It was only after I died that I learned my nemesis was in love with me. My soul hovered in the air above my unclaimed body, my family utterly indifferent. The only one who mourned was Colin, the man I’d fought with for over a decade. He was the one who collected my body, his eyes red-rimmed as he cursed through his tears. “Goddammit, Asher, I never even got to kiss you,” he sobbed. “Who the fuck said you could die?” Death, it turned out, was a window into Colin’s decade-long secret. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my freshman year of college. Without a second thought, I bolted to Colin’s dorm. “Colin!” I hammered on his door. “Open up! I came here to make out with you.” 1 “Hello, am I speaking with Asher’s parents? I’m calling to ask if you could come and identify his body.” The couple on the other end of the line didn’t react. Their expressions were cold, almost bored. “Asher? I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number. We only have one son. His name is Mason.” After hanging up, the middle-aged couple seethed. “We never should have taken him back,” the woman muttered. “He does nothing but cause trouble. Now he’s resorting to pranks like this? It’d be better if he really did drop dead somewhere.” Mason, sitting beside them, feigned a worried expression. “But what if it’s true? What if something really happened to him? You know how he’s always getting into fights.” My older brother, Neil, who was sitting on the sofa, gently reassured him. “Mason, you’re just too kind. You know Asher. He’d do anything for attention. He doesn’t have the guts to actually die.” “He’s probably hiding somewhere right now,” Neil continued, his voice dripping with disdain, “watching us, hoping to see us panic. He’d get a good laugh out of that.” I floated in the air, a silent observer to it all. I am Asher. The “real son” they spoke of with such venom. The vicious, manipulative monster who would do anything to steal the spotlight, the one who deserved to die alone. My biological parents, my brother, even my fiancé—they were all there. Not a single one of them thought to verify the call. They all believed I deserved to die. Wished for it, even. Because in their eyes, there was only room for Mason, their “kind-hearted adopted son.” I was just the villain everyone hated. So, I gave them their wish. There’s a strange thrill to ending your own life, a perverse agony in feeling the warmth of life seeping out, drop by drop. I lay calmly in the tub, watching the blood bloom in the water until darkness took me. I’d drift back to consciousness, but the pain was a crushing weight, and I’d slip away again. After a few cycles of this, I was finally gone. After death, my soul was tethered to my body, unable to leave the small apartment. It was so boring. And I was hungry. God, I could kill for an apple… I explored every corner of the room, a ghost trapped in a cage. Five days passed. Then came the weekend, when the landlord came to collect the rent. He called, he knocked, but there was no answer. A short while later, he called the police. I’m so sorry, man, I thought, addressing the landlord. Sorry for messing up your place. I just had nowhere else to go. I’d left all my money for him, a compensation for the inconvenience of dying in his property. It was enough to buy several more apartments like this one. The blare of sirens finally broke the silence. My room filled with people, and a flicker of hope ignited within me. Can I finally leave? A flash of white light, and suddenly I was at the Crawfords' house, a ghost in their living room. I watched the happy family, a perfect picture of domestic bliss, and felt nothing. Not a single ripple of emotion. When will I disappear for good? I wondered. I don’t want to see these people ever again. 2 For days, the police tried to contact my parents to claim my body. They remained convinced it was a prank, even cheering at the news. “He’s dead? Good. At least he’ll finally stop causing trouble.” My brother, Neil, a shark in the business world, was blind to every one of Mason’s pathetic schemes. His hatred for me was visceral. “Now no one will compete with Mason. Everything the Crawfords have is his.” My fiancé, the man who had once showered me with affection, just laughed and pulled Mason into his arms. “He’s dead. Now we can finally be together openly.” I was starting to get annoyed with that persistent cop. It’s just a body. Can’t you just haul it away and bury it somewhere? Why did you have to keep calling them, forcing me to listen to their curses even in death? Eventually, the police gave up. I thought I’d finally get some peace and quiet. But in the next instant, I was zapped back to the scene. They had managed to contact someone else: Colin, who was away on a business trip abroad. My nemesis. The guy I’d been fighting with for a decade. I never imagined he would be the one to claim my body. “Hey, Colin!” I yelled at him, my ghostly voice unheard. “I’m warning you, don’t you dare laugh at me! If you do, I’ll tell the devil on you when I get down there.” As expected, he couldn’t hear a word. His face was a mask of stone as he efficiently handled the paperwork, claimed my body, and arranged for the funeral. I trailed behind him the whole time, a constant stream of commentary. “Colin, I don’t want a coffin. They’re ugly. I want to be cremated.” “And my ashes—scatter them in the ocean, you hear me?” “Also, my funeral. Don’t let any of the Crawfords come. I don’t want to see them.” “Colin, if you can hear me, just breathe or something.” He couldn’t hear me. And yet… it was as if he heard everything. He did it all exactly as I would have wanted. Simple, quick, no fuss. Colin handled everything. 