It is very easy to get caught up in the moment when you were following the actions for a fifteen year old eternally stuck in his youth. Fisher might have been almost twice as old as the dead companion with him, but he hadn't had fun in years. And this was fun, the two of them jumping on the bed, singing loudly. They actually harmonized pretty well, though all Will would hear was Fisher's deeper, in tune but nothing to write home about dulcet tones.
The singing pair managed to get halfway through the song before Fisher turned to face outward in his room, spotted someone that was either a made up guy or a really tall woman, and froze, mouth hanging open slightly, all color gone from his already pallor complexion. There was dead silence in the room, until the ghost next to him started cracking up. "I..." Fisher said weakly, but nothing else came out.
"Shit, oh shit, I'm gonna cross over laughing so hard!!" the ghost squealed, fallen to the bed and clutching his sides. Still staring at Will a moment, Fisher finally forced himself to move, doing the only thing sensible he could think of- dropping down onto the mattress and pulling his sheet up over his head.