The Friendly Ghost Who: Lydia and Lance Where: The park, Sylvia's House When: Afternoon
Lance was definitely feeling better. Funk survived he was out and about, Sylvia’s umbrella in hand as he kept an eye out for her. He wasn’t really looking for her, but he had it, just in case so he could give it back. He tended to give back the things he didn’t need or the things that didn’t completely catch his eye. It was one thing to want something when you took it. It was something else to want to keep it. Opening up the umbrella as he strolled through the park, he couldn’t help but hum to himself, amused with everything because he actually wanted to be outside. The first day back was always a great one.
Lydia had little to do after class let out, so she’d gone to the park to walk and people watch. When there were people to wave to, she waved, and she was excited to see them wave back. She loved the feeling of being seen again, of feeling alive, even if she cast no shadow or had no heartbeat. Being able to walk through walls had it’s advantages, but it also prevented her from watching where she was going. She almost walked through Lance, barely catching his arm, her hand passing through him when she took a few steps back. “I’m soooo sorry! I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?”
And then unexpectedly he was being flash frozen to death. Through the leather jacket he always wore. Lance jerked his arm away with a small yelp, staring at the girl that had just attacked him with something though he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was she was killing his good mood. "What did you just do?"
“Nothing, nothing!” she said, trying to smile to make up for it. “I just wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” She definitely hoped he was okay. She didn’t know exactly how it felt, but she knew it tended to freak out people when it happened. Lydia took a few steps back, just to make sure she didn’t touch him again. “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.
Lance rubbed at his arm, frowning at her. The worst of it was gone, but it was still tingling pretty bad. "Yeah, but what did you do?" he said, pushing the umbrella back more as he looked at her closer. "What are you?" Since that didn't happen by accident and it wasn't like she was holding a freeze gun or something in her hands. Not that freeze guns were real. Or they weren't as far as Lance knew.
“I just ran into you,” Lydia said, smile wilting, then falling apart at his next question. “What do you mean?” Was it that easy to tell? Lydia’s hand went to her forehead as she began to panic, sure that the bullet hole was there. And in thinking about it, it was. Her fingers came back stained with blood and her shoulders dropped. “What do you think?”
“You ran into me?” Lance was confused, at least until she touched her head and he was left frowning. “You’re bleeding is what I think.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention,” she answered. She used to run into people all the time and they never even noticed. Or they did, but they had no explanation for it, so they couldn’t say anything aloud. “I was shot. Don’t worry, I won’t bleed on you.”
Lance frowned. “You were shot? Shouldn’t you be over at the hospital?” he asked, though something seemed off. Or maybe it just felt off. Whatever it was, it was weird. He looked at her again, drifting closer. “What are you?”
“Hospital can’t do much for me,” she said, her lips twisting into a small smile. He was funny. Probably because he was naive. But she liked it. When he asked again, she decided to give him a real answer because he didn’t seem to know. “I’m a ghost. What are you?”
Lance stared at her. “I’m starting to think I’m losing my fucking mind is what I am,” he admitted, shaking his head. Zania was a vampire and now he was chatting with a ghost. And honestly, he believed her. He didn’t see a reason not to. Crap was just insane. It was crazy. And maybe crazy was just supposed to be accepted.
“I can’t possibly be the first ghost you’ve seen. We were all over the place when the doors shut. We just blend in better now. Most of the time I pass for normal,” Lydia said. In fact, if she could stop thinking about being a ghost, that bullet hole might just go away for a bit. She didn’t know how or why it happened, but that seemed to be the case. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I really haven’t been paying attention and I was passed out when the doors shut.” Lance shrugged. “Though now that I know there are ghosts everywhere I’m starting to second guess other people I’ve seen.”
“Well, we’re not everywhere,” Lydia said with a small smile. “There’s still less of us than there are normal humans. Some stand out for what they are. Some blend in. I like to blend in, if I can.” All she wanted was to be normal, but that was hard sometimes.
“Blending’s boring anyway. I wouldn’t bother,” Lance said shrugging his shoulder. “So what else can you do besides giving me freezer burn?
“I went two years without being able to talk to anyone. I like feeling alive, even if I’m not. And if people know I’m dead, it kind of puts a damper on things,” Lydia said, hoping that made sense. She didn’t want to blend in and be like everyone else in the traditional sense, but more of a literal one. She wanted to appear alive. “I can walk through walls,” she said. “And I can disappear.”
Lance considered that then wound up nodding. “Point taken. I think you’re right. Two years of being bored out of your skull would justify wanting to be human-ish again.” He twirled the umbrella, more to do something, spinning circles around his head. “Those are useful skills. I know I’d enjoy that.”
