seven

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ALEX NEEDED TO CLEAR HIS HEAD.

Walking usually helped so that's what he tried, heading to downtown Hollywood. In his mind, he conducted a countdown starting with five things he could see. A small family gathered around a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, terrazzo and brass stars embedded in the sidewalks, a man in a green jacket sweeping up trash, a person dressed as a chicken and handing out flyers, and people entering high-end clothing stores.

Alex could feel the pavement under his feet, his hands in his pockets, a strand of his hair tickling his cheek, and the rough yet comfortable fabric of the denim shirt over his purple tee.

He heard a siren off in the distance, a man giving directions, and the chime of a bell as someone exited a store. He smelled the coffee in the hands of a couple as they walked past him as well as a pretzel a little girl ate with her mom. Then, he could taste the lingering mint in his mouth from when he successfully managed to brush his teeth that morning. He might've been dead, but he cared about hygiene.

One thing he didn't notice, though, was skate who, apparently, didn't see him either. The two collided, collapsing onto the concrete with a groan.

Alex took a second before he stood back up and winced, feeling his muscles ache. The guy, who looked to be around his age in a helmet and long-sleeves, appeared more upset about his skateboard and brushed off his own injuries. "Oh, man, you dinged my board!"

"I dinged your board?" Alex echoed in disbelief. "Dude, you ran me over! You're lucky I didn't—" Alex stopped himself, realization striking him. "Y-Y-You...you...you ran me over. You're a ghost?"

"Um, yeah," the guy shot him a strange look and unclipped the strap of his helmet, taking it off to reveal very long brown hair that reached past his shoulders. "Ever since I learned the hard way that skating in traffic was bad."

Alex's lips parted, surprised at how handsome the skater actually was.

"Hey, sorry I, uh, smashed into you," he apologized. "I thought you were a lifer and I'd just pass right through."

Alex snapped out of his trance, catching one of the guy's words. "A lifer?"

The skater tilted his head, confused as to how Alex didn't know. "Yeah, that's, uh...that's what we call people who are living. You're new to this whole ghost thing, aren't you?"

Alex scoffed, shyly putting his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, is it that obvious?"

"Totally."

The two chuckled, Alex feeling more comfortable than he had when they first met. The skater held out his hand and offered a warm smile. "Hey, I'm, uh, I'm Willie."

"Oh, uh, Alex," the drummer replied and shook his hand. They looked at each other for a moment, before breaking their hands apart.

Willie cleared his throat and looked around the street they stood on. "So, um, what brings you to Hollywood, man?" he asked. "You sightseeing? A picture with that, uh," he clicked his tongue and motioned to the impersonator behind them. "Marilyn girl?"

"Actually, I was having a minor afterlife crisis," Alex replied truthfully, his lips quirking up into a grin. "So, you know, just clearing my head until you tried to crack it open."

imagination || julie and the phantomsWhere stories live. Discover now