Ghosts Don't Pay Rent (Act 1)

Chapter 1: Moving In

Ethan Hale stepped out of the taxi, stretching his stiff limbs as he looked up at the old dormitory building. It wasn't much—faded bricks, rusted window frames, and a weathered sign that barely clung to the entrance—but to Ethan, it was freedom. College was supposed to be a fresh start, an escape from the suffocating expectations of home.

He adjusted his backpack and inhaled deeply. This is it. A new beginning.

Dragging his suitcase behind him, he entered the building and immediately felt the shift in atmosphere. The air inside was colder than expected, the kind that clung to your skin. The fluorescent lights flickered briefly before stabilizing. A chill ran down his spine, but he brushed it off as nerves.

His room was on the third floor, the farthest down the hall. Room 313.

"Lucky number," he muttered sarcastically, shoving the key into the lock.

The door creaked as it opened, revealing a small but decent space—plain bed, wooden desk, and a window that overlooked the campus. Ethan exhaled and smiled. It wasn't home, but it would do. He tossed his bag onto the bed and flopped down beside it, staring at the ceiling.

College was going to be different. No parents breathing down his neck, no endless lectures about being the family's pride, no pressure to be perfect. Just him, his studies, and a life he could finally call his own.

A light tap interrupted his thoughts.

He sat up, scanning the room. Nothing.

Another tap, tap, tap—this time against the window.

Ethan turned toward it, expecting to see tree branches swaying in the wind. But there was nothing outside except the dimly lit campus grounds.

He swallowed hard. "C'mon, Ethan, don't freak yourself out already."

Shaking his head, he stood up and began unpacking. As he sorted through his books, something caught his eye—a small yellow sticky note on the desk that hadn't been there before.

Don't stay up too late. It's bad for you.

His breath hitched. His fingers trembled as he picked up the note, flipping it over to check the back. Blank.

His heart pounded. Had the previous tenant left it behind? Maybe a welcome prank from another student?

A soft, amused giggle echoed through the room.

Ethan spun around, but he was completely alone.

And then—just for a second—he swore he saw a faint silhouette reflected in the window. A girl's figure. Watching him.

The next moment, it was gone.

Chapter 2: Unseen Presence

Ethan awoke to the sound of soft rustling.

Blinking groggily, he turned toward his desk. His books, which he distinctly remembered stacking neatly, were now scattered across the surface. His chair, once tucked in, was slightly pulled back—as if someone had been sitting there.

A shiver crawled down his spine.

"I must've been half-asleep when I unpacked," he muttered, rubbing his face. But a nagging thought told him otherwise.

He grabbed his phone and checked the time. 3:13 AM.

A loud thump made him jump.

Ethan spun toward the source of the noise—his closet door. It had been slightly open before he went to bed, but now it stood completely ajar.

His throat dried. "Hello?" His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Silence.

He took slow steps toward the closet, heart pounding. With a deep breath, he yanked the door open.

Nothing.

Just his clothes and an empty suitcase tucked in the corner. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and shook his head. "I need sleep."

Ignoring the unsettling feeling creeping up his spine, he shut the closet door and crawled back into bed.

As he pulled the blanket over himself, something brushed against his cheek—a soft, whisper-like touch, almost like fingers running through his hair.

He shot up, eyes darting around the room. "Who's there?"

Still, only silence.

But deep in his gut, he knew—he wasn't alone.

Chapter 3: The Girl in the Room

The next morning, Ethan sat at his desk, running his fingers over the sticky note from the night before. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, but part of him wanted to believe it was just stress messing with him.

Then came a knock on his door.

He opened it to find no one there.

A chill ran down his spine as a voice—soft, teasing—whispered behind him, "Took you long enough."

Ethan turned sharply. Sitting cross-legged on his bed was a girl. She looked his age, with dark hair that fell in loose waves and a playful smile tugging at her lips. She wore a light blue sweater, her legs tucked neatly beneath her.

"What the—? How did you get in here?" he demanded, stepping back toward the door.

She tilted her head. "I live here."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "No, you don't. This is my room."

"Oh?" The girl grinned. "Then why do I know where you keep your socks?"

Ethan opened his mouth to argue, but she gestured to his dresser. He yanked the top drawer open and froze. His socks—he had definitely put them in the bottom drawer last night.

His heart pounded. "Who are you?"

The girl leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Iryne. But you can call me Rye." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "And you, Ethan Hale, are way too serious."

Chapter 4: A Ghostly Companion

Over the next few days, Iryne became a constant presence in Ethan's life. She had a habit of appearing whenever he was stressed, teasing him out of his spiraling thoughts.

"You're overthinking again," she said, plopping onto his desk while he buried himself in notes. "Let's go for a walk."

"I have an exam," Ethan muttered.

"And? A little fresh air won't kill you."

He sighed but allowed her to drag him outside. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.

Chapter 5: A Bond Forms

Ethan found himself looking forward to Iryne's visits. She pushed him to take breaks, scolded him for skipping meals, and even forced him to sleep at decent hours.

"You're useless to the world if you burn yourself out," she told him one night, flicking his forehead. "Trust me."

"Why do you care so much?" Ethan asked.

Iryne hesitated, her usual teasing smile faltering. "Because you remind me of someone."

Ethan wanted to press her for more, but she changed the subject.

Chapter 6: Unraveling Threads

One evening, Ethan found an old photo tucked inside his textbook. It was of a group of students—five of them, smiling at the camera.

At the center stood Iryne.

His blood ran cold. "Iryne… when was this taken?"

She stared at the photo for a long moment before softly whispering, "A long time ago."

Ethan's heart pounded. Something wasn't right.

And for the first time, he wondered—who really was Iryne?

"End Of Act 1"