the emøtiønal

my name is blurryface

Josh wouldn't consider himself "gifted" in the slightest, not by any definition of the word. He was just some college kid who could see spirits and entities. No big deal.Half the time it was old ghosts who didn't have a  clue as to what was going on. Sometimes it was a younger ghost, younger as in died recently & younger as in actual age. In the past, he had stayed up a few nights just talking to the ghosts of suicidal teens who were successful with their suicide attempts. He tried to help them as much as he could, seeing as they were already dead. The usual advice was for them to go see everyone's reactions, to see how much they would be missed. That usually worked out. Sometimes he'd get a more evil, demonic being. Usually it would throw stuff and fuck up his apartment, but that was about it. Originally, it scared Josh shitless, but as time went on, it just pissed him off.

When he wasn't being the ghost whisperer, he was busy with typical things. Studying for college exams, drowning in debt, and working at some pretentious hipster café that would swear it was different from Starbucks but truthfully it wasn't. It was a typical night at work for Josh. He was ready to close up & go home, until one prick decided to come in 5 minutes before closing time and order a 'venti salted caramel frappe, extra caramel, no whip cream.' Josh inwardly groaned as he took the equipment he had just cleaned and used it to make this guy's drink. Josh silently wondered how pretentious of a person someone would have to be to do this? The man had to know that this was extremely dickish to do, especially to some college kid who just wanted to go home already. Who gets coffee this late at night anyway? Regardless, whether Josh liked it or not, it was the job he chose. Chose is a term used loosely, he had no other choice. College is expensive, and student loans don't help - arguably, they make things worse.

The man got his drink, and Josh had to clean all over again. He would have complained more but the stranger left a pretty generous tip. Whether he meant to leave that much or not, Josh was keeping it. He deserved it for having even served someone a drink that close to closing time.

The drive home was quiet, only the stereo's soft hum played in Josh's car. A few times he felt himself drifting off to sleep while driving, and regretted taking naps the past few days as opposed to sleeping through the night like a normal person. He assumed he just liked feeling exhausted apparently. He still got home safely at around 1 in the morning. He unlocked the door to his apartment, already on the verge of sleep. It felt nice to actually feel tired for once, it meant he'd finally get some actual sleep. He was envisioning his pillows, his bed, his warm blankets when he heard a loud crash, making his eyes shoot wide open. Having his peaceful vision taken away from him, he looked down at the hallway's floor, to see the remains of what used to be a flower vase. Pastel carnations lay on the ground, amongst a puddle of water and glass chunks. Josh sighed as he realized what was happening. He hadn't had a violent demonic being in a while, but it seemed his luck had run out. He placed his stuff down on his kitchen table and switched the light on to see the ghost standing there, back to Josh, breathing heavily in frustration. Knowing this was going to take a while, Josh sighed as he closed his eyes and dropped down into the chair. He massaged his left temple, feeling the headache was going to be the strongest in that area. With his eyes still closed, he spoke,
"Why did you have to break the vase? I get that you're angry and all, but you couldn't have broken a plate or some cups? Just had to break my last flower vase, huh? Not cool, man."
He groaned to himself as he felt the beginnings of a headache, still not bothering to look at whomever the culprit was. His head ache throbbed as three loud crashes broke the momentary silence, followed by this first response from the other being in the room,
"There. Broke 2 cups, and a plate. Happy?"

Josh stifled a chuckle as he rolled his shoulders back, each section of his spine releasing as satisfying popping noise. He finally opened his eyes, cringing a bit at how bright his lights suddenly seemed. What he saw in front of him definitely wasn't what he was expecting. What he was expecting was a pissed off spirit, that much was clear. He didn't expect to see it was bleeding, something spirits normally can't do. He was even more taken back when he looked at his face, and saw that not only was he cute, but oddly familiar. Struggling and stuttering, he found his voice,
"H-How did you get into my apartment exactly? Who even are you?"
The spirit - or whatever it was - stared at him as if he was expecting Josh to say he was joking. Upon realizing Josh was completely serious, he shrugged and pointed towards his door, "You left it unlocked. Not very safe, Joshua. Especially in this neighborhood. My name is Blurryface by the way. Or Tyler. Well, no not Tyler, but you'll understand later." He flexed his fingers, the blood pooled into the center of his palm before steadily dripping onto the floor, yet Blurry's face remained as monotonous as ever. His neck and arms seemed to be cover in something black; paint, ash? Whatever it was, it faded out around his elbows, and stopped at his jawline. Josh stared at his hand, studying the black and the blood seemingly mixing together subtly, "Before you ask how I know your name, your mum left you a voicemail reminding you that you promised her you'd visit her soon. You should call her back sometime, she seemed a bit irritated. Also,"
He paused as he situated himself to sit on Josh's counter, leaving a bloody hand print on the edge of the garnite counter-top, "I drank the last of your alcohol. Sorry bout that. In all fairness, it tasted like cat piss so I did you a favor."