“You’d enjoy it right up to the point where you realize that you can’t touch anyone,” she pointed out. “I can walk through walls because I have no physical form. But it also means I can’t hug someone, or save them if they’re in danger. I can’t be hurt, but I can’t help either.” And that was frustrating at times. At least she could alert someone, now that they could hear her.
Lance was of the belief that helping might be overrated, but he got what she meant. Not being able to touch anyone would suck. "Can't you, move on or something? Head into the white light?"
“The white light?” she asked with a little laugh. “If there was a light to walk into, I never saw it. I didn’t even realize I was dead at first. It was like I had a nightmare, then woke up, and everything was as it was. Except no one could hear me or see me.” And she’d eventually figured it out. It wasn’t a dream, or a nightmare. It was reality.
Lance considered that then shook his head. “That sounds like it sucks. Yeah, I kind of hope I die properly.” He couldn’t deal with being more invisible than he already was.
“I think most people do,” Lydia said, though she wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. “Otherwise there’d be ghosts running around everywhere. Instead there’s just a handful, at least in comparison to everyone that’s died.”
Lance considered it then noded. “Suppose so, yeah. Or we’d be overrun with ghosts.” Which sounded uncomfortable after knowing what it felt like to walk into one. It’d be awful to just be avoiding them all the time.
“Right,” Lydia said. “So any reason you think you’d become one?” The more they talked, the more comfortable she became, and she forgot about the gunshot wound on her forehead. As she forgot about it, it also began to fade, returning her to a normal looking girl.
He tilted his head as the bullet hole on her head faded. That was weird for sure. “Not that I can think of. Unless I leave some string of broken hearts behind.” Something tugged at the back of his mind, the thought that he might not be worth the breath he was breathing, but he was feeling too good to say that.
“If that were the case, I think it’d be the broken hearted who’d be more likely to become ghosts than you,” she said thoughtfully. She hadn’t met a lot of ghosts, but there was a theme there, and it was that they were the ones that held a grudge of some sort. They were holding on to something and couldn’t let go. “You break a lot of hearts, loverboy?”
“Valid point,” Lance said with a grin. He spun the umbrella and shook his head. “Nope. Not really. Or more, I don’t stick around long enough to find out if they’ve been broken.” That was far more his normal thing. Leaving town far too quickly.
“You must hate this setup, then,” Lydia said, looking just the normal girl now that they’d moved on from topics that made her remember she was dead. “No interest in seeing a girl more than once? What’s that about?” She didn’t understand people who didn’t want to connect with others, probably because she’d gone so long without anything. She’d never had a boyfriend and wasn’t sure she ever would, not in this state.
“Not loving it, no,” Lance said. “Depends on how spread out the times are. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s just not for me. I’m not great at commitment.” Which wasn’t so much that he wasn’t interested, he just wasn’t good at not flaking out on people.
“What does that really mean?” Lydia asked. “Like, you find yourself cheating on girls when you try? I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I’ve seen a lot. As far as I can tell, both guys and girls cheat, but it’s usually for different reasons.” She’d seen more than her fair share as a ghost, before people could see her. Relationships were always interesting. It was a bit like watching a soap opera.
He shook his head. “No more...I just stop showing up.” He wasn’t really ever in a place to cheat on people. That would require more than he usually gave. And sticking around. “What reasons do you see?”
“Oh. Well… I can see how that could ruin a relationship,” she nodded. Disappearing generally made it difficult to maintain anything, even friendship. Most people liked some kind of reliability, she’d noticed. “Guys cheat because they’re bored, or they’ve lost interest in the girl they’re seeing. Girls cheat because they’re not happy or they feel like something’s missing from the relationship they’re in.”
“Funny how you could fix that with talking about it. Or breaking up.” But people were stupid and didn’t do those sort of logical things. “Sounds like you see too much.”
“People don’t talk as much as they probably should,” she agreed. He was so right. Not just about the breaking up or talking, but that she did see too much. That’s what happened when all she could do was observe. “Things are better now that people can see me,” Lydia said with a small smile. “So, what’s with the umbrella?” It was kind of girly, not really the kind a guy might carry around.
“I suppose. Makes it harder to spy, doesn’t it?” That was a bummer. He could get used to being able to spy on people. Like maybe Jack. Lance forced that thought away, using Lydia’s question as a good distraction. “Oh this. It belongs to someone else. I borrowed it. I was hoping to find her and give it back to her. You haven’t seen an odd looking little blonde girl wandering about have you?”
“It does, but I’d rather be able to interact with people,” Lydia said, deciding to leave out the part where she could still go invisible when she wanted to. It might be handy to keep that card in her pocket. When he described the umbrella’s owner, Lydia instantly thought of Sylvia, but she was reluctant to tell him where she was. “I might have. Is her name Sylvia?”
“I guess. People are...useful.” But nothing more than that most of the time. “Yeah, that’s her. Know where I can find her?”
