I had always joked I would sleep when I was dead, but ghosts didn't need recharging. I spent the night on pins and needles. At daybreak, I was bouncing with uncontained excitement by the time Mys groggily rolled over in bed. Soon as my slowpoke roommate tossed off the duvet, I skipped to the coffeemaker and popped toast in the toaster.

"Good morning!" I sang. "Hey, what kind of Supernaturals do you think we'll meet today?"

Mys padded into the kitchen and knuckled sleep from their face. They paused at the fully cleaned studio. I felt a twinge of contrition for my bratty behavior the day prior. Everything was in its rightful place now.

I helpfully poured the first cup of Joe and brandished a new mug I had dug from the cabinet. It was from the same set as the one I had broken. Accepting the peace offering, Mys flashed a tiny smile, and I braced against the island as they took the barstool.

"I've always wanted to see unicorns," I rambled. "Do they exist? Come to think of it, if they do, I guess there wouldn't be many in the city, right? Ooh, maybe we'll see fairies!"

At the ding! I snatched a saucer from the cabinet and deposited fresh toast. Real butter melted in salty, sweet rivulets. Plus, there was bacon. Microwavable bacon. I slid the plated food across the marble countertop. Mys saved it from toppling over the edge.

"Glad you're not holding a grudge," they said.

"Oh, I haven't forgotten you never told me what you are, but I'll pick my battles."

"Which battle do you want to fight today?" Mys asked cheekily.

I leaned over with a conspiratorial wink. "Let's leave early."

"Before we even discuss the game-plan? We should probably talk about how not to scare the poor guy to death."

"We can do that while we're out exploring Overlay City! What do you think of this?" I showed off a flirty sky-blue dress from their trés chic wardrobe and got a thumbs up from my roomie. "Too bad he won't be able to see me in this sexy number."

"What's the message?" Mys asked, sipping coffee.

"My ghost is stuck here because of him," I deadpanned.

"Major creep factor but continue."

Cackling, I raided the bookshelf for paper and bent over the coffee table with one of Mys' anime journals. "Writing it down: 'I should've told you how I felt when I had the chance, Willie-Jay. Now, I can't move on without you knowing how much I like you.'"

Mys gave a slow, dramatic clap from the barstool. "Way to make a guy feel like your Rest in Peace hinges upon him circling yes on your cosmic love letter."

"I mean, technically it does, but what do you propose, sex guru?" I asked with a grin.

"You could say, 'I desired you with a fire that consumed me 'til my last breath.'"

"Yasss! Poetic. I love that. Is that how you keep men hanging onto your every word?" I tossed the Attack on Titan notebook on the couch. Mys slipped off the barstool to put it away where it belonged, and I corrected my error, putting it up, myself.

"I don't give away trade secrets, Yokai. Anyway, I guess we can leave early since I technically don't have anything else to do with my day."

Smiling, I gave Mys a once over. Blue silk pajamas made their body a study in elegance. Mussy black hair framed a well-rested face, sparkling eyes bordered by dark lashes, and naturally pink lips that invited...well, wishful thinking.

"I can't believe you don't have a date or three," I joked.

"Are you asking me out?" Mys replied sarcastically.

"Pfft! No."

They left the bathroom door open while they showered. I stole a quick glance, but the opaque curtain hid everything. Even my wicked rosy tint as I quietly exhaled and turned away. I lingered outside the threshold to ask more questions about Overlay City. Did centaurs exist? Was there racial animus between the different types? Did all Supernaturals have powers?

"We don't think of it like that," said Mys. "Humans have five senses. We have more. Like, my Empathy allows me to sense what others want, need, and feel. I can't do anything with it, the way you'd expect of a superpower, although it's handy information in a pinch."

Did that mean my roommate could basically read my every lusty imagining? I gulped and made my mind a barren field of G-rated thoughts. It lasted all of five seconds before I gave up. To hell with it. We were both adults.

When Mys got done showering, I slipped into the steamy bathroom for a luxurious soak. Same as eating, drinking, and sleeping, I no longer needed it, but I enjoyed the habit. I left the door open, too, but I was mildly surprised when Mys entered to put on makeup. Like I wasn't right there naked.

"What will you do if this William guy admits he likes you, too?" they asked.

I sank deeper into the bubbles. "What can I do? I'm a ghost."

"What if he has the Sight?" They glanced at me. Was it me, or was there a hint of desire in those bottomless eyes? "You wouldn't be the first ghost to steal the heart of a living person."

I didn't want to admit how much I liked the idea of an Afterlife relationship. I hadn't had many boyfriends in real life. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there, Mys. It's not like I'm that irresistible."

"Fishing for compliments?" they asked. I stuck out my tongue, and they grinned and left the bathroom as a tinge crept over my face at our unexpected chemistry. There was something to be said for proximity.

Despite Willie-Jay putting plenty deets on social media, online stalking was neither glamorous nor harmless to me after battling my own internet creep. So, I only knew where my crush lived because one of my cousins shared his building.

Mys and I strolled into Oak Crest Condominiums, and my heart thundered in my chest at what I was about to do. I took in my surroundings. It was the kind of place I expected a guy like Willie-Jay to call home—classy, sophisticated, with a doorman and concierge at the front desk. I was weightless with butterflies. Mys tugged my hand, and I realized I was floating. I whisper-screamed in panic.

"No one else sees you. Relax," Mys whispered back, having a field day.

"What if William does have the Sight, and I do some spooky ghostly shit without trying to?"

"He'll be too distracted by how fabulous you look. Now, which floor? Concierge is judging me for talking to myself, and I don't want to ask him," Mys giggled.

Burbling with laughter, I gave the apartment number and tried to keep in touch with gravity. Talk about getting swept off my feet. William was half the excitement; busting out of the studio was the thrill.

Mys and I had spent the afternoon on a pleasant stroll through Overlay City while we waited for my crush to finish his university courses. At first, I contended with people accidentally walking through me. Eventually, I learned to dodge pedestrians. None of the Supernaturals we encountered were much different than humans, but I noticed I didn't have to sidestep them.

We went past my favorite shops and restaurants, filling up on the smell of Creole cooking. Mys pointed out Supernatural venues I wished we could explore, like a place called Brewtech where magical instruments were hawked with all the panache of iPhones. We couldn't be everywhere at once, and I filed places away to visit later if we had the chance.

We paused and watched street performers and talented artists sketching portraits for tourists. We saw tarot readers, fortune tellers, and bullshitters, pickpockets and young boys dancing on the curb. I hadn't realized how much I missed the gleaming black wrought iron balustrades, or the windows with blue and red shutters, or the unique local syntax.

New Orleans lifted my spirits. In the back of my mind, I knew if all went well, I would be saying goodbye to this place soon. Once I completed my unfinished business, whether Darcy was searching for me or not, I would visit my family one last time and cross over to the Other Side.

Mys and I exited the elevator and walked a cheery, yellow hall in search of William's door. When my companion started singing quietly in Japanese, I absently commented, "I wish I was bilingual."

"I know basic words and phrases. I'm teaching myself," Mys explained.

"Doesn't your family, er...?" I clamped my lips shut.

Mys shrugged. "I was adopted when I was two. Wonderful folks, but they damn sure didn't speak my language, and they never understood my kind...Supernaturals."