out.
I couldn't stop thinking about what the cabbie said.
"Well... enjoy tonight. You'll be out by tomorrow."
And that follow-up line—
"Same time tomorrow, miss."
"You're not helping," I mumbled inside my head.
Who even was that guy?
A ghost whisperer?
A possessed Uber prophet?
"Great," I muttered inside Serena's very expensive Dior-scented body.
"Now I've got a countdown timer on my spiritual hijacking."
Also, just to confirm—I'm not a demon.
Serena doesn't even know I'm here.
She goes about her day like normal.
Which, apparently, means working at the hottest fashion magazine in the city.
And guess what? Her girlfriend, Natalie?
CEO.
A literal boss-and-staff romance.
The whole day passed in a blur of heels, models, iced coffees, and deadlines I didn't understand—including a ten-minute crisis where two designers threatened to commit emotional arson over a missing emerald-green sample dress that, spoiler, was hanging on a mannequin the entire time.
I have never seen grown adults fight so passionately about fabric.
And as night fell, I waited.
Just like the cabbie said.
When Serena finally fell asleep, cuddled in Natalie's arms like something out of a Pinterest dream board—I braced myself.
And just like that first time in the coffin…
The darkness came.
That same eerie, pressure-cooked void.
No body. No air. No space.
Just me.
I pushed.
Pushed like I did when I clawed out of death itself.
And…
I was out.
Hovering beside her bed.
Watching Serena sleep peacefully.
And for some reason, I felt… grateful.
Grateful for her life.
Her love.
Her world.
Even though I didn't ask for it.
I'd lived a thousand memories in a single day.
Loved someone.
Been loved back.
Laughed.
Smiled.
Hurt.
It was only one night, but I swear I grew a decade older in that borrowed skin.
"Thank you, Serena," I whispered.
"For letting me in. Even if you didn't know."
I floated out the window, swearing to myself I'd never go near another club again.
Ever.
And that's when I saw him.
Floating.
Just like me.
An old man.
Pale.
Still.
Almost serene.
He wasn't scary.
He looked like the ghost of a retired philosopher.
Or if your grandpa became a soul and still insisted on ironing his ghost robe.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to hug him.
I wasn't alone anymore.
But I was also terrified.
What if he wasn't like me?
What if he was the ghost boss?
A reaper?
A soul tax auditor?
But he just stood there.
Watching.
Calm.
And somehow, I knew…
He wasn't here to hurt me.
He was here to teach me.
"About time," I muttered.
"Let's see what's in store for me."
A part of me hoped it was answers.
Another part knew it was never that simple.