“Don’t you like being around people?” she asked. She hated the alternative, the loneliness. “She’s staying with me. I can take you to her house and you can drop it off there. How’d you end up with her umbrella?”
“I do and I don’t. Not like other people like being around people. Again, useful.” When Lydia said she could take him to Sylvia’s house, he nodded. “Yes. I’d like to give it back.” At her question he shrugged. “Borrowed it from her the other day. But I don’t need it.”
“Come on. This way,” Lydia said, turning towards Sylvia’s house. She’d just take it from him, but that would take so much energy that she didn’t think she could manage. “How do you know Sylvia?” she asked, a wee bit protective of her new friend.
“We met at the park,” Lance said. “Turns out, we feel the same way about people.” Which Lance had appreciated even if he hadn’t said it.
“That they’re useful?” she asked, not sure she followed. Sylvia was a bit different, but Lydia liked that about her. She was a vampire, which made her interesting, and she treated Lydia like she was normal, even when she wasn’t. Plus, she’d offered her her house, just so she could look a bit more normal. Lydia didn’t have a lot of friends and was excited to add Sylvia to the list.
“Mmm.” Lance confirmed. “Though I think she finds them more interesting than I do. I only find their things interesting.” He sometimes wondered about the people connected to them, but not as much as most might think. “She’s different. Which wasn’t bad.”
“Their things?” Lydia asked, feeling like she still wasn’t getting it. “Like her umbrella?” The more she thought about the umbrella, the more she wondered if it was for more than rain. In Victorian times they used them as a shield from the sun. Would that be enough for Sylvia to go out with? “I like that she’s different. And that she doesn’t care what I am. She picked up on things immediately that most people never notice. Like that I don’t have a shadow.”
“I was originally going for her shoe, but umbrella worked better.” He smiled and nodded. “Their things.” Lance looked behind Lydia, seeing that he had a shadow and she didn’t. “I don’t think I would have seen that one right away.” He nodded. “Not caring that you’re...dead is good. I suppose. Do people usually care?”
“Why her shoe?” she asked, trying to remember if there had been something distinct about Sylvia’s shoes that would have made one worth stealing. “I don’t know if they care as much as I do, but they usually treat me differently. Some are scared.” And it depended on her mood. When she was in a sour mood, people tended to have a physical reaction, as if they could feel it too.
“It dangling in my face,” he said smiling. “I was only scared because you were trying to kill me for a moment there.” He gave her a smirk, lighthearted about it. “I wouldn’t sweat it too much. There’s weird shit out there these days.”
“I was not!” Lydia said, distressed that he might think that until she caught his smirk. That was the last thing she wanted him to think, so she tended to be very sensitive about it. “It wouldn’t really hurt you,” she said with a little smile. “I’m just cold. I think all ghosts are.” At his mention of weird shit, she wondered if he knew about the other things in town, like the vampires and the werewolves. “What do you mean?” she asked, deciding to play dumb.
Lance just chuckled. “I felt like you were trying to freeze my skin off.” He was still teasing, but he didn’t let it get farther than that. “Just...the doors closing and not opening. Howls at night. I hear there’s even vampires.” He knew there were, but he wasn’t going to fully cop to that.
“I really wasn’t,” she said, biting at her bottom lip. Talking about the other stuff was a better idea, so she went with that, putting behind her the reminder that she couldn’t touch anyone ever again. “I think the howls are werewolves,” she grinned, knowing it was true. “We’re lucky they didn’t come find us on the full moon and rip us all to pieces.”
“Werewolves? That would be something else.” And Lance didn’t not believe it. He knew about vampires. “There were a bunch of people attacked by wolves the other night. Could be them.”
“Wouldn’t it?” she grinned. “It would make sense then that all that people who were bitten by those wolves became werewolves themselves. Did anyone survive?” She was pretty sure there were survivors, though the death toll had been high as well.
“I suppose some did. No one I talked to. Though who knows. I know a few people.” He smiled more, a grin that fit him very well. “I guess we’ll find out, Casper.”
“I am the friendly ghost,” she said with a smile. She didn’t mind that, since he seemed to mean well. “This is her house,” she said, leading him up the front walk. “You can leave it by the front door and I’ll let her know you came by.”
“You are. Very.” He looked at the house, tilting his head. “Or I could drop it inside.” He closed the umbrella and reached for his lock pick tools, heading to the door himself, sure Lydia would follow him.
“You could,” she said with a little frown. “But you haven’t been invited in.” She didn’t think Sylvia was home right now, still staying out in the woods, but that didn’t mean Lance was welcome to let himself in. “You can’t just break into someone’s house.”
