the debt of existence | choi yeonjun

SEPTEMBER

September brings a slight chill in the air, an ever-so subtle reminder that summer is now over—technically, not officially. You thought that by finishing the ground floor before summer ended, you'd be off the hook for the colder months, but once you managed to break down the door to the basement again and find the hidden handle that led to the attic you realized you were kinda-sorta fucked. There was no way you'd finish this any time soon.

After the day that Yeonjun disappeared on you, he'd only appeared every now and then, his voice weaker and more mature now, losing that childish Peter Pan-esque edge that you now realize he'd always harbored. It was like he'd sobered up, realized the weight of what was happening, almost. But he was still Yeonjun after all—which you now understood was a good thing, after recalling more and more fond memories with him.

He'd guided you around and into all of the boxes that were stuffed against the wall in your living room and the kitchen, pushed up against the sides of the hallway, hidden away underneath both the kitchen and bathroom sinks, and you realized that even though you'd said you wished he would stop annoying you, the company was actually quite nice. When Yeonjun wasn't making fun of you or berating you for smoking, he was good at holding a conversation. It was almost like you hadn't been apart for over ten years, almost like he was a real, live person—your friend, that wasn't a dead guy that inhabited your childhood home. Multiple times you caught yourself thinking that you should introduce him to Taehyun, that the two of them would get along quite well, before remembering what happened when they actually "met" that first and last time. It was bittersweet, remembering that Yeonjun couldn't be seen by most other people, and even if they could, in fact, see him, there was a very limited number of things you could do with him, seeing as how he couldn't leave the house or make physical contact with anyone or anything.

And once the ground floor was cleared out, sparkling like it was almost new, he was the one who showed you which kitchen drawer the key to the basement was kept in, almost identical to the key to the front door. You finally got around to getting a key ring for the two, even putting two charms on the ring alongside the old keys—one, a shitty little beaded trinket that you remembered making back in elementary school, and two, a little plastic ghost that you found at the dollar store. The day that you got it you showed it to Yeonjun, shaking it in front of his face as he glared at you. "It reminds me of you!" you said playfully as he sulked.

"I don't look like that," he insisted, "they've got it all wrong! What lame ass ghost looks like that?"

But you named it Yeonjun anyways, much to his distaste, and he eventually, begrudgingly, accepted it.

It's a warmer day when you finally return to begin clearing out the basement, and you aren't quite sure what to expect. Yeonjun had told you that it was pretty much the same situation as the ground floor, but a lot of them were opened and just filled with junk that was all garbage-worthy, so it wouldn't be too difficult to get through even though there were plenty of them. You show up to the house whistling a tune that you can't quite place, swinging your keys in one hand and carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies in the other.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Stop trying to scare me." You glare at Yeonjun's head that's poking through the front door—now repainted once again, properly this time.

"Just trying to have a little fun," he says, lips curling up into a smile. You can't help but smile too as you roll your eyes—you'd missed his silly side. It had disappeared a little after he saw you smoking. "Are you starting the basement today?" he asks, floating beside you as you shut the door behind you and walk down the hall to the basement door.

"Yep," you sigh, "and according to you... I have a lot to get through."

"I'll be keeping you company, don't worry doll," he says, saluting at you.