Updated Mar 9, 2026 • ~9 min read
Derek from 2A is exactly the kind of man Maya should want.
Tall. Handsome in a clean-cut, safe way. Works in tech—something with software development that pays well enough for the Blackwood’s rent. Friendly smile. No visible red flags.
Alive.
He catches her in the hallway on Saturday morning, coffee in hand, looking effortlessly put-together in weekend casual.
“Hey,” he says. “You’re in 2B, right? I’m Derek. 2A.”
Maya adjusts her grocery bags. “Maya. Hi.”
“I wanted to introduce myself earlier, but you always seem to be rushing somewhere.” He leans against his doorframe, easy and comfortable. “How are you settling in?”
“Fine. The building is… unique.”
Derek laughs. “That’s diplomatic. Most people say ‘terrifying’ or ‘possibly haunted.'” He pauses. “You hear weird things at night?”
Maya’s heart skips. “Like what?”
“Footsteps. Music. Sometimes voices.” He shrugs. “Old buildings, right? Probably just the pipes.”
“Probably.”
They stand in awkward silence for a moment. Then Derek straightens. “Listen, I know this is random, but there’s a great coffee place a few blocks away. If you’re not busy, maybe we could grab a cup? Welcome to the building properly?”
Maya should say no.
She’s falling for a ghost. She’s actively researching how to break a century-old curse. She has no business going on what is clearly a date with her very alive, very normal neighbor.
“Sure,” she hears herself say. “That sounds nice.”
Derek’s smile widens. “Great. Give me two minutes to grab my wallet?”
“I’ll wait here.”
He disappears into his apartment. Maya stands in the hallway, grocery bags cutting into her hands, wondering what the hell she’s doing.
The temperature drops.
She looks up.
Julian is at the end of the hallway. Barely visible in the morning light, but there. Watching.
His expression is unreadable.
“Julian—” Maya starts.
Derek’s door opens. “Ready?”
When Maya looks back, Julian is gone.
The coffee shop is warm and crowded and aggressively normal.
Maya orders a latte she doesn’t want and sits across from Derek at a small table, listening to him talk about his job, his hobbies, his plan to eventually move to a place without mysterious nighttime sounds.
He’s nice. Easy to talk to. The kind of person who would fit perfectly into her life if her life wasn’t currently revolving around a dead man.
“So what do you do?” Derek asks.
“Art conservator. At the Seattle Art Museum.”
“That’s cool. Like, you restore old paintings?”
“Basically. Repair damage, preserve pieces for future generations. Bring things back to life.” The words feel heavy in her mouth. “Or try to.”
Derek doesn’t notice her tone. “I bet you see some amazing stuff. Must be satisfying work.”
“It is. When it works.” Maya stirs her latte. “Sometimes things are too damaged. Too far gone. And you have to accept you can’t save them.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah.” She thinks about Julian. About seven lifetimes of trying and failing. About the way he faded in her arms yesterday. “It really does.”
Derek reaches across the table, his hand landing on hers.
Warm. Solid. Alive.
“You okay? You seem somewhere else.”
Maya pulls her hand back gently. “Sorry. Just tired. The building keeps me up.”
“The sounds?”
“Among other things.”
They talk for another twenty minutes. Derek is charming. Funny. Tells a self-deprecating story about a disastrous camping trip that makes her laugh despite herself.
But the whole time, she’s thinking about Julian.
About gray eyes and impossible touches and the way he looks at her like she’s the only real thing in his world.
When Derek walks her back to the building, she already knows this was a mistake.
“I had fun,” Derek says at her door. “We should do it again sometime.”
“Maybe.” Maya unlocks her apartment. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Hey, Maya?” Derek shifts his weight. “If you ever want company—like, if the building creeps you out at night—I’m right next door. Just knock.”
It’s a kind offer. Genuine.
And it makes her feel terrible.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ll remember that.”
She escapes into her apartment before he can say anything else.
Julian is waiting.
He’s standing by the window, arms crossed, barely maintaining form. When Maya enters, he doesn’t turn to look at her.
“Did you have fun?” His voice is flat.
Maya sets her keys down carefully. “It was coffee.”
“With your neighbor. The alive one. Who can touch you without you freezing.”
