It wasn't fair.

Kieran was a stuck up, secretive ass, Jack was a coward, and Lindsey was bored out of her mind.

She had already exhausted herself on Black Friday, happily conversing with customers and reveling in the interaction. She had loved every moment of it, but had she known what Small Business Saturday was, she would have waited.

Kieran had insisted that not running any specials would keep people disinterested, but he'd been proven wrong within the first hour of opening.

A lull came, and Lindsey manifested as a shadow beneath the register counter. She poked at Kieran's leg repeatedly, ignoring the swift kick to what should have been her hip.

"Can you move me to the back?" she asked.

"Why?"

"It looks like the salon behind us finally opened. I wanna watch haircuts."

"I thought you were keeping an eye on shoplifters," said Kieran. He looked over the surrounding glass cases, many now covered in fingerprints.

"I already spooked one." Spooking was about all she could do in her current state. Whispers, cold spots, and light tugging. She couldn't go full out and pop up beside her victims until she had a good rest. "And as if you actually care. That ugly ring from this morning'll cover half the shit in here."

Kieran shifted in his chair and leaned back. "I'm enjoying my few moments of sitting down."

"I'll leave the cupboards alone for a week."

"Only the cupboards?" Kieran bent down to glare at the cold shadow resting on his feet.

"I'll shut up at night," Lindsey added reluctantly.

Kieran reached through Lindsey's head and picked up a small box sitting on a shelf beneath the register. He quickly checked the foot traffic in front of the shop before heading to the backroom.

Lindsey followed and watched, barely keeping her excitement to herself, as Kieran opened the box and pulled out her grandmother's locket. "The north corner should work," she said, moving through the boxes lining the back wall.

Kieran nodded and eyed the corner. He settled on hanging the gold locket from the broken wing of a cuckoo clock. "Don't have too much fun," he warned before heading back into the shop, closing the door behind him.

Lindsey passed through the brick wall and into the alley, happily heading for the new salon. So far, she'd only been able to poke around the storage room and examine all the boxes of hair products. It had gone from a crowded mess to an organized collection of everything she never knew she needed for her spectral hair.

Stepping into the salon, she marveled at the line of white sinks beside her. Low conversations filled the air, and she already had her eye on a particularly animated woman near the front. She moved through the counter, taking in the messy state of a few stations.

Divorce and dog vomit hadn't been what Lindsey was expecting for her chosen entertainment, but she was all set to learn more about how sickly dogs were better companions than men. And at this point in her afterlife, she couldn't agree more. She perched on the edge of the counter, steering clear of the hairdresser's reach and looked around at the posters of outlandish haircuts.

Her eyes fell upon a familiar young man standing by the register. The pretty blonde woman beside Jack paid the cashier as he fidgeted and stared at a plant sitting beside the register.

Lindsey hopped down and hurried over to take in Jack's new appearance. His face was no longer hidden by his grunge-wannabe hair, and his clothing was fitted and new. Slim jeans, a dark green turtleneck, and a black peacoat. The first thought she had was that Kieran would love it.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

If Jack ever grew a pair and showed up again. Or if Kieran would get off his ass and make an effort at winning Jack back.

She followed the pair out of the salon, eagerly eavesdropping, and hoping they would make their way to Kieran's shop. She would love for Jack to parade himself right in front of the store and rub his new look in Kieran's face.

"I look stupid," Jack hissed the moment they were out the door.

"You look great."

Lindsey had to agree with Jack's friend. He looked so much better. She resisted whispering her sentiments into his ear.

"People are looking at me."

"Because you look great."

"You said a haircut would make me feel better." Jack popped the collar of his peacoat up and attempted to shrink into it. He huffed shallowly and smoothed the collar back down as he hunched his shoulders.

"I said it makes me feel better, and you should try it. I think it'll do you good. Opening doors. The—"

"Don't you dare mention any cards," Jack snapped, pulling on his sleeves and glaring at them as he clenched a fist. He sighed heavily and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"How about a stone?"

They reached the street corner, and Lindsey hit the edge of her range. She watched helplessly as Jack walked away, complaining about the cold.

No visiting Kieran. No stopping by to see if Lindsey was doing okay and hadn't been sold off. She couldn't really blame Jack for not wanting to stop by. She wouldn't want to see a ghost who looked like her, either.

She moped about on the corner until a light tingle grazed her core. She looked over, catching sight of a man wandering aimlessly in the street. She narrowed her eyes as he paused and slowly turned toward her. Blood poured from his mouth, mixing with the multiple wounds spread across his chest. The poor guy had apparently been shot in the head, too.

Someone went a little overboard.

"Um… Dude, just so's you know… You're kinda dead," she called out.

"Yeah. I noticed," he flatly replied. "You look like a train wreck."

"You should see the train." Lindsey ran her eyes over the other ghost. He was looking particularly transparent. "You need to reach anyone? I'm a decent poltergeist. I can send a message."

"No. Yes… Need to find… She was Renaud when I saw her last." He flickered and shook his head. "Damnit. Leave it, asshole!"

"Follow me. I have connections. I can write it down for you. Got a name?"

He slowly nodded as he stumbled toward her. "Thomas."

The roaming ghosts didn't last long, unable to anchor themselves to anything sentimental within the physical world. As much as Lindsey envied their ability to move on, she was happy enough to stick around and watch her shows. One more season turned into a new series, which only led to more seasons, shows, and spin-offs.

And then she discovered streaming services that had her old favorites. The mortal realm would forever be her home.

They reached the backroom of Kieran's shop, and Lindsey led the way through the closed door to the register. Thomas followed at a slower pace, looking around in confusion at the stacks of boxes. He paused as he passed a grandfather clock, narrowing his eyes at its brightly polished wood.

Lindsey poked at Kieran's back pocket until he pulled his phone out, radiating irritation as he set it behind a small display case of porcelain figures. He put on a charming smile when an older woman approached with a leatherbound book.

Lindsey concentrated as she opened up a note app and carefully picked out the letters.

g mesg 4 rennoh?

looks bad, gang related?

She looked up expectantly, but found her mystery ghost to be staring at Kieran.

"Kieran? Y-you…"

"Hey, Tommy. Focus. What's your message?" She watched helplessly with her mouth ajar as Thomas wavered and vanished. "Oh, c'mon. Would it've killed you to stick around for two more seconds?!"

She stared down at her short message, feeling dejected.

Kieran finished ringing up the woman and glanced down at his phone, a concerned frown forming. "Renaud? Is there a first name?" he asked under his breath.

She picked out a few more words.

gone now, knew u

name was thomas

She looked back at Kieran and wondered if he was more pale than usual.

image [https://i.imgur.com/eZY0YUq.png]