Logan sighed, exhausted.
Janus ended up being outside for 3/4 of his shift, so Logan was forced to do everything. He knew that Janus used to do this every day, but it was a little bit much for Logan's second day.
Janus didn't apologize, but Logan hadn't expected him to.
He was home now, so it didn't matter anyways.
Logan pulled out his keys, sorting through them. After he found the one he wanted, he unlocked his door.
"Hello, Logan."
Logan froze, staring wide-eyed at his living room couch. "...Father."
He had honestly forgotten that he had given his father a key.
"Come here." His father said simply, appearing calm.
Logan gulped, closing his front door. He obeyed his father's command, walking closer to him.
His father held up a piece of paper. "What is this?"
Logan paled. "...my...my college application, father." He muttered, looking down at his feet.
"Yes, it is." His father hummed. "A creative writing school, Logan?"
Logan gulped. "Uh, yes."
"And why would you want to go to a creative writing school?"
Logan pursed his lips. "...I want to be an author--"
"No, you want to be a surgeon!" His father snapped. Logan flinched, crossing his arms. He bit his lip, feeling like he was about to cry. His father huffed.
He placed a stack of papers on the table.
Logan felt his heart drop.
"Tell me what this is." His father ordered.
"...my novel, father."
"Your novel." He echoed, scoffing. "A waste of time, that's what this is. You can't make a career out of this, Logan."
"...I worked really hard on that, father." Logan began quietly. "I spent seven years on that--"
"Well, you can spend the next seven years learning how to be a surgeon." His father told him, grabbing his novel and his college application.
He looked Logan dead in the eyes, and tore both in half.
Logan watched them fall to the floor, barely breathing. "You--" He breathed out, kneeling down to pick them up.
His father stepped on them before Logan got the chance. He looked at Logan, searching for something in his expression.
His face softened. "I'm doing this for you, Logan. You know I just want what's best for you."
He gave Logan one last glance, before walking out of the apartment.
Logan didn't even register when the door closed, staring at his ruined papers.
Seven years of work, down the drain. Just like that.
He looked around frantically. Maybe he had some tape? He could just tape them back together.
Who was he kidding? There were too many pages for him to sort through.
He probably wasn't meant to be a writer, anyways. It was fine. He was fine.
He wasn't crying. He wasn't crying. He wasn't--
Nevermind.
Hours passed.
Logan was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn't sure when he had moved there, he just knew that he was starting to feel tired.
He really didn't have the energy to get up and go to his room. Instead, he just relaxed into the couch and closed his eyes.
He was still processing what had happened. It hadn't really sunk in yet. The only thing he was really aware of was that he was upset, and rightfully so.
As his conciousness drifted away, he thought he felt a blanket being draped over him. He marked that off as his imagination.
---
Logan woke up in the middle of the night, as usual.
He was confused for a moment, not knowing where he was. When he remembered that he was in the living room, he relaxed.
He turned his head to the right, and found himself staring at someone's back.
He instinctively gasped, suddenly wide awake.
The person turned to him, looking confused. "What is it?"
Logan scrambled off the couch, backing away from the intruder. They stepped into the moonlight, and Logan saw their face.
"Roman?" He asked incredulously. Why did Roman have a mustache?
The person rose a brow, looking behind him. "Where?" He looked back at Logan, looking more confused. "This guy's crazy."
"I'm the crazy one?! You're the one who broke into my apartment!" Logan snapped.
"Your apartment? Sweetheart, this is my apartment. You're just living in it." He rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he froze. "Wait...did you just talk to me?"
"Yeah? I don't see anyone else here!" Logan frantically looked around for his phone, the need to call the cops increasing.
"Oh my god--Can you see me?" The guy asked, eyes widening. "Here, here, here--follow my finger."
He waved his finger back and forth. Logan followed it with his eyes, confusion growing by the second.
"OH MY GOD! YOU CAN SEE ME?!" The person screamed.
Logan quickly scrambled to the side of the room, where a broom was resting against the wall. He grabbed it, holding it out threateningly. "Stay back! I'm going to call the cops and--"
"The cops?!" The person asked, rushing over to him. "Don't do that! You could get fined!"
"G-Get away from me!" Logan stammered, backing further away.
The person rose a brow. "Who the fuck are you going to hurt with a broom?" He continued walking foward, much to Logan's dismay.
Logan closed his eyes, and swung the broom at him.
The person yelped, but Logan didn't feel the broom connect. He peeked an eye open, and was thoroughly confused when he saw that the guy hadn't moved.
"What--" He frowned, swinging again.
The broom fell out of his hands when he saw that it had passed straight through him.
Logan slowly met eyes with the person in front of him.
"Uh, hi." The person waved. "I'm Remus, the ghost of your apartment~" He chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, boo?"
Logan promptly passed out.
A/N:
HE'S FINALLY HERE