"Yoongi?"

"Huh?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

I roll my eyes; I should have seen that one coming.

With all that has happened over the last week, my mind has become one big pile of mush. With a ghost problem on one hand, Namjoon on the other and one big ass pile of school work in-between, I needed to take a break. A break from everything: studying, my dying relationship, my ghost friend.

Yoongi is the best person to take a break with, by far. Unlike Hobi or Jimin, Yoongi won't ask me too many questions. He won't ask about Namjoon, not unless I volunteer specific information on my own. And even then, he would probably change the topic in a minute or two.

With Yoongi, even silence is comfortable. However, silence is one of the things I need to avoid now. Silence is giving me enough time to think and overthink pretty much everything, and having time to do that is just as destructive as every other problem I have in life.

"What would you think if I told you I can see a ghost?"

"Huh?" he turns to give me a weird look; with both of our heads hanging from the edge of the bed, starting at the world upside-down, he looks even more confused than his usually "I'm confused" look.

"I can see a ghost," I tell him, finally letting it all out. It feels like a breath of fresh air in a crowded nightclub full of smoke, people and smell of sweat, sex and alcohol. Saying it out loud is a relief like no other. "I can literally see a fucking ghost. I can touch him too. He... well, he technically lives at our place. His name is Jungkook. He's actually not fully dead but in a coma and he likes rock music and Iron Man. I want to bring him back to life but so far, it's been proven useless."

I give him a moment to process all the information that I just served. Even Yoongi, who has been as cool as a cucumber pretty much since the day he slid out of his mother's womb, is not cool enough to handle this without having a second to actually register everything.

"Huh," he mumbles. "Cool story."

The one time I try to be honest, this happens.

I should go back to being a fucking liar, it suits me better.

....

HOW TO BRING SOMEONE BACK FROM THE DEAD

Google can save lives. Google is not saving my life and it sure as hell isn't saving Jungkook's.

How Scientists Are Bringing People Back From The Dead

How To Make Potion To Bring Someone Back From The Dead ...

How To Bring A Loved One Back From The Dead.

Why can't we bring the dead back to life? – Quora

10 Reasons Not to Bring Someone Back from the Dead - io9 – Gizmodo

How to Bring a Dead Sim Back to Life in The Sims 3 | LevelSkip

How To Bring Someone Back From The Dead | Articles | NewSpring

BBC - Future - Will we ever bring the dead back to life?

Resurrected: A Controversial Trial to Bring the Dead Back to Life ...

We're Closer Than Ever to Bringing the Dead Back to Life | Observer

Fuck, fuck, fuck, double fuck with a cherry on top.

I even venture to the one place one should never venture, to the dark place people turn to only as a last resort, the unspoken evil that is the second page of the Google Search.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Well, at least nothing useful. I suppose I could find a potion recipe in a matter of minutes if I dig deep enough, to the rumored third page of Google Search even but I don't thinking lighting incense and sprinkling holy water with a dash of rosemary on him will do Jungkook any good.

The motivation he had when he agreed on letting me do this? It's getting weaker by the day, hour even. And to be completely honest, so is mine.

I knew right from the start that Google probably wasn't going to solve it all for me and that I would have to dig deeper but I still had some hopes.

The problem now is, even if I am willing to dig deeper, I have no clue where I'm supposed to dig. No "X marks the spot" for me. I have to find it myself, dig it myself and figure out there's nothing to dig up.

"Big surprise," Jungkook sighs as he jumps onto the bed next to me. "Did you expect witches to share their secrets on reddit?"

"Maybe," I shrug. "Look, I'm doing my best here."

"I'm starting to think you just want to get rid of me," he laughs. "If I'm not a ghost, you don't have to handle me. You just want to be alone again."

"And here I thought we might be friends after you wake up."

"And here I thought we were friends already."

It doesn't matter what I say or how I say it, he'll find a way to challenge me. He was born competitive. He probably ate his twin in the womb just to prove that he's the only one destined to get out of there.

"I wonder who wanted to be around you voluntarily."

"Everyone, babe," he winks at me. "I told you already, I was more fun when I was alive."

"You're still alive," I point out.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm really not."

"Okay, half alive."

He laughs. Leave it to him to find this amusing. "Babe, my family is probably days away from accepting the fact that I won't wake up. And if they can do it, if I can do it, so can you."

"Hell to the no," I shake my head. "I'll accept that only when I turn every fucking stone. Only when I realize I did all I could, will I be willing to think that maybe you are dead after all."

"There're a whole lot of stones you'll have to turn," he tells me.

"I know," I agree. "I don't know. I'm not expecting a thank you but it would be nice if you'd actually appreciate the effort I'm making. I want to help and I'm trying my best but it's very discouraging when I realize you don't give a shit about it."

"That's what you got wrong, JJ," he tells me; at least now, he looks serious and not like he's pulling my leg for the nth time. "I am very thankful for what you're doing. It's very kind of you. Impressive, even. Almost enough to make my dead heart beat again. Me being thankful is not a problem. The problem is that I don't think it'll work. I'm as dead as Britney's career. OUCH!"

"DO NOT INSULT HER!"

"As amazing it is to be able to be touched by someone again, it's not nice to be subject to violence."

"You don't insult Britney," I warn him. "It's Britney. Bitch."

"Fine, in this house we don't insult Britney," he lifts his hands up in surrender. "Can you please just... not hit me again?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you want to hold my hand," I roll my eyes before grabbing a hold of his.

Pretty much since the day we found out that we can actually touch, he had the need to touch me. At first, he didn't voice it, not after that hugging and hand holding session which ended up being really awkward the next day. He acted as if nothing was going on but every now and then, he would brush me, our hands touching, or our legs when we would sit next to each other.

Once I took a hold of his hand, showing him that I'm very much aware what he's trying to do, he stopped beating around the bush. He's holding my hand more often than not these days.

"You know, you need to keep in mind that this might not work. In fact, it probably won't work," he gives me a pointed look. I miss the emo, positive Kook who let me convince him into this. Dick Kook needs to go back into his lair. I need Emo Kook to help me with this.

"True, but I'm not giving up just yet," I tell him. "Also, there's one more thing I'd like to try."

"Oh god, now what?"

He already knows that he's not going to like the idea. He knows me well, what can I say? But just as he knows that he's not going to like it, I'm sure he's well aware that there's no stopping me if I put my mind to it. Sure, he can try to stop me but it definitely won't work.

Especially not since I think it's important to do what I plan to do.

"I want to go to the hospital."