𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 | ʙᴛs ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇs

-Phantom Phonies-

"You two are the first ghost hunters to make me question my own existence."

♛

–NAOMI

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from running Phantom Phonies, it’s that people really want to believe in ghosts. Give them a flickering light, an unexplained whisper, and a host who screams like his life depends on it, and they’ll eat it up.

That’s where Hoseok and I come in.

For two years now, we’ve been running our so-called “paranormal investigation” channel, tricking the internet into thinking we’ve uncovered the supernatural. In reality, our ghost encounters are about as real as my grandma’s online shopping addiction. Our special effects include a fishing wire, a mini fog machine, and some solid acting skills—well, mine are solid. Hoseok just panics naturally, which works in our favor.

Tonight’s masterpiece? A haunted theater.

We’re standing in front of the crumbling entrance of the Grand Marigold Theatre, a place that has been abandoned for so long, even the graffiti looks faded. The marquee sign above us is missing half its letters, leaving behind something that vaguely spells “G R _ D M _ R _ G _ L _.” It’s perfect.

“Tell me why we couldn’t fake hauntings in a nice, well-lit café for once?” Hoseok mutters, holding the camera while swatting at the air. “Also, is it just me, or is that cricket abnormally loud?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re scared of insects now?”

“Now? I’ve always been scared of insects! They have too many legs, Naomi! No one needs that many legs!”

I ignore his existential crisis over crickets and push open the rusted double doors. The inside is just as eerie as expected—dusty red seats, cobwebbed chandeliers, and a stage covered in forgotten props. Moonlight streams through the broken windows, casting creepy shadows that’ll look great on camera.

“Alright,” I say, setting up our ‘haunting’ scene. “Hidden fan?”

“Check.”

“Fishing wire?”

“Check.”

“Unnecessary dramatic backstory to make the audience invested?”

Hoseok clears his throat and puts on his best narrator voice. ‘Legend says the Grand Marigold Theatre is haunted by the ghost of a failed magician, doomed to wander the stage for eternity after botching her final trick…’

I grin. “Perfect.”

Now all that’s left is to fake the ghostly encounter, get a bunch of views, and call it a night. Easy.

Or at least… that’s what we thought.

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–HOSEOK

I don’t know why I agreed to this.

Scratch that—I do know why. Naomi dragged me into this disaster of a YouTube channel two years ago, promising "easy money" and "zero actual ghosts," and like an idiot, I believed her. I should’ve known better. She lies for a living.