As soon as the two entered the apartment and Colby closed the door behind him, he was surprised that his hand didn't pass through it, but that didn't matter now. He hadn't let go of Taylor's hand the entire way back. "We're here. Are you ready to let go of me? It's okay if not," he asked sympathetically.

Taylor quickly pulled her hand back. "Why are you doing this?" She framed it more as an attack than a question.

"What do you mean?" Colby looked at her disappointedly but said nothing.

"You're a fuckboy. A white fuckboy. From the 2000s, where nobody gave a shit about mental health," she began angrily.

Colby looked at her, clearly hurt, but remained silent.

"I'm sorry for you, but I don't think I can help you. It's clearly too much for me. You saw that," she continued.

"Taylor..."

"No. I've made up my mind. You'll surely find someone else in this world who can see you. You have plenty of time now to find such a person. But count me out."

Colby pondered for a long time before finally responding. "Yeah. You're right. I'm a fuckboy. A massive fuckboy. But I'm not an asshole. I've slept with many. Like, a lot. I have the body of a god. I'm damn good at sports and fully aware of my effect on horny people. And am I proud of it? Fuck yeah, I am. Sure, I hook up with a lot of people. But only if they want to. I'm not an asshole. I don't force anyone or get pissed off if someone's not interested. I don't fill someone up just to drag them into my bed. Sure, I'll have drinks with people, but only for fun, and because I know the person. Life is just funnier when you're high or drunk. Even better when you're both. The point is, I don't take advantage of them. Trust me, I can seduce almost everyone, even when they're sober and can give me clear consent. Those tricks are beneath me. And if I do get someone drunk, I make sure to take care of them. I don't leave them alone or let them do anything stupid. I don't let them go off with just anyone. Often, I even drive them home. I understand fun. I'm damn funny and I'm fucking hot, like I said, I know that, but I'm not an asshole. I'm a good guy, Taylor. Okay, ghost. A good ghost. But. I'm. Not. An. Asshole. I've seen that you're not feeling great. Okay, not even seen. You wrote it to me. Do you really think I'm such a jerk that I'd ignore that, or what? Should I have laughed at you, huh? Well, if you expected that from your Ghost Boy, then I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. That's not who I am, it's not who I've ever been, and it's not who I'll ever be."

Taylor wanted to say something, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Am I here because you can see me? Of course! Wouldn't you? If nobody else can see you? Do you have any idea how that feels? I'm suddenly dead, and I don't know what the fuck is going on here, or if I'll ever get to the other side, or if it even exists, but I know I can't leave a suffering person alone. Sorry, but I'm staying." He sat down on the table he had thrown himself on earlier and crossed his arms.

Taylor did the same, looking down at the floor. She didn't want to look him in the eye now. "Go find someone else to satisfy your male savior complex."

"Nah." As soon as he uttered the short word, he made a terribly annoying popping sound and leaned his arms back on the table behind him. "Call the police if I annoy you. Maybe it'll work this time."

Taylor felt a rush of anger. But she knew he was right. She couldn't get rid of him. "Fine. Then stay here. But don't expect me to acknowledge you. And if you touch my stuff, you're dead. Again."

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"Fine," Colby mimicked her and grinned. "As you said, I've got plenty of time now."

But Taylor was already ignoring him, heading to the fridge.

"You must be pretty hungry," the grinning ghost remarked, but as promised, he was completely ignored. "I wonder how long you're going to keep this up."

She retrieved a cold pizza, tucked the box under her arm, closed the fridge, and grabbed a cola from the cabinet above. Then she settled on the couch, propped her feet higher than her head, and started Netflix on the TV.

Colby watched her with interest. "What's that big N? And why is it so terribly ugly?" Taylor started her comfort series: Superstore. "Holy shit, do all shows look this good now? Is that HD?"

"4K," she said casually, only realizing what she had said after the fact, or rather, that she had said something.

"AHA!" Colby exclaimed loudly, pointing at Taylor and leaping off the table. He joyfully hopped onto the couch from behind, which startled Taylor terribly. He nearly hit her with his legs. "So, how long did you ignore me? A whole minute? Two? You lasted quite a while."

Taylor rolled her eyes in annoyance. Normally, she would never watch her favorite series in front of others. The risk of someone making fun of her or Superstore was too great. But with him? After his little, okay, terribly long speech, she doubted that. And if so, she could always go with "I knew it."

"Do you want to know what Netflix is now or not?" she asked.

"Go ahead, eventually I have to learn something about the future. So let's start with Notfucks."

"Netflix. And the present."

"For you, maybe."

"The present isn't something that's different for everyone. Sorry, Ghost Boy." She hid a slight grin. "So, Netflix. Nothing indecent, even though some of those teen dramas really should be banned. You must have had places where you could rent movies, right?"

Colby stared at her perplexed. "Yeah? Video stores. Are you kidding?"

"No, sorry, but they're hardly around anymore. Instead, now there's Netflix. Or Disney+. Or Prime Video, Hulu, and whatnot. Actually, way too many providers. You pay a ridiculously overpriced fee and have access to their selection of movies and series from any device. Sometimes even annoying mobile games. Or GTA. It's a bit complicated."

The ghost was obviously struggling to keep up. "Gee... tee... a?"

"Ugh, you would definitely be one of those people who love GTA. Remind me never to show you that. Not in my apartment. So. You pay and get, for example with Netflix, a bunch of digital stuff. Borrowed, until your subscription expires. During that time, though, you can watch anything they have. That's how the movie business works nowadays. But it also means there are hardly any cool cases for your shelf anymore, or you never really own it. What I wouldn't give for a Blu-ray box set of Superstore."

"Sounds kinda less cool. But hey, if you like this Superstore, we'll go with that."

He stared intently at the TV, watching Glenn Sturgis accidentally drink an entire cup full of pistachio shells and then slowly spit them back out of his mouth. Could it be? Was he interested in Superstore? No, he would definitely make fun of how silly the show is any moment now. Quick, change the subject!

"What kind of series do you like?" she asked curtly. "Or movies?"

"Oh, do you have Finding Nemo? That came out, in my old present, just three days ago and I really wanted to see it. I'm such a sucker for Pixar. Monsters, Inc.? Fucking great."

"Of course, I also have Disney. Finding Nemo is a classic, and I actually think it's pretty great, sometimes," she said, quickly switching off Superstore and transitioning to Disney's streaming service. She decided to keep to herself for now the fact that Finding Nemo was one of her favorite Disney movies of all time. Pretty great sometimes, what an understatement.

"Do they have any other movies made by Disney?" Colby asked, staring intently at the screen as she typed the movie title into the search.

"What do you mean?"

"Disney and Pixar. Have they made any other movies together? They're so awesome."

"Pixar is Disney," she replied.

The movie started.

"No way! What?!" He almost jumped for joy.

"They weren't always part of the same thing?"

And there it was again. She had almost been expecting it. Colby's grin. "You might be able to teach me a lot about the present, Living Girl, but it looks like I have some lessons to give you about the past."