Chapter 3

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Your POV:

Sun spills in through the gaps of his curtain, thin streams of light spreading across the floor. With my curiosity heightened I follow them, tugging the curtain slightly to peek outside. I couldn't help but stare in awe; colours of orange and pink bleed into each other as far as the eye can see, hints of purple in the corners with dabs of white clouds spread across the sky. Birds fly and flutter past, their melodies and even their noisy screeches somewhat coordinated.

I've never seen a sun rise, the sky is just stalactites and a blanket of murky grey fog in the underworld.

My mouth hangs agape as my gaze travels from the sky to the city below us, his house seems to be rather high up, from where I stand I can see the top of cars in every colour driving by, disappearing into the maze of concrete buildings. Little shops line the pavements that the ant-like people in varying clothes hustled about in, even from this distance each shop stood out as it's own.

The world above is so colourful, mortals sure are lucky.

Leaving the window, I look back at his empty room. He still hasn't returned, perhaps I should have followed him. Ah, no perhaps he needs some alone time to digest all this, it must be rather shocking for him. He surely has a ton of questions ...I have some of my own too, none of his friends were able to see me last night but the potion is only meant to transport me to my designated human, not make me only visible to him as well. I suppose I could use this added feature to my advantage, mortals can't turn invisible last I checked so he must believe me now.

Strolling around his room, at first glance all I find clothes, jewellery and messy papers everywhere. Even his wall has little sticky notes and other papers haphazardly stuck onto it, it isn't until one of those papers come loose and flutter to the ground do I really pay attention to the wall in front of his small desk.

A picture is pasted, several really. Too detailed to be a painting but a little faded round the edges, this must be one of those colour photographs. 7 boys seated round a long table, the date 13.06.2013 in the corner.

These look like the younger versions of Jimin and his 6 friends from yesterday, they're all smiling and laughing in this picture.

Another photo just had 3 of them, their hair colours different now, one of them upside down?

I find more and more photos, most partially hidden behind papers all with their corresponding dates. He has photos from each year, 2012 onwards, except one. Adjusting the papers back as they were, I try looking around the room, maybe he kept those photos somewhere else?

Before I could look around his door creaks open, a haggard lump dragging it's feet in. He's got a blanket draped over him, only his tired face and feet peeking out from the grey cloth bundled around him.

"Hi?" I try waving once more.

He's startled, as if he's forgotten about my existence but he eventually just nods my way, trudging towards his bed and collapsing into it.

This is strange, he's very calm now.

Barely a second goes by before his blanket flies off. His upperbody springing upright, gaze landing on me once more. In mere seconds all seven stages of grief flutter past his face.

He sits on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, mumbling incoherently once again.

Humans seem less agreeable in the mornings, I've got to remember this for future to avoid troubling him in the mornings to come.

Like the previous night he brings out his phone once more, typing before showing me the screen.

'I'll pay you double of what the candid cam people are paying'

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