Lance stuck the two instruments into the lock, listening carefully as it clicked into place and he grinned. “Apparently I can.” He smirked at her. “And you Casper, can come too and be my conscience. Little angel on my shoulder.” He opened the door and stepped in the cool, dark house, looking around, leaving the door open for the ghost.
“Well, of course I can come,” she said, walking through the wall beside the door, rather than the doorway itself. “This is my house, too. So don’t let me catch you stealing anything else.” Sylvia had told her she could live there in return for letting Sylvia take a room in the woods. Lydia liked it because the house made her feel like a normal person, and she’d protect it in any way she could.
Lance grinned, pulling the door shut, then looked around. He set the umbrella in the stand for umbrellas by the door. It fit nicely. He glanced at her. “You live here, too? Does that make sense? Do you have things? I’d rather steal yours than hers. I already took something of hers.” He smirked a little then looked around the house. “Well...this is different. Haven’t seen places like this since...just after the Zs.”
“I have things,” Lydia said a bit defensively as she watched him put the umbrella away. “We share the house, but that’s a new thing, so my stuff isn’t here. I don’t need much because I can’t sleep. Or eat. But I like to paint.” All her belongings were in the house in the woods, and that wasn’t much either. Her most treasured belonging, the one that controlled her power, was her gun. “Sylvia collects things,” she said with a little smile.
“What do you paint?” Lance asked, moving more into the house. “She doesn’t collect things, she collect antiques,” he corrected. Because some of the things were just old. Useless even. “I knew I liked her.” He could understand that. “Where’s she at, if she’s not here?”
“Anything. Everything,” she smiled. “The piece I’ve been working on I call dreams and nightmares. It’s everything I see when I close my eyes.” It didn’t matter that she didn’t sleep. Her imagination was just as active, and when she let her mind rest, it would wander. “She’s at my house.”
“What do you see when you close your eyes?” Lance asked not having heard someone word anything like that before. “Your house? Where’s your house, Casper?”
“Lights dancing in the forest. Spring melting into winter,” she said closing her eyes. “Eyes watching from the dark. Creatures waiting to bite. It’s amazing. Frightening. Beautiful.” They were her dreams as she saw them while awake. “I like you, but I don’t trust you,” she said, opening her eyes and looking back at him. “So I’m not going to tell you. Sylvia didn’t feel safe here. I won’t take anyone there without asking her first.”
He looked at her, head tilted to one side. “That wasn’t what I was expecting. Though you’re a ghost and you don’t sleep so I’m not sure what I should have been expecting.” Lance found himself nodding. “Not even to show me your artwork? It is your house.”
“I can still dream,” she said with a shy little smile. With all the supernatural elements coming to life around her, she could barely keep her imagination under control. “Not even to show you my work. But if you want to offer me up a wall in your own house, I’ll start painting you something. And I’ll tell Sylvia you were asking about her.”
“I don’t think my house would be a good canvas. And I don’t think Kenzie would get it.” Lance shrugged. “Do that. Tell her I would have rathered give the umbrella back in person and maybe we can finish our conversation.” He picked up a book, turning it over before setting it down. “But I do want to see your paintings.”
“Who’s Kenzie?” Lydia asked, thinking that any house would be a good canvas, so long as it had walls. “I’ll let her know. She might like that.” She knew Sylvia was short on friends, so maybe she’d be pleased to hear that someone wanted to see her. “Well… do you know anywhere else I can paint for you? The hard part is moving my supplies. It takes a great deal of effort for me to move things, which is why I usually stay in one place.”
“My cousin. And roommate. She’s all I’ve got now that we’re stuck in here.” Though honestly Kenzie was all Lance had in general. “The more you talk the more it sounds like you should let me come to that space. Or at least help you move your things here...if you’re staying here.” And she could find space.
“You’re lucky to have her,” she said, a little bit envious that he had someone. She missed her family and would have loved to have anyone around that remembered her. “Mmm, no,” Lydia said, shaking her head. “I need to talk to Sylvia first. I just can’t bring you there. I’m sorry. You might be the person she was trying to get away from.” Though Lydia didn’t remember Sylvia mentioning Lance. Maybe she’d forgotten.
“She’s hiding from someone? Who?” Lance didn’t like hearing that. He didn’t get massively invested in people, but if one person was running scared, then someone else could be a problem and make someone else scared. And that someone could be one of the few people he was actually invested in.
“I don’t know. She didn’t give me a name,” Lydia said. If she had, Lydia probably would have taken to haunting them, which might have been why Sylvia held back. “I think she’d be glad to see you again. I know she doesn’t have many friends. I just can’t take you there. Is there somewhere I can tell her to find you?”
Lance considered that then shrugged. “She can always drift by my place. I’m there a lot. I don’t do much else.” What else was he going to do?
“You don’t work?” Lydia asked. She didn’t, but she was a ghost. What would she do with money? She couldn’t even take it without it passing through her fingers.