“Julian—”
“I’m not angry.” He finally turns. His expression is carefully blank. “You should date him. He’s perfect for you. Living. Normal. Not trapped in a cursed building.”
“I don’t want to date him.”
“Why not? He’s everything I’m not.” Julian’s form flickers. “He can take you places. Give you a future. Offer you something besides nightly conversations and impossible promises.”
Maya crosses the room until she’s standing in front of him. “Do you want me to date Derek?”
“I want you to be happy.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Julian looks away. “What I want doesn’t matter. I’m dead. He’s alive. The choice is obvious.”
“Not to me.” Maya reaches for his hand. He’s barely solid enough to grasp. “I didn’t go to coffee with him because I wanted to. I went because I was trying to prove to myself that I could. That I could choose normal over impossible.”
“And?”
“And I spent the whole time thinking about you.” She squeezes his fading hand. “He’s nice. He’s safe. He’s everything I should want. But he’s not you.”
Julian’s carefully controlled expression cracks. “Maya, you can’t—we can’t—”
“I know. I know it’s impossible and stupid and doomed.” She steps closer. “But I don’t care. I choose you anyway.”
“Even though I can offer you nothing?”
“You offer me everything that matters. Honesty. Understanding. Someone who sees me—really sees me—and doesn’t think I’m crazy.” Maya lifts his hand to her cheek. He’s more solid now, fed by her proximity. “That’s worth more than normal.”
Julian cups her face with both hands. “I’m going to get you killed.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.” But he’s leaning in anyway. “The building won’t let you go. Not now that you’ve chosen me.”
“Then we’ll fight it together.” Maya closes the distance between them. “I’m not leaving you, Julian. Stop trying to push me away.”
“I’m not trying—” He stops himself. Laughs bitterly. “Okay. I am. Because watching you with him, seeing how easy it would be for you to choose someone else—” His voice cracks. “It would hurt less if you did. If you walked away before this gets worse.”
“Too late. It’s already worse.” Maya kisses him. Soft. Brief. “And I’m staying anyway.”
Julian kisses her back like he’s drowning and she’s air.
When they break apart, he presses his forehead to hers. “You’re insane.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“And stubborn.”
“Definitely.”
“And I’m completely in love with you.” The words spill out before he can stop them. “I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have—”
Maya’s heart stops. “Say that again.”
“No.”
“Julian.”
“I’m in love with you.” He says it like a confession. Like a curse. “I’ve been in love with you since you knocked back on the ceiling that first night. Since you looked at me like I was a person instead of a ghost. Since you chose to stay when every sane person would have run.” His hands tighten on her face. “And I know I shouldn’t be. I know it’s selfish and wrong and only going to hurt you. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
Maya’s throat is tight. “Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”
Julian’s eyes close. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Because now I can’t let you go. Now I’ll fight to keep you even though I know I shouldn’t. Now I’ll be selfish and reckless and I’ll drag you down with me when the building comes for us.” He opens his eyes. “And it will come for us, Maya. Soon.”
“Then we’ll be ready.”
“You don’t know what you’re up against.”
“So show me.” Maya steps back, holding his hands between them. “Show me everything. Every memory. Every death. Every time the building has won. Show me what we’re fighting.”
Julian hesitates. “It’s not pretty.”
“I don’t care. If we’re doing this—really doing this—I need to know what happened. All of it.”
He studies her for a long moment. Then he nods.
“Okay. But not here. Too many eyes.” He glances at the walls. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“The roof. It’s the one place the building’s power is weakest. Where the trapped souls can think clearly.” His grip tightens on her hands. “I’ll show you everything. And when you’ve seen it all—when you understand what you’re choosing—you can still walk away.”
“I won’t.”
“You might.” He pulls her toward the door. “Come on. Before I lose my nerve.”
They climb the stairs together, hand in hand.
And Maya realizes: this is the point of no return.
Once she knows everything—once she sees what the building really is—there’s no going back to ignorance. No pretending this is just an old building with creaky floors and overactive imagination.
This is real. The danger is real. The Man in Black is real.
And the man she’s falling in love with is really, truly dead.
But as they climb past the third floor—where the sealed door watches them with malevolent patience—and continue up toward the roof, Maya knows she’s made her choice.
She’s all in.
Whatever comes next, they’ll face it together.
Even if it kills her.
Reader Reactions