3 After the small, private service, Colin, who hadn’t slept in days, could finally go home. I followed him, floating right through his front door. His apartment was just like him: stark and colorless, all shades of grey and black. I made myself at home, plopping down on his ridiculously expensive-looking sofa, then drifting into his kitchen to poke around. So much good food, none of which I could eat. Finally, I followed him into his bedroom. The moment he crossed the threshold, it was like all his strength deserted him. He collapsed onto the bed, completely spent. I drifted aimlessly around his room, a bored phantom. When I floated over to his bookcase, I noticed something strange. There was a single object I seemed to be able to touch: a worn, leather-bound journal. Curiosity got the better of me. I opened it to the first page. Weather: Sunny. Officially met Asher today. He doesn’t remember me at all… Weather: Overcast. It rained today. Asher didn’t have an umbrella. I was about to offer him mine, but he just took off, sprinting into the downpour… Day 900 of knowing Asher. He’s in a relationship. With someone he likes. It’s not me… Weather: Sunny, but my world is flooded. Asher’s engaged. I hope he’s happy… I stared at the journal, stunned. It chronicled every single day since Colin and I had met. No, that wasn’t right. This was the story of his secret love for me. Just then, a faint sound from the bed broke the silence. A sob. I turned. Colin was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, crying softly. “Colin, what are you crying for?” I shouted, my voice useless. “I never saw you shed a tear when I was alive. Guess I had to die to see this.” But he only cried harder, the soft sobs turning into raw, unrestrained grief, then into a full-blown, gut-wrenching wail. I was frantic, clawing at the air, desperate to touch him, to comfort him, but my hands passed right through. Defeated, I settled on the edge of the bed beside him. “You know, Colin,” I murmured, “you’re the first person to cry for me.” “See? People are supposed to grow fond of each other over time, right? So why didn’t they? Why didn’t my own family?” “I never met my parents until I was eighteen. And after that, they never trusted me. My brother hated me, my fiancé never truly loved me. My whole life… what a fucking failure.” Colin’s crying finally subsided. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair a mess—a world away from the impeccably composed man I knew. He staggered to his desk and picked up the journal. His long fingers traced over a photo tucked between the pages as he whispered to himself. “Asher, I never even got to kiss you. Who the FUCK said you could die?” “Are you an idiot, Asher? To kill yourself over people who weren’t worth a goddamn second of your time? What’s in that head of yours, water?” I remembered I’d left a suicide note. Only Colin had seen it. I hadn’t left a single word for him. “Why couldn’t you wait two more days? I would have been back in two days.” “Why didn’t you leave a single word for me? Are you blaming me for not coming back sooner? I’m sorry…” … “Asher, I’ll stop pissing you off. I’ll stop fighting with you. Just come back, okay?” “Asher… I love you. I’ve loved you for ten whole years.” Ten years. For ten years, I saw him as nothing but my rival. It never once crossed my mind that he felt anything else for me. We were at each other’s throats since high school. He was the golden boy, the class president. I was the delinquent—skipping class, getting into fights, everything he wasn’t. We were from different worlds. When I got into a fight, he’d report me. When I tried to skip school, he’d be there to catch me. He was even the one who busted me for my first attempt at romance—though he never knew the love letter was for him. I used to have a crush on him, once upon a time. Somehow, we ended up at the same college, in the same major. He became the student government president and would dock my academic credits for staying out all night. He’d even crash parties with my roommates. After graduation, we ended up at the same company, where he was my damn boss. Everywhere I went, Colin found a way to be there. 4 After Colin had cried himself out, he picked up my photo from his desk and pressed a fierce kiss to the glass. “Finally got my kiss, Asher,” he whispered, a broken smile on his face. “Don’t be scared. I’m coming to be with you.” With that, he walked into the bathroom. He didn’t hesitate. He ended his life in the exact same way I had. His last words were a smile. “See you on the other side, Asher.” The scene left me reeling, my ghostly form spinning. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and when I opened my eyes again, the world was both familiar and strange. I shot up in bed, throwing open the curtains of my loft bed—the familiar black-and-white cat-print curtains. Below, my three roommates were huddled around a screen, deep in a video game. One of them heard me and looked up. “Asher, you’re awake! Wanna join? We’re a man down!” I was back. I was back in my freshman year, before the Crawfords had found me. The scene was so real, so tangible, that my past life felt like a fever dream I’d had during an afternoon nap. “What’s the date today?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “October 13th. You sleep-deprived or something?” In my past life, October 13th was the day Trevor confessed his feelings for me. It was also the day my relationship with Colin deteriorated even further. Trevor had supposedly saved my life once, so I’d accepted his confession. We got engaged after graduation. But behind my back, he was sleeping with Mason, the darling adopted son of the Crawford family. “Honestly, Asher, if it wasn’t for that pretty face of yours, I never would’ve bothered,” he’d sneered at me before I died. “You’re pathetically stupid. I staged one little heroic act, and you came running like a lost puppy.” “Mason and I are the ones who are truly in love.” “And by the way? The one who really saved you was that nemesis of yours you hate so much. You’re such an idiot.” The truth only came out at the very end. The hero I thought was Trevor had just been an opportunist, picking up the credit Colin had left behind. I remembered Colin was there when Trevor made his big public confession. His face had been dark, his brows knitted together before he turned and walked away. After I started dating Trevor, Colin treated me with even more icy disdain. He was constantly making snide, passive-aggressive remarks about Trevor. I thought he hated Trevor simply by association with me. Turns out, he was just jealous. I scrambled out of bed and ran to Colin’s dorm, hammering on his door. It swung open, and Colin stood there, silhouetted against the light from his window, his expression unreadable. “What, didn’t you hear the shouting outside? Someone’s declaring their undying love for you,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Are you here to rub it in?” Even as a freshman, Colin had that same cool, distant air about him. Who would have guessed that beneath that frosty exterior, he was harboring a secret crush? The man’s defenses were impenetrable, except for one thing: his mouth. He could never hide his bitterness. I didn’t wait for an invitation. I shoved him back into his room and slammed the door shut. Seeing that his roommates weren’t there, I spun him around and pinned him against the door, our noses almost touching, my world shrinking until it contained only him. “Colin,” I said, my voice low. “I’m here to make out with you.” 5 Colin’s breath hitched. A flicker of something—shock? hope?—crossed his eyes before the cold mask slammed back into place. “What new trick is this?” “It’s, uh…” I paused, watching his face closely. This was the guy who could give a speech to the entire student body without breaking a sweat, but right now, I could see the tension humming just beneath his skin. “A trick I learned for you.” “Colin, I’m not going to date Trevor.” “I want to date you. How about it?” He pushed me away, adjusting his glasses with a gesture that was a little too deliberate. “Who… who wants to date you?” he stammered, but I saw the blush creeping up his ears. “So you’re just going to stand there and watch me get with someone else?” I pressed. “You don’t even have the guts to try once? Look, if you can impress me, maybe I’ll be in a good mood and say yes.” I closed the distance again, pinning him, and pressed a firm kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just a little taste,” I murmured. “Don’t want you getting scared off before you even start.” After all, a guy who could hide his feelings for ten years was clearly a coward. Suddenly, we heard the jingle of keys and voices from the hallway. Colin shoved me away again, harder this time. “Asher, don't joke like that again.” Just then, his roommates walked in. They blinked in surprise when they saw me, then shot me a knowing grin. “Hey, Asher! You’re here! You know, Trevor’s downstairs screaming your name. His voice is getting hoarse, and his little candle heart is about to burn out. You should probably go down there. Looks like good things are coming your way.” “Sure,” I said with a breezy smile. “I’ll go check it out.” I turned to leave, but a hand shot out and grabbed my sleeve. Colin’s voice was low. “Asher. Did you mean what you said?” “I did,” I replied, not turning back. “Take your time thinking it over. I’ll wait.” I’d wait as long as it takes.
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