“Um, no, not really. Used to be a trader, but then I got stuck and now...not so sure.” He shrugged and looked around as if Sylvia's house might have an answer, but it didn’t. “Haven’t found something I like. And I’m probably a more unreliable employee than I am boyfriend.”
“Well, you’ve gotta do something, otherwise you’ll run out of food… right?” That would’ve been her main concern if she were him. Food and shelter. She didn’t think they gave these houses away for free. “What do you like to do?” she asked, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa.
“Kenzie makes pretty good money.” And Lance supplied a little himself with his own sticky fingers. “Me? Smoke, drink...break into places.” Steal things. “I was a decent salesman at one point.”
“What does she do?” Lydia asked, nosey as ever. “I noticed you were rather good at the breaking into part. I’ve never been drunk. I’d like to figure out if I ever can be.” It would be a trick, that was for sure. But if she could pick up a paintbrush, maybe someday she could consume alcohol. “I guess it’s hard to be a salesman in here if you have nothing to sell.”
“She’s a whore,” Lance said plainly, not at all worried about it. There might be a better term, but that was the easiest one. And it wasn’t like Kenzie would really care. She’d probably say she fucked for a living. “Well if you ever want to try, let me know. And no, not much left to sell. I might work at this club, if I can convince the owner I don’t want to take her money improperly, but she’s still not sold on me as a whole.” But working at a club couldn’t be that taxing.
“Oh,” she said, not expecting that to be what his cousin did. While it made money, it wouldn’t have been her first choice in jobs, but… maybe some people liked it. “I may take you up on that,” she grinned, “the getting drunk part. And if you end up working at the club, I’ll come and visit.” She wanted to offer, even if she wasn’t sure that would work. She tended to put lights out and that was far more noticeable at night. “Why’s this girl not sold on you? Did you tell her you were going to steal from her or something?”
“Yup. Lucky for me, and my stomach, Kenzie’s good.” He grinned a little then shrugged his shoulders. “You should. I’m all down for a good bit of drinking. Same with the club.” At the question he shrugged, moving around before sitting on the couch, stretching out. “She knows a little more about me than I tell usually. But I think she likes me so I might luck out.”
Lydia hoped Lance knew that from the money his cousin brought in, not from experience. Because that would be weird. Though thinking of Lance like that… apparently a ghost could still blush. “I’ll practice drinking water, then, since I’m not entirely sure how to drink anymore,” she said with a smile. She liked the idea of getting drunk. It was a new experience and she didn’t get those often. “Well, I hope you get the job if you want it. But if you do, maybe don’t steal from her?” she said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, propped up so she didn’t accidentally touch him.
He caught the blush, raising one eyebrow at her. “What was that?” he asked gently, curious what she was thinking. If she was going to blush wouldn’t she blush over the part where Kenzie was a whore? “No? Forget how to swallow?” That was a weird thing. He supposed if she didn’t need to though, why remember? “I wouldn’t steal from her. There’s other things she has that I want.”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. She didn’t need to think of Lance like that. It wouldn’t get her anywhere. “It’s more that I really have to focus in order to interact with things. Like when I’m painting, I have to handle the paint brush. Most of the time my hands just go through things. Drinking is even more difficult because not only would I be picking up a bottle, but I want to drink it, not pour it through me.” And it wasn’t something she’d even tried, so she wasn’t going to waste it on alcohol until she’d tested her skills with water. “What kind of other things?”
“Liar.” Lance had no issues calling her out. It was kind of fun really. “Maybe we’ll get you something with a straw. Might be easier.” He leaned back on the couch more, shrugging. “She’s sexy in her own way. I like that. Don’t mind taking advantage of it.”
Lydia pressed her lips together, frustrated at being called out and not having a good response. What was she supposed to say? The truth was laughable and she didn’t want to be laughed at. But then he had to go and reveal his interest in the other girl and she found herself blushing again. “You want to sleep with her?”
“You’re still blushing. Why are you still blushing?” he asked, not answering her question just yet.
“I don’t know,” Lydia said, putting her hands to her cheeks, as if that would hide it. “I do that sometimes when I think of cute guys… doing it. It’s stupid.” She might have seen a lot in the past two years, but she was still very much a naive sixteen year old girl on that front. Death and murder and zombies she could handle. Sex, not so much.
Lance turned a little more, resting his chin in his hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. “Were you thinking of me doing it?” That was what it sounded like.
Lydia was sure she was turning bright red now, her cheeks burning beneath her hands as they crept up over her eyes. “Why does it matter?” she asked, highly embarrassed.
He was smiling, grinning. “Doesn’t. But I’m curious.” It was an interesting concept. So was the blush. “And saying that just means yes.”
