MY BOYFRIEND IS AN GHOST

The city felt unfamiliar, its air colder than Elara expected. Her first night in this new country carried a strange quiet, the kind that makes even the smallest sounds echo too loudly. After unpacking, she decided to take a short walk and buy herself some ice cream just something simple to end the long, exhausting day. The streets were mostly empty, bathed in the pale glow of streetlights. As she walked back toward her apartment, the soft hum of the city faded beneath the distant chime of the church bell tower. When she looked up, she froze. A blood-red moon hung over the skyline, eerie yet breathtaking. It painted the buildings in shades of crimson and silver. For a moment, she forgot everything he new job, the loneliness, the strangeness of the city. She reached for her phone, wanting to capture it, when a sudden thud split the silence. Her heart skipped. The sound had come from just ahead, near the apartment entrance. She step forward, ice cream still in hand, until it slipped from her grasp and hit the ground. A man lay there, sprawled on the cold pavement, a white T-shirt soaked in blood that glistened beneath the moonlight. Elara’s breath caught in her throat. Her knees nearly gave way as she stepped closer, trembling. “H-Hey are you okay?” she stammered, though her voice barely reached her own ears. The man’s eyes open for a brief moment. They met hers deep, frightened, and filled with something unspoken. Pain. Helplessness. Fear. And then… nothing. The light faded from his eyes as the church bell tolled midnight. Ding. The sound echoed through the empty street, cold and merciless. Elara’s hands trembled as she pulled out her phone. Her voice shook when she spoke to the dispatcher. “There’s been an accident a man fell from the building near my apartment. He’s not breathing. Please… please send someone quickly.” Within minutes, the distant wail of sirens filled the air. Red and blue lights flashed across the wet pavement, painting her face in broken colors. Paramedics rushed in, checking for a pulse, while officers began sealing off the area. Elara stepped back, her eyes still fixed on the man’s body. Something didn’t sit right. The way his arm was twisted unnaturally, the bruises along his wrist, faint marks like someone had grabbed him none of it looked like a fall. She wanted to say something, but her throat felt dry, words refusing to come out. That night, sleep never came. She lay in bed, eyes open to the ceiling, the echo of the church bell and that final look in his eyes haunting her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him again those bruises, the crimson moon, and the silence that followed. By morning, she forced herself out of bed. It was her first official day as a crime department lawyer, and no amount of fear would let her start it broken. Standing in front of the mirror, she tried to smile. “You’ve handled worse, Elara,” she whispered to her reflection. “Cheer up, girl. You’re not falling apart on your first day.” She tied her hair, slipped into her blazer, and turned on the TV for a dose of background noise while she made coffee. But then her breath caught. The headline on the screen made her freeze. “Global Rising Star Adrian Ren Found Dead Police Confirmed as Apparent Suicide.” Her cup nearly slipped from her hand. The photo on the screen the same face she’d seen lying on the pavement. The same lifeless eyes that had met hers beneath the red moon. Elara stood still, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Suicide? And as she looked at his smiling photo on the screen, something deep inside telling her that this is not suicide she looked at the clock and she realized she was running late. “Great first impression,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing her bag and rushing out the door. Her car hummed down the busy road as she neared the crime department building. But as she turned the corner, she slowed. A crowd had gathered outside the station dozens of people, some crying, others shouting, holding banners with the same face she saw on the news. Adrian Ren. The words on the posters read “Justice for Adrian” and “This isn’t suicide!” Elara’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. " Maybe I’m not the only one who knows something’s wrong." She parked the car a few streets away and walked past the chaos, keeping her head down as flashes from cameras lit the air. Inside the office, the mood was the opposite warm, welcoming, calm. “Welcome, Miss Elara!” someone called out as she entered. A burst of claps and smiles greeted her. Someone handed her a bouquet of white lilies. “First day in the department deserves flowers,” they said cheerfully. Elara smiled and "aw- thank you" One of the men stepped forward, tall and sharp-featured, with neatly styled dark hair and kind eyes that contrasted with his intimidating aura. “I’m Kai,” he said, extending a hand. “Your assistant starting today.” His smile was brief but genuine. “Let me show you to your office.” As they walked down the corridor, Elara noticed the faint scent of coffee and old paper lingering in the air. It was oddly comforting. When they reached her desk, Kai placed a stack of files on the table beside her. He seemed distracted, flipping through a few photos he held loosely in one hand. Elara’s gaze fell on them dark, grainy crime scene images. Her heart skipped. She recognized that face even from the side angle. “That’s…” she began softly. Kai looked up. “Oh, this? Not our case,” he said casually. “Some celebrity’s suicide case from last night.” Elara’s eyes drifted back to one particular photo deep, red marks across the victim’s stomach. Her pulse quickened. “He… cut himself?” she asked quietly, disbelief heavy in her tone. Before Kai could answer, a sharp voice sliced through the room. “That’s enough, Kai.” A woman in a fitted black suit strode toward them, her heels clicking like a metronome. Her expression was cold, composed the kind of confidence that came with power and money. She snatched the photo from Kai’s hand without hesitation. “This case is closed,” she said, her tone final. “Focus on your assigned work.” Elara’s breath hitched. She watched the woman walk away, the echo of her heels fading down the hall. Kai forced a smile, though his eyes flickered uneasily. “You’ll get used to her,” he murmured. But Elara didn’t hear him. Her mind was already racing. Why did that woman look… afraid? And why did everyone want this case buried so quickly?