Ghost and the Writer

Prologue

The absolutely worst thing had just happened.

Fine, perhaps it was 5% better than a world enveloping nuclear war, but depending on how it goes it might as well lead to one. August was aware he was douchebag enough to actually cause one out of spite. So, objectively speaking, this was the worst thing that could have happened.

He had fallen in love at first sight.

With a ghost.

And he wasn't blind or senseless - she had been an undead for more than a decade, both her presence and appearance were, no doubt, a thing of nightmares, yet he kept stealing glances without her noticing.

He was an exorcist, it was in his work description to seal beings of her type and he had done so countless times and not even once had he felt attracted. Many of them cast charm magic, but August had encrypted and cursed his own mind on so many layers that if she tried she'd be now a half-melting aether goo on the floor. The attraction he felt, thus, wasn't caused by magic.

As rude as that might be, he had always thought there might be something seriously wrong with Dad's tastes to fall for one, but now he couldn't judge. Something about her had his heart racing and it wasn't fear, or maybe some of it was fear, but it felt more like a spice, not a deterrent.

Yet the timing couldn't be worse - August was well aware that his only saving grace was a good face, but currently, he did not even look like himself. Rather than being a male with dark brown hair and eyes, he was now a voluptuous blonde in a classy outfit and high heels clinging on the arm of his best friend Carl as a realtor showed them this apartment.

Both Carl and the realtor were shivering and looking like they were barely refraining from dashing into a run out of this place. Carl could see the ghost, the realtor couldn't - but haunted places had a certain 'air' to them - even normies stayed away. Realtor did his best to show them around, the ghost kept her distance and didn't try to stop them when they left either.

That explained how no one had called an exorcist to deal with her - she caused no harm other than making a certain property into a creepy place no one would want to buy. Except -

"Papa bear, I want this one," August said to Carl in a coquettish tone, seeing Carl's face scrunch up in half-disgust at the nickname as they reached the doors.

The realtor froze in place looking at August in disbelief. Even if he had tried to sell the place, it was clear he had no hope whatsoever in it ever working out. But now this blonde lady was certainly asking her 'papa bear' to buy it.

"Of course, Honey," Carl said in a sweet tone to his blonde fake girlfriend, now making August internally cringe.

If August wasn't well aware that this disguise was the most effective one, he would have cursed Carl big time when he slipped him a potion for this 'Honey,' not the old man he asked to be. They didn't really need to put on a lovey-dovey act, August just liked to see Carl cringe even if-- sadly, Carl returned the favor.

That was one of the things August liked, perhaps even loved, about Carl - he didn't treat him oddly, he could keep secrets and he wasn't attracted in a romantic or sexual way one bit regardless if August was himself or a voluptuous blonde Honey.

August also had a feeling both Carl and Carl's now-deceased grandfather had figured out what August was hiding, but none of them had spread it around or tried to use him.

One of the strongest hints at Carl knowing was how casually Carl let him hide at his place even if at the moment some bigshots were out looking. Carl had not asked 'why' even when he would be risking his skin and August had known Carl for a decade already - Carl was not the type to skimp on asking stuff in situations where his skin was involved.