“You’re just making it worse,” she said, fanning her face with her hands. How ridiculous was this? It was one of those times that she wanted to be invisible, and so she suddenly was, the space where she’d been sitting suddenly vacated. “You’re making fun of me,” she said, knowing he could hear her, if not see her.
He laughed a little and then she sort of poofed away. “I wasn’t doing anything of the sort. I was just curious. Not every day you make a ghost blush.”
“I’m a ghost, but I’m still a girl,” she said, biting her bottom lip for a second, still invisible. “I’m sure you make girls blush all the time.” He was cute enough to do it whenever he wanted, if he put his mind to it.
He laughed again and shook his head. “I don’t. Well...not in a while. The girls around here are different than the girls out there.”
“Different how?” she asked as she popped back into visibility. “I know things are worse out there. Rougher. But I’m sure I’m not the only virgin alive. Or… dead. Whatever.”
“No, I doubt you’re the only one. There’s a school full of young kids.” Not that he’d still had his when he graduated from high school, but that wasn’t the point. “It’s just different. People don’t let the stupid shit bother them as much. The concept of sex isn’t embarrassing. It just is.”
“Great. So it’s me and the third graders,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes. “I guess I don’t see it as stupid shit, as you put it. I don’t know why it embarrasses me. It just does,” she shrugged. It was an unknown and it involved being intimate with a boy, something she’d never had.
“Well,” Lance said thinking about it. “That’s just it. People here don’t. They think it’s all like it used to be. Sex was something to be ashamed of. Now...out there...no one cares. Because death by being eaten alive is just waiting.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing, though,” Lydia said. “Do you think it’s good that it doesn’t mean anything to anyone? I guess I feel like it should be special, and maybe that’s me being naive. Being dead hasn’t changed that for me, but maybe the fear of death would.”
“I guess for me, it’s easier when people aren’t always judging you by it.” Especially given his moments of his interest in other people betrayed his own better judgements from time to time. The last thing he needed was that mattering more than it did to him.
“I wasn’t judging you by it,” Lydia clarified. “I just think that, for me, it would have to mean something. Which is maybe silly for someone who can’t really have it unless it’s with another ghost.” And she really couldn’t see it happening with Cody, cute as he was. He’d probably laugh at her.
“No sexy guy ghosts wandering around?” Lance asked, wondering how that worked. At least it would be less shocking than that freezing to death thing she did. “I get that. It meaning something. I guess maybe I thought that too, but not really. It’s just a thing. I think I hoped it would be more than it was, but not so much.”
“I know one, but he can be kind of a downer,” she said. Plus, most of the time Cody could be kind of gross looking. He looked dead more often than she did. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Did you want it to mean something and it turned out it didn’t?”
“Well he is dead,” Lance pointed out. “That might make anyone a little less than chipper.” He shook his head, leaning it back in his hand. “Always went into it, thinking it’d fix things, or change things and all it did was make you feel really good for a little while and then you figure out how you feel about it afterward. Nothing life altering.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” she sighed. “I try not to let it get to me, but sometimes it’s hard to escape.” On a good day, she could easily pass for human all day and it made her feel great, but other days everyone she came across could feel the vibe she put out. It made everyone about as bitter as she was. “I don’t think sex can fix things. Sure, it makes you feel good physically, but it’s never going to be life altering if there’s no emotional connection… right? I guess that’s what I’ve always thought. Like, I don’t expect sex with a friend to be mind-blowing, but maybe I’m wrong.”
“Most mind-blowing sex I’ve had has been with strangers. No inhibitions, no expectations, and you just let go. That’s fun. You might regret it later, but it’s always good at the time.” He had a few like that, mostly the few men he’d lost his resolve around and dabbled with. He hated himself for those moments of weakness, no matter how amazing they’d been. “It can be life altering, just not in the way you’d think.”
“I don’t know if it’s worth it if I regret it later, but I’ll take it under consideration,” she told him with a little smile. She could see herself enjoying the time with a guy, but then it becoming uncomfortable any time she saw him later, especially if she grew attached and he wasn’t interested in anything more. Then she’d probably just end up with someone else to haunt. “Is there anyone you regret having sex with? Like, no matter how good it was, you wish you hadn’t done it?”
“Anything’s worth consideration,” Lance said with a little smirk. When she asked her question particular faces flashed into his mind, the same ones that haunted his dreams and wandered their way into his fantasies. “Yes. There are.” He didn’t give her more and hoped she didn’t pry. There was no way to explain why he’d been drawn to those men and why he, a guy who liked women, had wanted so bad to get into bed with them.
Lydia wasn’t going to push on his regrets. She just wanted to know if he had them, because that meant his philosophy wasn’t one she wanted to adopt. It might work for him, if he was okay with that, but it definitely wasn’t for her. “That’s what I want to avoid,” she sighed. “I don’t know what I’d have to go through to be able to have sex at this point, so if it happens, I want it to be worth it. I don’t want to regret a second of it.”
“I think my regrets are for different reasons, but I suppose I follow your logic,” Lance said with a shrug. “And it’s not everything like they say. There’s other things that are nice too.” Sex was just the easiest.
“What do you mean?” she asked, head tilting to the side. She knew there were things a couple could do together that weren’t sex, but she felt like he might be saying something else. Or she could be wrong.
“Drinking. Getting stoned. Food sometimes, if it’s good,” Lance said, mind thinking along the lines of other things that felt good, not things to do with relationships. He didn’t have relationships and wouldn’t know the first thing about them anyway.
“I can’t drink or eat, but maybe I could get stoned,” Lydia said thoughtfully. She could still smell things, which meant she should be able to inhale, right? It didn’t really make sense to her, since they should all be the same, which made her wonder if there was a psychological aspect to what she could do. “You smoke pot, or something heavier?”
Lance laughed to himself. “You name it, I’ve probably tried it. Lately, it’s just pot, but I miss X. X was good.” Drop it, get high off his ass then dance all night and not care about all the shit that weighed him down in his head. It was a great feeling.
“How did you even get your hands on stuff like that?” Lydia realized that she’d probably lived a very sheltered life up till the zombies came, but then she’d only been fourteen. Maybe she should have been willing to take anything given to her once the zombies were out, but she’d been trying to be safe. All that got her was a bullet to the brain.
“Before the Zs? There was a guy in our hometown who you could get just about anything from. Drugs are rampant in the middle of nowhere. Especially if you like meth, but I knew better than to get involved with that. That shit’ll fuck you up. And not in a good way.” He shook his head. “After the Zs...not as easy. Here and there. Now you can get it in the domes. Not this one, but other ones. Everything’s got a price.”
“At least you know what to stay away from,” she said with a little laugh. She knew next to nothing about drugs, which would have made her reluctant to try them if she still could. “I guess there are still people out there that know how to make it, if they can get what they need to do so. I think that would be the hard part, the supplies.” It was hard to find chocolate, so she couldn’t imagine how difficult it might be to find what one needed to make ecstasy.
“People hold on to the strangest shit, saving it for a rainy day.” Lance shrugged. “You can get whatever you might need in the end, you just have to be willing to pay the price. Not a lot of people are willing to pay the price.” There was a shit ton of people just sitting on stuff, hoarding it, just in case, ready to sell it when someone really needed it.
“That means I could get my hands on anything, if I could learn how to pocket it,” Lydia said with a little smile. Sometime she could manage it, pick up an item and put it in her pocket and make it stick. She’d done it with her gun, taking it back from Justin, and she could do it with her paint brush. “That’s the fun part about being a ghost. No one can see me if I don’t want them to.”
“See, that’d be useful. I could work with being invisible. I’m good, but not being able to see me at all would be that much better.” He’d been stealing things longer than he’d been doing almost anything else, so the idea was more of a bonus on top of skills he’d perfected. “If you could take anything what would it be?”
“Hmm… I’m not really much of a thief, and I don’t have much use for things, but I like books and painting supplies. And pretty pieces of jewelry. I like to decorate my room and make it feel like mine,” she said, casting a glance around Sylvia’s place. Sylvia had more stuff than Lydia felt like she could ever amass. “I don’t think I really have a mind for stealing things. What I want tends not to be physical. What about you?”
Lance made a mental note of the list, just in case he came across something. That was the trader in him, listening to requests that people didn’t realize they were making and fulfilling them. “Me? I never had much of anything, so I took what I needed. And I never stopped. I don’t want a lot. Just not to starve.”
“If I needed food and was starving, I think I could see myself stealing that,” she said, nodding in understanding. It wasn’t something she needed these days, so it hadn’t crossed her mind. She had worried about it when she was alone, after the zombies attacked. People didn’t want to share their food with a kid who could barely defend herself. “Do you still worry about starving?” she asked, a bit concerned for him.
“Yeah, you do some crazy shit when you don’t have other options.” Lance hadn’t ever been quite to the full-on starving, but there had been points when he and Kenzie had nothing and his father had drank away the last of their money. Sometimes you just wanted something that tasted better than the stale food in the pantry that had to hold out until the man got paid again. “Not as much. We did well out there.”
“That’s good. I hope you do well in here, too. I know it’s different. I like it better, because it feels normal to me, but normal’s different for everyone.” As a trader with nothing to trade, she worried about him. She hoped he was able to get that job at the club. If not, maybe she’d try and steal food for him, if it was necessary.
Lance thought about it then nodded. “It might be. It’s safer.” That was for sure with his father locked outside. The biggest threat in Lance’s life wasn’t the zombies, but the man that had raised him. “It’s just...stationary. After we left where we were from...I was determined never to stick to the same place. Never again.”
“Why?” she asked. “Is someone chasing you?” She could understand never wanting to go home again, if there were bad memories there, but there was no reason to keep moving unless… “Or are you trying to avoid putting down roots? Like, people really can’t get to know you, or you them, if you don’t stay in one place long enough.”
The only thing chasing Lance were his own demons and he never got very far away from those. “No. We lived in a black hole. The kind of place we always swore we’d leave, but we never did. It took zombies destroying it for us to leave.” He shook his head, dragging his fingers through his curls. “I don’t want to get stuck again.”
“I guess I get that,” she said. “In this case, everyone’s stuck. Does that make it better or worse?” She thought it might be better, since he wasn’t alone in being trapped, but that might make him even more claustrophobic. “It might be interesting to walk outside the dome and see if something out there is causing the problem, but then I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Worse,” Lance told her without hesitation. “Because not everyone is bothered by it. They don’t mind. It’s business as usual and you realize just how many people are fine with this. With being stuck in here. And it’s sickening.” He shook his head and got up, pacing so he could move. The talk of being stuck was making him antsy. “You could tell someone. Not sure who, but someone.”
“I don’t know if anyone’s fine with it,” she said thoughtfully. “But I do think they push it to the back of their minds because they can’t do anything about it. It’s frustrating to worry over something you’re helpless against.” That seemed to be the story of her life these days. She wanted to help people, but couldn’t. All she could do was talk and observe. “I’ll give it a go one day. See what I can see.”
“That’s how people handle everything. Push it away and hope for the best. What a stupid way to live.” He shook his head but didn’t say anything else, slowing his steps as he went back to looking at Sylvia’s things.
“We all do it,” she said, watching him. He was definitely starting to get agitated, though she wasn’t sure why this particular issue bothered him so much. “Don’t you have things that you push back? That you don’t want to talk about? Sometimes it seems easier to ignore things.”
Lance’s shoulders tightened with the physical tension of the things that he pushed back. So many things. “Yes. Of course.” The abuse, the attractions he wished he didn’t have, the sense of always being a failure. All of that was pushed back on a daily basis.
“Then don’t put everyone else down for it,” she said lightly. “It’s a defense mechanism. And hope is a good thing. I think you’ve lost everything when you’ve lost hope. Even I have it, and I’m dead.” She didn’t have it every day, but sometimes was better than never.
Lance wrapped his arms around himself and shrugged, an odd motion. “Maybe it is.” If it was, it was his simplest one. The rest were far more complicated and far more impressive. “I guess it all depends on what you have hope for.”
“What do you hope for?” she asked, since he was right, that did matter. Lydia knew she’d never be human again, but she still had things that made her happy. If she could keep hold of those, then she didn’t mind what she was. Maybe one day she’d even be able to forgive Justin for what he did to her.
He glanced back at her, considering that then shrugging. “That it gets better.” That had always been what he’d hoped for, that things would get better. Some days, they did, others, he was spiralling back down to where he started.
“That what gets better?” she asked. There was so much out there that had room to improve that she needed more than that. She didn’t think he was hoping for the world in general, though she could understand if he was.
“Life,” Lance landed on. “Mine. That the things that suck and drag me down go away.”
“You seem like a pretty upbeat person,” Lydia said. “What is it about your life that you think sucks?” It was a sensitive question for her, as someone who no longer had a life. She tended to be rather bitter when she didn’t think the answer she got was good enough reason for someone to be bothered by it.
Lance just grinned and shook his head. “Not today. Like you said, upbeat.” He didn’t need to get drug back down into his rut again. “Maybe you’ll see me on a different day and I’ll be willing to tell. For now Casper, you know enough secrets.” Lance looked around the room again then started towards the door. “And I think I’ve visited Miss Sylvia’s things long enough. Staying or going?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said, letting him go on this one. If he really did have reasons to be so down on himself, she didn’t want to drag him into it. A part of her hoped they were real reasons and that he wasn’t like everyone else, whining about stupid, mundane things that they should be glad to experience. “I’m going to stay a bit longer, try and get some homework done. But you should come back and visit sometime. Or I’ll come find you. It was nice hanging out with you.”
Lanced looked around the treasure trove of a house and grinned. “I’m sure I’ll be back. Don’t forget to tell our friend I said hello.” He smiled once more then let himself out, pulling the door shut behind him and picking up the humming to himself again as he headed back towards his house.
“I won’t forget. Bye, Lance!” she said, giving him a wave as he headed out. That was a surprisingly nice experience with someone that was still alive, the kind she didn’t have often. She’d have to ask Sylvia about him the next time she saw him and let her know he’d returned her umbrella. She was sure she’d appreciate it.